Summary – It's been a year since Voldemort was defeated by Harry. Most of the Wizarding community has moved on, but for those who were personally involved it's a bit harder. Then a something surprising arrives and Harry realises he's going to have a whole lot more to deal with now. "Why would The Daily Prophet be saying anything about Harry?"
Disclaimer – Rowling lives on the opposite side of the world from me. You actually can't get much further away from my home than she is right now. So out of all the people in the world, I most definitely cannot claim to own Harry Potter or anything else in the wizarding world.
Notes – Minor language warning here!
Huge big thanks to all my readers! JediKeladry (Lily was dead, the real question is why is she alive again?), vero (we'll get to that, but right now I get the feeling that Lily's repressing a little), amrawo (hope I don't disappoint!), korrd (not married no, just dating), Kazaam's Mom, Willow Ann Rover, Jenn (I hope you like this better), Pleione, 2InsanitiesIn1, Julia (I just like to mix things up a little – glad it's interesting).
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When Ginny found Harry, he had been standing in what was Sirius' old room. The room had not been changed since Sirius had lived in there, although it was a great deal tidier. Someone, most likely Mrs. Weasley, had done a good job in here. But Harry could still sense his godfather in here as if Sirius had never died.
There were pictures of Harry on the dresser, both as a baby and a clipping from The Daily Prophet during the Triwizard tournament. There were also pictures from Harry's parents wedding, displaying James, Lily, Sirius, Lupin, other members of the Order of the Phoenix, and even Peter. A picture of the Marauders, who were chasing each other around the grounds of Hogwarts. Sirius had never been the sentimental type, but Harry guessed there were a few things even he needed to remember sometimes. The young man reflected that with as much darkness and pain that had existed in Sirius' life, he must have needed to know that there were times when everything was not as bleak as they once were.
Harry looked over the pictures of his parents and Sirius, ignoring Peter. He still hated that Peter had betrayed his parents, but the rat had been dead for eighteen months now, so Harry tried not to notice. Particularly, he studied his mother. The picture was familiar to him, he had seem it often enough in his own album, he knew every line and trace of her face and his father's, but still he looked harder, trying to figure out how she could refuse to have anything to do with him.
"She's had a big shock," said a soft voice from the door. "It can't be easy waking up to find the baby you thought you had is now an adult. Not to mention the way she died. Give her time, Harry."
He looked up at Ginny, standing in her pyjamas. At some point, she had fetched a robe and had wrapped it around herself. It was not a cold night, but nor was it particularly warm.
She glided over to him, standing beside him, but not touching him, and looked down at the picture in his hands. She too was familiar with it. Not as much as him, but she had seen it before more than once. After a few minutes she took the picture from him and replaced it on the dresser, before turning back to him and gently taking his hands in hers, gripping them firmly, rubbing his icy fingers with her warm ones. He let her comfort him in this way, it was why he loved Ginny – she always knew what he needed, when he needed to be alone, or when he needed her to be with him, hold him and tell him he'd be all right. How could he have missed this when he was at school, for so long?
Harry wrapped his arms around her, and buried his face in her hair, smelling her sweet scent. She held him tightly, and rubbed his back. Few people knew how alone he felt all the time, but Ginny did, and he was always warmed by her presence. Silently, he let a few tears fall, knowing that he was with the one person to whom it was safe to do so in front of.
"She loved you, Harry. Still does I bet, but she's scared – wouldn't you be? She feels like she can't trust anything around her. You lived in the war, you know what it's like to realise that suddenly you can't trust the people you thought you could, and everything falls around your feet."
"But why does she have to say I'm not her son?" he asked, feeling ridiculous for doing so.
"She's in shock. Give her a little bit, let Lupin explain to her – you know he's good at that, and then go and see her again. Let her get used to the idea that the baby she left yesterday is the 'Chosen One' who destroyed Voldemort for good."
They sat together on Sirius' bed, quietly for a long time, not speaking, but Ginny holding Harry, offering him silent comfort, and he sat beside her lost in thought. Finally, he sighed.
"I need to go see her again," he said softly.
"She may not be ready yet," Ginny pointed out.
"I know, but I need to see her again."
"All right." She stood and took his hand and together they walked back to the room where his mother was currently staying.
At the door he could hear his mother and Lupin talking and he opened the door quietly to find her sitting on the bed, nibbling at some food – Mrs. Weasley had obviously been up and about – trying to wrap her mind around what Lupin was saying.
"What's happened?" she was asking in despair.
"Voldemort—" Lupin began.
"Is dead and gone," Harry announced and Lily looked up sharply, apparently unaware that he had arrived. Lupin, with his sensitive wolf hearing wouldn't have missed it, and looked up slowly, giving Harry a slight nod. Lily's eyes slid to Ginny, possibly wondering who she was. Harry carried on, wanting to clarify his statement. "For real this time."
"For real?" his mother rolled the words off her tongue, sounding confused, and Harry didn't blame her. He found it a difficult concept at times. But he'd destroyed every last Horcrux, and then Voldemort himself, so he could be sure.
"The night you and James were killed, he disappeared, defeated. Most people believed he was dead," Lupin said. "But he rose again. He was destroyed, completely, about a year ago."
Lupin glanced at Harry, questioning, but Harry could give him no answer, he didn't know if he wanted his mother to know everything that had happened with Voldemort. She seemed to having trouble accepting things as they were, he didn't want to add to her confusion.
"I'll leave you alone, should I?" Ginny asked, and Harry looked at her, grateful. She kissed Harry on the cheek and turned to leave. "I'll see you in the morning, Harry." As much as he appreciated the comfort she could give this was something he needed to do without her.
"'Night Ginny," he answered absentmindedly.
His mother was watching Ginny, with surprise on her face and he wondered what she was thinking, but decided it didn't matter. He turned to look at her and gazed back, pain and curiosity warring on her face.
"Hello Harry," she said softly, and something burst inside of him. Had he been any younger, been through even a little less grief, he might have run to her, but too many people had left him in his short life and he stayed where he was for a moment.
"Hello, Mum," he said softly.
"May I see you better, Harry?" she asked, and he nodded and stepped out of the shadowy doorway into the still dim light of the room.
She looked at him for several long minutes and tears filled her eyes. "You look so much like your father," she whispered. In recent years, Harry had heard that particular phrase so many times that he was now inclined to snap back a quick retort. But he squashed his impulse, not wanting to hurt his mother.
"So they tell me," he said softly instead, and caught a brief glance at Lupin's approving face. He had heard Harry's often rude comments before, and was probably glad that he had refrained himself this time.
"I'm sorry, about before," she told him softly. "It's just hard to believe that you are so grown up now, when the last time I saw you were—"
"—a baby. I know. It's all right," he reassured her, although it wasn't really all right. It would be though, so he considered the point moot. Sitting back down in the chair beside her, he folded his hands in his lap.
"Are you, all right?" he asked.
"I don't know," she answered. "Everything is different, changed. I suppose there's been so much that has happened, especially if Voldemort has been defeated – twice. And your father…" her voice trailed off painfully for a moment and Harry realised that although he had lived with his parents death almost his entire life, for his mother her husband had only just been brutally murdered by Voldemort.
Gently, he reached out and gripped her hand. Her fingers curled around his, and she gave him a grateful look as she visibly pulled herself together. Across the bed, Lupin gave Harry a small smile.
"Perhaps if we explained to you what happened, if you're not too tired…" Lupin said softly.
"I think that would be a good idea," Lily managed.
"As I explained, Voldemort was believed destroyed when you died. But Harry here lived." The Boy Who Lived. "Dumbledore thought it best that Harry go and live with your sister—"
"What!" hissed Harry's mother. "He thought it was best to send my baby to that small-minded bitch, her idiot husband and that spoiled brat?" Harry was shocked at the language, although he couldn't disagree with the sentiment. "What about Sirius – his godfather? That was what our Will said, Remus. Why didn't Harry go to Sirius?"
Lupin looked helpless for a moment, small and old, and Harry could see him wondering how to tell Lily what had happened to Sirius. So Harry stepped in.
"He couldn't have me because he was in Azkaban."
"Azkaban? Why was he there?" she asked, and then Harry could see the dawning comprehension. "They thought it was him," she said heavily. "They thought he betrayed us when it was really—"
"—Peter," Harry finished for her. "Yeah, we found out after Sirius escaped." He still felt a mixture of burning rage and grief at thought of all the time he had lost with his godfather, everything that had been stolen from him first by Peter Pettigrew then by Bellatrix Lestrange.
"He escaped from Azkaban?" Lily's voice was incredulous, but the way she squeezed Harry's hand let him know she hadn't missed his pain.
Quickly, Lupin explained what had happened and how Sirius had escaped and the year that had followed, ending with Sirius underground and Harry back at his aunt and uncle's.
"Where's Sirius now?"
When neither answered, her eyes filled with tears again, and this time so did Harry's. "How?" she whispered.
"Bellatrix Lestrange killed him," Lupin said, sadly. "He died bravely, the way he would have wanted to go, but…" he trailed off, not needing to say more. Sirius shouldn't have had to die, certainly not like that.
A long time passed, until any of them were able to speak, but at last Lily found her voice. "What about Voldemort? What happened? And Dumbledore?"
Harry picked up the story once again. "Voldemort rose again at the end of my fourth year." He did not bother with explaining the Triwizard tournament, or Cedric Diggory's death, or the spectres he'd seen during his confrontation with the Dark Lord. "For a long time no one believed us. They were too afraid." Harry didn't try to keep the scorn out of his voice.
"Us?"
"Me and Dumbledore and the rest of the Order."
"They thought Harry was making it up, that he was going crazy."
"Why would anyone think that? And why would Harry know more than anyone?" Lily asked.
"Because I was there when he was defeated the first time, he needed me to complete the ritual to bring him back to life properly. No one believed them because of what The Daily Prophet had been saying about me." And the Ministry of Magic wondered why he still wouldn't help them.
"Why would The Daily Prophet be saying anything about Harry?"
"Harry's gathered quite a reputation in his life, starting with Voldemort's first death. In the year leading up to Voldemort's rebirth, he managed to annoy one of the Prophet's writers so much that the things she was printing made him look bad. Then as no one wanted to believe Voldemort was back, despite evidence to the contrary, well, he was discredited and so was Dumbledore."
"So Voldemort was back and no one really cared?" Lily was aghast.
"Yeah," said Harry. "Sirius had to die before they believed. And then they cleared his name too." His lip curled, and Lupin sent him a warning look.
"Then what, how did they destroy Voldemort, and what happened to Dumbledore – did he kill Voldemort?"
"No," said Harry, but didn't say more.
"Dumbledore was killed by Snape. We've never been completely sure why. Snape took his secrets to the grave. For years Dumbledore told us Snape could be trusted, but from what we can tell he then made an unbreakable oath to Narcissa Malfoy to protect her son, and in order to keep that he killed Dumbledore. We think he personally sabotaged some of Voldemort's protection before he was killed for his betrayal." Harry glowered but said nothing. He would never forgive Snape.
"But how could Snape kill Dumbledore? Sure he was powerful, but not that powerful."
Lupin sent a look at Harry, before answering – even here Harry had never given everyone all the answers. "Dumbledore was severely injured in the war, enough that his defences were weakened. Some even say that he allowed Snape to do it—"
"They weren't there. They didn't see it happen!" hissed Harry.
"Of course, some have a different opinion," Lupin finished.
"Harry?" asked Lily softly, but Harry was shaking it off, it was a long time ago now. Two years was more than enough time. Lupin was right: Snape was dead. What had Hermione said a few months ago? Let the dead bury the dead.
Lily sighed. "What happened to Voldemort?" she asked quietly, and Harry despite knowing the question would come up closed his eyes, and looked down.
"There's only one person who can tell us about that day," Lupin said quietly, sadly. "But for reasons of his own, he has yet to do so. All evidence points to the Dark Lord being dead and gone. Now we just have to wait for the one who defeated him to be ready to say what happened that day."
"Who?" Lily asked in all innocence.
Harry didn't respond, and Lupin remained silent, although Harry could feel his old teacher's eyes resting heavily on him. It was true what Lupin said. He had told parts of what had happened that day, mostly to Ron or Hermione, but the bulk of the details he kept to himself.
"Remus?" Lily asked again, this time there was a weight in her tone, like she suspected.
"He will tell us when he is ready, Lily. But right now, Harry has his own reasons for keeping those secrets."
The startled gasp told Harry that this mother understood what Lupin had just said. Her fingers tightened around his hands almost painfully. Harry kept his eyes steadily down, not looking up, not knowing how.
"Harry?" asked his mother. "Harry?"
His tongue was made of lead and his body had been turned to stone, so Harry Potter could not say anything or even look up. It always happened like this, when someone asked him how he stopped Voldemort, Harry's jaw would lock, and his mind would go blank. He knew what happened – the images were vivid, but he could not tell anyone else, nor did he want to tell anyone else. They were better off without those nightmares.
"Harry will tell us when he's ready, Lily." Lupin repeated. "We can't ask more than that."
"Harry?" she asked gently. But he still couldn't look up. "Harry, look at me," she said gently.
Slowly, feeling as though there were weights on his neck, he lifted his head to look into his mother's eyes. In her face, he only saw compassion and sorrow. There was no accusation and if she felt any curiosity she hid it carefully.
"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Harry. I'm sorry you had to do it on your own." She reached out her free hand and brushed his cheek.
Tears were gathering in his eyes, but Harry refused to cry. "You couldn't have done anything. Dumbledore said that only two people could have chosen what would happen and that was me and Voldemort. Voldemort chose to kill you and Dad, when he didn't have to. By doing that he turned me into his enemy. I didn't have to choose to fight him, but I did, and when I did, one of us had to die."
That was no more than he'd told Ron or Hermione, or even Ginny, but it was more than Lupin had known, more than anyone else had known. He remembered the words from when Dumbledore had helped him to that realisation all those years ago, and new it was only right that he told is mother.
To Lupin's credit he gave no sign that Harry's words might have disturbed him, although Harry was sure they had. Lupin had always been careful to stay out of arguments about Harry and whether or not he was old enough to fight, much to Mrs. Weasley and Sirius' annoyance. Harry suspected Lupin had simply decided that Dumbledore knew what he was doing, and let things move at Dumbledore's pace. Lupin had probably been there simply to moderate between Sirius' policy for telling everything, and Molly Weasley's policy to not tell anything.
Maybe one day Harry would find the courage to tell everything he knew.
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