Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters.
Chapter Ten: It's not that time yet
Nearly a year had passed since Harry had disappeared. Much had happened in that time and none of it good.
Oh, people still went about their daily lives, but now they did so with aurors on nearly every street corner and the occasional Magical Knight readily noticeable keeping stalwart vigil amongst the public sector. The reasoning for such blatant security measures was not one of open hostilities with party or parties unknown, but due to a rash of disappearances that had plagued the British Isles. Unlike the war with Voldemort, when muggles and muggle borns were openly preyed upon, this time around the disappearances were exclusively magical folk, especially those of pure blood descent.
People disappeared during broad daylight, most never seen or heard from again. Others….? Well, others returned days or weeks later, found wandering aimlessly in the streets with vacant stares, devoid of all emotion and memory. What was worse, at least to some, these poor mindless individuals were devoid of all magic . They were dried husks, shells of their former selves. Calling them squibs would be kind, that is, if they even had enough reason remaining to comprehend what the word meant.
These poor hapless individuals died within days of being found. They simply ceased to exist. They neither ate nor drank. Rest was a foreign concept. They simply wandered aimlessly until their hearts gave out and they fell over dead.
Their symptoms mimicked, almost exclusively, that of the victim of a dementor's kiss. They were, in fact ,soulless; however, they were not kissed. They were much worse off; if there even was such a thing?
Not only was their soul removed, along with it every nuance of their magical energy, but also, nearly every shred of their life's energy as well.
What the general public didn't know,… couldn't know, was that each one of these victims had one startling thing in common. Each had a bloody hand print present over their heart, the place where their life's energy had been drained from their body.
That handprint and its location was, either by coincidence or intent, the very same location and design of the insignia worn by former knight, Harry Potter; the insignia that had come to be infamously known as 'The Hand of Death'.
Though the ICW and the British MLES did not suspect that Harry Potter had anything to do with the plight of these people, they neither thought it mere coincidence either.
To that end, Harry Potter was unofficially, a wanted man. Unofficial; because if the public was made aware of this 'coincidence' they would be screaming for his blood in the street!
Both the ICW and the MLES had standing orders to detain on sight, one Harry James Potter, by any and all means necessary, save lethality. The order was instituted both for his own protection and for informational gathering purposes.
It was an order that Bjorn Dykstra, First of the Magical Knights, did not take lightly, nor did he condone.
He and those he served with saw it as a disgraceful plot to vilify one who had served with both honor and the highest distinction in his all too brief career.
In the public eye, they would follow the standing order to detain, Harry Potter. In private, not a one among them would even consider such cruel compensation for one they considered above reproach.
The British aurors on the other hand?
The knights all feared that an overzealous auror would take it upon himself to capture Harry Potter by any means necessary, regardless of orders to the contrary concerning lethality.
This possibility was due, in part, to the reason behind the Knights keeping a careful vigil in all areas that boasted a concentration of Aurors.
Harry Potter would not come to harm on their watch. Not that there was any real chance of that occurring, as Harry Potter was considered long gone from these shores after his abrupt departure from St. Mungos' some eleven months ago prior.
Many believed he was living in muggle, English speaking society; in either, the states, Canada or even Australia.
Others believed that he was perhaps one of the very first of those that had disappeared, another unknown victim who would never be heard from again in this lifetime.
Lastly, there were those that believed that Harry Potter was at the heart of the evil that currently plagued the British Isles and that only his death would see an end to the fear that now gripped the wizarding public.
Fortunately, those who believed this were in the vast minority. Unfortunately some of those who believed this were contained within the ranks of the British MLES. A rumor to which the current Head of Aurors, one Ronald Weasley, had done his level best to dissuade.
The majority,( those with the capacity to reason despite their growing fear), believed that Harry Potter was out there, bidding his time, and would return to save them one day. It never occurred to them to take matters into their own hands and actively move to defend themselves.
Tuesday, May 21
It was late afternoon; the oppressive heat of the day was just starting to wane. A powerfully built figure ascended the few stairs that led to a well maintained front porch that overlooked a vast emptiness to the south as far as the eye could see, and a veritable wilderness, equally impressive to the north.
The ranch's occupant owned and maintained this land, for miles in all directions.
A gauntleted hand knocked softly on the door jam. Scant moments passed before the door opened and the ranch's unsurprised occupant asked,
"How far apart are they?"
"The contractions?" The figure in the doorway asked with feigned innocence, barely suppressing the grin that threatened to split his face.
The owner of the ranch shot the other a withering, incredulous look and reiterated,
"The abductions. I already know the contractions are still several minutes apart."
Sobering, the other answered. "They're still several days apart."
"Then it's still not time." The owner responded.
"You're sure about this?" his visitor added worriedly.
The owner merely shrugged and answered. "I'm not really sure of anything, but it feels right."
The figure in the doorway nodded his acceptance. He knuckled away a bead of sweat traveling down the side of his face.
"You could at least offer a guest a cool drink?" The visitor admonished pointedly.
The ranch owner arched an eyebrow and asked. "Is it hot outside?"
The visitor rolled his eyes. "You already know it is. Why on Earth you'd want to live in this God forsaken oven is beyond me?" He quipped.
"You already know why." The owner returned. "Besides, it's nice and cool inside." He paused to appreciate his visitor's pained expression in reminding him that he was quite comfortable inside, away from the oppressive heat outside.
Sighing dramatically he stepped out of the door way and nodded his quest inside.
"The place looks great." His visitor commented taking in the polished log interior and western motif.
His host merely shrugged as he handed his guest a cold beer. "It suits me. As long as Sara and the kids are happy, I've no reason to complain.
"How are the little ones?"
"Getting stronger every day."
"And their father?" The visitor asked, tipping his beer bottle in the rancher's direction.
"Funny." His host quipped. "But to answer your drool question. I'm getting stronger every day, as well.
"How much longer do you think?"
"As Long as it takes. Six months? A year? I don't know. It'll take as long as it takes." His host spat back, venting his own frustration.
"I'm not accusing you. It's just ,.. people are dying and we can't contain it much longer before there's panic in the streets ."
"Then declare martial law?" His host suggested.
His guest drained his bottle and shook it upside down meaningfully.
"I'll get another, but answer the question would you." His host requested as he rose to fetch another cold beer from the open kitchen area, bordering the great room.
"If I thought it would do any good, I would. But we don't know how they're taking these people or where in the first place? I'll be damned if I lock people up in their homes at night like some giant lunch box with tasty treats just waiting inside." His quest argued.
The rancher considered his dilemma before returning. "You know, that's not a half bad idea." He began thoughtfully.
"Tell me you're not serious?" The visitor returned with half a smirk at his dual jibe.
The rancher rolled his eyes. "I'll ignore the play on words, but yeah, I think it's a grand idea." He held up his hand placating as his guest leaned forward to begin arguing.
"I've been giving it some thought.. and I think the oppositions using Wraiths."
His quest paled at that. "Wraiths?" he questioned in an appalled tone of voice.
"Think about it? The damned things can move through walls like a ghost and anyone they're in contact with becomes temporarily disembodied at a molecular level. They could come into just about any home and steal away a single occupant, maybe even two if they were small enough. I don't think their power level could manage much more than an equal weight distribution, pound for pound, that is."
"Pound for pound?" His guest blurted out incredulously." They don't weigh anything to begin with."
"Wrong." The rancher returned blandly. "In their ethereal state their practically weightless, the same as any disembodied spirit, but they can solidify for short periods once they've fed."
"Then what's the purpose?" The guest shot back. "If the wraiths need nearly all the energy that their victims can provide in the first place, then why does the opposition even bother? What's left over for them to use?"
The rancher smiled a cold, knowing smile.
"Who says there anything more to it than just terrorizing the public, while creating a diversion at the same time? Think about it? Your people are stretched to their limits and the aurors are like the proverbial 'dyke boy'. Maybe that's all your adversary is aiming for. While you're busy trying to keep a lid on things, they're free to move forward with their own plans unhindered."
"Recruitment? Another large scale terrorist attack? Worse?" His quest conjectured.
The rancher shrugged indifferently. "Maybe all of the above, or worse?" He added cryptically.
Bjorn Dykstra drained his second beer as he surged to his feet.
"Damn it, Harry, we need you?" He began to argue, waving off the coming retort, he added.
"And don't start that "James Black" crap with me. You're Harry Potter and I'm not going to play along with your fantasy pretense to the contrary. Besides, it's a rather obvious use of your fathers and Godfather's names." he groused.
It was only nine months later and this was becoming a rather old argument.
"Obviously." Harry quipped in agreement. "I use the name to honor my forebears, as well you know. But,.. I digress. You don't need me, at least not yet. We both know how to kill a wraith. Just make a show of packing away the minister's family under the pretence that he's home recovering from some malady or another and that his family is tending to him. Hell, the opposition will be drooling over that one." He chirruped.
"Pack the minister's family off some place safe and have a few knights waiting at the Burrow to provide the wraiths a little entertainment when they show. Put Sanders on it, 'ghosties' are right up that dude's ally."
Bjorn smirked. "Dude?"
Harry shrugged. "It's a local euphemism, besides Jenna's generation likes it.
Bjorn rolled his eyes. "Don't remind me. Sometimes I can't even translate what my eldest daughter is talking about?" He complained.
"That's because you're not cool." Harry pointed out with a grin. "What do you think about my idea, though?"
"Sounds like a winner, as always." Bjorn agreed. He paused a moment and pulled a face.
"I'll have to put someone other than Sanders on it though?" Bjorn left off without explaining.
Harry caught the omission.
"Why?" he asked suspiciously.
Bjorn sighed and met Harry's eyes with his own troubled ones. "It would be a, er,.. a conflict of interest if I assigned Sanders to springing a trap at the Weasley home."
Harry's brows knit as he puzzled over his friends implication.
It didn't take long for the conclusion to hit him.
"Oh"
Bjorn wrung his hands through his slightly graying blond hair in frustration as he began to pace back and forth muttering his apologies.
"Christ, Harry,.. I'm sorry about this. This is my fault and I take full responsibility for it."
"How exactly is it your fault?" Harry asked cautiously, not liking the direction this conversation was going.
Bjorn rounded on him. "Isn't it obvious?" he blurted incredulously. "This whole damn scenario was my idea. I took you out of the mix and now look what's happened? Things are going to hell back in 'Jolly ol' England!" he quipped.
"I'm not sure we accomplished a damn thing, other than to give Sanders' a free shot to make a play on your girl." Bjorn spat disgustedly, slumping back into his chair with a defeated air.
Despite the churning in his stomach over the revelation that Ginny and Mike Sanders had started a romance, Harry attempted to alleviate his friend's anxiety.
"First off; she wasn't my girl."
Bjorn snorted derisively at that.
Ignoring his friend, he continued: "Secondly; only you and I are aware of the plan. The bastard/ bastards don't have a clue whether or not I'm still around or if I even pose any kind of a threat. I know these people. Let their arrogance get the better of them. Once they're confident that I'm out of it, they'll come out into the open. I should have a handle on this by then and the kids will be able to take care of themselves." Harry assured his friend.
Bjorn nodded. "What about Sanders? The boys and I have already talked to him about things. You know how we feel about wives and girlfriends; another Knight's girl is strictly 'off limits'. He's not happy about it, but he says he'll step aside if you've got a problem with it?"
Harry nodded appreciatively. "Leave Mike alone. If he makes Ginny happy, then I'm happy. But,.. " Harry paused and his voice turned to ice," If he makes her unhappy…?" he left off pointedly. His eyes nearly glowed with barely contained promised mayhem.
Bjorn nodded. "Understood, Harry. I'll tell him, but I'm sure he already knows. You don't need to worry too much about it though. That girl can take care of herself and if anything's left over, the boys' will be more than happy to finish clearing it away. "
After a few quiet moments of contemplation, Bjorn was the first to breech the silence.
"Are you sure this is how you want things,.. with Ms. Weasley, I mean?" he clarified.
"No,.. Yes, I,.. I really don't know?" Harry hesitated.
"I-I always had this dream that one day I'd actually survive and be free of that damn prophesy. Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys were all part of that dream." Harry snorted at the irony. "Funny thing about dreams; one day you wake up and it turns out it was just that, a dream,… or in some cases, a nightmare. I wish I could go back. Sometimes, I wish I could go back to that night and actually have stayed dead after Voldemort killed me. Better a dead hero or martyr even, than a live pariah."
"I know, Harry." Bjorn joined in sympathetically, but Harry didn't seem to notice. He was adrift in melancholy thoughts of 'what if' and 'might have beens'.
At least that's what was Bjorn thought until Harry dropped an unexpected bombshell.
"I almost did it you know?" he stated cryptically.
Bjorn found himself strangely frightened by the way Harry said that last.
"Almost did what, Harry?" he asked,, not really certain if he wanted to know where this was going.
"I-I'd just graduated from Strombridge. You remember, it was the day that Hermione came to see me?
Bjorn nodded.
Harry's eyes went vacant and he spook in a haunting monotone as he recalled the events of that day.
"Well, after,..Before I signed my contract with the ICW,… I went back home, to England. I wasn't even sure I could apparate all the way there in one go? I half considered that I'd splinch myself over the Atlantic and drown. I half didn't care."
Bjorn's face drained of all color as Harry continued his tale.
"I- I went to Gringott's to retrieve something I'd seen locked away in the Potter vault. I'd thought to use it to go back and try and change things. I- I don't know,… I thought that maybe if I could at least save Fred, then maybe….?" Harry left off there and knuckled away a betraying tear from the corner of his eye.
He's talking about time traveling back years? It'd be suicide to even try more than a few jumps at one time.
"Jesus, Harry,.. do you mean you've got a time turner?" Bjorn asked in a shaken voice.
Harry could conceivably use a time turner to go back a few hours at a time, or even days if a day traveling one still existed. But even with all of his magical strength; he wouldn't make it back more than a few rotations before his cells degraded at the molecular level and he simply ceased to exist.
Harry nodded. "An unrestricted one." he confirmed.
Bjorn's mouth worked silently in dread. He gaped at Harry as if he had just claimed conception of the Universe.
Time turners in themselves were beyond dangerous, but thankfully they had a safeguard built in that didn't allow for travel back thru time for more than three hours… and those were the ones beyond priceless. Kingdoms could be ransomed for such. Rarer still were the time turners that could transport its wearer back up to three days. The last such in existence were destroyed in the great wars of the middle ages. Rumors had abound that there was an unrestricted time turner conceived by Merlin himself, but like all things Merlin, it was considered just another fanciful tale.
Bjorn closed the distance between them slowly and carefully so as not to startle his young friend. Their conversation had already taken a drastically dangerous turn and the situation needed to be diffused immediately, albeit cautiously.
Harry Potter was a noble man. One most considered wise beyond his years, but he was also a man who despite his young life, had faced many life altering tragedies.
With that taken into account, no man had the wisdom to possess an unrestricted time turner.
Bjorn kneeled down in front of his young friend and carefully reached out and grasped his shoulders, looking deeply into his friend's suddenly curious green eyes.
"Harry, listen to me. I'm your friend, aren't I ? Your brother knight?"
Harry nodded, a bit of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Bjorn was so intense that he failed to note the quirk of a grin Harry was fighting to control.
"Then as your friend and brother, I want you to do something for me?" Bjorn continued carefully.
"You want me to destroy the time turner?" Harry surmised.
"I do, yes." Bjorn agreed.
"I,… I don't know?" Harry came back uncertainly.
Bjorn shook his head. "No, Harry. It has to be destroyed, now, today! I want you to take me to it and we'll destroy it together." he urged empathically.
Harry shook his head absently. "A-Alright, Bjorn, but we don't need to go anywhere. I have it right here?"
Bjorn's breath caught in his throat as Harry reached into the collar of his shirt and began to extract the necklace he was wearing.
Harry pulled out a round looking glass shaped charm on a golden chain. Bjorn had noticed the chain many times over the years, but he'd never really considered what Harry might have had hanging on that necklace, tucked safely down from view.
"You mean there?!" he gasped in shocked disbelief. "All this time?" he goggled at his young friend.
Harry nodded. "Sure, Bjorn. It's rather simple to use. All you have to do is…" Harry grasped the charm and made to turn it over in his hand.
"No, Don't!" Bjorn shrieked in alarm.
"Alright, jeez, calm down." Harry placated, fanning his hands. "I was only going to show you." Harry flipped over the charm before Bjorn could stop him.
The first knight winced in dread until Harry held his looking glass styled charm forward and said: "See on this side there's a picture of me, Ron and Mione after we all became friends our first year at Hogwarts."
"What the…?" Bjorn began to question, but Harry ignored him as he continued.
He flipped over the charm and another picture emerged from the looking glasses misty depth. This one showed a slightly older version of a filth covered Harry with a very young and teary Ginny Weasley.
"This was after I fought the basilisk my second year. I took the picture from a pensieve memory, bit tricky that, but it was worth it. Ginny was really cute, huh?"
Harry flipped the looking glass again and proudly displayed a picture of Bjorn and Emma holing up a newborn child wrapped in a boy's blue baby blanket.
"And this of course is you and Emma just after Jeff was born. See,.. I can go forward in time or if I turn it in the opposite direction it goes back to my early years when I was just a baby. It's perfectly safe." Harry reassured his friend with smirk that was desperately trying to break into a full out laugh.
"You ass!" Bjorn spat taking a half swipe at a now chortling Harry Potter.
"Damn it all, Harry, that's not funny." he complained, only causing Harry to snort louder.
"You scared the be-jee-bees out of me. I was half ready to take you into protective custody for your own safety you idiot."
"Oh-Oh,…Me-Me-Merlin,… this hurts." Harry choked out holding his sides. After several more minutes of Bjorn watching him disgustedly as he rolled around on the sofa struggling to get his rib cracking guffaws under control.
At long last, Harry was finally able to take a full breath.
"Whew!" he gasped, wiping his shirt sleeve across his teary eyes.
"If you've quite finished?" Bjorn asked drolly.
"T-The look on your face when I t-turned over that charm? Harry chuckled at his friend's expense. "I thought you were gonna piss yourself." Harry snorted.
"I almost did, thank you very much." Bjorn admitted irately.
Harry sobered a bit at his friend's expression. "Things must be serious over in England if you seriously don't find that even the least bit amusing?" Harry commented worriedly.
Bjorn shot him an exasperated look. "Merlin,.. haven't you been listening, Harry? People are stumbling in half dead from out of nowhere and we can't stop it. We've looked everywhere, exhausted every avenue, but we can't find the bastards responsible. It's like we're chasing a ghost or at the very least, a phantom!"
"You are." Harry confirmed. "For all intents and purposes that is exactly what you're chasing. Pull in the knights temporarily. Set a trap for the wraiths and leave off trying to find the party that's truly responsible for all the abductions and subsequent deaths. You can't kill them anyway, even if you caught them?" He returned assuredly.
"Bull shit!" Bjorn scoffed." If it bleeds, breaths or floats thru the walls, then the knights can put it down!" He boasted with a bit more certainty than he felt.
Harry shook his head and sighed his disagreement. "No,… you can't. What you're hunting is an abomination formed from the darkest, most foul of blood magics that a diseased mind must have once conceived of as a twisted answer to assuage its all consuming grief and despair. Grief, despair, vengeance; these emotions in the right proportions can drive a person to consider the unthinkable. Things like necromancy and time travel." Harry counseled pointedly.
Bjorn's gaze shifted toward his and held his eyes for a few moments, nodding his appreciation for Harry earlier gag which ended up being a teaching aid.
"How did you get so wise for one so young?" he asked, for not the first time.
"It comes at a heavy price sometimes."
Bjorn nodded, knowing all too well the heavy price Harry had paid in his young life, and continued to pay even now. He decided to ask something that he was sure he'd rather not know the answer to, but wanted to know anyway just for the sake of posterity.
"If you could,… if you had an unrestricted time turner? Would you,… you know?" Bjorn asked haltingly.
"What, and screw up things more than they already are?" Harry quipped. "No Thanks."
Bjorn blew out a cleansing breath of relief. "Good"
After a comfortable pause, Bjorn mentioned another subject that he knew wouldn't be well accepted, though why he couldn't quite fathom.
"Emma and the kids say, Hi." Bjorn threw out airily.
Harry nodded. "Tell them I said , Hi, too."
"Emma wants you to come home with me?" he offered amenably.
"Tell her I appreciate the offer, but I am home and quite comfortable to remain so." Harry's tone implied the subject was not open for debate, but Bjorn pressed on anyway. If he didn't his wife would never let him hear the end of it. Not that she'd let him hear the end of it if he came home without Harry any way.
"She's worried about you, Harry. We all are."
Harry raised his eyebrows in a condescending fashion. "Don't I look alright? You, yourself asked if I'd lead a mission, not twenty minutes ago."
"There's alright, and then there's alright."
Harry snorted at the contradiction. "Since physically speaking we both already now that I'm probably stronger than I've ever been and you, yourself have proclaimed me as 'wise beyond my years'." Harry intoned in a mock ominous fashion before adding. "I assume you're intimating psychological health, correct?"
"You're all alone out here. You're needlessly exposed…"
Harry snorted as he objected. "And being unexposed and making your family a target is a better thing? I'm hardly alone or in any imminent danger. I have Sara and the kids here. They take up quite a bit of my time when I'm not training."
"I could order your return to Confederate Headquarters?" Bjorn challenged.
"You'd be wasting your time. I resigned, remember?"
"I never accepted your resignation, remember." Bjorn mockingly returned.
"My contract expired three months ago, so whether you accepted or not; I'm legally civilian now and content to remain so if the Confederation's illustrious 'First Knight' can so freely abuse his authority by trying to conscript private citizens in their own home. Such poor manners." he admonished in a distasteful tone. " I thought knights are supposed to be gallant?"
"That was low." Bjorn groused.
"So was trying to use Emma and the kids to play on my sympathies." Harry returned pointedly.
"Touché, but… the offer was a genuine one and she and the kids are worried. They miss you terribly and whether you wish to acknowledge it or not, you're family and we have a right to worry about you."
Harry stared at him a long time before lowering his eyes and answering dourly. "I miss them too, but for now I'm where I need to be. I've got to get this down right. This training is not like anything I've ever done before. I'm only gonna get one shot at this, if I don't get it right the first time…?" He left off his unspoken fears of failure.
Bjon quirked a half smile as he reassured his young friend. "You will, Harry. You always do."
"I-I'll stop in this weekend, maybe? Just for a quick visit though?" Harry suggested with a bit of trepidation.
"Saturday would be nice. The kids' be ecstatic, especially if you bring Sara and the kids."
Harry nodded echoing. "Saturday"
Bjorn was about to excuse himself, but decided instead to play his trump card.
"She'll most likely deliver in a few hours, maybe less." he mentioned with a practiced vagueness.
Harry nodded his agreement, his eyes never rising from the floor.
"They've asked for the 'Knight's Blessing' for their child. Given the history, I've approved their request." Bjorn added pointedly.
Harry's back stiffened at that.
Direct hit! Bjorn howled in silent triumph.
"What virtue are you going to bestow?" Harry asked curiously.
"They want you to do the honors."Bjorn clarified.
Harry's head shot up at that. "Me, but, I'm not a knight? Why would they even ask, unless they suspect that I could still wield some form of magic?" Harry added, growling accusingly.
Bjorn held up his hands in a placating gesture." As to the former; they believe as we all do; Once a knight, always a knight. As for the later; both of them believe that you will find a way."
Harry snorted in disbelief at this assumption.
"Their faith in you is unshakable." Bjorn added with no little appreciation for his friend's loyalties at this junction.
Harry's eyes flashed at that. "It is, is it? Where was this "unshakable faith" when I was vilified and condemned to loneliness and despair?"
"That was then, this is now. People change, you should understand this better than most. Besides, the child is innocent into the world. Will you condemn an innocent child for the supposed crimes of the parent, real or no?"
He could see his words had hit the mark and stuck deep.
"W-What virtue have they requested?" Harry asked in reluctant surrender.
Bjorn smiled conspiratorially. "I'll let them tell you. Do you require the loan of my blade?"
It was Harry's turn to smile with hidden knowledge. "I'll manage."
Hours later in the delivery ward at St. Mungo's …
"You're never going to touch me again!" Hermione's voice echoed down the hallway.
"Awe, 'Mione?" Ron pleaded.
"Don't, "awe, 'Mione" me, you git! This is all your faul-faul-fault! Ohhhhh, not again!" She wailed in obvious agony.
Owe,…OWE,…OWE !" Ron screamed out in growing pain and fear.
"LET GO 'MIONE!" he pleaded with alarming desperation.
"What she doing to him, mum?" Ginny asked her mother worriedly.
"You'll never make any magic with that wand again!" Hermione howled in triumph through her pain.
"Oh" Ginny gasped, trying to stifle a laugh.
Her brothers were already rolling on the floor of the waiting room, great howls of laughter all but drowning out the unfolding drama within the adjacent birthing room.
"OHHH… !"
Does it hurt bad, luv?' Ron asked feebly.
"No, it hurts good. You prat!" Hermione hissed through clenched teeth.
"OHHH… Make it stop!" George choked out mimicking Hermione's laments as he clutched his sides to brace himself from another painful bout of laughter at his younger brother's expense.
"Fred would've loved this." Charlie managed to snigger.
"He'd run out and buy a pensieve to preserve the memory for posterity's sake." Bill agreed chortling.
"Oh, God,… it's coming!" Hermione wailed in agony.
"Thank God!"Ron added, gasping in abject relief.
"Please, God, just a bit longer." Percy pleadingly snorted out before another fresh round of laughter seized the siblings.
The boys' laughter abruptly ceased when the birthing room went ominously quiet.
SWACK!
A newborn's wail echoed down the hallway, soon followed by a cheer from the gathered family that filled the waiting room beyond capacity.
Scant minutes later...
CLICK…..CLICK…..CLICK
Booted footfalls echoed from a powerful stride heading towards the celebrants.
The gathering went quiet, holding their breath in anticipation of the boot owner's arrival.
A blonde haired, blue eyed knight with sculpted features came to a halt at the waiting room door. If he noticed the disappointed sighs from those gathered within, he never betrayed it.
"The Weasley's " he asked politely with an American accent.
Arthur Weasley stepped forward. "I believe you're looking for Ron and Hermione Weasley, Lord Knight." He gestured toward the adjacent birthing room.
The knight nodded his thanks and turned with a swirl of his cape and disappeared into the indicated room.
He paused in the door way to appreciate the scene before him. A sweat soaked mane of chestnut hair adorned the head of a completely exhausted, but otherwise absolutely glowing mother of a new born child held tenderly to her breast. Her finger gently smoothed a tuft of reddish hair as she cooed and nuzzled her child whilst a proud father looked on, knuckling a tear from the corner of his eye with one hand and gently rubbed circles over his wife's back as he gushed his admiration for all she'd wrought.
He shouldn't have come, but how could he not? Part of him screamed, 'Leave now before they're even aware of your presence'. Another part begged him to stay and see it thru. Reclaim his place in their lives....
He could never forget, but could he at least forgive? Hadn't he already? But for his pride and his stupid "nobility complex"; that could be him fit to crow over his own new born 'red headed' child had things gone the way he once envisioned.
Summoning the last vestiges of his waning courage, he cleared his throat and stepped fully into view.
"My apologies for disturbing the peace and joy of this moment, but if a 'knight's blessing' is to be successfully performed, it must be within the hour of a child's first breath of life."
A 'knight's blessing' is an ancient right of bequeathal wherein a chosen champion blesses a new born child with the gift of virtue; a particular virtue for which said knight is noted. A summoning spell, in the tongue rumored to come from ancient Atlantis itself, is used to draw the essence of the knight and direct the seed of his virtue into the child's heart and mind where it will germinate and grow as the child does, to one day flourish within the offspring's character.
Most knights exhibit an abundance of characteristic virtues, however, usually one such is more dominant than all the rest.
In the time of Merlin; Galahad was noted for his purity; Lancelot for courage, ect….
The new parents turned to the questing voice, neither appeared startled by the interruption, nor did they appear wholly appreciative.
"Oh,.. but I thought, well,.. we were expecting another knight?" The mother questioned absently, her disappointment showing.
The young knight ignored the slight, explaining. "The first knight asked me to come, though I'm not really sure what virtue I possess that you could possibly want for your child?"
The new parents shared a look and the new father answered. "Perseverance"
"Perseverance?" The knight returned uncertainly. "One might actually call that a curse rather than a virtue."
"We ask that our child be granted the gift that his name sake embodies; a man who never gives up, never gives in. One who stays the course no matter the hardship it entails. A man who always does what is right, not what is easy. I would ask that he be granted the perseverance of which his namesake embodies."Hermione's steadfast reply was tinged with both hope and regret.
Swallowing a lump in his throat, he asked tremulously through his curiosity, "H-His namesake?"
The mother nodded and grasped her husband's hand as she announced proudly. "We've named our son after one of your own. His name is Harry, Harry Weasley. He is named after Harry Potter."
The young knight's jaw worked soundlessly, beneath eyes suddenly moist.
"I,.. er.. we,…" he haltingly amended, "..are honored by your choice to so immortalize one who once was of our own, but perhaps you might wish to reconsider?" he added hopefully.
The mother shook her head, adamant in her choice.
The knight pressed further. "That name tends to draw unwanted attention, both benign and malevolent. He would need an abundance of perseverance if he were to carry the burden that comes with such a title. Perhaps you might consider the name of one of your two father's or even a brother perhaps?" He suggested.
"He's all ready is named after our brother." The new father returned with absolute conviction.
The knight's face paled at that.
"What will you tell the child when he is teased for no more than the name he bears?" The young knight asked cryptically. "That name carries a heavy price. What would you have him know of it?"
"He will grow to know everything that's important to know." Hermione returned emphatically.
"For I will tell him. I will tell him about the boy I met on the Hogwart's express. A boy who knew nothing of our world, yet he gratefully entered it for it couldn't have possibly been worse than the one he left behind. I will tell him how this boy and his best friend rescued a young, buck toothed 'know it all' from a mountain troll, and in so doing forged a friendship between the three that became legendary." Hermione paused to grasp her husband's hand in support.
Ron continued. "I will tell him how they became known as the 'Golden Trio'. How they rescued the Sorcerer's stone our first year. This same boy saved my sister from a basilisk his second year. Defeated a hundred dementors and rescued his Godfather his third year. Became a tri-wizard's champion his fourth year and was cursed to watch a friend die and a monster rise again. We will tell our child how this same boy became a 'Champion of the Light' and went on to ultimately defeat that same monster and bring peace to our realm at the cost of his own peace, his own heart. I would have our son know what adventure truly means and the sacrifices one must make to see it through. I would have him know the true meaning of perseverance and how it is fueled into being by the greatest of love. The love for one's fellow man at the cost of all that is dear to one's own self. Can anyone ask a greater blessing for their child than this?" Ron finished sagely, sharing a knowing smile with his beaming wife.
After long moments, the young knight agreed. "Very well. Who is to be the child's godmother?"
"Our sister, Ginevra Weasley." they chimed together.
The young knight nodded his understanding.
Now the hard part. Please, Merlin, don't let it be so? He prayed silently to himself.
"And the Godfather?" He fought to control the trembling of his voice.
"We would have his namesake assume that honor, though we have yet to be able to ask him?' Ron answered apprehensively.
The young knight staggered at that, but quickly recovered himself, too late, as both parent's caught his startled reaction.
"And if he should refuse, then whom would you choose?" the young knight questioned hopefully.
"If not him, than no one." Hermione acknowledged stubbornly, a smile etched the corner of her mouth.
Her eyes surreptitiously caught Ron's and he imperceptivity nodded his agreement with her growing suspicions.
"Is the Godmother, to be, available?" the young knight asked thoughtfully.
"She's outside in the waiting room with the rest of the family. I'll just be a moment." Ron went to retrieve his sister.
Comfortable moments passed as the young knight watched the new mother coo softly to the child nestled in her arms.
"He's a handsome lad." The knight complemented. Breaking the quiet.
Hermione nodded her appreciation.
"Wouldn't you like to hold your nephew, Harry?" she asked with calm certainty.
"How long have you known?" he asked in return without pretense.
"I've suspected from the moment you walked into the room. No one moves quite like you do, with such power and confidence. You're reaction to our choice of Godfather sealed it. After that I had no doubt as to your true identity. I wish you would drop the glamour and look at your namesake with your own eyes."
Harry shook his head in his reluctance as he explained. "It's dangerous, my presence here. More so if it becomes known that you've named your son after me, doubly so if I assume the mantle of Godfather. I'm asking you one last time to reconsider your decision? I b-beg it of you?' Harry's voice cracked in plea, his moist eyes silently begging her to acquiesce.
Hermione only shook her head adamantly; a strange smile lit her features.
A moment later, he understood its source.
"There's no one I'd rather share this sacred duty with." A lilting voice sounded from behind as a gentle pair of hands traveled around his torso and pulled him backward into a hug.
He could feel Ginny's demure form press into his back, molding herself to the contours of his powerful frame and sighing gently as her face nuzzled into the hollow of his back.
Harry shuddered from the contact.
"G-Ginny, I…P-Please…?" He stammered.
"Harry." She whispered, tightening her hold.
"B-But Sanders? He…. You ?" Harry struggled to make himself understood, trying vainly too avoid the inevitable.
"Sanders?" Ginny stepped back, embarrassed by the fact that he knew about her having initially dated: Knight Michael Sanders. It was only a friendly outing at the time and if she were honest with herself; she'd half gone just to see if Harry would so much as notice. It hadn't felt like a betrayal then, but seeing his reaction now… ?
"Harry, really?" Hermione goaded, attempting to distract him from the discomfort his questions were having on Ginny, by diverting attention to his glamoured appearence. "A blonde?" she half snorted, trying to turn the conversation aside.
"It hardly matters to me just whom Ginny spends her time with." He pressed on, not to be dissuaded. "There's absolutely no reason it should have any bearing on me." Harry disagreed. "I'm only here because a stubborn, 'bushy-haired know-it-all', got an infuriating First Knight and his exasperating wife on my case."
"I knew I should have enlisted Emma sooner." Hermione berated herself for the oversight.
"Thanks" Harry returned sarcastically.
"My pleasure" Hermione demurred, grinning triumphantly.
Sighing, Harry conceded this one point. He snapped his fingers and the glamour he'd been wearing melted away to reveal his true appearance.
His piercing green eyes shown out beneath night black hair cut in a short military style. His face was more angular and his jaw had a powerful set. His former nondescript uniform was replaced by a blouse stretched tight over a powerful chest that gleamed with medals and ribbons that covered the entire left chest of his sleeveless tunic. A flowing crimson cape was draped over his left shoulder, freeing his sword for an unhindered draw. The sword he wore was silver hued and glowed with a life and vitality of all its own. It was the exact opposite on a Confederation Knight's standard: ebony blade. A pair of silver wrought bracers adorned his muscled forearms, beneath steel hard biceps. Each bracer was embossed with a scene denoting one of his past battles. One such; a young man, (a boy really), with sword in hand, stood protectively over a young girl, shielding her from a gigantic snake. The other; a knight knelt in near defeat as he held an entire section of a stadium aloft by the sheer will of his flagging magic, saving all within. Tailored black slacks that tightened over well developed quadriceps ended, tucked into night, black dragon hide boots that gleamed coolly.
Ginny thought back to Bjorn Dykstra's pronouncement that a "knight in full dress uniform was a sight to behold" that epitaph did not do justice to the man who stood before her radiating grace and power.
She'd already seen Mike in his dress uniform, the sight of it made her pulse quicken, but this?
Despite her best efforts, she could feel a telltale blush suffuse her cheeks and her heart raced.
Startlingly, Harry stepped forward and brushed a hard knuckle gently down her reddening cheek and wrongly assumed:
"I know, I'm not much to look at what with all the scars and such, you don't need to feel embarrassed. A lot of people respond this way when they see me at first. I've gotten used to it."
Scars,…what is he talking about? Merlin above?! The man actually has no idea?
"Harry, you look absolutely gorgeous!" Ginny blurted out without thinking, causing her blush to deepen exponentially.
It was almost as dark red and full as the one Harry now wore.
'GO GINNY GO', Hermione cheered silently from her bed.
"I-It's only window dressing, Ginny" Harry shrugged indifferently, belittling himself in the process.
"Bjorn says it's "the man who wears the uniform, the uniform doesn't wear the man". she quoted coyly.
Harry grinned at that. "He does, does he?"
Ginny nodded, wetting her lips enticingly.
Harry stared at her mesmerized. There was such deep set longing in his eyes.
"I take it Mike Sanders wears his uniform well, then?" He asked dispassionately, erasing the suggestive smile from Ginny's face.
"Harry,…I..?" Ginny struggled to explain but he cut her off disinterested.
"It doesn't matter, in the greater scheme of things and has no bearing on my presence here this evening."
Harry turned his attention pointedly away from Ginny's dejected self and questioned Ron and Hermione again.
"Are you sure this is what you want? I cannot undo this once it's been done, nor can I control to what extent the gift I grant is utilized. He could well persevere to the point of his own doom one day." Harry warned them vehemently.
Ron and Hermione shared a look of mutual agreement, before nodding they're acceptance.
"So be it, then." Harry agreed grimly.
"The three of you need to place a hand upon the child." Harry instructed and each moved to comply.
"Now concentrate on your love for the child let it strengthen your resolve as it infuses him with your calming reassurance.
"Will this hurt him?" Hermione blurted in alarmed misunderstanding.
Harry's face soured at that. "I would never harm a child!" he declared indignantly, obviously offended by her assumption.
Hermione lowered her eyes, ashamed of herself.
Harry explained.
"He is newly among us and his understanding of the world around him is at its most innocent. What we propose to do will be a new experience and like all new experiences, can be frightening in its unfamiliarity. Your thoughts of love and warmth will calm him and make the experience an enjoyable one, not only for him but for you all. Now concentrate on what you feel in your heart and project it to the child. Will your hearts to his."
Starling the others; Harry began to sing softly. His voice surrounded and comforted them like a warm blanket on a storm swept night.
He sang a tale of ages past when knights first walked the land and men survived by the strength of their arms and the courage of their hearts. His voice rose slowly with the intensity of his song.
Ron, Hermione and Ginny stared transfixed as Harry's singing wove a spell that permeated their mind and hearts, filling the room with magic that sparkled in the air like dust motes on the breeze. It pulsed in waves around them, beating along in sentient rhythm with the melody of his voice.
At the crescendo of his song, a burst of pure silver energy burst from Harry's entire being like a solar flare.
The light faded as it seeped thru his parents and guardian's hands and absorbed into the chest of Ron and Hermione's newborn son, who sighed contently and drifted to sleep with the most curiously contented expression on his tiny face.
Ron pulled his hand away and stared wide eyed at his fingers."Whoa" he exclaimed in abject wonder.
"H-Harry,… that was b-beautiful." Hermione added breathlessly.
Harry quirked a half smile and shrugged his gratitude at the praise.
"But what was that?" Ginny asked, still staring at her tingling fingers completely stymied by the experience.
Before Harry could formulate a response, Ginny added wistfully. "And your voice, it was so beautiful. I swear I could feel your voice melt right into my heart. I can still feel it!" Ginny gasped in delighted disbelief.
"It was what you asked for; a knight's blessing."Harry answered incredulously with a hint of a knowing grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.
He had that same sort of expression on his face back in school, when he was the author of a particularly brilliant prank which no one could quite figure out. Years melted from his features and for a brief moment they were afforded a glimpse of another Harry from another time, a time when just the company of friends was enough to lighten the heart.
"That was more than a knight's blessing, Harry." Hermione challenged, her gaze scrutinizing him closely. "I couldn't even recognize the language you were singing in?" She admitted disgruntled.
"Atlantean" Harry answered simply.
"Atlantean!" Hermione blurted out in total shock. "That's impossible. Scholars have been trying to decipher the scrolls of Atlantis for millennia and they haven't been able to interpret a single page. How could you possibly…?"
Her fiancé's warning hand grasping her shoulder and nod toward their child calmed her before she could startle their child awake, though the baby had not stirred in the least during her tirade.
Harry shook his head and murmured "New mothers", garnishing a snort from Ginny's direction.
Hermione glared at Harry with impotent venom.
He knew she would not risk waking the baby by going off again.
"Such a suspicious nature." Harry goaded her. "Believe as you wish, Hermione, but, it was Atlantean and it was a blessing,… with a little extra something thrown in as a birthday gift." he added sheepishly.
"A little something extra?" Ron echoed, raising a questioning eyebrow.
"What did you do?" Hermione hissed in alarm.
Harry pretended to study his finger nails as he answered off handily. "Knight's blessing- Knight's prerogative."
As if that explained everything.
"What did you do?" Hermione growled growled again, only more impatiently.
Seeing that she was at the end of her tether, he relented. "Honestly" he gasped in exasperation in a 'dead on' imitation of Hermione's voice and mannerisms when she went into lecture mode.
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him as the other two adults in the room chuckled appreciatively at her expense.
"What good is it to bestow "perseverance" without the wisdom to guide one's actions? I merely gave young Harry a bit to draw on for future reference."
" What-Did-You-Do?" Hermione growled under her breath as her hand searched her linens for her missing wand.
"I gave him a few memories that will help him discern exactly what it means to "persevere"."
He made quotation marks in the air to emphasize his words.
"What memories? Harry,.. you didn't,..not Voldemort?!" Hermione gasped worriedly, clutching her sleeping son tightly to her breast.
Harry blanched at that. "Of course I didn't?" He retorted. "I gave him a few glimpses of his parents. It's sort of a greatest hits reel. I shared the memories of Ron and the chess set our first year and your petrified self our second year; when you had the clue about the 'basilisk' clutched in your frozen hand." He reminded her before continuing.
"Things of that nature. I threw in an episode or two of Ginny and the twins. I thought he might appreciate a firsthand peek of his family rising above strife and championing victory. I know it's something I wish I had for myself from my own past."
Ginny startled at hearing that he'd thoughtfully added her. It was a gift beyond priceless and judging by the way Hermione was openly crying and Ron was wiping at his own eyes, they knew it too.
"But what about you Harry?" Ginny asked incredulously. "Didn't you add any of your own experiences?"
Harry shook his head. "I gave him the best of what I had to offer. Young boys need guidance, not nightmares." he replied in a dead monotone.
"It's up to him what he does with the knowledge. How he utilizes it to guide him in his life is his choice. Judging by the character of his parents and extended family, I'd say he'll make the most of it and be all the better for it. The memories will present themselves in his mind's eye, like his own personal pensieve. All he need do to access the memories is recite the activation word three times in succession."he instructed.
"What's the activation word?" Ron asked.
Harry only smiled by way of answer. His eyes twinkled in that same infuriating way that Dumbledore's use to, when the headmaster knew a secret that he wasn't yet willing to divulge.
"B-But, Harry….?" Hermione collected herself enough to try and argue against his decision to not add his own experiences.
Harry held up a hand to forestall her. "It is done and cannot be undone. I've done what was asked of me, and proudly so. I apologize if it displeases you. I shall take my leave." he closed the debate abruptly, obviously feeling slighted and under appreciated by their reaction. They couldn' know what it took for him to come here nor the immense drain such a simple undertaking was for him at this time.
Harry nodded his regrets and with a swirl of his cape, he disappeared into the shadowed doorway to the hall outside.
Ginny bolted after him calling his name desperately, but he was already gone. Gone, except for the sound of hollow boot falls echoing down the empty hall ominously,… disappearing into the nether like some phantom specter.
She stumbled back into the room, bravely trying to smile reassuringly despite the heartache she felt.
Hermione was nursing a now awake and 'Weasley ravenous' little Harry, with Ron looking fondly on.
They murmured quietly, lovingly to one another, sharing tender touches between themselves and their son.
But for one moment of uncertainty, that could be her nursing a baby of her own, a baby with raven black hair. The color of hair from the only man she'd ever contemplated having children with.
The tears she fought to hold back came despite her best efforts.
Hermione reached out her hand beckoningly to her future sister in law. Her eyes filled with compassion for her best friend.
Ginny scrubbed at her eyes as she moved to take her future sister's hand.
"Oh, Ginny…." Hermione sighed.
"When he sang,.. and his voice? Merlin above, that was beautiful." Ron pronounced, stunning the two women with his input.
"What?" Ron asked incredulously.
Hermione shook herself regaining her focus. "He was singing for little Harry, but his eyes never left Ginny and I could see it in his face that he was putting his entire being into that song." She reiterated the point she was going to make moments ago.
"D-Do you really think so?' Ginny stammered hopefully.
Hermione squeezed her hand. "I know so."
"What was that magic?" Ron questioned. "I've never heard of anything like that, let alone seen it with my own eyes.
"That was magic at its purest form." Hermione smiled knowingly. "Or I should say; that was magic at its purest form for Harry. The breathtaking light that filled the room with its love and warmth, I'd bet anything that, that was Harry's magical core, his soul."