Chapter 20: present day, continuation
After floating additional chairs from the sitting room, the three former schoolmates settled in around Dumbledore's bed – Hermione to his right, Draco to his left, and Harry at the foot. The tension in the room was palpable as gazes darted to and fro. "I suppose," Dumbledore quietly began, "that you each have a number of questions. But," he paused to look them each in the eye, "I would appreciate your indulgence of an old man by letting me tell you first why I have brought you all together." Silent nods from his students-turned-colleagues allowed him a moment to close his eyes and gather his thoughts.
"The simple fact is, I am dying and I wish to leave Hogwarts in the most capable hands possible." At her small sound of sorrow, Dumbledore turned to Hermione. "Dear girl," he gazed on her with tenderness, "Minerva has tendered her resignation and it is you whom I desire to see in her post of Transfiguration professor and head of Gryffindor house."
Hermione's shock was quickly replaced by confusion as she reached out to grasp her beloved headmaster's hand. "But, Albus, I don't understand…" she began only to be gently shushed by the look in his eyes. "Forgive me," she whispered. "Please go on."
Turning his gaze to Draco, Dumbledore continued. "Young, Mister Malfoy," he paused to grin. "With the promotion of Severus to Headmaster, I find myself needing a strong Potions professor and head of Slytherin house. I can think of none better to foot the bill." Draco nodded gravely, marveling once more at the faith the wizened man put in him.
"And, Harry," Dumbledore turned his attention to his third guest. "Though Voldemort's reign is a thing of the past, dark magic will always find a way to permeate our society. And so, I ask you to teach our youth wisely in your new position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. In addition, I happen to know a certain Quidditch coach who grows more weary of the challenges with each passing year and would enjoy having a hand with the students and their matches." He winked like a youngster at Harry and earned an impish smile in return.
"You can count on us, Albus," Harry said firmly.
"We won't let you down," Draco agreed.
All eyes turned to Hermione. "But, Albus," she began again in earnest. "How in the world can you expect me to return when my presence would put so many at risk?"
"There is no more danger, Hermione," Albus reassured her as he squeezed the hand holding his. "As I mentioned just now to Harry, Voldemort's reign is a thing of the past."
She chewed on her bottom lip and pursed her brows as she considered the gravity of his words. "Then all of his followers are gone?" she asked, scarcely daring to breathe. At Dumbledore's solemn nod, Hermione flushed with shame. Draco hadn't been lying to her. Lucius couldn't have sent him to harm her if he was…he would have to be…
"Lucius died over a month ago," Draco's voice broke into Hermione's thoughts like a slap, forcing her to look at him. "He should have been committed to St. Mungo's years ago. Dementia. Paranoia. Schizophrenia. I wasn't prepared to care for him myself. But he wouldn't allow me to seek help. And I refused to abandon him." Draco couldn't go on as he tried to remain stoic about the long ordeal.
Hermione felt a lone tear trickle down her cheek as she searched Draco's eyes for some sort of forgiveness. "I'm sorry," was all she managed to whisper before they broke their gaze simultaneously to look down into their laps.
Dumbledore allowed the awkward silence to continue for a moment more, catching Harry's attention with a raised brow. Looking quickly between the two bowed heads and back to Harry again, he communicated a silent request. Look after them. And Harry nodded in understanding.
"I suppose I should get on with my explanations," Albus said. Three sets of eyes trained themselves on his face as he took a deep breath. "We'll begin with Harry, then. It was the night of the battle and we each had a job. Mine, you may recall, was to keep as last line of defense against the castle doors. It was from there I watched the four of you fight your way to the ridge. And when you had gone a sufficient distance, I turned my post over to a number of Aurors in order to follow at a safe distance. After all, I couldn't risk being detected by Voldemort…or by any of you for that matter."
Albus raced with a speed meritorious of a man half his age. Deftly, he moved over roots and boulders, through mire and undergrowth, until the rise of the ridge was in sight. Ahead of him he saw Lucius Malfoy surprise the trio standing sentinel to Harry. Silently, he watched as both Ron and Hermione fell to Draco's magic. He knew they would be physically fine if guarded well from the remainder of the battle. It was the mental and emotional anguish he felt sure they would suffer that caused his heart pain. But Harry… He had to stop Lucius before the villainous man distracted Harry, thus tipping the scales in Voldemort's favor. He couldn't let Harry die.
Forging ahead with his mission clear, the revered wizard nearly met his own end as a flash of green light whizzed past his head. Spinning back, Albus found himself engaged in battle with a hooded Death Eater. And this one was strong. "Merlin, help me," Albus thought as he sensed his time to help Harry running out. Back and forth the upper hand was snatched until, at long last, Albus triumphed over his opponent...and Bellatrix Lestrange lay dead at his feet. Without another thought, he spun once more and sprinted up the ridge. What he saw took his breath away.
Harry and Voldemort were at a stale mate. Wands locked, their magic cancelled each other out as the force of their struggle for dominance was slowly ebbing all of their remaining strength. Lucius, triumph in sight, took that moment to call out to his master. "My Lord," he cried, startling the Dark Lord as he raised his wand to Harry. At that moment, the wand connection between Voldemort and Harry was broken and the younger man hollered the killing curse at Voldemort. Outraged and stunned, Lucius screamed the first spell to enter his head and was thrown back as a large explosion rocked the place where Harry had once stood. And when he had recovered himself, Lucius could honestly say he had no idea what had happened. And so when asked by his son, he claimed victory. It was easier.
Breathing heavily from the exertion of the past minutes, Albus lowered his wand as he watched Draco and Lucius flee the ridge. "Please let it have worked," was all he could utter before turning to reawaken the stunned forms of Hermione and Ron.
"I don't understand," Hermione whispered as Dumbledore's voice faded. "What happened to Harry, Albus?"
"That, my dear girl, was the question, which haunted me for years. You see, the spell I cast on Harry in those last moments was a combination glamour and transport. Despite my distractions that night, Imanaged to reach Harry seconds before Lucius and, when Lucius threw his spell, he assumed Harry died in the explosion. What I prayed for, what actually turned out to be true, was that Harry had been transported to St. Mungo's – with a new physical identity – for care and recovery."
He broke into a light chuckle. "It was a fool-proof plan, I thought. However, once the dust had settled, I found myself facing an entire ward of patients with so many hexes, curses, and spells working on them, I wasn't entirely sure Harry was among them. You see, in order to keep him safe should anyone discover my plan, I concocted a glamour not even I would be able to break. It took the better part of ten years to heal every last person in the ward enough so they could be identified and, therefore, ruled out as not Harry. And when at last I found him, I had him moved to a special Unspeakables ward of the hospital. I couldn't have anyone asking questions about our unidentified soldier – not until all was safe again. And it was there, for the next four years, I spent what time I wasn't needed at Hogwarts working with Harry and his healers to restore him completely to health – mind, body, and spirit."
"Dear Lord," Hermione gasped at Harry's circumstances before she turned to him with tears in her eyes. "That means you've been well for a year, Harry," she said.
Knowing his best friend well enough to understand the question she would not ask him, Harry cleared his throat. "They weren't all gone, Hermione…the Death Eaters. I couldn't come fully out of hiding until they were. And so I reentered the world under the cover of my glamour."
"Harry has been assisting me for the past year to pinpoint the locations of the remaining Voldemort loyalists," Dumbledore's voice recaptured Hermione's attention. As an unknown, he could blend into crowds or disappear down dark alleys without anyone being the wiser.
"While Lucius was still alive," Harry continued to explain, "there was hope among Voldemort's followers that the Dark could rise again to power." Harry paused, his eyes flicking quickly in Draco's direction."That's why Ineeded to maintain my secrecy."
Hermione trained her gaze to Draco's eyes but they were unreadable as he had them lowered in the candlelight. Still, he knew she expected to hear from him. "My father wanted me to reign and he was quite vocal about it. Those remaining were biding their time, looking to me for answers and leadership." He snorted as his lips curled into the sneer of his youth. "How they could have believed I would ever take up the cause of a piece of filth like Voldemort is beyond even my comprehension." He shook his head slightly, lost in his own thoughts.
"Although they never worked together, they made an excellent team," Dumbledore finished. "What information Harry was unable to provide,Draco was able to supply." Hermione frowned at this, only to be snared again by Harry's voice.
"And it wasn't easy, Hermione," Harry admitted. "Waking up as someone I didn't know. Being unable to communicate for so long. Finding out I'd lost so many years of my life. Learning of Ron's death and your disappearance. Struggling to regain my abilities. Hoping to regain some semblance of my life."
"Oh, Harry," Hermione cried as she crossed to him. Rising, he caught her in a ferocious hug. "I'm so glad you're alive and so desperately sorry I wasn't there to help you." Tears ran down her face as she clung to him.
"It's alright, 'Mione," he soothed as he stroked her hair. "We're both back now and we'll always have each other to lean on." Pulling her back to look into her face, he grinned. "And since we'll be back at Hogwarts together, I predict we'll be pulling one another out of a number of good scrapes yet!" Hermione nodded as she smiled and then…
Whirling back to stare at Draco with wide eyes, she addressed her next query to her headmaster when Draco refused to acknowledge her gaze. "What did you mean when you said that Draco was able to supply information, Albus?"
Dumbledore hesitated for only a moment before simply stating, "I believe Draco should explain that to you himself, Hermione."