Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny stood together in the ruins, staring down upon the utter destruction they had caused. Harry felt tears run down his cheeks, but he hardly noticed, because a strand of Ginny's vivid red hair had caught his eye, and he watched as the breeze gently wiped the hair and tears from Ginny's face, and she grabbed Harry's hand tightly as they continued to stand there in silence.

After a few moments, Ron groaned and slid down against the wall, coming to rest against it. He grabbed his bandaged side with a grimace.

Hermione sat down next to him, and huffed. "Well, it is your own fault for leaving the Healers' wing so soon, isn't it?" She glanced up at Harry, "And that goes for you, too."

Harry grinned down at her. "There will be plenty of time to heal, Hermione. We made sure of that. We are allowed to enjoy the moment."

"Besides," said Ginny, with a sideways glance at Hermione, "we are all pretty beaten down after that fight. You looked terrible, after you had fired that arrow. Drained." Hermione looked down, frowning.

"Yeah," Ron said gloomily, "A bunch of heroes, we were. All the saving we needed by the King's men..."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "You know that's not true. King Albus said himself that if not for the rebels' distraction, his army never would have made it as far as they had without detection, and Riddle's men could have easily overpowered them. Besides, Harry killed Riddle. They always said around the castle that he was impossible to defeat, so that would not have been easy even for the King's own men..."

"Yeah," said Hermione, tugging at Harry's leg to make him sit down; Ginny followed suit, "Are you ready to talk about what happened yet?"

"I already told you," Harry shrugged. "I'm not sure I know myself. One moment I was facing the most powerful swordsman alive, the next it was like... it was like I was possessed or something, like the sword was fighting on its own and I was like... it's instrument, or something." He looked around at them all, defiantly. "I know, I know, it sounds crazy."

"Actually," Hermione mused, and Harry looked at her in surprise. She was the last person he would have expected not the dismiss the notion straight away for its lack of logic, "It doesn't. I have read accounts of your family, and of your family's sword. Did you know it has been passed down for generations, from father to son, as long as anyone can remember? There are legends, they say that there are four swords all with... abilities, of some kind, and that they all belong to old families who are connected in some way. And that once the owner of the sword perishes, part of them lives on, in the sword, adding energy to it and helping to guide and protect the next bearer. I mean, they are only legends of course," she added quickly, seeing the three others listening intently. "But..."

"But?" Harry asked, feeling something stir inside him.

"Well, I did read that the swords supposedly recognise one another... and there is one legend, which I remember because I used to dream about it when I was younger, which said... 'And once again fire will clash with the flame, and the lion will crush the serpent in its paws, extinguishing darkness and freeing a new and brighter light'. And I always thought... well, fire, that is the red in your sword, right? While Riddle's sword..."

"Green," Harry breathed, "Green emeralds."

All eyes turned to the ruby-hilted sword, which lay glimmering in the sunlight, twinkling brightly.

The silence was broken by Ron's snort. "Yeah, right. Are you going to tell me you believe in magic now too, Hermione?"

Hermione punched him lightly in the arm, and Ron, mock-affronted, pushed Hermione, who pushed him right back, which made Ginny laugh. Harry smiled, shaking his head and tearing his eyes away from the sword, looking instead at his friends.

A cough behind them broke up the little fight, and the four adolescents turned to find King Albus, dressed in a magnificent purple robe, and by his side stood Arthur of Burrow, looking at Ron and Ginny nervously.

"Oh," Ginny said, jumping to her feet and dusting off her dress, curtsying for the king and smiling at her father.

"Lady Ginevra," Albus smiled, bowing his head slightly in acknowledgment, "Ronald. I believe you are both in high demand elsewhere."

Ron's ears had turned a bright red and he mumbled something that sounded like "wobblewort" and looked anywhere but at the aging redheaded man before him. Ginny smiled, and grabbed his hand, helping him stand up and leading him away, following in the wake of Arthur. Ron looked back at Harry and Hermione desperately, but Hermione only shrugged and smiled, and Harry gave him a thumbs-up. Ron turned to Ginny, looking terrified, but she only shook her head and continued to pull him along, down a corridor and out of sight.

King Albus smiled, his eyes following the retreating redheads wistfully. "Ah, a family reunited." He turned back to Harry and Hermione, who continued to sit with their backs to the wall, looking up at him. "Is there anything more moving than that?" He smiled, blue eyes twinkling.

"Sir," Hermione said, as the king bent and sat himself down on the ground next to them. It was very strange, this meeting of royalty, but of course Harry and Hermione had no clue about any protocol, and Albus himself had been away from his throne for a long time. There were more important things, "May I...?"

"Ask away, my dear," Albus said kindly.

"Well it's just... why did you not come back sooner?" she blurted out, seemingly wanting to get it all out before she changed her mind. "When you learned that Lord Riddle had seized the throne, why did you not return and help us?" She couldn't help the tears which formed in her eyes, but she kept her gaze steady and her voice unwavering.

King Albus sighed heavily. "I did," he said quietly.

"But-"

"I am ashamed to say that I was outwitted by the... Dark Lord, as you call him," Albus continued, shame in his voice. "The messengers brought me frequent news of Lord James' acts in my stead, you must understand. I was not to know that little Peter Pettigrew was the traitor... I took his visits to mean that everything was as it should be. I even..." his voice cracked a little here, and Harry was surprised to see a single tear roll down the old man's cheek, "extended my stay with my dear old friend Gellert, for much longer than planned... I thought the kingdom was thriving without me." He looked away, his eyes taking in the ruined courtyard. "When word finally did reach me... you must understand, every person Riddle considered a liability was hunted down and killed; his only real opposition was in Mugglewood, but I never visited there... But when I began to hear rumours that something was amiss, I took my men, and some of Gellert's too, and voyaged back here as fast as the ships would take us. And when I arrived, when I saw the state of my kingdom... I knew I had failed."

The king looked so defeated, it was hard to witness. Harry awkwardly reached out a hand, patting Albus on arm. Albus looked down, surprised, then he looked at Harry and smiled. "So very like your mother," he breathed. "But you look just like your father." He shifted his gaze to Hermione suddenly, looking her over, "You, on the other hand..." he broke off. "Oh but of course, you have no idea..." He stood up suddenly. "Follow me."

Hermione and Harry scrambled to their feet, half-running to keep up with the surprisingly agile king, who was rushing down a corridor leading off the courtyard. They followed him up some stairs, into spacious chambers that held a number of traveling cases. Servants who had been in the process of unpacking stood up straight when Albus entered, bowing and backing out of the room.

"Thank you," Albus called distractedly, and headed straight for a smaller box over by the window. Behind him, Harry and Hermione glanced at each other in confusion.

"Now, I know I kept these... yes, see, it was very important... James gave them to me just in case anything... oh but why he thought I would be the right person..."

Albus continued to mumble, but Harry was hardly listening. James, his father, had given Albus something. So far all Harry had ever owned of his father's was the ruby sword, and as much as it had helped him, the idea that there was something else that he could touch, hold, that his father had owned...

"Ah!" Albus exclaimed, turning around and holding two envelopes, sealed shut and addressed in clear, red ink. Harry saw the front envelope carried his name. "These two letters were given to me by your father, when we discussed him taking on the responsibilties of the crown while I was away," Albus said, smiling sadly. "You see, the prospect of moving his family across the kingdom, what with the uncertain waves that unsettled everyone back then, James wanted to leave a... security, if you will, a last will and testament in case anything happened to him and Lily. He... trusted me with this." The old man looked much older just then, burdened by the weight of his mistakes. "But now, I am finally able to do something right."

And with that, he handed Harry one of the letters. Harry grasped it, drinking in the curls of the letters, the bright red ink which his father himself had penned. He hardly noticed as Albus turned to Hermione, and handed her the second letter.

"And for you, my dear," Albus said gravely. Harry turned in surprise, to find Hermione holding a letter identical to his own, but which read, 'Hermione' in the same handwriting, with the same coloured ink. Hermione looked down at the envelope bemusedly, then up at Harry, who was just as confused as she was. Albus cleared his throat. "I think I will let your parents explain it to you themselves. If you will have me excused." He nodded and turned, leaving the room and closing the door gently behind him.

Harry and Hermione were left standing stock-still, each holding a letter. "I... dont understand," Hermione said. "Why is there a letter to me?"

Harry shook his head. "Let us open them, and find out."

There was a fireplace in the room, in front of which stood a number of comfortable-looking arm chairs. Harry and Hermione selected adjacent ones and settled down into them; Hermione brought her feet up under her, still unable to tear her eyes off the letter.

"Alright," Harry said, "Hermione?" she started, and looked up at him. "I'm opening mine."

Hermione said nothing, but nodded, and together they tore open the seals, each pulling out a number of sheets of paper. Harry took a deep breath and immersed himself in how own, determined to soak up every word written.

'Dear Harry,

I know this letter must be difficult for you to read, because James specifically instructed King Albus to pass it on to you only at the event of our passing. It feels strange, writing a letter to you like this, as I sit by the windowsill in your nursery, watching you play in your cot. I love that smile on your face, and it pains me beyond belief to imagine a world in which safety and happiness has been ripped away from you, leaving you with little left to smile about. I only hope that in the case of this event, you will manage to find others in your life who can bring you the same kind of joy which I have found in you and in my husband.

I want to tell you, Harry, that your father and I love you with all our hearts. I have loved you from the moment I first set eyes upon you, and I will continue to love you forevermore - regardless of however long I remain with you in this world. But I hope you never read this, I hope that I get to watch you grow up and become the man I know that you will be. Strong, and brave, and handsome like your father.'

Here Harry paused, smiling. He hoped his mum would be proud of who he had become.

'But there is another matter which I need to explain to you,' the letter continued, 'one of which hopefully you will already be aware, but which I none the less need you to fully understand, in case myself or James are not around to answer your questions about why we made this crucial decision. We are currently preparing for our journey to the castle of Hogswarth, where we will remain for however long King Albus will be away. We are taking you with us - but we have chosen to leave behind our daughter, your twin sister, for the time-'

Harry blinked. His what? He shook his head; he must still be exhausted, he must be misreading. He looked again, determined to read it right this time.

'-your twin sister, for the time being. You must understand Harry that these are treacherous times, and it was not an easy choice for us. We love you both equally, but ultimately we were advised that should something go wrong (which I pray it will not), we must consider the future of our line, and despite how well we will be protected, taking both of our children on a week-long journey through territory known for its treacherous lakes and dangerous predators would be folly. We hope that splitting you up is the best way to secure your safety, and we are planning to reunite the two of you as soon as possible. Indeed, I can hardly imagine separating you; you were inseparable from the day you were born.

It is my biggest fear that something will happen to either one of you, but I have none the less written you each a separate letter, in case... well, in case it is necessary. Also included is a copy of our last will and testament, which will of course split our properties and treasury between you equally, granted that you are both in a fit state to command it.

Harry, my dear child, I wish nothing but the best for you, and just know that your father and I will always be with you and Hermione.

All my love,

Your mother Lily'

Harry finished the letter, but somehow could not bring himself to move, or breathe. He continued to stare down at that one, impossible word: 'Hermione'.

He looked up, over at the adjacent chair. There Hermione sad, her own letter clutched tightly to her chest, silent tears rolling down her cheeks.

Slowly, she raised her eyes, meeting Harry's. The shock was mirrored on their faces, and Harry thought it was oddly fitting, how in that moment they must truly look like twins.