Incubus

The End of the Trio

She smiled at him as she often did.

He was such a happy, well-natured and beautiful little boy.

She had plunged herself into his life, and never looked back. He laughed, she smiled; he ate, she was satisfied; he hurt himself, she fretted; he slept, thank God, so did she.

She wasn't negligent to a present father figure either. 'Uncle Harry' spent many days babysitting, while she worked. He didn't have anything better to do, until a new Dark Lord came around.

How she ached to be away from him. What would become of him when she was gone?

Why did she have to go so soon?

It was just one more reason to hate that bastard. Perhaps he'd die before her, and then Jack could go to his Godfather. Harry was the one who deserved to have Jack, he was the one who loved Jack, and spent every day with Jack. He was the one that Jack adored. He didn't KNOW what a father was. He knew only her close friends, who shared the most special places in her heart.

She wondered if HE had a cure for what he'd passed onto her. If he did, Dumbledore had no clue what it was.

Thought, there might be a chance for Jack. He wanted nothing to do with his son. He had been sent a statement by her lawyers. He told his lawyers, who told her lawyers, where she and her son could go. He had told them that they weren't getting so much as a knut out of him. She winked at him when courts forced him to pay a very hefty sum each month. Just so long as she never had to see him again after that last day in court.

She had spent much precious time in court, unbeknownst to Harry and Jack, decidinghere Jack would go on her expected death. She hated that bastard. She hated the fact that if he chose to, he could swoop down and steal him from her very funeral. She hated seeing him act so smugly.

She was quitting her job today. She'd spend her last years devoted to Jack.

She'd give him as much of her time as possible, before law demanded that either Jack go to his father, or his father abdicate responsibilities onto her parents or Harry.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

They both lived in a beautiful little house. It was more of a cottage, which was secluded from the whole world.

It was small, valued and cosy. There was a great fireplace in the lounge room that heated the whole house. There was always a fire burning when she got home. Harry was always there, playing with Jack. Jack was his best friend these days. Ron would come by on the weekends with his wife. Crookshanks could always be found on a sofa near the fireplace. The house always smelt like freshly baked bread.

The best kind.

Onions, breadsticks, garlic and pots hung from the ceiling of the kitchen in great bundles alongside lavender and other herbs left to dry. Shelves filled with oddments in bottles and jars, a large cauldron hanging in the corner. Doug the cactus sat absorbing sunlight on the windowsill.

The whole cottage was surrounded by the most pristine green hills with shrubbery. Cows, sheep and horses could be seen in the surrounding pastures.

They lived the perfect isolated life, and Jack knew nothing of an outside world.

He knew nothing but that everyone around him loved him and indulged him with as much time as they could. He knew nothing but kind words. Knew nothing of a world full of hate or a world where bad things happened. Hermione couldn't stand to get cross with him, even when he was in his most naughty state of mind.

It was only a few years before Hermione became sick, and began remaining sick. She'd catch the simplest of colds and the commonest of flues.

She began to have restless nights, filled with nightmares.

Dreams that her son would be thrust into a giant cave filled with the most wonderful riches in the world. Amazing objects that drew him in deeper and deeper. Into the darkness he walked until he came before something that was sinister, like a black hole surrounding him. Its eyes were the only visible part of it and they stood several feet high, close to the cave wall. Two shimmering jewels that seemed greater, more expensive than any item in the cave. Without warning it let loose turrets of fire onto her precious son.

He withered and screamed and became a lifeless, charred, smouldering wreck on the cave floor. From his tiny body, something moved.

She could never see what it was, for she always awoke, screaming.

The next day she was feeling more sick than usual. The nurse, hired to see to her, was forced to hand feed her the morning's breakfast.

Jack bounced in that morning, like he did most days and jumped onto the bed to hug her. She winced but he couldn't see as his head was buried into her shoulder.

"Mum, can you come outside and play today?" he asked.

"No, Mummy's not feeling well," she replied sadly.

"Please!" he cried, tugging on her arm. "Come! Come! Please come, Mum! Please!"

Harry approached the room, having flooed into the lounge room.

"Come! You have to come!" he pleaded.

"Morning Hermione!" Harry said.

"Mum, I want to go play outside, just this once?" he whined.

"Morning Harry, how are- Jack stop that, Mummy's talking," she replied.

"I want you to come out and play with me today!" he screeched while tugging more on her shirt.

"Feisty this morning, isn't he?" Harry said light-heartedly.

"Mum! Come out and play!" he said tugging her whole arm.

"Jack," she said plaintively, "no! I can't go and play with you today."

She didn't mean to be cross. She didn't want to be. Her temper was so short these days and it was so early in the morning. As all only children, he wasn't used to the word 'no' and he was used to getting what he wanted.

"You're always sick these days! You won't even come outside and play!" he said, throwing down her hand.

"Hey, kiddo," Harry interrupted, "why don't we go outside and play. We'll come back later when your Mum's feeling better."

Harry was looking almost as tired as Hermione was. He had black circles under his eyes, as he spent most of his time at Hermione's cottage, cooking, cleaning and taking care of Jack. Hermione's father was deathly ill and her mother was spending her days looking after them both, suffering from panic attacks at losing two of the most precious people in her life simultaneously.

Harry took his arm and walked him out of the room. Jack looked back at his mother and caught a glimpse of her looking out of the glass pane.

Her bed was right next to the window with white, ornate curtains hung on either side. The light burst through the casement, as if hugging her. The bed was neat and she was propped up in it. There was a little oak side table to the left with a doyley and a small box rested on top of a large, brown book. At the foot of the bed there was a large bookcase filled with his mother's favourite books, all hardback as they were her favourite. So many Muggle and Wizarding classics there, she'd read many of them to him. On the wall with the door in it, opposite to the bed was a large dresser with her jewellery box on it and many photographs of Uncle Harry, Uncle Ron and his Grandparents in them. Keepsakes were stored under the bed.

She didn't look as they left, just stared out the window, and Jack remembered every detail of that room perfectly for the rest of his life.

That was the moment that he understood, to a degree, what everyone had been trying to tell him. That his mother wasn't getting better. Unfortunately, he was still too young to understand what that really meant. He just knew that he was meant to be sad, and in many ways, he was.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When she had him sit on the end of her bed and told him that she'd be leaving soon - forever. He hadn't thought she meant so soon.

Two weeks later and she didn't wake up one morning. Refusing to go to any hospital until the very end.

It had to be explained to him many times, and he still didn't get it. He still didn't understand why she just couldn't wake up. What had changed? What had happened? How was she any different from yesterday? She looked the same. She just looked like she was sleeping. Everyday she'd managed to wake up and hug him - what was so different about today? He hated her for not waking up.

He was an orphan, except for his Uncle Harry, who stayed with him.

That's when everything changed.

She was buried. It was a very small progression, but Jack didn't know that because he had never known many people at all. To him it was a lot, though probably fifteen in total. On that very day, a man stalked into the gathering family. They were outraged. Some were telling him off for daring to come in. Others were leaving the room.

The man didn't care one bit.

He caught sight of Jack's uncle and sauntered up. He had a pale, pointed face and blond hair. His nose was a lot like a rat and Jack had never seen the likes of him before in his life.

"Potter," he sneered. He looked from Uncle Harry to Jack and back again.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Uncle Harry said, with a tone of voice Jack had never heard him use before.

"Legal issues regarding it," the former replied. "Still moping around with nothing to do?"

"Don't start with me, Malfoy," Uncle Harry replied. "You're just lucky Ron's not around or you'd be dead. I'd just shut my mouth if I were you."

Uncle Harry put a hand on Jack's shoulder protectively and drew him near. The stranger must have seen this, because something dawned on his face. Jack didn't know what it was, but it made him uneasy.

He looked at Jack and did something peculiar. He leant down to Jack's height and looked into his eyes.

"Do you know me, boy?" the man asked.

Jack shook his head.

"So," he replied, "the little slut has told you nothing of me?"

Uncle Harry hit him, square in the jaw. Jack didn't understand it. Didn't know what 'slut' was. Didn't understand why he should know this stranger. What he did see was that Uncle Harry was extremely angry, and for some reason, he himself was extremely angry. He knew he shouldn't like this man and that this man was here for bad things.

The man looked furious, reached into his pocket for something. Then, it seemed that he changed his mind. He straightd his robe and smirked. He turned around, gave everyone a quick nod, before he walked out the door.

Jack had never been so confused, and had never seen his uncle so angry and out of control. Jack didn't understand his emotions, had been told he'd never see his mother again. Wondered why she hadn't loved him enough to stay. He was confused about so many things and the only thing to do seemed to be to stand in a corner and think. He cried, then he was quiet, and soon he cried again. It seemed almost too soon that the stranger had returned with a friend, waving paper around. One day Jack would find out that friend was a top barrister, and that order was for custody of Jack.

"We'll, I'll just be off with my boy, then," he said, almost cheerfully.

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" Harry asked viciously. He looked scared. "You told the lawyers you want nothing to do with him."

The man's smirk increased. He looked so happy. Kind of like when Crookshanks caught a mouse.

"Oh, but I've changed my mind. I have every right to. Let's see if I can't make a proper son out of him," he said. "Always wanted to try out my fathering techniques. So I'll just be off with him. Have a nice day, Potter."

He spat the last words, took Jack by the hand and started for the door. The whole room went into panic. Jack was too stunned to fight or break free from the pincer-like grip. He saw his Grandparents, Uncle Harry and Ron and everyone he loved, lunging after him.

Uncle Harry was rampant.

"You can't do that! You won't get away with this, Malfoy!" he samed, chasing after them.

Jack tried to reach for Harry, stretched his arm, cried screamed and kicked. Wailed through tears and pulled at hair. Didn't know where he was going but knew it was not a good place to go to.

It was the last time Jack saw Uncle Harry for a long time.