A/N: And the concluding chapter to my wonderful story!!! Minus the epilogue-
which I fully expect everyone to hand around for!!!
Gilthas: If they're on your Author Alert list, they're see that you updated and read it anyway.
Me: Good point. Still, I'm rather proud of my epilogue, so read that when I post it!
Gilthas: They will! Just let them read your story!
Me: Right then. Off you go!
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Chapter 14: Back to Living Memories
Every word you ever said,
Echoes down your empty hallway.
Everything that was your world.
Just came down.
-Matchbox 20
Harry appeared on the outskirts of the town. Once again he blocked out his signature. No one would be able to sense his arriving. Now, where would Voldemort portkey Harry and Hermione?
Harry concentrated. The Muggle signatures that had been ever present vanished. The powers of two wizards came to his mind. Harry and Hermione.
He could not Apparate. It was too precarious. He didn't know where they were and he couldn't risk being seen. Harry took off at a run instead.
Harry's footsteps led him to the forest on the outside of town. Odd. Harry had expected the graveyard. He walked into the forest, feeling both the wizards' signature instantly grow stronger. He hesitated for only a moment. Harry's signature felt stronger still than it had in the battlefield before. Perhaps he had already unlocked some of his hidden strength.
Harry shook his head. It would not be enough. He continued on at a silent run. Then he stopped suddenly. He had come face to face with a wall of power. So Voldemort had simply confined his power to a small space. Must be almost suffocating. It was also very foolish. Harry did not have the power to feel the full might of it. It was only hurting himself. Such pointless acts usually came with large egos.
Harry walked through the wall. So here was the scene of battle. Harry looked a mess. He could feel the boy's pain. He could feel Hermione's fear. He could feel Voldemort's frustration. Good.
Silently he watched through the trees. His younger self seemed more prepared than he had expected. Odd. Harry had never seen such determination in anyone.anyone but those who knew death would come.
Sometimes the victims in his own time would fight like that. He always found himself surprised by the will they had to live, even after what they had done. As he looked upon the fighting form of his younger self, Harry saw, to his shock, the mirror image of himself.
For some reason this surprised him. He didn't know why. He had expected it. Harry could not win unless he knew the pain that he should have felt. But for some reason, it hurt-like a blow to him. Harry felt that he had failed his younger self somehow. Now it was too late. Once again he would come to be. This boy was doomed.
Doomed to become me, Harry thought suddenly. He is doomed to become Harry Potter, Death Eater hunter, a soulless void.
Harry felt something in him snap at that moment. Something that had been strained to breaking point without him even knowing it. He suddenly saw everything he had ever done, everything he had ever said, through the eyes of another. He saw the anger, the horror, the pain in his own eyes-eyes that none other saw through. He saw the emptiness, the sense of failure, and the pain of loss in the eyes of those who loved him, even as they spoke to him. He saw every move he had made in a whole new light. He did not fight Death Eaters.he fought himself.
Harry felt as if something horrible had slithered down inside him years ago and corrupted his soul. He felt like screaming, trying to get it out. He had something in him, and he had not known it. He had almost accepted it.
He could not move. He felt numb with this startling realization. He did not know how long he had stood there, lost completely in horrific memories. Everything he saw was different, terrible. He had not lost everything. He had lost himself.
Finally something broke through.
"Imperio!"
Harry snapped back to the present. A war had been waged before his unseeing eyes. But it wasn't too late. It was never too late.
"Ever read a Christmas Carol?"
"I have."
"Scrooge changed."
"That proves my point entirely."
"What are you talking about?"
"Well, he wasn't always like that, was he? Don't you remember the flashbacks? He was a good person. It's his old age that turned him sour. And in the end, he went back to the way he was originally."
"Are you comparing him to me then?"
"Completely."
"I hate to tell you this," Harry said quietly, "But it's going to take a lot more than three ghosts to make me return to how I was originally."
"Like a journey back in time, perhaps?"
"Like a journey back in time," Harry whispered.
He saw, as though from a memory, his younger self raise his wand against Hermione.
Hermione was sobbing. "No, Harry! You can fight this! I know you can!"
Harry saw his younger self hesitate.
Never too late.
Harry stepped on a twig. Voldemort's head jerked up. The curse lessened. Harry's younger self blinked back to reality. When he saw his wand raised and Hermione looking terrified in front of him, power rushed through him. He looked angry beyond anything.
Voldemort seemed to sense that the end was coming. "Crucio!" He yelled. The spell hit Harry. He did not react.
"Crucio!"
"Crucio!"
Harry was now beyond pain. The Cruciatus curse didn't matter. Voldemort had done enough damage. He would not kill Hermione too.
Harry yelled the words that he had never in his life thought he would yell. Voldemort looked stunned, but he was not fast enough. The curse hit him and in that instant, his life left his body. Harry's younger self stood looking at him, looking very dangerous.
But then the danger was over. It was all over. He had won. He collapsed to the ground.
Hermione screamed again. The ropes binding her lost their power and she ran to her friend. Harry looked up at her, his eyes slightly glazed.
"Hermione," he whispered. "Did you see it?"
"I saw it," Hermione said, tearing running down her face. "I'm so sorry, Harry!"
"No," Harry said. He struggled to keep consciousness. "Did you see it?"
"I saw!" Hermione said. "I saw!"
"No," Harry said desperately. He was in great pain. "Did you see it?"
"See what, Harry?" Hermione asked.
"The world," Harry said. "It's gone. I feel light."
"No!" Hermione screamed. "Harry! Stay with me! You can't leave me here!"
But Harry no longer looked at her. His eyes had wondered over to where his older self stood hidden in the shadows. "Hm," he said simply. His eyes closed and he fell back into unconsciousness.
Hermione was sobbing now. "Harry! No, please, no!"
Harry stepped out of the shadows. Hermione's head jerked up. "Who are you?"
Harry walked forward, his head still cloaked. He leaned down next to his younger self's unconscious form.
"No!" Hermione said. "Go away! He's been through enough!"
"I'm not going to hurt him," Harry said. Something caught in his throat. He did not try to push it away.
"Who are you?" Hermione repeated.
"A friend," Harry said. He looked at his younger self. His face looked so peaceful. "Don't leave him, Hermione."
"How did you know my name?"
"I know a lot," Harry said. His voice hardened. "Like how your friend would sit here for 3 days before the Muggles found him."
"What?" Hermione asked. "What are you talking about?"
"Nothing," Harry said. "Take care of him, okay? Don't let him go."
"I won't," Hermione whispered.
Harry stood up to leave.
"Wait," Hermione said. Harry hesitated. "Who are you?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Harry said.
"Try me," Hermione said.
Harry turned to face her. With shaking hands, Harry reached up and lowered his hood.
Hermione blinked. "But, you're Harry."
Harry turned to leave. "Don't let him go," he said as his parting words. He walked past the dead form of his ultimate nemesis and out of the forest.
* * *
Harry strode through the streets of Little Hangington without his usual purposeful stride. He saw everything differently again. This town wasn't so bad, scarred only from Ton Riddle's birth. But that wasn't the town's fault. That was Riddle's fault.
He felt himself enjoying the peacefulness of the night. The crickets chirped and the stars shone brightly. The moon shone only half full so he knew that he was not alone in his enjoyment this night.
Harry felt wonderful. He no longer felt alone. He felt happier than he had ever felt since this very night in his own time. If only he could stay.
Harry stopped. He had not meant to think that. The sudden realization that he would have to leave this peaceful world proved too much to think about. Harry looked around him. He wasn't ready! Not yet.
But you have to go back, said a voice in his head. You have to. That's where you belong. Not here. This is not your world. This is his world. Your world is waiting for you.
Harry swallowed hard. He would have to leave. But he had done everything right here. He had everything.
But you have everything there, said a voice in his head. Halloween is coming up, you know.
Halloween. That was Ron's favorite holiday. Ron had sent him a letter. He had not paid attention to it. He had thrown it aside.
Harry shook his head. He was being stupid. He would never be accepted here. But there, there he was wanted.
Harry closed his eyes and prepared to materialize. He stopped and pulled out his wand. It felt warm and comforting to his fingers. It was back where it belonged. He Apparated.
Seconds later he appeared back at Hogwarts. The battle was over. He did not pay attention to the dead bodies scattered everywhere. They seemed a part of his past.
Harry opened the large gates outside of Hogwarts. They creaked open. He felt the power of Hogwarts warm and comfort him. Everything was alright. They had won.
He walked with faltering footsteps toward the great doors. Twice he tried to turn back and at least three times he had to stop himself from hiding behind his cloak's hood.
He finally reached the great doors, he made to push them open, but he stopped. Reaching out a shaking hand, he made to knock twice on the doors, seeking permission to enter. Before his hand even hit the door, it swung open. Hogwarts had let him in.
He stepped over the threshold and swallowed back a wave of memories. With halting footsteps, he made his way to the teachers' lounge. Somehow, he knew that they had ended up there.
He stopped outside of the lounge and heard voices from inside. He knocked on the door again.
The voices quieted. The next second, the door opened a crack and he saw Lupin's eyes appear. Instantly the door was open. "Harry!"
"What is he doing here?" cried McGonagall, running to the door. "All the students-" She stopped when she saw Harry. "What?"
"Hello, Professor," Harry said respectively.
"Who is this?" McGonagall asked Lupin.
"This is Harry," Lupin said. "Harry Potter."
"I can see that," McGonagall said. "But he's not the same person!"
"I'm from the future," Harry said quickly. "I was transported here on accident when I chased down Death Eaters in my time and I got caught up in what was happening. I'm the one who took down the Death Eater's shield."
"That was you?" McGonagall asked, impressed. "That was very impressive magic, Potter."
"Thank you," Harry said. The words felt unfamiliar to him.
Lupin looked at Harry. "Why don't you come in?"
Harry walked into the room. It was practically empty. Sirius was there, nursing a head wound, McGonagall and Lupin, Sinistra, and Flitwick.
They looked at Harry with widened eyes.
"Where is everyone else?" Harry asked Lupin.
Lupin's eyes clouded. "We're it."
"What?" Harry asked sharply. "This is everyone?"
"This is everyone," Lupin said hollowly. "And something tells me the fighting has only just begun."
"It's wrong," Harry said quietly.
The room went very quiet. Everyone had stopped moving.
"What do you mean?" Sirius asked.
"Harry is currently lying unconscious in the forest of Little Hangington. Voldemort is dead at his feet."
Uproar sounded at this.
Sirius jumped to his feet. "Is he okay? What's wrong with him?"
"He's been through a lot," Harry said. "Hermione's there."
"Hermione?" McGonagall said faintly. "Why in heaven's name is she there?"
"Voldemort kidnapped her and used her to lure Harry out of the castle."
"But Harry got out with the others," Flitwick squeaked. "All the students left."
"They didn't," Lupin said. "I saw them. I thought little Harry was this Harry and then I saw Ron and I panicked because I knew he was a student and grabbed him to portkey him out. Only then did I realize that it this Harry wasn't who I thought he was."
"Where is he exactly?" Sirius asked, grabbing his wand. "I'll go get them. I'll bring him here."
"What can we do?" Sinistra asked. "I mean, Madam Pomfrey."
"I'll get Fawkes," Harry said. "I'm probably the only one who can get into the headmaster's office."
Lupin nodded and motioned for Sirius to go. "Be careful," he warned. "They don't know you're back."
Sirius nodded and left the room.
Harry waved his wand and materialized in the headmaster's office. The portraits were all actually sleeping this time. Phineas awoke when he heard Harry.
"Did we win?"
A few of the other portraits opened their eyes groggily and reached over to wake their neighbors up. Before Harry could say anything, every one of them had awoken completely and looking at him expectantly. Even Fawkes opened a bleary eye.
"Did we win?" Phineas repeated. "Come now, you're keeping us waiting!"
"We won," Harry said.
The portraits looked at each other in delight.
"That means you can make Dumbledore's portrait now!" said a witch excitedly.
"Yes! Make the portrait!" said a wizard happily.
"The portrait!"
Harry looked at the witches and wizards in confusion. "Why is this portrait so important?"
"Because," Phineas said, obviously annoyed at Harry's ignorance. "Until the portrait is made and the portrait maker unlocks the door, a new headmaster can't enter the room!"
"That doesn't make any sense," Harry said. "How would the portrait maker enter the room in the first place?"
"They always find a way," said a witch. "They want to say good-bye in peace."
Harry looked around the room. Fawkes let out a chirp and blinked at Harry with those almost human-like eyes. Harry hesitated. Sirius wouldn't be back for awhile now. He probably had time.
He nodded. "I'll do it. I have to warn you, though. I'm not much of a painter."
"You don't need to be," said a witch. "There are some empty frames in there." She pointed to a door. "Grab one and I'll tell you what to do."
Harry opened the door. Inside laid a single picture frame. He looked at the pictures on the wall. "There's only one left."
"There's always only one left," said a wizard.
"Just take that one," said the witch. Harry grabbed the frame and closed the door behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that the door had vanished.
"Never to return until the next headmaster goes," said a wizard, looking at the empty wall.
Harry placed the frame on the desk. "Now what?"
"Place your hand other than your wand hand on the frame," instructed the witch. Harry placed his left hand on the frame.
"Now all you have to do is remember everything you can about Albus Dumbledore. What he told you, his opinions, everything. Appearance really doesn't matter that much."
Harry looked at the witch in some confusion, but she was nodding at him, encouraging him to continue. Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
He focused his memory on everything Dumbledore had ever told him.
"Why haven't you figured it out yet?" Dumbledore asked, his face expressionless.
"Figured what out?" Harry asked.
"That you being here is not an accident. You have the ability to change the past if you wish to do so."
"What would I change?" Harry asked shortly. "When the final battle comes, it will not be I who stands there. It will be the Harry you know. And without the events that occur here, he would not have the ability to do what he did."
"Is that so?" Dumbledore asked, searching his robes for something. "Then perhaps you have once again underestimated yourself."
"I don't need this from you," Harry said shortly. "I have my own life now, and I'm going to get back."
"Back to what?" Dumbledore said, pausing in his search to look at Harry with those piercing blue eyes. "From what I can tell, you have nothing left."
"I have everything I need!" Harry said coldly. "And that's more than I ever had here!"
"Ah, you know that to be untrue," Dumbledore said.
"What are you talking about? I have nothing here. Everything I thought I had will be gone within the month; at the end of this year, I'm going to be left on the ground, forgotten, for three days, drifting in and out of consciousness until I am found by Muggles. Don't say I have everything I need."
A flicker of emotion flashed over Dumbledore's face when he heard this. Harry scowled but did not look away. "I'm not asking for your pity. I've gotten over it. That should be good enough for you."
"I might have been," Dumbledore said softly. "Had I not known this to be a lie."
"You know nothing," Harry said shortly. "You don't have any idea about what is to come."
"I know that is has forced you to push away your very humanity," Dumbledore said quietly, surveying Harry over his half moon spectacles. "I can therefore assume that you lost everything you held dear to you. This is war, Harry, but even in war, such a thing should not happen."
"But it did. It will happen. It has happened; it's too late to stop it. Everyone 'that I hold dear' is dead. I killed them." He hadn't meant to say the last line. It had sort of slipped out. Dumbledore seemed to realize this.
"You did not kill them," Dumbledore said fiercely. "Voldemort did."
"And I suppose that by holding my wand to their heart and yelling, 'Avada Kedavra' doesn't mean I killed them," Harry said coldly. "You don't have any idea what you're talking about."
"But I know you," Dumbledore said. He hadn't even flinched at Harry's last line. "And I know that you would never do such a thing."
"You don't know me. You never will."
"But I do know the you that belongs in this time, and it's that Harry; that less capable Harry, if you please, that must suffer through it all. I know him. I know that he always follows his heart."
"And just look at all the people I've killed already," Harry said with a smirk that took some effort to place on his face. "I suppose Cedric is dead. Sirius is too. The Weasley family should come next. I'm surprised they haven't already. Oh, and let me guess, Hermione's parents died this summer in an attack. I saw the whole thing."
"You're simply telling me your past," Dumbledore said, but Harry could tell he had mentally stored the information about the Weasleys. "It is your future for which I am concerned."
"Don't be," Harry said. "It's not as if you have any say in it."
"I will never turn my back on you, Harry," Dumbledore said. "You know that."
The memories went further back.
"I cared about you too much," said Dumbledore simply. "I cared more for your happiness than your knowing the truth, more for your peace of mind than my plan, more for your life than the lives that might be lost if the plan failed. In other words, I acted exactly how Voldemort expects we fools who love to act."
"Is there a defense? I defy anyone who has watched you as I have-and I have watched you more closely than you can have imagined-not to want to save you more pain than you have already suffered. What did I care if numbers of nameless and faceless people and creatures were slaughtered in the vague future, if in the here and now you were alive, well, and happy? I never dreamed I would have such a person on my hands."
Harry remembered everything and felt his throat getting tight. It was hard to think that he would never speak to Dumbledore again. He hadn't bothered about it last time. It's not that he didn't care. He had cared so much that he wanted the pain to end. So he had pushed it away.
He opened his eyes. He looked down at the painting and saw Dumbledore's face looking up at him, blinking. The whole room seemed to be holding its breath.
"Unless the one person Dumbledore cared for most makes the portrait, the portrait will be incomplete. It will be just like the portraits outside this room. They had no memory when they were painted."
Dumbledore's portrait looked up at Harry. Then he looked around. "It would seem that I'm a portrait." He said.
"Er.Professor?" Harry asked uncertainly.
"Yes, Harry?" asked Dumbledore.
"Do you remember everything?"
"I do," Dumbledore said. "I suppose I'm dead now, am I? Tell me, where do I get to hang?"
The portraits on the wall burst into applause. Dumbledore looked around. "Hello, everyone."
"Put him here!" said Dippit, gesturing to the empty place beside him. Harry lifted Dumbledore's portrait off the desk and placed it in the empty spot the other portraits gestured.
Dumbledore looked a little shaken after the ride. "Right, well I suppose I shall have to get used to being a portrait, shall I?"
"It's not as bad as you think," said Phineas dismissively. "I say, who should be the new headmaster?"
"That is not longer my concern," Dumbledore said comfortably settling himself down into his chair. "I think maybe I should get some sleep."
Harry grinned. It was good to see Dumbledore again. Fawkes let out a trill. Harry jumped. "I have to go! Harry's just defeated Voldemort. Sirius went to get him."
"Sirius? Indeed. Well, I shall have the new headmaster explain it to me," Dumbledore said, opening one eye.
Harry grinned. Then his grin faltered. "You know I'll have to go back when this is all through."
"I believe in you," Dumbledore said.
"But what if I'm not ready to go back?" Harry asked.
"Was Harry ready to fight Voldemort?" Dumbledore countered.
Harry nodded in understanding, Dumbledore's words bringing comfort. With a wave of his hand, he appeared back in the teachers' lounge. Fawkes burst into flame above his head.
"Is Sirius back yet?"
Lupin shook his head. "You've been gone for a while."
"I'm here now," Harry said. "And tonight I'm leaving."
Lupin nodded in understanding.
"I have a question," Harry said. "Who is it that killed Snape?"
"No idea," Lupin said. "Why?"
"He's alive in my time, that's all," Harry said. His eyes wandered to the window where the bloody battlefield shone below. A person Apparated at the gate, carrying something heavy in their arms.
"Sirius is back," Harry said as a girl appeared at his side, looking worried, as ever to have broken the law of Apparition.
"Hermione's with him. They have Harry."
"I had better go see to the hospital wing," Lupin said. "Perhaps you could send Fawkes along. He has never seemed to listen to me."
Harry nodded as the intelligent bird looked at him questioningly. Fawkes took flight with a widening of his large wings.
They left Harry alone to watch from his lofty perch as Sirius half ran towards the castle. He supposed Harry must be very light to be able to run at all. Hermione had to slow down for him, urging him forward.
Harry looked away. He remembered vividly those three terrible days as he waited, without hope, for someone to find him. The pain had been unimaginable. And not just physically. He had lain next to the body of his best friend.and the person who killed her.
Harry didn't notice it then, but he would look back on it in the years to come as the final moments in which he had fully recovered from his shattered life. He had finally admitted to himself that Voldemort had murdered Hermione. Hermione would have forgiven him years ago for not having the strength left to fight, but it was not Hermione's forgiveness that had been the final moment; it was him, forgiving himself.
He shook his head as he tried to push the pain away. He'd done that enough in one life time and it hadn't worked then. It certainly would not now.
Sirius and Hermione left Harry's and he turned from the window. So there he was. It was one of those lost moments in which he saw where he was and wondered how he'd gotten there. He put his hands in his pockets.
His hand touched a small box. Curiously, Harry pulled it out. The box of Avenir Potion. His ticket home.
Once again Harry hesitated. How could he possibly be forgiven after what he'd done?
"Harry."
Harry turned. McGonagall stood in the doorway.
"Hello, Professor."
McGonagall smiled. "Professor? It's odd to think that I should have ever really taught at this school. It seems like a lifetime ago."
"You have no idea," Harry said, thinking about something completely different.
"After all the wars this school has seen, I would hardly think that one more should make a difference."
"Sometimes only one thing can make a bigger difference than you might think," Harry pointed out.
"Now that I believe entirely," McGonagall said, looking at Harry pointedly. Harry looked away and out the window again, still fingering the small box in silent contemplation.
"You would never have expected," McGonagall continued. "For that little baby we placed on the doorstep that night to have accomplished the things you have done."
"It wasn't my choice, I assure you," Harry said fervently, his gaze drifting toward the Quidditch field.
"But it was," McGonagall said. "I thought we had taught you something here."
"Like what?" Harry asked without thinking.
"Harry!" McGonagall said grinning.
Harry amended quickly. "I mean, that is related to this topic of conversation."
"I know," McGonagall said, still smiling. "Dumbledore used to preach unrelentingly that one makes their own decisions. He said that every single thing that happens to a person is a consequence of their own choices." She looked Harry right in the eye. "And I still believe him to this very day. I think that everything you have gone through, you chose to go through, not for your own personal comfort, but for the overall good. See, that's the difference between you and a lot of other people, Harry. You have the ability to see beyond everything you know and believe. You can look at the bigger picture, while others struggle with their own."
"Thanks, I think," Harry said grinning.
"See now, you're not horrible and mean," McGonagall said. "Remus had some crazy idea about you being moody and irritable."
"Yeah?" Harry asked. He looked back at the pitch again. "He was right in a way."
"Really?" McGonagall asked.
"Yeah, but I'm over it now," Harry said. "I'm just not ready to go back home."
"I can't possibly imagine what it is that could push you that far over the edge," McGonagall said, looking at Harry questioningly.
"It's better not thought about," Harry said quietly. He could feel himself shrinking away, closing up, and pushed hard against that all too familiar feeling.
McGonagall obviously felt it better not to pursue the subject. "It's going to take a lot of work to get Hogwarts back to her old self."
Harry seizes gratefully at the topic. "She'll be back in no time."
"I suppose she had a fight or two left in her," McGonagall said, not looking at Harry but across the bloody grounds.
"I suppose she did."
There was silence for a moment.
The door opened.
"Harry!" Sirius popped his head in. "It's Harry-the other one. He's not in too good of shape."
"How good is 'not too good'?" McGonagall asked.
When Sirius didn't answer at once, Harry was instantly alert. "Is he in the hospital wing?"
Sirius nodded.
The next second, Harry vanished.
He appeared in the hospital wing. Looking around, he saw that Hermione lay asleep in another bed. He supposed someone must have knocked her out to keep her from hovering.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked.
"He's got some deep cuts," Remus said, not looking up from his inspection of the boy on the bed. "He's broken a few bones-nothing an experienced healer couldn't handle. I sent Sirius to get one."
"Sirius came straight to me," Harry said, not realizing the significance.
Remus looked up. "Looks like he's got some confidence in you. Any expertise in the medical field?"
"I healed myself of a bullet wound only a few hours ago.or maybe it just seemed like a few hours."
"Can you heal someone else?" Remus asked.
"I thought I had Fawkes for that."
There was a soft trill and Fawkes materialized in front of Harry.
"Fawkes won't come unless he's called," Remus said, looking at Harry with a significant look that Harry almost missed. He wasn't quite as perceptive as he used to be, or else he had simply found more important things to do, rather than be constantly suspicious. He shook his head and watched as Fawkes landed on the bedpost and looked questioningly at Harry with his intelligent eyes.
"He just finished his fight with Voldemort," Harry explained. "Voldemort almost made him kill his best friend." Harry tried hard to keep the regret out of his voice but he wasn't doing very well.
"I didn't know this," Remus said, looking questioningly at Harry. "What happened?"
"Imperious curse," Harry said. "At the end of the battle. He almost succeeded in making Harry kill Hermione. He would have too, if he hadn't broken through at the last moment."
Harry pushed back the memories that always seemed to resurface at the thought of Hermione. He couldn't go soft, not now. Not when he was needed so badly here.
"You saw it all, did you?" Remus asked. "And would you have intervened had he not been able to throw it off?"
"I did," Harry said quietly.
Remus looked at him sharply. "Do you mean."
"You wondered," Harry said coldly. He could feel himself slipping as everything he had worked for seemed to have become less than before. Remus seemed to sense it too.
"Do you really have no one left in your time?"
Harry struggled to bring himself back out of the whole he had just begun to dig. The thought of Ron offered him some strength. "No," Harry said. "I do have someone. I just don't think he can ever think of me the same way again."
Remus looked at him a moment, and then it seemed to dawn on him. "Ron."
Harry nodded. "He has a Halloween get-together every year. It's his favorite holiday. I've never been, but he always sends an invitation."
"It seems to me that he's never stopped looking at you the same way," Remus said. "It sounds to me like it's you that can't look at yourself the same way."
Harry looked up and saw out of the corner of his eye, that Fawkes was crying.
* * *
"All the time in the world shall be mine! Let me pass through the barriers of the mortal realm and walk once again upon soil that is my own! The skies shall not tremble and the earth beneath my very feet will be the earth that belongs there! Let me return to the present and let time be healed!"
The portal burst into being in front of him. The pressure he had expected did not come and, somehow, he knew that this time the portal would let him through.
He looked back and saw Remus looking back at him. He nodded once and Harry turned back to the portal.
"Laisser entrer!" Harry chanted. He took another step forward.
The pressure of the portal no longer held him back. He held himself back and he knew it.
He did not look back at Remus again, for he knew that if he did, he would not be able to do what he knew he had to do.
I think that everything you have gone through, you chose to go through, not for your own personal comfort, but for the overall good.
Harry took another step in front of the portal and found himself much too close. He wasn't ready to go yet. He wasn't ready.
Was Harry ready to fight Voldemort?
Phoenix song trilled in his ears. He didn't know where it was coming from, but it gave him strength, and he was grateful.
He the front of the portal loomed in front of him now and he took a step forward. He could feel the strands of time give way, only for a moment, so that he may pass. He looked back to see his godfather and his former professor for the last time, but they were gone. All that was before him now was the swirling mass that was time.
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A/N: There it is. My wonderful story. The epilogue is coming, I remind you again.
Gilthas: They know!
Me: I know! I just wanted to mention it before we got any further...
gual1: Up and ready to read. Or already have been read...whichever.
Darkmoon Fleur: Both saved-happy and healthy. Well, less healthy in Harry's case, but he's okay, right? More in the epilogue!
Authoress: One question. How long did it take you to write all that?
A-man: Gees. There's one review I'm not going to copy off and hang on my refrigerator...
potter-man1: 'The first', huh? I have a friend who's a 'Jr.' I just managed to get way off topic...
Nasser Himura: *is horrified* Kill future Harry off? I wouldn't dream of it!
Meggles: Thanks! *grins widely*
Allizarin Sylvain Phyre: 'Allizarin Sylvain Phyre' it is. Do you have any idea how hard that is to spell? :)
Vampire Story Hunter: Done and done.
Liz: You didn't review! You should be flogged! Okay, press that little blue button. Press it! Come on! You can do it! I have faith in your button pressing abilities.
Gilthas: Thank you for all the reviews!
Me: I usually say that.
Gilthas: I just beat you to it.
Me: Crap. Oh well, thank you for all the reviews and please to review again!!! I like them! They make me happy.
Gilthas: And me.
Me: And if they make my muse happy, then they really are happiness bringers.
Gilthas: *wistfully* I wish the rest of the world went by those rules...
Me: *grins*
Gilthas: If they're on your Author Alert list, they're see that you updated and read it anyway.
Me: Good point. Still, I'm rather proud of my epilogue, so read that when I post it!
Gilthas: They will! Just let them read your story!
Me: Right then. Off you go!
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Chapter 14: Back to Living Memories
Every word you ever said,
Echoes down your empty hallway.
Everything that was your world.
Just came down.
-Matchbox 20
Harry appeared on the outskirts of the town. Once again he blocked out his signature. No one would be able to sense his arriving. Now, where would Voldemort portkey Harry and Hermione?
Harry concentrated. The Muggle signatures that had been ever present vanished. The powers of two wizards came to his mind. Harry and Hermione.
He could not Apparate. It was too precarious. He didn't know where they were and he couldn't risk being seen. Harry took off at a run instead.
Harry's footsteps led him to the forest on the outside of town. Odd. Harry had expected the graveyard. He walked into the forest, feeling both the wizards' signature instantly grow stronger. He hesitated for only a moment. Harry's signature felt stronger still than it had in the battlefield before. Perhaps he had already unlocked some of his hidden strength.
Harry shook his head. It would not be enough. He continued on at a silent run. Then he stopped suddenly. He had come face to face with a wall of power. So Voldemort had simply confined his power to a small space. Must be almost suffocating. It was also very foolish. Harry did not have the power to feel the full might of it. It was only hurting himself. Such pointless acts usually came with large egos.
Harry walked through the wall. So here was the scene of battle. Harry looked a mess. He could feel the boy's pain. He could feel Hermione's fear. He could feel Voldemort's frustration. Good.
Silently he watched through the trees. His younger self seemed more prepared than he had expected. Odd. Harry had never seen such determination in anyone.anyone but those who knew death would come.
Sometimes the victims in his own time would fight like that. He always found himself surprised by the will they had to live, even after what they had done. As he looked upon the fighting form of his younger self, Harry saw, to his shock, the mirror image of himself.
For some reason this surprised him. He didn't know why. He had expected it. Harry could not win unless he knew the pain that he should have felt. But for some reason, it hurt-like a blow to him. Harry felt that he had failed his younger self somehow. Now it was too late. Once again he would come to be. This boy was doomed.
Doomed to become me, Harry thought suddenly. He is doomed to become Harry Potter, Death Eater hunter, a soulless void.
Harry felt something in him snap at that moment. Something that had been strained to breaking point without him even knowing it. He suddenly saw everything he had ever done, everything he had ever said, through the eyes of another. He saw the anger, the horror, the pain in his own eyes-eyes that none other saw through. He saw the emptiness, the sense of failure, and the pain of loss in the eyes of those who loved him, even as they spoke to him. He saw every move he had made in a whole new light. He did not fight Death Eaters.he fought himself.
Harry felt as if something horrible had slithered down inside him years ago and corrupted his soul. He felt like screaming, trying to get it out. He had something in him, and he had not known it. He had almost accepted it.
He could not move. He felt numb with this startling realization. He did not know how long he had stood there, lost completely in horrific memories. Everything he saw was different, terrible. He had not lost everything. He had lost himself.
Finally something broke through.
"Imperio!"
Harry snapped back to the present. A war had been waged before his unseeing eyes. But it wasn't too late. It was never too late.
"Ever read a Christmas Carol?"
"I have."
"Scrooge changed."
"That proves my point entirely."
"What are you talking about?"
"Well, he wasn't always like that, was he? Don't you remember the flashbacks? He was a good person. It's his old age that turned him sour. And in the end, he went back to the way he was originally."
"Are you comparing him to me then?"
"Completely."
"I hate to tell you this," Harry said quietly, "But it's going to take a lot more than three ghosts to make me return to how I was originally."
"Like a journey back in time, perhaps?"
"Like a journey back in time," Harry whispered.
He saw, as though from a memory, his younger self raise his wand against Hermione.
Hermione was sobbing. "No, Harry! You can fight this! I know you can!"
Harry saw his younger self hesitate.
Never too late.
Harry stepped on a twig. Voldemort's head jerked up. The curse lessened. Harry's younger self blinked back to reality. When he saw his wand raised and Hermione looking terrified in front of him, power rushed through him. He looked angry beyond anything.
Voldemort seemed to sense that the end was coming. "Crucio!" He yelled. The spell hit Harry. He did not react.
"Crucio!"
"Crucio!"
Harry was now beyond pain. The Cruciatus curse didn't matter. Voldemort had done enough damage. He would not kill Hermione too.
Harry yelled the words that he had never in his life thought he would yell. Voldemort looked stunned, but he was not fast enough. The curse hit him and in that instant, his life left his body. Harry's younger self stood looking at him, looking very dangerous.
But then the danger was over. It was all over. He had won. He collapsed to the ground.
Hermione screamed again. The ropes binding her lost their power and she ran to her friend. Harry looked up at her, his eyes slightly glazed.
"Hermione," he whispered. "Did you see it?"
"I saw it," Hermione said, tearing running down her face. "I'm so sorry, Harry!"
"No," Harry said. He struggled to keep consciousness. "Did you see it?"
"I saw!" Hermione said. "I saw!"
"No," Harry said desperately. He was in great pain. "Did you see it?"
"See what, Harry?" Hermione asked.
"The world," Harry said. "It's gone. I feel light."
"No!" Hermione screamed. "Harry! Stay with me! You can't leave me here!"
But Harry no longer looked at her. His eyes had wondered over to where his older self stood hidden in the shadows. "Hm," he said simply. His eyes closed and he fell back into unconsciousness.
Hermione was sobbing now. "Harry! No, please, no!"
Harry stepped out of the shadows. Hermione's head jerked up. "Who are you?"
Harry walked forward, his head still cloaked. He leaned down next to his younger self's unconscious form.
"No!" Hermione said. "Go away! He's been through enough!"
"I'm not going to hurt him," Harry said. Something caught in his throat. He did not try to push it away.
"Who are you?" Hermione repeated.
"A friend," Harry said. He looked at his younger self. His face looked so peaceful. "Don't leave him, Hermione."
"How did you know my name?"
"I know a lot," Harry said. His voice hardened. "Like how your friend would sit here for 3 days before the Muggles found him."
"What?" Hermione asked. "What are you talking about?"
"Nothing," Harry said. "Take care of him, okay? Don't let him go."
"I won't," Hermione whispered.
Harry stood up to leave.
"Wait," Hermione said. Harry hesitated. "Who are you?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Harry said.
"Try me," Hermione said.
Harry turned to face her. With shaking hands, Harry reached up and lowered his hood.
Hermione blinked. "But, you're Harry."
Harry turned to leave. "Don't let him go," he said as his parting words. He walked past the dead form of his ultimate nemesis and out of the forest.
* * *
Harry strode through the streets of Little Hangington without his usual purposeful stride. He saw everything differently again. This town wasn't so bad, scarred only from Ton Riddle's birth. But that wasn't the town's fault. That was Riddle's fault.
He felt himself enjoying the peacefulness of the night. The crickets chirped and the stars shone brightly. The moon shone only half full so he knew that he was not alone in his enjoyment this night.
Harry felt wonderful. He no longer felt alone. He felt happier than he had ever felt since this very night in his own time. If only he could stay.
Harry stopped. He had not meant to think that. The sudden realization that he would have to leave this peaceful world proved too much to think about. Harry looked around him. He wasn't ready! Not yet.
But you have to go back, said a voice in his head. You have to. That's where you belong. Not here. This is not your world. This is his world. Your world is waiting for you.
Harry swallowed hard. He would have to leave. But he had done everything right here. He had everything.
But you have everything there, said a voice in his head. Halloween is coming up, you know.
Halloween. That was Ron's favorite holiday. Ron had sent him a letter. He had not paid attention to it. He had thrown it aside.
Harry shook his head. He was being stupid. He would never be accepted here. But there, there he was wanted.
Harry closed his eyes and prepared to materialize. He stopped and pulled out his wand. It felt warm and comforting to his fingers. It was back where it belonged. He Apparated.
Seconds later he appeared back at Hogwarts. The battle was over. He did not pay attention to the dead bodies scattered everywhere. They seemed a part of his past.
Harry opened the large gates outside of Hogwarts. They creaked open. He felt the power of Hogwarts warm and comfort him. Everything was alright. They had won.
He walked with faltering footsteps toward the great doors. Twice he tried to turn back and at least three times he had to stop himself from hiding behind his cloak's hood.
He finally reached the great doors, he made to push them open, but he stopped. Reaching out a shaking hand, he made to knock twice on the doors, seeking permission to enter. Before his hand even hit the door, it swung open. Hogwarts had let him in.
He stepped over the threshold and swallowed back a wave of memories. With halting footsteps, he made his way to the teachers' lounge. Somehow, he knew that they had ended up there.
He stopped outside of the lounge and heard voices from inside. He knocked on the door again.
The voices quieted. The next second, the door opened a crack and he saw Lupin's eyes appear. Instantly the door was open. "Harry!"
"What is he doing here?" cried McGonagall, running to the door. "All the students-" She stopped when she saw Harry. "What?"
"Hello, Professor," Harry said respectively.
"Who is this?" McGonagall asked Lupin.
"This is Harry," Lupin said. "Harry Potter."
"I can see that," McGonagall said. "But he's not the same person!"
"I'm from the future," Harry said quickly. "I was transported here on accident when I chased down Death Eaters in my time and I got caught up in what was happening. I'm the one who took down the Death Eater's shield."
"That was you?" McGonagall asked, impressed. "That was very impressive magic, Potter."
"Thank you," Harry said. The words felt unfamiliar to him.
Lupin looked at Harry. "Why don't you come in?"
Harry walked into the room. It was practically empty. Sirius was there, nursing a head wound, McGonagall and Lupin, Sinistra, and Flitwick.
They looked at Harry with widened eyes.
"Where is everyone else?" Harry asked Lupin.
Lupin's eyes clouded. "We're it."
"What?" Harry asked sharply. "This is everyone?"
"This is everyone," Lupin said hollowly. "And something tells me the fighting has only just begun."
"It's wrong," Harry said quietly.
The room went very quiet. Everyone had stopped moving.
"What do you mean?" Sirius asked.
"Harry is currently lying unconscious in the forest of Little Hangington. Voldemort is dead at his feet."
Uproar sounded at this.
Sirius jumped to his feet. "Is he okay? What's wrong with him?"
"He's been through a lot," Harry said. "Hermione's there."
"Hermione?" McGonagall said faintly. "Why in heaven's name is she there?"
"Voldemort kidnapped her and used her to lure Harry out of the castle."
"But Harry got out with the others," Flitwick squeaked. "All the students left."
"They didn't," Lupin said. "I saw them. I thought little Harry was this Harry and then I saw Ron and I panicked because I knew he was a student and grabbed him to portkey him out. Only then did I realize that it this Harry wasn't who I thought he was."
"Where is he exactly?" Sirius asked, grabbing his wand. "I'll go get them. I'll bring him here."
"What can we do?" Sinistra asked. "I mean, Madam Pomfrey."
"I'll get Fawkes," Harry said. "I'm probably the only one who can get into the headmaster's office."
Lupin nodded and motioned for Sirius to go. "Be careful," he warned. "They don't know you're back."
Sirius nodded and left the room.
Harry waved his wand and materialized in the headmaster's office. The portraits were all actually sleeping this time. Phineas awoke when he heard Harry.
"Did we win?"
A few of the other portraits opened their eyes groggily and reached over to wake their neighbors up. Before Harry could say anything, every one of them had awoken completely and looking at him expectantly. Even Fawkes opened a bleary eye.
"Did we win?" Phineas repeated. "Come now, you're keeping us waiting!"
"We won," Harry said.
The portraits looked at each other in delight.
"That means you can make Dumbledore's portrait now!" said a witch excitedly.
"Yes! Make the portrait!" said a wizard happily.
"The portrait!"
Harry looked at the witches and wizards in confusion. "Why is this portrait so important?"
"Because," Phineas said, obviously annoyed at Harry's ignorance. "Until the portrait is made and the portrait maker unlocks the door, a new headmaster can't enter the room!"
"That doesn't make any sense," Harry said. "How would the portrait maker enter the room in the first place?"
"They always find a way," said a witch. "They want to say good-bye in peace."
Harry looked around the room. Fawkes let out a chirp and blinked at Harry with those almost human-like eyes. Harry hesitated. Sirius wouldn't be back for awhile now. He probably had time.
He nodded. "I'll do it. I have to warn you, though. I'm not much of a painter."
"You don't need to be," said a witch. "There are some empty frames in there." She pointed to a door. "Grab one and I'll tell you what to do."
Harry opened the door. Inside laid a single picture frame. He looked at the pictures on the wall. "There's only one left."
"There's always only one left," said a wizard.
"Just take that one," said the witch. Harry grabbed the frame and closed the door behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that the door had vanished.
"Never to return until the next headmaster goes," said a wizard, looking at the empty wall.
Harry placed the frame on the desk. "Now what?"
"Place your hand other than your wand hand on the frame," instructed the witch. Harry placed his left hand on the frame.
"Now all you have to do is remember everything you can about Albus Dumbledore. What he told you, his opinions, everything. Appearance really doesn't matter that much."
Harry looked at the witch in some confusion, but she was nodding at him, encouraging him to continue. Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
He focused his memory on everything Dumbledore had ever told him.
"Why haven't you figured it out yet?" Dumbledore asked, his face expressionless.
"Figured what out?" Harry asked.
"That you being here is not an accident. You have the ability to change the past if you wish to do so."
"What would I change?" Harry asked shortly. "When the final battle comes, it will not be I who stands there. It will be the Harry you know. And without the events that occur here, he would not have the ability to do what he did."
"Is that so?" Dumbledore asked, searching his robes for something. "Then perhaps you have once again underestimated yourself."
"I don't need this from you," Harry said shortly. "I have my own life now, and I'm going to get back."
"Back to what?" Dumbledore said, pausing in his search to look at Harry with those piercing blue eyes. "From what I can tell, you have nothing left."
"I have everything I need!" Harry said coldly. "And that's more than I ever had here!"
"Ah, you know that to be untrue," Dumbledore said.
"What are you talking about? I have nothing here. Everything I thought I had will be gone within the month; at the end of this year, I'm going to be left on the ground, forgotten, for three days, drifting in and out of consciousness until I am found by Muggles. Don't say I have everything I need."
A flicker of emotion flashed over Dumbledore's face when he heard this. Harry scowled but did not look away. "I'm not asking for your pity. I've gotten over it. That should be good enough for you."
"I might have been," Dumbledore said softly. "Had I not known this to be a lie."
"You know nothing," Harry said shortly. "You don't have any idea about what is to come."
"I know that is has forced you to push away your very humanity," Dumbledore said quietly, surveying Harry over his half moon spectacles. "I can therefore assume that you lost everything you held dear to you. This is war, Harry, but even in war, such a thing should not happen."
"But it did. It will happen. It has happened; it's too late to stop it. Everyone 'that I hold dear' is dead. I killed them." He hadn't meant to say the last line. It had sort of slipped out. Dumbledore seemed to realize this.
"You did not kill them," Dumbledore said fiercely. "Voldemort did."
"And I suppose that by holding my wand to their heart and yelling, 'Avada Kedavra' doesn't mean I killed them," Harry said coldly. "You don't have any idea what you're talking about."
"But I know you," Dumbledore said. He hadn't even flinched at Harry's last line. "And I know that you would never do such a thing."
"You don't know me. You never will."
"But I do know the you that belongs in this time, and it's that Harry; that less capable Harry, if you please, that must suffer through it all. I know him. I know that he always follows his heart."
"And just look at all the people I've killed already," Harry said with a smirk that took some effort to place on his face. "I suppose Cedric is dead. Sirius is too. The Weasley family should come next. I'm surprised they haven't already. Oh, and let me guess, Hermione's parents died this summer in an attack. I saw the whole thing."
"You're simply telling me your past," Dumbledore said, but Harry could tell he had mentally stored the information about the Weasleys. "It is your future for which I am concerned."
"Don't be," Harry said. "It's not as if you have any say in it."
"I will never turn my back on you, Harry," Dumbledore said. "You know that."
The memories went further back.
"I cared about you too much," said Dumbledore simply. "I cared more for your happiness than your knowing the truth, more for your peace of mind than my plan, more for your life than the lives that might be lost if the plan failed. In other words, I acted exactly how Voldemort expects we fools who love to act."
"Is there a defense? I defy anyone who has watched you as I have-and I have watched you more closely than you can have imagined-not to want to save you more pain than you have already suffered. What did I care if numbers of nameless and faceless people and creatures were slaughtered in the vague future, if in the here and now you were alive, well, and happy? I never dreamed I would have such a person on my hands."
Harry remembered everything and felt his throat getting tight. It was hard to think that he would never speak to Dumbledore again. He hadn't bothered about it last time. It's not that he didn't care. He had cared so much that he wanted the pain to end. So he had pushed it away.
He opened his eyes. He looked down at the painting and saw Dumbledore's face looking up at him, blinking. The whole room seemed to be holding its breath.
"Unless the one person Dumbledore cared for most makes the portrait, the portrait will be incomplete. It will be just like the portraits outside this room. They had no memory when they were painted."
Dumbledore's portrait looked up at Harry. Then he looked around. "It would seem that I'm a portrait." He said.
"Er.Professor?" Harry asked uncertainly.
"Yes, Harry?" asked Dumbledore.
"Do you remember everything?"
"I do," Dumbledore said. "I suppose I'm dead now, am I? Tell me, where do I get to hang?"
The portraits on the wall burst into applause. Dumbledore looked around. "Hello, everyone."
"Put him here!" said Dippit, gesturing to the empty place beside him. Harry lifted Dumbledore's portrait off the desk and placed it in the empty spot the other portraits gestured.
Dumbledore looked a little shaken after the ride. "Right, well I suppose I shall have to get used to being a portrait, shall I?"
"It's not as bad as you think," said Phineas dismissively. "I say, who should be the new headmaster?"
"That is not longer my concern," Dumbledore said comfortably settling himself down into his chair. "I think maybe I should get some sleep."
Harry grinned. It was good to see Dumbledore again. Fawkes let out a trill. Harry jumped. "I have to go! Harry's just defeated Voldemort. Sirius went to get him."
"Sirius? Indeed. Well, I shall have the new headmaster explain it to me," Dumbledore said, opening one eye.
Harry grinned. Then his grin faltered. "You know I'll have to go back when this is all through."
"I believe in you," Dumbledore said.
"But what if I'm not ready to go back?" Harry asked.
"Was Harry ready to fight Voldemort?" Dumbledore countered.
Harry nodded in understanding, Dumbledore's words bringing comfort. With a wave of his hand, he appeared back in the teachers' lounge. Fawkes burst into flame above his head.
"Is Sirius back yet?"
Lupin shook his head. "You've been gone for a while."
"I'm here now," Harry said. "And tonight I'm leaving."
Lupin nodded in understanding.
"I have a question," Harry said. "Who is it that killed Snape?"
"No idea," Lupin said. "Why?"
"He's alive in my time, that's all," Harry said. His eyes wandered to the window where the bloody battlefield shone below. A person Apparated at the gate, carrying something heavy in their arms.
"Sirius is back," Harry said as a girl appeared at his side, looking worried, as ever to have broken the law of Apparition.
"Hermione's with him. They have Harry."
"I had better go see to the hospital wing," Lupin said. "Perhaps you could send Fawkes along. He has never seemed to listen to me."
Harry nodded as the intelligent bird looked at him questioningly. Fawkes took flight with a widening of his large wings.
They left Harry alone to watch from his lofty perch as Sirius half ran towards the castle. He supposed Harry must be very light to be able to run at all. Hermione had to slow down for him, urging him forward.
Harry looked away. He remembered vividly those three terrible days as he waited, without hope, for someone to find him. The pain had been unimaginable. And not just physically. He had lain next to the body of his best friend.and the person who killed her.
Harry didn't notice it then, but he would look back on it in the years to come as the final moments in which he had fully recovered from his shattered life. He had finally admitted to himself that Voldemort had murdered Hermione. Hermione would have forgiven him years ago for not having the strength left to fight, but it was not Hermione's forgiveness that had been the final moment; it was him, forgiving himself.
He shook his head as he tried to push the pain away. He'd done that enough in one life time and it hadn't worked then. It certainly would not now.
Sirius and Hermione left Harry's and he turned from the window. So there he was. It was one of those lost moments in which he saw where he was and wondered how he'd gotten there. He put his hands in his pockets.
His hand touched a small box. Curiously, Harry pulled it out. The box of Avenir Potion. His ticket home.
Once again Harry hesitated. How could he possibly be forgiven after what he'd done?
"Harry."
Harry turned. McGonagall stood in the doorway.
"Hello, Professor."
McGonagall smiled. "Professor? It's odd to think that I should have ever really taught at this school. It seems like a lifetime ago."
"You have no idea," Harry said, thinking about something completely different.
"After all the wars this school has seen, I would hardly think that one more should make a difference."
"Sometimes only one thing can make a bigger difference than you might think," Harry pointed out.
"Now that I believe entirely," McGonagall said, looking at Harry pointedly. Harry looked away and out the window again, still fingering the small box in silent contemplation.
"You would never have expected," McGonagall continued. "For that little baby we placed on the doorstep that night to have accomplished the things you have done."
"It wasn't my choice, I assure you," Harry said fervently, his gaze drifting toward the Quidditch field.
"But it was," McGonagall said. "I thought we had taught you something here."
"Like what?" Harry asked without thinking.
"Harry!" McGonagall said grinning.
Harry amended quickly. "I mean, that is related to this topic of conversation."
"I know," McGonagall said, still smiling. "Dumbledore used to preach unrelentingly that one makes their own decisions. He said that every single thing that happens to a person is a consequence of their own choices." She looked Harry right in the eye. "And I still believe him to this very day. I think that everything you have gone through, you chose to go through, not for your own personal comfort, but for the overall good. See, that's the difference between you and a lot of other people, Harry. You have the ability to see beyond everything you know and believe. You can look at the bigger picture, while others struggle with their own."
"Thanks, I think," Harry said grinning.
"See now, you're not horrible and mean," McGonagall said. "Remus had some crazy idea about you being moody and irritable."
"Yeah?" Harry asked. He looked back at the pitch again. "He was right in a way."
"Really?" McGonagall asked.
"Yeah, but I'm over it now," Harry said. "I'm just not ready to go back home."
"I can't possibly imagine what it is that could push you that far over the edge," McGonagall said, looking at Harry questioningly.
"It's better not thought about," Harry said quietly. He could feel himself shrinking away, closing up, and pushed hard against that all too familiar feeling.
McGonagall obviously felt it better not to pursue the subject. "It's going to take a lot of work to get Hogwarts back to her old self."
Harry seizes gratefully at the topic. "She'll be back in no time."
"I suppose she had a fight or two left in her," McGonagall said, not looking at Harry but across the bloody grounds.
"I suppose she did."
There was silence for a moment.
The door opened.
"Harry!" Sirius popped his head in. "It's Harry-the other one. He's not in too good of shape."
"How good is 'not too good'?" McGonagall asked.
When Sirius didn't answer at once, Harry was instantly alert. "Is he in the hospital wing?"
Sirius nodded.
The next second, Harry vanished.
He appeared in the hospital wing. Looking around, he saw that Hermione lay asleep in another bed. He supposed someone must have knocked her out to keep her from hovering.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked.
"He's got some deep cuts," Remus said, not looking up from his inspection of the boy on the bed. "He's broken a few bones-nothing an experienced healer couldn't handle. I sent Sirius to get one."
"Sirius came straight to me," Harry said, not realizing the significance.
Remus looked up. "Looks like he's got some confidence in you. Any expertise in the medical field?"
"I healed myself of a bullet wound only a few hours ago.or maybe it just seemed like a few hours."
"Can you heal someone else?" Remus asked.
"I thought I had Fawkes for that."
There was a soft trill and Fawkes materialized in front of Harry.
"Fawkes won't come unless he's called," Remus said, looking at Harry with a significant look that Harry almost missed. He wasn't quite as perceptive as he used to be, or else he had simply found more important things to do, rather than be constantly suspicious. He shook his head and watched as Fawkes landed on the bedpost and looked questioningly at Harry with his intelligent eyes.
"He just finished his fight with Voldemort," Harry explained. "Voldemort almost made him kill his best friend." Harry tried hard to keep the regret out of his voice but he wasn't doing very well.
"I didn't know this," Remus said, looking questioningly at Harry. "What happened?"
"Imperious curse," Harry said. "At the end of the battle. He almost succeeded in making Harry kill Hermione. He would have too, if he hadn't broken through at the last moment."
Harry pushed back the memories that always seemed to resurface at the thought of Hermione. He couldn't go soft, not now. Not when he was needed so badly here.
"You saw it all, did you?" Remus asked. "And would you have intervened had he not been able to throw it off?"
"I did," Harry said quietly.
Remus looked at him sharply. "Do you mean."
"You wondered," Harry said coldly. He could feel himself slipping as everything he had worked for seemed to have become less than before. Remus seemed to sense it too.
"Do you really have no one left in your time?"
Harry struggled to bring himself back out of the whole he had just begun to dig. The thought of Ron offered him some strength. "No," Harry said. "I do have someone. I just don't think he can ever think of me the same way again."
Remus looked at him a moment, and then it seemed to dawn on him. "Ron."
Harry nodded. "He has a Halloween get-together every year. It's his favorite holiday. I've never been, but he always sends an invitation."
"It seems to me that he's never stopped looking at you the same way," Remus said. "It sounds to me like it's you that can't look at yourself the same way."
Harry looked up and saw out of the corner of his eye, that Fawkes was crying.
* * *
"All the time in the world shall be mine! Let me pass through the barriers of the mortal realm and walk once again upon soil that is my own! The skies shall not tremble and the earth beneath my very feet will be the earth that belongs there! Let me return to the present and let time be healed!"
The portal burst into being in front of him. The pressure he had expected did not come and, somehow, he knew that this time the portal would let him through.
He looked back and saw Remus looking back at him. He nodded once and Harry turned back to the portal.
"Laisser entrer!" Harry chanted. He took another step forward.
The pressure of the portal no longer held him back. He held himself back and he knew it.
He did not look back at Remus again, for he knew that if he did, he would not be able to do what he knew he had to do.
I think that everything you have gone through, you chose to go through, not for your own personal comfort, but for the overall good.
Harry took another step in front of the portal and found himself much too close. He wasn't ready to go yet. He wasn't ready.
Was Harry ready to fight Voldemort?
Phoenix song trilled in his ears. He didn't know where it was coming from, but it gave him strength, and he was grateful.
He the front of the portal loomed in front of him now and he took a step forward. He could feel the strands of time give way, only for a moment, so that he may pass. He looked back to see his godfather and his former professor for the last time, but they were gone. All that was before him now was the swirling mass that was time.
______________________________________________________
A/N: There it is. My wonderful story. The epilogue is coming, I remind you again.
Gilthas: They know!
Me: I know! I just wanted to mention it before we got any further...
gual1: Up and ready to read. Or already have been read...whichever.
Darkmoon Fleur: Both saved-happy and healthy. Well, less healthy in Harry's case, but he's okay, right? More in the epilogue!
Authoress: One question. How long did it take you to write all that?
A-man: Gees. There's one review I'm not going to copy off and hang on my refrigerator...
potter-man1: 'The first', huh? I have a friend who's a 'Jr.' I just managed to get way off topic...
Nasser Himura: *is horrified* Kill future Harry off? I wouldn't dream of it!
Meggles: Thanks! *grins widely*
Allizarin Sylvain Phyre: 'Allizarin Sylvain Phyre' it is. Do you have any idea how hard that is to spell? :)
Vampire Story Hunter: Done and done.
Liz: You didn't review! You should be flogged! Okay, press that little blue button. Press it! Come on! You can do it! I have faith in your button pressing abilities.
Gilthas: Thank you for all the reviews!
Me: I usually say that.
Gilthas: I just beat you to it.
Me: Crap. Oh well, thank you for all the reviews and please to review again!!! I like them! They make me happy.
Gilthas: And me.
Me: And if they make my muse happy, then they really are happiness bringers.
Gilthas: *wistfully* I wish the rest of the world went by those rules...
Me: *grins*