Chapter 13
"Remus!"
In two large strides James Potter had crossed the cell and had fallen on his knees beside his friend. But his relief that Remus was alive was swiftly replaced by deep worry. Cautiously James put a hand on his shoulder and called Remus' name once more.
Remus froze and blinkingly opened his eyes.
"Ja…James?" he whispered unbelievingly.
"Yes, it's me. We are here, Remus. You're safe now. Everything will be all right again."
The shadow of a smile was the only indication that Remus had understood him. While James called for Sirius who was searching the adjoining cells, Remus fell back into his unconsciousness.
Shortly afterwards Sirius stormed in.
"Remus!" he shouted.
"He's alive," James said quickly when seeing the fear on Sirius' face.
"What did they only do to him?" he asked in a choked voice.
"Those cursed, damned…"
"You'd better help him," James interrupted sharply and stood up.
"I've lost my wand," he added in explanation and ran a hand over his forehead.
Sirius raised one eyebrow, but abstained from asking how this could have happened to him. Instead he nodded and bent over Remus. In the meantime James went in search of Poppy Pomfrey, the healer of the Order. But as he finally had found her, he had to realize that she and her helpers had their hands full.
Not only Remus was in a pitiably condition, the other prisoners were it as well, so that James returned to tell Sirius that it would be the best to bring Remus to St. Mungo's. Though the hospital just like Hogwarts had been fiercely fought for in all the years, the Dark Side had never managed to conquer it.
But in Remus' cell he found neither Remus nor Sirius. Thinking that Sirius probably had come to the same conclusion as he, James walked out again. Since he knew that Remus was in good hands with Sirius, he decided to go to the Great Hall, where the Order should meet in the case of victory. He wouldn't be able to do more than Sirius anyway and aside from that he was worried about Harry.
But before he left the dungeons, it suddenly occurred to him that he had to get back his wand. Angry at himself that he hadn't thought of this earlier and above all that he had truly allowed himself to get distracted for a second during the fight, he ran back to the healers.
Borrowing a wand from a young healer, he summoned his wand, thanked her and then set off to the Great Hall. Throwing a glance at his map now and then, he eventually reached the hall, where he came across a great part of the worn-out Order members.
While observing Alastor Moody who was busy to chain about a dozen Death Eaters with two other wizards, a former Auror and colleague told him what had happened. That they had indeed succeeded in defeating the Dark Side was too good to be true. But James could not yet rejoice over their victory. First he had to find Harry, had to know how he fared.
Yet he couldn't spot Harry anywhere. He caught sight of Arthur's daughter, however, who was standing in the middle of the hall with her family.
James said goodbye to his colleague and hurried towards the Weasleys. As he asked the red-haired girl if she knew where Harry was, the friendliness vanished from the faces of her brothers.
"I'm not sure, Mr. Potter, but I think I know where he has gone to. There is a little garden in the park which once belonged to his mother. He is surely there. Come, I'll show you the way."
"Ginny, we…"
"No, Bill. You won't stop me. I'll show Mr. Potter the way and if it's the last thing I do," Ginny replied angrily, turned around and wordlessly marched away.
Confused, James followed her.
"Ginny, wait! We'll come with you. There still could be Death Eaters prowling around in the park," Bill shouted.
Ginny cast a sidelong glance at her brothers, but didn't say anything.
Escorted by Bill and the twins they stepped out into the warm sunlight a while later. James took a deep breath and looked from the trees up to the scattered clouds. Amazed, he realized how peaceful it was in the park. Watching a bird that glided through the skies high above them, suddenly Sirius' words came to his mind.
Yes, Harry was his son. And yet no feeling of love did want to appear. He would, of course, do his duty. Harry would live with them in Godric's Hollow and he would naturally take care of him. But would he ever be able to love his son?
Well, perhaps Sirius was right and it would take some time until they would get to know each other, James thought and felt a bit more confident.
It was Ginny's voice that jolted him out of his thoughts and made him aware that Ginny and her brothers had come to a halt. Ginny raised one hand and pointed to a little archway.
"We are here, Mr. Potter."
"Go," she softly added when he didn't budge.
James nodded and started moving. He went through the archway and stopped abruptly as his gaze fell on the many dark red roses.
Lily's garden!
Pain threatened to overwhelm him, but James forced it down, reminded himself why he had come here. Harry, he had to speak with Harry and exactly this he would do. He straightened and walked along the narrow pathway.
Harry was motionlessly kneeling beside a tall willow, which stood secluded from the roses at the far end of the garden. As James approached, Harry turned his head, looked at him briefly and then riveted his gaze on the grass again.
"Harry…" James started and didn't know how to go on.
While James was still searching for words, Harry said expressionlessly,
"This garden was her favourite spot. That's why the house-elves have buried Mum here, here under the tree. They've chosen well, haven't they?"
James blinked and sank to his knees next to Harry. Comprehending what Harry had just said, this place, this tree and even the soft grass that slowly moved in the wind got an invaluable significance for him. He reached out an arm and touched the rough trunk of the willow.
"Lily," he whispered and felt how tears were running down his cheeks. And yet it seemed that a certain peace came over him.
He had found his Lily again. Here, to this place he would be able to go. Here he would be able to commune with Lily.
As a hand, light as a feather, was placed on his shoulder, he became aware again that he was not alone. He looked up and froze as he stared into Harry's face. Now, where the coldness had disappeared from his eyes, they were the emerald ones of his Lily which gazed at him sadly. He searched for further similarities and suddenly grasped that Harry – apart from Lily's eyes – looked just like a younger version of himself. This time it was Harry's name he whispered, before he clasped his son in his arms.
He had loved Lily more than his life; therefore he had to love Harry, too. Harry was a part of her – of them both, he corrected himself – and everything that was left to him of Lily.
And as he realized this, as he finally understood what he hadn't wanted to understand all the previous night, a bittersweet feeling of happiness flowed through him. He was filled with gratitude and even if he knew that he would never get over Lily's loss, his grief had become more bearable. Lily lived on in Harry and for Harry's sake he would learn to accept Lily's death. He would learn to laugh again, too, and together they would eventually be happy again, some day. And as James' tears gradually dried up, he found life almost beautiful.
Harry, however, felt how his tension lessened. In the first moment he had wanted to free himself from his father's grip, but something had kept him from doing so in the end.
Perhaps it had been the deep pain that he had seen in James' eyes, perhaps the memory of his mother. Or perhaps it had just been a need for closeness, for comfort; a search for the long-lost feeling of security. And so Harry hesitantly returned the embrace of his father. His gaze riveted on the tree trunk and wandered to the small knothole, and remained there.
A wistful smile flitted across his face. As he had been a child his mother had sometimes hid presents there: sweets, little cakes and occasionally even a stuffed animal, whatever she had got from the house-elves. How much they owed the house-elves!
Whenever it had been possible for the house-elves, they had helped them. Only with their help he had managed to hide from Voldemort since that fateful day, had he been untraceable for everyone.
Of course, it had never occurred to Voldemort that the house-elves were the ones to help him.
And the tiny creatures which had adored his mother had done more. For all these years they had kept the existence of the rose garden a secret and had seen to it that the garden didn't overgrow.
Involuntarily Harry stretched out an arm and reached into the knothole. As his fingers closed around a hard object contrary to expectations, he flinched.
James let go of him and looked at him inquiringly. But Harry stared at the little, leather-bound book that he was holding in his hand. He had never seen it before. Judging by James' expression his father, however, had. He was about to open the book as a faint noise was heard.
It was Ginny, who quickly walked towards them.
The war was over. After twenty-three years the Dark Side was finally defeated. Albus Dumbledore knew that it was indeed so, but nevertheless he found it difficult to believe it. And yet it was true.
Just now Alastor had informed him that the other quarters of Voldemort that spread throughout Great-Britain had also been taken. Since the fireplaces of Voldemort's diverse hiding places had been linked, it had been quite easy for them to get in there as well as soon as they had conquered the Castle of Death.
With a smile Albus listened to the cheers of a few young Order members. Yes, they had won. Now peace would reign again at last.
"Some of those morons are talking about arresting the young Potter," a voice growled behind him and Albus turned around.
Severus pointed with his head to a small group of wizards and witches who stood close to each other and were whispering excitedly among themselves, and added,
"I thought you should know. But I don't think they will dare it."
Albus nodded pensively. He foresaw difficulties. Alastor also had told him in no uncertain terms that he considered it indispensable to arrest Harry Potter and to bring him to a place where the young wizard could not cause any damage.
Only in this way it could be prevented that soon a second Dark Lord would rise, Alastor had said. Albus had contradicted him, but he knew quite well that he hadn't been able to convince his old friend.
Sure, he had seen as well which devastating impact Harry's dark magic had caused and that this mere sixteen year old wizard was capable of such violence had shaken him severely. On the other hand they owed it only to Harry that they had defeated the Dark Side. Harry had killed the Dark Lord; Harry had told them all important information. He had neither deceived them nor had betrayed their trust, but had kept his word. Without him they would still be at war.
And now they should arrest him?
Besides they could not disregard the fact that Harry had grown up on the Dark Side. To condemn him because of that as a dark wizard who intended to take up Voldemort's place would be pretty unfair.
No, he couldn't and he wouldn't allow this to happen. He would never forgive himself, if he would not do everything in his power to prevent an arrest of Harry.
And perhaps thus he would be able to partly pay off his debt; a kind of recompense that he didn't believe James then and for abandoning Lily to her fate, without making an attempt to find out what really had happened.
Well, something would certainly occur to him. While Albus was still pondering over a strategy, his gaze fell on Harry and James who had just stepped into the hall with Ginny and three other Weasleys in tow.
Yes, Harry and James deserved it to become happy, he thought and walked towards them.
Severus Snape who had observed Albus, gazed after the leader of the Order with a knowing smile, then turned around and let his eyes wander through the hall. As they came to rest on Narcissa Malfoy who crouched on the stone floor, weeping and bound, he went over to her, kneeled down in front of her and quietly called her name.
As little Anne threw herself into the arms of her parents, Ginny smiled, happy that she had been able to keep her promise. And Katie and Cho also ran to their parents. Ginny watched them. Therefore she didn't notice until a while later that Harry didn't stand beside her anymore. She looked around and spotted him finally next to his father who just was talking with Dumbledore.
But before she could have gone to him, the cheerful voice of her mother rang out.
"I think, we can return home now," Molly said and looked at her family with shining eyes.
Ginny wanted to say goodbye to Harry, but her parents and brothers didn't leave her a chance to do so and suddenly seemed to be in a hurry. She just managed to cast a last glance at Harry, who didn't even look in her direction. Then Bill seized her arm and apparated away with her.
One moment later Ginny found herself in Hogsmeade. After her parents and all her other brothers had arrived, too, they set off to the castle and Ginny learned from the twins that her family had stayed in Hogwarts the previous night due to safety reasons.
"And Hermione is also there," Fred said.
"Hermione?" Ginny asked and looked at her brother, surprised.
"Yes. Apparently she didn't stand it to be separated from Ron," he replied with a twinkle in his eye and Ginny had to smile, though she suspected that this wasn't the only reason.
As they had reached the provisional quarters of the Weasleys, Ron stormed towards Ginny and welcomed her rapturously. Ginny laughed and clung to her youngest brother. Ron had barely let go of her, when she was already embraced by Hermione.
In the meantime Ron looked at them impatiently.
"Come on, tell us!"
Since the Weasleys told Hermione and Ron what had taken place in the former headquarter of the Dark Lord, it took a bit longer to pack everything, but finally all things were stowed away and the Weasleys and Hermione could leave Hogwarts and return to the Burrow.
Not even half an hour later Molly Weasley served her family a little feast. Charlie was the first who recovered from this unexpected sight.
"Wow, Mum, how on earth did you accomplish this?"
Molly smiled.
"As it occurred to me that we had no food in the house, I've asked the house-elves in Hogwarts whether they could not give us something. As you see they were more than generous. I thought that you would be hungry. At breakfast you ate next to nothing, after all."
"Hungry? We're starved," the twins said and grinned.
The following minutes passed in silence. Not before the Weasleys had stilled their first hunger, slowly a conversation came up. Soon Molly was listing all the things they would do this summer and the other family members, too, began making plans enthusiastically.
While her family and even Hermione were obviously in the best mood, Ginny felt somehow quite out of place. She knew that it was absurd, knew that she hadn't a cause.
She was home again. The war was over. Her family had survived; no-one of them had been hurt today. And she also had got away with only a few bruises thanks to Harry's spell. Even Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks had been rescued in time. She should brim over with happiness that they had won and that her parents and brothers would not need to risk their life each day anymore. But she didn't.
Thoughtfully she nipped at her pumpkin juice. It was not so that she was not glad and relieved, yet she didn't feel like celebrating.
How strange it was that no one mentioned the battle. They behaved as if the war had never occurred, as if the last days had never happened.
Yet the present day had also claimed victims. Ginny knew that the Order had lost only a few members, but that was no reason to just forget the wizards and witches who had given their lives today.
Suddenly Ginny could not bear it any longer. She put her glass on the table, said that she was tired and would lie down for a while and after she had given her parents a kiss, she hurried up the narrow staircase. Her room seemed strange to her. Baffled she leaned against the door. Though it had been months ago, that she had been here for the last time, she never before had felt such a feeling when she had returned home after a longer absence.
Perhaps just too much had happened in the last week, she thought and could not believe that she had been sitting in the Hogwarts train only a few days ago. The time, before, appeared not to belong to her anymore as if she had left those years definitely behind her.
She stepped to the window and opened it. As her gaze fell on the green silk sleeve of the robe Harry had given to her, she realized at last why she was so restless. She was worried about Harry. Still she saw his merciless expression in his eyes as he had fought; still she felt his blazing hot face that pressed against hers.
And she neither knew where he currently was nor what had transpired between him and Voldemort. Neither did she know what had happened in Lily Potter's rose garden.
After Bill had sent her into the rose garden to fetch Harry and James Potter, they had silently returned to the castle and then had gone to Harry's chambers. Bill and the twins had insisted on coming along and in the presence of her brothers she had of course not wanted to ask Harry any questions and on their way back Ginny had had her hands full to distract her father, who evidently had been more than angry at Harry for having cursed him and daring to take his daughter along to the battle.
Solely the fact that nothing had happened to her had probably kept him from doing something drastic. As Ginny thought of this and remembered how her family had downright prevented her from saying goodbye to Harry, she frowned. It seemed almost to her that her family had done it on purpose.
Bill's remark as he had dragged her away from Harry during the fight came to her mind and all of a sudden she was certain that Bill had meant Harry with his words.
With a sigh she sat down on her bed. Yawning, she curled up on her colourful blanket, amazed that she really was tired. Blaming the previous night for her exhaustion, she closed her eyes. But instead of falling asleep, she thought of Harry and wondered when she would see him again. He would surely not stay in the Castle of Death, but would most likely move in with his father.
Hopefully Harry and James would get along well. She wished with all her heart that Harry would find a home in Godric's Hollow.
Would Harry visit her? Or write a letter to her? Remembering how Harry had just left her side in the Great Hall, doubts assailed her. She opened her eyes and snuggled up tighter in her blanket. Suddenly she was cold.
Did Harry even love her at all? What if he had only seen a means to an end in her? What if he had only needed her to convince the Order of his intentions?
But no, that were foolish thoughts. Angry at herself she fluffed up her pillow and resolved to write Harry a letter tomorrow.
Now she didn't want to think anymore, she was too tired for it. In addition she had a headache. Her thoughts, however, had a mind of their own and wandered back to Harry.
I love you, Harry, she thought, just before she finally drifted off to sleep.
Dusk was already falling as Harry stood in the garden of Godric's Hollow and regarded the little house that would be his home from now an. That his mother had lived here once was a comforting thought and confirmed him in his belief that he had made the right decision. If he had had the time to think about his future, he surely would not have been surprised as his father had told him that he took it for granted that he would live in Godric's Hollow.
So, however, James' words had hit him completely unprepared and thus he also hadn't known how to react. Of course, his father had taken his silence as consent.
But he hadn't had a choice, anyway, had he? Where else should he have gone to? And in the castle he absolutely hadn't wanted to stay.
With an imperceptible sigh Harry turned away and sauntered towards the bench. Well, he would wait how things would develop. Godric's Hollow was no prison, after all. He would be able to leave it at any time. But it was worth a try and so he would stay for the present.
Harry sat down on the bench and looked at the magnificent red roses. Lost in thought he gazed at them. At last he had avenged the death of his mother and yet he still felt no triumph, no satisfaction. Instead, long forgotten memories urged to the surface. He recalled how happy he had been when the Dark Lord had given him his first wand, remembered how eagerly he had learned the spells Lucius Malfoy had taught him and how proud he had been as he had performed one spell and Bella had loudly applauded. And now they were dead. He had killed them.
Abruptly Harry leaped up, marched through the garden and furiously ran a hand across his forehead. He didn't want to remember, didn't want to think back to his childhood.
Involuntarily he yearned for Ginny, wished to hold her in his arms. If she only would be here with him now...
How much she had helped him and he hadn't even thanked her nor had he been able to say goodbye to her. As he had noticed that Ginny and her family had left the castle it had been already too late.
Harry looked up to the setting sun, whispered her name and stopped dead in his tracks. That he loved her he also hadn't told her. Yes, he loved her and still he was as astonished as he had been this morning when she had confessed her love for him and he had realized all of a sudden that he loved her as well.
Warmth enveloped him and he smiled. The mere thought of her drove away the coldness and the memories. She would not betray him, he thought, went towards the bench and sat down again. As soon as possible he would visit Ginny. His father surely knew where she lived.
And whatever the future might bring, one chapter of his life was closed. The heir of the Dark Lord didn't exist anymore. Never again would he use dark magic. Recalling how he had lost himself in his magic, he shuddered. Still he was deeply frightened how the control over his magic had slipped away from him. Never before had something similar happened to him.
If the vase had not broken, if Ginny had not suddenly stood in front of him and shouted his name, he didn't want to imagine what would have happened then. No, he admonished himself sternly, he would not think about that. It was over. And it would never happen again.
Harry leaned back and riveted his attention on the sunset. As he shifted a bit to the right to have better view, his arm brushed against the object in his pocket and he remembered the little book that he had found in the rose garden of his mother. He fetched it out and regarded it. Curiously he opened it. On the first page a name stood, in faded writing:
Patricia Avenquay
Deciding to ask his father later who that had been, he leafed through the pages. The book contained spells, as he noticed. He had approximately come to the middle, when his eye fell on a dried rose which was lying between two pages. He picked it up and gazed down on the black lines.
Shortly afterwards he laid the fragile rose cautiously back and stared at it, paralyzed.
"Harry?"
Not before his father said his name for the second time, Harry looked up. James sat down beside him and pointed to the small book.
"It belonged to my mother. Her family descended from Salazar Slytherin, at least this was said. My mother, however, always laughed about this. She never believed that the book belonged to Slytherin once, although there is a snake on the cover. But I believe the rumours are true. After my marriage, she gave the book to Lily."
When Harry didn't reply anything and merely gazed at his hands, James gave his son a searching look.
"What's wrong, Harry?"
Harry hesitated, but then he wordlessly handed James the open book. James took it and begun to read. As he realized what was written there and grasped the meaning of the words, he closed his eyes. Grief-stricken he remained so, while clutching the booklet so hard that it hurt. Now he knew why Harry had survived Voldemort's Killing Curse. With the spell he just had read Lily had saved Harry's life and in return had given her own.
Only when he heard Harry's broken voice, he opened his eyes again.
"I killed her. It wasn't Voldemort, but me. It was me and I killed him for that!"
Harry started to laugh and James didn't think much. He seized Harry's shoulders and turned him around to him.
"Harry! I loved Lily more than my life and she was my wife. I knew her, like you never have. So you will listen to me now very closely: Since this disastrous war has started, Lily fought for peace. She joined the Order and did everything in her power to defeat Voldemort and his followers.
Regardless of any danger, she would have rather risked her life than to sit at home and doing nothing at all while around her the world was going to collapse. Lily was a brave, strong-willed woman, Harry, who wanted to prevent you from becoming a dark wizard and following Voldemort at all costs. And believe me, nothing would have kept her from doing so."
James stopped and looked at Harry emphatically.
"It was not your fault, Harry. Voldemort would have killed her anyway, if you hadn't thrown yourself in between.
I know how it is to be crushed by feelings of guilt. Lily was my wife. Instead of giving up, I should have tried to attack Voldemort's castle, I should have found a way for Heaven's sake to rescue her and you. I didn't however. And as much as it hurts me to say it, but perhaps everything was supposed to happen just like it did in the end. Who knows, if we had indeed tried to attack the castle earlier, perhaps all of us would have been killed.
Be that as it may, one thing is certain: Lily would not have wanted it that we both reproach ourselves. She would have wanted us to be happy, Harry. As she realized that her spell had functioned and you survived Voldemort's Killing Curse, she was radiant with joy. She was happy, Harry. You made her happy. Never forget this."
Harry looked at him and finally nodded. And as James drew him close and Harry tiredly leaned his head on his shoulder, there James knew that one day he would love his son.
