Chapter Fourteen

The best part of unconsciousness, Harry decided, was the quiet. He enjoyed it, even reveled in it. He was alone with his endless, rampaging thoughts, and that was okay. When he was starting to come to, he heard the voices. It started with rumblings from
tones he couldn't recognise, and soon became whispered conversations by worried voices he knew all too well.

"Harry," a voice whispered right by his ear. He even felt their breath on his skin, ruffling his hair. "Please, Harry, you have to wake up. She won't survive losing you like this. Not when she thinks it's her fault."

Harry was made oddly aware of a hand resting on the back of his head. It was a familiar hand, slender fingers and warm tips.

"Please," the voice whispered. "I know you can hear me. You've even got that thoughtful look on your face." Ginny even let out a thoughtful chuckle. "It's different than your normal pained look."

"No, it's a look of constipation," another voice said. George. Bless him.

Harry managed to open one eye, even groaning for good measure. When his second eye fluttered open, his vision was blurry and he could barely make out the face right in front of him. He needed his glasses.

"George!" Ginny exclaimed. "His eyes! I think he's waking up."

"Well, don't give him a headache as well, Gin. The poor boy's been through enough without having you add to his pain."

Ginny scowled at her brother, eyeing him painfully. Turning her attention back to Harry, she noticed that his eyes were focused. She'd never been more grateful to see the striking green in all her life. "Hello, you," Ginny said softly, her hand running
through his hair again. "Welcome back."

Harry tried to move, but Ginny placed a restraining hand on his bare shoulder.

"Don't move, Harry," George said. "Your wound, it's still healing. Hold on, let me get Hermione."

Harry's eyes darted around, as if he was already searching for her. He started to move, forcing himself to turn onto his side. He needed to be able to see Hermione properly when she came in. He groaned in pain, a stabbing bolt shooting to his left side.

George put his hands firmly on Harry's back, holding him down. "Stay still, Harry. For Merlin's sake! You're going to rip your wound wide open if you keep this up."

Harry's eyes lost focus again as the pain moved through his entire body, claiming him once more. He slipped into unconscious before he had the chance to lay eyes on the only face he wanted to see.

"Idiot," George muttered as Ginny returned with Hermione, Ron and Luna.

Ginny stopped at the sight of Harry's now still body. "What happened? He was awake a second ago."

George shrugged. "You know, when he's up again, you can ask him," he said sourly. "I tried to tell him to stay still but one mention of Hermione's name and he all but wanted to fly off the table."

All eyes turned to the witch of topic, who felt a slight burn in her cheeks. What was this?

"I think he passed out from the pain," George added. "Lu, you haven't got any more pain potions, do you? I doubt he'd be able to stay awake for long without one anyway."

Luna just nodded once before she disappeared from the kitchen, grateful for something to do.

Hermione looked rather shaken. "He, uh, he really woke up?" she asked softly, her eyes drifting to George.

The redhead nodded vigorously. "I swear he was awake. Focused and alert. And as stubborn as ever, as you can probably tell."

Hermione moved towards Harry and knelt down at the edge of the table. She stared at his face for a while, determining what was so different about his facial expression. He appeared calmer, more content in a way. It lasted about an hour.

Hermione shifted into a chair and sat much closer at his side than she usually did. She even held onto his hand, trying to will him to come back to her. She was there to witness the change in his facial expression, as if whatever thoughts he was having
were troubling him.

Harry woke up a few hours later. He didn't open his eyes at first. His head shook as if he was fighting some truth, which roused all those around him. Several people were standing around the table and him when his eyes finally flew open and he uttered
one word.

One word was all it took to shatter Hermione. Not just her heart, but her entire being. One word and Hermione released Harry's hand, realising that she actually couldn't be holding onto it. Not the way she was; like it was a hand that belonged
to her. It didn't. Harry didn't belong to her; not the way everyone seemed to go on about it.

Because the word Harry uttered wasn't just a word. It was a name. And it was not Hermione's.

It was Julia's.

Hermione shouldn't have been surprised but her eyes still stung as if even his unconscious mind was rejecting her. Hermione backed away, needing to get away before anyone could see.

Ron was too engrossed in welcoming his friend back from the dead that he didn't see Hermione back right out of the kitchen and disappear out of the cottage entirely. Harry, again, was trying to roll over, but Ron wasn't having any of it.

"Honestly, Harry, I will stun you if you make another move," Ron warned, his tone serious.

Harry stopped moving, silently glaring at Ron. "She was there," Harry said through gritted teeth, riding the wave of pain as he stopped moving.

Ron frowned. "What?"

"Julia. At the meadow. She was there. I saw her. She did this to me. She was going to do this to Hermione. She was there."

Ron's frown only deepened. "Julia Ahern? Your Julia? Your girlfriend, with all the shopping bags and the food and the smiles and the understanding? That Julia... is a witch?"

Harry's eyes flashed with anger, darkening right before Ron's eyes. How could he not have seen it before? No wonder they'd managed to get through the wards at 87 Bollinger Rd without setting off any alarms. Julia had brought them in. It was the only thing
that made sense. "She's part of the Order," he said harshly. "They've probably known where I was for years, sent her to keep an eye on me. I'm so stupid. I should have known it was too good to be true." Harry started to move again, desperate to get
up. The last thing he wanted to be doing was lying there on his stomach, doing nothing. He'd never felt more useless in all his life, and he'd spent the last few days feeling especially useless.

"Stay. Down." Ron pressed his hands down on Harry's back. "What is wrong with you? Are you trying to kill yourself? Don't you remember that you're the one we need to end all this talk of eradication?"

Harry suddenly didn't even care, fighting against the pressure on his back. "Hermione. I have to see Hermione."

The pressure on Harry's back slackened, but did not disappear. Ron scanned the faces in the kitchen, most of them a tad confused as to what exactly the two men were talking about. "Where is Hermione?" Ron asked generally.

It was Ginny who slipped away, muttering something about going to get her. Ginny had to admit that she was a little thrown. Nobody had ever mentioned someone named Julia. Harry had a person; he had someone who wasn't her or Hermione or Cho or... He'd
found a life with a Muggle woman, and he'd left them all behind like they'd meant nothing.

No. He'd done it to protect them. Everything he'd done in his life was to protect the people about whom he cared. It was part of who he was. How could she begrudge him the fact that he'd found someone to end his loneliness? Even if whoever he had found turned
out to be some sort of well-positioned spy for the Order.

Ginny searched the Cottage for Hermione to no results. She was sure that the witch hadn't actually left. She wouldn't. But something was keeping her away for now and Ginny suspected it had quite a bit to do with Harry's sudden utterance of Julia's
name. If only Hermione had stuck around to hear more.

Giving up on the inside, Ginny stepped out of the front door, her eyes raking over the beachfront. They settled on a lone figure standing about a hundred metres further up the beach, completelystill in the whipping wind. Cursing under her breath,
Ginny made her way towards the dark-robed figure, her mind thinking hard about how to approach the topic that was clearly bothering the seasoned witch.

"Hermione?" Ginny eventually called out once she was close enough. "Hermione, he's awake. He's asking for you."

Hermione took her time turning to look at Ginny, her eyes filled with unshed tears. She felt like an idiot. She'd sat at Harry's side non-stop, stupidly forgetting that whatever she felt for him didn't even matter. How could it? He was with someone else.
He was in love with someone else. She was filled with such unexplained hurt that she couldn't even allow herself to be elated with the fact that he was awake.

What was worse was that she really had no right to blame Harry. How could she? Especially after they'd nearly lost him.

"Hermione?" Ginny prompted once more, stepping closer to the witch with her arms folded tightly across her chest. "He wants to see you."

"No," Hermione said sadly. "He wants to see Julia."

Ginny shook her head. "Merlin, the both of you are such idiots. Such, stupid, stubborn idiots!"

Hermione frowned at her friend. "Well, thanks."

"He's asking for you, Hermione!" Ginny said hotly. "He wants to get up off that damn table and come and find you. Is that what you want? Because he'll do it. He'd rather rip his wound open, face losing even more blood than spend
another second without seeing you. Are you really going to do that to him, because you can't get over the fact that the first thing he said was the name of that backstabbing good-for-nothing witch who put him in this position in the first place?"

Hermione's eyes snapped towards Ginny, alert and tear-free. "What?"

Ginny grabbed hold of Hermione's arm and started to pull her back to the Cottage. "Come on!"

Once inside, the two women were made aware of the conflict going on in the kitchen.

"Harry, please, just stop moving! She's coming. Ginny went to get her. Stop! Merlin, just stop! You're going to end up passing out again and then you won't have seen her. Stop!"

When Ginny and Hermione entered the kitchen, Ron was practically sitting on Harry's back, forcefully holding him in place. Any other day, it probably would have been amusing, but the entire situation was just... sad.

Harry's eyes locked on Hermione at the same time hers locked on him, and he immediately stopped struggling, allowing the fight to leave him. "Hermione?" he whispered.

One whispered word was all it took to get her moving. She dropped to her knees right by his head, her fingers immediately caressing his cheek. "Hi."

He managed a smile. "What took you so long?" he asked, his voice scratchy.

She let out a light laugh. "I had things to do," she offered as explanation. "You had me worried."

"I'm sorry about that," he said softly, his eyes never once drifting from her face now that Ron had put his glasses on for him. Really, the entire thing was amazing to watch. The way they looked at each other made everyone else in the room suddenly seem
irrelevant.

Hermione's hand moved from his cheek to his hair, her fingers claiming his raven strands as their own. "You almost died, Potter. Don't do it again."

That made him laugh, which then made him cough. Once he recovered, he sighed. He'd have to tell her about Julia. He'd have to say it out loud and accept that the woman he'd spent years loving was nothing more than a pawn in the plan to keep him in line.
She was probably tasked with finding the Cloak of Invisibilityand, when she didn't deliver, they'd had to resort to other, more unconventional, methods.

"I'm so glad you're back," Hermione finally admitted, sensing whatever inner turmoil was going on in his head.

Harry swallowed. "Luna said I died," he said seriously.

Hermione nodded somberly. "You did."

Harry looked thoughtful. Then, his eyes brightening slightly, he asked a question she should have known he would ask, "Did it work?"


It took Harry begging and pleading for up to thirty minutes for Ron to give in and levitate him into a new position. They moved him to an armchair in the lounge and he curled up on his right side, settling into the cushions like he'd just found an oasis
after days in the desert.

The fact that Harry knew Hermione had proceeded with the ritual to bring back his magic made Hermione feel a bit uncomfortable. She hadn't responded to his question, though she assumed that her reaction had been enough to answer him in the affirmative.
As yet, they hadn't been alone long enough to talk about it further. Only she, Harry and Ron knew about the complete list of steps required to return his power to him. Hermione even wished that stopping his heart was the easiest step. Thankfully,
the incantations she had said and the runes she'd scribed seemed to have worked. A simple diagnostic spell had told her that the restarting of his life had, in fact, rebuilt his magical core, though it remained empty and would remain that way until
she had the chance to further the ritual.

"Do you need anything?" Angelina asked Harry.

He deftly shook his head, his eyes closing for a moment. When they opened again, they settled on Hermione sitting quietly on a couch next to Ginny. The women were holding hands, which actually made Harry smile. Once his smile faded, he turned his attention
to Bill. "How is Fleur?" he asked.

Harry was relieved when the redhead smiled. "She's doing well," he said proudly. "So is the baby. We're keeping a close eye on them both but they're both recovering well."

"That's good," Harry said, the relief washing over him. "How long have I been out?"

"Four days," George answered. "You really took your time waking up, didn't you?"

Harry lifted his head to give George a sour look. "What's happened?"

It was Ron who responded. "Bill and George went to the Burrow," he started to explain.

"Why would you do that?" Harry asked, his eyes widening.

"We had to," Bill said. "We needed to get more potions for you and Fleur. And I had to look my parents in the eye. I had to see it for myself..." His voice caught as it trailed off, the emotion of what he learnt getting to him. "Things were fine until
Percy showed up and revealed the terrible, dark truth. I don't even know who those people are, Harry. If that's supposed to my family then I'd much rather have none."

Nobody said anything for quite some time. Harry kept his eyes closed as he rode a wave of pain, though he couldn't tell if it was emotional or physical.

"What else did you learn?" Harry eventually asked.

"Dad has a contact in the Muggle world," Ron explained. "Reinhardt or something. I remember him mentioning the name a few times. If we can track him down, we can probably get more answers."

"And then what?" Dean asked.

All heads turned towards him.

He continued. "The Muggles want to take out the wizards, and the wizards will do everything they possibly can to stop them, which pretty much means taking the Muggles out, right? It's going to be another war. How are we supposed to stop any of that from
happening?"

"We have Harry," Hermione said, speaking for the first time since the group settled down in the lounge. "According to the prophecy, he's the one with the power to control whatever happens in what is to come. So long as we're aligned with him, there will
be a way to end this peacefully."

"I think we're a little past peacefully here, Hermione," Ginny pointed out.

Harry coughed, not used to getting so much air into his lungs. "What I do know is that The Zuri has something to do with whatever is going on. I saw something about it on Kingsley's desk. Scared him half to death when I brought it up."

"The Zuri?" Hannah asked thoughtfully. "Is that a place?"

Harry blinked. "I don't know. It could be, or it's some kind of company. It's a lead. So is Reinhardt. I don't think we can afford to ignore anything right now. These are all things that could lead to more answers." Or more questions.

Heads nodded but nobody said anything for another while.

Harry was the one to break the silence he had pulling them into. "I want to apologise," he said softly. "I never wanted any of this to happen. We were just supposed to go there and talk, and I let things get out of hand. For that, I'm sorry." He looked
at Bill when he said the last part. "I'd understand if you wanted to leave right about now. I could never ask you to enter another war."

The silence lasted all but a second before Neville - of all people - spoke up. "Don't be ridiculous, Harry. We're all still here because we want to be. If we're the only ones who can stop a war, then we're going to do it."

Harry just nodded. It was something he'd needed to say and, now that he had, they could all move forward.

"We'll get started on it in the morning," Ron said. "I think we're all just relieved that you're awake, Harry. At least now we can all get some rest. Something tells me that whatever is to come is going to take a lot more out of us."

That was the last thing anyone said until the first person rose, bid the group goodnight and headed to bed. Slowly, the room emptied until it was just the Golden Trio left, as if some silent understanding passed over all those involved.

"So," Harry said, his eyes asking questions of Hermione. "I think you owe me an answer."