Journey's End

Journeys End

The town of San Cristoval twinkled below her in the clear Nevada night. Kitty Pryde was its sheriff, chief protector and, as Shadowcat, leader of the local X-Force. Just now, she wanted to be anywhere but here! She sat on the porch swing, freshly showered and wearing a sweat suit against the chill, sipping a bourbon and letting her mind drift.

San Cristoval was one of six Mutant-only communities that existed and thrived in remote areas of the United States. The deal was simple; as long as the Mutants lived in their own towns and kept their heads down, the government could protect them from the fear and hatred of ordinary people. Their towns were productive; people worked, paid their taxes, and lived in the normal way. It was an elegant solution to what some insisted on calling the Mutant Problem.

Kitty was one of the few Mutants who knew where this idea had originated. Ten years ago, as a student at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, she had been involved in a unique exchange scheme. Three of her Mutant friends had been sent to an ancient castle in Scotland where young witches and wizards learned their skills. At the same time, three young English Wizards had come to Xavier's. Those few months still remained one of the happiest times in Kitty's life; one of the young Wizards, a lonely, sensitive boy named Harry Potter, had become her first real love. He was still a beloved friend.

Few Mutants, and even fewer normal humans, knew that a hidden society of wizards lived parallel to, but separate from, the everyday world. Professor Charles Xavier, who ran the School, had wanted to find out how this subterfuge was managed. Learning that there were entire magical communities, Xavier theorized that it would be possible to create similar conditions for Mutants, and so the concept of towns like San Cristoval was born.

The idea grew. Many thousands of Mutants were now free to live their lives without fear. Xavier continued running his school in upper New York State, and his X-Men-trained Mutant fighters-were now officially licensed by the government to hunt down outlaw Mutants. Kitty herself, as Ariel and later as Shadowcat, had been an X-Man, once.

Kitty sighed. Ancient history, she thought, but still relevant given the day's events. Early that morning, the remote alarm systems had alerted the inhabitants of San Cristoval to an attack. The Mutant terrorist Mystique, enraged by what she saw as the surrender of Mutantkind symbolised by towns like this one, had brought her band of rogue Mutants known as the Brotherhood to destroy San Cristoval. Shadowcat had mobilised her X-Force and told the town's resident telepath, Sage, to broadcast a warning to all other Mutant communities.

It had been a confused and nasty fight out in the desert. Shadowcat and her people had been steadily driven back until, in the early afternoon, unexpected reinforcements arrived. Out of the desert's heat-shimmer, the X-Men came storming onto the rear of Mystique's forces, and with them, two others; a tall man in black robes, and a petite, red-headed woman in green, both wielding magic wands to devastating effect. The man was Harry Potter; the woman, his former lover, Ginny Weasley.

It seemed that Sage's message had reached Emma Frost in London. Frost, formerly the White Queen of the Hellfire Club, had long ago thrown in her lot with Xavier, and now ran an Academy for Special Children (mostly Mutants) near London. Among her staff were Marie and Bob Drake, also known as Iceman and Rogue, who had been two of the students involved in the original exchange programme.

Independently, Harry and Ginny had been visiting the Academy when the call came through. The two Wizards had Apparated to Xavier's, then created a Portkey to San Cristoval in order to bring themselves and the X-Men to the rescue. By the end of the afternoon, Mystique's forces had fled.

Kitty took another sip of her drink and smiled to herself. It had been so good to see Harry again, fighting alongside the X-Men, as he had done all those years ago! But she had been too busy in the aftermath, and then too tired, to spend much time with him. He and Ginny booked rooms in the town's only motel. Kitty had promised to meet Harry there for breakfast tomorrow.

Maybe she could persuade him to stay a while? Kitty had been missing Harry more and more lately. Anyway, she could use his advice about whether to remain in San Cristoval or to take up Emma's offer of a teaching post at the Academy. Charles had made a similar offer, but she couldn't go back to Xavier's with Peter there. Her relationship with Peter Rasputin-Colossus-had ended in bitterness and anger two years ago. There had been no one important in her life since then.

Kitty?

She started, almost spilling her drink. The voice had been inside her head, and it was Harry's voice!

Harry?

Got you! Be there in a minute!

Seconds later, he came round the corner and made for her house, walking with long strides. He always walks with long strides, she thought, trying not to notice the thrill that shot through her at the sight of him.

Harry stopped at the foot of the porch stairs and looked up at her. Her auburn hair was longer than he remembered. Pulled back into a thick ponytail, it emphasised the delicate bone structure of her face. Kitty's skin was flawless, and her lips as full and soft looking as they were in the dreams he still had about her. The clear hazel eyes he had loved to gaze into were fixed on him now, full of warmth and joyful welcome.

She had the poise and grace of a ballet dancer, even in the loose jogging clothes. Harry's breath caught, and he realised his heart was pounding in a way it hadn't done for years. He forced himself to speak lightly. "Hello, Kitty. You're still as lovely as ever!"

"And you're just as handsome! Hi, Harry. Come on up!"

He was a little taller than when she had first known him-an even six feet now-but just as wiry and lithe. His regular features were still framed by an uncontrollable mop of jet-black hair, and the green eyes remained as magnetic as ever. The only difference was his scar-the distinctive lightning-shaped mark on his forehead had begun to fade the day he overthrew his nemesis, the dark Wizard Lord Voldemort, and was completely gone now. Tonight, Harry had shed his black Aurors robe in favour of a sweatshirt and jeans.

Kitty got up to hug him, kissing him firmly on the cheek and holding him until he kissed her back-he was still shy about these things! They didn't sit, but stood at the porch rail looking over the town, side by side, shoulders touching lightly.

Kitty asked, "How did you find me?"

"The bracelet," Harry told her.

"But I just got out of the shower. I'm not wearing the bracelet."

"Oh, Hell! Must be this telepathy thing. I think when Emma and I had that little set-to years ago, it sort of woke it up. I've been getting these flashes on and off ever since."

"Don't worry about it. I'm glad you found me. It's good to see you, Harry."

"It's good to see you, too, love. We should have tried to get together more often."

Her heart skipped a beat when he called her love so naturally. She took a breath and carried on talking.

"Drink?" she asked him. "Afraid bourbon's all I've got."

"That'd be nice, thanks."

"Only water or ice to go with it."

"No water, but ice would be great."

"Make yourself at home, Harry. I'll be right back."

Kitty freshened her own drink and fixed one for Harry. She was surprised by how flustered she was feeling, and how strongly she felt the urge to keep checking out the window to make sure Harry was still there. When she came back out, he was sitting on the swing. He smiled up at her, and she had to sit beside him quickly, in case her knees gave way.

Harry accepted the proffered glass, and they silently toasted each other. Though he looked calm, he was struggling with conflicting feelings. Part of him felt as nervous as the schoolboy of ten years ago. Another part of him had not felt so right in over a year.

"So," Kitty asked him, "how are Hermione and Ron? And little Harry?"

"Hermione and Ron are as happy as can be, as much in love as ever. They'd have sent their love if they'd known I was coming, so I'll pass it on, anyway. My godson is a tyke! He's nearly three, and he gets into everything. Hermione's due with their second any day now. Neville and I have a bet on as to whether she has it before Marie has hers. Marie and Bob do send their love, by the way, and want to know when you're coming over."

He was talking as much for the sake of talking as anything, just in case his tongue betrayed him and let slip what he really wanted to say to her. She didn't seem to notice.

"I may be visiting them soon," Kitty replied. "It depends. How about you, Harry? I haven't seen you since you split up with Ginny, what, eighteen months ago? Are you OK?"

He shrugged. "You've had the letters; it's all there. Ginny and I are talking again at least." He gave a rueful grin. "Recently, I tried dating Cho Chang. It was nice, but the spark wasn't there."

"What happened between you and Ginny? I mean really?" Kitty wanted to know. "Your letters made it sound so civilised, but I thought at the time you were doing that to stop me from rushing over to England."

"Would you have done that?"

"I almost did anyway, Harry!" Oh shit! She hadn't meant to say that-she'd almost given herself away. Harry didn't seem to notice.

He went on in a quiet voice, "I don't understand it entirely. Ginny simply decided that I wasn't the one for her.

"Maybe things were never right between us. Who can tell anymore? We always saw life differently. You know when Hermione and Ron and I went off to be Aurors? I almost lost Ginny then. The Quidditch scouts were round, half-a-dozen of them tried to recruit Ron and me for various teams. We turned them down, of course. I mean, Voldemort was gone, but new trouble was brewing with the Knights of Walpurgis. I felt we needed to tackle these problems.

"Ginny was furious! We had a flaming row about it. She told me I'd done my duty by getting rid of Voldemort, and it was time to let somebody else set the world to rights. She said I was the best Seeker anyone had ever seen and how dare I throw away that talent to follow some thankless crusade? She wanted to know when I was going to start doing what I wanted to do rather than what I thought I should do?

"She joined a professional Quidditch team straight from school-best Chaser in the league, now-and we lived together at Godric's Hollow as happily as any couple could. Ginny didn't want to get married, and that didn't bother me at the time, though it upset Mum a bit."

Kitty knew that when Harry said "Mum", he meant Molly Weasley. He always referred to the late Lily Potter as "my mother".

He continued, saying, "Then Ron and Hermione got married after we'd all finished training. We wanted to be near each other, all four of us, so I gave them that big barn in the field near the house."

"I know, I remember that working holiday very well!"

Naturally, Hermione and Ron had invited their American friends over for the handfasting, and they had decided to make a holiday of it. They had, however, promptly been press-ganged into the conversion of a sturdy but rundown barn into a cosy home for the newlyweds. The combination of magic, Mutant powers and sheer hard work had been amazingly successful and a lot of fun!

Harry grinned at the memory. "Things went on OK until little Harry was born. I've always wanted a family of my own, though I'd been so busy the idea got pushed to the back of my mind. Being Harry's godfather brought it to the surface. I spoke to Ginny about children and she said, 'Children? Now?' I thought, fair enough, a pregnant Chaser wouldn't score too many goals.

"But Ginny really only has a few more years playing left. Most Seekers and Chasers quit in their mid-20s. They can't keep the pace up much longer, though Keepers and Beaters last longer. Ginny knows that, which is why she started writing for the Prophet and The Quibbler. She has her post-Quidditch career in journalism all set up.

"One day, about a year-and-a-half ago, I said, "OK, when do you want to start a family?" and she said, "I don't know. I'm just not convinced we're right for each other over the long term." I stared at her, utterly shocked. She must have seen how I felt from my face, because she burst into tears and flung her arms round me. She said she was sorry, but something just kept nagging at her. She couldn't put it into words.

"So, that was it. She went over that night to stay with Ron and Hermione, and moved to London a day or so later. Eight-and-a-half years down the bloody toilet!" Harry raged.

"I was angry, of course, but Mum wasn't having any of it. She said she'd already lost one kid...Did I tell you about Percy being killed in the final battle against Voldemort?" Kitty nodded. "...and she wasn't losing another! She and Ron--he'd seen it coming long before--ran themselves ragged to make sure we all stayed civilised."

Harry shook his head, and took a sip of his drink. "But that's enough about me. How have you been, Kitty? I mean I've had your letters, yet they don't tell the whole story. Are things any better between you and Peter?"

"I'm getting by, Harry. Getting by and that's about all. As for Peter, we're still not on speaking terms. He's gone back to the way he was, withdrawn and insecure."

"What actually happened? You wrote that he'd refused to have kids with you, but you wouldn't say why except that it was his business. He stopped writing to Ginny about then, so it's a bit of a mystery to me."

Kitty felt the tears threaten, but this was Harry. She couldn't and wouldn't keep anything from him. "Peter and I got together a few months after you and I parted. He made me feel safe; I gave him confidence; it worked. We were young and in love, and when we left Xavier's we were going to leave the whole Mutant world behind us and live like an ordinary, young couple.

"But the Mutant thing wouldn't leave us alone. We skipped all over the country, trying to stay ahead of the rumors, but they always caught up with us. In the end, we went back to Xavier's. By then, though, Xavier and Shaw had managed to broker a deal with the feds to set up these Mutant communities. Peter and I came here. It was just a few shacks and an abandoned silver mine then, but we built a town, all of us!

"Anyway, you know about this. We started to settle, talked marriage and kids, like that, when Peter got a call. His little sister, Illyana, was dying. It had started with leukemia, then the cancer got into her lymphatic system, her bones, all her organs. Peter went to be with his family, but made me stay here."

Harry knew that Peter's family hadn't approved of their son's city-bred lover. To them, her hips were too narrow for babies, her hands too soft for work and her mouth too clever for her own good!

Kitty went on. "Peter got the best doctors, but they told him...they told him that Illyana's mutation was lethal. Her own genes were killing her. Peter had to watch her die, and watch her death rip the guts out of his parents."

Swallowing hard, Kitty forced herself to tell the rest. "Peter couldn't handle it. Mutancy had made his life Hell and had killed his sister. He was convinced any kids we had would be Mutants so we shouldn't have any."

Harry put a reassuring arm around Kitty's shoulders. She nestled gratefully into him, saying, "At first, I thought he was just grieving, that he'd get over it, but he didn't change his mind. One night when we were talking about differences between Mutants and other humans he said, 'We're all monsters, Katya.' I asked if that meant me, too, and he nodded!

"I lost it then. I screamed at him to get out. If he thought I was a monster, why had he shared my bed all these years? He didn't answer; he just packed his bags and left.

"He went back to Xavier's. Charles reactivated his X-Man status. But it was over between us. That was two years ago. I've been alone ever since."

Kitty buried her face in Harry's shoulder and cried quietly for a while. He held her and said nothing. At last, she stirred and pulled away from him.

"I'm sorry, Harry! Excuse me a minute?"

"It's OK, love."

She got up, and started to go into the house, then swung around, gripped by a sudden fear. "Harry, you be here when I get back! You hear me?"

"I will."

She vanished into the house. A moment later, he heard water running somewhere inside. He got up and went to the porch rail to look out over the town. Despite the terrible sadness of the story he had just heard, his heart was singing. Kitty wanted him here with her!

Kitty came back out, again, and joined Harry at the rail. He felt he had to say something. "Look at this place, Kitty. It's amazing! You helped build it; you protect it; you have the love and respect of everyone who lives here. It's your town."

She shrugged. "I don't want it anymore, Harry. I want someone who loves me, not Shadowcat. I feel exactly as you did when you wanted someone to love Harry instead of the Boy Who Lived!"

Harry had to touch her; he couldn't resist her when she was this close. It'll be all right, he thought, just one friend comforting another. He put his hand over hers on the rail.

"You'll find someone, Kitty," Harry said softly.

Her hand turned quickly, gripping his, twining their fingers together as they used to do. Harry half-turned to face her, and she mirrored him. Their eyes met. Both of them finally acknowledged what was happening.

Then she was in his arms and his lips found hers and it was as if they had never been apart. After a deep, passionate, lingering kiss, they pulled back a little and gazed at each other. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Kitty knew him too well. She placed a gentle hand across his mouth. "Hush, my sweet. You always want to talk at the wrong time!"

She led him into the house, keeping a firm hold on him, in case he flew away, as so many of her dreams had done. She closed and locked her door, before leading him deeper into the sprawling, single-story building. At the threshold of her bedroom, he hesitated. He didn't want to take advantage of her loneliness, her vulnerability.

"Harry," she chided gently, "we're not kids any more." She pulled him into the room.

Afterwards, she lay in his arms and cried a little, out of pure happiness. Making love with Harry had been everything she had dreamed it could be, and so much more!

Then Harry made it complete for her. "I love you, Kitty," he whispered. "I don't think I ever really stopped loving you."

She raised herself on one elbow and looked down at him. "I still love you, Harry, but it's different now."

"I'll say!" He smiled wryly, his gesture taking in the scattered clothes, the disordered bed, and their naked, intertwined bodies.

"It's not that. I'd have slept with you back then, if only you'd asked me. I wanted to, but you never asked, and I couldn't ask you. I was scared you'd think I was a tramp."

"And I was scared to death that you'd expect me to know what to do," Harry laughed ruefully.

She smiled, resting her head on his chest. He smelled of aftershave, her skin cream, and sex. She could have lain there forever.

"Harry, we're different. You've grown from a boy into a man. Such a man! A hero! But I know, like Ron and Hermione and a few others, who you really are--and that man is even more special.

"It's so clear to me that all I want--all I've ever wanted--is you! I told you once that what we had wasn't forever, and that was true at the time, but now that we're adults, maybe we can have forever."

"Forever sounds right, Kitty. It sounds as right as anything I've heard in a long time."

Harry paused. If he had learned anything from Kitty, from Ron, even from Ginny, it was that sometimes, you had to follow your heart. And so he did. "I love you, Kitty Pryde. If you'll let me, I'll spend the rest of my life showing you just how much I love you."

"Then take me home with you, Harry." Kitty looked directly into his eyes so he could see the truth of her, the depth of her feelings. "Nights in the desert are cold and lonely. I want a roaring fire in the old hearth at Godric's Hollow. I want to lie on that big, overstuffed couch with my head in your lap and watch children-our children-play on the hearthrug." Kitty exhaled heavily, then winked. "But tonight, Harry Potter, I want something else..."

She slid her body on top of his, thinking she might never get enough of the feel of his skin against hers. As the warmth grew between them, she felt him stirring.

"Harry, do you remember what I said that first night we kissed?"

"You said that I'd made you wait a week, and I wasn't getting away with just one kiss," he murmured.

"Well, you've made me wait ten years for this!" And she smiled with pure bliss at the emerald fires that blazed up in his eyes as his strong arms came round her.

***

Across town, in a tumbled bed in a motel room, Peter and Ginny lay in each other's arms.

Peter had never expected this. He had tried to avoid facing Ginny. He had been about to order room service, when pounding on his door surprised him.

The fiery young woman knew him too well to allow him a choice; she simply told him that their table in the dining room downstairs was reserved and was he coming? He had never been able to refuse her, and she knew it.

They ate and talked, then they went for a drink and talked some more. Ginny didn't seem to have aged a day. Though she was older, the sharp Weasley features had softened in her to an elfin beauty, and her hair was as thick and long and as glorious a red as ever. She was still tiny compared to him, but quick and strong, and her dark eyes studied him with all their remembered luminosity and directness.

To Ginny, Peter seemed noticeably older. His rugged face had lines on it, some sad, some a little bitter. But he was still huge, still strong, still athletic. Under the shyness that she thought she had cured, there was still the warm, gentle person she had come to care for all those years ago. With her, he could be that person, again.

Ginny had wanted to know why he had stopped writing. Haltingly at first, then more fluently, he told her about his life-shaping decision, his refusal to run the risk of fathering another creature like himself or a fatally flawed being like Illyana. He told her how that decision had destroyed his and Kitty's life together--how he had gone back to being alone, unable to summon the courage to get close to another person.

In return, Ginny told Peter she'd left Harry because they'd drifted apart. She spoke with quiet resignation of the way in which a love that had once consumed both of them had simply disappeared. Then Peter and Ginny finished their drinks, and went without a word to Ginny's room. Once there, they fell hungrily into each other's arms, making passionate love.

Ginny lay against Peter, lost in wonder. For the second time in her life, this man had opened her eyes to something inside her she had not known existed. Harry had been a thoughtful lover, but he had never raised her to the heights she had just reached with Peter. In a moment of clarity, she realised why. Subtle, complex Harry had a darker side to his nature - it showed itself in his ice-cold command style and ruthlessness in battle. That part of him frightened Ginny, so she had always held something of herself back when she was with him. Peter was like her, though; who he was, all that he was, was there to be seen. Ginny had been able to give herself completely to him, without fear or reservation, just as he had given himself totally to her.

Regret was usually not a part of Ginny's nature, but she regretted for a moment the fate that had made her too young to love Peter physically when they had first met. She would never have lost the intervening years, had she known what was possible.

Now, though, she was sure of one thing; it was something she had never really been sure of with Harry. She loved Peter unconditionally. This time, she was not going to let him go!

Peter felt alive again, for the first time in two years. This small, sensuous creature, so open and utterly uninhibited, had burst through the ice that had encased him since Kitty had pitched him out. Unlike Kitty, with Ginny he always knew where he stood, what she wanted and how she felt. Her directness spoke to his simple nature in a way that the sophisticated, clever Kitty had not.

Peter loved Ginny. Quite possibly he always had, deep in his heart. He didn't want to lose her. When she finally spoke, her words were the strangest and sweetest he had ever heard. "Peter, d'you think Charles would let me become an X-Man?"

"Why would you want to be one, babe?"

Babe! Peter had always called her that; no one else had ever dared. Ginny loved it. She wanted to hear him call her that every day. She said, "I was angry with Harry when he chose to be an Auror. I thought our time had come to do what we enjoyed, to leave duty behind. I had Quidditch, I had Harry - or as much of him as he let me have - and I thought that was all I wanted.

"But now it's time to give something back. I couldn't become an Auror; it would be too awkward having to work with Harry. As an X-Man, I could do something worthwhile--and you know I can fight!"

Peter was close to tears, but managed to hold it together. He said, "You are an X-Man, Ginny. Your codename, Firebird, is right there on the reserve roster along with Charm, Hawk and Hunter. It was put there after the Labyrinth business. You can be activated any time you want. In fact, if I know Charles, he probably activated you and Hawk while you were getting ready to come here today!

"But are you sure, babe? Sure you want to be with me?" he repeated.

"I love you, Piotr Nicolayevitch, and you are not getting away from me this time! I'm going back to Xavier's with you."

They kissed then, with all the tenderness and passion of those who have finally found their heart's desire. When they parted, Ginny's eyes were alight with mischief. "So, I'm an X-Man, am I? I hope Scott won't mind when I take over as team leader."

Peter said nothing, but his strong fingers found a well-remembered ticklish spot. Ginny yelped and slapped his chest. "Oy! Watch it, you!"

"Then don't be such a smarty-pants!"

"Peter, I'm not wearing any pants," Ginny pointed out.

"I noticed that." His fingers traced sensuous patterns along her spine. Ginny squirmed deliciously against him.

There was no more talk, just heady murmurs and breathless sighs, until she called out his name into the night and they fell, utterly spent, into a peaceful sleep.

Journeys end in lovers meeting.

-- Twelfth Night, William Shakespeare