Accidents of Circumstance

Chapter 24: Carry My Heart

the way is long and hard and tangled

and bound up with the secrets of your youth

and the way to escape is the way to embrace

and become all that you wished you were

and reject all that you wished you weren't

and let go of all you once could have been

but can be no more.

and the way forward is backward

and the way through is out

and the way within is without.

Hermione was sitting in the office, puzzling over her letter. Harry had mentioned that Draco had received support from Selphie. Hermione had gotten some strange formless poem, and had assumed that the others had as well. Now she was wondering what Selphie had meant by such a thing, and why she would receive it.

Ron looked at it, and suggested that all four of the teenagers should consult it. "If it's another prophecy, like from that book you had, then we might need the bugger's viewpoint. He knows how to think in riddles."

Draco had been very silent at their meeting. It seemed as though he were taking the poem very seriously, very personally. Harry was of course taking it literally first, asking Hermione about her childhood, about any dreams that hadn't happened. And of course any dreams of medical school or dental school were out of the question, any Muggle lifestyle was. She was purely on the path to a Magical profession, if only she could pick one. There were too many things that interested her with magic, so it would be hard to pin down the perfect profession.

"You wanted to help others. You wanted to heal," Draco had said finally. "Who said you can't still do that?" He didn't elaborate, but he didn't need to.

"Healing spells, then. Lots and lots of them. You'll be our healer," Ron had said cheerfully. "Who knows? You might even invent a new one!"

Hermione was staring at the slip of paper now. It had been a typical prophecy, then. It was meant to give multiple messages. Draco received a message, Hermione did, and perhaps even Harry and Ron had received it. Should she show it to Regina and Snape? They were sitting in the backyard, playing cards. It was too ordinary, too Muggle. It seemed all kinds of odd.

She got up. They should know.

The way within is without.

They would know what to do.

***

She had red hair and was wearing some kind of black dress. Her back was facing him, and she looked as though she were mixing something in a bowl. They weren't in any ordinary kitchen, so Harry doubted she was cooking. Well, it looked like Aunt Petunia's kitchen at first, but there were subtle differences that made it not the same kitchen at all. She was humming something that sounded like a lullaby, something that pulled at Harry's heart and edged him closer.

He had to be dreaming. He didn't have a physical form, and he was standing there aware of who he was and that he wasn't actually part of the dream, not as an acting character. He was merely an observer.

Harry had thought she was mixing a potion at first, but smells slowly resolved. It certainly didn't smell like any potion he had ever made in Snape's class. He had smelled this before, but for the life of him couldn't place it.

And then he slipped forward, hands reaching out for the redhead. Harry was dimly aware that he was part of the dream now, an active player. But now, looking through the woman's hair, he was also losing grip on his own consciousness and sliding into someone else's, whoever had been reaching out to hold this woman. The light glinted off the strands of hair, making it seem like molten gold in front of his eyes. He leaned into the crook of her neck, closed his eyes and sniffed. He loved the smell of her and the smell of the cookie dough. It was a Muggle thing she had introduced him to, something that he had grown to love right along with her. How had he ever gotten along without her? Why had he never realized how perfect she was? "Mm... Are you going to put chocolate chips into this batch, Lil?" he asked.

She put the bowl down and turned around within his embrace. She kissed the stubbly cheek she was presented with, and smiled. She flashed him a mockingly stern face. "James, I just made those..."

"The baby ate it all."

Lily Potter laughed and shook her robes loose. "The baby most certainly did not," she said, exposing her very pregnant belly.

"Er... That sympathetic pregnancy thing you said. That."

She laughed again and hugged her husband close. "You're so silly..."

"Of course. All of the Marauders are."

Lily was quiet at the statement. "We'll be all right, won't we?"

James stilled at the words, and Harry felt himself be pulled back outside of his father's body. He was a shapeless observer again. He watched his father kiss his mother (good thing i wasn't in there for that) and turned around.

Ginny was there, standing next to the fireplace in a yellow dress. Her hair was longer than it had been when he had last seen her, and she seemed even stronger in spirit now. "They had love, you know," she said quietly. "It was something that kept them safe, something that bound them together in life and in death. They were so much younger than they should have been, to have a love like that."

"Ginny?"

She smiled softly. "Practice. Patience. It will all be over soon enough, Harry. You'll get what you need soon enough."

Harry stepped forward, reaching out for her. It seemed as though she were too far away, that he would never reach her. "Gin, what's happening to me? What's going on? I don't understand what's happening."

"You wanted to see what you've missed."

It had to be dream logic, but this made perfect sense. "When's it my turn? When do I get to be happy? Or do I die alone and miserable?"

Now why did he have to spoil a perfectly good dream and say something like that?

Ginny's eyes were the same silver of mirrored glass, and somehow Harry found it comforting. He knew how this worked, that the silver only reflected himself back out of her eyes so that he could see as she could see. It made perfect sense in that odd kind of way. Dream logic again. "You'll find her soon. She won't be what you expect, but that's good. She complements you, she gives you strength when you need it."

"So I won't be alone?"

Ginny smiled an enigmatic smile. "You were never alone, Harry. I think that's something you never realized. You never had to be alone."

And then Harry woke. For the first time in weeks, he finally felt rested.

***

Draco was dreaming. It was the only way to explain it.

Ginny was sitting at the picnic table in Regina's backyard, wearing the yellow dress from her vision and looking up at the sky. "You know what you need to know and you know what you need to do. You know it in your bones."

"They're going to die, aren't they?"

Ginny looked at Draco, her eyes silvery mirrored pools. He hadn't wanted to know who they had been, but now he did. "You carry my heart, and I carry yours. We bear this burden, we know what we must do. Don't falter in your duty to yourself."

"And you? What about you? Will you be safe?"

"Safe as houses. I'm not back in time yet. I won't be, until later."

Her hair was too long, he realized that now. How much time did she actually spend learning to hone and control her skills?

Ginny was standing next to him now. Draco hadn't seen her move. "It's going to be all right, Draco. You'll know what to do. The dragon will spill fountain blood, and he will weep silently for it."

Draco felt his lips tremble slightly. "I'm afraid, Ginny. What do I do?"

"You are the dragon that has never been slain. You are the one that will carry on."

"And you?"

"At your side, where I belong." And then she smiled. "You aren't getting rid of me that easily, you know."

He woke when they kissed. It was dark in the room, the blankets twisting around him. The only way out is through, the only way out is through, the only way through is out.

Draco curled his right hand into a fist and rested it against his beating heart. Become all you wished you were, reject all you wished you weren't. I believe in you.

Maybe those words hadn't been for him, but he knew an order when he heard one. The role of the Seer was to guide, not to tell. The role of the Seer was to observe and bear witness, to know what would be and how to prepare for it.

He knew what he had to do.

***

She had fallen asleep pondering. The only way out is through.

She was sitting in a massive library surrounded by medical tomes. She was older, probably wiser, and certainly didn't look as though she was studying for an exam. Hermione was probably not in an apprenticeship or in some kind of university. She was reading about brain trauma, a description of signs and symptoms. The language didn't look familiar yet.

"Bella donna, scusi," someone said, handing her a letter.

Hermione Granger-Weasley.

Intrigued, Hermione watched herself open the letter. It was written in code, of course, but it made her smile. The porter had slipped back into the far reaches of the library. Hermione slid into herself as the letter rearranged itself into words she could read.

I hope you're enjoying Italy! Bring back plenty of books for the kids, they want to learn Italian now. Look at what you've started! Seriously, I want to let you know that we all miss you, and when your fellowship is finished that you should STOP. No one else knows more than you do, and no one else is challenging you for the position. No one else deserves it anyway!

I miss you. Come home soon.

Ron

She had to smile. She was remembering her girls, curly redheads with a wicked sense of humor and a voracious appetite for knowledge like their mother. There were two boys as well, their hair a dark red shade. They were more serious than their sisters, but could definitely be pranksters. They did much better at Hogwarts classes than their father did, but that was most likely her influence. They definitely were Quidditch fans, and took to flying naturally. They often played with their cousins, and were probably there right now.

Hermione sighed. She hadn't told Ron that the fellowship had been over a month ago. He probably guessed anyway. This was her third attempt at a fellowship to further learn about magical healing. She was always gently brushed off after a few months, being told that she already knew everything they had to teach.

Hermione looked up and saw Ginny sitting across from her, tracing the wood grain of the table with her fingertip. "Ginny?"

Ginny looked up and flashed Hermione a brilliant smile. "They're all so adorable."

"How did you get here?"

"You're not in Italy yet. Not for a while yet. But you'll be the best Minister of Medicine we've ever seen. No one else could do a better job."

"Did you Apparate here to remind me to come home?"

"Nope. I'm just reminding you of how much you know, how good you are. You already know everything you need to know to succeed."

"It never feels like enough. It feels like as much as I know, there's something else I need to learn. I never feel like I know enough."

"You can't know everything. You're not expected to. But you're expected to do the best you can with the tools at hand. You're a gifted girl, Mione. You need to forget the idea of being a walking library and learn to see what's right in front of you."

"Which is?"

"You're needed here and now. You are needed with the knowledge you already possess, with the skills you have."

"I'm not good enough..."

"No. You're fine just as you are. You need to let go of the idea of perfection. There is no such thing, and we can't attain it if it did exist."

"I know this, but..."

"No but. Let go. Feel. You can't be afraid to feel. You need to feel your patients' pain, you need to feel the ebb and flow of life, you need to feel your friends and family. You need to feel emotion. You can't be afraid of it."

"I lost her," Hermione said, voice trembling. "My little baby girl..."

"Hermione. You have others that need you too. You can't sacrifice your soul for this."

And Hermione thought of her baby, dead within a week after catching a deadly disease that had swept through the magical community like wildfire. She had developed a vaccine, but it had been far too late for Deborah.

"Prove to the world she didn't die in vain. Prove to us that you're still our Hermione."

Hermione felt words dry up in her throat. She didn't feel like herself.

"She wasn't meant to be, Mione. She was meant to make you fight for a cure."

"There is no cure."

"It's only a matter of time."

Hermione looked up with tears in her eyes. "She wasn't even here a week."

"You'll see her soul again. You'll know her and love her again."

"Ginny... You don't understand..."

Her eyes had gone silver, and her hair streamed from her head in impossibly long ribbons of red. "I see everything, Mione. I know."

"I feel her everywhere..." Hermione whispered. "You can't know what it's like..."

The way to escape is the way to embrace....

And Hermione was standing at the cliffs of Dover, looking over them at the sea. Her daughter's ashes had been scattered here. Her children had been solemn and hadn't cried. She had cried enough for all of them. Ron was at her side, the support she refused to take.

And Hermione was laughing along with Ron, stomach huge with a pregnancy almost run its course. They had picked the name Deborah Lissanne Weasley, sure it was too large a name for such a small baby. Everyone else had been sure she would grow into it.

And Hermione was sobbing into Ginny's arms, all the pain she had refused to feel, all the grief she had refused to accept. Ginny's arms closed around her tight, and Hermione felt herself being rocked. They were back at the Burrow now, and Hermione didn't question it. Ginny's eyes were silver again, and that always signaled her spooky Seventh of Seventh magic.

"You forgot to live. You forgot to be. You cannot forget, not for all our sakes."

When Hermione woke, all she remembered was that she was married to Ron Weasley, she was a triply-awarded Mediwitch of the first rank, in the running to be the Minister of Medicine, the first Muggle-born up for the election. Ron had thrown her a large party, and their wonderfully beautiful redheaded children, had been there. She couldn't remember if there was anything else in the dream, only that she had everything she ever wanted.

Sometimes, knowing the future altered it in its course.

***

Ron was dreaming. He was pretty good at knowing this, given the fact that his waking life had gotten very confusing recently. His dreams were simple.

He was in the Burrow, but it looked so much larger and neater than it had when he was growing up. Twin girls were running around in the backyard, two boys were also running around, chasing each other. He was watching them through the kitchen window, keeping a close eye on them without being too overbearing about it. That was something his mother used to do often, claiming she was doing the dishes and merely looking out of the window. He now realized it let the children believe they could play freely, but it also allowed him to feel as though they were safe and nothing would happen as he watched.

Hermione had come home the day before and was still tired. She was done with her research, she had said, and would start writing papers soon. For the moment, she was just happy to be home and back with her family again. She looked happier than she had been in the past year, and whatever it was in the Italian air, it agreed with her. Ron had been glad he had let her go. She had obviously needed time away from constant reminders of her loss. Their loss, really, but she felt it even more keenly.

He didn't mind it, really. She had always been too smart, too happy sitting in dusty libraries with old books. He was more of an action type of person, and had become an Auror right away. He had taken to the job naturally, and over the years had done well for himself. His father would be retiring soon, and was Ron was considering taking on the Muggle Relations Office in addition to his Auror duties. He had a much better idea of Muggles now that he was related to them by marriage, and felt that he could bring his perspective to the office.

Ginny knocked on the kitchen door. "Ron?"

"Oy, Gin! Good to see you."

She was laughing at him. "Ron, step away from that window. I know what you're doing, and they'll be just fine."

Ron laughed self-deprecatingly. "I thought girls were supposed to turn into their mothers, not the boys."

"Oh, I use that trick, too."

"How are the kids, Gin?"

She smiled beatifically, her eyes turning silver. "They are all going to be wonderful."

"So what's the visit for? Not that I don't like to see you, but Mione just got back home yesterday..." Ron trailed off.

Ginny only smiled her beatific smile. "You just needed a little break, to see how good things can be. That's all."

"Huh?"

"You worked really hard studying, even if it was something you hated. I just wanted you to see a little slice of future, to see it was worth it."

"Oh, that mermaid magic stuff? I know. Harry needed us for support, too. He always thought he had to deal with things alone."

Ginny smothered her laugh. "Sometimes you have more insight than you should."

"Mione says that all the time."

They laughed together, and Ginny gave her brother a hug. "They're less dangerous than Fred and George, you know. They'll be safe."

Ron sighed. "I know. But at the same time, I can't help but feel so overprotective of them, like I should shut them away to keep them from getting hurt."

"Everyone needs to grow up sometime."

Ron nodded and gave his sister a hug. "I accepted it with you, didn't I?"

"Eventually," Ginny said wryly. "Don't worry, they'll be fine."

"Thanks, Gin."

Ginny kissed Ron's cheek. "What else are little sisters for?"

"I won't answer that one," Ron said, waving as Ginny left the kitchen. He felt much better already, the knot of worry dissipating. He went upstairs to see how Hermione was doing. Maybe she would be up from her nap...

***

The Potter boy was going to be the death of him.

Snape felt his lips curling into a sneer. Voldemort was dead, and the boy still seemed to behave as if nothing would ever make up for his dead family. Spoiled brat. Did he really think he was the only one to have lived and lost?

He stopped short. No, this wasn't right. He had gotten Regina back. They had made up, she had forgiven him for his stupidity and he had forgiven her for her obstinacy. They had made up, they had decided to start over. He wasn't alone, he hadn't lost her.

Snape felt the Dark Mark on his forearm, and held it in a tight grip. This wasn't right, this couldn't be right. It had to disappear. She would have made sure Potter could kill Voldemort, break his power and release his hold on the Ministry. The Dark Mark shouldn't exist, shouldn't light up in pain this way. He wasn't a spy anymore. He had finally gotten what he wanted, he had gotten Regina back, he could have his family now.

When he looked up, Ginny was standing there, wearing a yellow dress. Her long hair hung loosely down her back, and she was smiling at him. "She's waiting for you to wake up and let go of the ghosts you carry."

"Miss Weasley?" Snape asked, confused.

"You need to carry your heart to her, not your fears. She crossed an ocean and the lines of death to be here. The least you could do is come to her with a clean heart."

Snape squeezed his arm so hard he thought the bone would break. "I don't know if I can."

"Of course you can," Ginny said with a smile. "Just close your eyes. You need to accept what happened, take it into yourself."

"It's not right..."

Ginny began to sing, and she had a lovely voice. "I carry my love across the deep blue sea, I carry my heart upon my sleeve, I know I'm bringing her back to me, I know it's her that I need. I carry my love across the deep blue sea, I carry my love right a-back to me..."

Why did Snape feel as though he were breaking?

"To bring her back to you, you need to accept yourself as you are. Flawed and proud, certainly, but also strong in your beliefs, in your protection of what you love. You've already proven yourself to her, she just needed to see it. And you do, too. You need to accept the past as done, as what led you to become the man you are."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you've already redeemed yourself. You don't have to be perfect to have worked through your past, and you don't need absolution. But you haven't understood yet what it means to be truly free of the past."

"I'm not free of it," Snape said. He was horrified to hear his voice crack.

Ginny only smiled softly. "Yes, you are. When the true day is done, you are free, truly free, and able to do what you wish."

Snape felt something ease within his chest. Had he really been so easy for her to read? I carry my heart upon my sleeve.

When Snape turned around, there was Regina sitting on her desk. "Gina?"

She was laughing at him. "What took you so damn long?"

Snape found himself laughing along with her. "I don't know. I really don't. But I'm here now, and it's going to be better."

"Damn right," Regina said, hopping off of the desk. "We're free."

This time, he was really starting to believe it.

***

Keiko was sitting in the center of the room wearing a formal kimono. She was waiting for Regina to arrive, and wouldn't leave the room unattended until then.

When Regina did finally arrive, she took off her shoes and knelt in front of Keiko. "I've arrived in time, haven't I?"

"Hai. The ceremony shall begin soon."

"It's an honor to have this privilege."

Keiko looked up and smiled, the only part not previously rehearsed. "Ravana, to become part of a greater clan is an honor we share with you. This is only the beginning of the great alliance between our illustrious houses."

Regina nodded, and bowed her head low to the ground. Keiko stood, and then walked to the door behind Regina. She pulled the sash free, and let the kimono fall to the ground. She walked two steps forward, then jumped into the saltwater pool outside of the room. She shifted into her mermaid's shape and swam towards the meeting pool.

When Regina looked up, it wasn't the midsummer ceremony she had been invited to. She was kneeling on a tarp in her living room, knife in hand. She was preparing to slit her throat from ear to ear again.

Regina dropped the knife and stepped off the tarp. She spun around wildly, seeing the house around her as if for the first time. The tarp disappeared, and she heard voices upstairs in muted conversation. Regina bounded up the stairs and opened the door to the master bedroom, sure she heard her parents' voices.

Severus was reading to a little boy from a Muggle fairy tale book that had once belonged to her. It was the story of the Little Mermaid, as told by Hans Christian Andersen. Regina relaxed slightly, and leaned into the doorframe. She listened to the lilt of Severus' voice as he read, liking the sound of the accent and how it softened the harsh words. Their eldest son Sebastian loved Muggle fairy tales, and wanted to research their origins in the Wizarding world. It was his greatest passion at the moment, ever since he had found out that Muggles hadn't gotten all of the details right.

Their other sons were downstairs, running around and playing. Samantha was in her crib in the nursery, sleeping soundly. It was a rare quiet domestic moment, one that Regina wanted to hold onto as long as she could.

The phone was ringing. Selphie. She was the only one that would know the number to this house that would actually call it on her day off. The others at least respected her need for quiet now that Samantha was born. Selphie just didn't care, since she always knew the right time to call and talk. Regina picked it up, smiling already.

"She's not allergic to bees, is she?'

The smile died on Regina's face. The wind was knocked out of her. "What?"

"My daughter. We used to be your neighbors. You did something to her all those years ago, didn't you? She's not allergic to bees, is she?"

Regina thought of the little blonde girl's purple face. "She is, isn't she? I don't remember, really. I was little. It was so long ago."

"Liar!" the voice spat. "You lying little bitch. You nearly killed her out of stupidity!"

Something stupid was going to happen. That was the only explanation, even if this dream wasn't completely the same. Something was going to happen.

Regina put down the phone in mid-rant. She wouldn't listen. She had gotten the message already, something stupid was going to happen.

Ginny was downstairs, holding Regina's baby boy, barely even three months old. "I'll take care of him as if he was my own," she was saying solemnly.

The walls were stone, the air was cold. It seemed as though they were in the Slytherin dungeons at Hogwarts. But that couldn't be right, could it? Regina turned fearful eyes to Ginny's calm face. "You'll keep him safe? You won't let anyone get to him?"

"I'll guard him with my life," Ginny promised. "It's all in the books."

Prophecy. Future. Everything laid out in neat little lines.

"Save him, Ginny. Just keep him safe. He's more important than I am."

Her eyes were silver, the color of mirrors and prophecy. "You have your role to play, Regina. You will play it, and things will end calmly."

This is the way the world will end, the world will end. This is the way the world will end, not with a bang, but a whimper.

***

It was the equivalent of three months of intensive study. It was lessons and shortcuts and reengineered spells. It was practice, practice and more practice. It was learning how to think in magic, see in magic, breathe in magic. It was learning how to anticipate the enemy. It was becoming something other than mere teenagers.

It was time to go back.

***

Regina guided them all out of the front door and walked down the street. They looked at the houses, the press of trees against the pavement, the occasional telephone pole or mailbox. She stopped two blocks away from the house they had lived in for three months, and Hermione looked back. She knew you weren't supposed to, that looking back made everything real and could force spells into action. She knew she should have kept her eyes on Regina, but couldn't help herself. She needed to see it for herself, needed to see the house disappear.

It was already gone, as if it had never existed.

Regina was standing and looking across the street. "The house used to be here. That one, the one with the green paint. That was where my house was." It looked completely different, more colonial and less Victorian. "There was this girl next door. She moved in, we became friendly but everything had to be her way. She was one of those kinds of girls. You always know someone like that. She has everything she ever asks for, whenever she asks for it. Only a fool would ever tell her no. That kind of girl."

"Gina?" Snape asked, touching her arm. "They don't need to know."

"The only way out is through," Regina replied softly. She turned away from the house that wasn't hers and had never been hers. Her eyes were hidden by her bangs, and she was looking at some point behind them and to the left. "What happens when you're young and magical and you get angry?"

"You lose control," Harry said quietly. "Things happen that you don't mean to."

"What did you do, Harry?"

"Locked my cousin in the snake exhibit at the zoo. Grew my hair back out after my aunt gave me horrible haircuts. Little things like that."

Draco seemed to be measuring Harry's worth, seemed to like what he saw.

"Hermione? What did you do?"

She looked startled by the question. "Mirrors would shatter when I looked at them. Fires would start in the fireplace or the candles would light. I don't understand..."

"I killed her." Regina's voice was deadly calm as she looked up at them through the fringe of her bangs. "All I knew of death was that the breath stopped and the heart stopped. No breath, no pulse. Then she would shut up and leave me alone."

There was stillness on the street, and Snape touched her back in silent support.

"My mother was watching over us playing in the park. She saw what happened, ran over. She twisted reality. Because of me, that girl is allergic to bees. And I can't even remember her name now. I remember her face. Sometimes, when I'm about to do something stupid, I dream about her face turning purple. I remember what I did to her." Regina turned to Draco. "You asked why control is important. That's why."

"How old were you?" Ron asked, tone quiet. Being from a magical family, nothing scary or drastic had ever happened to him when his magic began to manifest.

"Seven. So when Briarwood started, so did I. I needed to learn control."

"Why are you telling us this?" Hermione asked.

"So we don't do something stupid, isn't that right?" Harry asked. He looked oddly calm at Regina's words. "I understand the message. We have a job to do."

"Harry... Pretaxa qui reen." Silence before wisdom.

He flushed slightly, but held his stare. "Let go of all you once could have been but can be no more," he said softly. "I remember."

Regina pursed her lips, trying not to laugh. This was too surreal. The dream had to have been a warning against this, then. She shouldn't have thought Selphie meant her to tell about the neighbor girl when she was seven. Oh well. Too late to take it back. The only way out was through, after all.

"We'll be careful," Ron promised. "But we should be getting back now. Time is moving again, and the Death Eaters will be at the castle."

"Yes. But we have a long way to go, first."

"What do you mean?"

"We need to get a few things from Claire's shop. We also need some time differential before we show up. If Voldemort doesn't feel confident enough, he won't step foot on Hogwarts property. So we're going to do this in real time, then once I've got the stuff, I'll open up a Portal for us from the shop's back room."

"And what are we getting?" Draco asked. His voice was deceptively lazy.

"You'll see when we get there."

He remembered seeing her in the office at the house, poring over her old notes in tattered spiral notebooks or tomes that looked older than time. He remembered how she had been hunched over the desk, chewing on her nails, scratching at her scalp in thought, writing and writing and writing. She had condensed years of vital and esoteric knowledge into a three month course of study. She reworked spells to make it easier for them. She taught them how to see magic, the ebb and flow throughout space. She taught them how to look outside of time and into the source of power.

Draco knew that sometimes you had to suffer in order to appreciate control. Sometimes you had to die a little in order to truly live. Sometimes you had to have a secret in order to see into the souls of others.

He understood, and he knew what it had cost to admit her failings. He wasn't sure he would have done the same. It took more courage to follow through to the end than to sit back and do nothing. He wasn't sure the Gryffindors would appreciate that kind of bravery, but knew that he did. Whatever happened in the castle, he knew what true bravery was, that the battles within were just as important as the battles without.

He could only hope that the others understood as well.

So they took the bus to the Kew Gardens subway stop, then took the train to the West 4 Street station. Regina set a quick pace, even with the bus and subway ride of just under two hours. She had assured them that it was fairly quick for a weekday, but they hadn't been completely sure of that, and just took her word for it. The teens ogled the neighborhood and the people walking around in it. Regina walked into a shop with crystals and books in the front window. It was named "Featherstone Practical Magick," and seemed a lot larger on the inside than it had seemed from outside.

"Claire," Regina called out after poking through the shop. It had originally been only a bookshop, but had expanded to include New Age and magic items. "Claire, it's Gina!"

A Native American woman ran into the shop through the beaded curtain. She looked as though she had run a far distance, and was slightly out of breath. "Gina, I was packing the shipment for you. Everything's set."

"The kids?"

"Just fine, looking nice and comfy in the playroom." They both grinned at each other, and Regina gave Claire a hug. "Well then, what else do you expect of the loyal bunch?" Regina dug into her pocket for her wallet, then peeled off a few hundred dollar bills. When Claire tried to protest, Regina shoved the money into her hands anyway. "Consider it room and board, then. It shouldn't take too long, but then Sel should call you when it's over."

"Yup. Don't worry, we got everything under control. You have your heart and flame, and the Black Egg?"

"Of course. I'd never trust it left behind. You never know who'll run through your stuff when you're gone and out of the way."

"Then all is going to be fine. My kids love the guests, and we're all doing well. Don't worry about any of us stateside."

"Sweet. I'll see you soon, then."

"Absolutely." They hugged again, and Claire waved at the stunned teenagers. "See you all real soon!"

Then the six people were ushered into the back room for the Portal.

***

Hogwarts was never this quiet, not even during holidays. The Portal emptied the six people and a shrunken box somewhere in the middle of the Slytherin dungeon.

The castle's foundations rocked as Regina enlarged the box to its proper size. The teenagers all looked at her expectantly. Snape merely looked grim. She sighed, and stared at the door to the abandoned classroom. "It's begun."

***

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