The Seven-Pointed Circle

by flee the light

Non-canon post-Hogwarts trilogy with Hermione as the protagonist. Hermione has never got over how Harry went into the forest to face his death without her. Several years on from that night, a shadowy figure with a mysterious power draws the two of them into a twisted and subversive game she intends to play with the wizarding world. [Harry/Hermione] (eventually)

18. The last of Harry Potter - Chapter 18

18. The name of Harry Potter

They emerged from their building, their wands stowed in their pockets, and started to walk in the direction of the cemetery.

'I still don't even know my real name,' he said as they passed by the cemetery's ivy-covered walls.

'Can I still call you James for now?' Ilaria asked.

'I suppose so,' he replied. 'It does still seem like my name.'

They turned off the main road onto a narrow street that seemed to pass through the cemetery itself, bounded on either side by its tall stone walls. They stopped in front of a broad locked gate in the wall. The last tourists had gone and the gates were locked. Ilaria glanced around her, took out her wand and muttered an enchantment. The gate swung open and they went inside.

'What did you say to open the gate?' he asked.

'Alohomora.'

'I think I've heard it before.'

They made their way along a broad avenue, lined with stone vaults on either side. Countless signposts pointed the way to the graves of the famous. Off the main avenue were numerous narrower avenues, all lined with grave after grave, mausoleum after mausoleum. They turned to the left at random onto one of the side avenues, passing into a more secluded sector of the cemetery. They followed the narrow avenue until they came to a turning that passed between two tall stone mausoleums, in turn leading them into a small open space hemmed in on all sides by graves. He looked up. The night sky was clouded over and lit by the glare of the streetlights. He felt Ilaria touch him on the arm. He turned to her.

'Ready?' she asked gently.

'Ready,' he replied, taking out his wand.

'Now', she began, 'try emptying your mind. Then cast a spell. Maybe something will come to you spontaneously.'

'Ok,' he replied.

He shut his eyes and emptied his mind as best he could. He felt the cool night air on the back of his hand as he held his wand out. At first nothing happened. He persevered until he felt the cool enveloping darkness begin to crack. He refocused and waited. Finally an incantation leapt into his mouth:

'Expelliarmus!'

The charm flew from his wand and shot past Ilaria's ear, blasting the corner off a marble tombstone.

---

Caius strode along the dark street, swerving erratically around people walking in the other direction and muttering under his breath.

'It's ridiculous! He chokes his girlfriend, erases his memory like a total coward and disappears into the night, and now he has two girls fighting over him, one trying to be the love of his life, and the other his best friend!'

He walked up to the building on Rue Froidevaux and pressed hard on the buzzer. There was no reply. Suddenly he heard a familiar voice behind him.

'What are you doing in Paris?'

He looked round and saw Henoc Lutumba a little way down the street, walking towards him.

'I've come to see Harry Potter,' he replied calmly.

Within a few moments Henoc was at the front door, a nervous look on his face.

'You know what's going on then,' said Henoc. 'You know who James Black is.'

'Harry Black, Sirius Potter, whatever name he goes by,' Caius replied.

'Are you feeling alright?'

'No, not really. How long have you known, by the way?'

He accompanied his question with a withering stare at Henoc.

'A few months,' came the reply.

'Well thanks for letting me know, man.'

'I know, I know. I promised Ilaria I wouldn't say anything.'

'Now I see why she's been so low-key this past year. I thought she just couldn't be bothered to meet up anymore.'

'You're taking it badly,' said Henoc. 'Why don't you come inside? Or maybe go and get a drink. You need to chill out a bit.'

Caius shook his head vigorously.

'No, definitely not. This has to be sorted out now. Before Hermione gets to him first and tries to 'save' him again.'

'Hermione Granger? She's here?'

'Oh she's here all right, just down the street at the Pelletier! We came all the way to Paris together to find the Golden Boy himself!'

He turned swiftly and pressed down hard on the buzzer again.

'Hey, careful with that,' said Henoc, reaching for his arm. 'They're not there.'

'Why would I believe you?'

'Well, look at this then!' Henoc pulled a post-it note off the buzzer. Gone for a walk in the cemetery, he read. 'Satisfied now?'

'Well, I'm afraid I'm going to have to interrupt their romantic walk among the graves,' remarked Caius, already starting to walk away.

'Wait,' said Henoc, catching him firmly by the arm again. 'What exactly are you going to do?'

Caius reflected for a few moments.

'Don't know yet.'

'Do you want me to come with you?'

'No,' said Caius. 'This is between me and him.'

'Are you sure?'

'Yes, absolutely.'

Caius pulled free of Henoc's grip.

'Why are you helping Ilaria anyway?'

Henoc shrugged, a troubled look on his face.

'I don't know, she said it was part of his treatment. His mind was very fragile, so he needed a holiday.'

Caius shook his head emphatically.

'I've had enough of all that from Hermione. Harry Potter and his fragile mind. Boo fucking hoo!'

The next moment he disapparated, leaving Henoc on the threshold, looking down an empty street.

---

Hermione walked as quickly as she could down the Avenue du Maine, her hands thrust deep in her pockets. The evening was cool and autumnal. She turned onto the Rue Froidevaux, making for the building where Harry was staying. She took the note off the buzzer, read it, and carefully stuck it back where it had been. Then she turned and walked back down the street.

One minute later, the door of the building opened again and Henoc stepped outside. He took the note off the door and stuffed it in his pocket. Then he looked down the street towards the cemetery gates and set off in the same direction, shaking his head.

---

Caius followed a crisscross path through the cemetery, his wand lighting the way. He had resumed his muttering.

'…and these people are supposed to be friends of mine… Well, I've had it with Ilaria, that's for certain, and probably Henoc as well. How long did he say he's known? A few months? What does he think he's... ?!'

Every few steps he stopped to listen, searching for the sound of charms and curses around the dull roar of traffic beyond the walls.

'… and as for Hermione and her desperate quest to find Harry Potter, so wrapped up in him that she's ready to make excuses for anything he does! Domestic violence… morally bankrupt… really, what's the difference between her and Ilaria, and all the rest, heaven knows how many there are …'

A light flashed suddenly through the graves, some thirty feet away. Caius extinguished his wand and made for the place where the light had just been. Crouching behind a family vault, he squinted through the darkness. Harry and Ilaria stood a few feet away, their wands raised. Now and then the faint words of an incantation reached him, or little bursts of lights could be seen from the ends of their wands. When through the darkness he he saw them kiss, he stepped out from his hiding place.

A bright light burst upon them, seemingly from behind one of the tombs. They started and looked around them, dazzled by the sudden light.

'It's a really magical night, don't you think?'

Caius was walking towards them, glowing wand in hand.

'Who are you?' said the wizard still going by the name of James Black.

'Ask Ilaria,' replied Caius, 'And who are you this evening, by the way?'

'Caius?' said Ilaria, her eyes staring.

'You know him?' said James, grabbing her by the arm. She gave a little nod.

'Oh we're old friends,' said Caius. 'Old school buddies.'

'Is that right?'

Caius's face gleamed white from the glow of his wand, which was trained on them.

'Look, it's nice to meet another wizard and everything,' James remarked, 'but do you mind not pointing that at us?'

Caius made no attempt to lower his wand.

'Sorry, I suppose I've interrupted your romantic little walk.'

'We were practising actually,' said James, raising his so that it was pointed back at Caius.

'Of course, you're probably a bit out of practice.'

'What do you know about it?'

Caius glanced at Ilaria and shot her an unpleasant smile

'Oh my… have I put my foot in it? Could it be that Ilaria didn't tell you that all three of us were at school together?'

'Caius, you had no right to follow us,' Ilaria began. 'When will you let this go?'

'Let what go?'

'This jealousy.'

Caius laughed.

'Jealousy? Who am I supposed to be jealous of? The two of you?'

Ilaria turned to James.

'I know this seems weird, following us all the way from London, but he's harmless, really. I think I should talk to him alone for a few minutes.'

'No thanks, Ilaria,' Caius replied. 'I'm afraid I'm not going to play along with your little game anymore.'

'Will one of you tell me what's going on here?' said James, his voice tense.

'Aren't you sick of all this amnesia business, Harry?' said Caius, coming closer to them. 'I certainly am. And I can't help thinking that Ilaria hasn't exactly done all she can to help you recover your identity.'

'Caius, don't be stupid,' said Ilaria. Then she turned to James.

'It's not like that. It's complicated.'

Without answering her, James turned back to Caius.

'You seem to know me better than I do myself,' he said finally. 'Who am I then?'

'Harry Potter,' came another voice from behind them. They turned and Hermione walked out of the darkness.

'You're wasting your time, Hermione,' shouted Caius as she walked calmly towards them. 'The softly-softly approach doesn't work. It's time for more extreme measures.'

'Will you be quiet!' replied Hermione, as she arrived alongside him. 'Harry's not Crabbe or Goyle, you can't make him see sense with your fists.'

She turned to face Harry.

'Harry,' she said, 'that is your name. You lost your memory a year ago, probably deliberately, after you did something very stupid. You walked out on your friends and loved ones. And since then,' she said, casting a withering look at Ilaria, 'she has made sure you had no way of returning to your old life.'

'That's not true!' said Ilaria, 'I would never have stopped him once he regained his memory!'

Hermione looked at her with cold irony.

'Oh yes, and you've been trying so hard to help him regain it as well.'

Ilaria showed no sign of giving in.

'You don't know anything about how he's been. You weren't there to witness the headaches, the nightmares … the seizures.'

'Ilaria,' said Harry. 'Have you known all along who I really am?'

'Of course she has!' Hermione exclaimed. 'Do you really think you can capture someone's heart by false pretences and get away with it?'

'Ilaria,' Harry repeated, 'did you know all along?'

Ilaria hung her head.

'Yes, but I had to protect you.'

'Protect me from what?' he asked in a louder voice. 'Do you know what it is I did before I lost my memory?'

Ilaria didn't answer. She scanned his face, as if she were looking for some idea of what the best thing to say was.

'God, I'm sick of all this,' shouted Caius suddenly from behind her. 'What makes you so special that all these girls are desperate for you? You drop one, then Ilaria here picks you up and tries to keep you hidden from the world so she can keep you for herself, then this one,' pointing at Hermione with his wand outstretched, 'goes chasing across Europe after you. This is all just a pathetic little melodrama after all.'

'The only one being melodramatic is you,' said Hermione, turning on him. 'But it doesn't matter. You're not in your right mind. None of us are.'

'What does that mean?' said Caius.

'Someone has been whispering in our ears,' said Hermione, looking round keenly at all of them. 'Telling us what we want to hear, telling us we have good reasons to give in to our… our desires and neuroses.'

No one looked all that convinced.

'Where did you get that one from?' asked Caius.

'Well… after we drank that Dementico I had a sort of... encounter in a vision.'

Caius burst out laughing.

'I know how it sounds,' said Hermione. 'And I presume she's busy right now making sure no one believes me. But it's true.'

'Who is?' Caius sneered. 'The Lady in the Bottle?'

'Really, Hermione,' put in Ilaria, a smirk on her face, 'I never pictured you as the sort who would drink Dementico, let alone believe the hallucinations it gives you.'

'And as for you,' Hermione exclaimed, turning on her with eyes flashing, 'you devious, manipulating, doe-eyed slut, you actually have the nerve to try and take the moral high ground? How can you even stand here after what you've done to Harry? I'd have self-combusted out of shame by now!'

'Hey!' said Harry angrily. 'What gives you the right to talk to her like that?'

'Don't worry, James,' said Ilaria softly. 'Go easy on her. It's the jealousy talking.'

'His name is Harry!' Hermione exclaimed.

'Enough of all this!' shouted Caius, suddenly raising his wand and firing off sparks into the air. 'I don't care who's jealous of who, who's going to bed with who, I don't care if we've been cursed, I don't care if we're intoxicated, and I don't care if Harry's delicate mind is in danger of being deranged even more.'

'Good for you,' replied Harry, looking at him oddly. 'What is it you do care about?'

'I want a duel,' said Caius in a quieter voice. 'No more games. A real one. Slytherin versus Gryffindor, if you know what that means.'

He gave a quick swish of his wand and suddenly he was dressed in Slytherin colours.

'Caius, don't be ridiculous!' said Hermione.

'No, it's not ridiculous,' interrupted Harry suddenly raising his wand. 'If it's what you want, I'll be happy to oblige … Stupefy!'

The curse flashed in the dark, and Caius parried it with a counter curse. Then he disapparated, reappearing about ten feet away and fired off a curse of his own. Harry swerved to his left, and the curse exploded against the side of a mausoleum, blowing the arm off a marble angel. Caius stepped over a grave and fired off another curse, but Harry was too quick to respond, and his curse caught Caius in his wand arm just as he released. Caius recoiled in pain, dropping his wand. He reached down and picked it up, the grave he was standing on spattered with his blood. But Harry's next curse was already on him, carrying him several feet through the air and dropping him on the ground behind a row of tombstones. Harry strode forward, ready to fire off his next curse. Then a red flash shot out from behind the tombstones and Harry yelled in pain, clutching at his chest. He stumbled for a moment, then regained his footing, and shouted Crucio, his wand flashing through the air. A howl of pain split the air from behind the tombstones. Harry strode forward, passing between the tombstones in an instant. Caius was sprawled across a marble grave covered with flowers, motionless except for his wand hand, which still gripped his wand.

'Not much of a challenge, are you?' shouted Harry. 'Shall I put you out of your misery?'

Caius tried to raise his head.

'You know what, I couldn't care less,' he replied, and his head sank back to the ground.

Harry stood a few feet away from him, contemplating the scene, his wand outstretched. He closed his eyes, wondering whether the veil was about to fall to one side. An act of violence had propelled him into the darkness, perhaps a second act of violence would bring him back out of it. This is who you are, after all.

He opened his eyes and Hermione was standing in front of him, shielding the prostrate form of Caius, who lay behind her, still stretched out on the grave.

'You know who I am,' he said coldly.

'I do,' she replied, her eyes fixed on his.

'You know what I did. What made me like this.'

'Yes.'

'It was something terrible, wasn't it?'

'Yes, it was. But…'

'And I ran away from it.'

'Yes, but...'

'What was her name, the girl I hurt, the red-haired girl?'

'Ginny,' said Hermione. 'Her name's Ginny.'

'And my name's Harry Potter, is that it?'

'Yes, Harry, it is.'

'Then I suppose Harry Potter is a killer. I have the right to know.'

'Harry, you're not a killer!'

He shook his head.

'I don't believe you. I can see you want to protect me. I don't know why, but thanks anyway.'

Hermione looked at him despairingly. The cemetery was silent apart from Caius's ragged breathing.

'I want my mind back!' Harry shouted into the night. 'I want my own memories, even if they're bad memories! I have to feel what I did to that girl.'

She looked at Harry with an expression of total resignation. Then she walked slowly towards his outstretched wand until it was touching her chest.

'Harry, if this is your choice, you'd better make it count. Don't make this a random killing. Kill someone who loves you. Kill your best friend,' she said, a tear rolling down her cheek. 'You'd even be doing me a favour, because if Harry Potter is a killer then I don't want to live. I told you once, you can tell me anything. You can show me anything. If I have to see this, then it better be the last thing I see.'

His wand hand slackened, and the tip of his wand ceased to dig into her chest. She reached out her hands and put them to his temples, pulling his forehead against hers. They stood there in the calm of the graveyard, until at last he turned his head slightly and whispered in her ear.

'Hermione.'

This time her name spoke a lifetime of memories.

He held her as tightly as he could, almost lifting her off the ground. She seemed to weigh nothing. He looked into her pale, care-worn face. She seemed exhausted.

'You can't imagine how many times I read that note, trying to remember who sent it to me.'

'It was wrong of me to give it to you,' she replied in a whisper.

'It probably was, but where would I be now without it?'

He shuddered and looked away for a few moments.

'Hermione, I know what I've done. All of it.'

She nodded.

'I'm disgusted at myself.'

'So you should be. But it wasn't all you, Harry. I was serious when I said that someone's being playing with us from the shadows.'

'I'm sure you're right,' he replied. 'But that won't get me off the hook. Nobody put thoughts into my head that I hadn't already had myself.'

Suddenly footsteps approached the clearing. Harry and Hermione wheeled around. Henoc Lutumba was standing in front of them, a look of alarm on his face.

'The Witchfinders are here,' he said in a low but clear voice.

'They've followed us from Britain?' asked Hermione.

'Some of them sound like they're British,' Henoc replied 'But there are plenty of French ones too. It's an international operation. Even Bouquett, the head of the French League of Witchfinders is here.'

'If someone will help me up off this tombstone,' came Caius's voice from behind them, 'I'm ready to get stuck into these witchfinders too.'

'Oh, you're on our side again now, are you?' said Hermione, turning to him with a scowl. But she and Harry pulled him to his feet. In an instant his wand was out at the ready.

'By the way, good to have you back, Harry.'

'Err… thanks,' replied Harry.

'How many did you see?' asked Hermione, turning to Henoc.

'About twenty,' replied Henoc. 'Some with wands, some without.'

'We should all disapparate now,' said Hermione.

'I don't think we can. I think they've put some sort of magical cordon around the cemetery.'

To illustrate his point, he fired a charm into the night sky. About fifteen metres up, the curse rebounded off an invisible barrier and disintegrated in a little shower of sparks.

'Hermione, what is this about?' said Harry.

'No time to explain,' said Hermione, touching him on the arm. 'We'll probably have to fight our way out of here.'

Harry nodded grimly.

'They're here!' Ilaria called out.

Wizards strode out of the darkness from all sides, wands outstretched. Among the faces, Hermione recognised Charlie Skelton and Chloe Goodwin, standing either side of Mr Morley, and Fitzroger, alongside Mr Marchelow. She raised her wand, glancing at Harry, Henoc, Caius and Ilaria. Their wands were all raised in anticipation.

Mr Morley made straight for Hermione, a rather unpleasant smile on his face.

'Have you been seeing the sights of Paris too?' asked Hermione innocently.

He looked around with mild distaste

'Witches in a graveyard at night? A bit clichéd, don't you think? Even for my tastes.'

'But I thought you liked digging for bones,' Hermione replied.

Mr Morley scowled.

'It's an unpleasant necessity.'

'Whatever it is,' said Hermione. 'Would you mind calling off your tamed wizards?

'Actually I'm not the one in charge here,' replied Mr Morley. 'Not my jurisdiction. 'You'll have to take it up with my French counterparts.' Suddenly he grabbed Hermione by the arm. 'Which, I must say, may prove rather lucky for you.'

'Take your hands off her,' said Harry coolly, his wand raised. The next moment Mr Morley's hand snapped back, forcibly detached from Hermione's arm. He stumbled for a moment then regained his composure. Charlie Skelton stepped forward but Harry had his wand trained on him in an instant.

'I know you from Hogwarts, don't I?' he said tersely.

'From the Gryffindor common room itself,' came the reply.

'And now you work for witchfinders?'

'I don't expect you to understand my motives.'

'I'm not sure I'm interested in them right now.'

Mr Morley peered superciliously at Harry, a look of recognition dawning on his face.

'Well, well, I was so busy catching up with your friend here that I didn't notice you. I don't need to ask your name, of course, though you've certainly been keeping a low profile lately. What a night this is turning into: a sort of celebrity sabbat.'

Harry glanced at Hermione.

'This is the witchfinder, I suppose.'

'Yes,' said Hermione drily. 'The witchfinder and his wizard friends.'

Harry smiled grimly.

'Bit of a funny combination, isn't it?'

'Well, if you're a witchfinder, I suppose you've got to be a bit of an oddity to begin with,' remarked Hermione.

'That's what they all think,' said Chloe Goodwin.

'What do you mean, they?' said Caius. 'As if you're not a witch yourself.'

'We're wizards alright,' said Fitzroger, 'but we're the new wizarding nation: one that will live in broad daylight, not creeping about like the rats in the Ministry tunnels.'

Harry glanced at Hermione.

'Things seem to have got a bit weird while I was away.'

'And now the Golden Boy's back to save the day again!' came Skelton's mocking reply.

'I don't know about that, but I'll certainly give you a try,' Harry exclaimed, firing off a curse. Skelton parried it, and fired one back of his own, but Harry easily extinguished it.

'Enough!' said Mr Morley, raising his hand. 'Much as I despise the use of magic, those here who can wield it,' he continued, gesturing to the wizards surrounding them, 'are authorised to use it in a good cause if you don't behave yourselves and come quietly.'

He surveyed his prisoners.

'Not very subtle, are you? I thought wizards were supposed to be more secretive. You really have made our job much easier with your antics. Releasing snakes in the centre of Paris? Duelling in one of Paris's most famous cemeteries? Pretty much the typical British tourists abroad, aren't you?'

'Mr Morley! I'll take over now!'

A sober, middle-aged man with grey hair emerged from the darkness and approached them. Morley turned and nodded curtly to the man and stepped to one side.

'Mr Bouquett.'

Mr Bouquett looked at them soberly, shaking his head. He took out a rather battered black leather-bound book and leafed through its pages until he found the one he was looking for. Then he read from the page he had opened.

'In accordance with the third alinea of Article 154-3 of the Code of Witchfinders of the French Republic prohibiting the public display of magic, in conjunction with:

the second alinea of Article 176-1 prohibiting the use of magic with the intent to cause personal injury,

Article 223-4 prohibiting the use of magic to commit acts of vandalism of the national heritage of the French Republic,

Article 278-1 prohibiting cruelty to animals involving the use of magic,

and Article 315-2 prohibiting the possession of wands in public places, you are under arrest. You shall be taken from this place and placed in detention to await trial.'

'Is this for real?' Caius asked.

'I'm afraid so,' replied Henoc.

'I don't think so,' said Hermione, raising her voice. 'The French League of Witchfinders is a private organisation, like in most countries. Only the French Ministry of Magic has the power to arrest wizards.'

Mr Bouquett looked unimpressed.

'Debrandt!' he called out. 'Ramenez la Veuve.'

'La Veuve!' gasped Henoc. 'Ca alors, les histoires sont vraies.'

A few moments later a tall, bearded man wheeled a large lacquered wooden cabinet into view. He took out his wand and cast a charm that made the doors of the cabinet start to open.

'What is this?' said Harry.

'The wizards' repentance,' replied Henoc in a hushed, fearful voice.

The doors swung open, revealing a wooden statue about five foot tall, depicting an old woman dressed in black. The statue was realistically carved, down to the wrinkles on the woman's face and her solemn facial expression.

'This is bad,' said Henoc.

A yellowish glow seemed to envelop the statue and the old woman's eyes opened. The next moment an ear-splitting scream began to emanate from the statue. Within seconds, Harry, Hermione, Henoc, Caius and Ilaria were all stretched out unconscious on the ground.