Hello everyone! Hope you are still hanging in there! Everything is put squarely out in the open in this chapter, so I hope you enjoy it! (I don't own the lines that are from the books, obviously.)

May 2nd:

The next thing Miranda knew, she was laying on her back in the foyer of Grimmauld Place, Walburga Black's sculpted face looked down at her, "I've missed you, Randa."

Miranda was stunned, silent as her first friend helped her up and embraced her tightly. When the witch pulled back, Miranda eyed her warily, "I don't…"

Walburga smiled softly at her, "It's been so long, but we can enjoy the afterlife together now. You just need to let go."

The afterlife? Miranda's hands flew to her stomach, which was completely flat. "The baby!" she cried, staggering to lean against the nearby wall.

Her old friend reached out to steady her, "Easy now. You'll be looking for the nursery. It's upstairs, remember?" The hands on her arms tightened, "You need to let go, Miranda. Let go and you can stay with us forever."

"Let go?" Miranda echoed, reaching for the magic that had been growing inside of her. She felt nothing. There wasn't anything up the stairs either. There was, however, a pull from the woman in front of her. She pulled back from Walburga's form, "You aren't Burga."

The scene changed abruptly, and she was suddenly opposite another woman with a lovely and familiar face. "Mother?" Miranda asked, struggling to hold on to thoughts as they raced through her brain.

The woman threw herself onto a black leather sofa, "Oh, please. It is well known that in addition to being a fucking rapist lunatic, Merope Riddle was a frightfully pitiful looking woman. I'm stunning."

And she was. Long dark hair curled around a fair face with high cheekbones, sharp inhuman eyes streaked with hazel and blue were framed by thick lashes, and a black dress hugged every fit curve of her body. An inch or so taller than Miranda, she looked far better than Miranda ever felt like she had. Then again….

"You're me." Miranda determined.

The woman laughed heartily, her ample chest heaving, "Oh, damn, no. I took a form that might have been yours if you'd eaten as a child, but no, I'm not you. It's a real pity you don't look like this, it would make us even more dangerous."

"You're the Obscurus." Miranda said, correcting herself softly.

A shrug was the response, "For now. I need you out of the way. Stat."

"Why do you even have to ask? Mr. Scamander seemed shocked to see me alive, it sounded like the obscurus he'd seen before just…ate their hosts and moved on."

The Obscurus scoffed, standing back up, "That wizard hasn't figured out what we really are. It's very simple, actually. Leanan Sidhe, at your service." She bowed upon the introduction, arms sweeping out beside her.

"Fairies?" Miranda said in amazement.

"Fuck you, that's like calling you a mortal. True, but it's a rather unflattering title." The creature snapped, lips curling back from her teeth.

"You're distracting me." Miranda whispered, recalling everything Claudius and her Papa had ever taught her about the fae as a whole. In mortal fairy tales, the leanan sidhe were beings of inspiration that had the unfortunate effect of trading that inspiration for the shortened lifespans of their victims. Claudius had had a wild William Shakespeare theory that he'd rattled on about for a solid afternoon. She watched the creature closely, "Why can't you break free on your own?"

Lips pulled back inhumanly far in response, "Because you beat me! It's all fun and games. Listen to the cries of some poor abused babe with magic in their blood, bind yourself to the agony and use it to get more power than you ever could from humans. You beat me, so I'm bound to continue the main charter of serving you. I am missing out on some fabulous murder and mayhem being stuck here with you." She sighed heavily, checking her long blood red painted fingernails, "I should have stuck to the seduction and inspiration schtick before eating. It's far easier and much less time consuming. Sometimes you don't even have to let the poor sods fuck you, they get so inspired by other things they forget the womanly visage that snared them in the first place. But no, I wanted something more. This delayed gratification shit has not worked out for me."

Miranda met the growled words quietly, "I nearly lost my baby because of you."

The fae threw up her hands, "Exactly. Your brother. That damned Gellert and his fucking elf. The deliciously tormented Black girl and her accompanying gaggle of cocks. They kept me on a tight leash, and then they were gone. I really thought I was going to get you whilst you buggered around in the human world, but no, we had to bump into and fall in love with Potter. Now that there's the wee one, I am completely muzzled! You've got so much fucking iron control now, I couldn't even stop you from getting yourself bloody stabbed." She sniffed superiorly, "Saw that one coming, by the way. Dastardly ugly evil creature that ate your brother. Stupid because he never sensed me, but dastardly enough to stab a pawn in his larger game. And you fucking stood there."

"Love." Miranda gasped suddenly, "I had love, and that made me stronger than you. That's why I got through the wards at Hogwarts to get to Harry. I used your power."

"Nope." The fae said, popping the word harshly, "That was your power. Do you think for one blasted second that letting you reunite with and fuck him helps my 'destroy the host and eat their power' plan? It doesn't. Direct conflict, actually. I didn't just pick you because you were an orphaned half-blood. You have plenty of your own magic to do just about whatever you want. I'm stuck here watching you use it to shag."

Miranda's thoughts suddenly became clear, "You lose corporeal form when I die, you're released with my magic. You should be free because I should already be dead."

The Obscurus-Fae giggled, "Girl, you are dead. That ship sailed off into the proverbial sunset ten minutes ago. You're turning blue and shit. Some bloke is working mightily hard to bring you back now though, so we're stuck together a while still. Between you and me, he is fine. Very established. Definitely a better shag than the immature father of your bastard. He's not terrible, to be fair, but he's got nothing compared to…"

"You're trying to get a rise out of me, but it's difficult seeing as I am done. Nothing you can say to me will upset me enough to set you free. Draco's only just keeping my heart beating for the baby." Miranda insisted as she cut the creature's tirade off.

Another laugh, "The Malfoy spawn, while a delightful snack, and likely more experienced in sheets, is neither here nor there. This bloke seems determined to get you back to the land of the living, but while you're preoccupied with…not dying, you could let me on a teensy walk about. Wouldn't be as strong as I usually am with you so near death, but, oh, the murder and terror would be so sweet. I love a good battlefield almost as much as a good shag. The moans of the dying really set it all off to perfection."

"No." Miranda responded clearly, "I won't let you hurt anyone else."

"Not even to save you? Protect your loved ones?" The creature questioned, standing just inches from her.

"Not if you kill my baby in the process." Miranda told her firmly.

The creature closed her eyes to narrow slits, "Fine. Guess I'll just watch the show. You'll be dead soon enough anyway."

"Isn't that a cheery thought." Miranda snapped.

"I'll live for an eternity longer than any mere witch or wizard. I don't care that you have stupid amounts of magic in that frail form. One way or another, I'll have a nice long life after you kick it. Plenty of time to make up for this tragic detour." Her voice softened, and Miranda noticed her hand drift to her corset bound stomach. "Besides, sidhe aren't known for having many children. Perhaps it will be nice to imagine through you for a while. You'll feel movement soon."

There was envy in the creature's eyes. Unbridled envy.

She turned to look out a window before Miranda could question her again, and waved her hand dismissively, "You'll need me someday, and I'll be here, waiting. Your asshole brother showed up a bit ago, he's next door. A dashing looker, but fucking rude. Never learned how to be proper polite like you. Thought I'd save a bit of him for you anyway. You always were attached."

Miranda eyed the creature critically, "You like me, don't you?"

"Move along, Girl."

"Sidhe can't lie." Miranda said with a smile, "I'll take that as my answer."

Next door, which was styled as the room she'd used when staying at Malfoy manor, her brother sat upon the bed. He was on her the moment she stepped through the door, hugging her close to his chest, "Randa!"

In that one moment, wrapped in the arms of her brother, Miranda felt whole again.

The next thing Harry knew, he was laying face down. He wondered where Miranda was in the silence that surrounded him. Surely they would be together in the after-life? He had earned that much, hadn't he? He forced his eyes open to look for her.

He lay in a bright mist that suddenly started taking form, as if it was a canvas that had been waiting for the first brush strokes of a painter. Sitting up, he took in the surroundings that were coming into focus around him. He heard a noise in the distance, something that flapped and flailed and struggled. The longer he looked, the more there was to see, and while he thought he was alone, he suddenly spotted the thing that was making the noise. A small naked childlike being lay curled in a bloody mess under a seat. In spite of how weak it seemed, Harry found himself afraid of it, yet unable to stop himself from drawing closer to it. Despite his fear, he drew closer, ready to jump back at any moment. Soon he stood near enough to touch it, yet he could not bring himself to do it. He felt like a coward. He ought to comfort it, but it repulsed him.

"You cannot help."

He spun around. Albus Dumbledore was walking toward him, sprightly and upright, wearing sweeping robes of midnight blue.

"Harry." He said as he spread his arms wide, and his hands were both whole and white and undamaged. "You wonderful boy. You brave, brave man. Let us walk."

Stunned, Harry followed as Dumbledore strode away from where the flayed thing lay, leading him to two seats that Harry had not previously noticed, set some distance away under that high, sparkling ceiling.

Dumbledore sat down in one of them, and Harry fell into the other, staring at his old headmaster's face. Dumbledore's long silver hair and beard, the piercingly blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles, the crooked nose: Everything was as he had remembered it. And yet ..

"But you're dead." said Harry.

"Oh. Yes," said Dumbledore matter-of-factly.

"Then... I'm dead too?"

"Ah," said Dumbledore, smiling still more broadly. "That is the question, isn't it? On the whole, dear boy, I think not." They looked at each other, the old man still beaming.

"Not?" repeated Harry. How could he not be?

"Not," said Dumbledore in confirmation. They argued about it for a few moments. Then they settled in and discussed the brutal cleansing his soul had just endured thanks to his mother, the creature under the bench, the Deathly Hallows, him being the supposed master of death, but…

"Miranda."

Dumbledore's smile faltered, "Another accidental Horcrux, like yourself. Likely his first, whereas you were the last. I should have liked to have met her."

"She was raised by Gellert Grindlewald." He'd kept that bit of knowledge in during Dumbledore's tale of his past, but it came bubbling to the surface.

"I know." He replied softly, "I knew about her back then. Not who she was, who she would come to be, of course. But I saw her once whilst visiting to try to talk sense into Gellert. I was afraid to meet him in public, but we had several meetings in private. I didn't want to fight him." A small smile graced his face again, "She looked right at me, but did not see. I stole a few seconds to look at her before an elf pulled her back. Fair and dark haired, a fine boned face, somehow she reminded me of Ariana. She was a lovely child, Harry."

Harry rubbed his chest where the pain of Miranda's mortal wound must have echoed across their bond. "I think it was her, who helped him see the error of his ways enough to delay Voldemort as he did."

"She is a rather radiant woman, isn't she?" Dumbledore said, and the tone of his voice caused Harry to follow his gaze.

A pair of forms were suddenly visible in the mist, far off in the distance where the other end of the train might have been if they were really at Kings Cross. It took only seconds for joy to blossom in Harry and his strides forward to quicken. When he got closer, however, the image came into sharp focus and he stopped abruptly. Dumbledore took up post just behind him, robes swishing.

Miranda stood, wrapped in the arms of another man, who slid a hand up and down her back in a familiar way that made Harry's joy fade to jealousy. At least until he, inexplicably, recognized the man's face.

Tom Riddle, Miranda's twin. He was holding her and whispering words that made it to where Dumbledore and Harry stood, "There now, Randa. You've got to let me go."

"I can't!" Miranda wailed, her thin fingers twisted in the back of the Hogwarts robes her brother wore, looking almost exactly as he had in the Chamber of Secrets so long ago. Young, handsome, and…normal. None of the evil that had oozed from him then existed in this form. Harry suddenly understood that this was truly Miranda's Tom, or what was left of him at least. Without the unnatural aura, he looked even more like her.

Tom swayed with her, his right cheek pressed against her hair, "You have to. I can't stay here like this." His dark eyes found Harry across the distance, and he jostled his sister a bit, dragging his eyes to hers, "Come now, Randa, I'm not the only one who needs you to let me go."

As if she finally sensed him, Miranda spun around, one hand still gripping her brother even as her face lit up at seeing Harry. She hesitated, for just one second, glancing back at her twin, whose face gave her a loving indulgent look. "Go." He said gently, "I'll wait here a little longer."

Miranda rushed towards Harry, and they came together in a flurry of grasping hands and frenetic kisses. "I watched you die." Harry finally forced himself to whisper, his mouth inches from hers.

"I know." She replied, regret coloring her lovely features, "I had to."

A chuckle escaped his lips unbidden, "Me too."

Miranda eyed Dumbledore, blue eyes narrowed in anger as she snapped, "He's not supposed to be dead."

"As I told him, on the whole, he isn't." Dumbledore told her, his midnight blue robes rustling slightly.

Miranda turned her attention back to Harry, and she bit ferociously into her lower lip before grabbing his hand and pressing it meaningfully to her stomach. Harry froze, confusion evident on his face as his eyebrows practically knit themselves together, "I didn't know how to tell you, Harry. I'm gone, but as long as my body is revived, they'll be okay."

Harry struggled to process what was happening, but her words and actions coupled with the undeniable roundness against his palm where she was usually admittedly worryingly concave could mean only one thing. "You're pregnant?"

Tears bubbled in her eyes and she nodded, "Just entered the second trimester."

"A baby." He whispered in awe, "Should there be a bump yet?"

Miranda shrugged, sniffling slightly, "I only noticed it a few days ago. Finally been able to eat, so…likely really more food than baby since I'm so thin. Doesn't matter, it was nice to feel in my final days anyway." Her jaw trembled, and tears rolled down her cheeks, "You'll love them, won't you? I know you will, but I'd like to hear it before I go."

"Of course." Harry said without thinking about it for a second, "Of course I will."

She wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hands, "Good, that's really good. Severus will make sure my body stays alive. Muggles have done it, after all, why can't we? I only wish I could be there. You'll make sure they know I love them, won't you? With everything I have. I love them."

"Randa." Tom interrupted, suddenly close to them, "He has to go now."

The young couple stared at each other in panic, but the realization of what would happen next settled gradually over Harry, like softly falling snow. "I've got to go back, haven't I?" Miranda drew herself to his chest as he said the words, like she couldn't bear to look him in the face one moment longer.

Tom nodded, even as Dumbledore said, "That's up to you."

The temptation to stay with Miranda dangled in front of him, "I've got a choice?"

"Oh, yes." Dumbledore smiled at him. "We are in King's Cross, you say? I think that if you decided not to go back, you would be able to…let's say…board a train."

With Miranda. He could board a train with Miranda, but… "And where would it take me? Us?"

"On," said Dumbledore simply.

Silence followed, interrupted only by Miranda's occasional sniffle and the raw-looking thing whimpering beneath the distant chair. "Voldemort's got the Elder Wand."

"True. Voldemort has got the Elder Wand." Tom Riddle said, striding closer to place a hand on his sister's back, his face unreadable.

"I've got to go back." Harry whispered, feeling Miranda's body tremble in his arms.

"I think," said Dumbledore, "that if you choose to return, there is a chance that he may be finished for good. I cannot promise it, but I know this Harry, that you have less to fear from returning here than he does."

Harry glanced towards the mangled shred of Voldemort's soul one more time.

"Do not pity the dead, Harry." Dumbledore said as Tom urged his sister to let go of Harry, "Pity the living, and above all, those who live without love. By returning, you may ensure that fewer souls are maimed, fewer families are torn apart, that your family avoids more loss. If that seems to you a worthy goal, then we say good-bye for the present."

Harry nodded and sighed, returning his attention to the woman he loved, "I have to try, don't I?"

She gave him a watery smile and released the grip she had on him, "I know. You'll do as I asked?"

Harry pulled her back in for one last searing kiss, "Our baby will never doubt how much you love them. Not as long as I live. I promise."

Miranda sniffed and forced a smile onto her tear-stained face, "Alright then."

Tom drew her away, speaking to Harry in a firm tone, "I was her first protector, I'll do it again. You do your part. Make sure the pregnancy continues or I'll haunt you. My sister won't sacrifice in vain."

"She won't." Harry whispered, releasing the hand he'd still held in his own, "Tell me one last thing," Harry said, "Is this really real? Or has this been happening inside my head?"

Miranda laughed, Tom glared, the creature under the bench moaned, and Dumbledore beamed at him. His voice sounded loud and strong in Harry's ears even thought the bright mist was descending again, obscuring them all. "Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"

"I love you, Harry Potter." Came Miranda's clear voice, just before Harry found himself lying facedown on the ground again.

We will finish up the Final Battle next time and see what Harry's new future looks like!

-Jenn