Chapter 19

"It's only been a day, Ginny. He'll wake."

"Harry, there are people waiting to talk to you."

"Master, please wake."

"My dear boy. You have done it!"

"I wish I understood this. Any of it."

"You think he'd be made of sterner stuff."

"Sirius is telling all sorts of stories about you, Harry. You need to wake up and set the story straight."

"He does not look as I remembered him. Are you sure this is the same Monsieur Ombragė?"

"Maybe the bloke just needs a nap, ever think of that? I know I'd want a nap after all of that."

"I'm going to kiss your girlfriend again, Harry."

It might be wrong to have crawled into Harry's bed with him, but Ginny didn't care. She hadn't slept more than a few minutes since everything had happened. The need to be next to Harry, to keep her eyes on him, lest he disappear again, was too overwhelming.

Hermione had tried to lecture her that it was too early in their relationship to be feeling this way. And Ginny knew that if her mother had any idea where Ginny currently was, she'd be branded a scarlet woman and lectured about the proper way a young lady acted.

None of that mattered when she'd laid down next to Harry and he'd reached for her, even in his sleep. Here, she could hear his breathing, feel the strong beat of his heart beneath her hand, and reassure herself that he was real.

She dozed, in and out, one foot hanging out of the comforter because Harry was a hot sleeper. The only one who had seen her was Dobby, who had placed himself at the door to the dormitory, standing guard. He'd let her inside with a knowing smile and promised that they would not be disturbed.

Harry's hand in her hair woke her, and Ginny blinked up at him. But his eyes were still closed, and she thought he was dreaming. SHe let her fingers trace the line of his nose, and then gently brushed the scar, now scabbed over. It stood out prominently on his forehead and she wondered what type of magic he'd used to hide it all these years. It wasn't anything like the Harry she knew-who was really a boy named Draco Malfoy, it turned out.

It was all still so confusing. And Ron wasn't taking any of it well. He was surly and snapped at everyone. No, that wasn't true. He would talk to George and Luna, but not even their parents could seem to make headway in getting him to talk. When Ginny tried, he'd just walked away from her. Her father had patted her on the shoulder and asked her to give Ron time while he grieved.

Ginny let her fingers glide over Harry's cheekbones, and down to his lips. He stirred when she touched them, and pulled her closer when she leaned in and kissed him. The kiss wakened him more, and he returned it, his hands grasping and clutching in a way that made Ginny want to lose control.

"Harry."

He hummed her name, blinking sleepy eyes, his lips turning up at the corners.

"Not how I expected to wake up."

"You've been asleep for more than two days."

His eyes went wide and he reached over her to the bedside table, fumbling for his glasses. Something clattered to the floor; she thought it might be the wand he'd used.

"Two days." He thought about that before leaning in and kissing her again. Ginny clung to him, lifting the edge of his pyjama shirt to touch the skin there. He flinched-ticklish, it seemed-but didn't break the kiss. Ginny decided it was worth pushing her luck a little and ran her hands up onto his chest. This time the flinch was accompanied with a groan of pain. Ginny pulled back and blinked at him.

"Sorry." He pulled away and tugged his shirt down.

"Let me see, Harry."

"It's early," he mumbled.

She scowled. "It's nearly noon. And what does the time-"

"I meant...early for us." His cheeks flamed and she shook her head as she realized what he'd thought she meant with her exploring hands and eagerness to see his chest.

"You're hurt," she said. "I want to see."

"Oh."

The moment grew awkward before Harry shook his head. "Sorry, I just… I thought you meant…"

"It is early. And we're not ready. At least, I'm not yet."

"Okay." This seemed to mollify him and he began to slowly unbutton the top. "This is where-"

"The curse," she whispered. The bruise there was dark and angry, spreading across his chest and ribs. She wondered if there would be another scar, but didn't feel right in asking. Quickly, he buttoned his shirt back up and pulled away slightly, looking up at the dark red canopy above him.

"I died." It was said as if he'd just remembered, or possibly just realized. Ginny wasn't sure the exact sequence of events that had happened in the forest between watching Harry leave and when she'd finally convinced the Order to help him.

"I know," whispered Ginny.

"I saw my parents. But...I wanted to come back. I...I needed to come back."

"I'm so glad you did." She tried to hide the tear that slipped out and ran down her cheek.

He turned to her. "I don't know what to do now."

The wonder in his voice made her laugh a little. "You do what you want, Harry."

"I don't…" He shook his head. She could tell that his mind was racing, thoughts flowing in and out, churning wheels.

"Harry." She rested her hand on his cheek, pulling his focus back to her. "You do what you want. Not what you're supposed to do, or what some prophecy says. You fly a little, kiss me a little, have a pint if you want one…"

"Okay."

She lay back down in his embrace, careful not to put any pressure on his bruised chest. Madam Pomfrey hadn't said anything about broken bones that she'd overheard.

"I think I could kiss you a lot."

Ginny smiled and slipped two fingers between the buttons of his shirt, resting them on his sternum, in the place where the bruise was most angry.

"Ginny...is everyone…"

"We're okay. You know about Har-Draco. And Snape."

"I saw them."

"George got a burn to his face." She shuddered at the memory of the nasty red welt. "We'll always be able to tell them apart now."

"Fred lost two fingers. Not even sure how that happened. He might have blown them off himself, barmy ass. He and Seamus were using explosives. Madam Pomfrey offered to try to regrow them, but Fred won't hear any of it."

"You?"

"Minor cuts and scrapes."

Harry pressed a kiss to her forehead and left his lips there, his breathing deepening as he slipped off to sleep again.

It took the rest of the day to get him on his feet, but he was tired of being waited on and babied. Sirius hadn't stopped taking the piss the entire time, but when he'd walked in and found Ginny and Harry kissing again, he'd congratulated Harry on using the situation in the wisest way possible. Ginny had hexed him and they'd heard him tap dancing all the way down the dormitory stairs.

Harry forgot to respond to his name sometimes and found himself restless, waiting for some mission, or something else to draw his attention. He knew he should talk to Dumbledore, but

Neither of them seemed inclined to have the conversation, so Harry didn't push.

He was sitting in the stands at the half-destroyed Quidditch pitch, watching George, Bill, and Ginny chase each other around on brooms when Ron came to sit next to him. Ron hadn't said a word to Harry since he'd woken, in fact he usually left the room when Harry entered.

And Harry couldn't blame him. There was much that even Harry didn't understand about the events that had transpired and led up to Draco's decision to challenge Voldemort. How could he even hope to explain them to Ron?

They watched in silence as Harry imagined himself trying to start a conversation. He thought of various phrases to say, but they were all forced, all trite.

"She was born to fly," Ron finally said.

Harry smiled. He could talk about Ginny.

"It sure appears that way."

"You fly together often."

"Almost every day." Harry missed flying with her, missed their quiet conversations up in the air where nobody else could hear them, and the rapport they had built.

"She never liked Harry." Ron made a face when he said it, opened his mouth to correct himself, and then shook it away.

Harry was quiet, waiting for him to continue. He remembered her comments about how persistent Draco was and how he just wouldn't listen to her.

"But she likes you."

"We're two different people."

Ron was quiet again for a long period of time and Harry thought that this small chance he'd been given might be slipping away. Ron had obviously come up with some sort of agenda on his mind, but was losing his nerve, or just couldn't find the right words.

"I'm sorry for his loss."

"I wondered." Ron leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and staring out as his siblings passed a quaffle between them.

"I was pretty angry when he died. There seemed to be no purpose in it. But, after...well, after everything, I think that he didn't die in vain."

"What do you mean? He was a decoy for you, he shouldn't have even been there." Ron's face was turning red and Harry knew he'd found the pressure point.

"I agree."

"You should have...had the guts to do something to stop him."

Harry pushed away the annoyance and anger that erupted and sat up taller. He tried to remember that Ron was speaking from a place of grief, not necessarily rational thinking. "He was your best friend."

"Damn right."

"And you tried to stop him."

"Of course."

"Did anything you say help? Did it make him turn around and change his mind?"

Ron's mouth dropped open and then snapped closed.

"We all have our choices in this life. Draco had his, Ron. Nobody forced him to make the choice that he did. Yes, he was influenced by things that were outside his control-"

"A prophecy that wasn't even about him."

"Yes, the prophecy."

"That was about you."

Harry had already discussed this guilt with both Ginny and Sirius. He would forever carry some of it, but so would Dumbledore, and Snape, and even Ron himself.

"Yes. It was about me. I learned of it only after Draco's death."

"But you knew there was someone out there posing as you," Ron said. "You had to know there would be consequences."

"You're right," Harry said. "The choices I made affected other people. And the choices Draco made affected people, too. The choices we all make ripple outward, affecting everyone. And I'm sorry that he died. I'm sorry that you lost your friend. But he didn't die in vain. He sacrificed himself and bought us time. That time was necessary to…" He clamped his mouth shut, unwilling to talk about the horcruxes.

"Time to do what was necessary to defeat Voldemort. You may see that as a waste of his life, but who are you to say that it wasn't necessary, that his sacrifice wasn't essential to Voldemort's defeat. Because I'm here to tell you that it was. So, I'll remember Draco, Ron, every day that I wake up. He made it possible for me to do what I needed to do."

Unable to take it any longer, Harry snatched the broom he'd brought with him and mounted it, flying off to join the game.

They chose Grimmauld Place, mostly because they'd all grown tired of Hogwarts Castle, and there were no connections there with anyone who had died.

Sirius poured generous amounts of firewhiskey in each glass and levitated it around to everyone. Remus sat staring into the fire, on the same sofa with Dumbledore. Sirius and Harry had pulled armchairs close and even Dobby had moved his small chair into the semicircle.

They'd buried Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape, and several others who had given their lives in defeating Voldemort today. There ceremony, held on the charred, broken Hogwarts grounds was solemn and stirring. Sirius had found himself staring at the castle and wondering if it would be ready to reopen in the Fall. But then he'd looked around at those attending the service and realized that they would make it happen, no matter what.

"Where's your wife?" he leaned over and asked Harry.

"You do realize that we haven't even gone out on one date yet."

"Dating possibilities were a little thin on the ground the past few weeks, I would suppose," Remus murmured.

"Quite," Harry said. "We were supposed to go the night…" He shook his head and Sirius wondered just what was on his mind. Harry had been unusually quiet about his experiences facing Voldemort. He suspected that Ginny knew more than anyone else, the way they would slip away and whisper in dark corners of the castle the last few days, faces pinched, body language intense.

"How do Ginny's parents feel about the two of you being together?" Sirius asked.

Harry laughed. "They're still confused about it all-"

"As we all are," Remus said.

"-but Ginny said they think I'm a 'fine, upstanding young man."

Sirius barked out a laugh. "Apparently they haven't heard-"

"No," said Harry. "They haven't connected the dots just yet."

Sirius winced. "Well…"

"Ginny decided to stay home with her mum tonight," Harry said with a sigh. "Mrs. Weasley is still fretting about everything, furious that she felt so distant from it all and that her children were in danger."

"How is Fred?"

Harry smirked and leaned back into his chair, sipping at the drink Sirius had given him. "Giving high three's all over the place."

"And George?"

"The Misters Weasley have always had a knack for making the best of their situations," said Dumbledore.

He too had been particularly quiet and Sirius watched him, wondering if he was dealing with some of the same demons that Harry was.

"I believe it is time, Mr. Potter."

All eyes turned to Harry, whose eyebrows rose. "Why start with me? I don't remember anything at all about how this all started."

Instead, they turned to look at Dobby, who was sipping at a small glass of Butterbeer.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Dobby, if you wouldn't mind, tell us your side of the story?"

"Dobby remembers that night," the elf said in a small voice. "Dobby's masters-the nasty Malfoys-had been supporters of...of…" He took in a shuddering breath and continued on. "The night Master Harry's parents…" He glanced up at Harry, who gave him a steadying look. "Dobby heard them say they would look for the Boy Who Lived, that they would take him. Dobby couldn't let that happen, he had to do something."

"Quite right," Sirius said. Even though he'd always thought that the Malfoy's threats were all talk, he didn't blame Dobby for feeling as if he'd needed to step in.

"They wanted to 'raise him right'," Dobby said. "But Dobby knew what that meant. He'd seen the way they treated their own child. And the way they treated the other house elves…" He shook his head, his ears bobbing. "Dobby could not allow that to happen. So, Dobby waited and dropped the Mistress's expensive tea set. Dobby knew they would beat him, but they also gave him clothes. It was what Dobby wanted. Dobby took the child and he went to Surrey. And he waited."

Dumbledore held up his hand, dismissing any further painful recitations of the story. "Thank you, Dobby. I understand now."

"And now Master Malfoy is dead. And Master Draco."

"But both helped our cause in the end," Harry said. He was staring down at the drink in his hand. "Lucius tripped Voldemort at the end."

"And Bellatrix Lestrange killed him for it," Sirius said. He shook his head at the thought of the huge mess that the Ministry was still sorting out.

Sirius stood and refilled everyone's glass, topping Dobby's butterbeer off as the elf watched with wide eyes.

"I want to know how the two of you connected," Remus said, pointing to Sirius and Harry.

Sirius grinned and clapped his hands, rubbing them together.

"Oh, here we, go," Harry muttered.

"Young Harry here was already into his vigilante persona by the time I'd escaped Azkaban."

"How did you escape?"

But Sirius held up his hand. "Another question for another time, Moony, my friend. I'd seen a glimpse of Peter, the rat, in the newspaper, and knew that I had to get to him. I broke out and went searching."

"And that's where I come in," Harry said. "I was hired by the Minister of Magic-although he attempted to use an alias-to track Sirius down and take him back to Azkaban."

Dumbledore sighed. "Oh, Cornelius."

"When I finally caught up to him, we got to talking, and I knew that I couldn't turn him in. I returned the Ministry's money, told them to piss off, and-"

"And then locked me away in this lovely prison until last week."

Harry looked abashed. "It was for your own good."

Remus and Dumbledore exchanged a look and then both began laughing.

"When did you learn who you were, Harry?"

"Oh, Dobby was always honest with me."

Dobby, who was slouched down in his seat, eyes glazed, and a crooked smile on his face, only nodded and hiccupped.

"I always knew who I was and what had happened. And, deep down, I think I knew that one day I would… But not for sure until after Draco faced him."

"Yes," sighed Dumbledore. "Draco."

"How could you not have known?" Sirius asked him.

"Should I have? The concealment was done very convincingly. I kept my distance and knew nothing of Harry until he came to Hogwarts. You must remember that elf magic is very different from ours. If you do not suspect it, you don't think to look for it."

Dobby let out a little snore and curled further into his seat, contently drunk.

"I assume that is how you didn't fall to the traps protecting the horcruxes," he told Harry. "Lord Voldemort would not have suspected a house elf of being capable of foiling his enchantments."

"Right. At least that's what I assume happened," said Harry. "It's not like we set out looking for them, you realize. It just sort of...happened."

"Indeed. And thank Merlin it did," said Dumbledore. "Severus and I were making very little headway in finding them. To have two destroyed and sitting on my desk one morning…" He shook his head.

Harry and Sirius exchanged a grin. Breaking into Hogwarts had been fun. Sirius had broken out many times during his school years there, and could now say they'd done it twice. It was the one mission that Harry had allowed him to go on.

"What will you do now, Harry? More work as Blackheart?"

"No." Harry shook his head. This didn't surprise Sirius. The last year had been weighing heavily on Harry. The missions had gotten harder and harder to accept, and the longing for a normal life clawed at him. Sirius had seen it, and understood it.

"I don't...I don't know for sure," he said. "I still have a job…"

"Probably not anymore," Remus said with a shake of his head. "The Daily Prophet has already been covering Great Britain with parchment. You'll be lucky if you can even step foot outside without someone recognizing you."

Harry scowled. "Great."

"This too shall pass," Dumbledore assured him. "Give it some time."

"You could always do security consulting," Sirius said. "You already have the connections, after all. This time, just do it legally."

"Possibly."

There would be time, Sirius knew. Harry would find what he wanted to do. They all would, as a matter of fact.

"What about you, Padfoot?"

Sirius grinned. "I'll be doing a bit of consulting, myself."

They all looked at him.

"The Weasley Twins have hired me for research and development, on an as-needed basis. It's not like I need the cash, anyway. What about you, Moony?"

"Not sure, just yet," Remus said. "It's not like the offers are pouring in."

"You'll find something," Harry said.

"And you?" Sirius asked Dumbledore.

"Hiring a new potions professor, it appears. And Professor Sprout has decided to retire. It seems as if I will be quite busy this summer."

"I may find that I miss old Snivellus," Sirius said.

They lapsed into silence, listening to the crackle of the fire and the soft snores of Dobby.