The Last Time

Calliope

Story Summary:
When Harry wants to stop the pain he suffers from re-occurring dreams about the death of his parents, it is only the bond he shares with Ron and Hermione that saves his life. The bond proves to be the only thing that saves them all as they face the unimaginable… [written pre-OotP, but partially OotP-compatible]

Chapter 17

Chapter Summary:
When Harry wants to stop the pain he suffers from re-occurring dreams about the death of his parents, it is only the bond he shares with Ron and Hermione that saves his life. The bond proves to be the only thing that saves them all as they face the unimaginable… (Rated PG-13- R/Hr, H/Hr...)
Posted:
02/25/2003
Hits:
2,780
Author's Note:
The Last Time was originally written pre-OotP and then was edited to comply with the new canon. There are still some small things that don’t quite reconcile with OotP but I had to take a bit of artistic license with them, such as the inability of boys to go into the girls’ dormitories, the layout of St. Mungo’s, how people are selected to be Aurors, and a few other small things. I felt that changing them to be totally compatible with OotP would require totally taking the story apart and reworking it.

Chapter 17


23 December


Dear Hermione,


I've been here practicing for two days and I'm having the best time. The team is brilliant - playing with them is something totally different than playing on the school team. (I bet Harry could beat their Seeker, though.) I've learned so many great moves - I can't wait to get back to school and kick Slytherin's arses. Stupid gits won't know what hit them. There's three other students here as well - one from Durmstrang (and no, I did not ask him if he knows Viktor!), a girl from the Salem Witches' Institute, and a bloke from some school in Zimbabwe that I don't know the name of. Oh and guess what - Simon asked all four of us to come back over Easter hols to try out officially! I can't wait. George and Fred are going to have kittens when they hear that!

I'm going home on Christmas Day. I want to stay longer, but Mum got shirty with me when I asked her about it. There's presents for you and Harry under my bed. Good thing I left them - I don't trust Pig. He's acting awfully stupid. I bet he won't even get this letter to you. DO NOT open your presents till Christmas Day. I put charms on them and I will know if you do, so no peeking. (Either of you.)

I hope the practicing is going well. The Trials are on the 27th, right? You and Harry better be careful. If not you will be in Big Trouble when I get back.

~ Ron



24 December

Dear Ron,


We got your letter yesterday. Pig made it here with no problem, though he was very hyper. It is very quiet around here. Not too many people stayed for Christmas this year. The only other Gryffindors that stayed are the Creevey brothers (their parents went on holiday to Australia to visit a great-aunt or something) and Natalie McDonald (she didn't say why, but I think something's going on at home).

We've been working like crazy. I can't believe some of the new charms and hexes we've learned over the last few weeks. I'm so tired and I'll be glad when it's over. Lupin is coming up tomorrow to help us some more. Lisa Turpin and Terry Boot from Ravenclaw and Ernie Macmillan from Hufflepuff are going through the Trials too, though they aren't practicing with us.

By the way, we found the presents from you and put them under the tree. Harry has been trying to figure out what his is - don't worry, he didn't peek. Yesterday, Hedwig took gifts to the Burrow for you and Ginny to open tomorrow. Tell your mum I'm really sorry I can't come to the Burrow for Christmas. I was going to try to go see my parents tomorrow, but we've too much to do. My parents are not happy about me not coming home. They were even less happy when I told them why. I tried to explain about the Aurors. I think they think it's like MI5. Do you know what that is? Anyway, my dad was in full overprotective mode in his last letter. I think if he could have sent me a Howler, he would have.

Wow, you got invited to try out for real! See, I told you so. You don't give yourself enough credit. You'll have to tell us more about it when you get back. Muehenera Bhodhhlgi is the name of the wizarding school in Zimbabwe. It's even older than Hogwarts. Harry is pestering me right now - he says to remind you not to do the Starfish and Stick without the stick, whatever that means. I'm sure it's a Quidditch thing.

Well, we're off to practice some more before dinner. Give everyone at the Burrow my love (and Harry's too, he says.)

Happy Christmas,

Hermione

*****

The Gryffindor common room was covered in wrapping paper and ribbons after Harry and Hermione opened their gifts on Christmas morning. Mrs. Weasley sent them both hand knitted jumpers - Hermione's white, Harry's green - and a box filled with homemade fudge, popcorn balls, and some kind of wonderful chocolate and coconut cake Hermione had never had before. They helped themselves to a few slices of cake before opening the rest of the presents.

Ron's gift to her was a picture of the two of them in a beautiful rosewood frame. Colin Creevey had undoubtedly taken the picture, as he had a way of taking wonderfully flattering pictures in almost any kind of light without you even knowing he was there. She and Ron were sitting on a sofa in the common room, not in front of the fire but off to the side, and they were both laughing. It was a wonderful picture of both of them, capturing the fun and laughter that was typical of Ron and the time they spent together. She remembered the day it had been taken. Ron was telling a rather rude joke about a wizard, a monkey, and a broomstick, and half of her was appalled at the crudeness of the joke while the other half of her thought it was riotously funny. Hermione ran her fingers over the intricate Celtic knotwork design that was carved into the edge of the frame.

"He made that, you know," said Harry, looking over her shoulder. "The frame. He worked on it for the longest time, usually when he thought no one was looking. Went through about three of them before he got the Etching Charm just right."

Hermione's parents sent her a flat black velvet box. Inside were a pearl necklace and a note, which said: This was your grandmother Olivia's necklace. Wear it with pride and know that we love you. Love, Mum and Dad.

"I never knew my grandmother," said Hermione. "My mum's mum. She died before my parents were even married. I didn't even know about this necklace."

"It's beautiful," said Harry. "It's nice to have something that belonged to your family." His eyes clouded over a little.

"Did you open all your gifts yet?" Hermione asked lightly, suddenly wondering if what she'd gotten him had been a good idea.

"Almost." Besides the jumper and sweets from Mrs. Weasley, Harry had a tin of treacle fudge from Hagrid, a Quidditch book from Ron, and a wizarding radio from Remus. "I was just about to open this one. It must be from you."

Harry's jaw dropped when he unwrapped the thin, flat package. "Hermione..."

After seeing the way Harry had reacted to finding his parents' graves, Hermione began working on his Christmas gift. It took a bit of research and some help from Dean Thomas (as Hermione was no good at drawing), but she managed to put together a family tree for Harry, with the names and dates of 5 generations of the Potter and Evans families. Researching the Potter family hadn't been difficult; she found most of the information in the Hogwarts library, and what little she couldn't find on her own was helpfully obtained by Mr. Weasley from the Ministry records. Since the Evans family were Muggles, and weren't in the Ministry records, Hermione had asked her mother to do the research for her in the Public Record Office. Mrs. Granger had been more than willing, as she was something of a genealogy buff. Dean had drawn it up in an elegant style with Harry's name at the top, his parents' underneath, with each previous generation branching out under that, and the borders were filled with a medieval-looking scrollwork design.

"I'm sorry it doesn't go back any farther," said Hermione hurriedly. "The information was less accurate the farther back I looked on your dad's side. The Ministry doesn't have the best record-keeping system in the world. Your mom's side was much easier, it was all in the government records - "

Harry shook his head, staring at the decorated parchment in the frame. "No, Hermione, it's great. Really. I never knew any of their names besides my mum and dad and...my aunt." He traced the names with a finger, down the names of the men on the Potter side of the list.

Harry James Potter
James Godric Potter
William Stewart Potter
James MacKenzie Potter
Nathaniel James Potter
William Godric Potter

"Thanks." He looked away, knuckles white as he gripped the frame.

"Harry, I didn't mean to upset you," said Hermione.

"Oh, no, you didn't," said Harry. "It's just - it must have been a lot of trouble."

"No trouble, really," she replied.

He took a deep breath and laid the frame aside carefully. "I'll look at it some more later. Did you open all your gifts?"

"Yes, I did, they were lovely," said Hermione. "I'm starved - do you want to go down for breakfast?"

"Not in my pyjamas," said Harry. Then he dug around in the pockets of his robe. "Wait a minute...where is it...I forgot to give you this." He pulled out a small green box.

Hermione opened it to find a gold wristwatch with a creamy white face.

"It's not a regular watch," said Harry. "Look." He flipped the watch face up with a flick of his thumb.

While at first glance it looked like a perfectly ordinary Muggle watch, the face could be flipped up to reveal a green watch face underneath that reminded Hermione of the grandfather clock at the Burrow. This dial had three gold hands, each engraved with two initials - HG, RW, HP - and instead of numbers, it had the words written in the tiniest possible script: Quidditch, Hogwarts, Home, Work, Travelling, Hospital, Mortal Peril. The HG and HP hands were pointing to Hogwarts, and the RW hand was pointing to Quidditch.

"I love it, Harry...thank you." She picked up the watch to put it on, but found that her fingers didn't want to cooperate and she couldn't manage the clasp.

"Here." Harry took the watch from her and fastened it around her wrist. His fingers lingered there for just a second longer than necessary, gently twisting the watch around to get a good look at it. "I have one, and I got one for Ron as well. So we know...where we are, even when we're not together."

The RW hand on Hermione's watch moved from Quidditch to Travelling. "I suppose Ron's on his way home, then," said Hermione.

"Yeah," said Harry, letting go of her wrist. He got up and began to pick up all the torn and shredded paper that was lying around them. "Go get dressed, and let's get some breakfast."

*****

25 December

Dear Ron,

Thank you for the picture of us! And the frame! It's beautiful. I didn't know you did that sort of thing. You're full of hidden talents. I'll thank you properly when you get back. Got to run, we're meeting Remus after lunch.

Hugs,

Hermione

PS. Thanks for the book! Next year, when you're famous and all, you can give me one about your new team. ~ Harry

*****

After lunch, Harry and Hermione met Remus in the Transfiguration classroom for another practice session. He wasn't alone this time - he'd brought Tonks with him. Last time Hermione had seen her, her hair had been waist-length and bright pink; today it was short, blue, and spiky.

"Wotcher, Harry," she said cheerfully. "Remus said you might need an extra hand with these Trials - and while you're not supposed to get help from a faculty member, it doesn't say anything about you not being able to work with an Auror, now does it?"

After a bit of chatter, they got down to business. They did some practice duels to show off the new spells they'd learned. Hermione went against Remus first - it was a close fight but she managed to disarm him with a well-timed Adflictius Curse to his wand hand that took him by surprise. Harry and Tonks duelled next, which took quite a while, but Harry brought her down with the Lassus Curse before disarming her.

Tonks was quite impressed with the Lassus Curse. "I don't remember learning that one, Harry. Good work. I hope I never have to feel that again." She grinned.

They took a little break at that point, and then Harry and Remus faced off. This match took the longest yet. Each time Remus fired a curse at Harry, Harry got the countercurse out just in time or dodged, and Remus avoided Harry's curses equally well. Just when Hermione thought it would end in a draw, Remus hit Harry with a Reversing Charm, which made Harry do the exact opposite of what he wanted to do. Before Harry figured out what had happened, he tried to cast a Shielding Charm on himself and wound up casting it on Remus instead, at which point he walked over and plucked Harry's wand from his fingers.

"Damn, Remus," said Harry, after he'd lifted the Reversing Charm and returned his wand. "That was brilliant. I'll have to learn that one straight away."

"Dead useful little spell," said Remus. "Very confusing. Though it's not as effective more than once; they'll figure out what's going on the second time around and throw it off."

"I suppose I'll be up against you, next, Tonks?" asked Hermione, taking out her wand.

Tonks shook her head, and Remus spoke up. "Actually, no. I've something else for you to do." He pointed to a box in the corner.

No, not the boggart!

"Come on, Remus, does she really have to?" asked Harry.

"Yes, Harry, she does," said Remus. "I should have made you do this the very first time we studied these in class, Hermione. It would have been over and done with, but I had a suspicion as to what your boggart might be, and I thought that between you with a dying Harry and Harry with a walking Voldemort, the class just might go insane. I was wrong." His mouth smiled, but his eyes didn't.

Tonks spoke up. "I doubt they'll have boggarts tomorrow - it's customarily duelling on the first go-round, but later on they usually have some kind of challenge involving all sorts of situations. I'm certain there'll be one then."

"Let's get it over with, then," said Hermione.

Remus looked at her thoughtfully. "Not so fast. You remember the charm, of course - Riddikulus? It won't work unless you concentrate on making the boggart look as silly as possible."

"I know that," snapped Hermione. "I suppose you have a brilliant idea of how to make a dead Harry look silly? I certainly don't."

"That's what we need to figure out," said Remus. "Can you think of a time when you've seen Harry being silly?"

Hermione thought carefully through the six and a half years she'd known Harry, but couldn't think of a single time when she'd seen him be truly silly. Happy, yes; laughing, yes; but never silly.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Harry just isn't silly."

"I can be silly," said Harry indignantly.

"No, you can't," she said.

"I can so!"

"Can not!"

"Can so!"

"Excuse me," said Remus. "I don't think arguing is going to get us anywhere." He walked over to the box, which began to rattle violently.

"I don't think we're getting anywhere anyway," said Hermione hurriedly. "This is ridiculous, and I don't see the point. If I get there and see something that looks like a not-alive version of Harry, I'll obviously know it isn't real. So, I won't freak out, and I'll deal with it then. See? It's that simple."

"Maybe so, and maybe not." Remus opened the box.

Even though Hermione knew that it wasn't Harry, because the real Harry was standing about four feet away from her, the sight made her stomach lurch sickeningly. Boggart-Harry fell out of the box and hit the floor with a nasty thud and looked up at her, his face a pale, clammy green.

"Hermione..." croaked boggart-Harry, reaching out a hand to her. Blood oozed out of the corner of his mouth and pooled under him on the floor. "Help me...please..."

Hermione's feet froze to the spot and her blood felt like ice water surging under her skin. It's not really Harry; you know it's not...think of something funny. She raised her wand and tried to say "Riddikulus!" but the word was stuck like a rock in her throat. Boggart-Harry began to crawl towards her, whispering her name through the blood that bubbled from his lips. Oh God, make it go away, I can't stand it...

Then the real Harry moved in front of her, and the boggart-Harry changed into a dementor. "Riddikulus!" shouted Harry, and the dementor disappeared with a loud crack! and a puff of smoke.

Hermione looked at the tips of her shoes, not wanting to meet the eyes of anyone in the room. I knew it wasn't really Harry - why couldn't I get rid of it? Hermione Granger, the crybaby. Can't even get rid of a stupid boggart without falling to pieces. A hot flush of mortification burned her cheeks, and she turned and left the room before any of them could say anything.

She ran back to Gryffindor Tower, locked her door, and threw herself on the bed. Harry hadn't come after her, and she was very glad. She had been highly embarrassed on so many levels - Harry (and Remus and Tonks for that matter) knowing what her worst fear was, her sheer incompetence in dealing with the boggart, and the fact that Harry had stepped in and dispatched the boggart for her, like she was a simpering storybook damsel-in-distress - that she felt like crawling under her bedcovers and not coming out until classes started again. If he had come chasing her down the corridor, she might have died of absolute shame.

Ron, I wish you were here, she thought. You'd know what to do to make me laugh...you'd know how to banish the boggart, wouldn't you? You're good at laughing. She looked at the picture he'd given her of the two of them together, looking at his smile and remembering the outrageous joke he'd told. That's what I like best about Ron. He makes me laugh.

*****

Later that evening she went downstairs to the common room, hoping to find a book she thought she'd left there. Instead, she found Remus sitting by the fire and reading the newspaper.

"There you are, Hermione," he said pleasantly, laying the paper aside. "Beginning to wonder when you'd come down."

"Where are Harry and Tonks?"

"They went down to the Three Broomsticks for a bit of Christmas cheer. We could join them if you like."

"No. I don't feel like it." She sat down in one of the squashy red armchairs. "Why didn't you go with them?"

"I wanted to talk to you about the boggart."

"I don't. I think it's plainly obvious that I can't handle these types of situations, and it would probably be better off if I didn't waste my time even going through the Trials," she said harshly.

He raised an eyebrow. "Just because of that one thing?"

"Apparently I can't handle the pressure."

Remus laughed. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but that's absurd. You? Can't handle pressure?"

"You saw what happened."

"Hermione, that doesn't mean you can't handle pressure. It was one thing. And it's something you can work on. Look at all your strengths." He began keeping track on his fingers, as if making a list. "You're a brilliant dueller. I can't believe you bested me with that Adflictius Curse. That's quite advanced magic, past N.E.W.T. level, even. You're also very good at deduction and reasoning. You were the only student in the school who realized I was a werewolf when I taught here, and you figured out that Rita Skeeter was an unregistered Animagus. Your marks are impeccable, you received a record number of O.W.L.s, and you can move between the wizarding and Muggle worlds easily. I don't see how you could not be an Auror."

She picked at the arm of the chair. "Harry sent you to talk to me, didn't he?"

Remus smiled. "Sort of. I thought you might need a talking-to, and so did Harry, but he didn't think you'd listen to him." His smile faded suddenly. "Hermione - you don't have anything to be embarrassed about. You weren't looking at me when we saw that boggart come out looking like Harry. For a minute, I thought...well, maybe that's what James looked like, when he - " He cleared his throat. "Well, let's just say I was in no better shape than you, and neither was Tonks, for that matter. You didn't see either of us rushing in to tackle the boggart, did you?"

*****

Hermione woke up late on Boxing Day feeling absolutely lousy.

My very first hangover. And hopefully my last. Somebody please remind me why people think this is fun. I seem to have missed the humour somewhere along the way.

After their chat in the common room, she and Remus decided to join Harry and Tonks at the Three Broomsticks after all. Since Hermione had skipped dinner, and wasn't a big drinker, it only took a few drinks for her to feel the effects.

She'd been around drunken people before and realized there were three kinds: the loud drunks, the randy drunks, and the quiet drunks. Remus and Harry were loud drunks. This was highly entertaining, as they were both usually very quiet people. Tonks, apparently, was a loud drunk. She changed her hair colour several times throughout the evening and tried on various noses and eye colours as well, causing much pointing and staring from the other patrons. This was also highly entertaining. Hermione discovered that she was a quiet drunk. She was perfectly content to sit back with her drink and watch everyone else make complete idiots of themselves. She was so entranced in watching everyone else in the pub act like fools that she failed to notice exactly how much she was drinking.

She sorely regretted it the moment they got up to leave.

They had to stop twice on the way back to Hogwarts for her to be sick. Harry held her hair back as she threw up on the side of the path. Somehow, they made it back and to their respective dormitories without incident, and Hermione barely managed to take off her cloak and shoes before collapsing on her bed.

And now she was lying in bed, fully dressed, with a pounding headache, a mouth that felt like it was lined in moss, and a lazily churning stomach.

A sharp tap at the window pierced the thick fog of her brain, and she squinted in the general direction. It was Pigwidgeon, banging himself against the pane with senseless abandon. She let him in and took the note, and he bounced spastically out the window again, hooting loudly.

26 December

Dear Hermione,

Great gift! Thanks! I wish you could have been here. It was all wedding talk; I think Fred's lost his Gobstones since he asked The Question. They're getting married at the end of June, at Angelina's parents' house. It's all he talks about now - pathetic, really.

You should see the girl Bill brought home. This Egyptian witch he met through work - she's very pretty. Even Mum liked her. Doesn't speak much English though. I wonder how they get along? Mum made the best Christmas dinner ever and we had a big snowball fight afterward. I got Ginny good right in the eye, then she pushed me into the duck pond and tried to drown me. Bill's girl looked at us like we'd grown extra heads or something. I reckon they don't get much snow in Egypt.

Tell Harry, that's a great watch! What a great idea for us all to have one. I wish Mum hadn't seen it though. She keeps looking at it to make sure you two aren't on "Mortal Peril". George got hold of it and told her Harry's hand was on "Hospital", and she about bashed his head in with the frying pan when she found out he was joking. She doesn't do well with jokes. She told Dad she was putting both of you on the family clock so she won't worry so much. She's nutters.

Good luck tomorrow.

Love,

Ron

She looked again at the end of the letter, just to make sure it wasn't a figment of her alcohol-saturated imagination, but it was still there. Love, Ron. Now, she often signed her letters Love, Hermione, or With Love From, Hermione, which she supposed was a standard girl thing to do. However, Ron Weasley did not sign his letters Love, Ron as well as she could remember.

Love, Ron.

She rolled over and closed her eyes, still holding Ron's letter. Ron, I wish you were here.


Author notes: “Muehenera Bhodhhlgi” translates very, very, very roughly into “Magic School” in Shona. If anyone out there is at all familiar with the Shona language, feel free to let me know a better translation. (There has to be one!) I don’t know why I picked Zimbabwe, other than the fact that it would be just like Hermione to know the name of an African wizarding school, and it’s a beautiful, exotic country.

The names of the Potter men other than Harry and James are totally made up. I know someone has used “James Godric Potter” in a fic before, and I can’t remember who; I didn’t mean to steal it but it sounds so wonderful.

If you don’t know what “Starfish and Stick” is, check out Quidditch Through the Ages. It’s a Keeper defence that is hilariously illustrated in that book. Harry is joking, of course – Ron would never attempt to do such a thing.