Oh Albus, what have you wrought.
It was cold on the grounds of Hogwarts, the patrolling Dementors ending an air of desperate misery to the siege the Death Eaters had raised overnight.
Harry Potter, safely invisible under the cloak that had been in his family for a very long time, put his lips to the snitch, and it opened with a click. He turned the golden ball to one side and there it was, a black pebble, not a diamond, not a whatever a black gemstone was; Harry was no gemmologist. Harry pocketed the Snitch; it was still his first Quidditch snitch after all. The stone he turned in his hands, and bent low to inspect it. There on the stone were a few badly cut lines. If you really used your imagination, it might be a triangle with a wonky circle inside it, bisected vertically by another line. The mark of the Deathly Hallows, thought Harry. Or at least the Peverell family. It was on most of the Peverell gravestones he could remember from the Godric's Hollow churchyard.
Harry strode off to the edge of the forbidden forest, and when he got there, rolled the stone in his palm as it seemed like the right time. The chill of the Dementors faded somewhat, and out of the corner of his eye he could see the shimmering form of someone he recognised. Someone, quite significantly, dead. It looked like Sirius, waving. Harry looked over, and there was nothing there. But now, out of the opposite side of his eyes, he could see… someone that looked a lot like James Potter. Harry looked over, and the shade disappeared. After a minute or so of experimenting, Harry realised he could not see them directly. Which, he thought with a faint pout, would be well enough to drive some obsessive fiancee to suicide, had they made the stone. Harry took a deep breath, and took the protection he was granted, and walked into the forbidden forest. Towards where he could reasonably expect Tom Riddle, and the offer he'd made loudly to Hogwarts. Come to die and I will leave everyone else safe.
Harry felt a lump in his stomach, but he'd decided that this was his choice. Like mum, he'd choose to die rather than step aside. It would take care of that unexpected seventh Horcrux too. As Harry walked, he pondered that. Dumbledore had told him when he was much younger, that he'd left 'part of his power' when Voldemort tried to kill him. For a second Harry tried to imagine surviving, not being a parselmouth any more. It hadn't, thought Harry, defined him. And while he'd wished the Anaconda all the best, snakes in general weren't exactly great conversationalists. Harry ducked under a low-hanging branch, heavy with moss, and headed deeper into the forest. If Voldemort was in here, he would be neither in Centaur or giant spider territory. One of the little clearings that the unicorns or Thestrals grazed. And like a bad smell, the certainty came to Harry that Voldemort would be waiting in the clearing where he'd killed the Unicorn, and drunk its blood and frightened a young Harry nearly senseless. It would, thought Harry bitterly, appeal to Voldemort's sense of theatre.
His memory for the paths of the forest was evidently better than he'd thought. Or perhaps destiny guided his feet. Harry knew that neither could live while the other survived, and he had a job to do, after all. The clearing had, as Harry expected, a flickering campfire, and Death Eaters sitting around like they were having a camping holiday. With a few magical tents on the far side, covered in charms that made them hard to notice. Tied to a tree, slumped unconscious was Hagrid. Harry sighed. Of course Hagrid had got caught up in this. Still, Tom might keep to his promise.
Harry took off his invisibility cloak, no sense getting it damaged, and put his wand in his coat pocket; he'd not need it now. He rolled the stone, sending his barely visible ghostly companions back to wherever they came from.
"I'm here, Tom" said Harry, stepping into the firelight. He tried not to snort in amusement as Death Eaters fell over in their haste to stand, scrambled about, and Voldemort's dinner plate fell with a clang into the dirt.
"Be still, my friends" said Voldemort in a high, cold voice. Harry wanted so badly to make a snide remark, but thought that now was not the time.
"Here I am, you keep your deal," said Harry.
Voldemort stood and flourished his stolen wand. "Harry, Harry, Harry," said Voldemort "You're so young, so naive."
Harry waited for the inevitable double-cross that Tom would now explain, and tried not to think about the magical protection he was conjuring for all the occupants of the castle. Exactly the way mum did it, because under all of his posturing, Voldemort was so smart he was all the way back to stupid. He'd never think of this, Harry was sure. Tom was too concerned to live at any price, no matter how awful. Harry felt sure he was doing the right thing, if not the easy thing.
"Well, it's good to see you came," said Voldemort, turning side-on and lowering his wand "Even if you're a moron to believe my promise."
Harry tried to look confused; imagining he was trying to convince Snape a three-headed-dog had eaten his homework. And had to clamp down on the feeling of joy that idea gave him.
"Harry Potter, orphan," said Voldemort, with a sneer. "So pathetic that all he could do was run and hide. Your parents both died wandless. Like filthy muggles, did you know that. You don't even have the courage to come and fail to duel me."
"Avada Kedavra," Voldemort cast, there was the sound of rushing wind, a green flash of light, and Harry Potter, latent obscurial, exploded.
-==0==-
Hogwarts shook, dust fell from the ceilings, and the windows rattled. Professor McGonagall ran to a window, and rising over the forbidden forest was an orange-red fireball that grew a distinctive mushroom-shaped cloud.
"Oh dear god, Albus, what have you done?" asked Minerva perceptively.
The wind-storm hit Hogwarts and broke several windows, and a forest fire raged out of control.
The other two of her most troublesome three, found her in her office what felt like moments later, and joined her to watch the forest burn. The only thing that made it wrong, was that Potter was not there to lie badly about how it happened. Minerva's eyes pricked with tears. Poor bloody Potter.
"Harry said – " said miss Granger, gulping air.
"That wasn't – " sniffled mister Weasley, the younger. Minerva glanced over – they were both crying. She let her tears fall as they would.
It wasn't till the black flakes of ash hit the windows that Minerva remembered hearing about the strange explosions in New York. The war, and what Grindelwald had done.
"I fear," said Minerva, clutching her chest and feeling far more than fifty-eight all of a sudden. "I fear the very worst."
"What happened?" asked miss Granger. "That doesn't look like I expected Priori-incantaten to look like."
"Priori-incantaten?" asked Minerva.
"Well, Harry and you-know-who have brother wands, snake-face has tried all sorts of things to be able to cast spells on Harry properly." said Mr Weasley.
"Quite," said Minerva, wondering how Albus talked Olivander into giving Harry that wand in particular. Preventing what just happened until… the opportune moment.Like playing chess with an exploding pawn. You have to wait till all the enemies are in one place.
"I take it whatever mysterious quest you three were on is over?" asked Minerva.
"Practically" said mister Weasley.
"Almost entirely," said miss Granger.
Minerva cleared her throat and tried not to think about the ash blowing off the windows as the last remains of poor, neglected Potter. Left with… magic hating muggles for just long enough. How Albus had worked that out, she shuddered to think.
"It was like an atomic bomb" said miss Granger.
"I do remember the photographs, miss Granger," said Minerva.
"Nothing would have survived," said miss Granger "Not him, not his snake. That's all seven and him."
"And the entire forbidden forest," said Weasley the younger, "all his army."
"And Harry," said miss Granger, and she clung to Weasley's chest and sobbed.
It took a month for what was left of the Ministry, and the Order of the Phoenix to restore 'normality' to magical Britain, though the falsely imprisoned were still trickling out of Azkaban days later.
Professor McGonagall and the staff organised a memorial service for Harry. That was what did it, thought Hermione. Not the actual dying. The… acknowledging that Harry wasn't going to wander up the lawns from the Forbidden forest, sooty, maybe with some cuts, his hair a mess. Harry had run out of unlikely escapes from death. Ginny was standing crying, staring out the window of the Gryffindor tower that looked at the burnt-out forest.
Hermione walked over, and put an arm over her shoulders, and sniffled along.
"Did he know?" asked Ginny.
Hermione sighed, then answered, "Harry wasn't big on knowing things. I think he was just going with his instincts." Harry had known something when he left, and hadn't told her.
"I would have married him, you know," said Ginny. "After the war."
"Please don't get graphic," said Ron.
Hermione elbowed him firmly.
"Ow!" Ron complained. "It's not like he wasn't my best friend in the entire world!" he added, surreptitiously wiping his eyes.
"And what am I, chopped liver?" asked Hermione.
"Well, you're um…" said Ron.
"Oh for fucks sake!" said Ginny, shrugging out from under Hermione's arm "I'm sick of this. Everyone's sick of this. Ron, Hermione fancies you. You fancy her. Either the two of you get together, or get over it."
"I what?" said Ron.
"Ginny!" said Hermione.
"It's been three sodding years and neither of you have made a sodding move. I… I only had three months with Harry, and now I've lost him forever" said Ginny, and she sniffled again, her eyes puffy, her nose red.
"When you say with?" asked Ron.
"Ronald, now is not the time," said Hermione firmly.
"Well when is?" asked Ron. "He's dead. He's been dead for a month. My best mate was snogging my little sister."
"I'm Seventeen, Ron," said Ginny, her wand out, her knuckles whitening on it.
"But that's worse" said Ron "That means you were sixteen when you were dating Harry!"
"Ron!" said Hermione firmly.
"I'm not saying it," said Ron.
"No, just implying it so loudly a blind deaf hedgehog could work it out," said Hermione.
"Why him?" asked Ginny. "This is the best he can do, honestly Hermione, you can do better than my brother…. Well Ron anyway."
Ron's mouth opened and closed like a fish on a riverbank.
Hermione scolded Ginny with a sharp "Ginny!"
"Oh come off it, all you two do is argue." said Ginny, "Much as I loathe the idea, I think, Hermione you should send him back to Lavender, and … well get some self-respect."
"Self-Respect?" said Ron. "Self Respect? I'm a bloody war hero. We… we robbed Gingotts together, we've fought so many monsters. I helped save her from Malfoy Manor."
"Malfoy what?" said Ginny sharply.
"We um…. Got picked up by snatchers." said Hermione. "I disguised Harry with a stinging hex to the face and um… it was a… a bit of a mess."
"You shot Harry in the face? To disguise him?" asked Ginny.
"He was largely unrecognisable," said Ron. "Malfoy, the ferret, confirmed Hermione was Hermione but he lied about Harry."
"And you?" asked Ginny.
"I was in disguise already," said Ron "Some colour change charms."
"Harry;s face." said Ginny, with a faint pout.
"Oh come off it. Even with brown hair he'd still look like Harry" said Ron.
Hermione rubbed her right arm.
"Hermione?" asked Ginny "What aren't you saying?"
"That she got tortured by Bellatrix LeStrange" said Ron. "Wanted to know why we had the Sword of Gryffindor."
"Why, I know we had to get it to you but why?" asked Ginny.
"It's complicated, and not important any more" said Ron. Ginny glared at him, and her wand lifted to point at Ron's crotch.
"You-know-who made six magic talismans to keep him alive. Destroying them needed something that put them, um." Ron said.
"Beyond magical repair," said Hermione.
"Yeah that," said Ron. "Sword of Gryffindor, as you know, imbued with Basilisk venom. Works really well. As did basilisk fangs. The um, diary was one of them."
Ginny closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, then opened her eyes, and stared Ron in the face. "How did you get into the chamber?" asked Ginny.
"I just copied the noises Harry would make in his nightmares," said Ron casually "I think everyone in dorms knows how to say open in parseltongue. At least by the end of sixth year he learnt silencing charms."
Ginny, for some reason, blushed at this point.
"He'd been… talking in his sleep?" asked Ginny. "You never said."
Ron smiled a little. "Well at least I know … any way not so much um, talking as screaming but yeah… chatty bloke, asleep Harry."
Ginny blushed further.
"Don't worry Gin" said Ron tactlessly. "We heard him going on about Cho's hair for an entire year."
Ginny stared at Ron, open-mouthed.
"Well," said Hermione, with a faint grimace. "Lets not dwell on Harry's sleeping habits."
"I'd have had to wear earmuffs" said Ginny. Ron went a little green in the face at that point.
"RON?" asked Hermione.
"Come off it, we all slept in the same tent. Harry was always tossing and turning." said Ron.
"I thought that was … just the connection, the stress of being on the run" said Hermione quietly. Ron shook his head.
"Why did he do it?" asked Ginny. Hermione lifted her wand and cast the silencing charm from that dratted book.
"He had to," said Ron. "Snape knew, Dumbledore knew. Harry looked at Snapes dying memories in the pensive and off he went" said Ron.
"Snape knew what?" asked Hermione.
"When you-know-who tried to kill Harry as a baby, a bit of his soul got stuck in Harry's scar. A sort of unintentional Horcrux" said Ron.
"Ron!" exclaimed Hermione "How do you know that?"
"Well, I still had the marauders map, so I nicked up a day later and had a look in the pensive" said Ron.
"You… looked in the pensive." said Hermione.
"Always the tone of surprise" said Ron.
"So… Harry … " said Ginny, sniffling.
"Yeah. He knew" said Ron. "Didn't tell either of us either, if that helps."
"RON!" exclaimed Hermione.
Ron shrugged. "Secret defeating dark lords business. Being the chosen one's not all it's cracked up to be, I guess."
"So…. There was no way he could…." said Ginny, crying. Ron shook his head. "Nah. I can't say I'm pleased. Poor bastard. And then it turns out he never even had a shag."
Hermione and Ginny stared at Ron. "Ron, how could you?" asked Hermione.
"This is my point, Hermione," said Ginny, wiping her nose on her robe-sleeve. "He's just too insensitive."
Ron huffed "Well sod this, I'm going down to the Hogs head." he said, and strode off.
Ginny gave Hermione a soft hug "like I said, he's too insensitive for you. You're… for all that you're fierce, you're sensitive. I suspect he can just let Lavenders' bullshit slide right off, and she ignores his insensitive moments."
"Does she?" sniffled Hermione.
"Before you lot came back… she was going on about what a big hero he is. I mean, he is, don't get me wrong, but he's… he's Ron. Now, I might have overheard the twins talking about presents for you last summer. Fred wanted to make you a Draco Malfoy punching bag." said Ginny.
Hermione couldn't hold in a snort. "It was just a slap!" she protested.
"Anyway, George thought they couldn't sell it, in case some poor deluded witch took the bag off the stand and used it as cuddle pillow."
Hermione stiffened and barely held down bile. "Oh god. Nobody would be so… deluded?"
"You never know" said Ginny quietly. "And George gave Fred stick about wanting to give Miss Granger a really nice present."
Hermione pulled out the hug and eyeballed Ginny, who didn't look like she was kidding.
"You're serious?" but they're… slackers."
"Technically, my brother wears a suit to work, makes serious galleons, works long hours and still squeezed in helping to run Potterwatch" said Ginny. "It's a vile purple pinstripe, but at least it suits his complexion."
Hermione couldn't hold in a chuckle. "There's no way he'd like me. Anyone would like me." she sniffled again.
"Oh come off it. You're a war hero, clever, pretty, and guaranteed to take over the ministry in time." said Ginny.
"I'm not taking over the ministry. Just… reforming some laws" said Hermione.
"Whatever" said Ginny. "Come on, let's go get chocolate pudding and sniffle in the kitchens."