The Refiner's Fire

Abraxan

Story Summary:
Complete. Prequel to "The Time of Destiny." In the summer before his sixth year at Hogwarts, Harry Potter learns to come to terms with the death of Sirius. As he heals and grows emotionally, he learns how to enjoy life again. But there's a war on, and Voldemort's primary objective is to kill Harry Potter, by any means necessary. As a result, Harry and his friends have a very adventurous sixth year at Hogwarts. Canon-based through OotP with some OC.

Chapter 23

Chapter Summary:
Harry has a serious talk with each of the young women in his life. Ron’s decided he’d rather live a dog’s life. Harry has an interesting memory.
Posted:
03/03/2005
Hits:
4,923
Author's Note:
Many thanks to Kelpie, Brit-picker extraordinaire and my betas, Blakevich, Starfox, Pilar and Shawn!


Chapter 23 - Betrayal

"You what?!" Harry gasped after a moment. "No. No way. You're my best friend. You're my best mate's girlfriend. You can't love me, not like that."

Hermione nodded, her eyes sparkling with tears again. "Yes. Exactly like that."

"But . . .Ginny. . .Ron. . . ." He stormed away from her, at a complete loss for words. He ran his fingers anxiously through his hair, undoing the mess she'd created but making one of his own.

"Yes, I know. Everyone we care about will be crushed. I've been fighting this for so long, and then I just couldn't take it anymore." She stepped toward him, reaching her hand timidly toward his back. When she touched his shoulder, he whirled around, knocked her hand away and glared at her.


"You led me on! You just wanted to snog me like those fan girls. Are you really Hermione, or are you someone else Polyjuiced to look like her?" He felt rage building up in him and fought to control it so he wouldn't blow anything up or hurt this girl, whoever she was.

"I'm Hermione, I really am, Harry. Ask me anything. Ask me why my teeth aren't too big anymore. Ask me about all the times we went places we weren't supposed to under the Invisibility Cloak. Ask me about the time in the Shrieking Shack when Sirius and Remus showed us who Scabbers really was. Ask me anything, Harry. Please believe me. It's me." Tears streamed down her face unheeded.

"Hermione wouldn't do this. She cares about Ron," he snarled.

"I used to care about Ron. I've outgrown him, and just couldn't sort out how to break up with him. And when I outgrew him, suddenly I started falling for you," she said miserably.


"Meanwhile, I'm very happy with Ginny. Have you considered that? Have you even noticed it?" he snapped. He paced around the room with long strides, running his fingers through his hair distractedly, glaring at her from time to time.

"Yes, I've noticed, and it breaks my heart. I want you to be happy, Harry, I really do. But I want you to be happy with me." Her eyes flickered with that odd light again. "You know you want me," she said in a low, throaty voice he'd never heard before.

Harry's jaw dropped in shock. A moment later, panic hit him. "You can't be Hermione. Where is she? Is she hurt? What have you done with her?" he cried, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her until her teeth rattled.

"It's me, honest, Harry, it's me! The spell that hurt me in the Department of Mysteries was purple - I don't think anyone but Madam Pomfrey and those of us who went there know that. What else can I tell you?" she said, sobbing now. "I can't help it. I love you, Harry. When I realized it, I realized I've loved you for years, but I didn't know that was what it was. I thought it was friendship or hero-worship or admiration or something like that, but no. It's love. It really is. I love you. I'd do anything for you."

He stood still, staring at her. He didn't know what to do. This couldn't be happening. Finally, he said, "You'll do anything for me?"

"Yes, anything."

"Then you'll act as if nothing has happened between us. You'll stay friendly with Ginny and Ron. If you want to break up with Ron, do it cleanly and don't leave him hanging in the air, but do not - I repeat, do NOT implicate me in any way. I'm not in love with you. I loved you as a dear friend. I don't think I know you anymore, though." He was panting with the effort of controlling his temper.

"You . . .loved me? You don't love me anymore?" Her eyes were wide, almost panicked.

"You knew I loved you as a friend. You knew that. Now you've thrown it away. We will have to be careful around each other now. We can't be relaxed and just have fun together or you will think I'm leading you on, or I will wonder if you're flirting with me, or I'll worry that Ron or Ginny may think we're behaving oddly. It can't be like before, not now."

"Harry," she said desperately, "we're young. Most people go through lots of relationships before they find their life partner. You're going to outgrow Ginny soon, I'm sure of it. You and I were meant to be together! We have a future together! Ron and Ginny will forgive us someday."

"'Ron and Ginny will forgive us someday'?" he snarled. "They'd never forgive us, and I wouldn't blame them! Do you have any idea of how betrayed I feel? And you want me to think about the future? As far as I know, my future may stretch to the end of this school year, if I'm lucky! If Voldemort has his way, I won't last that long. Do you understand that? That's my reality. I have to live each day the best I can, because it may be the last day I have. I can't think about 'someday' the way other people can. I can just hope that I actually have a 'someday.'"

"I know! That's partly why. . . . You've had so many close calls this year, and every one has torn my heart out. And then I started feeling differently toward you, and the thought of losing you, of you being gone without my having a chance to love you. . .it was unbearable. I just. . . ." She seemed to have run out of ways to express her feelings. She stood there, her hands held limply at her sides, and wept openly, looking at him with heartbroken eyes.

Harry's face hardened when he looked at her. "I'm sorry you've been upset over my many 'close calls.' I can't do anything about them, or about how you feel about me. Don't you dare interfere with my relationship with Ginny. And be kind to Ron when you break up with him. And do break up with him soon. Don't leave him hanging onto hope the way he has been lately." He tried to slow his breathing and calm his temper, then roughly pushed past her to the classroom door. He turned back and glared at her once more. "We're finished. I can't tell you how sorry I am that you broke up our friendship. You and Ron and I were good together." He said, "Alohomora," stalked out of the door and out of Hermione's life.

"Hi, Harry!" Ginny said brightly several minutes later as she saw Harry coming down the corridor. "What are you doing?"

Harry did his best to calm himself and smile for her. "Looking for you. I could stand a good snog, couldn't you?"

"Always!" she said in delight, skipping along next to him. "Where shall we go?"

"There's bound to be an empty room around here somewhere," he said, taking her hand and peering into the unused classrooms they were passing. "This one's not too messy. OK with you?"

"Yeah," she said, her eyes sparkling. Harry performed a Cushioning Charm on the floor near the wall, sealed the door, and they sat down side by side. Ginny snuggled into his arms, nestling her head on his shoulder. "You're so tense. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he lied.


"Not nothing," she said, sitting up and studying his face. "You've had an argument with someone, haven't you?"

"No. Don't worry about it. Come here," he said, pulling her into his lap and lifting her chin so he could kiss her.

She put her fingers on his lips. "Nope, not until you come clean. You'll feel better if you talk about it," she insisted, leaning away from him a bit.

Harry nibbled her fingers, trying to act playful, as he racked his brain. He needed to come up with a believable cover story, and fast. "Um. . .I just got annoyed with Malfoy, that's all." Yeah, that would do. Malfoy annoyed him on a regular basis.

"What did he do this time?"

"It's more the fact that he exists, you know?" he said with a crooked smile, appreciating Malfoy for perhaps the first time in his life. "He's such a git."

"Yeah, he is."

"Let's not talk about him," Harry said, studying her mouth quite seriously. "I came in here to have a nice snog with you."

"Oh really? Is that all I'm good for?" she teased, kissing him on the chin. "Got your dimple," she said with a grin.

"And you can keep it, or put it back, as you like, m'lady," he said, getting into their silly game. As they kissed, he finally relaxed. Why couldn't everyone be cheerful, funny, bright, warm and affectionate like Ginny? Oh well, as long as he had Ginny, life was good. He'd think about the loss of his best friend later.

* * * * *

Harry didn't see Ron or Hermione at dinner, and that was unusual, especially for Ron, who was always hungry. He looked for his friend for a while, then gave it up, hoping that Hermione had come to her senses and the two of them were making up in an unused classroom somewhere. He stayed late in the Common Room with Ginny, helping her with her O.W.L. revision. When he went up to his room, he heard odd, muffled noises coming from behind the drawn curtains of Ron's bed.

"Ron? You all right?" he asked quietly, moving toward the bed.

"H-h-harry?" Ron muttered.

"Yeah. What's wrong?" Harry parted the curtains and saw Ron sitting on his bed, his face red and blotchy from crying. He'd been holding his pillow to his face to muffle the sounds.

"Can we take your Invisibility Cloak and go somewhere private? I don't want the others to see me like this. I'm a Prefect," he said miserably.

"Yeah, hang on," Harry said, then grabbed his cloak out of his trunk. "Here we are. Where shall we go?" he whispered as he spread the cloak over the two of them. They were both so tall, they had to hunch over quite a bit to fit under it.

"How about the passage to Honeydukes? We could just sit in the passage. Nobody knows about that, right?"

"Nobody but us and Fred and George," Harry agreed. "All right, come on then," he said as he opened the portrait hole.


A short time later, the boys were sitting in the tunnel to Honeydukes, sharing some chocolate frogs from the stash in Harry's pockets.

"Let me know if you want to talk about it," Harry said quietly.

Ron nodded, biting the head off another chocolate frog viciously. After four or five frogs, he finally looked Harry in the eye. "She broke up with me."

"Hermione?"

Ron's face crumpled. "Y-y-yes."

Harry looked at his friend with concern. "Did she say why?"

"She said she just didn't love me anymore, and it was time for us to move on, whatever that means. She said it isn't Viktor Krum, either, but she's tired of me being jealous. She said I need to grow up."

Harry cursed Hermione fluently in his mind for not being as kind to Ron as he'd hoped she would be. "I'm sorry, Ron."

"Yeah," Ron agreed sadly. "Me, too." He sniffled a bit, then went on. "I always thought it would end up being you and Ginny, me and Hermione, and we'd all get married and our kids would play together and we'd have holidays together. . . ."

"That would be nice, Ron. I'd like that," Harry said quietly, touched by his friend's vision of a peaceful, happy future.

"I guess that won't happen now," Ron said miserably.

"Maybe not," Harry agreed gently. "Did she say anything else?"

"No. That was it."

Harry breathed a quiet sigh of relief. At least she'd kept him out of it.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you turn me into a whole collie? Not just the paw?"

Harry blinked, baffled by this strange request. "Why?"

"Sirius said he enjoyed being a dog. I thought maybe it would be nicer to be a dog than to be me for a while," Ron said with a shrug. "I'd do it myself, but you're better at human transfigurations than I am, and the way I'm feeling right now, I'd probably mess it up."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"OK, I'll have a go then. Finish your frog. You shouldn't have your mouth full when you change. And chocolate's not good for dogs, anyway."

Ron nodded and swallowed the rest of his sweet. He sat watching Harry expectantly, looking more like a man facing the gallows than a boy facing what could be an interesting experience.

Harry thought about the collies he'd seen, then pointed his wand at Ron and tapped him. Instantly, a large sable collie sat beside him, with sad eyes in its long-nosed face. "You feel better now?"

The dog whined a bit, then walked round and round in circles before it flopped down next to Harry, then put its head on Harry's leg. Harry scratched it behind the ears and stroked its long silky fur. "You make a handsome dog, Ron," Harry said, smiling. The dog looked up at him and gave him a small "woof" in return. They sat together like that for a long time. Finally, Harry said, "I'm getting cold - I don't have a thick fur coat like you do. Is it OK with you if I change you back so we can go to bed?" The dog looked at him, its eyes still miserable, but sat up and waited patiently for Harry to do whatever he was going to do. "Is that a yes?" The dog prodded Harry's wand hand with its nose. Soon Ron sat there, his shaggy red hair in his eyes, his face gloomy but resolute.

"I decided something," he told Harry.


"What?"

"I really like being a dog. It simplifies things. Makes you focus on what's important."

"And what's that?"

"Helping you kill Voldemort," Ron said seriously, using Voldemort's name without flinching or stammering for the first time in his life. "And going out with as many girls as I can while I'm young. Life's too short to give up on it just because one girl," his voice broke then and he stifled a sob, "decides she can do better."


"That's the spirit," Harry encouraged him. "Come on, it's cold down here."


* * * * *

"Ginny? I need to talk to you," Harry said when he saw her in the Common Room early the next morning.

"OK! How are you this morning?" she said cheerfully.

"Not so good," he replied, his face serious.


What could have happened? He's so tense, and his eyes are so sad, she thought sympathetically. "What's wrong, luv?"

"Come with me," he said, taking her hand and leading her out of the portrait hole. He led her into an unused classroom and sealed the door with a Colloportus spell.

"Why are you locking us in?" she asked, confused.

"I have to tell you something. . .bad. . .and I don't want to be interrupted. It will be hard enough to deal with without somebody bursting in here looking for a place to snog," he said grimly.

Her face fell. He couldn't be breaking up with her, could he? They'd been so happy together!

"Scourgify," Harry said, cleaning off a chair for her. "You'd better sit down."

"You're scaring me," she said, sitting down on the clean chair.

"Something awful happened yesterday and I don't know where to begin. . . ." He started pacing, running his hands through his hair, clenching and unclenching his fists.


"Start at the beginning," she said nervously. "That's usually best."

He looked at her, not wanting to hurt her, but knowing he needed to tell her. He sighed and said, "I did something really, really stupid. You have every right to be angry with me, but please, let me explain. I hope you'll understand why I did it, and that it didn't mean anything to me except to make me angry. I don't want it to hurt our relationship."

"I'm listening," she said cautiously.

Harry told her about his encounter with Hermione, leaving out nothing. He'd realized, after he'd calmed down enough to be able to think clearly, that Hermione and Ginny were best friends, and that Ginny herself might be in danger. He reasoned that, if Hermione was willing to be violent to him, she might hurt Ginny in order to "free" him so he'd be "available." There was also the danger of Hermione having a change of heart and confessing to Ginny. If Ginny heard the story from anyone but Harry, he was worried it would destroy the trust between them. He included his reasoning and worries in what he told her now. By the end of his recitation, Ginny's jaw had dropped and her face was white.

"How could you do such a thing?" she murmured, horrified.

"I thought. . .she said she needed help, and I agreed before knowing what she wanted. I will never, ever do that again. I promise," he said, his green eyes solemn, his face miserable as well as worried.

"And that's why she broke up with Ron, too, right?"

"Yes."

Ginny was quiet for a while, trying to absorb all he'd told her. "You said she scratched you?" she said, not quite believing such a thing was possible.

"Yeah, look," he said, turning around and pulling up his sweater. His back was covered in deep scratches that bore heavy scabs.


"Oh, Harry! Those are awful! Do they hurt? Did you go and see Madam Pomfrey?"

"No, I didn't see Madam Pomfrey, and yes, they do hurt. I was trying to keep this whole thing a secret, and then decided I had to tell you. I still don't want to tell Ron," he replied, pulling his sweater back down.

"Did you wash those wounds and treat them?" she asked urgently, her healer instincts taking over from her shock at his story.

"I showered. The soap stung them pretty badly, so I guess it killed the germs," he said off-handedly, trying to calm her worries. "I couldn't reach most of them well enough to put anything on them, and I didn't feel I could ask Ron for help. It was a job getting ready for bed without someone seeing my back - and sleeping isn't much fun either, with my back so torn up. My head and bum hurt, too." He stood thinking a moment. "Maybe the scratches are my punishment for being stupid. I probably deserve them," he said, flopping down into a chair, putting his elbows on his knees, and his head in his hands, the very picture of defeat.

Ginny's heart turned over. He had made a mistake, but nothing worth the injuries he'd suffered. "You should have some ointment on them so they won't get infected," she said, moving behind him and shoving his sweater up to examine the scratches again. "What's this?" she said, gently touching a bump on his back at the end of one of the scratches.

"Ouch! I dunno what it is. What's it look like?"

"I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to hurt you." She studied the bump a bit longer. "It's scabby like the scratches, but kind of pointed and there's a little swelling around it. I think somebody should look at this, Harry."

"No. If you'll just put some essence of murtlap on the scratches, I'll be fine. That ointment healed my cuts last year when Umbridge was making me use that foul black quill for lines." His heart constricted at the memory - it was Hermione who'd come up with a treatment to ease the pain in his hand. She'd been such a good friend for so long. What happened?

Ginny nodded uncertainly. "OK, I'll do it, but I really think. . ."

"NO! I have spent far too much time in hospital this year as it is!" Harry snapped. Instantly chagrined, he turned around and pulled Ginny into a tight embrace. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to yell at you. I've been going crazy with all this stuff and I guess that was the last straw. Forgive me?"

Ginny pulled back from the embrace to look him in the face and saw his eyes were big and sad, and there was tremendous tension in his jaw. "Of course I forgive you. And I think part of the reason you got cross with me was that you know you should see the nurse."

"Yeah, probably," he admitted reluctantly. "So. . .are we OK? With all this stuff? Can you forgive me?"

"I can't believe you snogged Hermione, but I also can't believe she asked you to, and then attacked you as she obviously did. But knowing the way your mind works, you probably did rationalize it as helping out a friend rather than cheating on your girlfriend."

"I did worry about how you'd take it, but she's my best . . .she was my best friend and has done so much for me. I just thought. . .well, I made a mistake. I promise not to promise things before I know what I'm promising ever, ever again. I promise! And the only girl I want to snog is you. I'm so sorry I hurt you. I never wanted to do that."

"I'll be OK. Thanks for being honest with me. Let's get your back treated and then we'll see about that snog," she said with a smile, pulling him down to kiss him quite thoroughly before pushing him toward the door so she could put ointment on his back.

* * * * *

Over the next several days, Ron did his best to be cheerful and to flirt with other girls, but it was obvious to everyone his heart wasn't in it. He spent a lot of time hanging around with Harry and Ginny. The boys also had to deal with doing homework without Hermione's help, which was never easy for them. Hermione tried many times to talk to Ron or Harry, but both of them kept their distance from her, leaving her standing sad and alone every time. Ginny didn't know what to do. Hermione was her best girlfriend, but she didn't know that Ginny knew about what had happened between her and Harry, nor was she offering to talk about it. It was a difficult situation in every direction.

Just over a week into the cold spell between the four friends, Harry and Ron were in the library, struggling valiantly to do their homework without Hermione's help. Wads of crumpled up parchment littered the area around their feet, as well as the table on which they were working.

"Where did you put that note about the wolfsbane?" Ron asked, scratching his head in confusion. "I can't find it and can't remember what those properties were in conjunction with foxglove."

"I think that was ragwort, not foxglove," Harry said mildly, rummaging around in the various stacks of parchment on the desk. "It doesn't seem to be in this lot. Maybe we trashed it by mistake." He and Ron started unwadding gnarled bits of parchment on the table.

"I'm not having any luck here. You finish this lot, I'll look on the floor," Harry said, diving under the table. There were so many twists of discarded parchment under there, he finally gave up on bending down from his chair and just sat cross-legged under the table, opening and flattening crumpled parchment after crumpled parchment, looking for their misplaced notes. Ron shifted his feet restlessly, bumping Harry's knee in the process. Harry stared at Ron's big feet - he still hadn't grown up to them - then sat up so fast, he cracked his head on the table. When he stopped seeing stars from the bump on his head, he scrambled out from under the table, his face alight with excitement despite the painful bump on his head.

"You all right, Harry? That was quite a bang. Did you hit your head?" Ron asked in concern.

"I've just remembered my dad," Harry said in awe, still rubbing his bump.

"What?" Ron was baffled.

"I've just remembered my dad! Where's Remus? He was in here a while ago," Harry said distractedly, looking around the library for his godfather. "Be right back," he said, and raced down one stack of books after another, looking for Remus.


"Mr. Potter, please," said Madam Pince, her face drawn into a frown of disapproval. "No running in the library."

"Sorry," he said breathlessly, obviously still in a tearing hurry and not at all repentant. "Have you seen Professor Lupin?"

"He just left," she replied, and Harry took off at a dead run out of the door, leaving a tutting librarian behind him.

"Remus! Remus!" he cried, seeing his godfather far down the corridor ahead of him.

Remus turned around and smiled. His godson seemed to be very happy for some reason. "What's up?"

"Did my dad twist up parchment and throw it on the floor? Did he have a desk or table where he worked at home? Was there a black cat?" the boy asked in a rush.

"Yes, to all of the above," Remus said with a chuckle, enjoying the memories Harry had just evoked. "Why?"

"I've just remembered my dad!" he exulted. "The only memory I've ever had of him was the one I had when the Dementors were around, where I heard him telling Mum to take me and run. I just had a real memory of him!"

Remus grinned in delight. "Tell me about it. What did you remember? What triggered it?"

"Ron and I were chucking parchment everywhere - we're having a hard time doing homework without Hermione," Harry admitted with a shrug. "We lost a note and couldn't find it on top of the table, so I sat under the table untwisting parchment scraps and Ron bumped me with his foot. Something about sitting there under the table, Ron bumping me with his foot, and digging through the bits of parchment made me remember." He took a deep breath, his face alight with joy. "I was so little, my dad's feet must have looked huge to me, like Ron's. I was under Dad's desk or table, playing with the twists of parchment. A black cat came under there with me and I remember it pushing the twists around with its paw. When Dad bumped me with his foot, I guess he realized I was there." He paused, savouring the memory, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "He bent down and picked me up and tossed me in the air, the way people do with babies, you know?" Remus nodded. "And then he hugged me. I remembered all that. Cracked my head a good one trying to get out from under the table to find you, to see if it was true or not." Harry hesitated for a few moments, a joyful smile on his face, his eyes distant as he re-ran the memory through his mind several times. He blinked then, as if just realizing Remus was still there. "It's true then? A real memory?"

Remus grinned and said, "An absolutely true memory, Harry. James was famous for making piles of discarded parchment while he worked out ideas for various things, and he usually twisted them up and threw them down when he was frustrated. I've noticed you doing the same thing, but hadn't thought to comment on it. I'm sorry."

"No, no, don't be sorry! If you'd said something, maybe I wouldn't have remembered an actual memory. Maybe I would've thought you'd suggested the memory when you told me about it." Harry was still so excited, he was bouncing on his toes. "I remembered," he said in an awe-struck voice. "I remembered."

"Yes, you did," Remus said, grinning delightedly.

Harry grabbed his godfather and gave him a huge hug. "Thanks, Remus. Thanks for that. Thanks for being here so I could ask you right away. Thanks for coming to the library this morning so I saw you!" he said, laughing.

"I'm glad I was able to help," he replied, laughing along with his godson for a moment, "and I can't tell you how happy I am to be teaching here again, to be able to see you every day and watch you grow up. I'm so proud of you. Your parents would be proud of you, too." He patted the boy on the back before releasing him, and noticed Harry flinch at the touch. "Are you all right?"

"Fine. I just banged myself under the table," the boy said dismissively. "I'll probably have a good bruise later. Nothing to worry about."

Remus nodded. "Do you and Ron need my help on your homework?"

"Thanks, I really appreciate the offer, but we're nearly there. We're not completely useless without Hermione, but we're nowhere near as organized as she is. Makes it harder to find what we want when we need it," Harry replied, shrugging.

"Have you or Ron made any efforts to make up with her?" Remus asked carefully.

"No," Harry said with finality. "And it won't be coming from me."

"Should I ask why not, or what happened, or just leave it alone?" Remus asked, his head tilted as he studied his godson's suddenly hard face.

"Just leave it alone."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to spoil your good mood," Remus said, regretting he'd mentioned the strained relationship with Hermione at all.

"Don't worry about it. We'll have to manage without her once we're out of Hogwarts anyway," Harry said reasonably. "May as well get used to it now."

"Yes, I suppose."

"What was my dad working on? What did he do, other than work for the Order?" Harry asked, suddenly realizing he'd never once asked this question of anyone.

"He came from a wealthy family, as you probably worked out once you saw your bank vault. He had a lot of investments to manage, and he also did a great deal of research in combating the Dark Arts and in Transfiguration. I told you you're more like him than you know. You are. Those are your best subjects, and they fascinated your dad, as well.

"What was he researching?"

"Trying to work out how to change into more than one Animagus form, for one thing," Remus said with a smile. "He'd be delighted at your progress there. He was also looking for ways to fight Voldemort, trying to develop counter-spells for several of the worst hexes and spells, including the Killing Curse. He never told me, but it's possible his research is part of the reason you survived. He put enchantments on you, which I'm certain are still there. But all his research was lost when the Godric's Hollow house was destroyed after Voldemort killed your parents."

"He put enchantments on me? Why? Do you know what they were?"

"No, I'm sorry, lad, I honestly don't know what they were. But he was worried about you long before you were born. He wanted to make sure you were as safe as possible, especially with Voldemort being so active then. I wish I knew more, but he was getting very secretive toward the end. He was trying to protect you and your mother."

"I understand," Harry said with a grimace. "It would be nice to know what enchantments he'd put on me, though. You don't suppose Professor Dumbledore knows, do you?"

"You could ask him, but I think James kept that information entirely to himself. You may never find out what he did to protect you."

"Did he put these enchantments on anyone else? My mother, perhaps?"

"Possibly. But the Killing Curse can't be fought - nobody's ever survived it except you, and nobody is quite sure why you survived."

"Dumbledore says it was my mother's love that saved me," Harry said quietly.

"He's probably right." Remus put an arm around his godson's shoulders and gave him a squeeze. "What a wonderful thing has happened to you today, though, Harry. Do you know most people can't remember anything before they were two or three? You were only fourteen months old when they died. That memory is probably from before your first birthday, since James didn't do a lot of research those last few months, as far as I know. He was busy on Order business then. That memory of yours is a rare treasure."

The boy beamed. "Yeah. I'll remember it forever." He glanced at his watch and said, "Oh, no, I'd better get back to Ron. We only have half an hour left to finish that essay. Thanks, Remus! See you!" With that, he took off running.


"See you later, Harry!" Remus called as his godson raced down the corridor toward the library. He was rewarded with a wave and laughed out loud to see Harry jump up to try to touch the beams above the corridor in a burst of youthful exuberance.