Love's Battle Revisited

Chapter 1 - Return to England

Beta'd by Mayila (aka Maya) from Perfect Imagination

It was ten years after their flight from England, and both Harry Potter and his wife of ten years, Hermione Granger-Potter, believed it was time for them to return home. Of course, they couldn't be sure of just what kind of reception to expect, especially considering the way they had left; they could only hope for the best. In retrospect, Harry was sure they could have gone about it differently, but at the time he was too eager to get away and be alone with her to consider the possible ramifications of their impulsive actions. Unfortunately, these same ten years had changed both of them--and not for the better.

The feelings between them, feelings they had been certain would last through eternity, had been gradually dying over the last six months of their sojourn in America. Of course, both were too stubborn to admit it at the time; besides, it wouldn't be good for their girls, nine-year-old twins Lily and Helen, for them to split up. Of course, it could be even worse for children to grow up in a broken home. But there would be time to deal with their domestic problems once they had settled back in England.

Both had recently received owls from Hogwarts Headmistress Minerva McGonagall asking them to return and teach at the school--Harry as DADA instructor, since that was what he knew best, after all his years having to deal with Voldemort and Dark magic, and Hermione, who was qualified for most any subject save Divination, as Transfiguration professor, especially since McGonagall couldn't do both that and be Head of the school. Really, they couldn't have made a better choice for Transfiguration; as McGonagall had said, Hermione was second only to her in Transfiguration expertise. Too bad she couldn't have been as good a wife as she was a teacher, Harry thought wryly.

Hermione's sharp voice brought him back to reality. "Harry! Come help me! Helen's gotten herself stuck in a tree again!"

"Be right there," he called back, knowing how much Hermione had disliked flying on brooms, every bit as much as he loved it--one of the many things they disagreed on. Another thing they disagreed on was her penchant for following rules, and Harry's penchant for disregarding them when it suited his purpose, just as his father James had. When it came right down to it, though, Harry knew that he loved to learn; he just wasn't fond of having to go to school to do it. He preferred to learn by doing, not in a classroom setting. His nightmare of a fifth year had taught him that lesson well.

It took roughly an hour to get Helen out of the tree and calmed down, and in the midst of it, Hermione had had to leave for her job as Transfiguration instructor at the Boston Institute of Magic. It was an all-girls school, but strangely enough, had a male principal, as they were called in America. And a fairly young and good-looking one at that--so much so that it gave Harry cause for concern, especially since Hermione's hours seemed to have increased dramatically since this man had been hired. He couldn't be sure, but he suspected that she just might be having an affair with him. If that was indeed the case, it might be a good idea to go back to England, if only to break up that relationship.

It wouldn't be easy to have to work with her or any other former classmates who might have been taken on as instructors in the intervening years, but he would simply have to make the best of it. He could only hope that Ginny hadn't been one of them. Harry really hadn't been fond of the idea of her ending up with Draco, his lifelong nemesis, but at the same time, had noticed the blond Slytherin's growing attraction to her, so when Hermione had suggested they do some matchmaking before starting their own new life, Harry hadn't argued too strongly with her.

Nor had he been happy to have seen Ginny throw her arms around Draco and kiss him, but there wasn't anything he could have done about it at the time, even had he wanted to. He had been too much in the throes of raging new-found hormones for it to matter very much, just as long as Ginny was taken care of and had someone to look after her, especially should anything happen to her parents or brothers.

Even at that, though, there had been many times he had had nightmares concerning those two--mainly involving her truly falling in love with Draco and wanting to stay with him, even turning Harry himself down in order to remain with him. Of course, considering the rumour he and Hermione had spread about their both being dead, for them to suddenly show up again after ten years would be both a shock and probably infuriating for her--especially if she learned just why it had been done.

It was also probably unrealistic for Harry to expect Ginny to want to have anything further to do with him, and truly, he wouldn't blame her if she didn't--but really, she was his only other alternative, since the vast majority of girls, now women, he had known while at Hogwarts were long since married and happily so. He could only hope that Draco had managed to make Ginny happy, but with his being a Slytherin, he couldn't be sure of that, not one bit.

At the time, though, Harry hadn't considered it of much concern to him; all that had really mattered was in essence, burning bridges behind them so he and Hermione could go on with their lives in a new country. Granted, they had needed to change their names and appearances to a degree to maintain their anonymity, but with both of them being magically gifted, Hermione particularly so, that wasn't too hard to do.

In fact, it had gotten so that they were only completely themselves when at home. Otherwise, Harry wore coloured contacts which changed his eye colour from green to brown; Hermione had even figured something to hide his scar, at least temporarily. Not even their American friends and co-workers knew that Harry's eyes were really green, nor about his scar. He had even grown a mustache and short beard, but his hair was as messy as ever. But tomorrow was the day they would be leaving that home, and it was unlikely they would ever return, especially if things worked out and they were able to take up where they had left off.

They had written McGonagall back right away, accepting the posts, then began making arrangements to get their affairs in order and move back to the UK. Teachers had their own quarters at Hogwarts, as he well knew, but they were in a whole other wing than the student dormitories for the four Houses. Nor could Harry be sure just what kind of living arrangements he and Hermione would have once there, having been essentially estranged the last six months. The only real ties between them were a rapidly unraveling legal one and their girls.

With luck, he would be able to enroll the girls in a school near the Burrow for a couple of years and they might be able to stay with the Weasleys until they were old enough to attend Hogwarts (he had naturally told McGonagall about them and she had made note of their birthday). Of course, this was assuming that the Weasleys were still on speaking terms with him.

It had been their understanding that he had planned to marry Ginny, and if they learned the details of his flight from England with Hermione--especially of his marriage and children with her--he'd be lucky to get away with his bits intact, much less anything else. Particularly if Gin's six brothers learned of his perfidy and took revenge on him for breaking their sister's heart and running off with her heretofore best friend after spreading the rumour that the two of them had been killed in the Final Battle.

But that was a chance he'd have to take, especially since there was no guarantee he would be able to come up with an explanation that they (or Ginny) were likely to buy. Harry was especially apprehensive about facing Ron again, since he knew all too well how much he had fancied Hermione, yet had allowed himself to fall in love with her as well--or so he had believed at the time.

It had been hormones, pure and simple ... yet he had let those hormones get the better of him, overwhelming his common sense and making him go off half-cocked, throwing away everything and everyone he had ever loved, simply for the chance to shag Hermione. He could only hope that Ron had managed to find someone to at least more-or-less replace her. If not Lavender, perhaps Luna.

The only girl he had ever truly loved was Ginny, Harry knew that now ... but how would he ever be able to convince anyone of it after what he had done? The elder Weasleys were very protective of their children, and what hurt one usually hurt the whole family, so they weren't about to allow perpetrators of any wrongs done to them to go unpunished. Especially if they were done to Ginny. After what he had done, Harry fully expected to get hexed into the middle of next year at the very least, if not have Fred and George cast their nastiest joke spell on him. Provided they even let him anywhere near the Burrow, that is. But as he'd already decided before, they could deal with all that once they were back in England. Right now, they needed to get ready to return.

The following morning, after magically packing up everything most important to them, including the girls, they had Portkeyed themselves and their belongings back to England. He and Hermione had actually agreed, which was a rarity these days, that it wasn't a good idea to try to fly all the way back on their brooms, especially not across the blustery Atlantic, and particularly not with two children and all their belongings.

Upon reaching Hogsmeade, they got a room for the night at the local branch of the Leaky Cauldron, which they learned had been built about five years ago. Both Harry and Hermione prepared to meet with McGonagall the following day and make all the necessary arrangements to become the DADA and Transfiguration teachers at Hogwarts. It still seemed like yesterday to Harry that he had been there; the school had always seemed more like home to him than anywhere else he knew, other than the Burrow. It would be like coming home again--at least as far as he could tell at this point. The problem was, Harry had never heard of the old saying, "You can't go home again ..."

* * * * *

Leaving their girls sleeping in their hotel room, Harry and Hermione decided to drop by the white tomb which held the mortal remains of the greatest wizard who had ever lived and the best headmaster Hogwarts had ever had. This, of course, belonged to one Albus Dumbledore, who had been killed in Harry's sixth year by the very man he had always steadfastly trusted, despite everyone's (including Harry) warnings--and that trust had gotten him killed. He had never bought Snape's claim that he had acted on Dumbledore's orders, that the old wizard was dying anyway and wanted his death to do some good. To Harry, this simply proved that Snape had never truly been part of the Light, but had worked for Lord Voldemort the whole time.

They knelt before the carved words which spelled out Dumbledore's name, his birth and death dates and his greatest accomplishments after conjuring up a bouquet of flowers and placing it directly beneath the name. Harry even reached out and traced the letters carved in the white marble, tears filling his eyes even now. Ten years Dumbledore had been gone, and it still seemed like he had only died yesterday. The loss had left a hole in Harry's heart which he doubted would ever heal. Despite their differences, he had always looked up to the gentle and wise old wizard, who at the same time was the only person Voldemort had ever feared. Well, ten years ago the Dark Lord had had another wizard to fear ...

Which led him to the most painful decision of his life, to break up with Ginny. Not because he didn't love her anymore; he did, more than anything--but he couldn't risk her life, and anyone close to him was a prime target for Voldemort's wrath. The deaths of his parents, Sirius and Dumbledore had proved that; the last thing Harry wanted was to add her name to that list. He would far rather have had his heart cut out than to have walked away from her. It was the hardest thing he had ever done, but it was for the best ... to keep her safe.

They had shared several tenderly passionate nights together before his departure; she had looked so beautiful in her sleep as he held her that it was hard for Harry not to cry. He loved her so much! Why did things have to be this way? Why did he have to be the Chosen One--the one who always sacrificed, the one who always did without, the one who always lost the people he loved most? But most importantly, why did he have to be the only one who was capable of destroying Voldemort?

Why couldn't he have been just a normal teenager whose biggest worry was whether or not he could get his girlfriend to shag him? The answer was simple; he was Harry Potter. From the day he was born, he had never been what one would call normal ... instead, he had been a marked man from the time he was fifteen months old and had somehow survived the Killing Curse which had claimed the lives of his parents.

Voldemort himself had said that what had nearly killed him that day was the power of love, the bond between mother and child, Lily's blood sacrifice for her son, the oldest magic known to wizardkind. Even Dumbledore had said that love was 'the power the Dark Lord knows not,' the kind which would vanquish him for all time. A power that Harry had in abundance--or so it was claimed then. Now, Harry couldn't help wondering.

"Harry? Are you all right?" Hermione's voice was laced with the most concern Harry had heard directed to him in a long time.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just got ... sentimental for a minute." He pushed himself to his feet. "We'd better get to Minerva's office. She's no doubt waiting for us."

"No doubt," Hermione agreed.

With that, they turned and began to make their way up to the castle. They both knew it so well that even after ten years, they could have walked to the Head's office blindfolded. After giving the password Minerva had provided them in her last owl post, 'cinnamon roll,' the gargoyle leapt aside and they made their way up the winding stairs to the Headmistress's office. Upon their knock, McGonagall's voice came back, "Come in."

They opened the door and walked in; McGonagall smiled and greeted them with a handshake. "Harry, Hermione. So good to see you again. Merlin, have you two ever changed!" She was one of the few who knew that they had not really died ten years ago; Dumbledore's portrait had told her of their plans shortly after his death. The Final Battle had happened six months later, roughly two months into what would have been the Trio's seventh year, which they had naturally chosen not to finish, Harry and Hermione especially considering vanquishing Voldemort far more important ... at least at first.

It was shortly after this that they supposedly realised they were in love and decided to let the world believe they were dead, having been killed in the Final Battle, in order that they be able to start new lives elsewhere. They had also left a letter with McGonagall suggesting that she and Dumbledore recommend a discussion with Draco, since both Harry and Hermione had noticed his growing attraction for Ginny, and suggest that he approach her just after she had been told of Harry and Hermione's supposed death.

Dumbledore had not agreed with them, warning of potentially dire consequences, but both young people were strong-willed and determined; nothing he said could move them. All he could do then was wish them the best of luck and hoped they didn't end up regretting their rash actions. Minerva had not agreed with their decision, either, but there had been no way for her to stop them. Like Dumbledore, she could only hope for the best.

"Ten years will do that to you," Harry replied with a smile. "Now, I believe you said you had jobs for us?"

"Yes. You know why the DADA position is open, just as why the Transfiguration position is open. Since Voldemort has been defeated, the curse that has been on it for over fifty years should be gone and you should be able to hold the position as long as you like. Same goes for the Transfiguration position. Just the same, you know that I'm here if you need any advice on either position. When can you start?"

They had been told in one of the owl posts that "Mad-Eye" Moody, the real one this time, had been teaching DADA again and Grubbly-Plank Transfiguration, but they had just recently retired, just after the previous term ended in June, leaving the two posts open. Harry and Hermione had been informed of same the previous month (it was now roughly a week before the new term started, in late August).

"How about a week?" Hermione suggested. "We need to get settled in and see to the care and education of our daughters, as well as prepare lesson plans."

"You have daughters?" came the almost incredulous question, as if she'd somehow forgotten the girls' existence.

"Twin girls, fraternal, named for their grandmothers, Lily and Helen. They're nine years old."

"Which reminds me," McGonagall said then. "Harry, you said you wanted them to attend Hogwarts when they were old enough."

"That's right," he confirmed. "Then I may assume that they may expect letters at the proper time?"

"Of course," she assured him.

"Are there any other new teachers this year?" Harry inquired, unconsciously holding his breath.

"Two others beside yourselves. Neville Longbottom in Herbology and Ginevra Weasley in Charms."

The impact of this last name hit Harry like the proverbial ton of bricks, but he couldn't allow himself to show it, particularly not in front of present company. "May I ask what happened with the original professors, Sprout and Flitwick?"

"Retired last year, both of them," McGonagall replied. "Though I'm sure you'll do us proud, just as Mr. Longbottom and Ms. Weasley have."

And to their dismay, Harry's heart took an unexpected leap upon suddenly hearing a sweet, musical voice he had not heard in ten years ... Ginny! How would she react when she saw them?

"Minerva, this schedule you gave me is far too heavy. I'd have to almost literally be in two places at once to be able to pull this off!" Ginny dashed in, not noticing Harry and Hermione at first, her gaze fixed on McGonagall.

"Well, don't worry, Ms. Weasley. We have two new teachers which will take at least some of the burden off you." McGonagall gestured to Harry and Hermione; he was unable to help swallowing hard when Ginny's head turned to look at them. She was stunned speechless at first, then her eyes widened in astonishment. When she regained her voice, it was a shadow of its former exuberance.

"Harry? Hermione? Oh, Merlin, it can't be ... it can't be!" The next thing any of them knew, Ginny had crumpled to the floor, unconscious, the depth of her shock at seeing two people whom she had once believed to be dead sitting before her alive and well having proved too much for her.

Harry was the first to reach her side, although he hadn't made it quickly enough to have caught her before she hit the floor. Once he did, though, he picked her up and placed her in the nearest chair. McGonagall conjured up some water to help revive her and passed it to Hermione, who gave it to her. When Ginny finally regained consciousness, she looked up and stared intently at Harry and Hermione, both of whom were looking at her worriedly.

"Are you okay, Gin? Didn't mean to shock you like that," Hermione apologised. "But our decision to come back was so sudden that we never had a chance to let anyone know."

"But how can you be here? How is it possible? Dumbledore said you had both been killed! We held a memorial for you and everything!"

"I'm afraid there are a few things you don't know, Gin," Harry returned with an apologetic air to his voice. "Things you're not going to find easy to hear, to put it mildly. All I ask is that you reserve judgment until you've heard us out--and try not to judge us too harshly, although I wouldn't blame you if you did. What we did was foolish and thoughtless, but at the time we thought it was for the best, and no matter how it may have seemed, never meant to hurt anyone, least of all you. Minerva, if you'd close the door, please, and put a Silencing Charm on it?"

McGonagall did as Harry directed, then the three turned back to the still-stunned Ginny, who now wore a look which was a mixture of expectancy, apprehension and wariness. "All right, I accept the fact of Harry and Hermione being alive. Now will somebody please tell me just what the bloody hell is going on here?"

"We never died," Harry made himself confess. "At some point during the Final Battle, Hermione and I realised that we had ... fallen in love." Or at least we believed we had, he added silently. "It was for that reason I could not ... return to you, Gin, and honour my promise to marry you. For that I am very sorry. I can only pray that someday you will find it in your heart to forgive me. It was then that we decided it was best if you and the others thought we had died in order that we ... Hermione and I ... depart England in order to start a new life for ourselves in another country. We have been living quietly these past ten years in America. Only when Minerva owled us and told us of some open teaching positions did we decide to come back."

Ginny looked just as stunned as before, but managed to stay conscious this time. "I see. Did you ... get married?"

Hermione raised her left hand to show the diamond solitaire Harry had given her. "Does that answer your question?"

Ginny nodded. "Do you have ... children?"

"Two daughters, fraternal twins, age nine, Lily and Helen, named for their grandmothers."

"What kind of work have you been doing?"

"I worked in the Department of Mysteries in the American version of the Ministry of Magic; 'Mione has been a Transfiguration teacher in an all-girl school of magic in Boston, Massachusetts, where we ended up settling."

"Where are ... your daughters while you're here?"

"Still sleeping in our hotel room in Hogsmeade," Harry informed her. "They've told us they want to go here when they're old enough."

"Well, if they're anything like you two, they'll excel, I'm sure," Ginny made herself say, having to force a smile even as the realisation of what had actually happened ten years ago finally sunk in. "But why couldn't you have come to us--Ron, me, and the family--the Order--told us your change of heart? Why the coverup?"

"As I said, we thought it best for everyone concerned at the time," Harry returned lamely, knowing it was a weak defence at best, but also knowing it was the only one he had. "Gin, I'm very sorry to have led you on, then let you down. Nonetheless, I hope you've been ... doing all right these last ten years."

"Oh, yes. I got married to Draco, as it seemed that you two must have wanted. Why else would he have been close by just after I'd been told that you'd died?"

"I knew he was attracted to you too, and our deaths would leave you and Ron free to find people who truly deserved your love and devotion."

"And you thought Draco ... deserved me? You always hated him. How could you possibly want me to be with him?"

"I didn't, really, but time and options were limited. That's all I can say right now. Now tell me, how did things ... work out between you?"

"As I said, we got married about six months after the Final Battle and had three children, one girl and twin boys. Incidentally, Lucius died last year in Azkaban and Draco is now CEO of the company he founded."

"What about Ron?" Hermione finally said. "Did he ... ever find anyone?"

"He and Luna got together about the same time Draco and I did," Ginny explained. "They have two children, a boy, Ron Jr., now five, and a girl, Molly, now three." All at once the magnitude of what had happened had hit her, and she needed to get away from them to think things through. "Sorry, but I've got to go now. I have a class to teach in less than an hour."

Harry and Hermione smiled and nodded, allowing her to leave, then turned back apprehensively to McGonagall, questioning her with their eyes. What was going to happen now that Ginny knew they were back, and just why they had spread the rumour of their deaths and left for America so suddenly? They naturally hoped for the best, but couldn't count on it--and neither would they blame her if she and all the others ended up hating them for all they had put everyone through over the last ten years. Neither of them could say for sure until they saw her again and surmised what her attitude was at that point in time.