Voices knitted together, weaving and winding. They were sound, blending in with the rush and crash of the waves, the howling wind. Just sound, indistinct, lingering in the background. The sights too were diminished under Hermione's firmly shut eyelids. Clutched in her hands, the mug of tea was steadily cooling, the liquid untouched. Nothing mattered, everything was dialled back as she did her utmost to not think about Harry and Voldemort.

But the images were stark, painfully so. While he was fast asleep in the room off from the kitch, safe, healing, her mind was telling her the opposite. He was in danger, he was being hurt…

His sweat-drenched face twisted as he violently threw his head side-to-side. The scream of agony ripped out of him, raw, rough, starting low then pitching upwards where his voice broke…

Hermione's fingers flinched on the mug in her hands at the vivid memory of his torture. She struggled to even comprehend how it had felt for him to have his back broken mercilessly slowly so he felt each vertebrae grind together, the central nerve in his body pulled taut, flayed. For Harry to make such sounds of pain, Harry, who had the greatest pain threshold of anyone she knew.

And I just watched it happen…

Not long after Dobby left with Mr Ollivander, he began to succumb to the after-effects of his torture. The trembling in his hands worsened to the point he dropped his tea and he then was forced to lay back down. He struggled and protested, getting angry and stubborn. It was only the joint soothing words from Hermione and Luna that convinced him to take a sleeping potion so his body could heal while he slept.

There was not much room in the cottage and all the bedrooms were occupied. Ron had his own room. Luna was in the other guest room. Bill had put up a tent in the garden for Remus, Tonks and Andromeda. They put up two camp beds for Harry and Hermione in a storage room that came off the kitchen. It was barely large enough to fit in two camp beds, but she had told them that it would do. She didn't think she could sleep anyway, not without a potion herself. Every time she closed her eyes, she would see Harry being hurt.

By that monster…

When she wasn't wrapped up in memories of Harry's torment, she was back there, trapped like prey caught in a snare. He stood over her, so close she could see the fine muscles around his reptilian nostrils flaring. His expression was one of such loathing, such smouldering rage, his mouth downturned, lips barely visible.

But it had been his eyes that haunted her, just as they haunted Harry. She finally understood what it was like for him. To be on the receiving end of Lord Voldemort's wrath. To gaze into those eyes of such malice, deep red, the colour of blood.

Then Harry charged at Voldemort, daring to try to disarm him. Only she knew he wasn't being foolish, giving into his kind, compassionate side. He was being tactical, forcing Voldemort to engage with him. He was drawing his attention away from her… working with her.

Together.

Her mind, every thought, then transfixed on those moments. She forced herself to evaluate them, to make herself see the proof.

Hands slick with Remus's blood, Hermione scrambled up the moment the portkey worked. Remus and Bill were safe. She threw the invisibility cloak over herself and staggered to where Harry started to engage Lord Voldemort. Immediately she jumped back as a deflected reductor curse carved through the marble where her feet had been. She took a few steps back, taking in the scene before her.

Harry advanced, his arm moving so fast, it was almost a blur. He hurled a barrage of reductor curses, each full powered, striking Voldemort's defences. They were lethal attacks, but easily deflected.

Then Lord Voldemort took a step back. And another…

A soft voice saying her name over and over brought her attention back to the present. She nearly dropped the mug of tea still clutched in her hands as she opened her eyes.

"Sacre bleu, 'Ermione… you need to rest too," Fleur's soft, velvety voice drifted in as she glided towards Hermione. "You need to take care of yourself as well, you know."

"I'm fine. Really," Hermione insisted, peering into Fleur's deep blue eyes. She smiled sadly at her.

"I will take this cold tea." Fleur took the mug out from her hands. Hermione watched her, then she turned to look at the woman sitting across from her. Only the three of them were still awake. The candles set around the room and the fairies twinkling in the Christmas garlands above them set the room off beautifully.

Hermione noticed how pale and clammy Tonks looked.

"Are you alright?"

"Me?" Tonks was baffled at the question. She leaned back in her chair, her hair changing from its previous mousy brown to a warm, golden colour, curls lengthening as she shifted. Her mouth quirked up in the corner. "Don't worry about me. I often get sick at night - the joys of being knocked up… isn't that right, Fleur?"

The French witch's hands clattered on the potions as she was fussing with them. She straightened, her face, to Hermione's surprise, was pink.

As quick as a whip, Hermione was there. She gasped, rushing over to Fleur.

"Oh? Oh! Why didn't you say? You've been on your feet all night!"

Tonks laughed from her seat, sipping at her drink. "That, I believe, is why she didn't say. Just because we're baby-making machines doesn't mean we're useless."

Hermione flushed at that. She drew back. Fleur gave her a soft smile in return, showing her that she had taken no offence at her concern.

"Does… does everyone know?"

"Oui. You are the last to find out. You were rather unreachable, 'owever," Fleur said, patting her on the arm.

"When are you due?"

"In May," she said, picking out a small, blue bottle from the potions she had arranged on the counter.

"A month after mine," Tonks said, smiling. "He'll have a playmate."

"He?" Hermione looked over at her. Tonks shrugged.

"Remus is adamant that he's a he. Says he can tell." Tonks's face then sobered at the mention of her husband. Hermione caught the look.

"How is Remus?"

"Grumpy. He hates the fuss but he lost the battle with my mother and is currently sleeping. I suspect he'll be in a bad mood when he wakes up but other than that, he's fine." Tonks gave her a soft smile. "Thanks to you."

Fleur then swept up over to her, wielding two bottles. One Hermione knew was the same sleeping potion Harry had taken. The other. She peered at the lilac concoction.

That looks a bit like…

Tonks noticed as well and gave a small laugh.

"Now what exactly are you implying with that particular potion, Fleur?"

Fleur tossed her hair in response, placing the bottles on the table.

"I'm already taking it," Hermione said quickly before she could hear what Fleur was insinuating.

Tonks and Fleur both looked at her in surprise. She then realised what she had just announced to them. For her to be taking the potion at all, it meant that she was sexually active and they both knew that she had been travelling alone with Harry.

Hermione's face felt like it was throbbing as blood rushed to her cheeks. She could see the laughter in Tonks's eyes as she considered her.

"Ah… I am relieved you are being responsible, 'Ermione," Fleur said throatily. "And more relieved that you are making the most of your time together." Her face split into a dazzling smile, her teeth and eyes gleaming. " Enjoying each other."

Hermione gasped out, spluttering, her face now ignited. Tonks then joined in.

"About time you both figured it out. What was it that did it? Being alone in the cold, cuddling for warmth?"

Fleur clapped her hands together, appearing thrilled. "Magnifique … to find love in the face of such darkness. It brings me joy. Oh - and to know that 'Arry has some happiness in his life…"

"Oh, I'm sure he's ecstatic," Tonks's smile resumed its mischievous quirk. "My, my, Hermione, I suspected that you both had been busy this whole time but I never thought you would be busy in the bedroom department."

"Tonks!" Hermione gasped. To her surprise, Fleur gave a tittering laugh. Both witches were lapping it up.

"Perhaps it is not a sleeping potion that you need at all. Perhaps you need something to wake up your Prince Charmant…"

Tonks she knew had a naughty streak, but Fleur? Since when had she been so forward.

Well, she is French.

"Oh my God, I can't believe we're talking about this," Hermione whined, putting her hands over her flaming face.

"Why not, Hermione? Is this not cause for celebration? You have turned 'Arry Potter into a man."

"Oh, just think of all the dreams you've dashed, Hermione," Tonks said, sighing dramatically. "But then, everyone knows you're travelling together. Potter and Granger, Partners of Crime."

Hermione peered through her fingers at Tonks.

"Please tell me you made that up and it's not what they've been printing."

Fleur then grasped Hermione by the elbows, guiding her up to her feet. To Hermione's surprise, the witch brought her arms around her and gave her a warm, pleasant hug.

"Embrace your union, your love. It is the strongest magic of all." She placed a hand on Hermione's chest where her heart beat rapidly. "You will need it in your fight for darkness knows no love."

Her shame dwindled as she gazed into Fleur's beautiful blue eyes, her veela hair shimmering in the fairies' glow. She looked down at Fleur's hand on her heart.

Darkness knows no love…

In her mind, she could see Harry pacing, drawing Voldemort with him. He held his wand up in his favourite combative stance, shoulder height, elbow bent. She had looked up from where Bill urgently worked on the devastating wound in Remus's abdomen, the blood and viscera coating both their hands.

Voldemort's voice was as sharp and merciless as ice as it lashed out at Harry, who side-stepped with the Dark Wizard in his sights.

"I wonder if you will demonstrate this… power I know not before I kill you as the prophecy demands."

Harry's footsteps halted at once, a look of utter shock and disbelief wiping out the righteous fury that had been there a second ago. Voldemort's laugh chipped at the air, causing Harry to flinch.

Hermione made one of many mental notes of things to talk to Harry about once he was recovered and they had complete privacy. Instead of dwelling on it too much, Hermione reached up her hand to take Fleur's and gave her a genuine, warm smile.

"I think I'm starting to see that," she said softly. Tonks sighed and rose from her seat. She came over to the two of them. Hermione looked up at her, seeing that Tonks's heart-shaped face was a picture of understanding and concern.

"I know how it feels. It never gets easier… seeing them in pain."

Hermione sighed at that. She looked at both witches and her mouth twitched. She could see Harry's face, blood vessels protruding from his forehead and neck as he strained. She could see his feeble struggles, his eyes practically bulging out of his face, blood trailing from his mouth to his hair from the upside down position he was forced in.

She knew the blood was draining from her face. She swooned to the side.

Fleur had her hands on her face at once, her hands cool and soothing, then she gave a soft cooing sound and brought her arms around her again. Her aura surrounded them in a calming, serene wave. It was an overwhelming feeling that made her feel finally safe enough to let it out. Her face pressed into the silky silvery hair and she sucked in a sob.

"Ma cherie …" Fleur soothed in her softest voice, her hands gentling rubbing her shoulders.

"He's alive, Hermione. You saved him," Tonks moved in, joining her. Hermione heard a sniff before the third witch wrapped her arms around her.

"I didn't… he broke his back and I watched him do it."

"If you had interfered, you would have only gotten yourself and Harry killed." Tonks told her. "You had to wait for the opening and you did. Harry understands that."

Hermione shook her head. "He… he doesn't know how much I saw. He'll hate… hate that I saw him like that. I hate it… and I can't stop seeing it…" Her tears were hot, desperate for release having been held at bay for so long.

"It's always worse… in these quiet moments," Tonks said softly, "when you're no longer fighting for your life. You start to go over it in your head, analyse what you did, where you made mistakes… but you can't change what happened, Hermione. Yes, Harry and Remus are hurt, but they are alive. Thanks to you. They'll heal - and so will you."

Hermione's tears trickled off her chin as she wept. She couldn't stop now the floodgates were open.

"He was in so much pain…" Hermione's voice broke. She pulled her face back from Fleur, looking at them both. "He tried to hide it but seeing it… knowing there's nothing I can do… I don't know… I've never felt so powerless before."

The two women both looked at her, eyes wide. Fleur then released her and reached for the sleeping potion that she placed on the table. She handed it over to Hermione.

"For now, 'Ermione, you need to get some rest. You are exhausted, ma cherie." She pressed the bottle into Hermione's hand.

Letting out a breath, Hermione took a step back, looking down at the small bottle in her hand. As she did, she caught sight of the pendant that she had turned into a portkey. She ran her fingers over the glass. Tonks reached over, tucking a strand of her behind her ear in a strangely affectionate gesture.

"Go to him and get some sleep," Tonks said, then she winked, "and if you want to share his bed, we'll make sure no one other than us comes to check on you in the morning." Fleur gave her usual pretty laugh, turning from Tonks.

"As for his pain, you can take that away, Hermione. Love is funny like that," Tonks said, smiling, "and if anything is clear, you are very much in love."

Fleur gave Hermione a warm smile, her eyes sparkling.

"C'est le pouvoir de l'amour," Fleur said, agreeing. Hermione's patchy primary school french translated enough to know what she said. Her cheeks pinked, her heart warming at the sentiment.

She bade them both goodnight, thanking them for their kindness and warmth. As she carried the sleeping potion with her to the storage room, pushing open the door. She crept inside, doing her utmost to not wake Harry.

First, she took the sleeping bag from the empty camp bed. She shrunk down the bare bed, tucking it out of the way. Carefully, Hermione enlarged Harry's bed. He let out a huff at the slight disturbance. Her heart fluttered at the rather adorable wrinkle his nose gave in response. He shifted a little and then released the softest, quietest snore. She couldn't help but give a teary smile at how peaceful he was.

Dressing down to only her underwear, she moved on the bed next to him. She laid the sleeping bag down next to him, doing her very best to not jostle or move around too much. She conjured herself up a glass of water and drank it before eventually snuggling up.

She laid her wand down next to her and slowly rolled over to see her beloved's face before taking the potion. Edging closer to him, resting her face next to his enlarged pillow, she gazed at him.

She took in every aspect of his face. His thick dark eyelashes, his brows, the striking line of his jaw made more pronounced with his dark facial hair that was now not in the disordered patches it grew in when he was younger, but more ordered, tidy… masculine.

His scar looked different in the pallid moonlight. It was almost silvery, showing where the skin puckered around it.

Marked as my equal, indeed.

Hermione expelled a breath. The words that Voldemort used to taunt Harry with were unfamiliar to her but had such a profound effect on Harry, she knew they were intensely secret. Voldemort had not held back when he revealed how he plucked the prophecy out of Harry's head. When Harry told her and Ron of the prophecy, he had never told them the full contents. That information he kept to himself.

Only now Voldemort knew.

Fleur's words then came back to her. Le pouvoir de l'amour.

The power of love.

It sounded so fanciful, so romantic out loud. Hermione knew how many fairy tales, both muggle and magic, focused on the apparent magic of love. And yet… she couldn't dismiss Voldemort's words, nor Bathilda's when she told Harry about the strength of his heart. Could it really be that love held magic of its own?

Could it be wielded?

Hermione edged closer to Harry, listening to his breathing. She couldn't resist and placed her lips on his. She sighed at the touch of them, even roughened up from his ordeal, they still set her skin tingling. Rolling her head back, she brought her hands up from the sleeping bag, holding the bottle of sleeping potion.

But then she saw Harry's lips curling upwards, forming a smile, a broad one.

"Woken up with a kiss?" He said softly. "Does that make me Sleeping Beauty… or Snow White?"

Humour coloured his voice. His wonderful voice. Hermione only then relished in the sound of it, his accent that matched her own. She always loved that he was well spoken, that he enunciated everything clearly and rarely mumbled - unless he was tired. But what she loved best was when he took her by surprise with his sense of humour, when he said things that were so muggle, so out of place coming out of the mouth of the most famous wizard alive.

"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to wake you."

His eyes opened slowly. She caught the moment of his pupils focusing on her face.

"Considering the effort you took in getting me to sleep in the first place, I'm not surprised," he said, then uncoiled himself, yawning.

Harry extracted his arms from his blankets and sleeping bag. His chest was bare, showing small bruises that he'd gathered in the fight. Hermione's body was in no better shape. He stretched his arms up above his head as he always did when he woke up. His shoulders gave audible pops as he did. Hermione's eyes widened in alarm.

"Don't panic. You know they always do that," Harry said with a slight laugh.

"How… is your pain?" She asked quietly. He met her eyes. He wore a resigned expression.

"Still hurts but it's not as bad." He brought his arms back down tentatively. His hands found her face. "How's your ankle and wrist?"

She blinked. In truth, since Harry's condition worsened, she had barely given her own injuries a thought.

"Both fine. And Ron's eye looks like it'll heal up. It wasn't a dark curse so it'll… regrow."

Harry grimaced at that. "Why does regrowing eyes sound gross?"

"Because it is." She said with a shrug.

"Remus?" He asked softly.

"Sleeping now. He's under orders to rest, like you," she said, causing Harry to give an amused huff. "He'll be fine," she assured him. They had told Harry over and over before he went to sleep that Remus would make a full recovery, but in classic Harry fashion, he was worried all the same. He rested his face against the pillow, now staring at her as intently as she had been staring before she accidentally woke him up.

"Can we cuddle up?" He asked her. In response, Hermione unzipped her sleeping bag. They both unravelled their sleeping bags, opening them up so their bodies could be intertwined. She took care to not touch his back and instead drew her leg over his.

He raised his hand up, touching her cheek. His look turned misty. Hermione saw then the band of red, raw skin around his wrist. She gasped, reaching up her own hand and drew his wrist in front of her eyes. She saw Harry's flash of alarm. It looked like a burn around his wrist.

Rope burns…

"I'm okay, Hermione," he said softly, of course knowing what she had seen. "A bit dinged up, sure, but we didn't lose anyone. That's… all that matters."

He doesn't know what I saw…

She laced her fingers through his, bringing the back of his hand to her mouth. She kissed his hand and gazed into his eyes.

"Harry, I… I know you're not okay," she said quietly, her tears threatening once again. "I saw… what he did to you."

Harry's brow furrowed, puzzled as he searched her face, trying to understand what she was admitting to.

"I was spying, Harry… I saw…" She brought his hand up to her mouth again, pressing it to her lips. She drew in a breath, her tears spilling free. "I saw him torturing you." Her voice was strained, pitching up. She sucked in another breath. "I… I just watched and I couldn't…stop him."

She heard Harry moving but she screwed her eyes up shut. His forehead then pushed against hers. His hands pressed on her cheeks as he controlled himself in light of her confession.

"How… how much did you see?" Harry asked, his voice so unbearably vulnerable, uncertain… scared. She let go of the potion in her hand and brought both her hands up to rest over his, feeling his warm skin.

Her breath caught, her chest tightening. Moisture dewed between her eyelids again as she thought of how much Harry suffered, how much he endured… and how much he survived.

"When Dobby and I arrived in the Elf Way, he was… talking to you and he… made you kneel." She swallowed, starting to tremble. She could see the lattice, that damned screen barring her from saving Harry.

Harry's gasp ripped at her heart. She felt then a tear drip onto her face. His tear. He then moved his arms down, bringing them around her, sighing as his face burrowing into her curls.

He never held her like this. His entire body was shaking. His arms held hers at her sides as he clung to her.

"I'm so… so sorry." She gasped out and she extracted her arms carefully and brought them around him. She opened her eyes and pressed her cheek against Harry's. His face was wet. Their bodies pressed together tightly. She did her best to not agitate his back as her hands rubbed his bare skin, trying to comfort him.

"Don't… don't apologise," he said, "never… never apologise. I'm here… breathing, alive, because you saved me." His shaky voice was thick with emotion. "You waited for the opportune moment. You didn't lose your head." He drew back from her curls, his eyes streaming with tears. "You are so strong, Hermione. So brave… I couldn't do that. I would have burst in and gotten us both killed."

He drew his arms back from where he had been holding her so tightly. He gazed at her, brushing her cheek so tenderly. Hermione closed her eyes at the soft touch.

"It's my greatest fear," he murmured, his breath puffed on her lips. "Him hurting you in front of me, making me watch…so I know, Hermione, I know it's not me who's suffering right now."

He was devastated on her behalf.

Oh Harry…

He then closed the small distance between them, his lips finding hers. His kiss was one of pure urgency and desperation. His tears fell onto her cheeks. She pushed herself into him, their bodies touching. She refrained from touching his back, instead cupping his cheeks as he cupped her.

Their lips parted, but they stayed close, noses touching.

"I wish I could spare you from the nightmares," Harry whispered to her, "it breaks… it breaks my heart that I can't."

"Harry…"

"It's what I hate the most… about this war, about him," his voice shook with emotion. "I hate how he's stolen our innocence. He's spoiled us… put this darkness in our lives that we can't ever… ever get rid of."

His lip trembled. "He's ruined our… our lives, Hermione."

"Our lives aren't ruined," she said at once and to prove it, she leaned in and kissed him. He sobbed and sighed into the kiss. She stroked his face tenderly as she desperately tried to convey the love she felt, how much he meant to her. Once she took her lips away from his, she brushed his tears from his cheeks.

"This one good thing in our lives, this love… our lives aren't ruined when we still have the capacity to love."

She kissed him tenderly, her own tears mixing with his on her face.

"And we can be spared from the nightmares for one night. I have a sleeping potion," she breathed out. "Do you want to share it?"

"Yes," he answered. She reached for the bottle that she dropped and passed it to him. Once he took it, she rolled over so they could spoon. She sighed when his chest and legs touched her bare skin. At her back, she heard the pop of the cork as Harry opened it.

"Bottoms up," Harry breathed to her, his voice making her heart soar. She heard him drink and he brought the bottle in front of her. She took it and finished off the contents, not before noticing that Harry left her far more than he had taken.

Harry's head burrowed into the back of her neck. His hands and arms coiled around her, holding her safely in his embrace. He was so warm. His arm draped over her and he pulled the two sleeping bags over them. He placed a kiss on the back of her neck. She snuggled back, his warmth and presence enough to make her feel the sleepiness that she had been denying. She put the empty bottle aside. She sighed, her eyelids feeling heavy as his strong arms protectively wrapped around her.

"I love you so…much."

His voice was growing fainter as the warm, comforting swell of sleepiness surged through her.

"I love you too."

Her eyes closed and she leaned back into Harry's hold. Then the pair of them drifted off to sleep.


All it took the following morning for Hermione to understand his plans was for Harry to kiss her cheek and tell her that they should leave as soon as they can and talk where it's safe to do so. Her sleepy reply of 'I know', made him pepper kisses down her long spine. After that, their usual morning mantras were replaced with new questions of 'how do we brush our teeth?' and 'Bill wears briefs?'. The latter had Harry holding up the clothes that Fleur offered them, having not brought any of their own with them (not thinking they had to of course).

They both also wore smiles, but their eyes betrayed the demons that they needed to air off their chests the moment they could in their own private safespace. Until then, they provided comfort in their humour and soft touches.

Without their usual gear, they made do with magic. Simple cleaning charms and freshening spells dealt with the general body odour that clung to their skins. It wasn't perfect and they both knew it, but it was the best they could do. Hermione threaded her fingers through her hair in an attempt to comb it. Harry then moved to assist. Between them, her hair was soon braided and fastened with spells in a bun at the back of her head.

"Beautiful," Harry had breathed into her neck, neatening the collar of her robe, fussing a little.

Working like the well-oiled machine they were, they then tidied the storage room. The beds were neatly disassembled, the sleeping bags rolled up in bundles on top.

A short knock on the door had them both wheeling around, jumpy in response to the sudden sound. Harry's hand was wrapped around the handle of his wand.

"Fancy joining us for breakfast, you two?"

Harry let go of his wand. Tonks. He shared a look with Hermione and made his way to the door. Harry opened it, revealing them both fully dressed and appropriately decent. Tonks jumped, clearly not expecting them to answer the door. She recovered quickly.

"Oh you both don't hang around, do you?" She said, then Harry peered past her into the kitchen. He could see blurred shapes moving around but with his miserable eyesight, only Tonks was visible in front of him.

"Ah, bon martin!"

Fleur's blur was obvious from the overall aura she extruded. The clatters and clinks of pots and pans played out in the percussive symphony Harry knew to be the sound of a meal in progress.

"Morning," Bill called out. Harry saw him at the table, waving. "Just got the paper. You might want to take a look at this."

Harry shared a worried look with Hermione before cautiously making his way through the blurred world. Hermione was right at his side. Reaching the table, Harry saw the tea pot and the cups set out ready. Bill folded out the paper as they came to join him. It was immediately clear what Bill wanted him to see so urgently.

Potter Escapes Auror Custody - Three Dead, Two Injured

Bill's face was grim. "They've issued arrest warrants for myself and Ron, Luna too. Mum, dad and Ginny are at Muriel's so they're safe for the moment." He explained to them. Harry didn't want to read whatever lies had been printed to condemn him as a terrorist while white-washing the Death Eaters and Voldemort's involvement.

"May I?" Hermione asked, extending her hands for the paper. Bill handed it to her and she pulled a chair out at the table. Her expression was enrapt, focused, as her eyes flicked left to right as she absorbed as much as she could.

Someone resting a hand on his shoulder. Harry looked over and did his best to not flinch back in alarm when his eyes met a face that so resembled a witch who had relished in his torment barely a day ago. Andromeda Tonks nee Black's eyes however made it clear that she was the antithesis of her deranged sister. Her dark orbs radiated concern and were soft rather than the hard, manic blaze that burned within Bellatrix's malignant glare.

"If you take a seat, I'll check your back," she said to him. Harry gave a curt nod in response. He took the seat next to Hermione as Tonks sat down opposite him. She gave him a rueful smile.

"How's Remus?" Harry asked at once.

"He's fine," Tonks replied, smiling knowingly. "He's gone to check on our home and will be back soon."

Relief whooshed through him.

He really is okay.

We all made it. We're alive…

Andromeda rubbed his back in an odd way. He looked up at her again. Her brow was furrowed. He knew that look. He got it many times from Madame Pomfrey over the years.

"I need you to tell me, honestly, what hurts and where?" She lifted her wand almost threateningly. Harry smiled wistfully.

Definitely like Madame Pomfrey.

"Um…" He glanced up to Hermione, his face flushing a little. He didn't want to worry her but then, she knew how badly he had been hurt. Unwanted feelings of shame and guilt burned through him, making him feel physically sick.

Andromeda crouched down at his side then, taking him by surprise. She then reached for his hand, making him look her in the eye. Her eyes were physically so alike Bellatrix's and yet she gazed at him with a depth of kindness and care that he knew her sister could never feel much less show.

"No one, not a single person in this house, will ever think you are weak if you admit you're in pain."

He swallowed and felt horribly exposed in front of everyone.

"I know… and it's a lot better than last night." He said, meeting her eyes and doing his best to not pay attention to the others watching him. "It hurts when I move… especially bending."

"What aches? And where?" She said at once, snapping back into healer mode.

"My back… and it hurts the most here…" He leaned forward, placing his hand carefully on the tender spot just above his tailbone. He raised his head, seeing Hermione's concerned look from over the paper.

"The nerves need a little more work then. I'll see what I can do. Put your hands on the table and rest your forehead on them." His face flushed a little as he had to be treated with an audience. He did as he was told but as he curved his back, pain flashed from the tender spot.

"Ah!"

He then bit his lip as the pinched nerve set off a chain reaction. He had hoped that the Cruciatus damage had gone but there was still a residual of the curse in his system. Hermione turned and reached for his hand in a heartbeat. She reached for his hand.

"Harry?"

"I-it's okay," he said to her, looking up. Already the pain was fading. Andromeda rubbed his back again.

"The Cruciatus is unforgivable for a reason."

Tonks gave a dark sound of agreement. Bill's expression darkened. He could feel Andromeda's wand running down his back. She was muttering under her breath. Warmth spread from the tip of her wand. Healing charms.

He gave Hermione a reassuring smile.

"I think I'm in good hands, Hermione." He then glanced over to where she had left the newspaper. "Anything actually news-worthy in that heap of dung?"

"Of course not," she spat out, letting go of his hand. She flung herself back down in the seat. "They're making out that you decided to break into Malfoy Manor, hell-bent on your crusade of terror. The ' Aurors' that you ran into apparently had you in custody before your backup arrived. We ruthlessly brought carnage to the scene, racked up a body count before escaping with you. Oh, and they printed that the Aurors snapped your wand on the scene. The remnants are being 'analysed'."

Harry listened, a little impressed despite himself.

"That's actually quite believable."

"All good lies have a semblance of truth within them," The venom in Andromeda's voice made Harry's skin prickle. He could hear the resemblance in her voice then. "It would suit their agenda more to claim that you are still in their custody, but they want the public to be vigilant."

"Your bounty has gone up as well," Bill said, catching Harry's eye. "50 thousand galleons."

Harry lowered his head back down on the table.

"Yes, well… I think I learnt my lesson about keeping a low profile," he said into his hands.

"Bill, could you go and check on Ronald and Luna? I am going to make a start on the bacon…" Fleur's voice drifted from overhead.

"Yes, of course." He pushed himself up, giving a small chuckle. "What's the bet that Ron's gone back to sleep?"

"He'll be ready in seconds if you mention bacon," Harry mumbled from the table. Bill laughed and clapped him on the shoulder as he passed.

A few seconds passed and the warm feeling in his back started to centralise on a point. Where it hurt the most… where he had felt the crushing pressure the worst.

If I go further… your back will break and you will lose all your mobility… permanently.

Like they always did, the flashback struck quickly yet vividly. He expelled a small moan as it did, screwing his eyes tightly. A hand tightened around his. Hermione.

"Take some nice deep breaths, Harry," Andromeda said soothingly, "relax." He clung onto Hermione's hand as he forced himself to slow his breathing. The warm spot began to turn hot and uncomfortable. He shifted.

"I'm going to untrap a nerve, Harry, and I'm afraid this will hurt, but it will be quick - I promise." Andromeda warned.

It definitely did hurt. He jerked in his seat as the nerve panged free, his vision sparking white as it had done when the contortus pulled his spinal cord to the limit. He released a rough grunt in response.

"All done."

He slowly sat up straight. Hermione gripped his hand. Andromeda then took his other, inspecting the scabbed burns. He looked over, seeing her wide eyes as she then saw the matching marks on his other wrist. He had been close-lipped about his injuries the day before, frazzled from the whole ordeal. Once the breaks in his spine had been fixed, he then started to spasm and tremble from the overall exhaustion and curse damage. His more superficial injuries got rather overlooked.

Andromeda glanced over to her daughter, her expression strangely conflicted for a moment, then she let go of Harry's hand. She rose to her feet properly.

"I have some salve you can use for those burns," she said, giving him a lingering look before heading off to fetch the remedy.

The sound and scent of bacon sizzling then filled the kitchen as Fleur got to work. As if summoned by the salivating smell, Bill arrived, returning with a knowing grin.

"They're on their way." He moved towards his wife. "Do you need a hand?"

"Yes - the rolls…"

Andromeda returned, her long brown hair framing her face. She put down a tin on the table. Harry had forgotten that she had gone to get him something for his rope burns.

"Thank you," he said to her.

Harry's sharp hearing picked out the distinctive crack of apparatus. Bill's head snapped upwards at the sound at once. Harry's heart gave a leap, knowing who that pop belonged to. His heart rate then climbed as his relief morphed into nerves, his guilt prickling at the back of his hands. The smell of bacon suddenly turned his stomach.

"That'll be Remus," Tonks said, pushing her chair back. She met her mother's look. "We should meet him." Andromeda gave just a nod and joined her daughter in going out to make sure the arrival was indeed Remus Lupin. Their wands were out.

Just as they left, Hermione picked up the tin of salve and opened it. She reached for Harry's arm, pulling the sleeve back as she started to treat his burns.

Ron entered with his usual lack of grace while Luna entered with her usual light-steps as if sleep-walking. Ron made a beeline for Harry and clapped him on the back. Harry let out a small 'ommph' at the contact, jarring his tender nerves.

"Ronald!" Hermione snapped, affronted on Harry's behalf. "A bit of care, please!"

Ron grimaced sheepishly and he took the seat that Tonks left unoccupied. Luna breezed over to help Fleur. Harry could make out most of his facial features. The bandage that covered the gash down his face no longer concealed the wound. A straight red line carve down his left brown and his cheek, missing his eye. Ron's right eye was still clear and blue, fixed on Harry with the same look of scrutiny Harry was giving him. His other eye was extremely bloodshot and watery. Healing.

"Sorry mate." He faltered a little under the reproachful look Hermione gave him. His eyes then went onto the burns that she was treating, his face paling when he worked out where they had come from.

"Tea?" Luna asked, arriving with a teapot and cups.

"Oh, sure, thanks!" Harry beamed at her. She smiled back, her eyes lighting up. She poured them all drinks and then sat herself down next to Ron, offering him a plate of biscuits.

"Custard Cream, Ronald?" She asked. Ron took one, his eyes meeting hers for a moment. Harry and Hermione shared a look then looked down at their own cups, both wearing conspiratorial smiles. Hermione finished on his other wrist and closed the tin.

"Thanks," Harry said into her ear.

While Bill and Fleur worked on making the bacon rolls, the four of them sat quietly, not sure what to say. Harry reached for his tea. He saw Ron nervously glancing at him.

"How… is the back?" He asked.

"Sore but better," Harry said, "how's the eye?"

"Getting there."

Hermione then rested her hand on top of his.

"It's a good thing that my boyfriend made scars sexy, then."

Harry spat out his tea. Ron was no better, spluttering as he went to bite into his biscuit. Luna just smiled. Aghast, his face aflame, Harry drew his wand and hurriedly vanished the mess he had made. Hermione giggled away next to him, her hand warm and wicked on his.

Harry turned his red face towards his girlfriend, raising his brow at her. She just responded with a smile that made his lower regions feel a little in danger. His lips curled in the corner.

"Bill, did you 'ear that. Scars are sexy…"

Ron's ears flamed as Fleur and Hermione then laughed at the combined embarrassment. Bill flashed a grin at his wife and snaked an arm around her waist.

"Good to know."

The front door slammed shut. Harry looked over, nerves twisting inside him. He was far from ready for another emotional conversation. Especially when his own hate-filled words were haunting him, making him fidget with shame.

I'd never have believed this, the man who taught me to fight dementors – a coward.

"Ah good timing!" Bill called out. "We've got breakfast ready." He turned from the counter, carrying a platter of bacon rolls. Fleur summoned plates to their places, each dish landing with a neat plonk on the table. Bill then conjured up more chairs.

"It's a bit of a squeeze but we can manage," Bill said. Harry was still, his eyes fixed on the door way. Ron helped himself to a roll - getting one for Luna as well. Harry knew Hermione was concerned for him. She leaned to his ear.

"It'll be fine, Harry. You're working yourself up," she whispered, her hand resting on his. "You have nothing to worry about."

He swallowed tightly, giving her a nod.

Out in the hallway, he could hear the resonance of a male voice amid female ones. He frowned down at the table, drawing up his courage.

He came for me. He came to help despite what I said. He risked his life. I owe him more than my apology. I owe him a debt.

Remus Lupin entered the kitchen. Harry didn't need his glasses to know it was him. Bill gave a cheer at the sight of him and rushed over. They grasped forearms in a brotherly greeting. All the bubbles of conversation died as Remus moved past Bill and his eyes fell at once on Harry. Hermione's hand left his and Harry knew then what he had to do. He got to his feet, his heart racing. He and Remus moved at the same time as they crossed the distance.

Of course, Hermione was one hundred percent right.

"Harry…" Remus's hoarse voice choked out of him as he grabbed his shoulders. Harry grabbed his and they took in each other's faces, searching each other, confirming that they were real and that they hadn't lost each other before they could mend the rift.

In that moment, Harry remembered when the shabby Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher had been a foot taller than him. Now they were almost the same height, looking into each other's eyes, emotions roiling and raging in their eyes.

"I… I'm…" Harry couldn't speak.

"I know," Remus said softly and his eyes were a far cry from the furious, beastily rage that blaze out of him when he struck Harry after their argument. "I am too… more than I can ever say…"

Then he hugged Harry. His hand came around and cradled the back of Harry's head, bringing him to his chest, embracing him in a way that Harry had never felt. He inhaled the faint musk on Lupin's robes, his cheek pressing against the cloth of his worn travel cloak.

He gave out a shuddering breath. The way he was being held… he had seen it before. It was how Arthur embraced his sons.

Before he really could understand what was happening to him, the wall inside him cracked. It was the same splintering sensation he felt when he knelt at his parents' graves. He suddenly gripped Remus's cloak tightly. He knew he was about to break down and he didn't want an audience.

"I… I can't… I can't do this here." He gasped out.

"Okay. Let's go outside…"

Harry didn't see the others' faces as Remus kept his face cradled into his chest, his arm around him protectively as he ushered him out of the room. He could barely focus on putting one foot in front of the other as he scrunched up his face against the surging well of pain that all of a sudden was just too much to bear.

He stumbled and staggered, but Remus guided him out of the cottage, out into the chilly December air. Harry gulped it in, the salty tang exactly what he needed.

"Muffliato."

He registered Remus casting privacy charms. Remus then pulled Harry to him. He gave a soft moan and his hand moved to support the back of Harry's head again and he cradled him into his shoulder.

This time, Harry did break down. He had no real comprehension of what he was crying over, only that it hurt. His guards came down completely as he allowed himself to be truly vulnerable in a way that he only had done in front of Hermione.

It took him a few minutes to control his sobs and regain his composure. He heaved in long, steady breaths, leaning on Remus as he brought himself back. Once his breathing was regular, Remus gently eased him up from where he had been pressed into his chest. Harry moved back, shivelling, looking embarrassedly at the large wet splodge on Remus's robes.

Remus conjured up a pure white handkerchief. Harry took it, feeling very ashamed with his display.

"I'm… sorry," Harry said once he had cleaned off his tears. "It just hit me… all at once."

"I know," Remus put his hand on his shoulder, "and I also know it's best to talk about it, not wall it up inside us and wait for it to explode." He put his other hand on his forehead as he sighed. He then looked over Harry's shoulder. "Can we sit?"

Harry looked around, seeing a rather sandblasted wooden bench set before the cottage. He nodded and Remus kept his hand on his shoulder, guiding him to the bench. It was almost as if he felt that if he let go of Harry, he would disappear. No one had ever acted so protectively around him before. Harry didn't know how to react.

He settled down as a blast of cold wind rushed over him. Remus unclipped his cloak from his throat and drew the garment over both their shoulders. Harry looked across at him, seeing then the tear-tracks down his weary face.

Even though Remus Lupin was not even yet forty, he still appeared haggard and aged beyond his years. Yet there was life gleaming from his amber brown eyes, a spark that Harry had not seen for some time. He paid attention fully for the first time to the scars that cut through his brows. Remus looked over Harry, gazing at him again as if he could scarcely believe he was there in front of him.

He gave a long, heavy sigh. He gazed out to the sea.

"Nothing excuses what I did. Harming people when I have no control as a wolf is bad enough to live with, but harming people I care about when I'm not a wolf…"

"I provoked you," Harry argued. "I'm… I'm just as much to blame… I was egging you on."

"It doesn't matter what you said, Harry," Remus looked at him. He shook his head. "What sort of example am I? You were justifiably angry at me and I responded with violence. It… was unforgivable."

He sighed and looked down at his hands.

"More so… because you've suffered unspeakable violence." He closed his eyes. "And I… I should be protecting you from that, not… not adding to it." Tears leaked down his straggly cheeks.

Harry then grabbed the man's hands, seizing them in his.

"I forgive you. Please stop torturing yourself. I don't want that, okay?" His voice took on a pleading tone that immediately made Remus calm and focus on him. He looked deeply into his eyes and then swallowed, nodding.

"And if you forgive me?"

"I do… you were right…"

"Then, it's water under the bridge," Harry said with a lift of his shoulders. He then smiled at him, causing Remus to give him a rather wolfish grin in return. Harry had only seen that smile flashed towards Sirius. A prankster's smile. Moony's smile.

Remus then studied his face, notably his eyes with sudden interest.

"Dromeda mentioned that they took your glasses… as well as other things."

Harry looked away, his stomach clenching at the raw loss of his wand. He then saw Remus reaching into his robes.

"I returned to our home to get something that should help."

Out from his robes, he drew out a long lozenge shaped box. Harry frowned up at him, puzzled. Remus offered it over to him, passing it. Harry reached a tentative hand, seeing that it was a box made from unpolished wood.

"I should have given you these years ago."

Harry handled the box, rolling it over, seeing the seam and the hinges. He opened it, the springed hinges causing it to snap open. Inside, it was lined with deep red satin. Nestled within were a pair of glasses.

He went completely still. Something old stirred within him. An unfamiliar feeling that he knew to be nostalgia crept through him, warm and writhing. His mouth, slightly parted, was motionless as he gazed at them. He recognised them… but not from pictures.

Harry sucked in a sharp breath as tears dewed in his eyes again.

"I… I remember…"

Remus's smile slid away, his eyes ranging around Harry's face urgently as he dissolved.

"I remember." Harry put his hand over his mouth, stifling the sounds he was making. "I remember…"

A warm hand took his. Harry looked over, seeing Remus's wide eyes.

"What do you remember?"

Harry closed his eyes. It was faint, so faint, but it was a feeling, a thought that came back to him. A strange obsession that he had to take those shiny things off that face. He could feel it, in his hands, the coolness of metal. His ears hummed as if remembering how it felt to hear their voices but he didn't know what they were saying. He didn't understand.

I was too young to understand.

Other feelings joined in. A sweep of joy, a feeling of warmth and a tickle...

Harry felt it then, the memory stirring loose. He remembered reaching for the shiny thing and grabbing it. He did it so much that they gave him a shiny too. He opened his eyes then, his cheeks cold where the tears had leaked out of him. He turned his gaze over to Remus.

"I used to take them off. They were shiny and... I wanted them." He saw Remus's eyes go wide. "I did it so much that…"

"James had a spare pair made for you," Remus's voice was breathless. Harry's eyes went wide then. "Sweet Merlin... you were obsessed with taking James's glasses the moment you could grab. They said you were a born seeker."

They just stared at each other in shared awe. Harry couldn't believe it. His face split into a huge smile, his bottom lip trembling a little. Remus's smile grew too, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"James was close to blind without them so they made another pair so when you snatched his, he didn't have to bounce off the walls." Remus's lip trembled and he went to speak, but found he couldn't. Harry looked down at the glasses in his hands and he understand.

"These are my pair, aren't they?" He asked him. Remus swallowed and nodded.

"Yes… James was… he has his with him…" Harry understood. His dad had been buried with his own pair. The ones before him were the spares... the ones made because baby Harry liked snatching shiny things from his dad's face.

Harry extended a shaking hand into the box and lifted the glasses out. The frames were golden. He raised them above his face, looking through the lenses. His breath hitched.

It can't be… is my eyesight the same as dad's?

Remus fell silent when Harry folded the arms out and took a moment to look down at his father's glasses. They were a lot better put together than his own cheap muggle glasses that only survived as long as they had because of his own charms. The ones in his hands were better designed and, he suspected, made of gold. His family had been rich after all.

Taking a deep breath, Harry carefully put them on. He blinked, the tension easing out of his eyes as the muscles inside relaxed from having to work overtime. The world around him crispened into clarity. He could see the sea, the grey-blue swells cresting and crashing on the dull yellow sands. He could see the grey sky, the odd patches of blue, the yellowish sun gleaming. Then he turned, seeing Remus, seeing him openly weeping.

"Remus…" Harry snapped the box shut and slid it into his own robes. He edged towards the man and brought his own arms around him.

"I'm alright… Harry," Remus said, his voice saying otherwise. He patted Harry on the back as a sign for him to not worry. "I… I'm so proud of you and there… there is something I want to ask you."

Harry drew back. He felt overwrought with emotion and yet, he felt comfortable and happy. Remus grasped his arm, looking intently into Harry's eyes and then asked.

"Will you be godfather to mine and Dora's child?"