Chapter Twenty
It was a warm day at the beginning of July when they finally told Michael he could go. The air was nice... A lot less stale than he'd been breathing in the hospital. He still couldn't use his hands which was annoying, and he needed help with about everything. Better feeling was returning, though, and if he really concentrated, he could move his thumb sometimes on his left hand. The night before, he'd been complaining so much that Daphne had tied his fork to his hand so he could try to eat by himself. After that failed miserably, he let her help him. It wasn't so bad, after all.
Anthony hadn't been released too much earlier. As it turned out, the worst part of the ordeal was the severe concussion he'd sustained when the spell threw him back against the wall. He was actually here, sitting next to Daphne with his arm draped around her. If it were anyone but Anthony, Michael might feel jealous, but the fact that his best friend was getting along with his girlfriend - possibly fiance - was enough so that Michael didn't care.
Daphne herself seemed to realize the lack of blood as status now, which was perhaps why she was more tolerant of Anthony. The other reason was probably that the former Prefect had taken it upon himself to get some Muggle clothes for her since she wouldn't leave the hospital. They were all black, which was somewhat his idea of a joke, but it was amazing how much Daphne appreciated the gesture. Lastly, he'd gotten her a black hooded sweatshirt, and somehow he'd found a Slytherin patch, which he'd gotten someone to stitch onto the front. She was wearing that now over a black t-shirt. Michael hoped she developed an interest in something other than black one day. He couldn't help thinking that she'd look really good in blue.
Or green.
"What I don't understand," Daphne said, flipping through the Quibbler. On the front cover, it said "LAST EDITION EVER" in big red letters, under which was printed "Until Next Month." It made Michael doubt the sanity of all of Luna's family. "Well... do you remember those thestrals they had at St. Mungo's? I haven't figured out where exactly they came from. How they got there."
"Oh, that's easy," Anthony replied.
Michael leaned forward on the park bench to try and see past the open pages of Daphne's paper to Anthony. Nearby a couple of children were throwing a few colourful bean bags back and forth, a young woman was painting what might have been them (she hadn't asked, but she was set up looking in their direction), and at a nearby bench, Terry and Seamus sat. Terry was playing Muggle chess with an old man, and Seamus was muttering expletives and jumping excitedly whenever Terry took another piece. He seemed disappointed that the pieces weren't smashing each other to bits.
Anthony slipped his arm away Daphne's shoulders and stood, stretching slowly so that two teenage girls passing by on skates nearly ran into a lamppost. Michael shook his head and pulled one hand out of the pockets he'd asked Anthony to stick them in. He didn't want to walk around with his hands flopping every which way, after all. He dropped the hand down onto Daphne's knee and with carefully controlled effort managed to get three of the fingers to curl a little.
"Well, are you going to keep us in suspense forever?" he asked his friend, raising an eyebrow.
"Luna and Ginny couldn't actually apparate," Anthony replied, dropping one arm to his side while the other went to muss his own hair. "They were underage, remember? However, Potter had given Ginny a piece of this mirror that he could use to communicate with her. The truth of the story was this: after Ron was taken, Harry had run after the Death Eaters. He managed to catch one, and... Well, let's just say he got a bit of information out of him before the bastard could disapparate. He had shouted it back to those who were following him, and so that's how the rest of us knew. Only, Luna and Ginny couldn't. It may have seemed like they disappeared, but in reality they ran down to where the thestrals were being kept.
"They were going to use the thestrals to find Harry, except one of the thestrals was too injured to fly for long, so instead they decided to go to St. Mungo's and see if there was any word of Harry there. When they got there, though, Harry activated the mirror, and so they left the thestrals there to go meet him outside. You know, he's a really good teacher. He never thought he was, but he is," Anthony mused.
"So he taught them how to apparate," Michael offered, and Anthony nodded.
Daphne caught their attention with the rustling of her paper. "Lovegood's written a special section about us. It talks about the survivors and the deceased. Sounds like a, 'What they're doing now' sort of thing. Want to hear it?"
Anthony appeared to be distracted by a girl in platform tennis shoes and a mini skirt with smiley faces patches all over it, but he nodded faintly.
"Go ahead," Michael replied.
"The article starts with the people that died," Daphne said, looking over the paper. "There's a few here I don't think any of us know. First one's a bit shocking, though.
"Rubeus Hagrid, groundskeeper and instructor at Hogwarts for quite some time--" She paused in her reading. "'Quite some time?' You'd think he could get his facts straight when he... Anyway. Rubeus Hagrid, groundskeeper and instructor at Hogwarts for quite some time met his end defending Harry Potter from the Dark Magic of the most powerful wizard we've known in centuries. He will be remembered fondly by his students." She glanced over some of the article.
"Hagrid died?" Michael wondered rhetorically. Anthony, who was now paying rather close attention, was looking at the ground.
"Nymphadora Tonks, Order of the Phoenix member and Metamorphmagus, also died defending Harry Potter. She was known as an exciting young woman with an excessive love for life." Daphne went on, smiling a little. That had been the woman that had the oddly-colored hair. She read off a few other names - mostly people they didn't know, before getting to another they recognized. "Ernie Macmillan, Hogwarts Prefect for Hufflepuff, 1996 - 1999. According to reports, he died shielding other Hogwarts students from the Killing Curse. Blaise Zabini." She paused again, leaning over on Michael as she read about him. "...Was known for his temper especially. He died in the initial attack on Hogwarts. Stella Fawcett who was well-liked among the boys in her class, died in the initial attack on Hogwarts." She went on to read a few more names of people they knew, and then, "Mackenzie Spinks, endearingly called a jinx by some that knew her, turned out to be an angel in disguise when she shielded one of her classmates from a deadly curse. She was well-liked by all."
They were silent for a while, then Michael said, "It seems a bit strange that that little paragraph is all they are anymore."
"Hey, it's not," Anthony said, sitting down again next to Daphne. "Long as we knew 'em, that counts for something, I'd say. What'd they say about us, Daph?"
She smiled, rolling her eyes. "They started with Potter, of course. Harry Potter daringly ventured into the deepest bowels of the Ministry of Magic, accompanied by both friends and rivals that might never have allied with him had the situation not been so dire. It all worked out for the best, though, as we all knew it would have. After activating the very weapon which caused the Dark Lord to meet his demise, he spent a bit of time in the hospital before joining the Muggle World. Now he has been serving as a counselor for wizards who have no idea what to do with themselves. Staff reporter Luna Lovegood asked Harry what he thought of cheese. Harry responded with 'I think it's all right.'" Daphne chuckled, handing the paper to Anthony. "You read a bit."
Anthony cleared his throat and adjusted the paper before continuing. "The Boy Who Lived plans to continue his work towards helping wizards and witches integrate into Muggle society accompanied by his two best friends and fian--" Anthony paused, blinking. "Ginny and Harry...? Ginevra Weasley Potter? That's a terrible name," he said, shaking his head.
"Would you rather it was Ginevra Weasley Goldstein. I think that's even worse," Michael teased.
Anthony reached over and slapped him gently on the back of the head before continuing. "Potter wishes to thank Sirius Black, the once thought of felon but now posthumously honoured member of the Order of the Phoenix. Sirius Black was Harry Potter's godfather in life, and a close friend of his parents and Professor R. J. Lupin. Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley have been appointed co-counselors to his cause. Hermione Granger continues her work towards the liberation of House Elves. She continues to disbelieve the existence of Orlicks. King Ronald Weasley is--in his spare time--attempting to reorganise Quidditch so that it can continue in some form in the Muggle World. He has created a Quidditch association, of which Seamus Finnigan, Oliver Wood, Zacharias Smith, Roger Davies, and Cho Chang are all notable board members. Cho Chang does believe in Orlicks." He paused, shaking his head. "Lovegood is a strange one."
"Keep going."
"Cho Chang is pursuing work in Muggle medicinal fields. When asked about the treatment of Orlicks in Ireland, she responded with, 'I have no idea.' A troubling thought indeed. She continues to try and help other wizards and witches who desire to continue in healing to integrate into the Muggle medical system," Anthony turned the page. "You read for a bit, Michael," he said, handing the paper over to Daphne, since Michael couldn't hold it. She held it up for him to read.
"Terry Boot has decided to pursue a career in pharmaceutics. He will be attending a Muggle university in the fall. His partner Seamus Finnigan and Finnigan's longtime friend Dean Thomas have opened a book shoppe specialising in both Magical and Wizarding sports in Diagon Alley across from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Dean Thomas is commonly known as the 'really attractive man at the cashier stand,' according to one Miss Merry Boot," Michael chuckled at that. "Poor Terry. He better watch out for those Gryffindors. They seem to do well with the Boot family."
Anthony and Daphne rolled their eyes simultaneously. "Don't stop."
"The next section is about Susan Bones," Michael continued, clearing his throat softly.
"Despite the fact that practical magic as we know it has come to an end, the curse on Susan Bones' voice seems to be permanent. She still can't speak, though she is learning Muggle sign language so she can easily communicate. There is hope that a cure will eventually be found, but until then, she has decided to go into working with deaf children in hopes that they will find comfort in knowing that their mentor can't speak. When asked about her condition, she remained silent and waved her hands a lot. Then she wrote down the following: 'There's no use in being discouraged about it, is there?'"
"Hufflepuffs," Daphne commented. Michael continued.
"This part's about us," he said, smirking a bit. "Anthony Goldstein is undecided in his career path, though he plans to attend a Muggle university to see where that takes him. He was quite badly injured in the battle at the Ministry, though he's doing fine now as it was only his head that suffered any great damage. Friend Michael Corner, while still recovering in intensive care - this must have been written a while back," he noted, "has also been thinking of attending University after physical therapy, at least while Hogwarts is being rebuilt. Professor Dumbledore has offered the former Ravenclaw a position as a History of Magic professor. As reported before, Hogwarts will be turned into a Muggle school for the children of wizarding families. Alongside learning about maths and sciences, they will also study subjects such as History of Magic and Astronomy. As the ghosts have disappeared, the position of History of Magic instructor is currently open." Michael paused, smiling at the others. "I took the offer, by the way," he remarked before going on.
"Daphne Greengrass, having never had any exposure to the Muggle world, seems to be fitting in well enough, though she's taken to wearing all black. She claims this is because it feels most like her school robes, but my sources say she just can't handle all that color. It's reported, too, that she walks around with her eyes closed."
Daphne grunted and folded up the paper enough so that Michael couldn't read anymore. Anthony laughed, but she ignored him and continued. "Daphne plans on possibly attending a Muggle university when she learns a bit more about living without magic. There, she will study veterinary medicine until Hogwarts is rebuilt, where she will become the new professor of Care of Magical Creatures alongside ex-Hogwarts professor Grubbly-Plank, who will remain with her for a couple years until she is certain of what she's doing." Turning the page, she continued.
"In lieu of his incurable blindness, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore has appointed Minerva McGonagall the new headmistress of Hogwarts upon its reopening. Professor Dumbledore plans to retire to the Bahamas where he plans to enjoy the peace and quiet. McGonagall will be assisted by Severus Snape, who will be teaching..." Daphne paused, shaking her head, "Chemistry at the new Hogwarts." She blinked at the pages. "I wonder when he learned...?"
"Well, it's not all that different, is it?" Michael remarked.
Anthony looked like he was about to add something which would not have been especially nice about the former potions professor, but he held his tongue, instead eyeing a couple of girls by a nearby ice cream stand.
Daphne continued. "Well, I guess it doesn't really matter. Anyways, Zacharias Smith, aside from working to rebuild the once popular wizarding sport, has decided to pursue a higher certificate in Muggle education with an interest in banking. He says he would like to open an exchange company that would put Wizarding money into Muggle money. He plans to call it the Macmillan Foundation."
"That's rather sporting of him, isn't it?" Anthony remarked.
"Nice thought, though," Michael replied, nudging Daphne with his shoulder to keep her going.
"Draco Malfoy," Daphne paused, chuckling. "Draco Malfoy, the wealthy heir of Lucius Malfoy, plans on writing an autobiography of the terrible tortures he had to endure, including, as he quotes, 'Having to spend time with Potter.' Rumour has it he will also be going into ferret breeding, having an interest in albino ferrets."
"Sounds like something Weasley put her up to," Michael smirked.
"His father, former Death Eater Lucius Malfoy, remains missing to this day. Malfoy (junior) intends to take care of his mother and himself during the creation of his novel by going into what Muggles call, 'Investment banking.' His ferret farm is sure to get lots of proceeds to go towards this."
Anthony was trying to keep from laughing. Daphne elbowed him with a reproving frown.
"Neville Longbottom, like Cho Chang, intends to enter into a career of medicine. After damaging his legs in the final battle at the Ministry, he has become very interested in physical therapy. He hopes to one day open his own practise. In his spare time, he and his grandmother are taking care of Frank and Alice Longbottom: former members of the Order who were grievously injured in," Daphne paused and took a breath, "Voldemort's first rise to power."
They were all silent for a moment, contemplating the weight of Voldemort's demise. The fact that people were saying his name now, people such as Daphne who were previously terrified to utter the first syllable, spoke volumes.
"The next bit's about Clare and Pansy."
"Clare is one of my favorite people, you know," Anthony said, lifting the paper out of Daphne's hands. Michael hid a smirk. The reality of the situation was that Clare, who couldn't stand men, had almost strangled Anthony on many different occasions.
Anthony cleared his throat dramatically. "Ahem. Clare Rivers, after spending several days as a rather lovely potted plant," (Daphne snickered.) "was also in the final battle at the Ministry. She was able to make it out mostly unscathed, but not unaffected, by the battle. She's quite interested in retroactively studying the effects of curses on the body and has shown a bit of interest in areas of scientific study. When asked if she had anything more specific to add, she told the reporter to kindly get lost." Anthony looked up at the other two. "Sounds about like Clare, I'd say." Michael nodded.
"Pansy's next?" Daphne asked.
"Yeah... Pansy Parkinson, having been rather well-off before the final battle, has shown little interest in pursuing a career that would force her into the Muggle world. She couldn't be reached for comment in person, but she replied via Owl Post, saying quite clearly that she's happy on her own for the moment, and if anything changes, she'll let us know. Oh, there's a footnote," Anthony said, looking down the page and laughing. "Heh. Actual content of letter as received: 'I don't think it's any of your business. If I ever decide to cater to the Muggle muleforce, you'll know.'
"Luna's next." Anthony flipped the page. "Yours truly is doing quite well. I have already gathered the funding to travel to Antarctica in search of the crumple-horned snorkack, which I will feature in an upcoming edition of the Quibbler. I'm also writing a book, which will be printed upside-down. I'm not sure what the title or subject matter is yet, but you, my loyal readers, will be the first to know. After me, of course."
Michael shook his head. "Batty. Lemme read a little more. I'm bored over here."
"Also, I have a new camera man for the Quibbler: Mr. Colin Creevey. He has, in fact, agreed to accompany me on my trek to Antarctica." Michael chuckled to himself, shaking his head before he continued. "Looks like Lovegood's done well, doesn't it?" No one answered, since it was a rhetorical question. "Kingsley Shacklebolt, esteemed Auror, has accepted a position among the royal guard. It is rumoured that he may even be knighted for his efforts in the planning and carrying out of the final battle in the Ministry last May."
"He really did well, didn't he?" Anthony remarked with a grin.
"Looks like it. He deserved it, though, I think," Daphne said with a shrug, holding the paper straight again for Michael to continue reading.
"Remus J. Lupin--former professor at Hogwarts and noted werewolf--has also decided to retire in the aftermath of the final battle. When asked about his plans for retirement, he mentioned a town of werewolves. Due to the current inability to produce wolfsbane, he had opted to move to that town so as to be around people who might be able to understand him and to whom he will not be a danger to. He says that he will be certain to continue visiting Harry Potter whenever possible, and that if he is ever needed again, he will be ready."
"He really is a good man," Anthony said. Michael and Daphne couldn't disagree.
"Finally, we, dear readers, come to the rest of the Weasley family--all of whom have been instrumental in the end of Voldemort's reign of terror. Bill Weasley remains hospitalised; however, his wife, Fleur (former Champion in the Triwizard Tournament for Beauxbaton), had this to say in a rather wonky accent, 'The doctors say that Bill will fully recover, but it may take a long time. I am very proud of him, and I know that his brother, Charlie, who died last year around this time, is also very proud of him in the next life. I hope he knows this.' The last part is about Arthur and Molly Weasley," Michael said, taking a breath. He was going to need a drink after all this.
"Read it quickly," Anthony muttered. Michael glanced at his friend and followed his gaze to a very attractive girl and what looked to be her twin sister sitting on a bench just down the way from them, both enjoying large cones of vanilla ice cream. Michael shook his head, snorting softly, and waited for Daphne to turn to the final page of the article.
"Molly and Arthur Weasley both had a rather brief stay in the hospital due to some minor injuries that weren't all bad. Now that all of their children are grown - in fact, the only one still living at home for now is Ginny, but she will be moving out within the next couple years - they plan on adding a small addition to their house as a bit of a greenhouse for some more exotic magical plants that still grow across the world. They remain friends with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, and have also offered their house as a retreat should any wizards feel lost thanks to the end of magic. Quotes Molly Weasley: We do like a full house, and why shouldn't we open out doors to those that need us?
"As always, this is your reporter, Luna Lovegood, signing off. If I may take a moment to be serious here, I'm personally glad that the color red exists. It's a nice color.
"Until next time." Michael finished, and Daphne folded up the paper, setting it on the bench beside her and noting that Anthony was already gone. Apparently it got too boring for him. It was about that time that a letter fell onto Michael's leg. Both of them looked up to note that there was an owl perched in the tree above them. How long had it been there?
"Can you open it?" Michael asked. Daphne took it and flipped it over so that the address was showing. It was from the Weasley twins. Michael groaned, but Daphne just offered a bit of a smile, leaning against him.
"Michael Corner, the Park Bench-- Rather specific. Looks like it couldn't wait." Skipping the rest of the address, she opened the letter and read it to herself before exclaiming in laughter, "You have to see this."
She held the letter out, and Michael read it aloud. "It appears that we've been a bit hasty in charging you so much for the damage done to the shop. First of all, as magic really doesn't exist anymore, we've decided we really shouldn't charge you that much. Second... We're not really intimidated you realize, but there's a witch named Emma who also happens to be a werewolf that calmly reminded us that she might be willing to eat our livers during the next full moon if we didn't reconsider. Don't worry, she was awfully nice about it. I suppose the conclusion is that if you can send us fourty-nine Galleons, we'll call it even. Sincerely, Fred and George Weasley."
"You know, it seems like they aren't closing the shop, even if there isn't any magic," Michael mused.
"Well, I suppose pranks could be considered something important outside of magic or electricity, aye?" Daphne replied, tucking the note into the front pocket of his shirt.
"Well, it's good to see everyone's doing pretty well after all that," Michael continued, putting his free arm around Daphne's shoulders. They watched in silence for a moment as Anthony perched himself between the two girls. One was giggling and even offered him a bite of her ice cream.
"You know, when his reputation isn't preceding him, he makes out fairly well, doesn't he?" Daphne remarked with a smirk.
"So it seems," Michael replied, watching in amusement as the girl's sister then offered Anthony her own ice cream. He stretched one leg out, knocking his satchel over, which suddenly reminded him of something. "Hey, Daph, can you get me my bag and open it for me?"
"Sure," she said, bending over to pick it up and undo the latches. She pulled back the cover and set it in his lap. "Do you need me to get something out for you?"
"No," he said, shaking his head and pulling his arm back from her shoulders and the other hand from his pocket. Working very carefully with both hands--more so using his palms as a clamp--he pulled a cylindrical green cloth covered object out of the bag. "You haven't given me a real answer yet, you see, and I do remember what you told that nurse when I woke up."
Though she offered a curious glance to what Michael was holding, she looked away. On her face was that nervous smile he'd always liked because she didn't do it very often. She looked warmer that way somehow.
"I... Well I wanted to stay, you know. I hope I didn't offend you."
"They kicked you out anyway," Michael observed with a grin. "No, you didn't offend me. You didn't answer me when I asked about it later, either."
"Yeah, about that..." she said, looking back at the thing he was holding. He knew she'd figured out what it was by then, even though she wasn't commenting on it. He could read her, and that wasn't an easy thing to do... She wasn't uncomfortable, really. Curious, maybe, and a little embarrassed.
Michael handed her the umbrella. He knew exactly how to do this; but even though it was the most confident he'd been about anything in a long time, he couldn't help thinking that if he didn't do it right, he'd scare her away. Daphne was subtle. She never did like a big show, so felt like he had to be careful. After she took it, he explained. "Cho told me what you did when you thought I'd died. I had her get me that. Told her to make sure it was green. I don't really... Have anything right now, you know. I couldn't... Well, I thought you'd like that more than... More than something else anyway."
Her eyes were pretty wide by then, that funny little half-embarrassed smile still on her face. Good, good, she was catching on. He smiled, turning enough so that he could take her hand. He wished he could hold it properly, but that, too, would come one day. "I'll get you that something else if you want it one day, I just..."
She rolled her eyes. Yes, yes, she was impatient, too. Michael laughed, trying to control the thumping in his chest where his heart - he would never take that for granted again - was beating rather rapidly. It was obvious that she wouldn't say no, but the question itself was actually pretty difficult to get out. She was torturing him, though. She wanted to hear it. Finally, "Daphne, will you marry me?"
The knuckles were white on her hand around the umbrella. She pulled her other hand free of his, ducking her head so that her hair started to cover her face, but he knew she was wiping at it. However, when she spoke, she didn't sound too upset. "Since I already made myself your fiancee, I don't see why not," she said. Her voice broke on the last few words, and he started to worry, reaching out to try and draw her hand from her face with his broken fingers. She took his hand, lacing her damp fingers through his own, and shook her head. "I'm fine. I'm fine. Just give me a minute, aye?"
Michael nodded, leaning back again and putting his other hand back around her shoulders. He could feel her tensing and relaxing as she tried to quell the tears, and he knew he'd probably never really understand why she'd started crying. He was certain it was not just a girl thing, but he figured she'd tell him if she wanted him to know.
He heard her undo the velcro holding the umbrella shut, and with a flick of her wrist, she had it extended. She held the hand between her knees as she forced the spikes open, the green fabric going taut. And then, in the middle of the park on that sunny July day, she held it over them. Michael chuckled and attempted to squeeze her hand and shoulder simultaneously. His fingers managed to flinch just slightly, so that she did know what he was trying. She squeezed back and settled against his arm, leaning the umbrella in the crook of her arm so that it would shadow both of them.
And it was answer enough for him.
"I don't think it will be so bad."
"Oh?"
"Not really. If you think about it, there have been Muggleborn wizards for hundreds of years, so maybe magic isn't over completely."
"That would be nice."
"Even if there isn't... Well, at least I have you, aye?"
"Even if I am brain damaged?"
"Not like you weren't before - what with all those bludgers hitting you."
Michael laughed. "Cheers, Daph."
"For what?"
He shook his head and stared up into the sun beaming through the tight green fabric over their heads, and he smiled.