The Battle for Peace

Chapter 1: Problems

A cold hand sliding across her throat, the screams of anguish from behind. The Light is starting to lose the fight. If they cannot win this, who's to say they will win the war? With a startled breath, she realizes that the hand sliding across her throat is not a hand but a wand; a wand uttering a fatal curse that draws out all the blood from any vein. The wand was poking at her jugular, and she drew her last breath before...

"AH!" Ashley screeched. She was sweating immensely and her arms were shaking. She looked at her hands and saw that they were wrapped in bandages, as well as her forehead. She threw off the covers and was about to get up when a woman came into the room.

"Finally, you're awake," she grumbled. The woman walked over to Ashley and checked her watch. "Took you long enough."

"Where am I?" Ashley asked. The woman smirked.

"St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. And I must say that you hold a lot of truth to that title. Just look at you," she pointed out. Then she smiled. "Keaton will be here to check on you." Ashley furrowed her brow, which hurt. She grimaced.

"Keaton?" she inquired.

"The only Healer available at the moment," the witch explained. As she turned around on her heel a man came into the room. Looking at him made Ashley's eyes grow wide.

He wasn't that bad looking. He had dark brown hair that fell into his eyes. His eyes were dark blue and he looked really young. WHOA! Ashley thought. Where are these thoughts coming from? The Healer walked over to her with a smile.

"Ashley...Halliwell, right?" he questioned. She nodded slightly; mentally, she was waging a war within herself about how her thoughts were innocent. Something inside did not agree.

"I'm Jeremy Keaton," he said, shaking her hand, which hurt. She raised an eyebrow, which hurt, and sat up, which hurt.

"Do Healers commonly introduce themselves and not notice a bandage on their patient?" she asked, grimacing slightly at the pounding pain in her hands. He chuckled.

"I wouldn't know; I'm no Healer," he explained. Both of her eyebrows went up, which, needless to say, caused some more pain. "I'm an apprentice, sort of. I got into this program that lets me practice being a Healer. I had some pretty good O.W.L.s," he pointed out, holding back a grin. Oh, modesty is not on your list of priorities, is it? she asked mentally.

"Interesting. Can you at least tell me why I'm in so much pain, or have you not gotten to that chapter yet?" she snapped. He scowled.

"I'm glad I'm still at Hogwarts and not dating anyone like you. How old are you?" he asked, raising one eyebrow of his own, which did not hurt. That did it!

"For your information, I am a Seventh Year at Hogwarts. Do you still need to guess my age?" she fumed. Instantly, the bandages fell off of her forehead and the pain was gone. She felt every spot that had a bandage. There wasn't even a single scar.

"Works every time," he said. At the look on her face, he explained. "I think that most patients have the power to heal themselves in situations like yours. When your emotions are stirred up, it sends a form of magic to all your ailing spots. That heals everything instantly, without leaving scars, too. And our bandages magically come off when you're healed."

"Okay. What a mouthful," she stated.

"I hope you didn't take any offense at what I said," he voiced. She stared at him.

"Well, it sure wasn't pleasure that stirred inside," she said. He smiled and left her alone, allowing her to gather her things. He didn't even tell her what her situation had been.

~!~

"Won't her parents mind?" Hermione shook her head.

"Why would they? They don't even live in the same house," she explained. Harry furrowed his brow.

"They divorced?"

"No, silly! She has her own flat now. Didn't she tell you?" she added nervously. Harry shook his head. Hermione only had one word on the tip of her tongue. "Oops."

!~!

As it turned out, most of the Death Eaters that were involved in the attack were now being held in custody. The Wizengamot would decide what to make of them. The Order members that were there miraculously remained unscathed; at least, there was no serious damage. Harry had been at St. Mungo's with mild injuries for only one day. Ashley had had to stay there for almost a week. Harry had been so worried, yet so sure she would be up and about soon, that he wanted to throw her a party. He wasn't sure if her parents would allow it, but then, Hermione had let it slip that she was out on her own and had been ever since her birthday.

Why didn't she tell him? Did she not trust him? Harry didn't understand why this was kept a secret. It wasn't like he was going to--wait a minute. That might have been it. Did she actually think he'd go that far? Bloody hell! He was only seventeen! Harry knew that his parents must have gotten married young and probably did...that, but he didn't want to do any of that until he was ready. He didn't know when. He just knew it'd be with her.

Diagon Alley

"Hermione! Why did you tell him? Now he thinks I don't trust him," Ashley whined. They were at Florean Fortescue's and were eating outside when Hermione confessed to letting the secret out.

"I honestly thought that he knew," Hermione exclaimed in her defense. "He wanted to do something special and I said 'Go for it.' Then he said 'Won't her parents mind?' and I said 'No, they're not even in the same house'. Then he asked if your parents were divorced, which was a little stupid on his behalf. I told him 'No, silly! She has her own flat now.' I got worried that I let something slip, so I asked him if you had told him and he just shook his head," she finished breathlessly. Ashley's mouth was hanging open.

"Did you record this conversation and memorize it? Are you doing it right now?" she asked, searching Hermione's bag for a tape recorder or something of the sort. Hermione giggled.

"No, silly--"

"Stop! Before you let something else slip," Ashley warned, holding up a hand to stop Hermione from completing her statement. Hermione huffed, and Ashley just laughed.

The Weasley Home

"So, you are certain it's going to be with her, right? I mean, you actually sound serious, mate," Ron voiced. Harry had just explained to Ron what his theory on the situation was, and how his mind helped him deal with it.

"Yeah, I guess," Harry confirmed. Ron shook his head.

"But you do realize you have to get married before you get into her knickers, right? She's not going to--you know," Ron trailed off. Harry stood still, worried.

"But what if she will?" he asked, knowing Ron could not answer that question.

"I only have one thing to say to that, Harry," Ron announced. Harry turned to him, almost daring to believe Ron actually had some insight about all of this. "You're totally whipped; you'll only do it when she wants to." A pillow came flying his way. He caught it.

"Can't do it myself, Ronnie. Not everyone can copy you," Harry countered. Ron coughed and stuck out his tongue.

"Eew! Who told you to watch me?" he asked, incredulous. Harry laughed hard.

"You sick bastard!"

The Flat

"You'll call me tomorrow, right?"

"Yes, I promise you. Now, good night, Hermione," Ashley said.

With that, Hermione turned and started home. Ashley fumbled slightly with the key (it was about midnight), then went upstairs to her apartment. Her apartment; she liked the sound of that. She also liked the fact that she didn't have to explain to anyone why she was out so late. Ah, freedom.

As she shut the door and headed into the kitchen for a glass of milk, she heard footsteps. Not very trusting in times like these (though, she wouldn't be in any other time, either), she made her way into the kitchen. She fumbled around in the drawers for a knife, then held it up. The footsteps were right there in the same room. In the darkness she could just make out a shadowy figure tiptoeing across the floor. In one quick thrust of her arm, the knife went soaring across the room right above the figure's head. She quickly turned on the lights and gasped.

"Harry!" she screamed. Harry was standing there, frozen, his eyes watching the blade move from the left and to the right from its position on the wall. He tried to take it out, but couldn't; it was lodged in too deep. After giving up he turned to her and his eyes were wide.

"Nice shot," was all he said.

"I practiced a lot with that trick when I was younger," she explained, not relaxing from her stiff stance. They both were silent for a minute before he spoke.

"Where have you been?" he asked, changing moods. She shook herself mentally. What did he say?

"What did you say?" she voiced aloud. He repeated. She didn't know what was going on here. She moved out of her parents' house and one of the many pluses (probably the most important) was that she didn't have to explain herself to anybody anymore. Now, Harry was standing in her apartment (how he got in is anybody's guess) asking her where she had been.

"Why does it matter?" she asked defiantly, but calmly.

"Why didn't you tell me you had your own flat?" he asked. Oh, boy. A voice in her head was making announcements: "Ladies and gents, boys and girls, tonight we are showing the biggest fight of the century: the fight of the married couple. When did they get married, you say? They didn't; they just fight like they are. On one side of the ring we have Harry Potter, who has taken the role of the controlling husband. On the other side, we have Ashley Halliwell, who thought that she was free from this kind of thing until now. There goes the bell and...fight!"

"Why are you not answering my question? And how did you get in here in the first place?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow. (Punch in the chest to Potter! She's fiery tonight!)

"The door was open," he answered simply. (Ouch! He blocked that one.)

"And why does it matter where I was?" (Another punch to the chest! Will he block it?)

"I had something special planned and you weren't here," he replied. (He's going to block it again!) Ashley didn't think that was a valid excuse for hanging out in her apartment without telling her.

"Well, you could have owled me or called me. And if not, you could have left instead of staking out here like a bounty hunter," she snapped. (Yowza! She got him below the belt!)

"Seems like I should have; that knife could have gone straight into my head," he stated, rubbing his head for effect. (Folks, it looks like he's not going to do anything.)

"Would you rather I not defend myself? What if you had been a Death Eater? You might not even had gotten a chance to ask where I was, which, by the way, I'm not answering because you're not my mother," she said. (Punch in the face! She's not stopping. Look! A punch in the stomach! Ow!)

"Well, then," he said, "will you at least answer the one about not telling me about this place?" he asked. She sighed and ran a hand across her face. He indicated with his hand that she should sit down, and she did. (Folks, there will now be a brief intermission. Go ahead and grab some grub! We'll return after these messages from our sponsor!)

"Well, I guess that--I thought--I still-" she stuttered. He sighed and finished her sentence for her.

"You thought that I'd take it all the way, and still do," he said. She closed her eyes and nodded. He sighed again. "First of all, we may be in the middle of a war, but that's still no excuse to do that now. Second, we are only 17; we're not ready. All that I can tell you is that when we're both ready, we'll do it," he told her. She smiled. Everything was going to be okay.

Hold the phone.

We'll do it?

"The two of us?" she asked. He looked at her strangely.

"You're kinky," he stated, shaking his head. She protested.

"No! Good God no! I mean, are you confident that we'll be together that long?" she questioned, furrowing her brow. His eyes were asking her: what kind of question is that!

"Yeah. Maybe by that time we'll even--" she quickly cut him off.

"Hold it. Stop the presses. Do you think I'll have sex before I'm married?" she asked, a little dubious.

"No one stands by that moral for long. Almost every girl says that, and then they wind up having sex with their current boyfriend and possibly every one they'll ever have," Harry replied.

"And that's what you see for me!" she fumed. "I told you that I wouldn't do that until I was married!"

"After we almost did. I'd say you're on the edge of the cliff there," he stated. Her eyes narrowed.

"I'm not, you are!"

"Why are you yelling?" She took deep breaths.

"I'll tell you why. My boyfriend thinks that I'm a complete slut who'll do it with every guy that comes my way. He is absolutely positive he can get inside my pants in two years, tops! Oh, and get this: he's condemning me!" she finally screamed, her arm flinging. A flash of red light flew from her hand and hit a nearby glass, which shattered on impact. He jumped.

"How exactly am I condemning you?" There was a pause. "Wait, you're telling me you don't think we'll be together for that long?"

"I'm just saying that you're looking too far into the future... romantically. Slow down, will ya?" she pleaded. He checked his watch and shook his head. More silence followed.

"It's late. I have to go," he said, dismissive.

"Go ahead. I need some time to think, anyway," she said, getting up. He nodded and left. She sighed and leaned up against the refrigerator, slowly falling. What was happening?

One Week Later

Their Hogwarts letters had come. The teachers couldn't decide who to make Head Girl, so Hermione and Ashley had to share the duties. They were making history; it was the first time in Hogwarts's history that instead of two Prefects, a boy and girl from every House, there were two girls and one boy from the same year. It was also the first time there were two Head Girls.

She, Hermione and Ginny had gone together, along with some other girls from some other Houses, to Diagon Alley to get their supplies. After that, they went to some of the Muggle malls, just for fun. They even bought a few outfits.

Ashley was now in her flat, cleaning the dishes. Hermione and Ginny had come over for girls' night at home, and they all pitched in with dinner. Hermione had volunteered to go get some good movies to see, while Ginny went to find "the best snack food of the century." That left Ashley waiting for them while she did the dishes. What a mess.

She was distracted a few minutes later by someone knocking at the door. Since Hermione and Ginny would have yelled that they were there or barged in (the door was unlocked), Ashley cautiously walked toward the door. It might have been one of Voldemort's Death Eaters.

"Who is it?" she asked, almost whispering.

"Me," someone said. She looked through the peephole to make sure, then let Harry in. "Thanks," he said. He had one hand behind his back as he entered.

"Look, about the other night--" Ashley began, but Harry cut her off.

"Wait. You were right. I was thinking to far ahead into the future. I'm sorry. I'm also sorry that, though I didn't say it, I implied that you'd throw your morals away for me. Can you forgive me?" he asked, handing her a rose.

"I guess," she said, hesitantly taking the rose.

"What did you need to think about?" he inquired. She sighed.

"This is hard," she said under her breath. "Um, about our relationship. I've been going back and analyzing what it is. Doing that made me realize what I really want, and it took a long time for me to come to this conclusion." She stopped, not wanting to go on, yet she knew she had to. "Two things. One: this entire...thing...seems like just a fling. I don't want that. I'm not looking for something serious; I'm not really sure what I'm looking for. But, all I do know is that it's not this. Every time we're by each other things get too heavy and we go too far. I don't want to do that anymore. I don't want a break. I want a separation." A very long pause followed.

"Oh," Harry said. He stood there, standing in the doorway, feeling awkward. Am I doing the right thing? That same question was running through Ashley's head the whole time.

"I know this is stupid, but since we started out that way, can we be friends instead?" she asked.

"I guess." Another pause. "I-I know you explained it, sort of, but, why?" he asked. She tried to keep the tears back.

"You know how you saw me in your future?" she asked, her voice slightly shaky. He nodded. "I looked, but I never really saw you in the way that you probably saw me. There was one where I did, but it was something we had done before. I realized that I don't feel the way I should in this relationship. I don't want to lead you on if I don't feel the same way. Everything just doesn't feel right. I'm sorry, Harry." He looked down.

"No, don't be," he said. "I'm just sorry you had to do this." He turned and left. She shut the door quietly. She still had the rose in her hand. In her mind, she went back to the day she had been captured. Before she had gone to the Ravenclaw Common Room, she had been trying to study, but Harry had distracted her. They had been kissing forever. Was that all they were about? He never could keep his hands off of her. Then, she remembered what they had said to each other that day.

"Now, I believe that we will make it that far." He had asked her if she thought they were moving too fast. Why did she say the future was certain? What was it about sixteen that made you lose all of your senses? And that whole scene was a heavy one. They were moving too fast. She never would have done that, but there was something about being with Harry...

"I'll never stop loving you." His voice was happy and she could tell he couldn't stand being with anyone else at that moment. But they never really talked. Now, it made her feel like a toy. The whole relationship wasn't her cup of tea.

"Never say never." It had always been something negative to her, until that moment when he said he loved her.

"There's a loophole: you can say it if you mean it enough to say it twice. So *ahem* I'll never, never stop loving you." He went too far. She could never be certain of something like that or say it.

"I'll never, never, never stop loving you." She had actually told him that. What had she been thinking! Nothing lasted forever. She fell to the floor and threw the rose in the trash, the tears finally falling. Tears for her, for putting Harry through this, for lying to him.

"I'll never, never, never stop loving you."

She had.