I'm going to get this done before Saturday! No, really, I actually am! There's only one more chapter! Only a few more loose ends to tie up!

: D Aren't you all thrilled?!

Your enthusiasm is overwhelming. I thank you. ;)

DISCLAIMER: I hereby renounce all claim on the Harry Potter franchise! I'll admit it; for a time I thought about claiming the world as my own, being free to do with it as I wished. But I have since decided that that is merely folly, and my time would be better spent simply doing with it as I wish anyway, without having to worry about doing anything other than stating: IT'S NOT MINE.


Promises Kept

Chapter 12 - The Choices We Must Make

He hurt. For a long few minutes, that was all he was aware of. Hurting. He was paralyzed with the pain, consumed by it, unable to even cry out. Slowly, ever so slowly, feeling crept back into his body, inch by inch, from the feet up. He waited, as with agonizing slowness, he was able to wiggle his toes, shift his feet, bend his ankles, though not well. At first he thought that was due only to the screaming protests of his stiff and sore muscles, but as his brain began working better along with his body, he realized he was in a bed of some sort, and his legs were restricted by blankets.

He was becoming aware more quickly now, his mind working rapidly to piece together what had happened. There had been a battle, he thought . . . he'd been fighting . . . someone . . . he'd nearly died, but he'd been rescued . . . or . . . had he died? And what was in his hands?

That became the new puzzle to focus on. Something important was niggling at the back of his mind, but he couldn't quite bring himself out of the fog enough to remember what it was. He shifted his fingers as best he could, trying to fix a name to the object he held. No . . . make that names, for there were two objects in his hands, and another something lying on top of them. One was a tight cylinder . . . it had a give to it and felt crinkly, papery . . .

Parchment. The word swam into his mind. Yes, parchment. A roll of parchment. And the thing on top of his hands was also parchment, though it was a sheet and not a roll. But the other . . . the other puzzled him. It was small, round, and cool. Ridged, too, he could feel some design under his fingertips. And there was a hole in the middle that he could fit his finger through.

Ring. As if opening a gateway meant to hold waters back, that word brought a rush of others.

Mum. Death. Voldemort. Battle. Love. Challenge.

Ginny.

Harry's eyes flew open, the whole of what had happened flooding suddenly back to him. Ignoring the pain in his living-again limbs, he looked around him as best he could – someone had removed his glasses, so most of the room was an indistinguishable blur, but he saw enough to recognize that he was in a hospital room.

As quietly as he could, he reached out, groping for some sort of bedside table where his glasses might reside. Finding them, he put them on and the room sprang into sharp focus. He brought the ring up to examine it, the ring he'd given Ginny. The ring that had saved him. Looking past it, he saw with a start, Ginny herself, sitting in a chair, back to him.

With a pang, he realized she was crying. There were no real signs of it, but somehow, he just knew.

"I believe this belongs to you." He spoke quietly, not yet trusting himself to speak any louder. He watched her stiffen, heard her gasp. Slowly, hesitantly, as if she didn't dare believe it, she stood and turned.

Her face was streaked with tears, her wet brown eyes locking with his. He held out the ring in his open palm, but she didn't so much as glance at it.

"You were going to leave me," she whispered, her voice ragged and accusing. He noted that the terror hadn't quite left.

"Not because I wanted to," he whispered.

"You were going to leave me!" she repeated, and now her voice was harsh, with something like anger in it. Harry knew that she would never forgive him if he lied to her know, and so, he simply said, "Yes." And then he went on, adding, "But you were the one, Ginny, who told me to do whatever I had to do to defeat him. Even if it meant hurting you."

She gave a strangled sort of sob then, and choked out, "Yes, but I didn't mean it!"

And then she was in his arms, and he had let go of both the ring and the parchment roll to hold her close as she sobbed out all her fear and anger.

It was such a relief to be able to hold her, to know that she was safe and that they could finally be together. He knew, in that moment, that he'd made the right choice, and he would be forever grateful to those five for making him. How could he have ever thought to leave this? To leave her?

"I read that note and then I saw you, here, and I –" she choked out through her sobs, her voice muffled by his shirt. "I was so scared," she whispered, and she looked up at him then, and what he saw in those eyes nearly broke his heart.

They were the eyes of an eleven-year-old who'd had her innocence ripped from her and had never quite recovered from it. They were the eyes of someone who had spent years trying to convince everyone, including herself, that she was all right. They were the eyes of someone who had learned at far too young an age what real bravery meant. They were the eyes of someone who'd been broken and mended by inexpert hands, somehow managing, despite it all, to go on. And Harry remembered what his mother had told him.

She needs someone who understands what it is like to be as broken inside as she is.

"Do you know what would have happened to me if you'd died?" she whispered, her voice thick with raw emotion.

"Yes," Harry said, and then, ignoring muscles that screamed in protest, he leaned forward and kissed her. She clung to him. "Thank you, Ginny," he whispered against her lips.

"For what?" she asked.

"For giving me a reason to come back," he said. "And a means to do so."

"Where were you?" she asked, recovering more with every moment. "The Healer said your spirit was gone, tied to earth somehow, but not to your body?" Harry nodded and told her the whole story.

She listened raptly, taking it all in and never for a moment questioning what he was telling her. When he had finished speaking, silence hung between them for a long moment. Harry held his breath, waiting to see her reaction.

"So . . . you tied yourself to the ring . . . and to me . . . and that's why you could come back?" she asked. Harry nodded.

"That was how I could, but it was you, Ginny, and the things you said when you brought the ring, that made me come back. Without hearing that, I would have stayed there. You saved my life, Ginny."

She smiled at him, really smiled, and said, "We're even then, aren't we?" And he laughed and pulled her to him, kissing her forehead. With his other hand, he fished the ring out of the bedclothes.

"I've given this to you once before, with a promise," he said, removing the arm that was resting across her shoulders so he could take and open her hand and drop the ring into it. "And now I'm giving it to you again, with a new promise." He looked her straight in the eye as he closed her fingers around the ring. "I love you, and nothing's going to change that. I came back for a reason, and there's nothing that's going to change my mind about what I want from you and for us." He paused, to make sure she understood what he meant. He recognized the hard, blazing look in her eyes, and knew that she did. "But I'm not going to ask now, today, because we're both too young and there are things that should happen first. But someday. That's the promise, Ginny. Someday."

"Someday," she repeated, and slipped the ring onto her finger. "And I'll hold you to that." Then, leaning close to him, she whispered, "I expect promises made to me to be kept." He smiled and kissed her, long and deep.

Then he rested his forehead against hers and said, eyes closed, "Ginny, there's something else you need to know."


How long Remus sat in that hall with Molly, he didn't know. He only knew that when the door opened minutes or hours later, he stood immediately. A red-faced Ginny slipped out, tear tracks clear on her face. Remus' heart jumped into his throat.

"Ginny . . ." he said, swallowing a lump in his throat. "Is he – what's wrong?"

She shook his head. "Percy," she whispered, and Remus was momentarily relieved. She was crying over Percy, not Harry. But wait – how did she know?

"How –" She smiled through the tears.

"Harry told me," she said softly. "He's awake, and he's asking for you, Remus." Relief flooding through him at her words, he moved past her silently and slipped into the room. Molly held out an arm to her youngest child, and Ginny went to her, and mother and daughter cried quietly together.

On the other side of the door, Harry told Remus in a quiet but even voice all that had happened both during the battle and after it. Remus said without interrupting, but he was frowning by the end.

"If I didn't know you . . ." he said. "I'd think you were making all this up. But I know you aren't." He looked away, taking the whole story in. "He's gone then? For sure?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. Voldemort won't be coming back. That's for sure. His Horcruxes were what kept him alive last time; they've all been destroyed now. He's really gone."

Remus let that sink in. A world without Voldemort. How long had he been fighting for that, and now . . . now, it was really true. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, feeling almost free for the first time in his life. It was a heady feeling.

He opened his eyes to see Harry grinning at him. "I imagine there'll be a lot of that going around in the next few days," he commented, and Remus laughed.

Just then, the door opened and Healer Bromton stepped in. "Miss Weasley said – I – you're awake! You're alive!" he said, sounding completely shocked. Harry smiled at the Healer.

"I am," he said. "Thanks almost entirely to Miss Weasley. I imagine you'll still want to look everything over to make sure nothing's lingering, which I'd appreciate immensely." He smiled at the bewildered Healer, who decided not to ask questions and just let his training take over. "Someone should let Ron and Hermione know," Harry called to Remus as he started to leave. "And I need to address the wizarding world as soon as possible." Remus nodded and headed out the door.

There was still work to be done.


When Harry Potter appeared at the Minister of Magic's speaking platform to address the wizarding world, he found a crowd gathered in the arena below. News of his coming had spread to all the Ministry employees, and they, it seemed, wanted to hear what he had to say.

Harry stood back, viewing the crowd with growing amusement. His "entourage" stood with him. It had taken the four of them a good ten minutes to decide the best way to present the "hero" for his address. Ron wanted him to walk out on his own to show that he was strong, but Hermione said they didn't want to downplay the seriousness of the injuries Harry had sustained. She said he should walk out with help. Ginny had insisted that Ron and Hermione also be present, for the three of them had worked as a team and it was important that the wizarding world see the connections Harry had needed, but Remus had stressed that Ginny needed to be present as well.

Harry had listened to the four of them discussing this for a while, and then he'd broken in with a laugh. "While you're planning my press conference, keep in mind I do need to be there for it in a timely fashion," he had scolded gently. "I'll walk out with support because I don't quite trust myself to make it to the lectern on my own, but once I'm there, I need to stand unsupported, but all four of you need to be with me. This was a team victory, and it's important everyone know that."

So the five of them waited now, waited for the Wireless team to get set up and ready, waited for the current of noise from below to subside.

When the moment was right, Harry gave a nod to Remus and Ginny, who were to escort him. With one on each side, supporting him, he limped slowly and with quiet dignity to the lectern. The hall grew silent as he came forward and, with another nod, Remus and Ginny released him and stepped back. He stood for a moment, gazing at the crowd below him, ringed by four of the people who meant the most to him, as cameras clicked and everyone waited.

"The victory has been won," he said simply, and he heard his words echo in the vaulted ceiling. "Lord Voldemort has been defeated. And this time, he isn't coming back. He can't. The victory has been won. Celebrate and be glad, but as you do so, do not forget that this victory has come at a terrible cost.

"Thirty-one are dead today. Thirty-one people died in this battle alone. Yes, I have added the Death Eaters to the count, along with the forces from the Ministry and the Order of the Phoenix, because human life was lost, and all human life is equal, a fact we have lost sight of in recent times."

He paused, looking down at all those faces, hearing only the click of cameras. They waited. "Fourteen perished fighting for our cause. When I am done here, a Ministry official will read their names. Remember, please, that for each name, there is a family who cannot celebrate this night. Remember that for each name there are friends and loves for whom this victory is, at best, bittersweet.

"Yes, we have won," Harry said. "For now, for this time, the darkness has been beaten back. But, my friends, we must be vigilant. I urge you to remember that Voldemort was not always a creature of darkness. Before he was Lord Voldemort, he was a young man named Tom Riddle, and Tom Riddle was not born hating. He was not born wanting to destroy. He grew to be that way because of situation and circumstance. The world made Lord Voldemort. We made Lord Voldemort.

"I cannot tell you how to live your lives. I do not have that authority. No one does. All I can tell you is what I have seen, through this fight, through the price I have paid, to be true. If you continue as you have, if you punish those whose families have produced dark supporters, if you cast away those who are different, alienate them, you are only allowing another Voldemort to form. If you let fear and hatred drive your lives and your dealings with others, the darkness will come again. And our children will know no better world than we have known.

"It is up to you. All I can tell you the decision I have made. All I can tell you is this truth: the only reason I am standing here now, addressing you, alive and mostly well, is because I learned to let go of the anger and hatred I felt for those who hurt me. It is a hard task. But it is essential. All I can give you is the knowledge that it was forgiveness that saved my life, forgiveness and love that allowed me to defeat him.

"The decision is yours, and yours alone. You can go on as you have. You can cast out those who hurt you. You can retaliate and teach your children the same sort of prejudices that you have grown up with. You can do what is easy. Or you can fight it, still. You can teach your children something better, so that they can grow up having something better. Together, we can form a world where no Voldemort can exist. We can unite, we can forgive those who have hurt us, and we can create a world where everyone is equal and no one is left to a life that is lonely and painful. The choice is yours. I can only show you the choice I have made."

Harry took a deep breath, feeling his knees shaking. He felt that his words were not merely his own, that some other, powerful force was guiding his speech, his thoughts, helping him to shape them.

"This victory has come at a cost. Time alone will tell how great it has been. Time alone will tell whether this victory is part of a greater success. Time alone will show whether we have made the right choices. Remember those who have fallen. Remember those who have made the sacrifice for your safety. And remember what you have been shown."

He turned then, and walked slowly off the platform, Remus and Ginny supporting him once more. He left a hall full of wizards and witches and a world full of more, listening, thinking, deciding. Those who had seen him speak would comment that they witnessed something otherworldly that day. They would say that the young hero spoke with a dignity and a wisdom beyond his years.

"I want to help with the clean-up," Harry said as he was helped along an empty Ministry corridor.

"No," said four voices at once.

"You're not fit to oversee anything," Hermione said briskly. "You nearly collapsed making that speech, and you know it."

"But I –"

"Let someone else be responsible for it for once," Ron said, smiling at his best friend. "You've done enough, mate. You've done enough."

"Take him back to the hospital, Ginny," Remus said. And Harry, knowing when he was facing defeat, wisely did not argue any more.

"That was very well done, by the way, Harry," Hermione said as they approached an Apparition Point.

"What was?" he asked.

"Your speech. The way you made it sound like you were giving them a choice, when really, you weren't at all."

"Yeah," Harry said, glancing at Remus. "I learned that technique from the best," he commented wryly. Remus looked away.

"I have no idea what you mean," he told him. Harry grinned tiredly.

"Oh, before we go, I have a message for you, Remus," he said, just now remembering.

"From who?" Remus said, puzzled.

"Sirius," Harry said quietly, and though he could feel three pairs of curious eyes on him, he did not take his gaze from Remus. "He says, and there's no way I'm going to do this delivery justice, but he says to tell you to get up off your ass and start moving. That you don't have the war to hide behind anymore, and she's not going to wait around forever."

The four young people all looked at Remus knowingly, hiding smiles as the older man turned a telling shade of red.

"Ahem," Remus said, clearing his throat and trying to remain dignified. "If you will all excuse me." And with a nod to them, he Disapparated. The four friends all burst out laughing.

"Now, then," Harry said. "If you three are sending me back to Mungo's, you're all coming, too. No, no excuses!" he said loudly, to be heard over Ron and Hermione's protests. "You both also need to let others take care of the responsibilities for once. You're right; the three of us have done enough. We have things we need to discuss, and you," he looked at Ginny and Ron," need to be with your family." Satisfied with nods from each of them, Harry and the others Apparated back to the hospital, where he consented to rest only if it was in George's room with the rest of the Weasleys.

"Harry," Ron said as they were helping him down one of the corridors, "there's something you need to know." He exchanged a long glance with Hermione. "About Hermione and me." Ginny snorted.

Harry fixed his two best friends with an amused look. "Ron. Hermione. Do you honestly think I don't already know?" At their shocked expressions, he said, "You two have been more obvious than anyone else I know for more years than I can count." He surveyed them over the tops of his glasses. "It's about time you two did something about it." They both blushed and avoided his gaze, but Ginny grinned at him.

Once settled in the antechamber to George's room, Harry allowed himself to be fussed over by a Mrs. Weasley whose eyes were red-rimmed and glistening. She had insisted Harry lie down as much as he could on a sofa while she tucked a blanket around him. He allowed this, holding Ginny's hand as he embarrassedly accepted the entire Weasley family's praise of his speech, which they had heard on the Wireless.

"How's George?" he asked quietly. Mrs. Weasley tried to smile at him as she resumed her seat by her husband.

"He'll live," she said. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Fred look away, pain etched on his face. "But they – they don't think he'll ever walk again," she whispered. Harry shut his eyes. This victory had come at a cost.

A knock on the door interrupted them. A pale blonde wizard not much older than Harry poked his head shyly into the room. He clutched a roll of parchment in his hands. "Mrs. Weasley? Mr. Weasley?" he asked. "They told me I could find you here?"

"Yes, I am Arthur Weasley," Mr. Weasley spoke up. "Come in. What do you need?"

"My name is Will Greer," the young man said, coming all the way into the room and removing his hat courteously. "I was sent – by the Minister. I'm a – a clerk. In his department. I – I shared an office with – with your son. With Percy." Mrs. Weasley closed her eyes against fresh tears. Will faltered, not knowing if he should go on.

"You knew Percy?" Mr. Weasley asked quietly. Will nodded.

"As well as anyone, sir," he said quietly. "We were partners for a year and a half. I – I only just found out he had – They read his name. On the Wireless. And the Minister came back with this," he said, holding up the parchment. "Percy wrote it before he left, and the Minister wanted you to see it. I – he joined the battle because he was worried about all of you," Will said very softly. "He said he couldn't live with himself if he was the brother who stayed behind again. I – I've never heard anyone talk about his family the way Percy talked about you."

Harry squeezed Ginny's hand as tears flowed down her cheeks. He saw Hermione do the same for Ron. Mr. Weasley nodded, tears in his own eyes. "Read it to us, then, son," he said quietly, nodding to the note in Will's hand.

With a swallow and a nod, Will unfolded the parchment and began to read.

"'To Minister Scrimgeour. Dear sir. Though I have the highest respect for you, both as a man and as the Minister of Magic, I regret to inform you that I cannot do as you have ordered me. Once before in my life, I was asked to choose between the Ministry and my family. I made the wrong choice then; I won't do it again. I have to make sure they are safe, and I have to fight beside them for what I know is right. If there is still a place for me at the Ministry when all this is over, I will return to your office gladly. If not, then I thank you for all the opportunities you have given me and you have taught me, most recently, what truly is most important in my life. Yours, Percy Weasley.'"

The silence after Will had finished was deafening. After a long moment, Mr. Weasley spoke.

"Well then," he said, tears in his eyes. "Perhaps you would like to stay with us, Will, and help us remember him?" Will looked surprised at the invitation; indeed, he wasn't the only one. Many heads in the room turned to him, but he met the stares evenly, saying, "We need to forgive him, all of us. The forgiving should not be hard, not now," he nodded to Harry, "but we must do it before we can grieve. And we must grieve before we can truly move on. Will you stay with us, Will?"

Will nodded, taking a seat in the circle. As Harry listened to the stories and shared in the tellings, he realized that the Weasleys had done what they had always been so good at doing. They had invited another into their midst and made him family. And, Harry mused, with families like the Weasleys, he thought the wizarding world stood a good chance of doing as he had asked.


Stick with me for one more chapter! That's it! Oh, and review!