A/N: I tell you what, COVID reall messed with my motivation to write. I can't write cooped up at home. Hopefully we find a way out with destorying ourselves, if you're struggling, talk to someone. Don't wallow as I do, for weeks I thought about this fic, yet wrote nothing down until Lockdown was lifted. Be better than I was. please.
With that sad note out of the way.
Lets continue!
Paths Chosen Paths Walked
It sure felt like a long day. Or maybe it was part of the male existence, some intangible part of them that experienced shopping as an inexplicable dilation of space-time. Most likely though, it was because Hermione had reached a new level of fussiness over him. Not that he minded, but his distraction did perturb her quite often, leading to her almost frog-marching him around each shop. The only problem was that the closeness that accompanies frog-marching made him even more distracted. Staring might have drawn suspicion, so he instead stole furtive glances when he thought he could get away with it.
He did mostly. Well, not really. The girl in question just grew frustrated with him, the adults meanwhile would share knowing looks. Sirius's teasing had begun as soon as the Grangers were gone, Remus had settled for smirking instead.
It was nice, in how normal it seemed. It still embarrassed him half to death though. He'd do it all again to be close to her, and the frustration she exhibited was achingly familiar. Whenever she liked something he tried on, it filled him with happiness. She might have decried his colour choices that were either muted and black, but it gave him confidence to know that someone of the opposite sex found him attractive.
With the right clothes on at least.
It was made all the better by the fact that it was her opinion, it actually mattered to him.
Even now, he was still reeling at just how different, yet familiar she looked. How had he lost sleep over Cho when his closest friend looked the way that she did when she smiled at him? Despite the ache of the loss of his other best friend, smiles were shared at the odd memory of Ron that came up. Those smiles were small though, nothing compared to the other ones he'd seen that day. It could have been a perfect day without Greyback's intervention.
Not that the infamous Werewolf aimed to put a dampener on his day, that was Voldemort's job. Nevertheless, he did it by accident, a simple wrong place at the wrong time kind of occurrence. That seemed to be his lot in life; to have seemingly simple days turned upside down.
He didn't mourn the loss of what would have been a day of chrished normality for him. For she had smiled at him, not for something he did, but for who and what he was. Was it greedy of him to want her around all the time to see that smile? Did it even mean anything? Was he just happy that she was happy?
"Fuck." He let his head fall back against the shelves behind him with a dull thud. Obviously his brain wasn't capable of handling so many questions at once.
Sirius had left for the Ministry to 'Pick up the girl who said no the first time' as he had put it. He really didn't want to even know what that meant, his godfather had the annoying ability to intertwine jokes and truth so they were indistinguishable. He really should have been downstairs waiting for their return, but after killing two people earlier that day he needed some time alone to process it.
It was hard not to compare what he'd done to Ron to them, but it scared him how easy it was. How quickly it can end, the Killing Curse missed him by only inches after all. After thinking about it, he'd come to realise he didn't regret his decision and spell choice. He had the time, and it worked against the fodder, they obviously had to protect the person they kidnapped so Ollivander was actually somewhat safe. In the end he had to be thankful for the fear Voldemort's followers had of their leader.
It was most likely why he was still alive now.
His maudlin thoughts were interrupted by the Library door creaking open a bit wider.
Amelia Bones's visage was as controlled as it had been in Diagon Alley. "Mr. Potter, are you well?"
He rubbed the now sore part of his head where it had contacted the solid bookcase. His surprise at her appearance muted by his previous thoughts. "As well as I can be."
Her eyes tightened. "Just say you're well so we can move away from formalities."
He couldn't hold in the snort. She looked the epitome of order and rules in her Ministerial Robes, yet her answer undercut it all. "I'm well, Sirius is annoying but he cares about me." He replied through a smile.
She visibly relaxed, the lines disappeared from her forehead and eyes. "Good. I'd like to talk about today if that's alright." He shrugged and gestured towards the ancient-looking armchair adjacent to him. He couldn't deny his curiosity. Once she was seated, she peered at him for an almost uncomfortable length of time before coming to her senses. "Apologies Mr. Potter, Sometimes it's hard to fathom that you are the same age as my niece."
He simply nodded, he'd long been jealous of his peers' obscurity and normality.
"While I'm glad that you are an extraordinary wizard so young, I'd much rather we be able to do our jobs properly."
He nodded again, he didn't feel too dissimilar himself
"I also have to thank you for what you did. I can worry a little less about Susan knowing she's actually competent in defending herself."
He blinked at the sudden shift in conversation, then sunk into his own armchair, the praise uncomfortable. "I just showed them a few spells."
"And how to use them properly, and I'm not going to gloss over the fact that she can now produce a Corporeal Patronus, at sixteen. You adapted your own experience, which is regrettably substantial, and taught your peers what five years of education hadn't. That is something you can be proud of."
She wasn't wrong. He cracked a smile. "Thanks."
She nodded then frowned at him. "I just hope you didn't teach them the first spell you used today."
"No, I only learnt that one recently."
She glanced around at the oppressive room of books around them. "I see." She looked past him, obviously her mind elsewhere. After a few moments, her sharp gaze returned to him. "The only good thing about Crouch was that our Auror's could kill rather than capture. Should I petition to bring it back?"
"Yes." He answered immediately. "They need to be afraid of us."
"They do." She nodded. "Ironically though, they seem to be more afraid of you than the whole Auror Department."
He shrugged. "It's my life. It's all I have."
She looked sharply at him. "No, you have others that care about you. That's what I saw today."
He held his tongue, thinking about the Prophecy.
She seemed to take his silence as disagreement. "I'd rather not see you become the darkness to defeat it. Alastor may have been my mentor, but he is a broken man. The darkness has a hold upon what was once a good man. Auror's are paid to defeat evil, it's better they suffer, than you." She sighed. "That's why I have to ask that you petition for the old law to return. It will be the last bill I will put to the Wizengamot before I become Minister, and your voice will make a difference."
He sighed. "So that's why you're here."
Her lips twitched, a knowing look in her eye. "Among other things. It pains me to do this Mr. Potter, but I'm afraid I have to. I'll always hold you in great esteem for what you've done, but this could save innocent lives. And I'm nothing but dedicated to my job."
He couldn't help but smirk, Sirius had said the same thing. "Sure, the next time I get an insufferable reporter in my face, I'll mention it."
She smiled at him warmly, looking more like a parental figure than the next Minister and ex Auror. "Thank you Mr. Potter, the less innocents that resort to what you did in your confrontation with Bellatrix Lestrange, the better."
He stared at her. How did she know?
"Don't worry Mr. Potter, If anyone deserves it, it's her."
He breathed a sigh of relief. "Harry."
Her smile was genuine. "Harry."
...
When the clock on the mantle - replacing the murderous Grandfather Clock in the hall - struck nine, Harry looked up. The noise distracted him from his thoughts once more. They'd just told Amelia about the Prophecy, giving her the 'why' to make sense of the Ministry Six's break in in June. Somehow, the Prophet coining him 'The Chosen One' wasn't too far off from the truth.
Only once he told her the whole thing, did he realise he hadn't told Remus and Sirius the specifics of the blasted orb yet. He chanced a glance at both, Remus had the look of a man that had finally put the pieces together. Sirius looked both devastated and determined, his gaze was on the far wall.
He, meanwhile, thought it capped things off neatly. Now all three of them knew they would not survive the coming war, both of them were thinking along the same lines. At least that's what he thought they were, Remus had all but admitted it, Sirius had merely told him he would put his life before theirs.
An image of the remaining Marauders flanking him, battling their hardest in full glory against Voldemort appeared in his head. He liked the image. Even if it did remind him that he needed to get back to training, he couldn't let them down.
He returned his attention to the conversation as it had restarted while he was thinking.
Sirius looked to be thinking over something Amelia had said. "I'll have to look into any properties we have, just in case."
She nodded solemnly, it went without saying that their enemy had a head start, and that the Ministry was not ready.
"We'll have to develop a plan to root out spies in the Ministry, something like-" Began Amelia, before she was cut off by a startled squeak from Dobby.
The elf had been innocuously stoking the fire before he straightened and squeaked: "Miss Grangy!" Harry understood immediately, considering the correspondence they'd shared in the past. She wouldn't call him for nothing. Just as the elf tensed to apparate away, he lunged at him knocking over the coffee table, grasping his arm just as they both moved through a world of darkness and suffocation.
They appeared in a darkened bedroom, he turned at the surprised shriek and found a pajama-clad Hermione with a wand in hard. He was about to say something before he heard the thuds of multiple spells crashing against the wards he presumed Dumbledore had set up. "Where are they?" He growled out, as adrenaline coursed through his body.
Hermione, uncharacteristically didn't answer and made to lead them out before he grabbed her shoulder and held her back. "Get them." He snapped at her. Suddenly a wave of magic swept through him, signifying that the wards had been breached, and a Human Revealing Charm to boot. He led them out onto the landing just as the front door was blasted open, the three that entered merely stood in shock at his unexpected presence. The entirely mute standoff was almost ridiculous as Hermione and Dobby scurried away behind him.
Five years of seeing their hulking shapes in robes gave him all the evidence he needed. Crabbe and Goyle. The other taller one - who he didn't recognise - cast the first spell, which he blocked. It kicked his classmates into action, both casting clumsily, but powerfully.
He shielded desperately against the flurry of spells, but he didn't need much time, Dobby and Hermione should have found her parents by now. The only problem was getting to them without catching a curse in the back. One of his Diffindo's forced the taller Goyle to bump into Crabbe as he dodged it, throwing them both off balance.
It was the opening he was looking for.
He gestured towards the wall beside him with left hand and wand, ripping a two metre square chunk of wall out, sending it towards the group at the bottom of the stairs. "Duro!" He cried at the chunk and created a shield at the top of the landing for good measure. He turned and sprinted towards where he guessed the master bedroom was and found a wide-eyed Helen, Richard and Hermione clutching onto the little elf. The instant he grasped the elf's left arm, just below Hermione's hand, Dobby tensed and they disappeared into the oppressive, suffocating and now comforting darkness once more.
…
They appeared in a heap upon the sitting room floor, the rest rose but Harry remained on the floor breathing hard. They might have only been in her house for a minute, but it felt far longer than that.
He stared unseeingly at the opposite couch, until a voice broke into his jumbled thoughts. "What in the fuck are you doing Harry!" Growled Sirius who was standing next to the couch he was looking at. .
He ignored his godfather, and rolled himself upright, still on the floor but leaning against the couch. He looked at Amelia. "Send some Auror's to Hermione's place."
She nodded mutely and sent a patronus off through the wall.
Remus laid a hand on Sirius's shoulder quietning him, but it didn't hold back the venomous glare his godfather sent his way.
Remus, satisfied, released Sirius and approached Hermione's parents. "Mr. and Mrs. Granger? Are you hurt?"
Mr. Granger accepted the handshake, while Mrs. Granger did so distractedly as she was looking between Harry and Sirius. "We're fine, thank you."
"Tea?" Remus offered. Both Granger's accepted and Mrs. Granger called for Hermione to join them, which she did after sending an odd look at Harry. Leaving himself and Sirius alone with Amelia as the others headed to the kitchen down the hall.
Sirius remained standing, the picture of fury. Amelia remained sitting, looking curiously between the two. He remained sitting on the floor, shaking slightly with the leftover adrenaline in his system. "Do you have any idea…" Sirius looked lost for words in his anger, breathing hard, jaw set. "Never. Ever. Pull that shit again!"
He didn't answer, still coming to terms with the knowledge that Crabbe and Goyle would actually attempt to kill Hermione. The instant he came to terms with it, he felt disgusted. He should have ended them the moment he had the opportunity to, together, they were barely worth one Wizard. He was sure he could have taken the three of them if the Granger's didn't wait around for him.
"Are you even listening!-" Spat Sirius before he was interrupted by a Lynx Patronus bursting through the wall and settling on the couch next to Amelia - Who hadn't said a word so far.
Kingsley's voice came from the feline's mouth. "Castle Bones was attacked, the elves are dead. Do not return there. I will collect Susan from the Abbott Manor and meet you in the conference room." The Patronus faded leaving the woman with a shocked look upon her face.
Her face then set instantly and she stood, regarding them both imperiously. "May I use your floo Sirius?"
He waved a hand mutely in acceptance and she used the fire, in a roar of emerald flames she was gone, leaving the room's occupants stunned into silence.
Harry's mind raced, the attacks he'd read about in the Prophet weren't merely something he just read about anymore. Madame Bones as well, what if she wasn't here? Who had attacked her? She seemed competent enough, infinitely more so that Fudge had ever been. If Voldemort was scared of her becoming Minister, then he was going to support her. To stick the metaphorical middle-finger up at the nose-less bastard. He snorted at his own thoughts, he really had been reading too much lately. Bigger words were leaking into his thoughts and words.
She would be proud. He thought. He then instantly wondered why Remus had separated them. He then caught sight of a slightly less seething Sirius. Ah.
"Whatever wards were on that house were next to useless." He began in an attempt to explain himself. "Only Dobby got me there in time."
Sirius seemed to accept his point, but the man still visibly seethed. "Never go haring off on your own again." The ex-convict ran a hand over his face before continuing. "I'm here to help you Harry, you think I'm going to hold you back?"
He shrunk into himself on the floor involuntarily. He hadn't actually thought his godfather was serious about the fight. He'd still believed that they would lock him up to keep him safe, like Dumbledore and the Dursleys. Even if the Dursleys locked him up to protect themselves, the result was still the same. Like Mrs. Weasley keeping him locked OUT of Order meetings last summer. Everyone seemed to look at him like the age he was rather than what he'd done and what he'd been through.
He nodded in reply.
Sirius gave a great sigh and sat next to him on the floor. "I can't very well watch your back when I'm not there can't I?"
It made sense to him, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. It ran against almost everything he'd learnt in the last decade of his life. To fill the silence, he said something he couldn't get out of his head. "It was Crabbe and Goyle." He said in muted wonder.
Sirius grunted in agreement. "Plus an older one?"
He nodded.
Sirius nodded in return. "Yep, It was a training raid. She would have put up a fight, but ultimately she would have died. Or worse."
A surge of hatred followed his quick conclusion about the last two words he godfather had spoken. "Because of her parents."
Sirius grunted in agreement once more, and thoughts of Crabbe and Goyle doing that to her filled his mind. He felt sick.
"It happens to muggles too, but we don't care because they aren't one of us." Sirius observed blandly. It was a stark statement about the Wizarding Community, and Harry was mesmerised by it. The brutality and shocking nature of honesty, but Sirius wasn't finished. "We never care, until it happens to someone we care about. It's wrong, but it's normal." He gave a sigh. "That's why you are so famous. You inadvertently saved so many. Thousands you had no right to care about, it's special."
Harry hummed in agreement, except he didn't fully agree with his godfather. "Mum saved them all, not me, I'm nothing special."
Sirius threw an arm around the teen. "You have a point. Lily was the best of all of us. You are special though Harry, even if you discount what happened before you were two. You faced him and lived, you saved me, you drove off a hundred Dementors… What I'm saying is, you CAN be special. Embrace it, bring your dreams to life. If you can do that, you've won. THAT, is special."
"I don't have any dreams. I just want to be normal."
Sirius shrugged. "Then that's your dream. My dream died with Marlene, you need to fight for your dream, if nothing else."
He nodded vaguely, the same image of him and Hermione on the couch in front of the fireplace came to mind once more. He looked into the real fire over Sirius's shoulder, it wasn't the same.
Sirius stood, wordlessly giving him a hand up and they then both made their way to the Kitchen. They found the Elder Granger's flanking their daughter while seated at the dilapidated table. Remus sat on the opposite side, sipping tea while scrawling something on a piece of parchment.
He went to sit next to Remus and opposite Hermione, she was watching Dobby dart around the Kitchen. She looked up as the pair entered and looked questioningly between the two. He gave her a look that meant they would talk about it later and helped himself to some tea.
Sirius meanwhile fairly bounded into the room. "I assume Remus lacked the manners and followed protocol that states that 'guests' cannot welcome other guests to their host's home." Remus snorted over his parchment. "I therefore, humbly welcome you to quite possibly the most depressing home you will ever have the displeasure to visit! Twelve Grimmauld Place, London!"
Richard stood and bowed over the table. "Thank you, Lord Black."
Sirius stood limply, surprised. "What?-" He caught sight of Hermione smirking at him. "Oh, that'd be right." He took the seat next to Harry. "I assume this will become a… thing." He said to her.
Harry cut in. "I think you forget just who she is, Padfoot."
His godfather waved this away with a grin. "Either way, it's rude."
"Padfoot?" Helen asked the table.
"Oh god." Mumbled Harry and Hermione simultaneously as Sirius brightened, pushing the chair back and transformed into Padfoot. Both Granger's looked suitably impressed, and Sirius returned to human form, looking happier than before.
Remus, perhaps wanting to change the subject, spoke up. "Are you going to tell us what happened, Harry?"
Thus began an exhaustive account of what have been a total of sixty seconds spent in the Granger household. With some clarification, the knowledge of classmates trying to kill each other darkened the mood around the table. He also felt guilty about destroying part of their house, Sirius waved this away, saying that it was easily replaceable. He also observed that. "If they had a shred of intelligence they wouldn't burn the house to the ground and use it as a trap."
"We'll have to wait for Madame Bones to get back to us." Replied Remus as he put aside the parchment.
"Either way." Continued Sirius. "It's much safer if you all stay here, we can go collect possessions - if there are any left - and move them here."
"And our work?" Helen asked.
Remus replied. "It would be more prudent to close indefinitely or sell it. I understand it would be difficult but you would be much safer with some sort of wizarding magical protection, Wards - as you saw - can't keep others out indefinitely."
"We'll think about it." Replied Richard.
Sirius looked to Harry who understood immediately. "Dobby?" The elf turned to him questioningly, the time spent with them dulling his worshipping ways. "Can you prepare rooms for our guests once you've finished up here?"
Dobby nodded, ears flapping. "Yes Master Harry."
Hermione looked ready to interrupt but he'd anticipated it. "He's being paid, don't worry. We also need to talk about that."
She huffed but looked curious all the same. "Alright."
They spent the rest of the evening talking about various topics, politics, the first war and life at Hogwarts. The latter sparked the happiest and most heated discussion, Helen and Richard seemed to appreciate the return to rough normality and engaged over tea and fresh biscuits.
He'd appreciated the normality as well, it hadn't felt odd with muggles in Grimmauld Place. Though there was the awkwardness that came with trying to gain the favour of your best friend's parents. The only trouble was there wasn't much positive for him to talk about, all of his feats involved some sort of foolhardy adventure or poor decision. As a result, he mostly stayed out of the conversation.
Right now however, he couldn't dodge the conversation he was no doubt about to have with Hermione. They currently sat upon his bed, her cross-legged, and him with his back to the headboard.
They were no doubt going to talk about what happened, she would bring up a concern that he would bat away. Only this time things were different, he found her attractive. As a result, natural reflex had him avoiding anything that would make him look weaker. He could feel the change in himself, even as he sat there, trying to not look too closely at her. Or not look away too much, or let his mind wander back to that morning in The Leaky Cauldron.
He cursed his newly developed feelings, it was much simpler when he was either too cold, or too confused to notice girls. It threatened to ruin things with the only real friend he had left. Why should he even care? He lamented upon how pathetic he was, to let his feelings distract him from his purpose.
"Harry?" Hermione asked, her face studying his own closely.
He couldn't help the nervous chuckle he tried to play off. His hand jumped to his hair unconsciously. "Yeah?"
"Are you thinking about the bookends?"
His nervousness fled, with a snort. This is Hermione. The same girl that will thump you if you don't pay attention Potter. "Nah, just thinking about this year."
She nodded and leant back upon her hands, testing his resolve once more. "It all depends on our OWLS doesn't it."
The nervousness apparent on her face sparked a flash of annoyance. "Gods sake 'Mione, you'll get straight O's. I'm the one that has to worry."
Her smile was small. "You'll be fine, you're a natural."
He snorted. "Only at things I don't have to study for." There was a long pause as he mulled over the last week or two. "It doesn't really matter, in the end."
"It'll give you a good basis for the future though." She pressed.
He folded his arms. "I know exactly what my future will be. It's why I'll have to spend the year training, rather than class."
At first she looked scandalised, but looked to be thinking over things as his thoughts grew more maudlin by the second. "You can still pickup a thing or two that would be handy later on." She reasoned.
He looked directly at her, her reasoning made sense… If she hadn't seen what he had in the Atrium. He took a deep breath, trying to wrestle away his fear. "Do you know what happened when Dumbledore faced him?"
She shook her head.
He then remembered she was on the brink of death at the time, and instantly felt disgusted with himself. "Sorry, I-"
She waved it away. "Don't worry, go on."
He set his jaw once more. "You hear about how incredible he is, but to see WHAT incredible is, it's… He animated the statues to take curses that saved my life, he just waved his wand at this eighty foot flaming serpent and killed it. Sent the flames back at Voldemort and he just made them disappear… like that. I barely recognised half the spells they sent at each other, then Dumbldore trapped the bastard in a sphere of water and made it float around. THEN, The bastard shatters every glass in the place, then sends the shards at us both. Dumbledore just puts a shield up and they turn into sand!"
He was breathing hard now, either in fear or explaining everything so quickly. "What at school will teach me to fight like that? There's no way I'm even strong enough to do anything like that!" He brought his knees to his chest before realising how weak he looked and quickly straightened them again.
She studied his - no doubt erratic - fidgeting with an intensity that made him uneasy.
Suddenly the pitch black sky outside became very interesting to him. The sky at the Graveyard had looked the same way.
The scrutiny extended for much longer than a few moments.
Until finally she spoke: "There's something you haven't told me… Isn't there?"
He gave up pretending and drew his knees back to his chest. "Yeah."
"I knew you were acting strange for some reason." She reasoned, still eyeing him closely. "How bad can it be? He already won't stop until you're dead."
He gave a weak chuckle. Of course she noticed. And she has a point, it's just being forced into it. That's all. "True. It's just, the same person that made the Prophecy about Wormtail escaping and joining Voldemort, made one about me. I HAVE to either kill him or die… There's no other way, no way out, no delaying it. Just…" Words failed him. He might have already explained it earlier that evening, but it still felt like relieving a burden. He couldn't shift the burden onto her, this was only just to tell it how it was. How little chance he had.
A warm feeling blossomed on his knees. He refocused to find Hermione had moved closer, her hands gently gripping his knees, her face closer and her chocolate eyes searching his own for something intangible. "You've beaten him before, you'll do it for good one day. I know it."
Her words seemed to come from far away. His own attention was taken up by the numerous faint freckles that lined her nose, his eyes traced each one of their own volition. As soon as he realised he'd reached her lips he started, nearly jumping off the bed - at least that's what it felt like at least.
These feelings were getting ridiculous now, confounding him whenever they took over his actions. She really is incredible, although how she believes I'll win is beyond me.
His heart nearly leaped from his chest when she leaned closer and pecked his cheek, like on the Platform an eternity ago. "I'll be there all the way." She then shimmied off the bed and rose with a small smile. "Night Harry."
His stupefied tongue couldn't formulate a response in time and he watched her leave. "Night Hermione." He whispered, long after the door had closed. He would become the weapon, that didn't mean he'd survive, but there was a hope. A hope that it wouldn't be in vain. A hope that he would survive to figure out how to live afterwards.
With that decided, he placed his glasses upon the side table.
Hopefully she would help, as she always did.
She's really too good for me.
And that was the last thought as he settled into a numb slumber. A lone tear clinging to the end of his nose, a reminder of his humanity.
...
Hours later, Harry twitched in his sleep.
He rounded the corner to enter the Time Room and found Voldemort holding Hermione off the ground, as if held by invisible strings. His surprised gasp alerted his enemy to his presence.
Voldemort gave a mirthless smile. "Ah Harry, right on time."
He could see the look of terror written upon her face, it gave him the impetus to dispense with formalities. "Let her go, he growled."
"Certainly, it's a waste of magic to hold her there anyway." With a wave of his hand, she fell to the ground upon hands and knees. Before she could crawl his way however he placed a Body-Bind curse upon her with a negligent flick of his wand. "There, mush less taxing. After all, she has done her job."
"Well I'm here." He replied in frustration. He needed Hermione closer to him if he wanted to protect her from the inevitable fight.
Voldemort considered him with inhuman eyes. "Quite. And alone. Ah, we are quite similar, you and I."
He snorted, they were nothing alike. He'd had the discussion in second year.
A flash of annoyance passed over Voldemort's features before looking thoughtful. "You have a point. But we are alone aren't we? I, because I'm strong, and you, because you're weak." He gave a raspy chuckle. "Ah, and emotions dictate how weak we are. It is why you will never win, because I can reach out and hurt you so easily."
And with another wave of his pale wand, all of her hair was ripped from the scalp. Harry flinched as her eyes shone with pain, her head was now bloody and it dribbled down to her chin to drip upon the stone floor.
Voldemort laughed properly. "Look at yourself! I haven't sent a single spell at you and you are at my mercy!" He then titled his head curiously at him. "You would do anything to spare her wouldn't you?"
He fought the combined urge to throw up and curse Voldemort into oblivion. He had to win, but what would be the point if she died? "Yes."
Voldemorts eyes shone with demented mirth. "I would ask if you would kill your best friend for her, but you already have." And with his last words, a slash of his wand created the same gash that had appeared on Ron upon her neck.
He snapped and launched himself and a fusillade of spells towards his parents' killer only to have them all shielded and his own wand was pulled from his hand by an unseen force. He stood limply and watched her die while Voldemort watched him. "See Harry? You killed her." With another flick, she slumped upon the floor before crawling towards him with all of her effort.
A last gasp signalled her last moments as she slumped back onto the floor, her eyes boring into his.
He shot up in his bed, sending a spare pillow flying. He couldn't get the image of the expression upon the Dream-Hermione's dying face, the way her eyes stared into him. "Dream." He mumbled to himself, even if to remind himself that he was no longer dreaming. Dream-Voldemort had been right though, and a wave of remorse and regret signalled his realisation. It was followed by a flash of fear, with only the feeling of defeat settled within him.
He curled his knees up defensively and leant back against the headboard, terrified to go back to sleep. It was only then that he cried in earnest. He would go through the motions but he would never be good enough, not to win, not even to find Hermione as attractive as he did. He had no right. Like Remus and Sirius, he would welcome his fate.
…
He might have been terrified of going back to sleep, but his traitorous body had other ideas. He wasn't plagued by nightmares, not when his mind could replay things that had already happened: Ron stood in shock beside him as he looked into the Mirror of Erised. "Harry, do you think this mirror shows the future?"
Harry recalled what he had just seen and his stomach sank. "How can it? All of my family is dead."
Both boys looked at each other as a wave of disappointment swallowed them both. Neither of them thought their dreams would come true.
Ron would never return to the Mirror, but he did. It was the only time he'd ever seen them in his life.
He'd barely returned to slumber when another memory found its way in.
Ron shifted uncomfortably upon his stone horse. "Once I make my move, the Queen will take me… Then you're free to check the King." Hermione argued but Ron overrode her as usual. "Do you want to stop Snape getting that stone or not!?" He then turned to Harry. "It's you that has to go on. Not me, not Hermione, you."
He nodded, he'd led them here after all. And because of it, his first friend was going to sacrifice himself for it. Thankfully he was only knocked out, but the way he fell was remarkably similar to the way he fell in the Department of Mysteries.
That had woken him for the third time. His body wracked with remorse and regret equally. But there wasn't much he could do about it now, so he'd decided upon an early start to the day.
That was how he found himself in his current seat at the table, opposite a worse-for-wear looking Remus. The ex-Defence Professor noticed his regard. "It's that time of the month."
He nodded, curiosity and pity warring within him. "How will you deal with it?"
Remus continued to read his notes. "I'll go home, to the room I crafted to transform in. I'll be back in a day or two." He stated this with the blandness of describing the weather.
"What about Wolfsbane?"
"It's extremely rare to find someone capable of making it."
"Snape-"
"Won't make it. Dumbledore required it of him at the time, not now." Remus stated just as casually. Harry ground his jaw at that. Fucking Snape. Remus noticed his simmering anger. "Trust me Harry, turning fully is preferable when the proper precautions are taken. I won't remember anything from it. Remaining sane as your body changes is… not ideal. I only took it as a Professor to make sure I wouldn't attack anyone." The Werewolf's face hardened as he spoke the last sentence, no doubt thinking about turning as they rescued Sirius.
Harry felt the air thicken and changed the subject. "We'll have a party when you get back then."
It worked as Remus gave a small smile. "You should save that for your birthday, which is soon."
Harry sat back in his chair, shocked at the implications. "You mean I'll have an actual Birthday Party? I've never..." His wonder was replaced quickly by excitement. "I can't wait!" He turned and hurried back upstairs, a boundless energy filling his previously tired body as he hurried to shower and change.
As he left the room, tears began to run down Remus's nose, landing heavily upon his notes.
...
Sirius knocked on Hermione's door, his discussion with Remus that morning had been sobering to say the least. There was still so much he did not know about his godson, it was something he needed to remedy. So he'd gone to the person who knew him best.
The door opened to reveal Hermione, book in hand, looking at him curiously. "Yes?"
"I want to talk about Harry, and you know him the best."
She blushed very slightly, but he resisted the urge to tease her. She was a scary witch after all. She acquiesced and soon they were seated, he upon the bed, and her in the armchair she had no doubt been reading in until he interrupted her.
"I don't really know where to begin." Admitted Sirius.
"Third year?" She queried. "It's when you met him after all."
"I don't see why not… How exactly did you both save me? I didn't expect to see you as I thought you were both in the Hospital Wing."
A look of guilt crossed her features as she furiously worked out how to answer his question. Her answer surprised him though. "It's complicated. We had to use the Time-Turned I'd been using to get to classes-"
"What!?"
She looked at him sheepishly. "I told you."
He ran a hand through his long hair repeatedly as he thought over the problem. Then he had a brainwave. Dumbledore owed him after all. "Could I get a copy of your memory of it?"
Hermione looked instantly intrigued. "You can see others' memories?"
He waved a tattooed hand. "With the right equipment, sure."
She glanced at her current book, no doubt thinking of researching the subject as soon a possible. "How does it work?"
Sirius gave a quick explanation that she listened to raptly, after which he extracted the memory, thanked her and prepared to visit Hogwarts once again. Remus had already left for his cottage in Nottingham and both Grangers agreed to watch the teens.
With the feeling of finally getting somewhere in his quest to understand Harry, he entered the floo network with a sense of excitement.
It wasn't long until he guilt tripped the old man enough to use his pensieve.
The ensuing memory bordered on the incredible. He watched Harry save him from Remus, only to watch Hermione save Harry from Remus as well. He watched in muted horror as the Werewolf caught them, watched in pride as Harry protected Hermione in what would have been their last moments before Buckbeak saved them both.
He watched with sadness at Harry's single-minded attitude to saving his godfather, a man he barely knew. James and Lily's son had more stones than anyone he knew, or a lack of a self-preservation instinct. He watched in fascination as Hermione followed him no matter the danger, guiding him when needed. It was heartening to see that kind of devotion still existed in the world, despite how rarely he saw or experienced it himself.
Eventually he reached the part he was most curious about.
He stood next to Hermione as she watched Harry watch himself battle a hundred Dementors. Or, it was more Harry fighting while standing over his unconcious body. He watched in awe as a boy of thirteen square up to certain doom face it head-on. As the Memory-Harry's shield flickered Hermione called out to the Harry that stood upon the opposite bank just in front of her.
"Listen to me Harry, no ones coming."
"He will come." Harry spat back, focused purely upon a spot just ahead of him. "My dad will come."
Sirius's heart broke in two. James might have been his brother, but he was a myth his godson had lived with. He could see just how much Harry wished for his father to turn up and save the day. Yet he knew it couldn't be the case, something obviously happened for them all to survive, but if one Harry couldn't drive them away, he couldn't see how the other could.
He couldn't help but wonder what Harry saw when affected by Dementors. His own visions he knew well, he'd watched Marlene cut down and found James and Lily's bodies thousands of times. But Padfoot saved him from succumbing to it long-term. It was actually something he needed to talk to him about when he returned home.
But for now, he focussed upon what was happening in front of him, seeing his godson collapse under the sheer weight of numbers.
Hermione looked appalled. "You're dying… Both of you…"
Memory-Harry peered in their direction as he wavered on all fours, Sirius watched in morbid fascination as his own soul rose from his mouth. Its light, a beacon that shone through the massed Dementors. As it did, the Harry in front of him started, then darted forward to the frozen water's edge.
"EXPECTO PATRONUUUM!"
While he'd only heard about his godson's patronus, seeing it was very different. The girl beside him shivered and he realised just how powerful the boy was.
Then he realised something else; this moment ended his godson's innocence. He'd watched Harry finally make the decision that his parents were never coming back, they were never going to save him again. The appearance of Prongs in patronus form signified that he was on his own now, but they were there for him nonetheless.
Patronus-Prongs stood tall and proud, no doubt in the same way he did to Voldemort. The light was almost blinding, waves of molten light bodily pushing the Dementors back in continuous waves. After a full minute, the air was clear and Hermione moved to Harry's side as he collected himself, breathing hard and windswept.
He stepped forward to join them when he heard a sniff. Hermione's arm curled around Harry's and he heard the boy murmur to her. "It wasn't my dad I saw. It-it was me." Harry sniffed again and a single tear rolled down his cheek. "I was so sure…"
She nuzzled his shoulder. "It's understandable."
Harry wiped the tear away hastily as they watched Snape find the pair. "I suppose. We have to find Buckbeak and get Sirius away from here."
The memory faded and he found himself in the Headmaster's office, who looked up from his paperwork and observed him silently. When his mind finally centered itself, the old man spoke. "You found something?"
Sirius nodded stiffly. "I think I understand him more now."
Dumbledore leaned forward, ignoring the quill that continued to write beside him. "How so?"
He sighed, his revelation was a heavy one, speaking it aloud would no doubt be more so. "He is, what we made him Albus, we weren't there for him. He was only close to Ron and Hermione, and now she's all he has left."
Dumbledore looked troubled and yet resigned at the same time. "He will prevail, in the end."
"I'll help them anyway I can."
Dumbledore sighed and nodded. "That would be for the best." He raised a blackened hand. "I won't be here forever."
Sirius had no mind for whatever injury the old man had sustained. The old man deserved what he got, betraying him all those years ago and leaving his godson to the mercy of the Dursley's.
He siphoned the memory out the Pensieve with his wand and back into the flask, vanishing them with a flick before he left. There was no point in reasoning with an old man so set in his ways. So convinced of his own superiority and intellect.
...
