Chapter 9 – Resolution
Standard Disclaimer: All story characters and plot devices belong to JK Rowling.
Summary: Harry awoke in Japan at the temple of Mt. Hiei, home of the Japanese ancient wizards. After having their magic bound, their descendants devoted their lives to becoming martial artists. Both his healer and his son belong to the order and continue Harry's training. He learned that it was the Pureblood families that exterminated the arcane lines and that as an unknown Peverell he is the last remaining Magi. Kenji, Hideki's son and the most powerful of the order, has begun to train Harry's body and develop a hard edge to him.
A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews and comments, keep them coming. I know a lot of you are wondering about Ginny and Harry. Be patient is all I ask, I haven't let you all down yet!
Hermione eyed the small leather shoe with a healthy bit of disdain. She knew the trouble Kingsley had gone through to secure a direct International portkey back to Britain now that they had found her parents, but she hated portkey travel. She gave a small smile to Ron as they counted down the time prior to activation. Ron had been great before and especially during the meeting and subsequent confrontation with her parents. Him being great was part of her confusion; it seemed he had a maturation that went unnoticed by everyone and in so doing began to fill the void left by Harry.
She felt a bit ashamed that Harry hadn't crossed her mind since the Daily Prophet article and floo call, and of course the one time that Ron brought him up with her parents. She hardly ever brought up Harry with Ron in any meaningful context fearing that her confused feelings for him would be impossible to ignore. The old Ron would have immediately been threatened, but this new Ron seemed more at ease with himself and accepting of whatever her feelings may be. For that she was grateful and hoped that they could heal each other. Hermione wistfully remembered how much Ron had changed in just the past few weeks here in Australia.
Ron was sitting in the sitting area of the Granger's Australian home gritting his teeth so hard his jaw was aching. He knew her parents would be angry and Hermione's fears about them feeling betrayed were realized shortly after their memories recovered. Knowing they would be mad and hearing their wrath from inside the kitchen were two different situations altogether. Didn't they realize that she protected them from probable torture and death by sending them away? Of course, it would have been ideal if she had told them it was going to happen, but in the end it worked and they were safe. The fact that he considered Hermione his girlfriend also influenced how he saw the situation, but she was the smartest witch of her age and if this was the best solution then so be it. Now that Ron considered more than his own selfish needs, the striking similarities between what Hermione and Harry did seemed all too evident.
FUCK, I am such a damn hypocrite. My best mate did the same thing and I railed against him, now my girlfriend does it and I am defending her. Ginny couldn't see it then and maybe ever, but now he could see how much anguish it must have caused Harry to push his sister away from him. Ron would store that apology away for later, if he ever saw his best mate again. He angrily stood up and marched towards the kitchen door. Something that Harry always showed him was, it was never too late to do the right thing, and that his bravery would see Ron through practically any situation, including this one.
Hermione was in tears as her parents continued to berate her with reasons for their anger, when she heard the creak of the kitchen door as it opened. Ron stood quietly in the corner; flashed her a grimacing smile and cleared his throat softly.
"Mr. and Mrs. Granger?" The verbal tirade didn't stop at his timid request, if anything the vitriol increased.
"Mr. and Mrs. Granger?" Ron had to count to ten before he exploded in anger when he went ignored again.
"MR. and MRS. GRANGER!" Ron was beyond furious and yelling did feel appropriate; only afterwards did he realize that these were the same parents he would need to meet for Sunday dinners and such if things went well with Hermione. The nervous shudder at how things turned out would hit him as they were waiting for that same portkey the next day. However his girlfriend's helpless face spurred Ron on, storming to the middle of the kitchen and drawing himself up to his impressive height.
"I will talk and you will listen! Hermione is your daughter, your only child, and she did what she thought was right. We were at war, do you understand that? A war you couldn't possibly fathom. People died, MY BROTHER DIED! So never think that you knew best how to the handle the situation. She kept you safe! She knew you would be targets and so she sent you away. Have you noticed that Harry isn't here, do you know why?" Ron's anger and frustration at losing Harry seeped into every word he was lashing Hermione's parents with.
"DO. YOU. KNOW. WHY? Harry isn't here because he may never recover from the war. It cost him everything." Ron's voice softened when he looked at Hermione with a look of pure love and sympathy. "Your daughter lost the only true friend that she had since she started at Hogwarts; she sent you away so she wouldn't lose you too."
Ron's anger burned itself out, and he was just left with a gaping hole where his best mate should have been. Voicing the awful truth about Harry made it too real, too quickly. Before the tears would force themselves out, he slowly left the home and sat on the stairs leading to the front porch. In the silence that followed in the kitchen, Hermione got up and followed her boyfriend out into the cold.
She found him, head in his hands, on the stairs, looking straight out into the bleak Australian winter. Tears streamed down his face. "Ron …" she said quietly as she sat down beside him and forced her way into his gaze. She softly slipped her hand into his and drew his hand down from his face. She could see the hurt and adoration in his eyes. She leaned forward and gave him a soft kiss on the lips, a far cry from the passionate kiss after they won the war.
This wasn't a cathartic moment; it was an attempt to show her caring, and what she hoped could turn to love. She sighed contentedly into Ron's lips as it was soft and warm and very, very nice. But it isn't Harry. She barely kept her head from snapping away from Ron's as that realization raced through her mind. She held it together by reminding herself that it wouldn't be Harry, but Ron could become that, and most importantly that wasn't the type of kiss she wanted right now. Those three logical reasons quieted Hermione's mind for the moment as she also regarded the bleak winter landscape.
The Burrow was full of excitement when they received the floo call from Ron. They had found Hermione's parents and while it was not a smooth recovery; her parents' memories had returned and decided to return to Britain. However, because of the arguments between them, Mr. and Mrs. Granger would spend their time at Shell Cottage with Bill and Fleur with Hermione and Ron staying at the Burrow. The tension was too high and emotions were much too raw for now.
Molly was happy, her youngest son was returning and while it would not make up for the loss of Fred, it was a cause for celebration. Something positive to cling to amidst all the turmoil and sadness was a powerful gift. Ron's return was obviously important for Ginny because despite the fact they argued, she loved him and he was a reminder of Harry. Hermione's return was more questionable for Ginny. They were best friends tied together for their common love and understanding of Harry.
Normally she would have thought nothing of it, but Hermione's verbal lashing of her at the reading of the letters coupled with the absolutely furious look Harry gave his best friend when excoriating them both at Fred's funeral made her think something was different between them. So it became a cause of friction as well, Hermione had the closeness to Harry that Ginny craved; the bushy haired witch was never the fan girl or obsessed with his scar or fame. Hermione and Harry shared seven years of genuine caring and honesty, something that Ginny had just managed over two years ago.
Whether or not Hermione ever had real feelings for Harry, she wasn't sure, but Ginny did know that now her own mind was made up. She would fight for him, even if it meant clearing the air with her best friend and figuring out where she stood and what her feelings for her brother and Harry were. It was ironic because it was Hermione that told her to be herself and get Harry to notice her for who she was, which led in part to this mess right now.
As her brother and Hermione entered the wards for the Burrow, the Weasleys were shocked to notice them holding hands, even if a bit nervously. Ginny couldn't help but smile both at her brother's boldness, which would occupy their mother's considerable nosiness, and at the burgeoning relationship for Hermione. It would not preclude the bloodletting of emotions for the two of them, but hopefully it would make it easier. Ginny's smile matched her brother's when she gave him a quick thumbs up.
Ginny wasn't the only Weasley who's guilt and emotions were assuaged by the blossoming relationship; George was relieved they found her parents and hoped that would justify and mitigate the large amount of apologizing he would have to do for his lies a few weeks earlier.
Ginny waved over at her older brother, she needed Hermione's undivided attention so whatever amends he wanted to make would have to wait. After the hugs, tears, general teasing and wolf whistles regarding Ron and Hermione's relationship, everyone settled into the kitchen for butter beers and snacks. The questions were fast and furious about Australia and where her parents were. Ron mercifully answered most of those as well as explained the situation of her parents. It wasn't lost on anyone how fiercely protective and caring Ron was about her.
All of the Weasleys caught each other's eyes at some point during the friendly interrogation when Ron would stand up in defense of his girlfriend. To get some real answers, Ginny would need Hermione on her own, so as they began to disperse after the initial congratulations, she motioned over to her brother's girlfriend to take a walk outside.
As the stepped away from the Burrow and walked towards the lake, Ginny was measuring the steps before she would unleash her questions.
Obviously Hermione could tell something was wrong, they weren't best friends despite recent events for nothing. As they traveled out of earshot of the Burrow, she turned to the red-haired witch and asked, "Ginny, what is it, what's the matter?"
What a loaded question. Ginny thought about her most pressing question. "What changed about you and Harry after the battle?" There that encompassed pretty much everything, why Hermione was such a raging bitch to me recently, why Harry disappeared that night, and whether my fears about the two of them were real.
Hermione sighed, all the euphoria from being with Ron and returning to the Weasley's evaporated. She braced herself for the anger from Ginny as she wondered how brutally honest she should be. Quick, like ripping off a bandage. Ginny's tough, she'll be able to take it.
"Nothing happened when on the run, but when he came back and saw you and Dean … he was crushed. He needed to know he was forgiven and worth all of the death around him. We … we kissed, briefly. He was desperate to feel anything from anyone. It didn't mean anything." To him. Hermione finished quickly so Ginny would have to hear the whole explanation before exploding.
Ginny's face was rigid with tightly wound fury and her narrow eyes would have pierced Hermione on the spot. She knew that Harry coped the same way she did, but to imagine Hermione's lips on Harry's clenched her stomach in a painful way. If she hadn't felt Harry's raw emotional love infuse her body, Ginny would have hexed or even cursed her best friend. It didn't absolve her anger, but it made her less jealous than she thought it would. Maybe this was karmic retribution for using Dean, she saw the similarities vaguely and knew people had to cope the only way they could. I should be mad at Harry too, but there is no doubting his feelings, so maybe it is exactly the way she says it is … I'll need to snog him properly next time if only to get that image of them out of my mind.
Her Weasley temper was simmering but not exploding, a fact that amazed Hermione. She tentatively ventured a question to her best friend, "Something is different with you too. What happened when you met with Harry? What was he like?" Ginny saw the desperation in Hermione's face and couldn't lie to her. She was laid bare also when Harry came back for the funeral.
"Harry was delirious and never regained consciousness and had suffered some really bad injuries from that battle at the clinic. His healer was still with him, but we touched and he gave me something of himself. Part of his magic, his love, call it whatever, but I trust in it. I understand why he left and took you and Ron with him, and while it still bothers me I won't let it stop me from how I feel about him."
Hermione's shoulders slumped when hearing of Harry's condition, it was in stark contrast to the lie George told and caught her off guard. The guilt of happily stashed away with Ron in Australia while her best friend was fighting for his life almost made her throw up on the spot. She thought that everyone had made up and that things would be as normal as Harry's condition would allow, but to hear that he could be dying … it terrified her and she wondered if she would ever see him again.
Ginny understood that fear; it was the same fear that stole away her breath when she first saw Harry prone at Grimmauld Place. Maybe it was the last vestiges of Harry's love or nobility within her, but she found herself pulling Hermione into a consoling embrace. They both missed Harry terribly, for whatever reasons didn't matter at that moment. As they both blinked back tears, Ginny finally asked the other question she needed to know, "You and Ron, really?"
The Burning Lady was in a flurry of activity over the last few weeks. Both Rookwood and Dolohov were consistent customers fleshing out their plans for the grand reopening of Diagon Alley. The bar owner had noticed their increasing confidence, as well as seeing that their concerns over Matheson abate. The reasons for that became obvious as the rather attractive regal brunette confidently strode to the Death Eater's table. She had the high bearing of a landed pureblood family as well as the imperious gaze of someone of importance. Miss Parker, as she was known to her friends and colleagues, was indeed a powerful woman as the deputy head of the Unspeakables division.
"Augustus, it has been a long time" she purred at seeing the former coworker from the Ministry.
"Hello, Parker, time it seems has been very good to you, as well as your station, deputy head is it?" Augustus replied smoothly. "From what I hear, time isn't the only thing you have been good at to receive such accolades so early in your career." Rookwood's eyes held a mirthless laughter, as if sharing an inside joke.
"You would know exactly how good all of my qualifications are." The brunette witch would not be cowed nor ridiculed from her new station, and while Rookwood had initiated her in many different ways to the Unspeakables, she was no longer that new recruit. Her sexuality and fierce devotion to work had moved her quickly through the ranks, but it was exactly that position that they both worked hard for her to attain that made this meeting so important.
"How is Matheson these days?" Rookwood tried to act nonchalant, but the mission in Diagon Alley was merely days away and Miss Parker was the best situated operative they had.
"Sleeping comfortably and blissfully unaware of the situation" she replied with a seductive smile. "The earlier commotion about a leak in the department was resolved; both of your newest recruits were named and unfortunately given to the Dementors. They hadn't taken the vow yet, so no one suspects anything." She wrinkled her nose in distaste at the loss of the pure blood offered to those unholy spectres.
"An unfortunate casualty, but unavoidable. Keep Matheson occupied, as I know you can" Augustus said with a knowing smirk. "We'll be in touch", Rookwood couldn't help himself as he trailed his fingertips across her collarbone as he left the table and glided past her.
Miss Parker shivered slightly but kept her focus on the table and the five galleons left behind. Rookwood would expect her to turn and show weakness, but she was a different woman than he remembered. She doctored the induction ceremony with his help to circumvent the Unspeakables' Vow and was free to be a rogue agent within the Department of Mysteries. She wasn't bound to him and his silly Death Eater ideals anymore. When with the Unspeakables, she had discovered a more important cause to maintain her pureblood status and standing, and it was that and only that, which bound her to Rookwood and his followers.
She was one of the Ancient and Sacred Twenty-Eight and accepted the responsibility to maintain the powers her ancestors had killed for. When she finally stood and strode from the Burning Lady, she grinned maliciously at how weak Rookwood still thought she was. He has no idea who he is fucking with. It was a sentiment that she found herself realizing again and again, but the resulting corpses would never have a chance to warn the others.
The cause for her concern was just waking on the other side of the world, cloaked in darkness, readying himself for the increased rigors of his predawn workouts. The past week or so under the new regimen had sharpened his senses considerably; most notably with his sense of magic. He now could detect faint traces of the Fade and wand bound magic. Puzzlingly, Harry felt and saw silvery strands surrounding Kenji but not his father; he filed it away to question later. To dwell on that during sparring was asking for a swift concussion or near loss of limb.
Since Harry earned his hard edge from Kenji in dueling, the battles increased in ferocity with him barely able to keep up. Kenji's attacks came faster and harsher now that he was striking with all his might. Harry knew either a fist or, Merlin forbid, a kick would end his training for the day so most of that week was spent defending and dodging. Slowly but surely, Harry was landing glancing blows and finally eight full days after catching Kenji by surprise, he clipped the sohei with a sharp elbow before succumbing to a straight side kick pulverizing two of his ribs. His triumphant roar coincided with his cry of pain as he blacked out.
Humanely, Hideki's training while equally exhausting was not nearly as punishing. Harry's focus on his magic within allowed those first simple wandless sparks to evolve into small balls of flame or frost. Hideki was still adamant in only using wandless magic, which confused Harry because of his shown inability to control the Fade in significant amounts. He was able to see the Fade more often in himself and elsewhere; it was everywhere and seeing it was disorienting, as if his brain couldn't process both the real world and the raw magic that permeated it at the same time. His healer assured him that the integration process would happen quickly and it would be seamless.
As he awoke with a large groan; a thick wrap around his ribs laying on his familiar injury futon, he grinned at his sempai at the door, "I tagged you pretty good".
Kenji snorted, "So says the man with kindling for ribs". He did give Harry the satisfaction of turning his head to the right to show his swollen black and purple shiner under his eye. "You have managed very well, kohai, not many could do this to a true sohei attacking in earnest, especially in only a few weeks' time."
His healer heard the verbal sparring and smiled to himself; this was going much better than he thought possible. In time, they could become like true brothers. Hideki's head appeared at the doorway, "Well technically, he has been unconsciously supplementing his training with small amounts of raw magic. I suppose it's only fair …" He clapped his son hard on the shoulder with a nod towards Harry. Kenji seemed to think about the gesture for a moment and then nodded. He slowly untucked his compression shirt and revealed a savage looking bite mark over his heart. "The mark of a true sohei, a true warrior of the Arcane. The emperor may have taken our magic, but he could never take away our bond with the Fade."
"You are of the moon? Voluntarily?" Harry asked almost rhetorically. It certainly would explain a lot about his speed and power as well as the fair amount of raw magic swirling around him. Kenji nodded and answered Harry's next question, "We are not infectious; over generations we've maximized the benefits and minimized the obvious dangers, though not without a lot of suffering." Kenji's eyes flinched slightly when remembering the tales of those earliest attempts at voluntary lycanthropy.
Harry closed his eyes to try and absorb all of this new information. All of the coincidences became less random and more chosen, his relationship to the Fade, his introduction to a group who promoted this bond and meeting the healer that made it all possible. His eyes opened suspiciously to look at his healer and his son.
Hideki could have garnered more favor with the Peverell scion by explaining exactly what happened that day they were at Grimmauld Place, but given what had to be done now, Harry needed all of his focus on survival and in placing the correct structure to facilitate his and the Legion's return. If not that, then perhaps this…
Hideki headed off the oncoming storm by telling Harry one of the things he wanted to hear. "When you heal fully we will discuss your father and the Legion. I know your birthday is a few days away, perhaps we can take a short break ..." He gave a knowing look to his son. "A trip to Britain then; it will give us the best chance to determine how the Ministry is tracking you. And besides, I would hate for you to miss your birthday." He finished with a smirk.
Ginny sat on her bed at the Burrow, Ron and Hermione were staying in his room, with the door wide open of course. Molly might have liked the pairing, but she was still pretty overbearing when it came to the rules of her house, and not for the first time, Ginny seriously considered moving to Grimmauld Place and taking up Kreacher's offer. She recalled the conversation with Hermione earlier and even surprised herself with how well she took her confession. Harry's healer had given her an important gift when it came to the raven haired teen.
Harry loves me, it was a simple statement but perhaps one of the most powerful she knew. It allowed no wiggle room, it just was. It gave purpose, resolve, comfort, she would hold on to that truth and draw strength from it. She absently held onto the snitch and was slightly ashamed at the abuse she heaped on it when first receiving it. She stared at it, trying to will her feelings to it and extract Harry's from within. She sighed and rolled it absent-mindedly in her palm as she habitually did when thinking about him. Something rough marred the usually smooth surface and puzzled, she looked closer at the golden sphere. She felt a seam in the snitch and examined it closer.
She popped open the seam and saw inside there was a small phial. Puzzled, she gingerly pulled the phial out and almost dropped it as it grew to the length of her hand, inside a silvery liquid rested quietly. Wary of dark magic, she peered at the liquid ready to call Bill or any of the other Order members. She knew this was from Harry, but she wanted some reassurance. She found it when she turned the phial over and saw a small golden script etched into the bottle.
Inscribed were four phrases.
My patronus is a stag.
You took Neville to the Yule ball.
Your lips taste of sweet strawberries.
And an ominous one; this is only a memory.
Suddenly, Harry's gift to George fell into place, and she quietly slid downstairs to the Pensieve to view Harry's memory. She considered asking Hermione and Ron to accompany her, but this was her gift from him, and as such she would first see it alone. Dipping her face into the swirling silver amidst the clear water, she was understandably puzzled.
It was King's Cross Station and there was an odd sterile white platform that looked remarkably like 9 3/4. It was completed by a strange stark white train much like the Hogwarts' express. Everything was silent, but for a strangled whimpering that echoed in the stillness. Ginny couldn't determine where the sound was coming from, but shortly another sound emerged. It certainly sounded like Harry and Dumbledore, but that was impossible given that the Headmaster had died over a year ago. Unless … and when Dumbledore and Harry began discussing death and moving on, Ginny understood the magnitude of the scene in front of her.
Harry died. It was true, Voldemort had killed him and this is where he went. Her wizard's demeanor looked so beaten and tired that it hurt to look at him and he glanced with such longing at the train that Ginny knew that boarding it was his desire. She looked again at the train and saw that his parents, James and Lily, were onboard as well as the other Marauders. Fred and Nymphadora gave happy waves further back in the train car and Ginny saw Harry's face light up with happiness. Here in this place, Harry could have the family he always craved and deserved; he could be whole again. She saw the guilt spasm over his face as he struggled but finally, mechanically, started slowly walking to the train.
"Stop! Come back, we need you!" Ginny hoarse cries echoed in the station. "I need you." The last admission came out as a quiet whisper into the bleached scenery. She flushed deep red when she remembered that this was a memory, no cajoling or convincing would change the outcome; Harry had come back, hadn't he? Her heart raced when she considered the possibility that whatever Harry was, wasn't him at all. She mentally forced that scenario out of her mind; what she felt from him was real, which meant her Harry was real. What changed his mind?
The train doors opened and a white cloaked usher appeared and beckoned Harry forwards. It was so eerie and still, the moments hung in the air. Ginny started to panic again as Harry neared the train, the scary realization that maybe Harry didn't come back at all roared in her mind ... Why was this something he had wanted her to see? She started pleading again with Harry to stay, to come back. Memory be damned, she would make him listen, but she saw his face and it looked hard with resolve to reunite with the family he should have had; the family love that all but Neville and Susan Bones had always taken for granted.
Harry stood before the figure in white at the entrance way to the train car, and took the small hand that was offered. Instead of pulling him on to the train, the figure slowly brought Harry's hand to the hood of the white cloak and helped him gently pull. It revealed a beautiful feminine face with alabaster skin and crimson hair...
"Ginny", Harry whispered and her name seemed to hang in the air for an eternity. He stared at the angelic figure like he would never see her or anything so beautiful again; desperately memorizing every line, freckle, and soft curve. His stare was so intense and desperate it made Ginny blush as she watched them. When he gently cradled her face in his hand, Ginny felt weak in her knees but couldn't turn away. His face slick with tears, he looked past the white cloaked figure to the train car and his face fell.
"I'm sorr..."
"Harry", said James in a fatherly and slightly admonishing tone, "We will always love you and we understand. It is just not our time, it is your time." He finished with a pointed look to his son and the white clothed Ginny.
As Harry's gaze wandered to his mother, doubt crept in his eyes. Lily looked back at her son who had been through so much and even Ginny could see the motherly pride wash over her. She mouthed the words save her as she gave James a knowing glance.
Harry returned his gaze back to his Ginny, drinking in all of her features once more and with his face hardening with resolve, declared in a steely voice "I will return" without turning his head in acknowledgement.
"Agreed" said a grandfatherly voice behind Ginny. She jumped a little at the voice and turned slowly and met the crescent moon glasses of one Albus Dumbledore. His eyes twinkled, "Love, it is always enough" he murmured.
Ginny inhaled sharply and steadied herself against the pensieve. Harry would have left, given in to see his parents, but returned ... because of her. Then why wouldn't he fight for her? Hermione's words at Grimmauld Place battered her mind, "You got Dean". Hermione was there with Harry that night and all those nights before, felt his devastation, his need to be wanted and tried to heal his broken spirit, but even she didn't know the depth of his loss or sacrifice. No one could.
Harry went into exile thinking I didn't love him and I was his sole reason for returning. His awful words at Fred's funeral crystallized in her mind; he returned from the afterlife hoping to find a happy ending, and it went wrong, all wrong. Ginny went back to her room after collecting the memory and sat heavily on her bed. How can you make it right with someone who is in hiding and may never see again?
Ginny sighed heavily at the impossible question; she wouldn't solve it tonight or in the near future. She had to get some sleep. They had a big day tomorrow, it was the grand reopening of Diagon Alley and she was going to take Teddy to see the parade. He is going to love it, she thought with a small smile as sleep came quickly.