A/N: To those who enjoyed and reviewed, thanks for your time, I really do appreciate it! To those who were disappointed, I hope you find a fic more your speed.
For the younger writers, don't let performative reviewers make you doubt your plan, your vision. My older stuff is absolute crap, I cared what people thought back then and if I had been discouraged while I was learning, I wouldn't have the kept writing. This is fanfiction, you're the fan, write for you. Be grateful for constructive criticism provided in good faith, ignore the reviewers who make you feel like you have to change your story to make them happy. You don't need their approval. If you really want to improve, find other writers you like, PM them for feedback. I guarantee you most will be glad to help.
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Chapter 5: Memento vivere ~ Remember to live
Hermione woke to find herself in the Great Hall which was now appeared to be a makeshift… everything. The section she was in was clearly a triage space for the healer, dedicated for minor injuries. She wasn't ready yet to know who was in need of the hospital wing or worse, died in the battle. Laying still, she took in the sounds around her. It sounded like victory. People were explaining the moment of victory in their duels, laughs were echoing off the walls of people finally able to feel a happy emotion even if it came at a price. The large communal space served as a meeting place for separated friends and families to reunite, a command center to coordinate urgent repairs, and a safe place to heal mental and physical wounds.
Gently probing her side, she found it was tender but not painful. Then her hand went to her cheek. It still warned her not to press too hard, it felt like the swelling was gone. She was able to open both eyes wide. It would seem the majority of her physical damage was healed. The mental wounds... well that was a different matter.
Still she didn't move. She wanted one more moment of anonymity. Once those she cared for knew she was awake there would be questions and commentary on her actions. They'd want to tell her about what she had missed. Not just that battle, but the entire war. It was nearly a year since she had seen most. Dumbledore's funeral or Bill and Fleur's wedding. Those were the last gatherings she could remember. It was hard to believe only a year had passed since she had been at Hogwarts. So much had happened. She wasn't the same person anymore. The work wasn't over, she knew that. The castle was badly damaged, the ministry was full of Voldemort's loyalists. It was also possible that the Death Eaters may have just lost this battle and planned to regroup to continue the war. Was she ready to learn what came next? Staying on that cot wasn't going to change any of it. Pushing herself up, she swung her legs over the side, caught sight of the mud, dirt, and blood that caked the knees of her pants. Finding her vine wand secured in her wand pocket, she cleaned her jeans and her shirt, the improvement was superficial. No one had noticed her yet. Knowing she had a few seconds to try to control what interactions happened first, she scanned those closest to her. Remus and Tonks were huddled on a nearby bench pulled up to a lone table. They'd be able to explain to her how the fighting ended. Maybe prepare her for the news regarding casualties. Slipping into the bench across from them, she watched their attention shift to her, and large smiles graced their tired features.
"Hermione! It's good to see you up," Lupin started. "How are you feeling?"
Tonks pulled over a teapot and poured a steaming cup for Hermione.
Hermione took the mug in her hands, let the heat radiating from it warm her. "Sore. Tired. I imagine that's how a lot of people feel right now. I should be happy to feel anything."
"Harry told us what happened. What he could," Tonks explained. "There are things he wasn't sure he really understood."
"Where is Harry," she asked, looking around cautiously, not wanting to call attention to herself.
"Last I saw, he was talking to Kingsley," Tonks answered. "They were heading for the Headmistress's office."
"Headmistress?" Hermione asked.
"Severus understood he couldn't continue in the post. Not after everything people thought he had done. Minerva's in charge until the board officially votes," Remus explained.
Standing, Hermione realized she needed to see him. Make sure he was really okay.
Tonks reached up, laid a hand on Hermione's arm. "What you did today. No one will forget."
Tears welled up in her eyes, she didn't let them fall. "Thanks." She didn't know what else to say. She didn't feel like a hero. She had been thrust into the situation and did what needed to be done. A part of her always knew the destruction of Voldemort was for the greater good of the entire wizarding community. Her personal motivation had been to save Harry. Was that heroism? It felt selfish. Slipping through the maze of tables, benches, and cots, it didn't take long exit the Great Hall. The amount of rubble was shocking. Clearly the fighting breached the castle. How far, she still wasn't sure.
The unmistakable red hair flashed near the stairs caught her eye. The Weasleys. All of them except Arthur it appeared. They were moving large stones, clearing the path to Gryffindor tower. She wasn't sure how they would react to her. What Ron had told them? Feeling her pockets, she found Ron's wand was in her back pocket again. She didn't remember doing that. Steeling herself, she approached the family and was unprepared for the welcome she received.
They all were genuinely happy to see she was unhurt. Even Percy was in a jovial mood. Ron was more reserved but gone was his anger and hurt. Maybe surviving the fight put some things in perspective. She motioned to Ron to step aside.
Ron rubbed the back of his neck, followed her to stand out of ear shot. Not that it mattered. The siblings were too busy joking around, annoying their mother to eavesdrop.
"Where's your dad," she asked, concerned by his absence.
"With the rest of the Order. They were heading to 12 Grimmauld Place. See if it could be saved now, then they were going to the Ministry," he told her.
Relieved, Hermione held out his wand to him. "I got this from Draco. It saved my life," she said.
He looked from the wand to Hermione in surprise. Taking it from her he smiled, "I didn't think I'd see it again. It's a good wand isn't it?"
"It is," she agreed. She took his free hand, waited for him to look at her. "You're a good friend, Ron. I'm sorry if that was ruined in all of this."
He shook his head vehemently. "Listen, I know I handled everything badly. I was mad at myself for messing up so much and hurt. I took it out on you and Harry."
Squeezing his hand before letting it go, she smiled. "We have a lot to talk about. When the dust settles."
"Yeah. Alright," he said hopeful. "I am happy for you and Harry." He didn't wait for a response, and returned to his family.
It was a start, Hermione thought and continued on to the tower. The further into the school she walked the less damage she saw. It wasn't clear to her why the fighting stopped. They couldn't have known Voldemort was gone. They thought he was gone already. Did they just give up?
She wasn't surprised to find the staircase open to the headmistress's office. No one was standing near it to tell her if she'd be interrupting something sensitive if she walked up the spiral steps. Lingering, a light on in a small library nearby. Stepping inside, she found Snape furiously writing on a long roll of parchment. "Professor Snape," Hermione said, not wanting to intrude.
"Miss Granger. You can call me Severus now. I think my teaching days are over, don't you?"
"Are they?" she asked, sat down across from him. "It might be hard for people to accept what you did, I don't think that changes what you did."
The corner of his mouth curled ruefully, "Most people aren't as logical as you are. I will await to learn my fate once the new minister reviews this report."
She looked at the scroll, realized he was documenting every action he took, every reason why he did it. "New minister?"
"The imperiused minister came out of the curse's influence a few hours ago. As did many employed by the ministry. A curious number also mysteriously came out from under the influence after them. Too long after them. It will take a while to sort out who was coerced and who carried out the dark lord's wishes voluntarily," he explained. "Kingsley Shacklebolt was named the interim minister."
Hermione looked up to where Shacklebolt was, presumably. "I was looking for Harry. I was told he was with Kingsley."
Snape studied her with the eyes of someone who knew much more than they were willing to admit. "He is. There are sensitive matters to discuss. I imagine they need you to resolve some of them."
"Of course. I guess we all need to take responsibility for our actions," she said and stood.
"Miss Granger," Snape stopped her. He seemed to stall, considering something. Then a decision was made. He pulled out a wand from the inside pocket of his cloak. Handed it to her. "I took this from the body of Voldemort. I understand it was Dumbledore's wand. I intended to return it where it belonged. This morning, I thought that was the grave. Now, I think it's with you."
Hermione stared at the elder wand. She wasn't sure if Snape knew what it represented, the history of the death stick. Was it really hers? She didn't disarm Voldemort and she didn't know wandlore well enough to really understand how allegiances changed. Taking it from Snape, she studied it, felt warmth on her palm where it rested. She didn't think death itself crafted it. That didn't change the power it represented. Should it continue to exist in the world or was it better off in a grave? It was her decision to make. Giving Snape a curt nod, she turned and headed for the spiral stairs again.
Voices drifted down as she climbed up. There were several people in the office suite. She wasn't prepared for who was there. Hermione stood, unnoticed for several seconds. Narcissa and Lucius were sitting on a couch together, their faces somber. Harry was on a chair next to them. He looked conflicted. Kingsley's back was to her, she could tell by his rigid stance whatever the conversation entailed, it wasn't good news.
Narcissa spotted Hermione first. She touched her husband's knee and nodded in her direction. Hermione wondered if she took a step back if she could just drop down to the ground floor and get away from whatever she walked into.
Harry stood but didn't move toward her.
It was finally Kingsley who made a move. "Hermione. Come, sit," he said, his voice conveyed calm. It was a contrast to the general feel of the office.
Sitting in a chair next to Harry, she looked to him for reassurance. He took her hand in his and she let his touch ground her.
"Much changed today, didn't it?" Kingsley asked.
Was it really still the same day, Hermione wondered. Had it been that morning that she decided to assassinate Voldemort? To say much had happened was an understatement. Four horcruxes destroyed. The war was over. A new Minister for Magic sat in front of her. Voldemort's body wasn't just dead, his soul was gone. And it was still the same, eternally long day. "For you too, I hear," she finally said. It was weird to know the minister so well. How should she address him now?
He acknowledged her words and continued. "We will need a full account of your actions to understand how this all unfolded. It can wait until you've had some rest and feel recovered from all you've been through. Unfortunately there are some time sensitive issues that need attention before this day is over." The minister said and looked to the Malfoys.
What would they have to say that she needed to hear? Lucius looked completely defeated. He could barely make eye contact with anyone in the office.
Narcissa leaned forward. "Hermione," she started and then raised her brow. Asking for permission to call her by her first name.
Hermione offered a curt nod.
"We understand my sister was killed tonight when you saved Severus," she said.
A cold fear ran through Hermione. "It wasn't intentional," she said quickly. Fearful she might be accused of using a killing curse or attacking Bellatrix out of revenge for what she did to her.
Narcissa held up both hands, a gesture of appeal. "I'm not blaming you. Bella was unstable. I didn't realize how much her time in Azkaban really changed her. When she found out the dark lord was murdered, and that someone did it disguised as her, she completely lost her grip on reality. The battle today happened because of her. We couldn't stop her."
Confused, Hermione tried to understand what was going on. Harry offered an encouraging smile, "They helped the Order. Saved Remus and Tonks. Hear them out."
"We didn't need to be told the dark lord was killed. The dark mark faded, just as it did the first time. That didn't matter to Bella. She insisted that because the mark didn't disappear he was still out there and she needed to find him."
"How did they figure out it was me," Hermione asked. Draco had made it clear Bellatrix was ready to kill her. Not Ron, not Harry.
"When Rockwood showed us the murder weapon, Bellatrix knew it was one of you. She had been paranoid to make sure no one could use polyjuice potion, she'd obsessively check for loose hair. She'd file her nails to make sure one never broke off. The only thing that made sense to her was that the day she used the cruciatus curse on you, you got away before she could check you over."
"For someone who was so unstable, she sounds rational enough to work out what happened," Harry commented.
Lucius let a small chuckle escape him despite his embarrassment.
Narcissa ignored both men and pressed on. "While the others were trying to find where you went, how you got away, the snake was killed. It didn't take long for my sister to suspect Snape was involved. He was unaccounted for by that time. She organized the attack on the school, intent on getting Snape and making him confess."
Hermione leaned forward, "This fills in some blanks, but I'm not sure I understand what you need from me now?"
Harry's hand tightened on hers. She looked at their entwined fingers and then up at him.
"Hermione," Kingsley got her attention. "The Malfoys may have made some wrong choices, but in the end, they took on great personal risk to end this war. They will have a lot to answer for, in the meantime, they have a request that I'm inclined to support for many reasons, not least of which is that it involves an innocent baby."
Wherever Hermione thought the conversation was going, this wasn't close. Baby. Then it dawned on her. "Delphini."
"Yes," Narcissa confirmed. "Harry explained how you came to know about her existence. She's an innocent newborn. If word gets out who her parents are Death Eaters and Order members alike will fear her. It's a matter of time before someone tries to kill her. If she manages to survive, she'll be an outcast when people find out who she is."
Hermione couldn't argue that Delphini would grow up with a black cloud around her, though she wanted to point out that Order members weren't likely to kill an innocent child, no matter who gave birth to her. That was something Voldemort would do. Tried to do.
"There aren't many options to give her a convincing new identity. We need a couple who have been out of public view for a year, who carry with them the reputation that would give her a chance in life," Narcissa broached the request.
Hermione's brow furrowed. "A couple?" she asked. At once it made sense. "Harry and me? You want us to be her parents?" It was a shock to even consider what Narcissa was asking of her.
"We're not asking you to raise her. She needs a birth certificate. The baby of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger would stand a chance. Even if she grew up in an orphanage."
"What… why…" she stammered. It was too much to process. The request, the suggestion, the implications.
"Maybe give us a minute," Harry said.
The Malfoys and Kingsley agreed, stood, and left the office.
Hermione was silent the entire time it took for the group to be out of earshot. When it was clear, she cast a muffliato spell on the entrance. Nothing she was about to say was for anyone's ears except Harry's. "I.. I don't even know what to say."
"I know. This is a shock to me too."
"We just let the world believe we had a child while we were on the run and when the war was over, we abandoned her at an orphanage? So we can be free to live our own lives without the complications of raising a kid?"
"We don't have to agree to this."
She stood, paced back and forth in front of him and then sat again. "I made her an orphan."
"Hermione," he warned. "Delphini isn't your fault or your responsibility."
"Isn't she? I used my knowledge of her to kill her father."
"Father is a generous term," Harry countered.
"I refuse to let her think we gave birth to her and didn't want her."
"Okay, so we tell them to find someone else," he agreed.
Hermione shook her head. She couldn't let go of the fact that she made Delphini an orphan.
"No?" Harry answered her nonverbal response. "What's the alternative?"
"We take her and raise her. Together."
Harry didn't react like a person who hadn't been thinking the same thing. Maybe he wanted her to come to the same conclusion on her own. "We could do that."
"We can?" she asked, still not able to really process the reality of the request.
"Now that the war is over, I want to fix up 12 Grimmauld Place. I thought we could move there. Together. One day we would start a family together. Maybe it just happens sooner than we expected."
Hermione rubbed her temples. They just had their first kiss that day. And here they sat a few hours later, talking about moving in together and adopting the daughter of Voldemort and Bellatrix. It was happening too fast. Were they really in a place to make such life changing decisions? "What if she's not okay? What if we make it worse?"
"It's not her fault she was born. She can't control who her real parents were. Imagine if Tom had been adopted by a couple capable of loving him," Harry countered quietly.
She knew the argument. Nature verses nurture. "You weren't given to a loving couple, but your nature was able to overcome. Voldemort was a sociopath. Bellatrix was… insane. Besides, I don't know how to be a girlfriend yet, how can I be a mother?"
Harry twisted in his seat, took both her hands. "Hermione. We had to grow up fast this year. We're beyond adolescent dating. I know I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. Nothing will change that. I don't want a girlfriend, I want a partner. And I think we both have that already, right?"
He was right. She loved him. They were beyond dating. They were already a family and knew how to live with each other in less than ideal circumstances. "Of course," she said.
"As far as her genes are concerned, do we know for sure she's genetically Tom's?" he asked.
"You mean maybe she's Rodolphus'?" she asked, not understanding.
He shook his head. "I mean, maybe she's mine. Voldemort used my blood and his father's bones to make his body. Maybe he's a Potter and not a Riddle."
Her eyes grew big. It hadn't been a consideration. She didn't pretend to understand principles of advanced biology nor had she studied whatever ritual was used to form a new body for Voldemort's soul. She decided not to mention that Delphini could also be a Pettigrew. She guessed he also remembered the contribution Wormtail had made. She didn't need to remind him. "Are we really doing this?" she asked, feeling like the decision was made.
"I'm in if you are," he said.
She nodded and let him invite the others back, let them all sit back down. Harry looked at Hermione. She cleared her throat. "We're willing for you to use our names on the birth certificate," she said. Narcissa let out a sigh of relief. "But we don't want her to be sent to an orphanage."
"What are you saying," Kingsley asked.
"We want to raise her," Harry answered. "Together."
Narcissa looked apprehensively at Lucius. "Why would you do this?"
"Because I'm the reason she doesn't have her parents. Because I can't live with the idea of her thinking we gave her up and didn't want her. She deserves to be loved and cared for. If someone had done this for Tom Riddle in the first place, none of us would be in this position," Hermione said forcefully, but not unkindly. "You don't want to raise her?" she asked pointedly.
"We don't think it will be better for her to be a Malfoy and that would certainly be hard to explain. I'm past child bearing years, there isn't another woman in our line capable of pulling it off," she admitted.
"Where is she?" Hermione asked.
"Safe with a nanny."
"The nanny will know. Rodolphus knows. How will you protect her secret?"
"I obliviated his memory myself," Lucius said. "Before I turned him over to the Aurors. He doesn't know. The nanny's memory can be altered as well."
It was late and Hermione was exhausted. She desperately wanted the day to be over.
"We'd like to go back to the old Order's headquarters if it's safe?" Harry asked, sensing she was running out of energy. "We can pick Delphini up when the paperwork is settled."
"It is in our control again. The house elf has been maintaining it," Kingsley said, careful not to divulge the location they were referring to. The Malfoys may have gotten some good will back, but they still weren't cleared of suspicion. "This is a big decision. Take the night to think it all over. If you change your mind, we'll devise another solution."
Harry stood, pulled Hermione to her feet. "We'll send an owl in the morning," he said and led her from the office. "I think we can apparate from the Quidditch pitch. I've seen people coming and going from there."
Her mind was so preoccupied she didn't remember the short walk. One minute she was in the castle, the next, she was standing in the shadow of the spectator stands. Harry had his wand out. She stared at it, let him apparate them to 12 Grimmauld Place. The ghost of Dumbledore greeted them and the painting of Walburga Black started yelling. Hermione couldn't help it, she started laughing. It was all so surreal.
Harry smiled, and pulled her further inside. The place was as clean as it had been when they were using it as a hideout. It needed a lot of work. "Where's Kreacher?" Harry asked. At the invocation of the name, the old house elf appeared in front of them.
"Kreacher was at the school. Kreacher helped Dobby defend the castle," he said and immediately got busy in the kitchen.
Hermione opened her mouth to stop him from making food. Harry stopped her. "We haven't eaten all day," he said. "Let's sit. There are a few things I'd like to talk about. If you're not too tired."
"It would be nice to sit and talk," she agreed. Pulled out a chair for him and sat in her usual spot. A cup of herbal tea appeared in front of her. Grateful, she took a sip.
Harry set his wand down and picked up his own cup Kreacher offered.
Looking at the wand again, she thought about the elder wand she now possessed. "Harry, you still have the pieces of your holly wand in your mokeskin bag?"
"Yeah," he said, took them out to show her. "I don't know why I've been keeping them. Ollivander said it can't be repaired."
Hermione pulled out the elder wand, "Professor Snape gave me this. He planned to return it to Dumbledore's tomb, but changed his mind. He thinks it's mine now. If that's true, maybe I can repair it."
"When did he do that?"
"Right before I found you in the Headmistress's office," she explained, looked at the elder wand and then the pieces of Harry's. "Reparo."
The two ends righted themselves and snapped back together. They watched the split in the wood seal itself up, surrounding the phoenix feather again.
Harry picked it up, "Lumos," he said. The light shone so brightly it was hard to look at. The wood held fast. He put his hand over hers and smiled. "Thank you."
Before he could put the mokeskin bag back around his neck, he felt the large lump of snitch. Pulling it out, he was surprised to find it open, revealing an empty, hollow pocket. Tipping the bag over a small black stone fell on the table.
They stared at it. Then Hermione pulled out the invisibility cloak from her bag. All three Deathly Hallows together again.
"It must have opened when You-Know-Who's soul was destroyed," she reasoned.
"Can we talk about that?" Harry asked cautiously. "How did you know your idea would work?"
"I didn't," she admitted. "I was hoping his desperation to live, his fear of death would force him to at least try. Do you think he really felt remorse or was it your feelings that put the pieces of soul back together."
Harry shook his head. "I don't know. At that point it was impossible to know which thoughts and feelings were mine and which were his. I think, when the Horcrux released its hold on me and merged with him, we were essentially the same."
"How can we know he's gone for good?" she asked, voicing the fear that was weighing on her.
He looked in surprise. "You were really out of it when we got back up to the Great Hall? I thought you were in shock," he assessed.
"I don't remember anything after I untied you," she confessed.
Kreacher interrupted with large bowls of soup, fresh bread, and an assortment of biscuits.
"Thank you, Kreacher," she said, forgetting he wasn't receptive to muggleborns talking to him. "You did good today. You should get some sleep."
"The witch thinks Kreacher is done with his work. Kreacher still needs to make up the rooms for master and his witch to sleep."
The change in how he referred to her didn't go unnoticed. It nearly brought her to tears.
Harry cleared his throat. "We just need one room," he said and looked at her to confirm.
She smiled and nodded.
"Oh. Master and his witch are finally together," he muttered, his voice fading the further into the house he went.
"His witch is an improvement, right" Harry asked, concerned how she'd take it. "He can call you by your name. I can make it an order."
"I don't mind. Don't order him. Maybe he'll come around on his own," she said. "What happened when you got me into the Great Hall?"
"The battle was completely over. All the Death Eaters had retreated," he continued.
"How did they know?"
"The dark mark. On their forearms. It disappeared. From everyone," he explained. "They scattered."
"Are you sure?"
"Yep. Draco, Lucius, and Snape all submitted their arms for inspection. There wasn't a trace," Harry confirmed.
"Did we lose anyone?" she asked.
"No one died," he said. "Except Bellatrix and a few Snatchers."
"It could have been a massacre," Hermione observed. "They outnumbered us at least three to one."
"Yeah, well, they weren't organized. Bellatrix may have taken command, she was clearly preoccupied with her own agenda."
They sat in silence, considered how it all unfolded. Harry handed her some bread.
Relenting, Hermione started eating. Once the food hit her stomach, she realized how hungry she was. When Harry started eating himself, it didn't take long to clean their bowls.
"Everything changes tomorrow," Hermione finally said.
"Again," he countered. "Hopefully for good."
"Not just out there," she corrected. "In here too."
Harry responded by standing and pulling her to her feet. He grabbed a couple of cookies, handed her one as he pulled her toward the stairs. "We won't be living in a tent anymore."
"Or eating mushroom water," she added, eating her cookie.
"Or looking for Horcruxes. Or breaking into banks. Or worrying any minute a snatcher will find us," Harry continued to enumerate the changes as they walked up the stairs.
"We'll be changing diapers and making bottles," she countered.
"Together," he agreed, pulled her into the master bedroom, closed the door with his foot. They stood facing each other. Harry traced the outline of the bruise still marring her cheek and eye. His hands started to unbutton her flannel.
She let it fall open, let him study the bruise blooming over her ribs. Finally his eyes turned up to hers. She stared into green irises, waited to see a flash of red. Instead all she saw was guilt. Hermione pulled his head down to her lips. Their tongues danced around each other as her hands slipped under his shirt. Feeling the heat and muscle under her hands, she wanted more. Pulling up on the hem of the shirt, it slipped easily over his head. She tossed it aside, stood breathing heavily she thought about the life she wanted. The home they would build together. The family they would make. She wanted all of it. Surprised to find she harbored no doubts.
"What are you thinking?" he asked, his hands tracing intimate circles on her exposed skin.
"How lucky I am. How much I love you," she admitted.
He smiled, tugged on the back of her shirt, let it fall. He unbuttoned her pants, they slid down her slim frame, a testament to the weight she had lost that year. Harry picked her up and set her on the bed. "Show me."
His weight felt good against her. Her hands trailed up his back, she turned her head to give him better access to neck. His lips were gentle and soft against the sensitive skin. She let herself revel in the safety she felt in his embrace. The unwavering trust she had in him. In them. How many impossible things had they accomplished together? How many more would be asked of them? The world was changing. That was for tomorrow. Tonight they had each other.