A Long Way from Home

Chapter III

July 28, 2003

Hermione was ensconced in darkness. There was a loud, demonic cackle somewhere to her left and she was vaguely aware of pounding footsteps coming closer and closer to her. She did not have her wand, so she began running in the opposite direction. Her fingers sought the wall next to her: it was hard and cold against her hand and the rough stone was tearing the skin away from her fingertips. She urged her legs to move faster as the cackling laughter was joined by terrifying screaming. Abruptly, the hallway she was moving through turned a corner and her shoulder smashed against the wall as she followed it.. There was a flash of red light and she saw a snake-like face loom up in front of her. Screaming, she turned and ran back the way she had come.

Another corner, another flash of light. This time, Harry was writhing in pain on the ground. There was a hooded figure looming over him and Harry turned his head up to look at her. His green eyes were electric looking and he mouthed one word to her, “Run!”

She obeyed, pushing further into the stone labyrinth. Finally, she saw a glow of green light ahead of her and she moved towards it, slowing to a walk as the laughing and screaming died down. There was a body on the floor, its limbs all akimbo. She shuffled over silently, as she had lost the cover of darkness upon entering this room. That same green light bathed the entire space and she felt her skin prickle. Bending down she took in the lifeless body, one whose face and eyes she had known all her life, and which bore a striking resemblance to her own. The scientific thoughts of inspection left her mind quickly. She screamed and screamed, the noise echoing in the stone chamber and in her own ears, as a flash of green light brightened everything around her.

***

Hermione was barely able to muffle her cry as she jolted awake. That particular nightmare was old and almost as familiar as her skin. She knew it well, having had dreamt it countless times over the last five years. She had evaluated it scientifically. She had written it down, judged every second of it. Two years ago, she had gone so far as to consult a dream divination therapist about it. The woman had merely looked horrified, offering no advice, and the experience had only further cemented in Hermione’s mind that the whole of divination was merely crackpot theories and scare tactics.

Shuddering, Hermione left her mind travel along the scientific breakdown of her dream. She was freezing cold and hugged her arms around herself to stop the shivering. Scientific breakdown aside, the dream was haunting and too familiar for her comfort. She felt tears come to her eyes after a few moments as she wondered if she would see her father, dead like that on the floor for the rest of her life. The dream’s stone corridors were reminiscent of the stone castle of a Death Eater, where Hermione and Ron had fought along side Harry to destroy Lucius Malfoy. It had been earlier that same night that Hermione had found her father, dead, in the kitchen of her parents’ house in London. Her mother had been blessedly absent when Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange broke into the house and tortured and killed her father. Fresh, hot tears sprang to Hermione’s eyes as she further reflected on that night. Anger had overridden sadness and she had accompanied Ron and Harry to the castle. They had met with Bellatrix Lestrange and two other Death Eaters. Hermione and Harry stunned and bound the other two as Bellatrix seemed to focus her energy on Ron. He had kept his spells fairly simple, stunners and light hexes, but she had admitted to him as they fought that she had killed Percy Weasley. Ron had cursed her violently and her body had been thrown back against a wall, cracking her skull and killing her. He had fallen right after his spell had hit her, having sustained several nasty hexes in their duel. After helping Ron Apparate to safety, Harry and Hermione had pressed forward to find Lucius Malfoy.

Hermione had been taken down by another Death Eater in the castle. She had blacked out, but McGonagall told her later that Harry had taken care of the Death Eater, and finally, had destroyed Malfoy. It was one of her biggest regrets: she had never faced down the man who had killed her father.

Deep, shuddering sobs ripped through her chest and she fought to keep quiet so as not to wake up Harry. The whole thing had been her third nightmare this week, but prior to that, she hadn’t had any for six months. The memories it brought to her mind were as fresh as if they had happened only yesterday. Curling in on herself as she laid down once more, Hermione willed the tears to stop and finally, fell once more into a fitful sleep.

*** The morning dawned bright and warm. Hermione had eventually gotten out of bed to take a light sleeping potion that she kept stocked for such occasions and had rested well into late morning. Harry was moving around in the cottage, she could hear his footsteps and the sound of pans moving against each other. Guessing that perhaps he had slept late as well, she pulled herself out of bed and went into the hall bath. She turned the shower on and then stood looking at her face in the mirror.

There were circles under her eyes, but they weren’t as bad as she thought they might be. Sighing, Hermione began the long ritual of dental hygiene she had developed as a young girl before finally getting under the hot spray.

The nightmare would not leave her mind. She saw Harry in pain again and the image of her father was burned into her eyelids. A salty tear ran slowly down her cheek, mingling with the water from the showerhead. Hermione refused to indulge another cry. She wiped the tear away angrily and reached to turn the water temperature higher. Gasping as the hot water temporarily scorched her skin, she took up her bar of soap and began washing the nightmare away.

***

“Morning, Harry,” Hermione called, trying to keep her voice bright. The long, hot shower had settled her nerves considerably and the smell of bacon and sausages lifted her spirits even further.

“Good morning.” Harry’s head appeared around the corner of the kitchen. His smile instantly faded away and he looked at her seriously. “Are you ok?”

Hermione was momentarily stunned that he’d seen what she’d tried so hard to wash away. She shook it off and smiled at him, waving her hand as if to brush his comment off. “Bad dream, but I’m fine now. Don’t worry about it.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked as she walked into the kitchen.

Shaking her head, Hermione looked into the pots and pans, she grinned. “You made a full breakfast! Oh, Harry, I haven’t had a full breakfast since Hogwarts.”

Harry blushed. “I was famished for some reason this morning, so I used that owl delivery service from town. Everything arrived a bit ago.”

“I love that here. I can’t stand going to the market... Oh! Tomatoes, mushrooms, beans, you really made everything. My mum always hated beans but my dad and I could both live on beans on toast.”

Harry laughed. “I used to have to make this all time when I was a kid. Dudley always ate all of the bacon and sausage, but he didn’t like beans either.”

Hermione began to set the table as Harry talked about meeting Rupert Kingsley the day before. “He rode in the broom race in Sweden sixty years ago, you know.” “Oh, I’ve heard that story at least a dozen times. The threat of Grindelwald was over everyone, and it was considered heroic that year to even brave the distance, not to mention that there was quite the nasty snowstorm. ‘Course, I don’t care anything about flying, so hearing it just the once would have been enough.”

“Bullocks,” Harry said, laughing, “I could listen to him talk about flying all day.”

Hermione carried the last of the breakfast dishes to the table, practically drooling over the sheer amount of food. She had grown to love cooking, but usually only ever made food for herself. The last week had seen her adjusting to having someone else in the house and whenever Harry complimented her cooking, she found herself feeling absurdly pleased.

“So what have you got planned for today?” Harry asked, once they had both managed to fill their plates.

Hermione swallowed a bite of the heavenly sausage before she answered. “I’ve got research to do today. I’ve spent entirely too much time over the last few days letting you distract me,” she teased.

Harry looked hurt. “Surely, a bunch of books isn’t better than your very best friend in the whole world?”

“Well, there’s this particularly interesting theory I’m working on at the moment…” Harry threw a bit of toast at her as he laughed.

“That’s alright, I suppose. I’ve got my own research to do if you wouldn’t mind me looking through your books?”

Hermione gasped mockingly. “Surely not! Harry Potter has never willingly researched anything in his life.”

He replied with his own smart remark and Hermione merely laughed at him before taking another mouthful of fried eggs. She had come to enjoy the easy humor that they managed; the first few days had been awkward. Even after the fun they’d had at Ron’s wedding, both were unsure of how to act one-on-one, in daily life. Hermione had been slightly aggravated at having someone around, disturbing her routine, and she was bothered by the memories his nearness evoked. There had been the nightmares and frequent flashbacks of the events leading up to that final night against Malfoy and Bellatrix. She had left for Scotland only three days later. After the initial month or so of contact that the trio had kept up, they had lost touch with each other. There were Christmas cards and gifts every year, birthday presents and notes to the Weasley family, but Hermione had mostly kept to herself.

Finally, when Hermione thought she was probably going to have to ask Harry to leave, just from the shear nervousness she felt at having him around, he had brought home food and a couple bottles of wine, promising to make her a thank-you dinner for having put up with him for a whole week. The homemade pasta sauce had been utterly divine and the soft garlic bread had reminded her of food from Hogwarts. Harry had gone clear to London for the wine, and she appreciated that he’d gone so far just for her. She’d had far more than was wise, however, and they had ended up playing Exploding Snap. It was like being thirteen again, and Hermione was finally happy to have him in her home. Since that night, laughter had been easier and they had talked about a great deal. They explored the village and the outlying countryside. One of the older witches had told them old ghost stories about the castle ruins a few miles away and they told a few of their own stories from the Hogwarts ghosts.

“I’m full,” Harry announced. He had pushed his plate back and was looking at her thoughtfully.

“I am too, Harry. Merlin, that was so good though. Thank you for making me breakfast.”

“It’s nothing. I felt like I hadn’t had a proper meal in ages before I came here. It’s just good to have someone to enjoy it with.”

“Indeed. Are you ready to work then? We’ve got a later start than I’d like.” This was an understatement. Hermione usually rose at 6a.m. to begin her day, but they hadn’t even started breakfast until after 10:30.

In response, Harry flicked his wand to start the dishes cleaning themselves and followed her into the living room. It was easily her favorite part of the cottage. Three of its walls were filled floor to ceiling with books and the furniture was all grouped in the middle. There was no television, but the fourth wall held doors to the kitchen and back hall and a large worktable, which had been moved out of the spare room to make room for Harry. There were books stacked around in corners and over the surface of her desk. Stacks and rolls of parchments covered the available workspace. Here and there, white plaster walls peaked behind the bookcases and underfoot, there were aged pine floors and lots of throw rugs scattered around.

“Is there something you need my help with?” Hermione asked.

“If you could point me in the general direction of your magical theory books, I’ll –“

“Well, actually, they’re almost all magical theory books. The books on the window wall cover just about everything from magical history to current Muggle studies curriculum. Um, over there, is all light magical theory and the wall behind you is entirely dark magic.”

“Entirely?”

“It’s half our history. And half the battle. You ought to know better than anyone that you can’t accomplish anything in this fight without understanding the other side.” She herself knew this all too well, as did Harry and Ron. They had studied dark magic their seventh year, not just how to defend against it, but how to use it, for only then could they defeat it.

Harry just nodded and moved towards that wall. Once she felt that he would find whatever it was he needed, she settled into her desk and began looking through all the rolls of parchment.

***

As if on cue, there was a loud clap of thunder. Harry, Hermione and Ron had just landed in a graveyard, but it was not the same graveyard that Voldemort had been resurrected in almost three years prior. A Portkey had brought them to this place, after the Death Eaters had attacked Hogwarts, and it was the last place they all expected to be. Hermione could see the gravestone that marked where Harry’s parents had been buried. It was less than ten feet away.

Before the trio could even get their bearings, rain began to pour down from the sky, obscuring their vision. A loud cracking noise and the smell of burning wood pulled their attention to the scene behind them. Lightening had struck not fifty feet from where they stood and Hermione could still feel an electric charge in their air. Beyond the tree that had fallen stood a group of hooded figures that seemed to have no knowledge of their arrival. Hermione felt the back of her neck begin to tingle and she felt goose bumps spring up on her arms. They had prepared for this all year long, but she was still terrified.

Ron had grasped her hand tightly as they moved between tombstones to find a better hiding space. From their new vantage point, they were able to discern the number of hooded figures: seven in all. Hermione figured that one of them had to be Voldemort, as he had not showed up at the castle with the other Death Eaters. Professor Snape had slipped the Portkey to Harry, warning him that all three of them needed to use it, and that it would activate just before midnight. He had not told them where it would take them or what would happen, but it was a testament to how much he helped them over the past year that they used it.

“I believe that we are once again given the dubious honor of having guests at our proceedings,” a loud voice rang out through the graveyard. Hermione was positive in that moment that it was the voice of death.

There was a rushing, swirling wind and Harry, Hermione and Ron found themselves dumped unceremoniously at the feet of the seven cloaked figures. Scrambling to get up, they moved several feet back from the group, wands at the ready.

“Why, Harry, I see you’ve bought friends. There are ten of us here, now, far too many for what I plan to do on this night.”

“Yes,” Harry had agreed, boldly. “By my reckoning, there are seven extra.”

Hermione was too terrified to speak, even if there had been anything she had wanted to say. Witty bantering with devil-incarnates was admittedly not her specialty. Ron had moved away from her so that they now flanked Harry. She tightened her grip on her wand, trying to settle herself down and remember their purpose. Her mind careened from thought to thought, spell to spell, as everything she’d studied over the past year seemed to flee her mind.

There was more evil cackling and Hermione watched as Voldemort rose into the air, high over the heads of his Death Eaters. There was a flash of light and Hermione felt pain rip through her entire body. It was her whole being – she had never known anything before or since. Her world turned black and she felt as if she was spinning wildly. Someone was screaming her name, she’d been here before. This pain, this not knowing, she did know what this was. She knew how to escape this. A guttural scream escaped her throat, not one of terror or of pain, but of anger and righteousness.

Shaking her head, the pain left her body. Ron and Harry were still on their knees, unearthly screams escaping their mouths. Gripping her wand, she muttered a spell that Snape had taught her shortly after Christmas. It was a dark spell, to be sure, but she didn’t care at that moment. A flash of red light ripped from the tip of her wand and exploded in a ball of light around Voldemort. He was thrown to the ground like a rag doll and Harry and Ron immediately stopped writhing around. In an instant, they were at her side again and with a look saying they understood that it was now or never.

It fell to her to begin. The words were Greek, pre-dating the magic of Rome. She found quickly that forgetting the words was as impossible as forgetting her own name. She spoke her memorized incantation, focusing her magical power as she never had before. Ron followed and then Harry. A bright burst of light issued forth, not from her wand, but from her heart. Head thrown back, Hermione sighed deeply as warmth seeped through her body, overtaking pain and fear. The shouts of the Death Eaters were drowned out as Harry and Voldemort were caged in the light that she saw was also coming from Ron.

Harry’s wand was a glittering gold color and Hermione saw that he was wielding it like a sword. Voldemort’s wand, which he had trained directly at Harry’s chest, was shiny, metallic black, visible only because of all the light surrounding them. It was Harry that struck first, stabbing at Voldemort’s torso.

Voldemort whipped his wand at Harry and a ghastly looking metallic light shot from it. There was a roar and Hermione vaguely felt the ground beneath her feet shaking. The metallic light struck Harry, but was repelled, shooting out from him and smashing against a tombstone. Harry took Voldemort’s surprise as his opportunity, lunging forward and running Voldemort through with his golden wand.

There was a shriek and Hermione felt the power coursing through her begin to stutter and shake. She cried out, and heard Ron do the same. Harry was unable to let his wand go and stood watching as Voldemort screamed and shuttered. Holding on for dear life, Harry twisted his wand once and wrenched it out of Voldemort’s chest. The same light that surrounded them burst out of the wound and the ground around them shook even more fiercely. Hermione felt the wind whipping through her hair and watched as a bolt of golden lightening struck the Dark Lord. There was a smell of burning flesh and Hermione knew then that they had succeeded.

In a fury, the other Death Eaters had attacked them. All of the light had vanished suddenly and there was only moonlight to see by. She had fought then for her life, striking blow after magical blow against the other six Death Eaters. They had fallen fast.

***

“Hermione?” A hand touched her shoulder gently.

She shook herself out of her memories. Somewhere in the course of reading, for the umpteenth time, about the witch burnings, she had fallen to remembering that fateful night in Godric’s Hollow. She attempted to smile at Harry, but instead merely yawned.

He laughed, “Maybe you need a nap, Hermione.”

“You’re probably right. I don’t know why I feel so tired,” she lied. It was past three in the afternoon, but she’d been unable to shake away the drowsiness caused by her uneasy night.

“If you’d like, go lay down and I’ll make sure to rouse you for tea.”

“Alright. I’ll see you in awhile then. Wake me up if you need anything.”

Harry just hugged her and she wandered to her bedroom, where her bed welcomed her into a deep sleep.

***

Hermione was walking down a very familiar hallway. Harry and Ron were walking a few steps behind her, talking about some Quidditch match or other. She wondered how they could be talking about Quidditch at a time like this, for today was their final test. They had studied, prepared, dueled and had sustained countless bruises and even a few broken bones in their quest to destroy Voldemort. All the Horcruxes were gone. Now all that was left was this last spell.

It would take the three of them to cast it, but it would both protect Harry and give him a weapon to destroy Voldemort. Professors Snape, McGonagall and Lupin had trained Harry, Hermione and Ron respectively to use the spell. Now, Lupin had told them, they must prove themselves worthy to wield the magic they sought to use.

Their footsteps echoed in the stone hallway, which was deep under Hogwarts. They came to an imposing wooden doorway and it was Hermione who knocked. Predictably, there was a creaking noise as it opened.

“Please enter,” a smooth voice spoke to them from out of the darkness. As they entered a circle of torches in the center of the room flared to life and they found themselves in the company of a group of robed figures. Hermione’s confidence faltered then, for she knew the figures were not physically present – they were merely spirits of those who had come before to use this magic.

The spell had been passed down through a small group of wizards who guarded its ancient magic. Dumbledore had once been a member of the group.

“Ms. Granger, if you would, please step forward and draw your wand.” McGonagall looked at her piercingly and Hermione hesitated only briefly. She took a deep breath and moved into the circle. There was a stone basin set into the floor, which was filled with a golden liquid. She was reminded of a pensieve filled with Felix Felicis.

“Please speak your incantation, Ms. Granger,” Snape instructed her.

Hermione closed and aimed her wand towards the stone basin. She spoke the words that had echoed through her head for a fortnight.

Hermione felt as if she was floating. There was nothing but inky darkness, above, below and all around her. There was only nothingness and Hermione wondered if she even existed here. At this thought, she felt a small thread of fear wrap around her heart. For the first time in her life, Hermione Granger was desperately unsure of everything around her. There were no clues, no signs and definitely no books to give her any information. There was no light, no sound and she was obviously alone. She felt time drag on and her fear only grew. Something was wrong and she was trapped, had to be. But where?

She would not have time to ponder this as the blackness began to dissolve into an odd gray light and she felt her body begin to spin. Closing her eyes against the blur of motion, she choked back the sickness moving up from her stomach. There were tears leaking down her face now and for some reason, this gave her the tiniest glimmer of hope.

She slammed into the ground with a dull thud and blinked a few times before looking carefully around her. Under her feet was what appeared to be solid, gray stone, it was featureless – dull and impossibly smooth. It was surrounded completely by violent, black water. Hermione had landed on her stomach and she quickly pulled herself up to a sitting position. There was an unexplainable fear in her mind that told her it would be impossible to stand up and not fall into the water. She looked into the distance and saw storm clouds looming on the horizon. Instinct told her that if she was still on the rock when the storm passed over her, she would not survive. She stared at her hands as hot tears once again pricked her eyes and desperately, she tried to think of a plan over the endless churning and roaring of the waves.

“Hermione!”

Her head shot up and she looked around her in a full circle.

“Hermione!” A familiar voice, Harry’s voice, was screaming her name, but it sounded as if it were all around her. There was pure and utter terror in that sound and she was immediately petrified of what that meant.

A loud wind roared up from her left as the screaming continued and Hermione saw that the storm clouds were already upon her. There was brilliant lightening flashing between the clouds, which were as dark as the blackness she had felt only minutes ago.

She was quickly shrouded in the rain that fell from the dark clouds and she could not see more than a few feet in either direction. Hermione was soaked to the bone and freezing cold. Her teeth chattered and her body shuddered violently as the rain continued unabated. Falling to her knees and clutching her arms around her legs, she pressed her forehead against the cold stone and knew without a doubt that she would die here. The wind howled in her ears and the rain traveled in torrents down her neck, through her hair and into her face, but despite this noise, she could still hear the screaming. It was no longer her name, only a wordless shriek.

Without warning, everything went silent and the rain stopped. Raising her head, Hermione saw that Harry’s face was floating only inches from her own. She looked into his eyes and felt a sudden surge of strength. Those green eyes looked back at her, serenely.

“Harry?” she managed to choke out. Her mouth felt dry and her throat was scratchy.

A smile appeared on her friend’s face and quickly widened. A flash of relief passed through Hermione, but was cut off as the smile turned from friendly to wicked. The green eyes that had given her so much relief turned to a vile, blood red color and the friendly face twisted into a black, scarred visage that would forever haunt her. It loomed up until it surrounded her, opening its mouth.

She screamed. The face screamed and Hermione felt as if her whole body would burst apart. That scream snaked itself inside of her and twisted her insides. She was enveloped in complete fear and pain and the only thought that could break through her mind as she began to fall was a simple prayer her mother had taught her as a young girl.

Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.

For she was now, indeed, falling through the blackness once more – only this time, there was an eerie red light everywhere and it was highlighting the scenes spinning wildly before her. There were people all around her, but they weren’t falling as she was. They appeared as if she was watching a strange movie. Straight ahead, she saw something that she knew must haunt Harry: there was a redheaded witch clutching a toddler to her chest as a dark shadow followed her into a back room. To her right, she saw Harry and Ron, alone in a dark cell. They were stretched out on the floor, unmoving. She craned her neck and the scene loomed closer. She saw that they were both dead, killed viciously, as evidenced by the countless stab wounds all over their bodies. The blood shimmered in the moonlight filtering in from somewhere off screen. She didn’t even have time to react as the scene changed to her parents being tortured by Death Eaters. Again and again the pictures changed, showing her gruesome scene after gruesome scene. She saw friends, family, even people she didn’t know meeting their deaths and experiencing everything she had ever feared. It wasn’t only death, but sickness, hunger, torture, rape, loneliness, madness, and just pure and simple pain. There was lots of blood and sometimes none at all. Occasionally, people deserved what they got but usually they didn’t.

She saw everything, finally for what it really was, evil- and not only that, but evil born of fear. For every act she saw was rooted deeply in fear and betrayed some weakness of the perpetrator. In that moment of understanding, something else became immediately clear. There was no way she could fix any of it. There was no way she could stop fear – it was the seed for hate, for malice and for evil. It had been the cause of everything she had just witnessed and also of everything she had just felt. She was powerless to stop it. Her actions were often prompted by fear, even this – this spell they had chosen. Hermione had sought out a way to end Voldemort’s campaign of horror simply because she was afraid. There was nothing behind her actions but that. To see good prevail, to save the world, that meant nothing. She didn’t want to be afraid anymore. There must be a way.

At this thought, everything stopped spinning and the red light disappeared.

***

“Hermione! Hermione, please! Wake up, please.” Harry cried out as he pressed his hands to Hermione’s shoulders, trying to stop her shaking. She blinked and inhaled sharply before looking at him. She was obviously startled and watched him without speaking. “Are you ok? What was that? What happened?”

She gave no answer as tears started to roll down her cheeks. Without thinking, Harry moved next to her on the bed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling his friend to his chest. She settled down, but he could still hear her soft crying.

“Please, Hermione, you have to tell me what’s wrong.”

She sighed and pulled back, wiping her eyes. “I saw… what I saw that night, Harry. Of everything I’ve dreamed, I’ve never seen that and it just… god, I feel so…I don’t even know.”

Harry instantly felt guilty. “Have you been having nightmares?” He barely detected her nod, but still felt angry with himself.

“This is my fault. You said in your letter that you were feeling better, that they had stopped and that you thought it meant you were ready to see everyone again. It’s my being here that’s making you have those nightmares again.”

She didn’t deny this and looked at him with an incredible amount of sadness in those brown eyes. Harry was stunned at everything he saw there. “God, Hermione, I’m so sorry. I need to leave. You can’t go through this all again – it was my fault that you did it in the first place. I should have just listened to Snape. He said I should keep you and Ron safe-“

“That’s not true, Harry. It’s not your fault.”

“It is. I shouldn’t have let you do what we did.”

Hermione jumped off the bed and stood in front of him with her hands on her hips. “Please, that’s just an excuse, Harry! It’s why you went away, to keep us safe and it didn’t work, you know. I was haunted, I was terrified by everything I saw, and everything I felt. Of course, I was, Harry, I was young. But I didn’t do it because of you, or even for you, I just did what I had to do.”

“It wasn’t your job, Hermione, it was mine.” He was clenching his teeth, feeling angry that she had convinced herself that all of this was her burden to bear. “You could have had a normal life, you could have gone to school and you could even be teaching now. You’d have a life, Hermione, not just your cottage and your books!”

“I like what I’ve done here, Harry. It gave me a place to work and to think. I couldn’t have gone back anymore than you could have. My father was gone and my mother thought it my fault.”

Harry looked startled as she said this, and also knew that it couldn’t possibly be true. “She never felt that way, she couldn’t have.”

“I saw it in her eyes, Harry. She was hurt and alone and it was entirely my fault.”

“You can’t blame yourself for that. If it weren’t for me, your parents would have been safe. Don’t you see? I can’t stay here with you. I thought I could be here, with you, and we could work together and I could start to build a normal life. I’m never meant to have that, it’s not even right for me to be here with you.”

Hermione sobbed, tears running down her face. “No, no, you deserve it, just like I do. That’s why I wanted you here, why I even went to the wedding in the first place. I wanted to see what I’d saved, wanted to live in the place that I’d given so much up for and see everyone that helped me do it. You should have that too.” Without hesitation, Harry stood up and gathered Hermione into his arms, crushing her against him.

“But-“

“No, I can’t have you blaming yourself for this. The nightmares will pass. It’s unreasonable to think that I could just jump right in without any adjustments. But you have to be here, Harry. We have to do this together – that’s why we couldn’t do it the first time around. Ron had his family, and now he has Andie, but I have no one Harry. I can’t do this without you.” She was still within the circle of his arms and he felt her relax slightly as she finished her tangent. Her breath was heavy and he could feel her pulse racing, but she took several deep breaths to calm down.

He kept his arms firmly around her awhile longer as a rush of memories came back to him. All the hugs, and the friendly kisses and the times she brought him food to eat. She had taken care of him always, and now it was time that they took care of each other. It was time to give her everything she had given him.

“Come on then. It’s time for tea and afterwards we can talk some more.” He kissed the top of her head gently and pulled away. She took his hand and gave it a squeeze before following him to the kitchen.

They made dinner together that night, side by side as she sliced potatoes and he cut up tomatoes. They made seasoned pork chops and roasted potatoes, with a salad on the side. Over dinner they talked about her work, what she had been researching and what she planned to do. Harry told her about reversal charms he was working on and how he had been developing a way to eliminate the AK curse. She was fascinated at the implications and offered additional information.

They retired to the living room after their meal and talked about friends from school (“Lavender Brown dated Colin Creevy?” “Oh yes, and he broke her heart”) and the wedding. Hermione told him about her mother’s trip and Harry updated her on Professor Lupin. The fire had died out and the night had grown late when they finally retired to their separate bedrooms.

***

Harry awoke the next morning feeling rested and content, feeling admittedly better than he had in a long time. The small cottage was still quiet at this hour and he decided that a walk into the village was in order. He quickly showered and was out the door in twenty minutes, strolling down the lane that connected Hermione’s cottage to town. There were wild flowers on either side of the road, and to the East, he saw the North Sea shimmering in the early light. A tingling sensation settled in his stomach as he breathed in the salty sea air and his step lightened somewhat. He felt at home, which he hadn’t felt even in his last year at Hogwarts. They had spent considerable time at Grimmauld Place that year, rather than the castle. But here, he felt like he had gone back to something after far too long.

***

July 29, 2003

Ron Weasley was stretched out on a deck chair aboard the HMS Neptune and enjoying the lovely view of his wife drying off after a swim.

“Will you stop staring at me, Ron? You’re going to give me a complex.” Andie turned to look at him, grinning, before tossing her towel over his head.

Ron laughed and pulled the towel away. “I love you; so what if I can’t stop watching you? Better than other women, right?” Andie just smirked as she took a long draw from his rum punch.

“We arrive in Little Cayman tomorrow, you know. One of Ginny’s friends was telling me at the wedding that the entire magical quarter is underwater. She said it’s amazing to shop there- sea turtles and fish are all around you,” Andie said as she settled into her chair.

“That sounds nice. Can’t say I care too much about shopping, but that’s just Ginny’s friends for you.” He took her hand gently in his and looked at her shining wedding ring carefully. “I can’t believe we only have two nights left on the ship. This honeymoon has gone by far too fast.“

“Oh, I could live on a cruise ship,” Andie sighed, smiling at him, “When I retire, I want to travel around on the wizarding ship that goes to a different port every single day, all over the world. You know, Tahiti on Tuesday and Antigua on Wednesday.”

“I hate to break it to you then.”

“What’s that?”

“You shouldn’t have married a teacher if that’s how you plan on spending retirement. I’ve got this friend that’s loaded and he’s available. He’s a bit skinny though, has goofy glasses and bad hair.”

Andie’s only reply was to pull him to his feet and whisper in his ear, “Come with me, and I can show you why I married a teacher.”

Ron grinned and without another word, followed his wife back to their cabin.

***

Later that night, Ron and Andie had ordered room service for tea and were settled in their cabin, snuggled deep into ship-provided robes. Andie was carefully assembling a plate from the dishes and platters scattered around as she listened to Ron talk about the upcoming school year.

“I think it’s time I petition McGonagall to make Muggle Studies a required course. There’s too much that’s not being taught and with the way things are right now, I think the students need to be more aware of the world around them.”

“Do you think she’ll agree to it?”

“There’s no way to tell. Hermione wrote to me about some of the research she’s been conducting. I’m hoping some of her theories can be stepping stones for the course structure.”

“What is it that she’s been working on?”

“Some theories about why magical genes aren’t more prevalent. It’s pretty heavy stuff. Genetics, I think.” Ron made a face – genetics wasn’t something he’d really managed to wrap his head around. Muggle science was not his strong suit. “The outline was pretty far over my head but she rambled on her in letter that she could probably explain it better if given proper time to prepare.”

Andie snorted. She’d heard enough about Hermione to know that one of her favorite things was talking about what she’d been learning. There was no doubt that Hermione was a smart one, but Andie wondered if she wasn’t a bit obsessive.

“What about you? Any plans for this year?”

Andie shrugged. “Nothing much new, it should be a pretty typical year.”

Ron was concerned over her disinterest in school – it was usually one of the things they talked about most. “What’s wrong? Are you not looking forward to the new term?”

Andie was now considering him carefully, and seemed to be weighing something. He knew better than to pressure her further and just waited patiently for her to speak. “Well, see, the thing is, even before we got married, I realized my focus had shifted a bit. I think it started when Fleur had Adelaide and Elise…”

“Are you saying you want a baby?” Ron cut her off, feeling a mix of pleasure and surprise at the turn of conversation.

Andie looked doubtful as she nodded.

“That’d be good, I think. It’d be nice to start a family.”

“Really?” asked Andie, quietly, looking down at her hands.

Ron was surprised over her apparent shyness over this topic. He reached across the table and brushed his fingers gently against her cheek. “Of course, Andie. We’ve talked about a family before.”

“I know – I just didn’t think you’d be ready.”

At this, Ron laughed. “I don’t think we’d ever really be ready you know. I kind of got the impression from my dad that nothing could really prepare you for what it’s all about. But now, now is perfect. We’re both young and healthy, with plenty of available babysitters.”

Andie laughed at him, turning her head to kiss his fingers. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll probably have to beg for them to let me take her home.”

“Oh, is it to be a girl first? I always rather fancied a son first.”

“I think there are enough Weasley males running around. I think I ought to do my part to even things up a bit.”

Ron laughed. “There are only two boys in the current round of kids. How will the Weasley name ever carry on?”

“Oh, that seems like a real problem so far.”

Ron laughed his agreement. “I suppose it doesn’t matter which it is, as long as it’s not twins.”

“Oh, lovely that. You’ve gone and jinxed us now.”

“But twins skip a generation!”

“Is that a Weasley Standard Tactic to get women to have your children?”

“I can’t very well give you all my secrets, can I?”

Andie stuck her tongue out at him before taking another bite of dinner. He returned the favor before his face softened and he reached across the table to kiss her mouth. “You’ll be a good mum, you know,” he said after a few moments, whispering the words against her lips.

***

Of the five islands they’d visited, Ron liked Little Cayman the best. Their cruise had been to small islands scattered through the Caribbean, all with extensive magical populations. The magical ships were permitted limited access to ports (something about the disappearing and reappearing liners bothered Muggle tourists), so the cruises offered were far different than the typical fare. Ron knew that the Muggle population was under two hundred, but the magical quarter was home to nearly one thousand witches and wizards. The quarters were indeed under water, obscured magically by what Muggles thought was an undersea wall.

There were dozens of shops, restaurants and other tourist traps underneath the crystal blue waters. Each passenger aboard the ship had been given a Portkey to take them to the welcome center; the ship would be out of view of the small island, with the additional security of obscuring charms. Immediately on landing in the welcome center, Ron and Andie were accosted by wizards dressed up like pirates, pressuring them for a photo. Ron, feeling like a seasoned pro by now, declined the photo opportunities and pulled Andie out into the quarter.

Immediately, Ron was stunned by the sight that met them. Rather than the sky, he saw shimmering water, filled with marine life darting about. There were thousands of little, brightly colored fish and Andie pointed out a sea turtle swimming overhead. They gawked openly for a few minutes before Andie pointed out a small gift shop, saying that they could at least pick up a few souvenirs.

Nearly forty minutes later, they emerged from the shop laden with packages.

“Do you think Hermione really needs a beach towel? I mean, I’ve never known her to go to the beach,” Ron asked, shifting myriad bags so that he could reach his wand.

“It’s the thought Ron – and besides, it isn’t like Harry needs all the rum you bought. Whoever heard of mermaid rum, anyhow? Last time I checked, no one grew sugar cane under water.”

“It says here on the bottle that mermaids stole it from pirates, who had stolen it from a naval ship. And besides, you’re the one that picked out that creepy floating sea turtle. It just… swims, in mid-air. Who’s that for anyhow?”

“Isaac. I got one for Sadie too, sort of as thank you gifts.”

“I’m sure that Charlie and Fred will both be pleased,” Ron said, rolling his eyes.

Andie shrugged and began the process of shrinking down the bags into something a little easier to carry. She opened her purse and Ron helped her place the shrunken parcels inside. After that was finished, they began to move once more down the main thoroughfare. There was more shopping, followed by lunch and a trip in a magical bubble out in the water, where they were able to better see all the wild life.

Dinner was to be held on the island for the final night of the cruise. There was a huge space cleared out in the center of the busy street, with café tables set up sporadically. A local band played soft music as waiters bustled from table to table, bearing trays laden with local specialties. They sampled turtle soup and a local fish dinner, followed by soaked rum cake.

Finally, the tables were cleared to the sides and the band became the center of the show. They switched gears to livelier music and Ron felt himself being pulled up to dance. The rum left him feeling rather carefree, so he obliged Andie with several dances.

After several fast-paced songs, the band began to play a slower song, and Ron pulled Andie against him. The quarter’s lights had been dimmed and all around them were shimmering candles, which mirrored the moonlight that filtered through the water above. Ron kissed his new wife as she wrapped her arms around his neck and they danced that way, pressed up against one another, until the music died down and people began moving towards the welcome center again.

---

Author's Note:

Thanks to my beta reader, Neil! Also, thanks to all those who reviewed Chapter II. This chapter came out sooner than I thought it would, so I realize that may just happen from time to time. To the reviewer who asked which Weasley kid belongs to who, I'll be clearing that all up in chapter four, where we head to the Burrow for awhile. Thanks for reading!