Well, this is is, ladies and gentlemen - the final chapter. Well, the final chapter of this part of Liz's story. I'm so excited that this is all complete, because now I can concentrate more fully on the sequel, Seeking Hope. There are so many good things going on so far in that story, so I'm particularly anxious to get going. Hopefully it won't be too long until that comes about, but be on the lookout for it! Moving on to actually talking about this chapter...I'm rather pleased with how it turned out. The ending's a bit fuzzy and there are lose ends that aren't tied up, but that's what a sequel is for, am I right?! :D This chapter is extra long too, to make up for the last one's shortness. So, for the final time (for now!)...enjoy. :)
Chapter Eight – The Choice
When Liz awoke, she was in an unfamiliar room on a rather uncomfortable bed. The wall to her left was made up entirely of an enormous window and accompanied window seat that bathed the room in a soft mid-morning glow. She blinked slightly at it, attempting to adjust her vision to the unexpectedly bright light. On the windowsill sat two forms, one on each side, their backs resting against the opposite walls as they slept. The blonde, along the farther side, awkwardly leaned with his head in the crook of his elbow. The brunette, directly beside her, was dangerously close to losing his glasses, which barely dangled from the tip of his nose. Neither man noticed that she had gained consciousness.
Only vaguely recalling what last had happened and how she may have come to be here, Liz looked down at her hand, certain that her ring held some significance in her attempts to understand. The keepsake was gone, leaving only a pewter colored shading indicating where it once sat. A surge of panic rushed through her at its loss, but was quickly interrupted by the sound of someone at her door.
Alex stood awkwardly in the entrance way, his face wracked in worry and fear. He immediately noticed she was awake and visibly eased, the tension falling from his shoulders as he rushed to her side.
"You're okay," he whispered, resting his forehead against the bed sheet by her wrist. "My God, that was terrifying. Don't ever do that again, you hear?"
She reached over to toy familiarly with his ponytail, a faint upturn at her lips. "I'll do my best, but I can't guarantee anything. Potions mistress, after all."
He raised his head to shoot a glare at his incapacitated friend. "Not anymore. From now on, you're to be locked away in a padded room, unable to harm anyone, yourself especially. You give too many people minor heart attacks when something happens to you."
She laughed quietly, but the sound reached one of her two sleeping partners. Draco wearily lifted his lids, absentmindedly stretching and kicking Harry in the knee in the process. With a soft oof, the second man awoke, snatching to fix his spectacles and sending a growl to his sill mate. Draco smirked in response before his silvery eyes widened, finally realizing what woke him up and bolting to Liz's side.
"Liz," he murmured, copying Alex's motions to kneel opposite him. "Finally."
"How do you feel?" Harry asked, green eyes studying her intently for physical injury. She reached to grasp his hand and gave it a squeeze.
"Exceptionally well looked after, actually," she laughed, bringing a grin to her cousin's face. "What happened? Where's my ring?"
Harry sat on the bed beside her, keeping a firm grip on her. "The simple answer is that you did something particularly stupid and ended up here for three days completely knocked out." Groaning, she shoved his arm, but his only response was to grin wider.
"What Potter is attempting to say and failing at miserably," Draco interjected, an eyebrow raised, "is that you attempted to destroy the ring and succeeded with somewhat…uncomfortable results."
A flash of memory came back to her, bringing images of blue light and piercing fire racing through her. She frowned, shaking her head until it sent a shot of pain radiating through her scull. Cringing, she remarked, "Believe me, I am fully aware of the remarkably foolish choice I made. The result is painfully apparent – literally. That still doesn't explain what happened to the ring."
"Well…it may have…kind of…melted into your skin?" Harry said questioningly, as if even he wasn't entirely sure what took place. Draco gave a great sigh as Liz glanced between them, completely baffled.
"Eloquent as always, Potter," he growled, shaking his head in irritation. When his attention returned to Liz, his expression softened greatly. "After the explosion, you gave a large twitch and fell to the floor. Before we could react, waves of power began to radiate from the ring, until…well, as he said, it melted into your skin. That mark is all that remains."
She considered the scar more closely, a slightly hollow feeling in her chest. "So it's just…gone? There's no way to get it back?" Draco shook his head in reply, his face pained. She frowned down at the offending hand, desperately fighting back tears. "It was all I had left of them…"
"Oh Lizzie," Alex sighed, speaking for the first time since their English cohorts awoke. Liz turned to him to take in his devastated appearance. "I'm so, so sorry." She reached for his offered hand, taking it gratefully in her own. It was more reassuring than she ever cared to admit, being surrounded by some of the most important figures in her life, loved and supported. She huffed out a breath and gave a sudden, determined nod.
"It doesn't matter," she declared, straightening herself slightly. "It's done, and there's little anyone can do about it now. More importantly, did it break the curse? If not, I am long overdue to feel like an even more complete idiot."
Harry and Draco gave each other a conspiratorial glance, almost convincing Liz that they could possibly be friends. Before anyone could answer, however, Alex's fist flew to his forehead, pounding himself lightly in irritation. "Oh! I almost forgot!" Turning toward the door, Alex flicked his wand, shooting it open. The small body that came darting in instantly searched the room, giving a small whimper as it took in the woman on the bed. With a squeal of delight, Liz reached out for the tiny beast.
"Puck! Alex, you're my favorite!" The Cavalier King Charles spaniel did his best to jump up on the large piece of furniture, his legs just barely short enough to allow him the ability. Chuckling lightly, Alex lifted him to his owner's side, where she instantly snuggled her familiar close. The dog's tongue lolled out the edge of his mouth excitedly as he nuzzled Liz right back.
"I planned to give him back to you the night I arrived, but…well, obviously that didn't work out," the man muttered, attempting and failing to hide his discomfort. "He was practically frantic without you. I don't think it ever occurred to him that you would go away, so far and for so long, without taking him with you. Why didn't you, by the way?"
She sighed contentedly, unreasonably happy to have the fuzzy body in her arms. "I didn't think I'd be away this long. I'm so sorry, Puck; forgive me?"
The creature looked up at her seriously, as if pondering his response, before licking her once on the tip of her nose. She smiled down at him before burying her face in his fur once more. Her eyes shot up briefly to send Alex a grateful look.
He shrugged, replying, "He was driving me crazy anyway. I don't do well with dogs, if you remember. I'm much more of a cat person – they're significantly less…needy."
"A dog familiar," Draco grunted, somewhat disgruntled and pleased at the same time. "How utterly American."
"Ah, but a King Charles," Harry noted in reply, unable to keep the grin from his face. "Distinctly English. The ideal combination." The sound of someone clearing their throat brought all of their attentions back to the open door, where a Healer in atrociously lime green robes watched them. Taking in the scene before her, she gave a small smile.
"Ah, Miss Potter. I suspected you would be rejoining us soon." She bustled to Liz, shooing the men away so that she could perform a series of complex diagnostic spells. Nodding to herself as she studied the results, she returned her attention to the young witch. "Everything appears to be in order, though I'd still like to keep you around for observation a bit longer. Your case is unusual, making it a bit difficult to expect any possible side effects." Stealing a glance at Harry, she smirked. "Besides, it may be best to prepare you for what's awaiting you outside. The press is rather…enthusiastic to meet you." As she exited the room, Liz groaned once more.
"Hopefully that answered your question," Draco remarked, straightening his robes as he stood. "As much as I'd rather stay, I must check in at the office to ensure that Collins hasn't completely ruined the entire department in my absence. I'll return as soon as possible," he added in an undertone, gripping her shoulder once firmly. Liz responded with a grateful smile and shooed him away, watching as he left. Before the door had even shut behind him, George burst through it. He glanced hurriedly about the room, his eyes coming to rest on Liz.
"You really are awake," he muttered, walking slowly to the bed. "Bloody hell, woman, you gave us quite the fright."
"It wasn't by choice, believe me." She paused, considering the situation, her palm absentmindedly resting on Puck's back. "Actually, it technically was, and I really have no one to blame but myself. So…sorry?"
George replied with his token Weasley grin. "The next time you want to go blowing things up, Liz, just owl me. I've got plenty of products to do the trick without causing any actual bodily harm." She chuckled, causing his grin to widen. "Honestly, though, could you maybe not do this ever again? There are better ways of gaining media attention."
She grimaced, stealing a glance at Harry. "Is it really that bad?"
He appeared to seriously consider before answering. "If the Prophet put this much effort into any tidbit of real news, we would have known Voldemort was on his way back before Sirius had even escaped from Azkaban, and we could have finished that whole business by fourth year. Unfortunately, the paper has the tendency to focus a bit too forcefully on the more ridiculous aspects of life, like the possible romances of a group of teenagers, than something actually newsworthy. Not that this all isn't terribly important, of course."
Attempting to cover her smirk, she replied with her own, "Of course." They all continued to talk companionably of trivial topics, George and Harry only slightly sharp with Alex. Sensing the tension, he took his leave not long afterwards, vowing to see her the next day. George eventually followed, leaving the cousins finally alone.
"It's all out there, then," Liz stated, Harry still seated at her side in the bed. "Everyone remembers."
She felt Harry nod into her shoulder and saw him reach out to scratch her pet behind his ears. "Yes. It also turns out that you were born here – the Weasleys met you before Dumbledore cast the spell. Guess you really are English after all."
She frowned, unsure how to take the news. "In a way, I suppose, but Alex is right – I was raised in America, I'm more American than anything. I don't know where I belong."
Harry looked down at her, a touch of sadness in his gaze. "You'll be going home, then? To America?"
"I never said that." She sighed, throwing her head back against the pillows. "I don't know what I'm going to do."
He gave her hand a squeeze and stood, looking down at her affectionately. "Don't worry about it now; you'll have plenty of time to consider once you're well."
Realizing the truth of his words, she nodded a final time before slipping back into sleep.
Two days later, Liz was finally allowed to leave St. Mungo's, her familiar in tow. The hospital arranged a Floo directly to the Burrow, allowing her to avoid the paparazzi for the time being. She knew she would inevitably be forced to interact with them, but she would rather it be on her terms, while she was well. And at the moment, neither was feasible.
Mrs. Weasley nearly begged to have Liz come and stay with them until she was healed, insisting that she and Harry could use a bit of extra mothering. The two reluctantly agreed, unwilling to admit that they may actually need the help, and a spare room was soon arranged for her. Harry, as was usual with all of his extended stays at the Burrow, situated himself in Ron's old room, and overall the arrangement was better than either expected.
They received a steady stream of visitors, though Mrs. Weasley only allowed a very few specific ones in to see Liz. One of the most surprising was Minerva McGonagall, who arrived decked in her traditional set of teaching robes despite the unnaturally warm spring weather. She found Liz alone in the Weasleys' backyard, resting against a large tree beside the garden. While she held a book in her hands and Puck nestled snugly in her lap, her attention was really held by the activities of a trio of gnomes not far off. When it became clear that she was lost in thought and unlikely to notice her on her own, McGonagall cleared her throat to gain the young woman's attention.
"Oh! Professor!" Liz jumped slightly, reaching for her wand instinctively. "My reflexes aren't quite up to par after my illness, it seems. Harry will be so disappointed."
Conjuring a stool, the headmistress sat at the witch's side, sparing a glance at the pup sleeping in her lap. "I doubt that very much – besides, you'll return to normal with rest and time." She paused to meet Liz's eyes, studying her features over the top of her spectacles. "How are you feeling?"
"Much better, thank you," Liz replied, setting her book aside. "To what do I owe this visit?"
She considered her answer a long moment before speaking. "Though I am not one obligated to pry into your business, Miss Potter, I was wondering what your next course of action will be once you are well enough to seek one."
Liz groaned softly, her gaze falling back to the garden and its occupants as she petted Puck distractedly. "I'm not sure. I've got decent reasons to both stay and go, but nothing to indicate which I should choose. I'm kind of stuck, Professor."
"Might I offer a suggestion?" At her enthusiastic encouragement, McGonagall continued, "It seems that Hogwarts is in need of a new Potions professor. Stanton's students performed lacklusterly at best, and I fear his fragile sensibilities might not allow him another year at the task. I came to offer you the post."
Liz leaned away from the elderly witch, slightly taken aback. "You…want me to teach at Hogwarts? But…I didn't even go there. Is that even allowed?"
Smiling slightly, McGonagall replied, "You are not the only non-student to hold a teaching position at Hogwarts, Miss Potter. Professor Kroon, our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, attended Beauxbatons when he was a boy. If that is your only objection, I assure you it is but an insubstantial one." When she continued to appear unconvinced, McGonagall prodded, "What is the real reason keeping you from saying yes?"
Cringing, Liz finally spoke. "Alex. He was right. I ought to go back home. I already have a business, and friends, and a life, there. I shouldn't just drop it all just because I found something different here."
"May I ask you a personal question, Miss Potter?" When Liz nodded, she continued, "Whose life, exactly, are you living?"
Liz blinked, not entirely comprehending the question. "Excuse me?"
"Whose life are you living?" McGonagall calmly asked again. "Yours or someone else's?"
"Mine, I suppose – "
"And who, therefore, has the say in what you ought or ought not to do with it?"
"Me."
"Precisely. You are responsible for yourself, and it is only you who may make the choices of what you shall do with what you are given. Taking into consideration those around you, those you care about, is important, certainly, but in the end it is your opinion that matters most." She stood, vanishing the chair. "I do not expect an answer immediately, Miss Potter. I simply hope you will take my words to heart." With that, she began to make her way back to the house.
They were all valid points, ones Liz felt ridiculous for not realizing more fully on her own. Either choice she made was sure to disappoint someone, but did it actually matter as long as she was content? She owed it to herself, for her happiness and well-being, to do what she thought proper with her short existence. "Professor, wait!"
McGonagall paused to turn, raising a single eyebrow.
"Is Puck welcome as well?"
The witch nodded, her eyes crinkling slightly at the edges. Liz gave a single nod in response before replying.
"Yes."
Alex had been disappointed when he learned of her decision, of course, but he understood in the end. Over the course of the two weeks he visited with her, he watched the interactions with her new friends and family, seeing how well she meshed with each and the comfort and ease that had overtaken her. When he learned of her new job, he could not help but joke that with how often she helped him and their classmates at school, it was inevitable that some day she'd find a way to do it full time. She was miserable to see him return home, but felt confident she had made the right decision. As she and Harry bid him a final farewell, Harry turned to her sedately.
"Do you regret it?" he asked, a slight twinge of reluctance in his voice.
Grasping his arm, she pulled him toward the exit. "Not on your life."
The End
For now.
