A/N: This one took way longer to edit than I thought, and I'm still not satisfied. I realized I'd never post it if I waited until I'm happy, though, so here it is. The next chapter shouldn't take as long, but it'll probably be a week. Thanks for all the interaction with the story!
Also, I'm using Sirius as a Grim animagus, just because I like it. I understand it may not be canon-compliant, but neither are the last 39 chapters, so if that's an issue for you, why are you still here?
Chapter 40
July 1,1996
"Did he write back yet?"
"Not today," Daphne answered, feeling the familiar pain that came along with the constant reminders of her boyfriend.
"He'll get through this," Neville offered supportively. "He's stronger than all of us put together."
"I know he is, but he needs help right now and I don't know how to give it."
"You can't help until he lets you."
"How's Astoria?" she countered, hoping her friend would accept the change of subject.
"Finally letting me help. She'll be okay."
Daphne sighed in relief, glad her sister seemed to be turning a corner. Since she'd been rescued a few days ago, the girl had collapsed completely in on herself. For the first day she'd only spoken to their mum, and only monosyllabically, completely ignoring anyone else who approached her. Daphne tried to reach out every few hours, but the lack of response from the younger girl was heartbreaking.
Neville was the second to get a 'yes' or 'no' in response to questions, and Daphne could see how much the simple word meant to him. She'd been given her own one word response not long after, but Astoria obviously had a lot to work through.
Her Mum had fared better, though she knew it was likely maternal instinct forcing her to operate somewhat normally. She spent every minute of the day next to her youngest daughter, though she didn't push the girl, merely offering a comforting presence. Her Dad spent most of the last few days with Daphne, the pair commiserating over how helpless they felt.
"And how are you, Nev? Dad told me it got a bit ugly."
"I'm… okay," he offered hesitantly. "It's different than I thought it'd be… It's somehow much easier and more difficult to kill than it seems."
"I know what you mean," Daphne countered, remembering her own brief fight on the platform. "I feel fine all day, then the memory seems to jump out at me from around a corner."
"Have you spoken to Healer Wilson? I've met with him twice, and it's helped."
"I saw him yesterday, but I was distracted the whole time."
"Give it time," Neville replied confidently.
The pair looked up as the den's door opened, both standing as Albus strode into the room determinedly.
"Daphne, Neville," the man greeted. "No word from our wayward leader, I presume?"
"None," Neville answered immediately. "How's Remus?"
"The same. Now that the remaining casualties are stabilized, the healers will have a bit more time to brainstorm. Severus is also looking for possible solutions, but optimism eludes me still."
"And Sirius?" Daphne asked, her stomach sinking at the thought of the pain the man was going through.
"He's barely eaten or slept, and refuses to leave Remus' room. He's actually why I've stopped by, as he mentioned something that I hadn't thought of."
Daphne motioned the man into a chair, watching as he settled and grabbed a nearby pastry. The Headmaster seemed almost embarrassed to continue, and glanced up at her with an apologetic expression.
"With everything going on, I neglected an obvious way to help Harry," he began remorsefully. "Sirius mentioned phoenix tears as a possible solution for Remus, and I could've kicked myself for my lack of thought. Fawkes can find him in a second, but I hear he's accepted your letters?"
"He has, but no response," she answered, excited by the chance to check on him further. "When can Fawkes take me? Dobby refuses no matter how much I beg."
"You prove your love for him by asking that question, but from what I've seen from your father's memory, I'm not sure it would be safe for you."
"What are you talking about?" Neville asked indignantly. "Harry would rather die than hurt Daphne."
"If I'm not wrong in my guess, Harry's magic began maturing during the chaos of that day," Albus explained calmly. "Early maturation is common in powerful witches and wizards, but early maturation because of trauma can lead to… complications."
"What does that mean?" Daphne asked, her stomach clenching painfully.
"It varies from case to case. I've heard stories ranging from unstable and uncontrollable magic, to complete shifts in psyche. When I was still a professor, we had a student that accidentally killed his family with his unstable magic, and ended his own life shortly after in misery."
"And you've left Harry alone for days?"
"Like I said," Albus countered gently, his hands raised. "Using Fawkes didn't occur to me with everything else going on, and I'm sorry to say I don't possess the young man's ability to apparate to those I love. Dobby's giving me daily updates, and from what he can tell, Harry's doing okay given… everything."
"Then maybe we shouldn't pressure him," Neville interjected calmly. "He clearly doesn't want company, and I know he'll figure it out soon."
"Padfoot," Daphne demanded confidently, knowing in her heart it was the best option. "If he's a grim, he's more magic resistant. Harry needs him, and it sounds like Sirius needs an escape too. Bring him Padfoot at night, and have Fawkes take him away each morning."
Albus gawked slightly at her in response, clearly surprised by the suggestion. His mouth shut with a click after a moment, though his eyes twinkled happily.
"A much better idea than mine, and my old bones appreciate their continued safety."
—
July 3, 1996
Harry stared into the huge campfire, feeling pleasantly adrift in the flickering flames. He'd lost track of how many days he'd spent in the woods, but knew it was long enough for his team to be worried sick.
His emotions began returning the day prior, with disgust being the first to come crashing down. He knew those he killed posed a danger to society, but the sheer number of lives he ended was insurmountable in his mind. How many of them were parents or partners? How many had people expecting their return, and were those people aware of their loved ones' choices? Their deaths?
The hypotheticals ran rampant in his mind on a constant loop, the only brief respite being the previous night's dinner with a surprising guest. Grawp must've seen his fire, and the friendly giant was incredibly excited to share his meal for the evening. The pair didn't speak but a few words, but the silent companionship helped still Harry's whirling thoughts for a few minutes.
He'd hoped the giant would join him again, and even set out a large roasted goat just in case, but as the sun dipped behind the mountains, he realized he was alone for the evening. Dobby was great company in the few moments he was here, but Harry was terrified of hurting the elf and sent him away after the brief interviews into his well being. He told his friend to update Albus on his health, but to refuse to share his location for fear of hurting someone he loved. Dobby had passed that order on to Winky and Pocky, and his isolation was secured for better or worse.
His magic was all over the place the last few days, and the constant presence of the Hallows burned tangibly all around him. The Cloak begged to be worn, the Wand to be used, and the Stone to be turned. He wasn't sure what the last meant, as he'd not been brave enough to try, but the constant pressure was overwhelming. The first fire he built nearly set the entire woodland ablaze, and the climate charm he cast on his tent melted the metal supports. He needed to regain his control, and it needed to be soon.
Harry finished his delivered meal of meat stew and fresh bread, and sipped the last of his tea before tidying up. The new tent Dobby delivered beckoned him, though the few moments of peace he'd felt recently were while watching the sunset, and he was loath to miss it despite his exhaustion. According to Dobby, he'd been running a fever for days, and the illness was sapping his strength in a way he'd never expected.
Once the last of the sun's light left the sky, he stood with a groan and entered his new home. He opened his sleeping bag, not bothering to undress, and rolled towards the small table Dobby had brought from the Manor.
The table held the only anchors to his sanity, the picture of Daphne she'd gifted him for Christmas, and the armband she'd made him. He hadn't dared touch it, but just looking at the photo and garment helped settle his mind enough to rest. He stared for what felt like hours, before finally succumbing to a restless sleep.
He jerked awake not long after, a familiar magic rousing him immediately. Padfoot approached once Fawkes released him, his pitiful whines mirroring what Harry was feeling himself. He patted the side of his large cot in welcome and the pup hopped up, circling slowly before settling in.
Harry wrapped an arm around the miserable dog, tears falling from his eyes as his heart broke for what his godfather was going through. Padfoot licked the tears in support, before laying his head on Harry's shoulder. The pair was asleep in minutes, restfully for the first time in days.
—
July 6, 1996
Charlie knocked on the door twice, as was his routine, before stepping off the porch and back into the road. His daily walks with Narcissa had continued rain or shine, though on the especially wet days they'd apparated to the climate wards of the Manor.
The brief time spent with the woman had become a welcome addition to his day, as it was a chance to distance himself from his normal responsibilities and enjoy conversation with a thoroughly enjoyable person. The realization shocked him, as Narcissa's reputation belied the reality, but he knew he got a side of her she didn't show to many.
He smiled as the woman in question exited, her own lips twitching upward slightly in response.
"Every day I wonder if this is the one you don't show," she said glibly. "And every day you're here… like some infestation I can't shake."
"The world's population couldn't support an infestation of Charlie Weasleys," he countered with a grin. "Cities would crumble under the weight of all the pregnancies."
"Now that's a thought that'll stick with me..."
Charlie stepped back as Narcissa approached, the pair falling into a familiar companionable silence. The stares they'd received the first few times they'd walked were now inexistent, and Charlie had only been forced to have words with a small handful of villagers. He followed her lead as she headed north, casting a shade charm over them both as they walked.
He was rewarded with a grateful smile, something he saw more and more often as their friendship grew. It was a startling expression, capable of stopping a horde of dragons in their path, and it took everything in him to retain his wits every time. He'd promised himself he'd be a perfect gentleman, as Narcissa had recently dealt with incredible emotional upheaval, but her smile tested his resolve every time.
The fact that she used to be a Malfoy was something he hadn't thought about for a while, the woman's true character easily overcoming that hurdle in his mind.
"Are you going to speak?" she asked teasingly, breaking him from his thoughts. "Or am I to be subjected to your silent stares this afternoon."
"I could sell my attention in Diagon Alley…"
"You keep telling yourself that, Charlie, and it may eventually come true."
"Where to?" he asked, feeling no guilt at being caught out.
"I hear Hagrid's griffins arrived and I'd like to find them."
"That's a hell of a hike. It'll take a few hours just to get to their new territory."
"Are you needed elsewhere?"
"No," Charlie quickly assured her. "I'm free for the day, just wanted to make sure you knew."
"These boots are made for walking…"
He grinned at her reference, no longer surprised by the woman's knowledge of muggle culture. He'd learned she often escaped her home as a teen, exploring muggle London on her own, and the woman told the stories fondly. Music was what had captured her heart at the time, and she'd even ordered a record player to her new home.
"Then that's just what they'll do."
The pair made the venture easily, as Hagrid had carved out wide and manageable trails throughout the woodland that separated the Village and his woods. They passed the time lightly, trading meaningless stories and jabs, and the long hike fell away behind them unnoticed.
"We're here," he offered, feeling the difference in the wards immediately. "It'll be tough to find them, though. I think there's only seven, and they have acres of land to roam."
"Ye of little faith," Narcissa countered as she opened the satchel she carried, producing a large fish. "I've come prepared."
"I didn't know you were a griffin-ologist."
"My Aunt Dorea and Uncle Charlus had them when I was little," she offered with a grin, waving the fish through the air. "I was obsessed with them, and begged my parents to let me visit every chance I could."
"It must be weird for you to be back here…"
"It was at first, but what you've all accomplished makes this place feel completely different."
"Yeah, Harry's something else."
"Harry didn't do it," she countered softly. "He might've been the ringleader, but it's the clowns around him that have built this place into what it is. Especially you..."
"I haven't done much," he argued, fighting a blush at the backhanded compliment. "I just go where he points, and try to hang on for the ride."
"I'm all for modesty, but there's a point where it comes off as a lack of intelligence. You've built our town, Charlie. It was Harry's idea, Grigg's construction, and Macmillan's the mayor, but everyone knows who we have to thank for our new home."
"I see it differently, but I'll happily accept your undying gratitude. Though you're gonna smell like a dead fish for a bit, I think."
"Oh hush. Here they come."
Charlie's eyes widened as they found the animals she pointed out, amazed at how quickly the woman drew them in. He watched as Narcissa dropped the large fish, pulling a few smaller from her bag as the animals approached warily. He could pick out the patriarch easily, the griffin's massive frame dwarfing those around him, his eyes bright with intelligence and unease.
The griffin bugled slightly as the smallest among them approached, a yearling whose mother followed close. The young animal ignored the warning, and Narcissa tossed the smallest fish at its feet as a reward for its bravery. The young griffin tore into it immediately, the action bursting the tension that filled the small clearing.
Charlie watched as Narcissa produced a fish for each of the herd, saving the largest for last as the patriarch finally neared. She held the food aloft, however, refusing to toss it towards the animal as she had the others, the griffin immediately recognizing the difference in treatment. He let out a sharp caw of warning as he neared, though the woman remained still, the fish held high behind her.
Charlie shook his head in wonder as he watched the huge animal get close enough to sniff her hand, and smiled as his gentle attention was rewarded with his meal. As the griffin tore into the fish, his eyes found Narcissa's, her happiness reflected brightly in her blue eyes. She motioned him forward excitedly, and he tread carefully around the snacking animals.
She extended a hand as he neared, lost in her enjoyment, and he took it without thought.
"This guy's bigger than I imagined," she whispered in wonder. "He's huge."
The griffin raised his head at the comment, and Narcissa extended her other hand for him to sniff. The animal did so gently, making small sounds of contentment as he took in her smell. Charlie raised his own hand at a pointed look from his companion, the griffin sniffing it a bit more aggressively, though he too quickly passed the test.
"You're gorgeous," Narcissa whispered soothingly as the griffin approached close enough to pet. "And such a good leader... Your family looks happy and healthy."
The animal preened under the woman's attention, though Charlie realized she was petting the griffin one-handedly, her other still in his left. He stepped forward, not releasing her hand, and gently patted his opposite flank.
"A strong leader is needed in times like these," Narcissa continued to the beast, whose eyes were closing slightly in contentment. "And from what I've heard about your life before now, you've seen some of the worst the world has to offer. I'm so glad you're finally safe."
Charlie's heart clenched painfully as he watched a tear trickle down her face, and squeezed her hand lightly in support.
"They were part of a traveling circus," she whispered in explanation, emotion filling her voice. "Poked and prodded in cages, never given a chance to spread their wings… Merely a trophy for their owners to show off to those that could afford it."
"They didn't deserve that," he offered sympathetically. "Nobody deserves that."
"Tabula Rasa," she said to the griffin, his words going unheeded. "That's your new name, Rasa for short. A clean slate, Rasa. What d'you think?"
Rasa chirped slightly in response, nuzzling her hand gently. Charlie was amazed by how quickly the pair had bonded, but knew this was a cathartic moment for Narcissa. He followed her lead as she finally stepped backwards, leaving the patriarch to his meal.
He smiled as she released his hand in surprise, seemingly unaware of the contact until that moment. Her eyes were still wet with unshed tears, though she wiped her face frustratedly, her emotionless mask soon returned.
"Sorry, Charlie," she said after a moment, turning to watch the griffins enjoy their fish. "I lost myself for a moment there."
"Never apologize for that," he countered gently. "I'm unbelievably honored I got to be a part of the moment, and I wish I knew what to say…"
"Nothing needed."
"Doesn't stop me from wishing. You deserved so much better, Narcissa. You deserved the world. You're such an incred…"
He stopped as she raised a hand, though the small smile on her face assured him he hadn't overstepped. He grinned back at her in response, watching as she gathered her things, a blush growing on her cheeks.
She moved forward to let the other griffin's take in her smell, spending a bit of extra time with the youngest, before finally moving back in his direction. He noticed she had trouble meeting his eyes, his heart beating loudly at the realization, though she quickly shook herself frustratedly.
"I think I'll take my portkey home, if that's okay," she said confidently, her earlier demureness a thing of the past.
"Of course," he answered, matching her tone. "This was… something. We should come back to visit soon."
"Tomorrow's Sunday..."
"It's a date."
Narcissa's eyes widened at the comment, and he mentally kicked himself for the lack of thought behind his words. He opened his mouth to apologize, but was interrupted as she stepped forward confidently.
His cheek flamed hot where her lips met it for the barest of moments, and his face quickly matched his hair in color. Hers was attempting to do the same, though her eyes shone happily.
"Tomorrow, then," she said with an honest smile, before disappearing with a pop.
"Tomorrow…" he whispered, his brain short circuiting confusedly.
He sat heavily, crossing his legs, as he tried to wrap his head around the last few minutes. Of all the surprises of the last year, somehow this trumped everything. The bizarreness grew exponentially as the youngest griffin crawled into his lap, quickly falling asleep after its meal.
—
July 7, 1996
Harry breathed deeply, trying and failing to control the overwhelming frustration he felt. The tea he'd tried to reheat lay scattered across his clearing, the flames from his spell finally sputtering out of existence. He kicked himself again for his lack of thought, and knew he'd ruined his shoes by stomping out the biggest fires as he was terrified to quench them with a spell.
It felt like his magic had turned against him. That it had shifted into something required for the battlefield, but entirely inappropriate for everyday life. He was scared to cast so much as a cleansing charm, knowing his skin would likely be considered 'dirt' by the spell. It was a helpless feeling knowing his friends sat nearby worried about him, but certain his presence would cause pain, and the letters Dobby delivered from Daphne only added to his unease.
She needed him. She'd gone through a traumatic experience just as he had, and she deserved to have a boyfriend that could be there for her. The thought turned his insides to liquid, and he wondered if he'd ever be able to be that person for her. The possibility of that answer being no terrified him, though he quickly wiped his mind clear of the thought as the nearby trees swayed dangerously in response to his unhappiness.
"HARRY."
He was pleasantly surprised that the moving trees had another culprit, Grawp's deep, rumbling voice a welcome distraction for the teen.
"Hey, Grawp. I have a goat for you."
"Goat tasty," the giant countered with a happy smile, settling to the ground nearby.
Harry averted his eyes as his friend tore into his meal, though the sounds would be nightmare fodder for weeks to come. Grawp was done within moments, letting loose a belch that unnested birds acres away.
"Harry sad," the giant noted softly.
"I am," he admitted. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to go back, Grawp... I'm dangerous to people who aren't as strong as the two of us."
"Grawp learn. Harry learn too!"
"I hope so," he answered with a smile, the giant's childlike confidence somewhat uplifting. "How was your day?"
"Grawp saw four owls. And Albus."
"That's great, bud. You didn't tell him where I was, did you?"
"No!" the giant denied adamantly. "Secret safe with Grawp."
"Thanks, mate."
"Hedwig!"
Harry's eyes followed the giant's excited gaze, the bird coming into view seconds after his companion's better vision managed to spot her. He smiled as she neared, barking happily, and extended an arm for her to land on.
"Hi, girl," he whispered, stroking her feathers softly. "Have a good fly?"
Hedwig replied by extending a leg, and Harry quickly removed the attached letter. He saw his name written on the front in familiar script, and took a deep breath to settle his racing heart. Every letter he received felt like it would be the last, this one proving no different.
"You went to see Daph, huh?"
Hedwig hooted indignantly in response, and he made a mental note to apologize before tearing into the letter.
Harry,
I had my second session with Healer Wilson today, and I feel like a wrung out dishrag. He asked me to review the memory with him, and talk about what other options I had, and there were none. If I hadn't killed him, I'd have been tied up right next to Mum and Astoria, but that realization doesn't really make it any easier.
Astoria's doing better. She's talking finally, though she clams up if someone outside the family or Neville enters the room. Tracey's figuring it out, too. I can't imagine what she's going through, the betrayal followed by immediate grief has to be overwhelming… Her dad was such a nice man, and my heart is completely torn on how to remember him.
Neville and I have been training, and we have some tricks up our sleeves next time we go two on one, so you better be practicing…
I miss you, Harry. I trust Albus' explanation of why you left, but your silence hasn't been fun. If I had to guess, I'd say you're a mess right now. That you think you're somehow broken, and that you'll never be fixed, and you don't want to give me false hope. I can respect that thought process, but I promise you, you aren't permanently broken.
I've never seen you meet an obstacle you couldn't climb, and this is just another in that long line. You'll figure this out, love, and when you do you'll be better for it. Our life here the last few days has been a weird holding pattern, as everyone is afraid to act without you, though Albus has been flitting from group to group covering for you competently.
I don't wanna pressure you into returning before you're ready, and only you can know when that is. I do, however, wanna pressure you into writing to your girlfriend, because despite the pain you're feeling, I think I can help.
I love you, Harry. More than I ever thought possible, and my heart has a Potter-shaped hole in it that I'd very much like to fill.
Yours,
Daphne
Harry's heart warmed at her words, though it was slightly unbelievable that she still loved him. The warmth was followed by immediate guilt over his lack of response, and he vowed to write tonight.
"Hedwig pretty," Grawp said softly, interrupting his thoughts, and Harry saw his owl sitting on the giant's outstretched finger.
"She is, isn't she? She likes you."
"Grawp like Hedwig."
"I'm glad," he countered with a smile, tucking the letter into his backpack.
As he made room for the parchment his hand grazed the Ring, the touch sending a shock through his body. Harry had handled the object long enough to remove the Dark Lord's finger, though the mountain he was camped on suffered from his reaction. It's like the small object was throwing a tantrum anytime he got close, and his magic reacted in spades.
The smoldering fire in front of him roared to life in response, and Hedwig took flight as Grawp flinched backwards.
"Sorry!" Harry yelped as he attempted to draw his magic in. "Didn't mean to do that."
"Harry will get better," the giant offered understandingly after a moment, the longest sentence he'd said to date. "Grawp sleepy."
"Goodnight, buddy."
—
Fawkes and Padfoot appeared right on time, though Harry sat in the small chair in his tent as opposed to lying in his sleeping bag. His heart warmed as the bird trilled happily at the sight, though the second flash of flame signified his exit. Padfoot approached somewhat warily, obviously confused by the shift in their new routine, sitting quietly at Harry's feet.
"Pads," Harry began anxiously. "I think I need to use the Stone."
The dangerous looking dog barked in response, but Harry raised his hands to stop him from transforming.
"No! Stay as you are, please. My magic is still everywhere, and I don't trust myself around people. I'm gonna head down the hill, but I'll be back soon."
Padfoot nodded in response before jumping up on the cot and circling a few times. He eventually found the correct spot, and plopped down exhaustedly, content to nap until his godson returned.
Harry smiled at the sight, though his heart went out for the man in dog form. He wasn't sure why he needed to use the Stone, but it just felt like his magic was pointing him in that direction, and it hadn't led him wrong until recently. He scratched Padfoot's head as the dog fell asleep, leaving the tent when his breathing settled.
The moon was thankfully bright, lighting his way as he moved away from his camp, and Harry was glad he didn't need to cast a spell. He headed towards a nearby clearing, knowing Sirius would be safe if things went wrong, though the silence of the woods was slightly eerie. As he entered the clearing he dropped his backpack, taking the chance to settle himself as best he could before opening it.
After a long moment he unzipped the bag, sorting through the various letters and equipment the magically expanded compartment held. The ring seemed to understand his intent, as it jumped to his hand excitedly. The burst of magic he felt at the contact nearly broke his determination, as the magic felt foreign enough to give him pause.
His fingers eventually grasped the small piece, however, and nothing around him exploded, which Harry took as a good sign. He withdrew the ring carefully, holding it as lightly as he could. The metal shone unnaturally brightly in the moonlight, and his hand burned slightly where he held it.
The Wand at his forearm itched in response to the magic, but he knew better than to draw that dangerous artifact right now. Every time he'd touched it in the last few days his world had grown worse, and the realization weighed heavily.
The ring, however, felt warm to the touch, the air around him thick with anticipation. It craved to be worn... to be spun... and it was time to give into those cravings.
As Harry held the ring at eye level, an unseen current of wind swept through the trees. The Stone sat atop the adornment flashed brightly, lifting silently from its bedding, and he let the metal casing fall to the ground with a soft thud. The Stone remained aloft, floating supernaturally, and he took a deep breath to steel himself.
With one last mental shake of his head, Harry grasped the Stone, though it still itched to be turned. He did so, once, twice, and a third time, wishing for an answer, though the Stone went cold after the third turn. He closed his eyes in frustration, devastated that this wasn't the answer he sought.
"Open your eyes," an unfamiliar voice intoned powerfully, shaking Harry from his thoughts.
He jumped up in shock, confused as to why his senses didn't register the presence, though the man stood in front of him appeared to be something less, or more, than a threat.
"Who are you?"
"The fact that you don't know tells me it's been years since one of mine used the Hallows with purpose," the specter answered cryptically. "Why don't you tell me who you are, and we can go from there."
"I'm Harry," he offered softly. "Just a boy who has completely lost his grip on his world, and I thought this would help."
"You're so sure it will not?"
"Well your confusion doesn't exactly emit hope."
"You're one of mine," the ghostly figure chuckled confidently. "Only we would be so flippant in a moment such as this. Tell me, do you have the Wand?"
"And the Cloak," Harry confirmed. "I'm assuming you're a Peverell?"
"Ignotus. I'm assuming you're impatient?"
"Just a bit tired of old men and their games."
"Remember you said that in a hundred years..."
"It's annoying to the rest of us."
"As I've been dead for an unspoken amount of time, I find it difficult to care," Ignotus offered haughtily. "You have all three?"
"I've already said yes, will it help me control my magic?"
"Why does it need to be controlled?"
"Will you answer all of my questions with another?"
"Shouldn't I?"
Harry turned his back in frustration, his magic building powerfully, and tried to settle his racing heart. He knew the Stone could bring back the dead, though he expected a dead person to be less infuriating. He took a final deep breath, steeling his nerves, and turned back to the specter.
"My magic…" he began calmly. "Recently matured in a very dangerous moment, and I haven't been able to control it since. I've been causing destruction everywhere I turn, and I'm terrified to even visit my loved ones. The Hallows have been calling to me, and I'd hoped I'd find the answer within them."
"And you believe you haven't."
"I haven't been given proof otherwise," he spat, his frustration returning.
"Harry," Ignotus said with a smile. "Do you know why I outlived my brothers?"
"Because you were smart enough to hide from Death."
"Nobody hides from Death," the man countered condescendingly. "I outlived them because I was cautious… cowardly, even. My brothers were great fighters, great soldiers, and they took those skills to the world happily. They united clans, defeated evil. They won great renown and spoils. Meanwhile, I sat in my home and learned about the magic we'd created. Caution can extend your life if you let it.
"The Hallows were inevitable, I think. A necessity of magic, for some reason, and we three brought them into existence. But, they weren't designed to be apart. They, like Excalibur or the Sword of Damocles, were designed to be used by one person. A Holy Trinity, if you'd like, though more… sentient… than that of the Christian faith."
"How did you learn this if you only had the Cloak?"
"Does a lack of elephants make it impossible to learn of them?"
"It makes it hard to gauge their size."
"Fair point," the older wizard admitted with a grin. "The Cloak gave me insight into the others. I was able to study my Hallow, to better understand the Stone and Wand. But by the time I knew what I had, the others, and my brothers, were lost to me."
"I'm sorry. That must have been difficult."
"We've been reunited for years, Harry, no need for sorrow. Tell me, has any person gathered all three before now?"
"No. The Cloak has been in our family since you passed, and I'm the first to collect the others."
"A victim of prophecy, then…" the old wizard mused, scratching his chin in thought. "Tell me, do you face turbulent times?"
"War."
"Then you'll need them, my boy. Do you have them now?"
"I do," he admitted, wary of the man's sudden excitement.
"Get them," Ignotus demanded. "The Cloak first. Put it on, I shall be able to see you just fine."
Harry did so, wrapping the familiar Cloak around his body. The magic of the garment felt more tangible than it had before, like it knew its brothers were close, and he shivered slightly at the feeling as his magic surged powerfully.
"So far so good," he whispered to himself, eliciting a grin from his bizarre companion.
"Now the Wand," Ignotus urged.
"This is where things go wrong," he countered with a grimace.
"And what? You're worried you'll kill me?"
He chuckled at the realization, though the weirdness of the scenario remained. The fact that he was speaking to some long dead ancestor about magical artifacts in the middle of his expansive property was too bizarre to be believed, but so was the rest of his life up to this point. He flexed his wrist reluctantly, though the Wand was less so. It leapt to his hand, though the familiar itch to be used was muted.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief, glad that his body remained intact. He held the wand aloft cautiously, and stood to look at his companion.
"Not so bad, huh?"
"Not so far," he answered warily. "What now?"
"Now we speak of your magic. How much magical theory have you studied?"
"Very little."
"Have things changed so much in my time away?" Ignotus asked in surprise.
"I can't answer that, but my classes didn't rely on it besides learning the theory behind specific spells. I'm assuming you're not talking about that kind of theory?"
"You are correct. I mean the theory behind magic as a whole. Where it comes from and how, how to control it and use it efficiently…"
"Then consider me ignorant, sir," Harry offered reluctantly. "My friend Hermione may have studied it, but I've tended to take it for granted."
"A common mistake from an uncommon young man," Ignotus mused. "Magic is all around us, Harry, though magic folk harness it in different ways. It isn't an exact science, but in my experience, humans fall into two broad categories. Those that approach magic intellectually, and those that are fueled by emotions. If I had to guess, I'd say you're the latter."
"Absolutely. I'd remove the brain from my head if I could."
"It isn't quite that black and white," he chuckled. "It isn't a difference of physical heart versus brain, but the circumstances of your life that lead you to view the world as you do. An intellectual person could use the Hallows easily, if they accepted them, but an emotional person will be more affected…"
"In what ways?"
"They'll become a part of you. They will fuel you in ways you can't imagine, but you will have to be open with your emotions to allow them to do so. Tell me, in the turbulent moment when your magic matured, did you shut down or break down."
"I shut down."
"I bet the Wand didn't like that…"
"It didn't," Harry agreed, wiping his brow confusedly. "It kept forcing itself into my thoughts, like it was begging to be used."
"Because the Hallows were trying to help. The Wand can only protect its master if that person allows it, and shutting down severs the connection. You'll need to work on that in order to truly utilize the tools at your disposal."
"I've been working on it."
"Work harder," Ignotus countered, returning his frustrated look calmly. "Do you have loved ones?"
"I do."
"You need to tell them, as often as possible. Their love will help stabilize your emotions."
"I… I've never said it before…"
"How old are you?"
"Almost sixteen."
"Nearly a man, and you've never spoken your love?"
"My life's been complicated," Harry countered indignantly, not liking the specter's tone.
Ignotus stepped forward at his words, his eyes boring into his descendant's curiously. Harry put up a mental shield on instinct, but it was brushed aside as if it were made of paper. The intrusion was gentle, and over in a second, though his companion's countenance shifted completely by what he found.
"Harry," Ignotus hissed furiously, breathing deeply to regain control of himself. "If I were made of more than memory, I'd stand at your side while you kill your enemies. Where are your aunt and uncle?"
"At home, I'd guess."
"Kill them. I'll find them in the afterlife, and make them pay for their actions."
"I appreciate it," Harry chuckled, a surprising realization falling over him. "I assumed you were one of the intellectual group…"
"Who said that?" he countered indignantly. "My brothers were, though I can see how our story makes it hard to guess. They made great plans, had great ideas, but all I wanted was my family's happiness. I chose my heart any time the choice was offered, and given another chance, I'd make the same decision."
"I'm glad to hear it, but I'm not sure how I'll do the same. I have an entire Nation leaning on me, and I can't allow myself to be hampered by fear."
"Fear is a fact of life, Harry. If you weren't afraid, I would be. The threat of losing your Daphne, or any of the others you love so deeply, needs to drive you. You have to use that emotion, and the Hallows will help you do so. Quit being so stubborn, my boy, and grasp the life that's circling around you impatiently."
"No fucking clue what that means…"
"I'm not surprised. Quit denying the love you feel, and you'll figure it out eventually. Now let me go."
"Wait," Harry countered immediately. "I loved that conversation. It was great… utterly lovely, and I love you as my ancestor… But what the hell do I do now?"
"Now you return to your life," Ignotus answered, a smile in his eyes at the impertinence in the question. "Your magic wasn't broken or out of control, it was reacting badly to your refusal to unite the Hallows."
"But it matured during a battle! It's been uncontrollable for days!"
"I imagine so," Ignotus offered frustratingly calmly. "Cast away, my boy. Test yourself. It's only us here to burn, though I doubt that outcome."
Harry raised the wand in disbelief, not ready to accept that the answer was that easy. The spell was instinctual, as Prongs quickly joined them, though the animal was even brighter than it had been in Hogsmeade.
"See? No death or destruction."
"How? This shouldn't be possible…"
"Because you're needed. My heart breaks at that fact, but you're needed in a way that I don't envy in the slightest. The Hallows were calling to you, trying to help, and now that you've answered, they will repair any damage done to your magic."
"But that bullshit about love! I have a thousand more questions, and I'm still confused about how to move forward!"
"If I told you everything the answer would suffer, my boy. The only thing I'll tell you for certain is that your capacity for love is exceptional, and you should quit denying it. Now let me go, this existence is… uncomfortable. Call me if you must in the future, but I'd rather wait to renew our friendship once you've joined my world."
"I'll try not to," Harry relented, lighter yet somehow more confused than ever. "Thank you, sir. For everything."
"I was only able to help because you allowed me to. Now leave me to my peace, I have a bet to collect on from Antioch."
Harry dropped the Stone into his pocket with a farewell smile, the specter vanishing as it left his hand. He tucked the Cloak into his backpack, grateful for the warmth it cast, and turned outward towards the dark forest, Wand in hand.
His first spell felled three trees at once, his second silencing them before they crashed. The trunks were turned to animated targets with a thought, and his magic sung as he went to work.
—
"Sirius!"
The dog jumped up fearfully as he stormed into the tent, confusion clear in his yellow eyes. Harry grinned at the expression, returning his godfather to his normal form with a wave of his hand. The man looked ridiculous positioned on the bed on his hands and feet, and Harry couldn't restrain the laugh that racked his body after the hours of training.
"Harry," the man cried indignantly, after repositioning himself to sit on the cot normally. "What the hell has gotten into you?"
"Answers," he replied cryptically, grinning as he did. "Enough of this 'wayward son' bullshit, Pads. I'm heading to the Manor for a minute, and I'll meet you at the hospital after. Wake up Brunson."
Harry turned to leave, but was stopped by a firm hand on his arm. He turned, his grin falling slightly as he took in his godfather's worried expression.
"Kiddo, I need more information. I can't let you into the Manor if your magic is still… everywhere. I'm here for you, Harry, but I know you'd regret returning if you're still a danger to them."
Harry responded by pulling the man into a hug, thankful for his protective nature. He took a deep breath as Sirius' arms finally snaked around his back, and settled his nerves to provide an explanation.
—
Harry swatted a curse away with his offhand, completing his entrance into his home with a smile. His magic almost expected the attack, though the clock on the wall clearly didn't as it exploded. He held his empty hands up in supplication, allowing his attacker to take in his appearance.
Neville stepped carefully into the light, wand raised, though it quickly fell as the boy's eyes adjusted. He rushed forward without a word, wrapping Harry in a breath-stealing embrace. He returned it happily, proud of how his friend reacted to an intruder.
"The wards didn't recognize your magic," Neville offered as the pair separated. "When you swatted that blaster away, I thought I was done for."
"My magic's a bit different now," he answered, returning the grin. "I'll readjust the wards later. How can you feel them, though?"
"Not sure," the teen offered in relief. "Albus thinks it might be some distant familial connection, or maybe how protective I've been the last few days. The Manor seemed to accept me as a substitute Potter, and I don't think I like the promotion."
"No one more deserving, Nev. Thank you."
"You're welcome, and I'm pleased to pass that burden back to you."
"The fact that you shouldered it at all means the world to me."
"Don't make me kiss you, Potter."
"I believe that's my job," a voice interrupted from the stairs.
Harry's eyes seemed to move in slow motion as they found the speaker, Daphne's eyes glowing radiantly in the dim lighting. She wore a scowl, but he knew better. He raised a finger distractedly, and Neville was gently levitated into the nearby restroom. The door locked behind him with an audible click, and Harry raised his other hand, pointing at his girlfriend.
"Don't you dare, Harold," Daphne cried, her scowl turning into a jubilant smile. "I can walk just fine, and don't need to be levitated."
Harry grinned as the girl did so, skipping every other stair in her rush to get to him. His magic reacted to his glee, and his hair whipped distractingly in response. When Daphne reached the ground floor her hops turned into a sprint, and Harry mirrored the action to meet her halfway.
The pair crashed into each other gently, his magic cushioning the impact, and Harry could feel sobs wracking the girl's body. He hugged her tight, putting everything he felt into the contact, and knew she'd been through more than anyone her age should ever have to. Lights turned on as the two embraced, and their new audience stared down from above.
"Back, are you?" Daniel asked with a relieved smile.
"If that's alright," he answered with a grin. "I'd hate to interrupt your new routine."
"We'll allow it," Emily said, her eyes alight with joy. "But a calmer entrance next time would be appreciated."
"I'll install a doggy door."
The relieved and joking tone quickly turned tense as Astoria joined her parents, though Harry smiled brightly over his girlfriend's head at the younger sister.
"You look as disheveled as ever, Astoria. Pretty sure your bathroom has a mirror..."
"I was on a hygiene strike," the girl countered immediately, her family sighing in relief around her. "Wouldn't brush my hair until you returned."
Harry felt Daphne deflate in his arms at the response, and squeezed her tightly as she wiped the tears from her face.
"My hair has been brushed regularly!"
Neville's call was met with laughter, and Harry opened the door with a mere thought. The teen quickly exited, attempting to retain his dignity, and joined his girlfriend on the landing above.
"Not to be the skunk at the garden party," Emily offered gently. "But you're okay speaking to Harry?"
"Of course," Astoria answered with a smile, her arm wrapped around Neville's. "He's family, and he's fixed. I can feel it."
Daphne pulled back at that admission, and Harry locked it away to address later. He smiled at the girl gratefully, glad she felt comfortable with him, but his eyes quickly found her father.
"Daniel, I'm gonna steal Daphne for a minute, but I'm heading to the hospital soon. Remus has been out of commission for too long."
"Should I ask how you'll set him back to rights?"
"Magic," he offered, though his voice wasn't alone, Daphne mimicking him perfectly.
"Okay, you," he offered with a grin. "We're going outside for a minute, then you're going back to bed."
He led the way, his focus somehow more narrow than it was before his time away, completely unbothered by any potential issues with his plan. Daphne followed easily, her smile radiant, and Harry didn't stop until they'd reached the pond.
"Here," he breathed, looking up at the stars briefly before finding his girlfriend's eyes as he pulled her to face him. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" she asked confusedly, her eyes reflecting the bright light of the moon.
"For being gone for so long. For taking days to figure myself out, for not writing, for allowing myself to feel defeated, for letting you waste away with no information… take your pick."
"Are you back?"
"For good."
"Then I forgive you, though you didn't need to apologize for anything except not writing."
"I was going to tonight," he admitted, breathing a sigh of relief. "Your last letter broke my heart, and that felt worse than everything else. It led me to what fixed my issue, so thanks, I guess."
"I trust I'll get the full story soon?"
"Tomorrow, but I really do need to get to the hospital."
"Then why'd you pull me out here?" she asked with a smile, knowing full well what the answer was.
"To tell you something I've never said aloud," Harry answered, feeling more confident than he ever had. "I love you, Daph. With everything in my being, and it's freaking me out. No matter what happens from here, my heart is yours. I'm so in love with you I can't separate your heart from mine, and even when we're dead and buried, I'll dig through the fucking dirt to lay next to you."
"That's… somehow sweet and disturbing at the same time," Daphne countered, her smile radiant.
"Well get used to it, because Sweet And Disturbing is the title of our biography. I'm so in love with you it hurts, but I gotta get to the hospital."
"And you'll come back and explain," she replied warningly.
"Depends on if you tell me you love me back…"
"I'm completely, unbelievably, frustratingly in love with you, Harry Potter," she offered with a sigh. "And I wouldn't trade it for a normal life even though it seems like a solid offer."
"I'll make it worth it, love. I promise."
Daphne stood on her toes, and Harry happily met her halfway. Their kiss was full of promise, and the optimism nearly broke him from his determination. He shook himself as she pulled back, his grin mirrored on her face.
"Go fix the world, Harry," she offered with a smile. "I'll be here tomorrow."
"Eventually that 'tomorrow' will be free of Dark Lords, and I'm gonna give you everything you've ever dreamed of."
"Big promises."
"Guarantees."
A/N: A long one, and hopefully it answers some questions. I'm not a fan of the conversation with Ignotus, but as I added more, it just felt like words for the sake of words. Harry's changes will come more into focus as we move forward, though I have some rewriting to do as we go. Also, if you've never had a dog collapse onto your shoulder when you needed it, let me know. I have the most empathetic monster-dog of all time, and he's available for rent at $2,000 an hour.