A/N: Thank you to my eight reviewers! I was glad to have your critiques. I really am glad to get this story up. Of course, I say this now, at the very beginning. Just watch—in about 5 chapters, I'll be dragging my feet to write it. Lol. I can be such a procrastinating, lazy bastard :D
I Never Lived
Chapter 2
Initially, life after Voldemort was difficult, and a bit awkward at times. Some things were out of place, new and trying, for many people, but especially for Harry. For Ron and Hermione, this stage began the moment Harry and Albus Dumbledore left the Great Hall to help the fight against the Dark Lord.
They made it through the side chamber shortly before it sealed itself shut, and proceeded to the school's safe havens. Ron had to practically help Hermione walk because she was in no true position to focus on this small function, so distraught she was from Harry's leaving them. When they finally reached the havens, for there were two and they resembled common rooms, relief washed through many to see their (miserable) faces, staff and students alike. By chance, they had picked the haven that held their friends, and they instantly surrounded the Head Girl and ex-prefect.
Frantic questions were thrown at them as to what had happened to Harry. Hermione, seemingly oblivious to all around her, sank down onto a sofa while Ron shakily told them about Harry's going to fight Voldemort. He quieted after that and sat next to Hermione. She latched on to him after a few minutes of sitting as still as a statue, and cried. Ron merely held her, knowing why she was so deeply distressed: there was an enormous possibility that Harry would not survive the ordeal.
The two were left alone to mourn by and large, with the only other person whose presence they tolerated being Ginny. She whispered words of comfort to Hermione while shedding her own silent tears. Hours crept by. Both safe havens were virtually mute as they all waited for a sign to let them know what was occurring on Hogwarts' grounds, or for the messenger the headmaster had spoken of. Dumbledore's assurance that the havens were sound proof proved true, but to Hermione it was more unbearable than being able to hear the noise. They had utterly no idea what was happening and that was terrifying.
Finally, after what felt like a decade since taking refuge, one of the portraits in the room stirred. He quickly fled his frame and five minutes later, came back in a frenzy. He spoke hurriedly to Filch and Professor Sprout and then ran off again. Filch hobbled off rapidly for the heavy steel door; Sprout approached Ron and Hermione. She had fallen asleep against him, and he roused her gently but hastily.
"Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley—come with me," she rushed to say.
They did not stay to see what was happening with the rest of the students, but knew the other half of the school was coming into their haven and would be addressed. Once in the actual castle again, they noticed two things: it was the late afternoon, and not a bird in the sky was singing. There appeared to be no sound whatsoever. Grimacing, Ron took Hermione's as they followed the Herbology professor to wherever they were headed, not daring to say a word.
It turned out their destination was the hospital wing. What was more, it was the fullest it had ever been. Wizards, all injured, were in beds, standing, sitting, conscious, and unconscious.
"What?..." the Head Girl started. And then she saw the person in the bed closest to the window: Harry. Her hands flew to her mouth and Ron blanched. Their best friend looked ghastly—looked dead. He had no hue to his skin and was covered in gashes, cuts, bruises, scratches, and blood.
"Harry!" gasped Hermione.
"He is alive," a quiet voice told them. Dumbledore came into their field of view as Madame Pomfrey bustled up to Harry, with tears in her eyes, to tend to him. Their headmaster hardly looked better than their friend, but to add to it he appeared old—immensely old.
"Is… what-what… about…" Ron stuttered, staring at the dark haired young man.
"Voldemort is gone," Dumbledore revealed, "He and his army did not breach the castle in any way, but the school's grounds are a virtual, ruined battlefield."
"What about Harry?" demanded Hermione, crying angrily.
"We are preparing to send him to St. Mungo's, along with everyone else who is bedridden."
"We want to go as well." Ron suddenly answered. She nodded vigorously. The old wizard told them they could not, and when they began to protest, he explained that it would have to wait a night. They could leave first thing in the morning, but would have to spend that night getting ready.
After they reluctantly agreed, Dumbledore told them a little about the battle. He spoke of Kingsley Shacklebolt's carrying an unconscious Harry into the castle before passing out himself, but gave no great detail for anything he talked about. Perhaps he would leave that to Harry…. Before leaving the hospital wing and going to the Gryffindor common room, Ron and Hermione made sure to inquire about all of their loved ones in the Order. All were alive; maybe severely hurt, but alive.
And so Ron and Hermione left Hogwarts the following morning, thus ending their seventh and final year in a premature, sudden fashion. In fact, the entire school year was finishing early; the other pupils were to be sent home the succeeding day and without having any year-end exams, including NEWTs.
They went straight to St. Mungo's only to find a whole wing devoted to the wizards whom had fought in the assault on Hogwarts. Many were only there for one day, or speedy treatments, but there were the more serious cases. Bill Weasley, whom had been there to greet them and who had gotten his remedies the previous day, informed them Dumbledore would be present later in the day. (The oldest Weasley child had an ugly conspicuous scar above his left eye and looked slightly discolored). He also explained that most every wizarding communication outlet on Earth was outside the hospital, dying to get in. Dumbledore had given specific orders to keep them out until he had an opportunity to speak to them.
Harry had his own, personal closed off section in the ward he was staying in, along with the other serious victims in the battle. When they arrived, Arthur, Molly, Fred and George Weasley were there. Mrs. Weasley burst into fresh tears and hugged them both viciously, blubbering indistinctly. Arthur, like Bill, had already undergone his treatment, but bore some testimony that he had been in the fight: his left arm was in a sling.
"The Healers say it's fine, I just need to let it rest," he commented.
Harry was not awake, and apparently hadn't been since he had been brought to the hospital; this did nothing to ease Hermione's strife. For once, the twins weren't smiling. Not much was said as the seven of them stood or sat by Harry's side, fearfully watching his blank face for any movement. Ron and Hermione vowed to stay the night with Harry, and no one protested.
Remus Lupin came to visit about an hour after Hermione and Ron's arrival. He came with his own battle wounds: a slight limp in his right leg. He explained that he had been held at the hospital overnight the previous day. When Hermione asked if his leg was permanently damaged, he said no.
"I'll be walking normally again in a few weeks."
Arthur wanted to know if the precise number of causalities for both sides was yet known, and Lupin solemnly told him Dumbledore was bringing that information with him later. He also let Ron and Hermione know that Tonks was in the same wing as Harry, them; they wanted to see her.
Nymphadora Tonks was conscious when they approached her bedside. In fact, she seemed highly annoyed.
"There is nothing wrong with me," she insisted to the teenagers, having just gone through a nasty coughing fit, "I'm fine, but no one believes me. Not even Remus."
"You're in this wing for a reason, Nymphadora. You have a considerable condition," the old professor told her patiently.
"I know I do. It's that the Healers here are considerably delusional about my health!" Ron and Hermione smiled lightly.
"She's actually the most fit patient in the ward, the least grave. But even so…" Lupin commented quietly.
"How's Harry?" Tonks inquired. Hermione looked away quickly, hugging herself, and Ron put a hand on her shoulder.
"The same," the Marauder dismally reported. Ron and Hermione visited all of the others in the ward, sadly noting their various trauma. (Dedalus Diggle had ¾ of his face wrapped in bandages and seemed absolutely bored).
Dumbledore came to St. Mungo's a little before four o'clock in the afternoon. He called all of the remaining Order in assemblance in Harry's wing, so the ones restricted to beds could hear as well. (Kingsley, Elphias Doge, Charlie Weasley and Minerva McGonagall were some of the wizards who came). Hogwarts' headmaster granted Ron, Fred, George and Hermione permission to stay and gave his testimony.
After speaking of his gratitude, their bravery, Harry and the triumphant outcome, he got on to the casualty list. Both sides had lost, but the Dark Side had lost more than human lives; goblins, trolls, and giants had died as well. Dumbledore revealed that Voldemort himself, Peter Pettigrew, Bellatrix Lestrange, Walden Macnair, Crabbe Sr., and Antonin Dolohov had all perished (Peter murdered by his own kind for wanting to back out). Remus wore a tight expression upon hearing this. He was now the actual last living Marauder.
Dumbledore then, sadly, named their losses: a handful of Law Enforcement Wizards, Alastor Moody, Sarai Higgins, Emmeline Vance, and Severus Snape. It was a horrible shock for them all. Moody, Snape—gone? Ron's face portrayed everything Hermione was thinking. Had they ever expected Snape to… die? The old wizard spoke with the Weasleys, Hermione and Remus before leaving to inform the press of Voldemort's fate, and looked guiltily at Harry before exiting.
The brunette and redhead kept to their word and sent the night at St. Mungo's right by Harry's side. A kind Healer conjured them cots to sleep on. They woke early the following morning and waited, continuing to watch their best friend. Molly and Remus showed up again during the late morning, with copies of many papers all exuberantly proclaiming the same topic: You-Know-Who's death. While the rest of the world began celebrations that day (that would last a good month), Ron and Hermione waited for the newly dubbed Boy Who Prevailed to wake up. Ginny came rushing into the room some time after four with Arthur, all a fluster. She had tears in her eyes and blabbered everything Dumbledore had told the students, posing frantic questions about Harry. She quieted upon seeing him, and sat next to Hermione.
It was at five o'clock, when Hermione was losing hope and a Healer was looking him over, that Harry came around. His screwed up and he clenched his teeth. Everyone tensed, including the Healer. His head moved from side to side for a moment, and then he groaned.
"H-Harry," Hermione tentatively tried, rising to her feet, "Harry." Nothing happened at first, and then he suddenly opened his eyes. There was a silent gasp.
"Her… mione? R-Ron?" It came out in a hoarse whisper, but Harry had spoken. As Mrs. Weasley cried joyfully, Ron laughed weakly, shaking, and Lupin smiled, putting a hadn over his face, Hermione could not remember feeling so alleviated and lightheaded.
Dumbledore was notified, and he suggested Harry have no other visitors until the next day. It was valid; he was still weak and didn't speak much. Hermione and Ron wanted to stay the night once more, even demanded it. For the second day they received their wish, and Harry was grateful. The other four left at ten o'clock and promised to come back the succeeding day. The three best friends stayed up for another hour, trying to vocalize their gladness, until the Healer insisted they sleep, emphasizing Harry's feeble state.
Harry's visitors started to come early in the morning. It began with all of the Weasleys and Remus. (He was still sleeping so they had to wait a bit). An hour after their presence, Dumbledore, Shacklebolt, McGonagall, and Flitwick made theirs known. Tonks even left her own bed to talk to him face to face.
"One more night, and I should be able to leave!" she noted, stifling a cough. It was crowded in Harry's area, but he was so pleased to have all of them present. A little after eleven o'clock, a harassed young Healer came to the wing with news.
"There is an alarming number of people wanting, no, bursting, to see Mr. Potter. Many of them have cameras, quills, and parchment." All of Harry's callers began to protest, but Dumbledore handled the situation.
"The media will not be able to speak with Harry under any circumstance while he is here—it is too stressful," he explained, "Once he is released, however, it is entirely up to him."
"I still won't want to." Harry rancorously replied.
"I did not think so, Harry," the old man smiled, "However, the Ministry will—"
"Only them, then," he muttered, "And only after I leave."
Dumbledore, Arthur and Kingsley went to rid of the press. Around one o'clock, after Harry had eaten lunch, the group began to disperse with promises of future visits. The headmaster requested to speak with the boy alone and a few of his kin had small reservations, but dutifully left the two to their discussion.
"So, when… when are, we, going to bring up… you know?" Ron asked Hermione as he, his sister, and she sat at a quaint table in the tearoom.
"I don't know…," she nervously answered, rubbing her arm, "Whenever he's ready."
"Knowing Harry, it'll be when someone drags it out of him." Ginny commented. Hermione silently agreed.
"Well, I have… need to talk about… was wrong," he mumbled, not making eye contact. The girls looked at one another and frowned.
Dumbledore departed after his talk with the Boy Who Prevailed. The ones who remained were Remus, Molly, Fred, George, Ginny, and, of course, Ron & Hermione. They desired to stay yet another night, but were denied.
"Now, really," Molly lectured, "You need a decent bed to sleep in and proper food to eat. And Hermione, darling, your poor parents are probably dying of worry! You must see them! Harry, dear, that doesn't mean we'll abandon you. I'll send Arthur and Ron back with a respectable plate of food, and he'll be back bright and early tomorrow morning with Hermione."
This plan seemed to appease them well enough. They all left at six o'clock (keeping the promise of bringing him food later), and the redhead and brunette returned at 7:30 the next day. They told Harry that most everyone was working once more, but would come to see him for some amount of time. (Molly and Ginny would come around at lunch to stay the remainder of the day). Harry asked Hermione what her parents had said.
"They were frantic, there's no denying that," she professed, "But Professor Dumbledore talked to them the night they brought you here, so they at least knew where I was. They asked a lot of questions, half of which I couldn't answer, but they understand that I'm not… I'm not, leaving you, until you're better." A slight blush had come to her cheeks.
"Yeah. I'll be at home only to sleep," added Ron, "However long you need us for, mate."
"Thanks." Harry said, fully appreciating his friends' loyalty. Consequently, he couldn't stop mulling over Hermione's remark about not being able to answer her parents' questions; this was because his best friends didn't know all of the details regarding the battle, or his part in it.
Harry knew he had to tell them— he felt he owed it to them. (Dumbledore's conversation with him the previous day, indeed about the battle and causalities, also pushed him). And Ron and Hermione certainly hadn't forgotten about it, so they spent an awkward hour and a half striving to avoid the subject when it so adamantly pounded their minds. He finally came undone at ten, and began to pour forth the tale. Hermione and Ron listened intently, not daring to move a muscle.
It had been bloody and brutal, with both sides receiving equal damage. Wizards had been trampled on by giants, beaten into pulp by trolls, and the body parts of dark creatures had strewn the grass. It was a frightening massacre, but Harry had a purpose he had to focus on: finding Voldemort. Dumbledore was at his side, fighting (and defeating) anything that came for Harry, or himself. It wasn't until a band of six Death Eaters descended that the headmaster and pupil separated, the old wizard dueling gallantly. He told Harry to continue on, and the Gryffindor had to consent. Harry saw two professors, two Order members, and two Ministry workers rush to help Dumbledore as he hurried away.
He saw Voldemort before he realized what, or whom, he was staring at. The Dark Lord had apparently not seen his arch nemesis, and was fighting an Auror. The boy simply gazed stupidly at the scene, wand hanging limply. There was his destiny… his fate. Harry was never so convinced of death than at that moment. A spell flew terribly close to his left ear, jolting him. A Death Eater, grinning wickedly, closed in on him. As he prepared to defend himself, a green light shot from behind Harry and struck the Death Eater. The boy turned, only to see Voldemort slowly lowering his wand and staring at him. (His Auror was on the ground, lifeless). Harry knew why he had done that: Voldemort had him marked as his, and would let no one steal his glory of killing him. Not one word was spoken between the two as Tom Riddle drew nearer.
"It was like there was no need. After so many years of being linked to each other, we just… knew," Harry murmured, staring straight ahead. He told them of his last grapple with Voldemort, "I was losing, badly. It was sad how much he had me by, and the whole time he had this sick smile on, and look in his eyes. I just remember being on the ground, wanting to die so much. He was playing with me. All of the things I had learned seemed to be completely gone from my memory. My body ached and my blood was everywhere. He could've offed me then, but I think he enjoyed watching me—liked savoring my pain. After the Cruciatus Curse, at which I couldn't even find the strength to scream, he was finally ready to kill me.
He raised his wand, and said, 'Goodbye, Harry Potter', and that was it. Suddenly, I felt this enormous surge of… hate as I looked at his ugly face. Unimaginable… hate, for everything he had done, to everyone. I don't even know if hate is a strong enough word. But, next thing I know, I'm lifting my wand, a-and I say this spell I've never heard of before in my life. I don't know if I could even repeat it now. I just…"
"What'd it do?" Ron questioned in a hushed voice, when Harry trailed off.
"It k-killed him. There was this bright flash of purely white light, he… screamed, a-and when it faded, there was a small crater where he had been. I stared at it for what seemed like ever before my head began spinning and I passed out. When I woke up, I was in St. Mungo's."
Hermione couldn't contain herself and threw herself on Harry, sobbing. She knew she shouldn't have, but no Healer in the world was going to part them. Ron watched the two with solemn eyes, appearing to be battling something within himself. Upon seeing that he persisted to keep the same countenance after their brief interlude, Harry inquired, fearfully, as to his problem. Was he still uneasy with watching the two of them?
"Harry, Hermione—I have to apologize," Ron started, dolefully, "How I've been acting towards you, since March… it's, I—I-'ve been a right prick!"
The redhead went on to ask their forgiveness for his attitude regarding their relationship. He explained his emotions at the time, but now confessed he had taken it all to the extreme.
"I was upset, but thinking about how I treated you two… I, maybe I betrayed you, b-by not letting you explain. I just feel so stupid now," he said, staring hard at the side of Harry's bed, "And, Harry—I-I blamed you for something that wasn't even your fault. I was convinced you stole H-Hermione, but I blamed you for what I didn't have: her feelings in return. I acted like a possessive prat." Ron's head had then gone into his hands shamefully.
"Don't, Ron. Don't apologize. We weren't right either. Forget it—it's in the past." Harry remarked as Hermione, with tears brimming her eyes, went to console her other best friend. With these two newly formed bridges built, the trio's mood lightened considerably. It was as though the beginning of a completely fresh start was commencing. To make their late morning even more pleasant, all of Harry, Ron, and Hermione's roommates from Hogwarts came to visit, along with a handful of DA members.
The rest of Harry's stay at St. Mungo's was amiable enough. His health progressed nicely, and he had, at least, six people come every single day: Dumbledore, Hermione, Ginny, Remus, Ron and Molly. (Tonks, indeed, had gotten out the day his Hogwarts friends had come and made sure to return to spend time with him). Harry gladly left the hospital after a week of staying within its walls, but not before saying goodbye to the other wizards with whom he had shared the ward, including Hestia Jones and Simon Priggs.
"Your things are at the Burrow, Harry. Dumbledore had them sent there." Ron revealed. He nodded.
"Let's go there first, then," he suggested, holding Hermione's hand, "If it's all right with your mum and dad, I want to stay the night."
"Mum will skin you if you don't."
"Tomorrow… tomorrow, I want to go to Number Four, Privet Drive," There was stunned silence. The Dursleys', "Then I need to take a trip to the Ministry."
"Harry, what…" Hermione started.
"I just need to take care of, and end, certain things before I settle into Grimmauld Place for the summer." A summer that held more potential and hope than any other one he had ever experience in his life.
A/N: Right. So this chapter was longer than I expected it to be. I thought I could get all of the background info in one chapter, but that didn't happen. Thus, I split it up. Chapter 3 will also have more back story, but I don't know if it will comprise the entire thing. No worries though—chapter 4 is definitely getting back to the actual plot.
In this story, all of the Weasleys survived the war. In actuality, I don't think all nine will. But that's just me. I also killed Snape, even though I love him, 'cause I do believe he's gonna snuff it in the seventh book. Call me pessimistic if you will, and I shan't be mad, 'cause I am pessimistic :D
I also don't know how I feel about the whole Remus, Tonks deal. It was unexpected and odd when reading it in HBP, so their relationship is uncertain in my story. Thanks for reading today! Next chapter will be posted next week.