Author's Note: FF.N seems to be deleting reviews again; 32 reviews are listed, but only 28 are actually posted. As I express my gratitude to Occamy, galtxtr,
Amerz and Sassy for their comments on Chapter 5 (the latter review DID
at least show up in my e-mail), I also extend a blanket Thank You for
those missing reviews consigned to oblivion. Of course, I will have no
forum to thank those who deign to comment on this final chapter. I can
only hope that everyone who stuck until the end found the journey
worthwhile.
And now, what are we waiting for? Last time, Ron found the Sign he was looking for. But does it mean what he THINKS it does?
What do YOU think? ^_^
***
Ron finally released his suppressed grin in the confines of the Gryffindor common room. He was all but dancing as he paced the area between the fireplace and the four overstuffed chairs ringing the hearth, and Ginny, who was sitting in one of those chairs, thought her brother might burst into song.
"This is it!" Ron exuberated, looking at his wand as if he wanted to kiss it. "The sign I was looking for! Brother wands!"
Completely lost for words, Ginny could only look on as Ron tossed his wand in the air and caught it, laughing like a house-elf drunk on butterbeer.
"Brother wands can never be used against each other," Ron announced giddily. "They can only work together! It's bloody marvelous! Everyone says Hermione and I could never be a couple because we fight all the time. But that's just -- I dunno -- surface tension or something. Deep down in our cores, Hermione and I are soul mates! Just like our wands!
"And to think I owe it all to Gilderoy Lockhart! If that smarmy git hadn't used my old wand to try to put a Memory Charm on Harry and me, it wouldn't have blown up, and Mum and Dad wouldn't have bought me this one!"
And, as Ginny looked on in shocked disbelief, Ron did kiss his wand. Shaking her head to clear that nauseating vision from her mind, she found her voice at last and said, "Mum and Dad would have got you a new wand anyway. I heard them say so loads of times. They just wanted to teach you a lesson after you and Harry pinched Dad's car. They knew you couldn't have used that wand indefinitely, even if it hadn't snapped. It was really Charlie's, after all. They knew you could never realize your full potential using a hand-me-down wand."
"See?" Ron beamed. To Ginny's near-horror, he was now caressing his wand the way a mother cat might have cuddled a favorite kitten. "It was destiny! Hermione got her wand five years ago, but the other one just sat in Ollivander's for ages. That's 'cause it was waiting for me! The wand chooses the wizard, you know."
Ginny did not know how to respond. She was thoroughly convinced that Harry and Hermione belonged together. Even during the three-plus years when she fancied Harry herself, she knew deep down that hers was a lost cause. It was always Hermione. Painful though it was to admit, it was something she had never doubted.
But what was she to think now? Ron's argument did make sense. There must be another answer, she thought - but if there was, it was one too deep for her to fathom.
"Say, where's Harry?" Ron said suddenly, looking like he was bursting to tell his best friend the news. "He must be back from Hogsmeade by now."
"He's upstairs," Ginny said, nodding toward the staircase leading to the boys' dorms.
"HARRY!" Ron shouted as Ginny grimaced, glad that the balmy evening had left the common room empty of students. "COME ON DOWN!"
A muffled thumping on the stairs was followed in short order by Harry, who wore a smile which, if not so wide as Ron's, was just as bright. Ginny had a strange feeling that Harry was just as eager as Ron to impart some news of his own.
"Been waiting for you and Hermione," Harry said eagerly. "Dumbledore said you'd gone off on a 'secret mission.' "
"Wait'll you hear," Ron said, scarcely able to restrain himself.
"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked.
"Guess," Ron grinned even more broadly.
"She's probably doing the Potions essay you two should be doing," Ginny said with gentle reproval.
"Let's go," Harry said. "I have something I need to tell both of you." Harry turned to Ginny with apologetic eyes. "You don't mind? I really don't mean to ignore you..."
"Off you get," Ginny chuckled. "I'm fine."
Smiling his thanks, Harry strode through the portrait hole with Ron close on his heels. Hermione was, indeed, immersed in her Potions essay. She sat at a large table which was spread with books of every description. A very large and very old book lay open to her left, and her eyes darted back and forth as she wrote in small, elegant letters upon a long roll of parchment. Despite Harry's quiet urgings (Madam Pince had her eye on both him and Ron), Hermione refused to budge until she had finished the last paragraph of her essay. With a satisfied nod, she set her quill aside, closed the old book carefully, and smiled up at Harry.
"We need to talk," Harry said with quiet urgency, still wary of Madam Pince.
"I just need to put these books back," Hermione said.
"This is important, Hermione," Harry said impatiently.
"Then the quicker you help me re-shelve these, the sooner we can go and talk," Hermione said.
When at last the table was clear, Harry led his two friends outside in search of a private place where they could talk. The grounds were swarming with students, all of them enjoying the night in groups of two or more. The Prefects were keeping everyone within sight of the castle, so Harry set off in the direction of Hagrid's cabin, his way cleared by his and Hermione's silver Prefect badges glinting on their robes. They found a large, inviting tree that would mask them from the castle, and Harry motioned for Ron and Hermione to sit while he paced back and forth with barely-suppressed excitement.
"I couldn't let anyone else hear this," he said at last. "It's about the Marauders."
"Is that why you went to Hogsmeade today?" Ron said excitedly. "Is Snuffles back?"
"Yes," Harry said in a low voice. "Just for a day or two. But that's not what I want to talk about. It's more to do with the Marauders. All of them."
Hermione thought she heard Harry's voice break slightly as he spoke these last words. "What about them?" she prompted delicately.
"You remember that night in the Shrieking Shack," Harry began. "When Professor Lupin told us how his friends became Animagi to keep him company when he transformed into a werewolf."
Ron and Hermione both nodded.
"But what Lupin and Sirius didn't tell me -- because they didn't know themselves -- was that there was a fourth unregistered Animagus at Hogwarts then."
After a moment's pause, Hermione's brown eyes went round as bronze Knuts.
"Harry! You don't mean -- ?"
Harry gave a short, firm nod.
"Sirius once told me that they all practiced separately, to avoid drawing attention to themselves. Sometimes Sirius would help Pettigrew -- " Harry nearly stumbled over the name of the man whose betrayal had cost his parents their lives, " -- because he wasn't quite so adept as the rest. But for the most part, they all practiced alone, in far corners of the Hogwarts grounds where they wouldn't be seen. It's what Fred or George once called 'plausible deniability." If one of them got caught, the others would still be safe from suspicion. So none of them really knew what the others were up to, you see?"
Harry paused. Hermione seemed to be nodding very quietly to herself, but Ron's expression was one of complete bafflement. Addressing himself more to Ron than Hermione now, Harry went on.
"What I'm saying is, even as they were keeping the secret from everyone else, they were also keeping secrets from each other. Because all those times when Sirius was off helping Pettigrew, my dad was off helping someone, too. My mum."
Ron, who had been leaning back on his elbows, slipped and hit the back of his head on a tree root. He rubbed his head gingerly as he righted himself.
"They helped each other, actually," Harry continued. "Sirius said Charm work is a big part of the Animagus spell, and my mum -- " But Ron cut him off.
"Your mum was an -- an Animagus?" he stammered. "B-but -- you said even Sirius and Lupin didn't know. So who told you?"
"Moaning Myrtle," Harry said, which news brought a look of surprise to Hermione's face to match the one Ron already wore. "I learned today that she knows a lot more than people give her credit for. I reckon she knows about as much of what goes on around here as Dumbledore himself. She even knows about Sirius."
Ron and Hermione looked at each other in alarm. "She's not going to tell -- is she?" Hermione said fearfully.
"No," Harry said. "In fact, I think she could be very helpful. She gets around a lot, sees things that others miss. And with the basilisk no longer a threat, I don't think there's much Voldemort can do to hurt her."
"IF we can keep her from crying her head off every five minutes," Ron said, suppressing the shudder which mention of Voldemort's name had induced. "So, Harry, tell us about your mum. We know your dad was a stag when he transformed. What did your mum change into?"
A blithe expression drifted across Harry's face as he said: "A unicorn."
This time it was Hermione's turn to fall over. When she righted herself, combing bits of leaves and twigs from her bushy hair, she moved her mouth soundlessly as Harry gaped stupidly. Looking to Ron for reassurance, Harry was startled to see virtually the same stunned expression on Ron's face as on Hermione's.
"What is it?" Harry asked, his eyes shifting back and forth between Ron and Hermione. "You both look like you've seen a ghost -- and I'm not talking about Moaning Myrtle."
Hermione found her voice before Ron. In great detail, she told Harry about her duel with Ron, of the explosive reaction when their wands clashed, and of their visit to Ollivander's. Lacking Hermione's eloquence, Ron punctuated her narrative with occasional nods and grunts of affirmation. In the end, Harry's face took on a dazed expression that reminded Ron of Aidan Lynch, the Irish National Seeker, after he'd plowed his broomstick into the ground at the Quidditch World Cup match last year.
"It couldn't be," Harry said weakly. "I mean, there are loads of unicorns in the Forbidden Forest."
"But Mr. Ollivander said this unicorn appeared twenty years ago next month," Hermione said. "And he said he never saw her again. And you know how skittish unicorns are around males. But this one let Mr. Ollivander just walk up and pluck not just one hair, but two! And he said -- he said she had an almost -- human look in her eyes."
Harry, Ron and Hermione were all standing now. And, without realizing they had done so, all three had drawn their wands and were now regarding them intently.
"Is there any way of knowing for sure?" Harry said achingly. It was breaking his heart to think that some physical aspect of his mother could be so close and yet so far away. It should have come as no surprise to him that Hermione, as she did so often in class, had the answer.
"There's a spell that wandsmiths use," she said, "to determine the core of a wand as a means of identification. It produces an image of the magical creature whose 'donation' comprises the wand's core."
"What do we do?" Harry said anxiously.
After a thoughtful pause, Hermione said, "Let's switch wands. If the incantation isn't pronounced exactly right -- "
"Like 'Wingardium Leviosa?' " Ron said with a twinkle in his eye. It was exactly what was needed to break the tension of the moment, and Harry and Hermione both laughed as they exchanged wands.
Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, reviewing the spell in her mind. Opening her eyes, she nodded at Harry, who held out her wand. Extending Harry's wand, she touched its tip to her own and said, "Zoomagicus Revealus!"
As all three watched, a wisp of silver vapor emerged from the wand in Harry's hand. The misty cloud expanded, stretching out tendrils which slowly coalesced into long, slender limbs and an elongated head. Within moments, a horse-like creature was standing before them, white as solidified moonlight. Pale silver eyes stared out from beneath a tufted mane framing a long, magnificent horn.
But even as the trio gaped in silent awe at the splendid unicorn standing before them, the creature began to change. The sleek, equine body rose up, slimming as it did so, condensing into a slender, upright figure that stood on two feet. That which had been a mane was now become long, flowing hair framing a gentle face with deep, tender eyes that bored straight into Harry's soul.
"Mum?" Harry nearly sobbed. Looking back at him, her ghostly silver face radiant, Lily Potter smiled at her son. There was no mistaking her. How often had he seen her in one form or another in the past four years? In the Mirror of Erised -- in the photo album given him by Hagrid -- in the terrible dreams brought on by the presence of the dementors --
And in the cemetery at Little Hangleton, emerging ghost-like from Voldemort's wand, looking exactly as she did now. Feeling a fist squeezing his heart from the inside, Harry reached out a trembling hand to touch the face of the mother he had never known. But no sooner did his fingers brush her cheek than the silver mist of which she was composed dissolved. In the time it took Harry to bring his hand to his face to wipe his tear-stained cheeks, she was gone.
Harry stood motionless for what seemed an eternity. He did not react when Hermione took her wand back and pressed his own into his nerveless hand. When at last his muscles regained their motive power, Harry slowly removed his glasses and passed the sleeve of his robes across his damp, burning eyes.
"For so many years," he said weakly, "I felt like the loneliest person in the world. I didn't really care how my parents died. I only knew that they were gone. That I'd never know them.
"Then Hogwarts happened. Dumbledore told me that the dead we love never truly leave us. And he was right. First, I got my dad back. In the Patronus Charm. And now..."
Harry looked, through eyes now dry and clear, at his two best friends -- and at the wands in their hands -- the wands containing the only physical remainder of his dead mother.
"My two best friends," he said. "The most important people in my life. Yes, I have Sirius now. And one of these days we'll make a life for ourselves. I know that as sure as I'm standing here now. But you two are the top of the mountain as far as I'm concerned. Maybe it seemed that we were brought together by a chance meeting at Kings Cross -- and by a mountain troll in the girls' loo -- but I know now that there's more to it. It's -- it's like my mum knew, all those years ago. She let Mr. Ollivander take a part of her so that she'd live on after -- " Harry choked, drew a gasping breath. "And it can't be a coincidence that the two wands containing my mum's 'spirit' chose the two of you. It's all too -- perfect. No. It must be -- a sign."
For the second time that day, Ron nearly dropped his wand. "A -- sign?" he said in a ghostly voice.
"It must be," Harry said. "How else can you explain the three of us? Everything we've been through?
"Ron, you're the best mate a bloke ever had. I don't tell you that enough, but I hope you always knew it. I dunno where I'd be today if we'd never met that first day at Kings Cross."
Ron felt a lance of guilt for his prattish behavior last year that had nearly destroyed their friendship, fueled by his childish jealousy over Harry's celebrity. Looking back now, he didn't know how he ever could have doubted Harry when he swore that he hadn't placed his name in the Goblet of Fire. It would have served him right if Harry never forgave him. And yet here was Harry telling him that he was the best mate a bloke ever had!
No, Ron thought, he wasn't. Far from it. But, by Merlin, he would be! Starting from this very moment, he would be the best mate he could be. After all he had been through, Harry deserved nothing less.
Grinning with more than a trace of embarrassment, Ron answered Harry's rhetorical question: "You'll never have the chance to find out, mate. You'll see Millicent Bulstrode on the cover of Witch Weekly before they split us apart."
Smiling gratefully, Harry turned to fix Hermione with eyes suddenly tender -- and, Ron thought, almost worshipful.
"And what can I say about Hermione?" Harry said in a voice thick with emotion. "Smartest witch at Hogwarts. With a heart as big as the mountain we're standing on." He grinned as Hermione's cheeks flushed a deep magenta.
"Harry," Hermione said quickly in an effort to hide her unease, "did Myrtle say whether your mum had a special name for when she transformed? You know, like Prongs, and Padfoot?"
"Yeah," Harry said. "Myrtle said she heard them talking loads of times, before and after they transformed. Dad called her -- Snowfire."
"What a beautiful name," Hermione said, swallowing a sob.
A strange light suddenly glowed in Harry's emerald eyes, distinct even in the gathering darkness. He looked meaningfully into Hermione's eyes, nodding at her wand as he brandished his own for emphasis. Though no word passed between them, Hermione seemed to read Harry's mind instantly.
"Do you think we can, Harry?" she said hesitantly. "I mean, it's very advanced magic. It took you loads of practice -- and I've never even tried it before."
"Don't you remember what Hagrid said?" Harry smiled. Imitating Hagrid's gravelly voice, Harry quoted: "They 'aven't invented a spell our Hermione can't do." As Hermione continued to demur, Harry said gently, "Trust me, Hermione. We can do this." He held out his hand. "Together."
Blushing deeply as Ron looked on in bewilderment, Hermione took Harry's hand. Harry paused a moment, as if in thought. Then, in imitation of that fateful night nearly two years ago, he pointed his wand at the lake. Smiling appreciatively, Hermione did likewise.
"It's not so much about practice," Harry said knowledgably, "as state of mind. "The secret is a happy thought. I have mine," he said, squeezing her hand for emphasis. "How about you?"
Smiling broadly through a deep blush, Hermione nodded.
"On three," Harry said. "One...two..."
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" they cried together. Two silvery shapes leaped forth, one from Harry's wand, the other from Hermione's. The two Patroni galloped side-by-side over the surface of the lake with what seemed to Harry a wild, joyous abandon, their churning hooves making no slightest ripple on the smooth surface of the water. Ron's mouth fell open as he beheld the great, proud stag gliding effortlessly beside its mate, a sleek, breathtakingly beautiful unicorn. Observing Harry and Hermione out of the corner of his eye, he saw their hands clasp more tightly as they stood watching their magical creations cavort in what, Ron thought disconcertingly, was unmistakably a courtship ritual.
To Harry, it was like looking into a magic glass to behold a world at once strange and familiar. Unlike the Mirror of Erised, this was a window that looked into the past, revealing a Hogwarts that existed some two decades ago. In this moment -- and, in Harry's heart, for all time -- James Potter and Lily Evans were together again, forever sixteen and joyously, eternally in love. And, as he stood with the vision of his parents in his eyes and the feel of Hermione's hand in his, Harry vowed that Prongs and Snowfire would never be separated again.
All too quickly for Harry's liking, the marvelous tapestry wrought by equal parts of magic and love began to unravel. The two Patroni were fading, reverting to naught but formless mist and softly whispered memory. But as the three young wizards looked on with hearts alternately light and sad, there was no mistaking that, in their final moments of magical existence, Prongs and Snowfire were nuzzling each other in an unmistakable display of profound affection.
For his part, Ron found the spectacle somewhat discomforting, as if he were spying on an intimate moment best left unobserved. As he averted his eyes, he saw that Hermione was looking even more flustered than he (if that were possible). He quickly saw why. Harry was edging nearer to Hermione, and it looked to Ron as though Harry were trying to summon the pluck to kiss her! Hermione was more than aware of this, but as her hand was still held firmly in Harry's, she could not extricate herself from what was clearly an awkward position for the shy, bookish girl.
"Harry, you prat," Ron muttered under his breath. "What are you using for brains, dragon dung? You'll skew it all, you great berk."
Acting with the decisiveness Hermione had whetted in him during their repeated dueling sessions, Ron leaped forward and hooked his arm around Harry's neck.
"Come on, mate, let's go in," Ron said in a kind of light-hearted resignation. "We still have that Potions essay to finish, and Snape will boil us in Swelling Solution if we're late.
"And you can bet your Firebolt that Hermione isn't going to let us copy her paper!"
"Too right there," Hermione said, extracting her hand from Harry's as his grip relaxed. "Anyway," she added, "I still have two feet of ancient runes to translate by Monday. With all this business with the wands, and the trip to Ollivander's, I've let my work slide shamefully.
"I may not see you at breakfast tomorrow," she added, addressing both Harry and Ron. "I'll be going straight to -- "
"The library," Harry and Ron chorused.
Giggling with what Ron sensed was pure relief, Hermione gave Harry a quick but aggressive hug. Peeking over Harry's shoulder, Hermione caught Ron's eye and mouthed a silent, "Thank you." Ron grinned, tapping the side of his long nose knowingly.
As Hermione scampered off to the castle, Harry and Ron walked at a leisurely pace, neither in a hurry to go inside on so glorious a night. Without warning, Ron said, "Blimey, Harry, you nearly put your foot in it back there." As Harry flashed his friend a look that was equal parts surprise and embarrassment, Ron clapped him hard on the shoulder. "Look, mate, if you're gonna snog a bird, you can't just swoop in like owl post, know what I mean?"
Harry's eyes and mouth went round in perfect concert. "How did -- ?"
"It's like setting up a chessboard," Ron went on without missing a beat. "All the pieces have to be in place -- especially if you want to win the queen." He winked as Harry continued to stare stupidly. "Now, with a down-to-earth girl like Hermione," Ron said knowledgably, "you'll want to start simple. Say, nip on down to the kitchens and have Dobby pack you a picnic lunch for two. Follow that with a stroll around the lake, maybe holding hands, but not too possessive, you know? Trust me, she'll be all over you like ugly on Goyle's face -- well, you get my meaning.
"Am I going too fast for you?"
Harry was blinking his eyes rapidly. "How did -- you know?"
"Know what?" Ron said innocently.
"How did you know that I was -- that I was thinking about -- ?"
"Harry, Harry, Harry," Ron said cloyingly in a dead-on impersonation of Lockhart.
Harry blinked again, then they both burst out laughing.
"Seriously, Harry," Ron said with a knowing smile. "Trust me. If there's one thing I know -- " and once more he tapped his finger alongside his freckled nose, " -- it's how to read the signs."
***
Author's Note: And there you have it. As many of you may know, J.K. is promising some HUGE revelation about Lily Potter. It's also been said that her wand's proclivity for Charm work (mentioned in Book 1) will prove significant by story's end. Was Lily an Animagus? Very likely. Was she a Unicorn when she transformed? Quite possible. Are her tail hairs at the cores of Ron's and Hermione's wands? Probably not. But two out of three ain't bad. And if it's ALL dandelion fluff, so what? This is MY vision, freely shared with all who embrace the H/H Ideal. Let me know what you think.
I'm all geared up for the release of Order of the Phoenix, so I don't expect to return before July. But when I do, it will be with a bang! Next up will be my longest story by far. The plot? Nothing less than the wedding of Harry and Hermione!
But -- it will not be an ordinary wedding. It will be a truly magical WIZARD wedding, the likes of which has never been seen (I hope) in fan fiction. Reserve your seat for the WIZARD WEDDING OF THE MILLENNIUM in a story simply titled: The Joining. See you then.
And now, what are we waiting for? Last time, Ron found the Sign he was looking for. But does it mean what he THINKS it does?
What do YOU think? ^_^
Ron finally released his suppressed grin in the confines of the Gryffindor common room. He was all but dancing as he paced the area between the fireplace and the four overstuffed chairs ringing the hearth, and Ginny, who was sitting in one of those chairs, thought her brother might burst into song.
"This is it!" Ron exuberated, looking at his wand as if he wanted to kiss it. "The sign I was looking for! Brother wands!"
Completely lost for words, Ginny could only look on as Ron tossed his wand in the air and caught it, laughing like a house-elf drunk on butterbeer.
"Brother wands can never be used against each other," Ron announced giddily. "They can only work together! It's bloody marvelous! Everyone says Hermione and I could never be a couple because we fight all the time. But that's just -- I dunno -- surface tension or something. Deep down in our cores, Hermione and I are soul mates! Just like our wands!
"And to think I owe it all to Gilderoy Lockhart! If that smarmy git hadn't used my old wand to try to put a Memory Charm on Harry and me, it wouldn't have blown up, and Mum and Dad wouldn't have bought me this one!"
And, as Ginny looked on in shocked disbelief, Ron did kiss his wand. Shaking her head to clear that nauseating vision from her mind, she found her voice at last and said, "Mum and Dad would have got you a new wand anyway. I heard them say so loads of times. They just wanted to teach you a lesson after you and Harry pinched Dad's car. They knew you couldn't have used that wand indefinitely, even if it hadn't snapped. It was really Charlie's, after all. They knew you could never realize your full potential using a hand-me-down wand."
"See?" Ron beamed. To Ginny's near-horror, he was now caressing his wand the way a mother cat might have cuddled a favorite kitten. "It was destiny! Hermione got her wand five years ago, but the other one just sat in Ollivander's for ages. That's 'cause it was waiting for me! The wand chooses the wizard, you know."
Ginny did not know how to respond. She was thoroughly convinced that Harry and Hermione belonged together. Even during the three-plus years when she fancied Harry herself, she knew deep down that hers was a lost cause. It was always Hermione. Painful though it was to admit, it was something she had never doubted.
But what was she to think now? Ron's argument did make sense. There must be another answer, she thought - but if there was, it was one too deep for her to fathom.
"Say, where's Harry?" Ron said suddenly, looking like he was bursting to tell his best friend the news. "He must be back from Hogsmeade by now."
"He's upstairs," Ginny said, nodding toward the staircase leading to the boys' dorms.
"HARRY!" Ron shouted as Ginny grimaced, glad that the balmy evening had left the common room empty of students. "COME ON DOWN!"
A muffled thumping on the stairs was followed in short order by Harry, who wore a smile which, if not so wide as Ron's, was just as bright. Ginny had a strange feeling that Harry was just as eager as Ron to impart some news of his own.
"Been waiting for you and Hermione," Harry said eagerly. "Dumbledore said you'd gone off on a 'secret mission.' "
"Wait'll you hear," Ron said, scarcely able to restrain himself.
"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked.
"Guess," Ron grinned even more broadly.
"She's probably doing the Potions essay you two should be doing," Ginny said with gentle reproval.
"Let's go," Harry said. "I have something I need to tell both of you." Harry turned to Ginny with apologetic eyes. "You don't mind? I really don't mean to ignore you..."
"Off you get," Ginny chuckled. "I'm fine."
Smiling his thanks, Harry strode through the portrait hole with Ron close on his heels. Hermione was, indeed, immersed in her Potions essay. She sat at a large table which was spread with books of every description. A very large and very old book lay open to her left, and her eyes darted back and forth as she wrote in small, elegant letters upon a long roll of parchment. Despite Harry's quiet urgings (Madam Pince had her eye on both him and Ron), Hermione refused to budge until she had finished the last paragraph of her essay. With a satisfied nod, she set her quill aside, closed the old book carefully, and smiled up at Harry.
"We need to talk," Harry said with quiet urgency, still wary of Madam Pince.
"I just need to put these books back," Hermione said.
"This is important, Hermione," Harry said impatiently.
"Then the quicker you help me re-shelve these, the sooner we can go and talk," Hermione said.
When at last the table was clear, Harry led his two friends outside in search of a private place where they could talk. The grounds were swarming with students, all of them enjoying the night in groups of two or more. The Prefects were keeping everyone within sight of the castle, so Harry set off in the direction of Hagrid's cabin, his way cleared by his and Hermione's silver Prefect badges glinting on their robes. They found a large, inviting tree that would mask them from the castle, and Harry motioned for Ron and Hermione to sit while he paced back and forth with barely-suppressed excitement.
"I couldn't let anyone else hear this," he said at last. "It's about the Marauders."
"Is that why you went to Hogsmeade today?" Ron said excitedly. "Is Snuffles back?"
"Yes," Harry said in a low voice. "Just for a day or two. But that's not what I want to talk about. It's more to do with the Marauders. All of them."
Hermione thought she heard Harry's voice break slightly as he spoke these last words. "What about them?" she prompted delicately.
"You remember that night in the Shrieking Shack," Harry began. "When Professor Lupin told us how his friends became Animagi to keep him company when he transformed into a werewolf."
Ron and Hermione both nodded.
"But what Lupin and Sirius didn't tell me -- because they didn't know themselves -- was that there was a fourth unregistered Animagus at Hogwarts then."
After a moment's pause, Hermione's brown eyes went round as bronze Knuts.
"Harry! You don't mean -- ?"
Harry gave a short, firm nod.
"Sirius once told me that they all practiced separately, to avoid drawing attention to themselves. Sometimes Sirius would help Pettigrew -- " Harry nearly stumbled over the name of the man whose betrayal had cost his parents their lives, " -- because he wasn't quite so adept as the rest. But for the most part, they all practiced alone, in far corners of the Hogwarts grounds where they wouldn't be seen. It's what Fred or George once called 'plausible deniability." If one of them got caught, the others would still be safe from suspicion. So none of them really knew what the others were up to, you see?"
Harry paused. Hermione seemed to be nodding very quietly to herself, but Ron's expression was one of complete bafflement. Addressing himself more to Ron than Hermione now, Harry went on.
"What I'm saying is, even as they were keeping the secret from everyone else, they were also keeping secrets from each other. Because all those times when Sirius was off helping Pettigrew, my dad was off helping someone, too. My mum."
Ron, who had been leaning back on his elbows, slipped and hit the back of his head on a tree root. He rubbed his head gingerly as he righted himself.
"They helped each other, actually," Harry continued. "Sirius said Charm work is a big part of the Animagus spell, and my mum -- " But Ron cut him off.
"Your mum was an -- an Animagus?" he stammered. "B-but -- you said even Sirius and Lupin didn't know. So who told you?"
"Moaning Myrtle," Harry said, which news brought a look of surprise to Hermione's face to match the one Ron already wore. "I learned today that she knows a lot more than people give her credit for. I reckon she knows about as much of what goes on around here as Dumbledore himself. She even knows about Sirius."
Ron and Hermione looked at each other in alarm. "She's not going to tell -- is she?" Hermione said fearfully.
"No," Harry said. "In fact, I think she could be very helpful. She gets around a lot, sees things that others miss. And with the basilisk no longer a threat, I don't think there's much Voldemort can do to hurt her."
"IF we can keep her from crying her head off every five minutes," Ron said, suppressing the shudder which mention of Voldemort's name had induced. "So, Harry, tell us about your mum. We know your dad was a stag when he transformed. What did your mum change into?"
A blithe expression drifted across Harry's face as he said: "A unicorn."
This time it was Hermione's turn to fall over. When she righted herself, combing bits of leaves and twigs from her bushy hair, she moved her mouth soundlessly as Harry gaped stupidly. Looking to Ron for reassurance, Harry was startled to see virtually the same stunned expression on Ron's face as on Hermione's.
"What is it?" Harry asked, his eyes shifting back and forth between Ron and Hermione. "You both look like you've seen a ghost -- and I'm not talking about Moaning Myrtle."
Hermione found her voice before Ron. In great detail, she told Harry about her duel with Ron, of the explosive reaction when their wands clashed, and of their visit to Ollivander's. Lacking Hermione's eloquence, Ron punctuated her narrative with occasional nods and grunts of affirmation. In the end, Harry's face took on a dazed expression that reminded Ron of Aidan Lynch, the Irish National Seeker, after he'd plowed his broomstick into the ground at the Quidditch World Cup match last year.
"It couldn't be," Harry said weakly. "I mean, there are loads of unicorns in the Forbidden Forest."
"But Mr. Ollivander said this unicorn appeared twenty years ago next month," Hermione said. "And he said he never saw her again. And you know how skittish unicorns are around males. But this one let Mr. Ollivander just walk up and pluck not just one hair, but two! And he said -- he said she had an almost -- human look in her eyes."
Harry, Ron and Hermione were all standing now. And, without realizing they had done so, all three had drawn their wands and were now regarding them intently.
"Is there any way of knowing for sure?" Harry said achingly. It was breaking his heart to think that some physical aspect of his mother could be so close and yet so far away. It should have come as no surprise to him that Hermione, as she did so often in class, had the answer.
"There's a spell that wandsmiths use," she said, "to determine the core of a wand as a means of identification. It produces an image of the magical creature whose 'donation' comprises the wand's core."
"What do we do?" Harry said anxiously.
After a thoughtful pause, Hermione said, "Let's switch wands. If the incantation isn't pronounced exactly right -- "
"Like 'Wingardium Leviosa?' " Ron said with a twinkle in his eye. It was exactly what was needed to break the tension of the moment, and Harry and Hermione both laughed as they exchanged wands.
Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, reviewing the spell in her mind. Opening her eyes, she nodded at Harry, who held out her wand. Extending Harry's wand, she touched its tip to her own and said, "Zoomagicus Revealus!"
As all three watched, a wisp of silver vapor emerged from the wand in Harry's hand. The misty cloud expanded, stretching out tendrils which slowly coalesced into long, slender limbs and an elongated head. Within moments, a horse-like creature was standing before them, white as solidified moonlight. Pale silver eyes stared out from beneath a tufted mane framing a long, magnificent horn.
But even as the trio gaped in silent awe at the splendid unicorn standing before them, the creature began to change. The sleek, equine body rose up, slimming as it did so, condensing into a slender, upright figure that stood on two feet. That which had been a mane was now become long, flowing hair framing a gentle face with deep, tender eyes that bored straight into Harry's soul.
"Mum?" Harry nearly sobbed. Looking back at him, her ghostly silver face radiant, Lily Potter smiled at her son. There was no mistaking her. How often had he seen her in one form or another in the past four years? In the Mirror of Erised -- in the photo album given him by Hagrid -- in the terrible dreams brought on by the presence of the dementors --
And in the cemetery at Little Hangleton, emerging ghost-like from Voldemort's wand, looking exactly as she did now. Feeling a fist squeezing his heart from the inside, Harry reached out a trembling hand to touch the face of the mother he had never known. But no sooner did his fingers brush her cheek than the silver mist of which she was composed dissolved. In the time it took Harry to bring his hand to his face to wipe his tear-stained cheeks, she was gone.
Harry stood motionless for what seemed an eternity. He did not react when Hermione took her wand back and pressed his own into his nerveless hand. When at last his muscles regained their motive power, Harry slowly removed his glasses and passed the sleeve of his robes across his damp, burning eyes.
"For so many years," he said weakly, "I felt like the loneliest person in the world. I didn't really care how my parents died. I only knew that they were gone. That I'd never know them.
"Then Hogwarts happened. Dumbledore told me that the dead we love never truly leave us. And he was right. First, I got my dad back. In the Patronus Charm. And now..."
Harry looked, through eyes now dry and clear, at his two best friends -- and at the wands in their hands -- the wands containing the only physical remainder of his dead mother.
"My two best friends," he said. "The most important people in my life. Yes, I have Sirius now. And one of these days we'll make a life for ourselves. I know that as sure as I'm standing here now. But you two are the top of the mountain as far as I'm concerned. Maybe it seemed that we were brought together by a chance meeting at Kings Cross -- and by a mountain troll in the girls' loo -- but I know now that there's more to it. It's -- it's like my mum knew, all those years ago. She let Mr. Ollivander take a part of her so that she'd live on after -- " Harry choked, drew a gasping breath. "And it can't be a coincidence that the two wands containing my mum's 'spirit' chose the two of you. It's all too -- perfect. No. It must be -- a sign."
For the second time that day, Ron nearly dropped his wand. "A -- sign?" he said in a ghostly voice.
"It must be," Harry said. "How else can you explain the three of us? Everything we've been through?
"Ron, you're the best mate a bloke ever had. I don't tell you that enough, but I hope you always knew it. I dunno where I'd be today if we'd never met that first day at Kings Cross."
Ron felt a lance of guilt for his prattish behavior last year that had nearly destroyed their friendship, fueled by his childish jealousy over Harry's celebrity. Looking back now, he didn't know how he ever could have doubted Harry when he swore that he hadn't placed his name in the Goblet of Fire. It would have served him right if Harry never forgave him. And yet here was Harry telling him that he was the best mate a bloke ever had!
No, Ron thought, he wasn't. Far from it. But, by Merlin, he would be! Starting from this very moment, he would be the best mate he could be. After all he had been through, Harry deserved nothing less.
Grinning with more than a trace of embarrassment, Ron answered Harry's rhetorical question: "You'll never have the chance to find out, mate. You'll see Millicent Bulstrode on the cover of Witch Weekly before they split us apart."
Smiling gratefully, Harry turned to fix Hermione with eyes suddenly tender -- and, Ron thought, almost worshipful.
"And what can I say about Hermione?" Harry said in a voice thick with emotion. "Smartest witch at Hogwarts. With a heart as big as the mountain we're standing on." He grinned as Hermione's cheeks flushed a deep magenta.
"Harry," Hermione said quickly in an effort to hide her unease, "did Myrtle say whether your mum had a special name for when she transformed? You know, like Prongs, and Padfoot?"
"Yeah," Harry said. "Myrtle said she heard them talking loads of times, before and after they transformed. Dad called her -- Snowfire."
"What a beautiful name," Hermione said, swallowing a sob.
A strange light suddenly glowed in Harry's emerald eyes, distinct even in the gathering darkness. He looked meaningfully into Hermione's eyes, nodding at her wand as he brandished his own for emphasis. Though no word passed between them, Hermione seemed to read Harry's mind instantly.
"Do you think we can, Harry?" she said hesitantly. "I mean, it's very advanced magic. It took you loads of practice -- and I've never even tried it before."
"Don't you remember what Hagrid said?" Harry smiled. Imitating Hagrid's gravelly voice, Harry quoted: "They 'aven't invented a spell our Hermione can't do." As Hermione continued to demur, Harry said gently, "Trust me, Hermione. We can do this." He held out his hand. "Together."
Blushing deeply as Ron looked on in bewilderment, Hermione took Harry's hand. Harry paused a moment, as if in thought. Then, in imitation of that fateful night nearly two years ago, he pointed his wand at the lake. Smiling appreciatively, Hermione did likewise.
"It's not so much about practice," Harry said knowledgably, "as state of mind. "The secret is a happy thought. I have mine," he said, squeezing her hand for emphasis. "How about you?"
Smiling broadly through a deep blush, Hermione nodded.
"On three," Harry said. "One...two..."
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" they cried together. Two silvery shapes leaped forth, one from Harry's wand, the other from Hermione's. The two Patroni galloped side-by-side over the surface of the lake with what seemed to Harry a wild, joyous abandon, their churning hooves making no slightest ripple on the smooth surface of the water. Ron's mouth fell open as he beheld the great, proud stag gliding effortlessly beside its mate, a sleek, breathtakingly beautiful unicorn. Observing Harry and Hermione out of the corner of his eye, he saw their hands clasp more tightly as they stood watching their magical creations cavort in what, Ron thought disconcertingly, was unmistakably a courtship ritual.
To Harry, it was like looking into a magic glass to behold a world at once strange and familiar. Unlike the Mirror of Erised, this was a window that looked into the past, revealing a Hogwarts that existed some two decades ago. In this moment -- and, in Harry's heart, for all time -- James Potter and Lily Evans were together again, forever sixteen and joyously, eternally in love. And, as he stood with the vision of his parents in his eyes and the feel of Hermione's hand in his, Harry vowed that Prongs and Snowfire would never be separated again.
All too quickly for Harry's liking, the marvelous tapestry wrought by equal parts of magic and love began to unravel. The two Patroni were fading, reverting to naught but formless mist and softly whispered memory. But as the three young wizards looked on with hearts alternately light and sad, there was no mistaking that, in their final moments of magical existence, Prongs and Snowfire were nuzzling each other in an unmistakable display of profound affection.
For his part, Ron found the spectacle somewhat discomforting, as if he were spying on an intimate moment best left unobserved. As he averted his eyes, he saw that Hermione was looking even more flustered than he (if that were possible). He quickly saw why. Harry was edging nearer to Hermione, and it looked to Ron as though Harry were trying to summon the pluck to kiss her! Hermione was more than aware of this, but as her hand was still held firmly in Harry's, she could not extricate herself from what was clearly an awkward position for the shy, bookish girl.
"Harry, you prat," Ron muttered under his breath. "What are you using for brains, dragon dung? You'll skew it all, you great berk."
Acting with the decisiveness Hermione had whetted in him during their repeated dueling sessions, Ron leaped forward and hooked his arm around Harry's neck.
"Come on, mate, let's go in," Ron said in a kind of light-hearted resignation. "We still have that Potions essay to finish, and Snape will boil us in Swelling Solution if we're late.
"And you can bet your Firebolt that Hermione isn't going to let us copy her paper!"
"Too right there," Hermione said, extracting her hand from Harry's as his grip relaxed. "Anyway," she added, "I still have two feet of ancient runes to translate by Monday. With all this business with the wands, and the trip to Ollivander's, I've let my work slide shamefully.
"I may not see you at breakfast tomorrow," she added, addressing both Harry and Ron. "I'll be going straight to -- "
"The library," Harry and Ron chorused.
Giggling with what Ron sensed was pure relief, Hermione gave Harry a quick but aggressive hug. Peeking over Harry's shoulder, Hermione caught Ron's eye and mouthed a silent, "Thank you." Ron grinned, tapping the side of his long nose knowingly.
As Hermione scampered off to the castle, Harry and Ron walked at a leisurely pace, neither in a hurry to go inside on so glorious a night. Without warning, Ron said, "Blimey, Harry, you nearly put your foot in it back there." As Harry flashed his friend a look that was equal parts surprise and embarrassment, Ron clapped him hard on the shoulder. "Look, mate, if you're gonna snog a bird, you can't just swoop in like owl post, know what I mean?"
Harry's eyes and mouth went round in perfect concert. "How did -- ?"
"It's like setting up a chessboard," Ron went on without missing a beat. "All the pieces have to be in place -- especially if you want to win the queen." He winked as Harry continued to stare stupidly. "Now, with a down-to-earth girl like Hermione," Ron said knowledgably, "you'll want to start simple. Say, nip on down to the kitchens and have Dobby pack you a picnic lunch for two. Follow that with a stroll around the lake, maybe holding hands, but not too possessive, you know? Trust me, she'll be all over you like ugly on Goyle's face -- well, you get my meaning.
"Am I going too fast for you?"
Harry was blinking his eyes rapidly. "How did -- you know?"
"Know what?" Ron said innocently.
"How did you know that I was -- that I was thinking about -- ?"
"Harry, Harry, Harry," Ron said cloyingly in a dead-on impersonation of Lockhart.
Harry blinked again, then they both burst out laughing.
"Seriously, Harry," Ron said with a knowing smile. "Trust me. If there's one thing I know -- " and once more he tapped his finger alongside his freckled nose, " -- it's how to read the signs."
Author's Note: And there you have it. As many of you may know, J.K. is promising some HUGE revelation about Lily Potter. It's also been said that her wand's proclivity for Charm work (mentioned in Book 1) will prove significant by story's end. Was Lily an Animagus? Very likely. Was she a Unicorn when she transformed? Quite possible. Are her tail hairs at the cores of Ron's and Hermione's wands? Probably not. But two out of three ain't bad. And if it's ALL dandelion fluff, so what? This is MY vision, freely shared with all who embrace the H/H Ideal. Let me know what you think.
I'm all geared up for the release of Order of the Phoenix, so I don't expect to return before July. But when I do, it will be with a bang! Next up will be my longest story by far. The plot? Nothing less than the wedding of Harry and Hermione!
But -- it will not be an ordinary wedding. It will be a truly magical WIZARD wedding, the likes of which has never been seen (I hope) in fan fiction. Reserve your seat for the WIZARD WEDDING OF THE MILLENNIUM in a story simply titled: The Joining. See you then.
