Acknowledgments: Rpeh on the beta work.
Chapter 25
Harry stepped back into the Hogwarts grounds and looked around the dark night. He felt oddly alone as he stepped toward the Quidditch pitch. No one was around. He sighed, deactivating the warming charm he barely remembered casting as the spring night was much warmer than the Halloween he'd just left, and started making his way back to the castle.
He closed his eyes as he walked and focused. But nothing came. There was nothing there. The surprise of it shocked him. He opened them again to make sure he was where he thought he was. Everything still felt right, like he was where he was supposed to be. The only difference was the loneliness that seemed to creep to him.
He closed his eyes again and tried once more to focus on her. But again, he felt nothing as he looked around.
"Harry?" a voice interrupted his thoughts and brought his eyes back open. "There you are!"
"Hey Hermione," he said, trying his best to not sound disappointed.
"Where did you get off to? It's been hours," she said.
"Just a walk," he responded, looking around as if he was missing something. His heart seemed to be beating faster than it should. He took a few deep breaths to try to calm down. He closed his eyes to do the same before he realized that he couldn't sense her again and it started anew. He threw himself down on a stone bench nearby.
"You okay?" Hermione asked as she walked to the bench and sat next to him, she leaned forward and looked at him, her eyes wide. She moved her hand toward his forehead but he recoiled from her touch.
"Fine," he said. She withdrew her hand and looked away from him.
"Okay," she sniffed.
"Sorry," he said. He took another deep breath and started to feel closer to normal. He looked around. "You didn't see Circe anywhere, did you?"
"What?" Hermione asked.
"My companion," he asked. "Have you seen her out here?"
"No I didn't," Hermione said with a hint of uncertainty in her voice. She looked around the darkness of the grounds.
"Great," Harry sighed.
"What's bothering you?" she asked.
"Nothing," Harry said.
"Harry. It may have been three years since we've spoken. But I know you far better than that. Now, what's bothering you?" she asked forcefully.
"Really?" Harry turned to look at her, his brows raised.
"Really," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. Harry stared at her for a few moments.
"I think I did something incredibly stupid that I'm going to regret for a very long time," Harry said.
"Want to talk about it?" Hermione asked.
"Not really," Harry said.
"Harry," Hermione sighed.
"It would take me about four days to even explain how," Harry said.
"I know this may shock you, Harry, but I'm very clever and tend to pick things up quickly," Hermione said.
"Have you ever heard of Ulysses' Portals?" Harry asked.
"Sure," Hermione said. "They're a theoretical temporal spell. The legend is that Calypso offered them to Odysseus as a route home and he refused them. But, well, aside from some Roman wizards who attempted it and were supposedly lost to time centuries ago, no one has ever managed to successfully cast it."
"Huh," Harry chuckled.
"What?" Hermione asked.
"Here I thought I'd actually stump you," he said with a smile.
"I researched all forms of temporal magic when I was given a time-turner. It seemed best to understand everything before I started messing with it. But it was one that the books I read dismissed as a theory and not an actual possibility," Hermione said.
"Well, it's possible but I highly doubt it was Calypso that offered them to Odysseus," Harry said, finding himself rather annoyed that she knew more about the legend than he did.
"And anyway, there was a bit that made it sound like it wasn't controllable. That it would get you where you needed to go eventually, but that there would be a lot in between," Hermione said.
"That's one way of putting it," Harry said.
"And another person theorized that once the chain started, the portals would take you. You could only resist their presence for so long before it pulls in whomever it wants. Wait a second…" Hermione said.
"When you found me I'd returned from what I suspect was the last portal," Harry said. "At first I thought the one that dropped us off in Inverness was the final one. And I guess it was in a sense of getting me back home. But there was one more thing it wanted me to do."
"What was that?" Hermione asked.
"It doesn't matter," Harry said. "I don't think that it was so much about what I would see as if I would act on its appearance. I had two choices and I didn't resist one as hard as I should have. And now…well...now I'm here."
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Hermione said.
"Well, it's a thing," Harry said.
"Are you staying?" she asked.
"For now," he said. "I have nowhere else to go."
"Oh Harry," Hermione frowned as she looked at him.
"Come on," he said. "It's late. Let's get back to the castle and you can tell me all about the classes I missed."
"You know I am capable of talking about things other than school," she said.
"Well if there's time we can get to that, too," Harry said.
"I've missed you," Hermione laughed.
"You too," Harry said. "Now how much trouble are you going to get if we're caught after lights out?"
"None. I'm Head Girl and you're an adult that isn't currently enrolled in the institution," Hermione said.
"Take the fun out of it," Harry said.
She walked him back to his guest room. Well, eventually they made it back to his guest room. He followed her on her rounds and they talked. She filled him in on everything. It was far easier talking to her than anyone else who'd tried to speak to him at the feast. She left him at the door to the room. He hesitated outside before he entered.
He'd hoped she'd be waiting for him. But she wasn't. There wasn't any sign of her. He stared at the bed for a few minutes before just collapsing onto it.
The morning came too quickly. He had no intention of getting out of bed when he woke. But when he rolled over and there was no one else there he found his interest in staying there evaporated quickly.
He wandered the castle, weaving in and out of students and finding it oddly easy to become invisible again. It quickly just became going through the motions, though. His chat with Dumbledore lasted most of a day. Harry didn't tell him anything but the barest of details and Dumbledore pressed far less than he would have expected. The Headmaster did encourage him to stop into a class or two if he felt so inclined.
On the third day he found himself up far too late with Ron, Neville, Dean and Seamus in his old dormitory. They played exploding snap and spent the night rating each of the girls in their year. It was a hopeless endeavor for him. But he played along.
But everything about his old bed felt wrong in the morning. He left it quickly, hours before anyone else would emerge. Hermione was already at breakfast. He sat next to her and ate. She did far more to convince him that he should try a class than Dumbledore did. But he wished she'd have at least told him that it was potions.
Snape drawled on as miserably as ever as he sat down. He made some sort of snide remark about Harry's presence and obvious lack of skill in potions when Harry entered. But Harry ignored it. Or at least wasn't focused enough on it to care. He sat next to Hermione and noticed that the seventh year potions class appeared to have about four students in it.
The Head Girl scribbled notes as Snape talked. Harry noticed each desk had two peaches on it and peered around Snape at the recipe on the board behind him. He chuckled softly, which earned him a glare from the Potion's master. But didn't warrant further comment. He summoned two peaches from the kitchens and started slicing one with one of Hermione's knives. This too earned him a glare, but nothing warranting further comment.
Harry tossed his peach pits into an open cauldron as soon as Snape finished talking and started on the potion. He remembered thinking it was more complicated than anything Snape had taught. And he hadn't been wrong, Snape was just saving it for the end of the seventh year.
Hermione tried to help him at first, especially when she noticed he wasn't exactly sticking to Snape's instructions as he lazily ate slices of peach. But she quickly fell behind on her own work and soon stopped looking over at his. He debated offering her help, but she seemed too flustered to be willing to take it, so he merely continued brewing. Snape watched him far too intently for his tastes.
The potion's master kept trying to meet his eyes while he worked. Harry wouldn't let him. He could feel Snape's magic needling at his mind and thought it was rather annoying, and, honestly, inappropriate. But he didn't feel the need to comment as he leisurely worked his way through the potion.
Harry finished with the potion well before anyone else. He bottled some of it and walked it up to Professor Snape, tossing it unceremoniously down on his desk and peering back once at the frazzled looking students. None of them, judging from the cauldrons, were even to the halfway point on the potion.
Snape opened his mouth to say something but his eyes flashed down to the vial of potion before him. He picked it up as his brow furrowed and stared at it, shifting it left and right in his fingers to watch the liquid inside roll back and forth. Snape opened his mouth but Harry shook his head and gave the man what he'd wanted. He met his gaze.
Snape's eyes widened in horror as Harry saw him. He saw images of an abused child and a bullied boy. He felt how small the man felt and how miserable he'd been. He saw how behind it all, Snape was still stuck in those same spots.
But Harry didn't care. He pulled himself away from Snape. The man sat frozen at his desk, blinking against whatever he'd seen in Harry's eyes. He very briefly turned his gaze toward the potion and Harry found himself wondering just what he thought. He didn't care what he did with the rest of the potion.
Somehow, he doubted Snape would even admit that Harry was the one responsible for it. But it didn't matter. It was one of the first things that she'd had him brew, one of the easier potions he'd made for her. One of the easier lessons he'd had with either Circe or Seth. And one of the final lessons at Hogwarts. He walked from the dungeons feeling even emptier than when he'd entered them.
He'd thought that as soon as he'd been back at Hogwarts his place would become clear, that he'd be able to fully understand what he was supposed to do, that everything would make sense. But now, as he walked through the castle halls, students bustling around him, portraits yelling for his attention, staircases doing their best to annoy him, it occurred to him that he felt every bit as alone here as when he'd arrived at Helios's palace.
And worse, this time he'd gotten rid of the Nymph before she could make him feel at home.
He walked outside and spent the rest of the day just walking around the grounds. He stopped at Hagrid's hut and watched the man teach creatures to a group of fourth year Ravenclaw and Hufflepuffs before he stopped in for a rock cake and a cup of tea. Talking with Hagrid was easy. The half-giant didn't expect anything from him. No answers were necessary. Just a few words and a hope that they'd speak again. But it didn't bring any solace to Harry as he left the hut.
He saw people flying around the quidditch pitch and figured classes must be done for the day. He walked to the stands and perched on one end as Hufflepuff and Slytherin scrimmaged. Draco Malfoy had traded the Head Boy badge for the team Captain one on his quidditch robes. But he seemed to be doing his best to train up a replacement. Harry moved to the Hufflepuff end of the pitch and sat there. He watched the sport without really seeing the specific plays, letting himself get lost in the frenetic action of it all.
Eventually he noticed that no one was flying around any longer and he climbed down from the stands. There wasn't anyone milling around so he wandered into the castle.
He found himself walking through the hall, but he didn't return to his guest room. Instead he weaved down a different hallway, an all too familiar hallway. He chuckled to himself and opened the door to the room he'd spent over half of a year in.
He was mildly disappointed to find it contained discarded old books and some other assorted rubbish. But, he figured, a few hundred years would do that. He closed the door and continued to walk around the castle.
His wanderings were interrupted a few flights of stairs later by an almost familiar voice calling out behind him.
"Harry Potter!" a woman scolded. Harry blinked, trying to figure out exactly what he remembered that voice from. He spun around and noticed no one was behind him, well, unless you counted the portraits.
One of them was a grumpy looking old man working on taming a horse. He saw nothing of note in it but thought it had to be some other form of purgatory. The other, well, the oher gave him pause.
"Hello Phyllida," he said, staring at the painting of a woman in her late twenties standing in a garden with Hogwarts in the background.
"You abandoned me," she scoffed.
"Sorry," he said. "Does it help if I tell you I didn't have a choice?"
"No," she said, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at him.
"I didn't think so," Harry said. "I am sorry about that, you know."
"I'm sure," she said, dismissively.
"When did you figure it out?" Harry asked.
"Your second year with the Chamber. I'd have thought that obvious. I wanted to scold you then," she said.
"Sorry you had to wait," Harry responded. "Did you tell Dumbedore where to look?"
"Of course. He didn't find anything in the forest. Six hundred years covered our tracks quite well."
"Ah," Harry said, not sure why he'd expected otherwise.
"Where's your wife?" she asked.
"I'm not married," Harry responded, holding up both of his ringless hands.
"And Emily is okay with that?" Phyllida asked.
"Well, she ran away from me, so I'd say yes? Also her real name is Circe," Harry said.
"Circe? Wait. The Circe?"
"Yes."
"I should have spent way more time talking to her about plants," Phyllida frowned at him.
"Probably," Harry agreed.
"Another reason to be annoyed at you. I named a plant after you, you know," Phyllida said.
"I did not know that," Harry said.
"Harinium," Phyllida answered. "It has gorgeous green petals and a black stem. But it vanishes completely about an hour after it's plucked."
"I deserved that," Harry said but he couldn't help himself, he smiled.
"It might be extinct now. Which is a shame. The petals had a wonderful numbing effect if worked into pain potions almost immediately," Phyllida said.
"I'd have liked to see it," Harry admitted. "You know, I loved my time at your Hogwarts."
"I know you did," she said with a sad smile. "I could tell you were happy. It was part of what made you so attractive."
"Really?" he asked.
"Of course. Happiness, self-assured confidence, competence, all three things can be quite appealing," she explained.
"I wasn't even trying," Harry said.
"Which only helped your cause. But now you have to tell me everything."
"What?"
"Oh come on. You were so reticent. So aloof. But now I know who you were. And I want to know everything that happened to you." Phyllida said. Harry paused for a moment as he thought about it. There seemed to be no real reason not to tell her. There was no lingering pull that he needed to be secretive or anything.
"It's a long story," he said.
"I have a portrait in the fourth sitting room. Go there so we're not bothered," Phyllida ordered.
"Fine, I'll meet you there," he said, smiling at the absurdity of it all.
"Oh and I'll forgive you for being a Gryffindor just this once," she teased him as he left the hallway and moved toward the sitting rooms.
It did take him most of the night to tell the whole sordid story to her. She seemed rather amused by the entire thing, more so about the mythical bits than anything else. So much so that Harry suspected he did her a great disservice by not being honest about Circe's identity. But that wasn't his secret to share. And the two of them seemed to hit it off anyway without his help.
He spoke with Phyllida until her portrait started to doze off. He spent a few moments wondering if he was merely boring or if there was something more behind the magic of enchanted portraits. Either way, he wished her a good night, drawing a mumbled response, before he set off to the guest room.
He intentionally slept through breakfast and didn't bother to leave the room until after he knew the students would be in class. He wandered toward the kitchens to eat, which ended up with him spending far too much time with Dobby as the elf seemed absolutely thrilled to see him.
That took most of the afternoon. After that he found himself feeling pretty much worthless. So he changed his clothing into something more suitable for a workout and decided to jog around the lake.
A few students were milling around outside as he ran. Their groups grew as he turned in the laps. He wasn't sure how many times he circled the lake, but he did notice groups of girls milling on the benches he passed, their gazes watching him as he passed.
It wasn't until Hermione stepped into his path that he bothered stopping. He spent a moment catching his breath as she approached. He pulled the damp shirt over his head and transfigured it into a towel. He opened his mouth to say something but Hermione held up a hand to silence him as she stared at him.
She shook her head, pausing for a moment before she reached out and poked him, once, him on the abs. Then again. She raised her brows and did something he wasn't sure he'd ever heard Hermione do. She cursed.
"Bloody hell Harry," she said. "How did you do that?"
"Lots of exercise," Harry responded, draping the towel over his shoulders. He noticed a few of the girls on the benches were sharing.
"Wow," Hermione said, openly objectifying him.
"Your assets aren't bad either, you know," he responded, dryly.
"Harry!" she hit him on the arm. It wasn't hard enough to hurt.
"That's me," he said jovially. "Did you need something or?"
"I can't just want to talk to my friend?"
"Well, sure you can, but then you'd have waited for me rather than walking out here," Harry said.
"I was hoping you'd agree to something," Hermione asked. She paused and when Harry didn't respond she continued. "Mostly to annoy Draco."
"Done," Harry said, smiling.
"You don't even know what it is," Hermione countered.
"Doesn't matter," Harry said. And in truth it didn't, although not for the reasons implied. He knew he'd do whatever he could to help Hermione regardless as she was one of his best friends. Annoying Draco didn't really play into it. Although it was a perk.
Still, he realized he wouldn't have to wait very long to find out what it was when he looked toward the castle and saw Draco storming out from the building. Harry took a moment to zap himself into new clothing and finished just in time for Draco to shout at him.
"You just want to take away from Slytherin's victory!" he yelled.
"I told you, it's nothing to do with that," Hermione sighed in a practiced annoyance. Her words felt rehearsed, and, well, Harry knew her well enough to assume they were. "I just think it would be nice if we mentioned it. And Dumbledore won't do so unless we agree."
"Well that's settled then, he won't do it," Draco said.
"Come on Malfoy," Hermione scolded. "Five minutes of it not being entirely about you isn't going to kill you."
"It might," Harry cut in. "You never know."
"Fuck off, Potter," Draco said with more vitroil than Harry thought he could muster toward someone he hadn't seen in three years.
"Language!" Hermione scolded. "You're Head Boy!"
"Oh stuff it, Granger. I'm looking forward to never having to listen to your entitled cunt again," Draco said.
"Well that's rude," Harry retorted. "I'd have thought your breeding was better than that."
"I liked you better when you were gone," Draco retorted.
"Me too," Harry agreed. Draco stared at him for a moment as if trying to decipher his response before he turned his gaze back to Hermione.
"I'm not doing it," he said. They'd walked back toward the castle and were standing outside the entryway. Some other students started milling around as if sensing their argument.
"Sure you will," Harry said. "It'll be easier for everyone involved and it'll make you look like the bigger man who's willing to cede the spotlight. Now apologize to Hermione and agree with her so I can go get dinner."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you," Draco sneered.
"Well I've been running for over an hour so yeah, food would be good," Harry commented. Again Draco looked at him as if he'd missed his point.
"How about you prove to me you deserve it," Draco said. Harry raised his brows at him.
"Malfoy," Hermione groaned.
"And how do you suggest I do that?" Harry asked, keeping his tone even and icy.
"Duel me," Draco said. Harry burst out laughing. It hadn't been the response Draco had expected but he couldn't help it. Draco glared daggers at him until he finished.
"Cute," Harry said.
"Chicken?" Draco asked. Harry raised his brows at him, the mirth melting from his face in an instant..
"It will not end how you think it will," Harry said evenly.
"That sounds a lot like yes," Draco said. Harry frowned. He knew he should ignore Draco. But, well, he was in a bad mood and how much would it hurt to blow off a little steam?
"Fine," Harry said. "If you want to ruin your reputation, I won't stop you." Again, it didn't seem to be the response Draco expected. For a moment his eyes flashed with concern, but blustery bravado rose back a moment later as Harry shifted away from Hermione.
"You don't have to do this, Harry," Hermione said, looking almost frightened for him. Harry raised his brows and gave her a look.
"What's the worst that can happen," he joked. "They expel me?" She blinked at him, narrowing her eyes and frowning. He took it as assent and positioned himself between Draco and the castle. Draco drew his wand and leveled it on him before pausing.
"Aren't you going to draw your wand?" he sneered. Harry shrugged his shoulders but did so, holding it lazily in his left hand. Draco waited as the spectators ringed around them, obviously enjoying the spectacle of it.
Then, with a wholly unnecessary flourish, doubtless done for the crowd as he hadn't done so when Harry watched the end of his duel with Ernie, he pulled his wand back and thrust it forward, shooting a rather dark cutting hex at Harry. Harry watched his smirk grow as he didn't move to defend himself. And then watched it vanish as the spell disappeared about an inch before it hit Harry.
To Draco's credit, he hadn't expected one spell to do the trick, so he'd already launched a bludgeoner and was in the middle of another cutting hex before he realized how futile they were.
Harry ignored the other spells and raised his right hand. He snapped his palm up while looking at Draco and his opponent froze in place, his eyes going wide with fear. Harry flicked his hand to the side, as if brushing away a fly, and Draco's wand flew off into the crowd of spectators. Then he pushed his hand forward an inch and Draco flew backwards, hitting the wall of the castle with a loud thunk.
There were a few gasps from the crowd. To his credit, he hadn't thrown Draco with enough force to seriously injure him, and he'd even cushioned his landing some. And Draco knew it, his eyes flashing with fury as he looked around for his wand.
Harry turned his attention back to Hermione.
"Dinner?" he asked. Hermione, like most of the rest of the crowd, stared at him, blinking slowly as they tried to comprehend what they witnessed.
"What…How?" she asked.
"Magic," Harry shrugged. "Do the elves still do ribs on Thursdays?"
"Sometimes," Hermione blinked at the question. Harry started to move toward the castle. Hermione followed him. They passed Draco as he found his wand and continued into the castle. Harry heard some giggling and taunts being thrown toward Draco but didn't bother deciphering them more directly.
"We're not done," Draco said from behind him as they entered the entrance hall. Harry spun around slowly and peered at him.
"Yes we are," he said. Hermione tugged at his arm, trying to lead him away from Draco.
"I went easy on you," Draco countered.
"So did I," Harry said. He let his power rise in him and focused it on Draco. The other man flinched away from it. "And I'm not in a great mood today, Draco, so I suggest you cut your losses and call it a day. You can't hurt me."
Draco stared at him for a few moments, his wand still in his hand. Harry turned his back to him, moving with Hermione through the hall when Draco made the mistake.
"There's always a way to hurt someone," Draco sneered. "I could just use the mudblood cunt."
Harry froze. Hermione winced away from Draco's words but kept pulling on Harry's arm, trying to get him to leave. Harry knew it was an empty threat, just Draco needling him and having to get the last word in. But he couldn't help himself. He stood his ground and shook himself from Hermione's grip as Draco continued.
"You were gone for years. Are you now going to watch over all of them? The luster is off the famous Harry Potter. I can destroy you without ever having to do anything to you," Draco said. He smirked with confidence as he said it. And, in that moment, something inside Harry broke.
He had a hard time describing it. He knew he shouldn't care. That the opinions of those around him, the rules of society or whatever should matter. But in that moment, nothing mattered except for what he was going to do to Draco, consequences be damned.
He faced Draco, his expression blank. He saw Draco's smile falter as he started to walk toward him. Behind him he heard Hermione yell. She said something about how his taunts were empty, and that Draco wasn't worth his time.
He saw Draco's expression change as he approached. Concern flashed, followed by fear. He raised his wand and fired off a pair of spells at Harry. Harry ignored them, walking right through them.
"Crucio!" Draco shouted as Harry closed the gap to a few feet. But even the Unforgivable didn't impede him in the least.
He remembered every one of Silverberry's lessons as he punched Draco as hard as he could in the stomach.
Draco gasped for air and doubled forward. He dropped his wand as his hands flew to his stomach. Harry grabbed him by the back of his head, gripping him tightly. He spun Draco around and bashed his face as hard as he could into the castle wall. He pulled Draco's head back, ignoring the bloody smear on the wall.
He heard shrieks from the students around them. He heard some of them run off, undoubtedly looking for an adult to help. He ignored it and smashed Draco's face into the wall a second time. Then a third. Then a fourth. Then a fifth.
After the fifth blow Harry let go of Draco's head. Draco crumpled but Harry grabbed him by the throat with one hand. He held him up, squeezing his air away and stared into his battered and broken face. Draco's eyes were glazed over and it was hard to tell if he was awake or not.
"If anything, and I mean anything, happens to any of my friends, Malfoy, I will kill you. I don't care if it's an accident. I don't care if you had nothing to do with it. If they are hurt at all, you die," Harry said, keeping his voice emotionless as he squeezed.
Draco, for his part, merely gurgled in response.
"Tell me you understand," Harry said. Draco gurgled more but nothing particularly coherent came out. Harry held him for a good fifteen seconds before speaking again.
"Tell me you understand or you die now," he said. He squeezed harder on Draco's windpipe as he spoke. Draco gurgled more frantically, tears welling in his eyes. A noise came out that sounded close enough to what he'd wanted to hear so he let go, letting Draco fall into a heap on the floor. Harry resisted the urge to kick him, instead he spun around.
Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall stared at him, wands drawn, as students separated around him. Harry cleaned Draco's blood from his hand and shirt with a stray thought and walked away from the broken boy. McGonagall rushed past him to help Draco while Dumbledore stared at him.
Harry ignored him and walked straight to a wide-eyed Hermione. She looked frozen, staring at him as if she didn't quite recognize him. He was going to ask her to dinner when Dumbledore spoke.
"Mister Potter," he started.
"What?" Harry interrupted him, casually, as if he had no idea what the man could possibly want to talk to him about.
"This behavior is unacceptable," Dumbledore said.
"I agree," Harry commented with as bright of a smile as he could muster. "Unforgivable curses are illegal. He should be expelled and jailed."
"The behavior I'm referring to is your conduct, not his," Dumbledore said, his expression altering at Harry's mentioning of the curses.
"Huh, really?" Harry looked to Hermione with a faux confusion on his face as if he couldn't fathom that he was in the wrong.
"First whatever you did to Professor Snape, and now attacking a student. I can't allow such behavior," Dumbledore said. Harry raised his brows and spun to face the man.
"Why not?" he asked. "You have for years."
"Excuse me?" Dumbledore said.
"Snape spent the entire lesson I decided to attend trying to use magic to break into my mind. All I did was let him. It's not my fault if he's too much of a pissant to deal with what he saw. I suspect other parents might be very interested in an adult professor probing the minds of his students, too. I'll admit I'm not fully versed in the law but at the very least it feels unethical to me," Harry said. "But again, if he can't deal with the consequences of his own actions, I'm not sure how that's my problem."
"You attacked a student," Dumbledore said.
"Yep," Harry agreed, figuring it was moot to point out that he didn't initiate either of their conflicts.
"Why?" Dumbledore asked.
"He came running out and challenged me to a duel. I won. He was unhappy about it and threatened to hurt Hermione and my other friends. I told him what I thought of that idea. For what it's worth he initiated both conflicts. I'm sure the Head Girl would point out I was merely defending myself. And that if I wanted to it could have gone far differently for little Draco," Harry shrugged as he spoke. Hermione gave him a glare that indicated rather clearly how she felt about being included. "Really, given that we're at a school I figured I could teach him an important lesson about his own limitations."
"Mister Potter," Dumbledore said, clearly shocked.
"Are we done?" Harry asked. "I'm famished."
"Come to my office this evening," Dumbledore ordered as Harry started to leave.
"I'm busy this evening," Harry said. He felt Dumbledore's magic flare. He felt the headmaster trying to pin him in place. He shrugged it off, stepping easily away from it, pulling Herrmione away and moved toward the Great Hall. He didn't spare a glance to see if Dumbledore was surprised that he'd done it or not.
"You shouldn't have done that," Hermione said as she regained her composure.
"You're right. I should have just killed them. I was feeling generous," Harry said.
"Harry!" Hermione scolded. Harry just gave her a look causing her to frown. "What happened to you?"
"Nothing," Harry shrugged. "I don't like bullies.
"Well yes, but that was excessive," Hermione said.
"He's had years to learn how to not be a piece of shit," Harry said. "Maybe this lesson will sink in faster."
"I don't understand how you even did it," she frowned, clearly sensing that arguing with him about it wasn't going to get her anywhere. "You didn't even use magic the second time. He dueled three ravenclaws to a standstill last year in a competition. And you just sauntered in and made him look helpless."
"Figured it would embarrass him more," Harry said. Which, he supposed, it would. But he hadn't used magic because, well, he wanted to feel it as he hurt Draco.
"What did you do to Snape?" she asked quietly.
"Nothing," Harry said.
"Harry, he didn't move from his seat after you left the classroom. I had to check to make sure he was even breathing. And he hasn't been at the staff table since," Hermione said with a frown.
"I met his gaze and let him see who I was. I don't know what he saw. I've done it twice before him. The first time I saw exactly who Circe was, to her very core. I felt her emotions, her desires, her everything. The second time was more by accident and very brief but I saw a friend for what he truly was for a moment. And Snape, well, I saw a childish bully," Harry shrugged.
"I've read about magic like that. But it's not supposed to be something normal people can just do, Harry," Hermione said, her frown deepening.
"I don't think I'm normal people," Harry said, images of Hestia filling up his mind.
"What do you mean by that?" Hermione asked, peering at him as they took a seat at the Gryffindor table. Harry stared at the food as it appeared on the table but suddenly found his appetite gone.
"Nothing," Harry said. Hermione started to serve herself. When she noticed Harry was making no effort she started to pile food on his plate as well, much like she would have before a Quidditch match where he'd refuse to eat.
"That's a terrible answer," Hermione scowled at him.
"Yeah," Harry agreed. Hermione looked away from the food and frowned at him. They were silent for a few moments. Hermione started to eat while Harry spent his time staring across the hall, watching the students filter in.
"You know, I always wanted to be a dentist like my parents, up until a few years ago," Hermione said. Harry turned his attention to her, his brows raised as he wondered if he misheard her.
"Really? I don't think you ever mentioned that," Harry said, wondering if he'd just forgotten.
"Of course I didn't. I used to get picked on enough, imagine if people knew I wanted to be a dentist? What kid wants to be a dentist?" Hermione asked. Harry nodded his understanding at her and went about destroying his food with his fork rather than eating it.
"Fair point," Harry said. "But why are we talking about this?"
"I'm telling you that I'm prepared if talking to you is going to be like pulling teeth," Hermione scoffed. Harry blinked at her a couple of times and then laughed.
"Good one," he said.
"Thanks. Now are you going to tell me what you mean or do I have to use other tools?" Hermione teased. Harry raised his brows, a part of him wanted to tease her about that. But his heart wasn't in it.
"I'm not sure I can. When I can think of a way to talk about it that doesn't make me sound crazy I'll tell you," Harry said.
"Well fine," Hermione frowned down at her food. Harry did the same, actually surprised she gave up so easily. He pushed some roasted potatoes around his plate with his fork before continuing the conversation.
"What changed?" he asked. "About the dentistry, I mean."
"The magical world doesn't seem to need dental professionals," Hermione said. "Healers just fix teeth immediately. Even regrow them if need be. It's all very quick and very easy."
"So what are you going to do?"
"I actually have a job at the ministry lined up," Hermione said. "In the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
"Congratulations," Harry said, giving her a genuine smile. "Doing what?"
"I'm not sure of the exact day to day work. I'll be the most junior member of the Wizengamot Administrative Services office," Hermione said. "From what I gather it'll start with reviewing cases and magical laws."
"Sounds right up your alley," Harry said. "I bet you'll kill it."
"The head of the department was actually rather impressed with the amount of research I did about Buckbeak years ago," Hermione admitted, a blush rising to her cheeks. "He actually approached me about it at the beginning of the year. Apparently he's been keeping tabs on me since."
"You'll be running the department in five years," Harry said, keeping the smile on his face. He was happy for her. But something about her having her future set brought his mind to how empty he felt at the moment. Still, he was a good enough friend to not let that emotion slip onto his face.
"I doubt it," Hermione frowned. "I think it's more of a stepping stone than anything."
"Well, I'm sure you'll be great at it," Harry said.
"I hope so. I'm nervous," she said with a shrug that indicated she knew that was to be expected. "But more importantly, what are you going to do?"
"Be me," Harry shrugged. Hermione rolled her eyes at him.
"That doesn't seem like a profession," she said.
"Probably not," Harry agreed. He frowned a bit at the thought. For some reason, he had a hard time seeing Seth sitting behind a desk at the ministry and dealing with bureaucracy. And being an employee certainly felt wrong to him.
"So you're going to have to figure something out," Hermione said.
"I'm sure I will," Harry agreed, thinking that his idea of that something may be vastly different than hers.
"If you need help," Hermione started.
"I won't," Harry said.
"Are you sure? It wouldn't be any trouble," she said.
"I'm sure."
"You're not eating," Hermione noticed.
"Not as hungry as I thought," Harry shrugged. "Think I'm more tired than anything. I think I'll just head to bed soon."
"All that cardio have you all worn out?" Hermione teased.
"It doesn't help," Harry said. Although, honestly, he felt like it gave him more energy rather than less, there seemed to be little reason to argue about it.
Eventually the Patil twins joined Hermione. They were chatting about some final they had the next day and Harry managed to tune out the conversation. He didn't notice that Padma kept stealing glances at him.
He excused himself during a lull in their conversation. He didn't notice Padma following him out of the Great Hall and toward his bedroom until she stepped into stride with him. She didn't say anything as they walked.
Harry paused outside the door to his guest suite and stared at her. She cast her eyes down in a demure fashion, momentarily raising them up to meet his before looking away. She was pretty, he thought, but in his head it didn't matter.
He slipped around her and into his room, alone, before she had any time to react. He didn't spare her another thought.
He kept to himself for the next few days as the year end feast approached. He didn't attend when it came. Instead, while the rest of the castle marched toward the Great Hall, he sat on a bench and watched the sunset over the lake.
He didn't move when the sky darkened. He lost himself in his own thoughts as the days rewound in his mind. He'd messed it all up. He knew that. Honestly, it shouldn't have surprised him, he seemed to have a talent for it.
Whatever he'd been supposed to do, whatever the correct decision to make was, he'd done the opposite. Somehow, that didn't surprise him.
It was well past midnight when he finally started to think about going back inside. At least until he heard someone walking up behind him. Hermione, he thought. She seemed to be able to find him lately.
"Hey," she said in a soft, almost sheepish voice. He nearly jumped off the bench. It wasn't Hermione's voice. It wasn't Hermione's voice at all. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and, like magic, she was there. He felt her close the gap to the bench on shaky legs. And he felt her as she rested onto the bench next to him. And when he opened his eyes, she was there.
"Hey," he responded. She tensed at his words. He tensed at her presence. The silence that followed hung over the grounds. Harry turned to look at her and his breath froze in his throat. She was her, but she looked like the last image he'd seen melt away. Her hair was more red than brown and her eyes were a pale gold, far closer to Helios's than he'd ever seen.
She was dressed oddly modern for her. She wore joggers and a tanktop. Her face was flushed with effort and she was breathing harder than Harry would have expected.
"So," she said after minutes of silence.
"This is awkward," Harry said.
"You went and saw me," she said.
"I did," Harry said.
"I told you not to," she said.
"You did," he responded.
"You didn't listen," she said.
"I didn't," he responded. She crossed her arms over her chest and peered over at him on the bench.
"I hate you," she said. Silence followed her words. At least until her hands slipped off of her form, one sliding into his own on the cold stone bench.
"I love you," he responded.
"You didn't kill me," she said.
"I did not," he responded.
"Why not?" she asked. "She took everything from you. She ruined your life. You grew up miserable because of her. You had a chance to fix it."
"So did you," he said.
"What did you see?" she asked.
"So much that it still makes my head swirl if I try to think about it. But that doesn't matter. It's not why I didn't go through with it," he said.
"Why didn't you then?" she asked.
"Because I love you. Yes, I spent years miserable. And yes I hated it. But if she doesn't kill my parents, if I'm not what I am, then you are not what you are. And I can live with what we became. I like what we became. I don't think I could live knowing that I hurt you. So even though I did hurt you. I'm sorry, Circe. I know I was wrong. I should have fought it harder. I should have tried to stay. I…well…I thought forever would be longer than it was, I guess," Harry said. Circe's only initial response was to squeeze his hand.
"Forever is still going on," she said. He opened his mouth but no words came. He took a deep breath and then asked.
"Do you mean it?"
"I love you too, you know," she said. It was his turn to squeeze her hand.
"What happened to you?" he asked.
"When you went to the portal I could only think of saving myself. So I fled. I remembered a book about soul magic and I found it at Seth's. I tried to remove part of me. To see if that would keep me alive if you decided Emily needed to die. I don't think it would have worked but I had to try something," Circe said.
"And?" Harry asked.
"And I got parts of it out. But it was so painful. As bad as being burned by my father. But that didn't stop me. I pressed on. Until I started to feel the memories of our time wobble. And then they started to fade. And it occurred to me that I didn't want to lose those memories. So, I stopped and waited for my fate. I'd already said I'd left it in your hands. Whatever you wanted from me, forever," she said.
"But it never came," he said.
"It didn't," she agreed. "And when I looked in the mirror I realized what I'd done. I hope you don't hate it."
"You're still as beautiful as you were," he said. "I'm sorry for making you suffer through that. For just making you wait for it to all be over."
"It's okay," she said quietly, turning her gaze away from him.
"It's not. But I know how you feel," Harry said as the silence fell over them again.
"After a few days I figured you couldn't have done anything. Because I didn't feel different and something would have changed. I couldn't think of anything to do so I went back to the island," she sighed.
"You didn't," he laughed, remembering her ranting about life on Aeaea.
"I did. The runes are broken there. But it still felt like home. But it felt empty and lonely. And in the end I figured I should at least come and see if you made it back," she said.
"And you're here," he said.
"I went out for a run," she responded.
"You?" he teased.
"I knew you did it to try to clear your head sometimes. After a couple of miles I realized where I wanted to be so I let magic take me here," she admitted.
"I missed you," he said.
"I missed you too," she responded.
"Is it completely inappropriate if I kiss you?" he asked.
"Yes," she said. "But do it anyway." And so he did. Just once and briefly on the lips. But a moment later again, and then again. Her eyes were wet with tears when they broke apart, and he could feel his own on his cheeks. He looked into the gold of her eyes, thinking both that he liked it and that it would take some getting used to. Eventually, he asked a question that had been lingering on his mind since he'd felt her presence once more.
"Is forever still on the table?" he asked.
"I'd like it to be," she responded. "But…"
"But?" he asked.
"I can't keep doing this. I can't keep running in circles through time or whatever it is we're doing. I'm exhausted. This isn't the life I like, the life I wanted," Circe said with a sigh. "This isn't what I wanted to do."
"I agree with that. It was fun, portal hopping. But it was exhausting. And it led me to some stupid decisions. I don't want that either," Harry said.
"The question, then, is what do you want?" she asked. Her words lingered in the darkness. Harry smiled at the simplicity of his answer. It was obvious, he thought. Almost painfully so.
"What I've wanted for the last three years. The only difference now is that I know what it is." He said
"Oh?" she asked.
"I want to go home," he admitted. He squeezed her hand again. At first she did nothing. She merely sat on the bench and peered out toward the lake. But after few moments she nodded and slipped to her feet. She spun around and took his hands, pulling him to his feet with her.
"Well then," she said, perching up on her tip-toes to kiss him once more. She let her lips linger on his for a moment before finishing her thought.
"Let's go."
Author's Note: Thanks for reading and reviewing I do appreciate it. If you are interested in supporting me further I am available on PAT RE ON at TE7writes. Currently the final chapter of Ithaca and the next chapter of Cleansing the Sins of the Past are live over there for your reading pleasure.
Thanks again!