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A Proper Epilogue | ||||||
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Category: Post-DH/AB Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Minerva McGonagall, Neville Longbottom, Other, Ron Weasley Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama, Fluff, Romance Warnings: Death, Intimate Sexual Situations, Mild Language Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 188 Summary: Harry has just defeated Voldemort and everyone in the Wizarding World wants a piece of him, but there is only one witch with whom he wants to speak. How exactly can he hope that she still wants to see him? Hitcount: Story Total: 74379; Chapter Total: 9660 Author's Notes: This is a revision of a story I wrote years ago and posted on another site. Hopefully I have improved upon the writing, removed errors, and revised the romance suitably to fit within site rules! The story begins in the headmaster's office immediately after the trio have stepped away |
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“I don’t think it’s going to be that simple,” said Ron, interrupting his best friend’s train of thought. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?” “Apparently not,” Harry replied, an exasperated sigh escaping his thoroughly exhausted lips. “Why don’t you enlighten me?” He hated to sound so snippy but, as far as he was concerned, it was no time to be nitpicked by one of his best friends. “Look, Harry, I don’t really know a good way to say this, but you just told a room full of people how to master the Elder Wand — a room that included the entire sodding Malfoy family.” “Shite!” muttered Harry. “I did, didn’t I?” “It’s okay,” Hermione interjected softly. “I’m sure everyone was far too focused on your confrontation with Voldemort to be concerned about the Elder Wand.” “Thanks, Hermione,” said Harry, grateful for her attempt to provide a degree of comfort, “but I have a terrible feeling Ron may be on to something. I’m not sure why, exactly, but I had this overwhelming feeling I had to give that sorry bastard one last chance to show some remorse for what he had done.” “And you wanted to do that for what reason?” asked Ron, totally mystified by his Harry’s motivation. “Because of what Hermione told us about the restoration of souls that have been ripped by murder and the creation of Horcruxes,” Harry answered. “The only way Tom Riddle could have salvaged his soul was to repent — to show true remorse for what he had done.” “And I repeat,” added Ron, “you wanted to do that for what reason?” “You didn’t have to look at what was left of him at King’s Cross,” “King’s Cross?” asked Hermione, her curiosity piqued. “That’s one of the things I brought you up here to tell you and Ron,” answered Harry, anxious to keep the conversation moving. “When Dumbledore told me that what was left of his accidental Horcrux … a piece of his soul -- was beyond help, well … it was too sad for words.” “Oh, Harry,” whispered Hermione as her voice quivered with emotion, “he really didn’t deserve that kind of sympathy.” “Maybe not, Hermione, but if you had seen the way he grew up — all alone in that horrible orphanage — you might have felt differently,” “Bloody hell, Harry!” interjected Ron. “At least he wasn’t raised by wizard-hating Muggles! You didn’t owe him anything.” “Language, Ron!” interjected Hermione. “Look,” said Harry, ignoring Hermione’s interruption, “if you two want to engage in foreplay, could you at least do it someplace else? There are things I need to tell you about what happened when we went our separate ways and I had to face Riddle in the Forest. I brought you up here to tell you in private and we won’t have much time before someone finds us. Then there is only one other person I need to tell, after which I want to keep this amongst ourselves.” But before Harry could even finish his thought, their conversation was interrupted by agitated voices approaching by way of the spiral staircase. Instinctively, Harry, Ron, and Hermione drew their wands and took what little shelter was offered by the furnishings of the Headmaster’s office. They relaxed, however, as each recognized the unmistakably deep, elegant voice of the temporary Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. He was accompanied by Professor Minerva McGonagall, who sounded almost as stressed as she had when she had found Harry and Luna inside the Ravenclaw Common Room. As they reached the upper landing, just outside the open office door, the Minister stopped his ascent and turned to face Professor McGonagall. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this, Minerva. You told me yourself that Harry’s only ambition has always been to become an Auror.” “That’s true, Kingsley, but he’s only seventeen and hasn’t finished his education. He’s spent the better part of the last year on the run — hiding from Voldemort, and his Death Eaters. He’s even been hiding from the Ministry of Magic! Can you imagine the pressure … the incredible stress they were under? All that time, Potter and his friends faced worse dangers than you or I could possibly imagine, and now you want to put him straight to work!” “It’s the work he wants to do, Minerva. Imagine what it would mean to the wizarding world to have Harry Potter and his friends clean up the Auror Department.” “I never thought I’d see the day when you would want to use Potter. I admit it came as no surprise when Cornelius Fudge tried to use him for political gain. I was only slightly surprised when Rufus turned out to be no better, at least when it came to Harry’s interests, but you, Kingsley?” “For Merlin’s sake, Minerva, I don’t want to use him! I want to give him an opportunity to do the work he has always wanted to do with a chance to cut straight to the top of the queue. He won’t be a figurehead like Fudge asked of him. Instead, I’m talking about a real job — an important job! Maybe it will be the most important job ever offered to anyone, and Harry will get to stay with his best friends if they want to join him.” “Harry, Ron, and Hermione can take those jobs a year from now, and it won’t make a single bit of difference!” huffed McGonagall. “There isn’t going to be any time to reorganize anything for the next twelve months, and you know it! All the Aurors will be hunting down the remaining Death Eaters or preparing evidence for the trials. Why not let them finish their formal education and then let them decide what they want to do?” “I never suggested that Harry shouldn’t be given a choice,” replied the Minister. “And not just Harry — Hermione and Ron will be free to choose, as well. But do you think three heroes are going to want to come back to school after everything they have accomplished this year? Even with you back as Headmistress, I can’t imagine them choosing to spend another year at Hogwarts rather than taking up key positions in government.” “Well, you may be right about Harry and Ron, but you had better mark my words, Kingsley. Hermione Granger will definitely be coming back to Hogwarts — especially when she finds out I am naming her as Head Girl.” Harry didn’t know which came first, Hermione’s squeal of delight or Ron’s good-natured burst of laughter, but when he turned to look at his best friends, he found them smiling broadly at one another. Ron managed to cover the distance between them with three broad strides and swept Hermione off the floor with an enthusiastic embrace. Whatever Ron whispered in her ear triggered a happy response, as Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him into a passionate kiss. Harry’s heart soared momentarily for his best friends before dropping to the pit of his stomach with a resounding thud. While truly happy that Ron and Hermione had finally overcome the insecurities that had kept them apart for so long, watching their unabashed display of affection made him ache desperately for a chance to be reunited with Ginny. Fueled by his fierce determination, the pieces of a surprisingly simple plan began falling into place the moment he spotted the gob-smacked expressions on the faces of Minerva McGonagall and Kingsley Shacklebolt when they finally entered the room. “Oh, my!” exclaimed the Headmistress, who obviously hadn’t expected to find her office occupied, much less by snogging students. She diverted her eyes from the sight of Ron and Hermione, who had yet to break their embrace. “Hello, Harry,” she said, as a gentle smile crossed her normally taut face. “The Minister and I were just discussing you.” “Yes,” answered Harry, returning her smile. “I couldn’t help overhearing part of your conversation.” Harry paused for a moment, directing his gazed toward Hermione and Ron. Raising his voice considerably, Harry continued, “I think Hermione was rather … excited … to hear of your decision.” As the sound of her name carried across the office, Hermione finally broke off her kiss, and Ron gently lowered her feet back to the floor. She turned to face the new arrivals without even a hint of embarrassment. “Good morning, Headmistress,” said Hermione. “Minister,” she continued with a nod toward Kingsley Shacklebolt, “it’s wonderful to see you.” Harry never ceased to be amazed by Hermione Granger, brightest witch of her age, and the person most responsible for keeping him alive long enough to reach his final confrontation with Lord Voldemort. In fact, her cool use of intellect and constant state of preparedness had kept them out of irreparable harm’s way since their first year at Hogwarts. Nevertheless, Harry could not have possibly imagined the day when Hermione Jean Granger would be caught in a passionate embrace, only to turn to her Headmistress with as much poise as if she had been sitting at High Tea. It truly was a new world. Ron, on the other hand, had turned a brilliant shade of crimson, the likes of which Harry had never before seen on a human being, magical or Muggle. Ron was not alone in his embarrassment, however, as Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic, stood silently, fidgeting like a schoolboy, with his eyes locked firmly upon the floor. “Well, now,” said Professor McGonagall, “as you have obviously already heard, Kingsley has some important business he would like to discuss with the three of you. However, I’d like for each of you to know that you are welcome to return to Hogwarts to finish your final year come the first of September.” Kingsley Shacklebolt finally lifted his eyes from the floor, took a deep breath as if to speak, but was cut off by the Headmistress. “And, before the Minister can sweeten his offers, let me add that I will also be asking Mr. Weasley, here, to serve as Head Boy. As for you, Harry … I would like for you to consider filling in as our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher while you have a chance to finish the rest of your coursework. You will be given your choice of housing, of course — a flat in the teachers’ quarters, or you may remain in Gryffindor Tower.” Minerva McGonagall fidgeted nervously before finishing, “I had planned to offer the teaching post to Remus Lupin, after all he has done to support the Order, but … well … you know…” Silence fell over the room at the mention of their friend’s death. Harry fought unsuccessfully to choke back tears at the thought of his godson. Like Harry, Teddy Lupin had lost both parents in the battle against Voldemort. It had been one thing to read about the bittersweet taste of victory in battle, but everyone who remained in the battered castle that very day had learned this harsh lesson through the cruelty of experience. For many, Harry included, this had not been the first occasion upon which they had lost loved ones. As the silence lingered for a few more seconds, during which time Harry reflected upon the loss of his parents, godfather, greatest mentor, and friends. He sucked up his courage and rededicated himself to becoming a major part of his godson’s life. Above all else, gave thanks that Ginny Weasley had not been one of the casualties. “I’ve always planned to finish my education, so I will definitely be coming back to Hogwarts, Head Girl or not,” said Hermione softly, but with a note of finality. “I’m honored that you would like me to work for the Ministry, but I’d really like to finish here and take some time to sort out exactly what I want to do.” “Well, if Hermione’s coming back to school, then so am I,” added Ron enthusiastically — perhaps a bit more enthusiastically than he had planned, for everyone else in the room chuckled lightly at his response. Ron turned an even brighter shade of red as he turned to face Hermione, who smiled radiantly back at him before tenderly taking his hands in her own. For his part, Harry Potter was struck dumb by his friend’s decision to return to school when his dream job lay open to him for the taking. “Well,” mumbled Harry, “Dumbledore always had said that love was the greatest of all powers.” At last, the Minister of Magic was given an opportunity to speak. “Harry, I know we have all asked a lot of you for so long, but I really need your help. I need someone I can trust to take over the Auror Department and make sure that it conforms to the highest ethical standards. I think you are the man for the job. You’ve defeated Voldemort and have earned the utmost in respect from everyone in the wizarding world.” Harry tried to suppress the small laugh that struggled to escape his lips, failing miserably in the attempt. “Is something funny, Harry?” asked the Minister in surprise. “No, Minister, I really didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just that I destroyed Tom Riddle with Expelliarmus. It’s hardly the kind of thing that would become legendary amongst a group of fully trained Aurors. It’s really rather laughable.” “I’m not asking you to become their trainer,” countered Shacklebolt. “I’m asking you to oversee their selection and make sure that everyone stays in compliance with our standards — to root out corruption before it can take over the department.” “I’m not sure anyone can do that. It sounds impossible to tell you the truth.” “That’s why we need someone of unimpeachable moral standing, Harry — someone like you.” Harry grimaced at the Minister’s words and looked directly at Professor McGonagall before asking, “Would that include someone who cast the Cruciatus Curse on Amycus Carrow?” Hermione and Ron gasped simultaneously. “I’m not a saint, Minister,” Harry stated flatly. “In fact, I think you’d be rather disappointed with your selection.” “No one’s looking for a saint, Harry. I know it’s a big job, and my request is sudden. Still, I’d like to think it’s a decision you could make to help us.” “Thanks for your confidence, but I will have to think about it,” said Harry before turning his gaze back to the Headmistress. “Just like I’ll have to think about your offer, Professor. I won’t be making any decisions on my own, anymore. There’s someone I need to confer with before I … I mean we … make any major decisions.” “How long do you need, Harry, and, is there anything I can do to help?” asked Shacklebolt. There was the opening Harry had been seeking. “Yes, there is something I need help with if you can spare me a half hour. I have to tell you, however, that it has nothing to do with your job offer.” “After what you’ve done for us, I’ll do almost anything.” “Great! I need you to come with me to Diagon Alley. After the shite we pulled off yesterday, I don’t think the goblins will welcome me back into Gringotts, and there is something I desperately need to get from my vault.” “I’ve already heard about that from the Goblins, and you’re absolutely right,” the Minister said with a twinkle in his eye. “I take it that you broke into the vault of Bellatrix Lestrange for a good reason?” “Yes, Minister. That’s where Voldemort was hiding one of his Horcruxes,” answered Harry. “We had to get it in order to have any chance of killing him, and there really wasn’t any other way…” “That’s all I need to know for now, Harry. I’ll be happy to clear the way for you, no matter what you decide to do with your future.” “I can’t thank you enough, Sir! Truly.” “When do you want to leave?” “Just give me one minute. I need to ask a favor of Ron and Hermione.” With that said, Harry walked over to his best friends and pulled them close beside him. “Can you two please find Ginny, and ask her to meet me in the Gryffindor Common Room … in about half an hour? Please?” A note of desperation was clear in Harry’s voice, as he practically begged his friends for their assistance. “We’ll try, mate,” answered Ron. “Don’t try! Just find her. Tell her I have to see her!” implored Harry with rising urgency. “We will,” said Hermione, a note of recognition coming to light in her eyes, before she turned to her boyfriend. “Come on Ron! You heard the man.” Harry smiled gratefully, and then walked back across the room to address Professor McGonagall. “With the wards down, could we Apparate to Gringotts straight away?” “Most certainly,” she replied. “The front steps of Gringotts, then, Minister?” “Of course,” said Kingsley graciously. “But please allow me to go first … and give me a minute to prepare the goblins for your arrival.” Separated precisely by sixty seconds, two soft pops were heard in the office that belonged, once again, to Minerva McGonagall. ****** After agitatedly waiting a full minute, Harry turned on the spot and disappeared into the crushing darkness. Dumbledore had once told him that this method of magical travel would take some getting used to, but Harry doubted he would ever reach that level of comfort with Apparition. However, the ability to disappear in an instant only to reappear at the place of one’s choosing was a right handy talent that had already saved his life on more than one occasion. Although he was not in mortal danger as he followed Kingsley Shacklebolt to Gringotts, Harry could not ever remember being driven by a greater sense of urgency. As his feet hit solid ground, and the iron bands that had constricted his chest released their grip, Harry gasped deeply for fresh air. Taking a small step for stability, Harry opened his eyes and took in the chaos surrounding him. The great bronze doors were hanging loosely on their hinges as goblins and wizards alike worked quickly to repair the damage caused the previous day, when Harry, Ron and Hermione blasted their way out of the ancient bank on the back of a partially-blind dragon. “That was yesterday!” thought Harry. “Is it even possible? Did we really rob Gringotts, find and destroy the remaining Horcruxes, and win the final confrontation with the Darkest wizard of the century, only to resume my quest for normality -- all in less than twenty-four hours?” Of course Harry realized that he hadn’t done it alone — not even the terrible walk into the Forbidden Forest. The initial thoughts that he was required to go it alone had been proven ridiculous. He knew he would have been dead had it not been for Ron and, most especially, Hermione. He realized that without the assistance of Minerva McGonagall, the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore’s Army, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Molly Weasley, countless others, and, of course, Ginny, all his efforts would have been doomed to failure. It was amazing. It was humbling. Perhaps most of all, it was terrifying. But there he stood, back on the steps of Gringotts Bank, thinking of all that had happened, but most of all, thinking of Ginny. Turning his head from side to side, Harry finally managed to spot the newly appointed Minister of Magic who was besieged by a small crowd of agitated goblins avidly seeking restitution for the damages. Their mood did not improve when Harry Potter, the perceived cause of all their problems, stepped up beside the Minister. “It’s him … that’s Potter … the one who did all this!” screamed Bogrod, one of the goblins Harry had placed under the Imperius Curse. “Arrest him!” Kingsley Shacklebolt lifted his hand and silenced the crowd with his rich baritone laugh. Their reaction stunned Shacklebolt, who had simply been so amused by the frenetic situation that he had been unable to suppress his laughter. “Damn!” he thought, “this sort of power could be dangerously intoxicating.” Gathering his wits about him, Kingsley turned his attention back to the goblins. “That’s right, Bogrod,” said the Minister sardonically. “Let’s arrest the young man who risked everything to defeat the most evil wizard of the age!” he concluded before drifting helplessly back into laughter. Try as he might to behave in his official capacity, Kingsley Shacklebolt couldn’t disengage his sense of humor from the irony of the situation. Whatever the irate goblins had expected from the Minister of Magic, temporary or otherwise, laughter had not been it. Taken entirely by surprise, Bogrod and his associates stepped back in confusion, not daring to speak. “I’m tempted to tell you to restore this property yourselves, with no help from the Ministry. It’s what you have earned by continuing to conduct business as usual with convicted Death Eaters. However, since you have neither broken any laws nor actively assisted our enemies, I will recommend to the Wizengamot that we assist in your rebuilding efforts.” This statement seemed to placate the restless assembly of goblins, who stood silently looking at one another, as if searching for direction. Harry had expected shame or remorse from the goblins but saw, instead, only a marked sense of anger bubbling from them. It was Kingsley, once again, who took charge. “Mr. Potter is urgently in need of something from his vault and requires immediate assistance. I will accompany him until his business here is finished,” stated the Minister firmly. “And does Mr. Harry Potter have his key?” asked Bogrod uncooperatively, obviously searching for a loophole in his obligation to serve. Harry reached for the pocket of his jeans, retrieving a small golden key. It was the one item, other than his wand, that he kept with him at all times leading up to his departure with Ron and Hermione to search for Voldemort’s Horcruxes. He smiled ironically, knowing that it was one of only a few things Hermione would not have thought to pack in her magical beaded bag. It also bore witness to Harry’s naïveté, for he had once believed that he might be able to drop into Gringotts to retrieve a bag of galleons if funds had run short on their journey. Amused by his own stupidity, Harry snickered audibly. Unaware that Harry was laughing at himself, rather than the frustration of Bogrod, Kingsley laughed once again, and wrapped a strong, protective arm about Harry’s shoulders. He gazed firmly at the goblin who muttered, “Very well,” and led the way back into the damaged structure. Five minutes later, Harry, Kingsley, and Bogrod stepped from the cart onto the landing in front of Vault 17. “Excuse me!” blurted Harry. “I thought we were going to my vault -- #687.” “No,” answered Bogrod, on your seventeenth birthday the contents of your trust account vault were returned to the Potter family vault.” “So why, exactly, did I need my key?” asked Harry. Bogrod ignored the question and began working upon the door. After allowing the goblin to open the vault, Harry gasped audibly. While he was accustomed to the sight of the small fortune that lay in Vault 687, he was absolutely astonished by the collection of wealth that faced him in the family vault. Harry took out the roped bag that had been provided by the bank and prepared to gather the galleons he would need to complete his immediate task at hand before suddenly stopping. Instead, he moved to an ornate table that had appeared as if by magic in the front of the vault. Harry removed an open velvet-covered box measuring approximately four inches by six inches and only about one inch in height. Without allowing his companions to see the items, he slipped his treasure into the bag before gathering enough galleons to keep him liquid until he had time to investigate the vault more carefully. With a subtle swish of his wand, Harry shrank the bag to a fraction of its original size and slipped it into his pocket. As he and Kingsley emerged into the sunlight of Diagon Alley, Harry checked the watch that had once belonged to Fabian Prewett but was now his thanks to the generosity of Molly and Arthur Weasley. It had only been twenty-six minutes since he Disapparated from the office of Headmistress Minerva McGonagall. He had been dreading the return visit to Gringotts since the very first moment he had begun formulating his plan -- a plan that had been hastily developed, yet was nevertheless the most important one upon which Harry had ever embarked, Horcruxes be damned! With the first phase completed, Harry had thought his unsettled stomach might relax. Instead, he found himself consumed with tension to the point that his hands had begun to tremble. “Thanks, Minister,” he said gratefully. “You’re a life saver!” “Happy to assist, Harry, and please, let’s drop the formality. I’m only the temporary Minister of Magic, and I should always be just ‘Kingsley’ to you.” “Okay, ‘just Kingsley’, but I think you’re a bloody brilliant choice for the job,” answered Harry. “Well, it’s a job I didn’t ask for, and one I really don’t want,” sighed Shacklebolt. “And that’s exactly why you should have it,” added Harry. “We’ve had enough of the kind of people who want that job, don’t you think?” “I guess you should know all about that kind of thing,” answered Kingsley gently. “Yeah, I guess I do. Well, now that I’m done with Voldemort, it’s time to move on to better things. I’m due back at Hogwarts in a couple of minutes, so I’d best be going,” finished Harry, offering his hand to the Auror-turned-Minister of Magic. For his part, Kingsley Shacklebolt wondered just what it could be that Harry Potter thought more important than vanquishing the darkest wizard in known history. He would not soon find the answer to that question, however, for Harry turned quickly in place, and vanished with a soft pop. A moment later, Harry reappeared in the Gryffindor Common Room and began scanning the area for Ginny Weasley. To his disappointment, his eyes discovered only his two closest friends, wrapped in a passionate embrace, snogging each other senseless. “Ron! Hermione!” he shouted. “I thought you two were supposed to be looking for Ginny!” “We have been looking for her, mate,” replied Ron, who then took the time to place one last, soft kiss on Hermione’s lips before rising from the sofa. “We really have been looking for her, Harry,” added Hermione. “We just haven’t been able to find her anywhere.” “She was with Mrs. Weasley when we left the Great Hall,” said Harry, beginning to pace the room. “Were you able to find your mum, Ron?” “No, Harry, we couldn’t. We found George, though, and he told us that Mum and Dad had gone down to take care of F-Fred, Tonks, and Remus. They wouldn’t have taken Ginny downstairs for that.” “Oh, Merlin!” exclaimed Harry, as the Common Room began to spin slowly around him. He had been so consumed with his immediate concerns that he had momentarily pushed the casualties of war from his consciousness. However, the reminder of these losses was simply overwhelming. While he had been comforted on his walk into the forest by the ethereal presence of his parents, Sirius and Lupin, Ron’s comment had triggered an entirely different recollection. For the moment, all Harry could remember were the empty eyes of Fred Weasley, and the lifeless bodies of Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin. The absence of Ginny only served to compound his anxieties. “Are you all right, mate?” asked Ron, as he watched his best friend stagger to the nearest armchair. “No, Ron, he’s not,” said Hermione when Harry failed to answer. Leaping quickly from the sofa, Hermione rushed to her friend, taking his pale hand in her own. “Harry, you’re so cold,” she whispered. At last, his head began to clear, and Harry responded, “It’s just the effects of Apparition, combined with a couple of wild rides into the bowels of Gringotts.” “I bet they went mental at the sight of you!” muttered Ron. “Did you see that little traitor, Griphook?” “No,” answered Harry, “but Kingsley made Bogrod drive the cart to my family vault. He wasn’t too happy about it, that’s for sure.” “What in the name of Merlin’s … left leg … made you go back there, anyway?” asked Ron. “I’m sorry, Ron, but that’s something I need to talk to Ginny about,” said Harry. “I really need to find her. You don’t think something terrible has happened to her do you?” he asked, pulling away from Hermione to resume pacing nervously. “No,” answered Ron sarcastically, “I don’t think anything terrible has happened to her, and what’s so bloody important about talking to Ginny, anyway? If you wanted her to jump at your command, maybe you shouldn’t have ditched her in the first place.” It was as if Ron and Harry were back at the Burrow, and Ron was trying to finish the conversation he had started after discovering Ginny and Harry kissing on his seventeenth birthday. As he finished his last statement, color began rushing into Ron’s cheeks. Harry wheeled around, fists clinched, and a burning look of anger etched upon his face. “I told you I didn’t ditch her, Ron …” began Harry, but the anger slipped quickly from his voice. Unable to finish his defense, he turned to face Hermione. Looking more like a scared child than the Master of Death, Harry returned to the armchair and sat quietly on the front edge of the seat. A moment later, he leaned slightly forward and lowered his head into his shaking hands. A wave of nausea swept over him, but having eaten nothing but a bit of bread and cheese over the last twenty-eight hours, there was nothing but a bit of stomach acid to reach his throat, burning like Fiend Fire. Thoughts of Ginny floated to the surface of Harry’s mind, but they were no longer the pleasant memories that had comforted him as the flash of green light approached him from Voldemort’s Avada Kedavra. Instead, the only things Harry could remember were the pained expression he had witnessed after Dumbledore’s funeral, the sound of her sobbing as she turned her back to him after that wonderful kiss in her bedroom, and the look of bitter disappointment that had come over her face after he failed to support her desire to join the fighting the previous night. Overwhelmed with desperation, he raised his head from the cradle of his hands, opened his eyes, and sought the comfort of Hermione’s gaze. “God, Hermione! I’ve lost her, haven’t I?” he muttered bitterly, as once again the room began to spin. “Oh, Harry,” she replied, “I don’t think it’s …” But Harry never heard what else she meant to say as he suddenly lurched forward from the edge of the armchair, falling with a sickening crack as his forehead struck the hard tile floor. ****** Harr y came gradually back to consciousness as Ron and Hermione struggled to move him from the stairwell into the dormitory he had shared for six years with Ron, Dean, Seamus, and Neville. Ron was hauling him backwards, with his arms clutched under Harry’s armpits. Hermione was trying her hardest to support his legs. Harry wondered bemusedly why they had not simply levitated him up to his bed. It took only a moment for Harry to realize that, despite the physical challenges of carrying his helpless body, his best friends were in the midst of a minor disagreement. “All I said, Ron, was that you had no business yelling at Harry about splitting up with Ginny. You know he was only trying to protect her!” “Yeah, right! Some protection that was, leaving her miserable and alone to come back to Hogwarts — to live under the thumb of the bleeding Carrows!” “I didn’t say it was a perfect decision, but he was doing what he thought best because he loves her.” “Loves her!” screeched Ron derisively. “Where’d you ever get an idea like that? He’s never said he loves her!” Perhaps it was simply a surge of adrenaline, or maybe he was fueled by a sudden spike in his magical powers, but a wave of incredible strength washed over Harry, who suddenly twisted free of Ron’s grasp. It took only a moment before Harry was once again standing upright, with his wand pointed directly at Ron’s chest. “Of course I love her, you big berk!” screamed Harry. “Just because I don’t carry on with you about your sister, for Merlin’s sake, doesn’t mean I don’t love her!” “Easy, mate,” said Ron nervously, as the room crackled with magical energy. “For the last four years, Ron, I’ve watched you ogling my sister,” Harry said, glancing momentarily toward Hermione, “and I haven’t once criticized you. But since I fell in love with Ginny, all you’ve been able to do is criticize every single thing I’ve done.” “That’s a bit unfair, mate,” Ron replied indignantly. “Is that right?” asked Harry. “So now, when I’ve gone and ruined everything — now that I’ve driven away the only girl I’ve ever really loved -- all you can say is that I got what I fucking deserved.” “That’s not what I was saying at all, Harry. I was just trying to protect my sister, who…” began Ron, before another voice stopped him in mid-sentence. “…doesn’t want or need your protection, you big git!” The voice belonged to Ginny Weasley, who at that precise moment drew back the burgundy and gold curtains hanging about the four-poster bed that had been Harry’s for the previous six years. “Ginny!” gasped Harry, turning with relief to gaze at her brilliant red hair and bright brown eyes. Without another glance at Ron or Hermione, Harry pocketed his wand and stepped over to the bed. Taking her hands in his, Harry uttered as softly as he possibly could, “I’m sorry, Ginny — sorry for everything.” He searched for something more to say — something to make everything all right, but words failed him. The momentary silence was soon filled by Ron, whose temper flared instinctively. “Ginny! What the bloody hell are you doing in his bed?” “Sleeping, obviously, you ridiculous tosspot!” she snarled in return. “Alone!” she added for good measure, before turning her eyes beseechingly toward Hermione. “Ron, it is clearly time we left these two to talk things over,” said Hermione, taking Ron’s arm gently in her own. “If you can hold that horrible temper of yours, Ron, perhaps we could take a lesson from your sister and steal a little kip for ourselves.” “What?” asked Ron, firmly rooted to the spot, glaring at the sight of his little sister in his best friend’s bed. “A kip, Ron … for the two of us … together,” she reiterated. Catching the surprised look on Ginny’s face, Hermione began to blush. Harry couldn’t suppress the snort that tore through his lips, amazed that Ginny … his Ginny … could elicit a response of embarrassment from Hermione Granger, when the frightfully imposing Minerva McGonagall could not. Hermione rolled her eyes suggestively at her boyfriend and tugged more forcefully at his arm. “Don’t you fancy a kip with me, Ron?” she whispered pleadingly. At last, a look of understanding passed over Ron’s face, and the scowl he had been wearing softened immediately. “A kip?” he murmured softly. “S … sure!” Without another word, and without a glance back at either Harry or his sister, Ron followed Hermione out of the dorm room and disappeared down the stairs. “Maybe later,” said Ginny, as a sly smile threatened to crease her lips, “you can tell me all about how that happened.” “Yes, maybe,” answered Harry softly. “Not exactly the way I’d dreamed of hearing that for the first time, by the way,” Ginny added, unable to keep a trace of bitterness out of her voice. “Hearing what?” asked Harry. “That you love me, Harry. Somehow I always figured you’d be speaking to me instead of my brother when you finally got around to saying it.” “Oh, Gin …” Harry began, but the words refused to roll off his tongue. Embarrassed and unnerved, Harry looked down to see Ginny’s hands held lightly in his. Try as he might, Harry could not stop them from trembling. Ginny sat in stunned silence as the young man who had confidently faced down Lord Voldemort seemed to be coming apart. Whatever resentment Ginny had felt in the Room of Requirement melted quickly away. The young witch moved closer to Harry and pulled him into a tender embrace. As his head came to rest upon her shoulder, Harry relaxed noticeably, thankful to once again feel her touch. “Ginny,” he whispered softly. “There’s so much I need to tell you. I know I’ve hurt you, and I’m so sorry. And I’m terrified that you’re not going to be happy with everything I’ve done tonight. I hardly know where to begin.” “How about answering this, Harry: why …” she started, before choking over her own emotional reaction. “Why what, love?” Harry asked tenderly. Ginny breathed deeply before continuing, “Why … after breaking things off with me … after leaving me behind to do whatever you had to do … why on Earth would you come after Bellatrix Lestrange instead of Voldemort?” “How could you have known that? I was under my invisibility cloak the whole time?” “Harry, please, I’m not an idiot. When you hollered ‘Protego’, you were practically standing next to me. Even after Mum finished her off, you were still there with us, instead of engaging Voldemort. So, why the hell would you let me suffer without you all year, only to turn away from the stupid noble reason you left me in the first place?” “Oh, Ginny, can’t you see why I had to push you away?” “And that would be?” asked Ginny, her voice sounding strangely distant. “You!” said Harry, pulling her even closer to his chest. “Of all the terrible things that have happened since Voldemort decided to come after me and my parents, there has only been one thing I couldn’t possibly survive, only one thing that would surely kill me. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you, Ginny. I couldn’t bear to have him kill you because of me.” Ginny gasped audibly as the depth of Harry’s feelings began to wash over her. “Look,” continued Harry, as the words he’d been unable to say moments earlier flooded out of him in torrents, “I know I’ve been selfish. I’ve only thought about what I needed in order to survive. I know I’ve hurt you … more than once … and I half expect you to never want to speak to me again. I just need you to know that I love you and, when forced to choose between you and my duty to kill Voldemort, I chose you. I couldn’t possibly have done anything else. I couldn’t let Bellatrix Lestrange kill you like she killed Sirius.” Ginny felt Harry becoming more agitated and loosened their embrace. In less than a second, he was up, pacing the floor nervously. At a loss for words, she sat quietly; waiting to hear whatever else he intended to say. “It took me a while to figure things out. At first, I only understood that I couldn’t handle the guilt of being responsible for your death. After all, Voldemort had killed my parents because of some stupid prophecy about me. Then he had Cedric murdered when all he really wanted to do was to kill me in front of his Death Eaters. Then that bitch killed my godfather because Sirius had come to save me from my own stupidity. Then I thought he had Dumbledore killed because he was training me. Ginny, Voldemort had already taken away everyone I loved or depended upon, and then some, and I knew I couldn’t take it if he killed you! “Then on my birthday, when you kissed me and Ron went mental, I realized that I was walking away from you without any promises. You were free to move on if you wished to and suddenly I saw that there was more than one way I could lose you. It practically killed me right then, but I didn’t know what else to do. I was sodding terrified that Voldemort would figure out how much I loved you, and that it would guarantee your death. So, I just moved ahead with my plan until Bill and Fleur’s wedding, when all further choices were taken out of my hands. “There’s something else, too. I had a job to do — something no one else could do, if you believe in prophecies. I had to kill him, being “The Chosen One” and all,” Harry said with a noticeable hint of anger. “I had to kill him or be killed by him, and I couldn’t do that until all the Horcruxes were destroyed. Like it or not, that’s something I couldn’t possibly do if you were with me. You saw it tonight. If forced to choose between you and my damned duty, I’d always choose you. I just can’t help it, Ginny.” “And you just couldn’t tell me any of this before you walked away?” she asked, anger mingled with pain. “You didn’t think I’d be better off knowing all of this — what I meant to you?” “Like I said before, I’m really sorry,” reiterated Harry, meaning every word. “I tried to tell you at Dumbledore’s funeral … at least I tried to tell you what I knew at the time … that I couldn’t bear it if you died, knowing that Voldemort would come after you if he knew what you meant to me.” “I guess it sounded something like that, but it would have helped to know a little more about what you were thinking before you turned your back on me,” she replied. “One more look … one more word … and I would have lost my resolve. All I can say is that a year ago, I only knew what I didn’t want. I didn’t want you to die … especially not because of me. I can’t change what I have or haven’t done in the past, but things have changed since then. I may be pretty thick, but when you face death … I mean really face the end …” Harry stammered, his heart pounding ferociously in his chest. He swallowed nervously, wondering why it was harder to say something important to his girlfriend than it was even to face Voldemort. It made no sense, but Harry knew he had to finish his thought. “Well, when … when you know you are going to … die … it becomes pretty clear what’s most important. And, Ginny, when that time came for me last night, the only thing I could think about was you.” Ginny watched in silence as Harry walked to his chest of drawers and pulled a tiny object from his pocket. Placing it on top of the dresser, Harry flourished his wand, and said, “Finite Incantatum.” In moments, the object had become a full-sized bag, which clanked loudly while Harry worked to withdraw the velvet-covered box he had stashed among the galleons. He returned to the bed and placed the box on the duvet Ginny had been snuggled under. Despite his trembling fingers, Harry managed to open the box so as not to reveal its contents to her. Removing a small drawstring pouch, he snapped the lid shut and lifted his emerald green eyes to gaze longingly at Ginny. “There so many more things I need to tell you, and you may not like everything you hear. But I need for you to understand everything I tell you with the complete and absolute certainty that I love you. I love you and always will!” Ginny shifted uneasily, wondering what could possibly be making Harry so nervous. Her silence only served to intensify his anxiety. “How many times can I tell her that I love her,” Harry wondered, “and get nothing in return? Maybe it really is too late.” “You may not realize this, but ever since I first arrived at Grimmauld Place, you have been my rock. More often than not, you have been the only person who has been able to reach me. You’ve never been afraid to tell me when I’m heading around the twist, but you’ve also stopped long enough to listen to what I have on my mind. You’re incredibly brave, too. If you could have seen your face in the Forbidden Forest when I tried to keep you from coming to the Department of Mysteries … well, it was rather intimidating, to say the least! “You probably have no idea how insanely jealous I was that day Ron and I found you snogging Dean Thomas. It was then that I realized how much I wanted to be more than your friend. … And watching you fly, Ginny. Merlin! I can’t even begin to tell you how badly I wanted you! “So, long before I kissed you in the Common Room, I was totally taken with you — so taken that I was willing to risk losing my best friend in order to be with you. You’re the only person I have ever felt completely at peace with, and the only one I ever felt comfortable being completely myself in front of. “This may not be the right time. We haven’t even buried your brother yet. But, Ginny, I have something to ask you, and I don’t think I can wait much longer.” Harry fumbled with the drawstring, nearly dropping the pouch as he withdrew a gold ring bearing a glittering emerald-cut diamond, offset on either side by blazing rubies. Before Ginny could recover from the shock, Harry sank to one knee. “Ginevra Weasley, I want to spend my life with you. Will you marry me?” In the blink of a tear-filled eye, Ginny thought of every reason Harry’s proposal made absolutely no sense. She was still only sixteen, at least for a couple more months, with a year left to go at Hogwarts. As Harry had told her, Fred had been killed less than twelve hours before. Her family was devastated. Most importantly, Harry had broken things off with her without asking for her input — without any consideration of her own wishes and desires. For Merlin’s sake, they had only dated for a few short weeks. No, it made no sense at all. So, Ginny took a deep breath, looked deeply into Harry’s loving eyes, and shocked herself with her response. “Yes, Harry, of course I’ll marry you.” Harry released the breath he had been holding far too long, feeling nearly as deprived of oxygen as if he had been Apparating for hours. Relief coursed throughout his body as a single tear escaped his eye, and Harry slipped the ring onto Ginny’s finger. With a simple tap of his wand, the ring adjusted magically, insuring a perfect fit for its new owner. “It’s beautiful,” whispered Ginny. “Not anywhere near what you deserve,” he answered, rising unsteadily to his feet. “I think they belonged to my mother, Ginny, but the moment I saw them, I knew they would look perfect on you — Gryffindor colors, of course, and brilliant rubies to match your brilliant hair. And the diamond is strong, yet sparkling, just like you. But if you don’t like them, or just want something completely new, I can take them back to Gringotts and let you pick something for yourself.” Ginny frowned momentarily, weighing a question in her mind. “Them, Harry?” she asked at last. He nodded silently in response, opened the velvet-covered box, and retrieved a simple gold necklace, bearing a stunning ruby of identical size and cut to match the center stone of her engagement ring, surrounded by glittering diamond baguettes. Harry held it up for her approval and when she smiled brilliantly, he leaned forward to fasten the clasp behind her neck and, for the first time in nearly a year, pressed the gentlest of kisses to her lips. Ginny responded immediately, wrapping her arms around him, and melting into his embrace. When Harry slid his finger upwards and entwined them in her thick tresses, Ginny quivered slightly and parted her lips, inviting Harry inside. He moaned ecstatically as they slowly lay back upon the bed, never breaking their kiss. Time stood still, as it had the first time their lips met, until Ginny reluctantly broke away. “They’re wonderful, Harry. I couldn’t even conceive of anything more perfect, and I’m so touched that these belonged to your mum. I’m overwhelmed, really.” “I only want you to be happy,” he whispered, gazing at her reverently. “I am,” she replied. “I assume you have a plan for this.” “No, not really. This is as far as I’ve gotten. I’ve learned my lesson, and I’m not making any plans without you, Ginny … never again.” “Then what are we going to do? I’ve got another year to finish here at Hogwarts, and I’ve no idea what you’re going to be doing.” “Well, I’ve already got a couple of options. Kingsley has asked me to consider taking over the Auror Department….” “Oh, Harry,” interrupted Ginny. “That’s unbelievable.” “Unbelie vable is right, Ginny. I’ve already told him that his team won’t be too impressed with working for an 18-year-old wizard who is best known for his deadly Expelliarmus!” Ginny smiled but a look of concern lay hidden behind her eyes. “So, we’re getting engaged, but you’re going to be spending the year at the Ministry while I’m here at Hogwarts?” “Well, I’m really leaning toward my other offer. Professor McGonagall has invited Hermione, Ron, and me back to finish our education and take our N.E.W.T. level exams,” answered Harry. “Hermione has already accepted her invitation, and Ron practically wet himself following her along. How does that sound?” “It sounds wonderful, Harry. I found lots of new hiding places all over the castle this year.” Harry creased his brow concernedly, bringing a quick scoff from Ginny’s lips. “Just hiding from the Carrows, you daft boy!” she added quickly. “But I think we could put them to better use if it’s too cold or wet to sneak out by the lake.” “Well, I don’t want to rush you, Ginny, but Professor McGonagall has also asked if I would teach Defense Against the Dark Arts — just for this year. It may be more than you can handle, but she’s offered me a flat in the teachers’ quarters. I’m pretty sure they have proper accommodations for married faculty.” “You are certainly full of surprises today, Mr. Potter!” replied Ginny, a sly smile spreading slowly across her face. “Mum’s going to have kittens!” “Well, we could wait until August 11th and elope quietly,” Harry suggested. “Not on your life!” shrieked Ginny playfully. “The first Weasley daughter in generations isn’t going to skulk off and get married without her family!” “Just kidding!” Harry exclaimed. “Your brothers would kill me.” “There wouldn’t be anything left of you once Mum got finished,” said Ginny with a happy giggle. “You know, Harry, an hour ago I wouldn’t have thought it possible that I could be happy — even laughing — with all we have lost. I really don’t know what to say … except that I really do love you … always have.” She sighed contentedly and leaned her forehead gently against his. “Ouch!” exclaimed Harry when she came to rest upon the exact spot where he had collided with the Common Room floor. Ginny looked up at her fiancé, and noticed for the first time that a nasty bruise that had risen next to his scar. “How did that happen?” she asked with concern. “It looks painful.” “Long story. I sort of passed out just before coming up here. Anyway, I fell out of the chair I was sitting in and smacked my head against the floor. Ron and Hermione were carting me up here when all hell broke loose.” “And you told my arse of a brother that you loved me?” teased Ginny, before adopting a softer tone of voice. “When, exactly, have you last slept, Harry?” “I don’t really know, love. We got a couple of hours of sleep night before last, just before we broke into Gringotts.” “Broke into Gringotts! I thought that was impossible!” “Well, necessity is the mother of invention, and Voldemort really didn’t leave us many choices. But we had Hermione with us, so it had to work, didn’t it?” he said with a light note of laughter in his voice. “Oh, Ginny, there’s so much to tell you, and some of it isn’t going to be easy for me to talk about — or for you to hear.” “As long as it doesn’t involve you and Hermione in a sleeping bag, I think I can deal with it — whatever it is.” “No, I told you that dating opportunities were going to be pretty thin on the ground. You’re engaged to a pathetic virgin,” he mumbled grumpily, although Ginny was confident that she saw a smile lurking below the surface. “That makes two of us, Harry, but I’m actually pretty happy about that, you know.” “There’s never been anyone but you, Ginny. Never. But it was kinda cute, the way you told Cho that Luna would be the one taking me to the Ravenclaw Common Room.” “Just watching out for my interests,” she responded, while watching her fiancé’s eyes drift shut momentarily. “Really?” Harry mumbled, fighting against the onslaught of desperately needed sleep. “You know, I really don’t mind getting engaged to a virgin, Harry, as long as I don’t have to marry one,” she whispered tenderly into his ear. Harry shuddered contentedly, then answered with equal tenderness, “Promise?” “Absolutely, but for now, you’d better get some rest.” And with that, Ginny turned her back to Harry and snuggled against him as tightly as possible. With his last ounce of energy, Harry draped an arm over her and cupped her breast protectively. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the intoxicating flowery aroma of her hair, and drifted peacefully off to sleep. It took Ginny a few moments longer to drift away, during which time her eyes were transfixed upon the perfect diamond and blazing rubies that adorned the ring finger of her left hand. Despite all she had lost, Ginny Weasley felt complete for the first time since she had met Harry on Platform 9-3/4. |
| Reviews 188 |
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