The Measure of Happiness

"It's so hard to forget pain, but it's even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace."

-Chuck Palahnuik, Diary-

When Guiomers missive came, Heather nearly wept.

Things had gone so hectic with the four of them, with only some minor help from the apprentices. Hermione was forced to let go of the library and left it to Felicia. Draco did the same to most of his lectures after some prompting from Heather since Meiran could probably quote him, word for word. Luna could not let go of the hospital because doing so would probably cause a riot, so she lent Phobos and Deimos to the others.

The twins were used to doing Luna's organizing and paperwork either way and found it to be very familiar and easy. They also told this to Hermione's face. She nearly popped a blood vessel in holding back her temper.

Hostels, because hotels were apparently not familiar in Arda, sprung up over the economic boom. Heather and Hermione had studied history and knew one mistake could send the economy spiraling downwards too. If either of them were capable of having white hairs – never mind that Heather could have white hairs and nobody would notice because of the multitude of colors in her hair – it would have been liberally sprinkled with white.

To add to the pressure was Prince Theodred.

The prince had arrived in Haven, asking to speak to the town's leader/mayor/ruler and etc. Everybody pointed to the four of them and her three friends pointed to Heather. The prince then gave her a written letter in Westron from his father, King Theoden.

Summarily put, the prince was to learn the sword. The underlying hint was that the king would hear about everything about the while town from the prince's report. Draco's hand signals confirmed that the prince meant no harm.

Bugger! Heather had a burgeoning headache to top it off.

"King Theoden," Draco remarked. "I knew him when he was a prince and I helped cure his father of his deafness."

That drew the prince's attention to him.

"You knew father when grandsire was still alive?" Theodred said. "You look very young."

"Looks can be deceiving," Hermione said. "You can read and write your highness?"

There was a look of royal affront on his face. "Of course," he said coldly.

Relief came over their faces. "Good," Heather sighed. "I made it a requirement in order to learn the sword."

Confusion was on his face. "Why?" he asked. "Soldiers don't need to read."

Heather winced since that always started a Hermione rant. Indeed, she didn't disappoint.

"For the love of the Valar!" Hermione exclaimed. "Intelligence starts with literacy and only then will you start to ask questions. An intelligent soldier can perform more efficiently anyway, and – "

This would have gone on longer but Heather interrupted when she saw Theodred's expression.

"Alright, I think he gets it, Enid," Heather cut in. "You are lucky to have arrived now, though." She elaborated at his questioning look. "The program we created for this takes two years. The next one starts within a week. You can, of course, request for extra lessons if you wish it."

They signaled one of the children to guide him to the more popular hostels. Everybody really worked in Haven. Hermione had even found jobs for the would-be beggars, making them translate languages and giving them a home.

"Merlin's buggering beard," Heather sighed as she slumped against the table. There was a groan somewhere that sounded like Draco and a sigh to her right that was Hermione. Luna plopped to the floor and laughed, prompting all of them to look at her.

"What?" Draco growled.

"I'll say that I'm as tired as anything," Luna said. "But I can't be happier."

That made all of them smile, jolting with them with energy and making them all laugh too. Kreacher then appeared, carrying bread and feeding them. That had been his job ever since the start of the economic rise, when all of them became so busy that eating had become a vague dream.

Of course, when the next program started for learning the sword, a week later, that was when Guiomers letter came, stating that he was given leave to return home within three days.

Heather was extremely tempted to announce a celebration and instead settled for silencing her room and then jumping up and down, screaming loudly.

While Guiomer was busy watching the changes to the town-turned-city, Heather was busy catalouging the changes that had come over him in their time apart.

She took in his ever more impressive height, his happier eyes and his leaner frame. His hair really took after hers since it had been added in with cream, gold and crimson.

"What?" he asked consciously when he noticed her staring. "The hair makes me look funny, doesn't it?"

Heather smiled. "Oh, no. That's like insulting myself, anyway. I just missed you so very much."

He laughed and swung her around in the crowded street. "Oh, my sweet lady mother! You cannot imagine how much I missed you too."

All official stuff was postponed that night as all of them welcomed Guiomer home. Apathetic Phobos surprised everyone by actually being happy at seeing him, saying, "It's good to have you home, Guiomer," he said as though he really cared. Deimos destroyed the moment of shock by continuing his brothers statement, "That way, this lot might actually have time to sleep, so all of us can rest too."

Guiomer only laughed and that set the theme for their mini-party.

When he unpacked that night, Heather watched him with sad eyes and had to stifle a sob. Guiomer heard it anyway and stopped puttering around his room.

"What's wrong, mater?" he asked, wiping away her tears. "Why are you crying?"

"You are growing up so fast," she whispered. "I still remember when you were as big as a smudge, trying you best to lift the sword."

The remembrance of that made her scowl a bit, but it went away quickly when Guiomer cleared a space in his bed and sat her down on it. Then he settled on the floor and placed his head on his mother's lap, just like he used to when he was younger and Heather was less busy. And, like always, Heather combed through his hair and he told her about his day. In this case, the seven months he had stayed with the elves.

"My gift is not as powerful as yours," he said, sounding sleepy. "But it's still stronger than Lord Elrond's. He has me practicing meditation every chance I had. It was as boring as anything."

Lightning quick, he changed topics.

"Oh, by the way, mater, the elves taught me a new sword move. I want to try it on you tomorrow. I may finally be able to put you on your back." Then he yawned, cutting off the rest of his words.

"It's time to sleep, little warrior," she said fondly. "You are starting to eat your words."

He gave a small token of protest but it was a testament to his exhaustion that he didn't have more fuss. Then she arranged his belonging and cleaned the dust with a simple wave of her hand.

The following morning had Guiomer aghast at the errands that seemed to have multiplied in his absence. Heather had dark smudges under her eyes and was drinking the kind of bitter tea that made one want to vomit but had better results than pepper-up. Draco didn't hand her potions if he could help it.

"Why on earth did you stop working yesterday?" he asked.

Heather smiled at him. "You are fairly more important than any work in all of Arda."

That made him blush. He looked away in embarrassment, and then cleared his throat. "So, anything I can do to help?"

Heather hesitated and he looked alarmed. "It isn't paperwork," she assured him. "It's a tad bit more challenging."

"Just the way I like it," he said. "Well?"

Heather placed the cup to the side with a sigh. "It's the prince of Rohan. He's fairly important since Draco read his intentions and all of us know our relations with Rohan will depend on how we're treating the prince. Can you?" she waved her hand to finish the question.

"Will it help you?" he demanded.

She nodded quickly. "Very much so, yes! I'm commissioning the children to watch him and make sure he has all he needs, and they give me continuous reports I have to read over! And if I have to read Pelan's atrocious grammar once more time, I may commit bloody murder."

Guiomer chuckled as he kissed his mothers hands and went off in search of the prince. Guiomer found him in one of the newer city intersections that was decorated by a rearing horse. Prince Theodred was writing in one of the benches that surrounded it.

Surreptitiously, Guiomer glanced around and saw one of the many orphans of the city, watching over the prince like a hawk. He gave the kid a thumbs up and a nod and then child slumped with relief, and then scampered off, most likely to find the next job.

"Hey," he greeted. "Prince Theodred? I'm Guiomer, Lady Gryffons son."

"A pleasure to meet you," the prince answered politely, tucking away his parchment and writing utensils like he did it every day. Theodred looked at Guiomer with a professional eye, and then he said, "You look a lot like your lady mother."

"I get that a lot," he chuckled. "So how is the city treating you?"

Theodred gave him a knowing look and then launched into a wonderful monologue of the city, the lessons and the strange variety of languages that most people in the city spoke. He tapered off with, "But there seems to be a strange emphasis on speed in the lessons. Is it just me, or is it normal?"

Guiomer suppressed the urge to wince at how observant the prince really was. No wonder his father sent him to scout in Haven despite him being only sixteen years old.

"It's normal," he answered as blithely as possible. "The program was created by Lady Gryffon. Most of the teachings were inspired by her. Most of the teachers can't even touch her, so that's probably their frustration showing."

The prince looked shocked. "She is that good?"

"Good and fast," Guiomer clarified. "She was taught by the Dúnedain themselves."

Were those stars shining in his eyes? Bugger, the prince of Rohan had a crush on his mother. Guiomer tried not to think too hard about it.

"Can I spar against her?" the prince demanded.

Now that was a more common response. Guiomer eagerly replied with, "Yes. She spends at least one day every week, sparring in the training courts. It keeps her in shape, she says."

There were more questions about how the city ran, what made it so busy and why there was a lot of orphans in the city.

The last one nearly made Guiomer laugh because he remembered his mothers rant about Pelan, but he held it back by sheer force of will. "The name is Haven, Prince Theodred," he answered. "It is a place of learning, yes, but it is also a place where people come looking for protection, for hope and for a new start. Most of the orphans come from other towns where they were neglected and mistreated. Here, there is a special office just for them, where they are paid on silver coin for every job they accomplish."

"A sense of fulfillment and responsibility," Prince Theodred concluded. There was respect in his face. Understandable since one silver coin was really a lot for a child to have.

"To also make them avoid crime and pick-pocketing," Guiomer added. "And to set them up in the future so they can buy their own house and start their own business."

"They learn how to handle money?" was the last question.

"It is taught in Lady Enids schools. She makes a special point to let the children know about it," he said.

That shocked the prince speechless since those kinds of lessons were only taught to army commanders and nobles. It must have turned his world upside down because he had always been told at birth that the commoners needed the nobles to do the thinking for them.

When the silence stretched out, Guiomer finally stood up and sighed. "I better go. Mother really needs my help."

That made Prince Theodred unfreeze and scramble after him. "Wait, please. Can you take me around the city? I always seem to get lost."

Guiomer finally let out a small laugh. "I'll just get lost too," he said. "I just got back yesterday, and then the next thing I know, the town is now as big as anything."

The prince hooked an arm around Guiomers shoulders. "Then let's get lost together," he said firmly. "And my name is Theodred. Drop the prince bit."

"Much appreciated," Guiomer said. Then he whistled sharply to the child drinking a bit of juice. The boy took one look at Guiomers hair and ran towards him quickly and bowed.

"Lord Guiomer!" the boy cried happily. "You are here! The sweet Lady Gryffon has been rumored to become a large dragon in your absence."

Guiomer choked on that since he could fairly well imagine his mother as a dragon. He coughed then said, "I just got back yesterday. Want to lead me and the prince around the city? It got really huge."

The boy nodded and then turned business-like. "Where do you want to go?"

"The landmarks," Theodred said. "So as to help us from losing our way. Then we can explore by ourselves."

"Well, there's the Rearing Horse in the south of the City, the Dancing Nymph in the north, the Mighty Wizard in the east and Fenny the Fox in the west," the boy recited dutifully. He sounded like he had swallowed a manual. "At the center of the city is the Choosing Square, where Lord Guiomer took the word stuck in the stone," he finished.

Guiomer blinked. "What? Their calling that place the Choosing Square because of me?"

Theodred looked bewildered. "Who is Fenny the Fox?"

"Lady Eilys' pet," the boy answered promptly.

Guiomer recovered from his surprise and tossed the boy a coin. "Thanks boy. What's your name?"

The kid flashed a grin. "It's Pelan, my lord!"

Guiomer nearly asphyxiated in holding back his laughter.

Things settled down when Hermione finished hammering out the committees. There would be bi-monthly meetings but that was it.

The moment the very first committee meeting ended, all four of them took off to the Sanctuary. There was a roaring fire and silence. More importantly, there was no paperwork. The very idea made Heather want to cry, or scream in happiness. She wasn't sure which. They ended up in a pile-up in front of the fire. It was a mixture of limbs, hair and blankets and felt heavenly.

"Of all the Merlin blessed luck," Draco muttered. "You're the only one I know that can make a city and attract a country's attention, Potter."

She hadn't had a proper conversation with Draco in months, let alone an argument, so she welcomed his words, barbs and all.

"I didn't make the city by myself, you know," Heather pointed out. "You factored in that somehow."

"But these kinds of ridiculous things didn't happen to me until I met you, so you might have something to do with it anyway," he shot back.

Hermione laughed and it made Luna giggle too. Draco sighed. "Women! I'm surrounded by women."

There was a silence and Heather wasn't sure if her friends had fallen asleep or what. Heather was drifting off to sleep herself when Luna suddenly spoke up, "We're a city now, right?"

Draco grunted. Luna took it as agreement because she continued, "If we're a city, what do you call the one that leads it? A mayor or a governor?"

"A mayor," Hermione piped up. "Because a governor leads on a much larger scale, usually a large state."

"So what you're getting at," Draco said. "Is that Potter is now a mayor?"

Heather couldn't take it anymore and spoke up. "Guys? I might like the idea that there is an actual hierarchy but can we not call it mayor? Most authority figures I remember were pansy wimps," Fudge was foremost in her mind.

"Would you like to be called Princess, instead?" Draco sniped.

"None of that," she sniped back. "Why me, anyway?"

"You're the sticking charm, feather," Luna said. "You're the one that keeps us all together."

There was silence, and that was equivalent to joyful agreement in Draco's case. In Hermione's case, it meant she was thinking.

"You don't like to be called titles," Hermione said eventually. "So this will be unofficial then. The kind of thing that everybody know but nobody really puts a name to."

"Just like that bull about the Chosen One, except more obscure," Draco added cheerfully. "No titles."

"Yes, Draco. You can still call me Potter and be disrespectful," Heather sighed.

Omake:

When Guiomer met Meiran and the catalyst that made her a bitch

"Hi, I'm Guiomer," he said with his perpetually cheerful smile. This was the general greeting most people had in Haven, so he was completely surprised when the girl, Meiran, burst into tears.

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "Are you alright?"

She hiccupped, large blue eyes looking at him. "I'm sorry, youre just so nice."

Guiomer was aghast. This was Lord Hodur's apprentice? He was going to eat her alive, then dance over her bones.

"Girl," he said seriously. "You have got to grow a backbone."

Okay, somebody asked me why Heather let go of the Sword of Gryffindor. I mean, it is an enchanted sword and is pretty awesome. I would concur with his/her statement…if I didn't know Harry/Heather that well. Remember the first book, where the one thing Harry desired in the whole world were his parents? Well, this is primarily a desire to have a family. In Arda, Heather was trying to look for family. I mean, her siblings were awesome, but there is nothing more wonderful than being a mother and Heather used the sword to find a child.

It wasn't so much as being picky; it was killing two birds with one stone. She didn't know she was immortal yet, you know and she needed somebody to pass the sword to. So she did that.

I don't know if that explanation satisfies you, I just hope nobody gives me another review questioning my sanity about giving away the sword.

It's not about the sword anyway; it's having a companion that was compatible with you all the way.

~Hallen