Marked

Hermione took a deep breath before stepping out of the Floo into the Gryffindor common room. It looked much the same as it had the last time she'd seen it--the same sofas, chairs and tables, the same paintings looking down at her. There was one new addition. In a corner, next the bulletin board, someone had placed pictures of Neville and Harry side by side on a table. Neville's picture showed him walking into the Yule Ball with Lavender on his arm. Harry's was a more recent one of him sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall--Hermione could see the jagged edge of his scar just beneath the fall of his hair. On the table in front of the photos were a little more than a dozen candles.

Hermione walked over and smiled when she saw the collection of small scrawled notes scattered among the candles. She couldn't bring herself to read any of them, but she had an idea both Harry and Neville would've appreciated the gesture. Staring at Harry's photo, she resisted the urge to remove it from the table. That would come, in time.

She turned to Neville's photo. "I'm sorry we couldn't save you," Hermione whispered. Then she turned away from the table, left the common room and headed downstairs towards the Great Hall.

Several heads turned when Hermione entered the Great Hall. She felt a moment's regret that she hadn't insisted Lily or Sirius accompany her, but she knew they both had something more important to take care of that day. Ignoring the whispers that had begun, she stalked down the wide aisle dividing the rows of benches until she reached the row near the front where her friends sat. "Is there room for me?"

Ron looked up at her, surprise widening his red-rimmed eyes. "Professor McGonagall said you might not be coming." He moved over to allow her room. He scratched absently at the bandage covering the wound on his face. "I thought it might be too much for you."

Hermione leaned forward to look past Ron. She waved at Parvati and Lavender on his other side. Both girls still had faint scars on their arms and faces, but appeared otherwise unharmed. Physically, at least. No amount of makeup could cover the puffiness around Lavender's eyes, but the girl looked as if that was the least of her concerns. After she'd greeted Hermione, her eyes returned to a portrait of Neville propped on an easel at the front of the room, just before the podium. He was laughing in the photo. Hermione imagined if she closed her eyes, she could practically hear the familiar sound. As she watched, Lavender's eyes filled with tears and she let them fall down her face unchecked, nodding as Parvati whispered to her and rubbed her shoulder.

"I wanted to say goodbye to him as much as anyone else," Hermione said. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's been three days, Ron. I know I was upset the last time you saw me, but why would you think this would be too much for me?"

"Because of Harry," Ron said. "I don't know why, but McGonagall cancelled his funeral. It was supposed to be right after this one. Maybe his mum didn't want to have another public service, but I thought she'd at least allow his friends a chance to say goodbye."

"Of course there's no funeral," Hermione stated. "Harry's not dead." Hermione leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes briefly at the gasps of those around her.

"Hermione," Ron began, "I know what you said the other day, but--" The expression on her face as she turned to him made him pause.

"He's at Sirius's house, resting." Her tone was firm, but her lips trembled as she spoke.

"What?" Lavender turned to her, confusion making her focus on Hermione for the first time since she'd sat down. "What are you talking about? We saw their bodies."

"I knew it," Parvati said. "What did you do?"

Ron simply stared at her in silence, confusion and fear at what lengths Hermione might have gone to rendering him speechless.

"I didn't do anything," Hermione said, sitting up straighter. "I said it the other day, Voldemort couldn't take Harry from me, no matter what he did." She took a deep breath and glanced around her. In spite of their hushed voices, a number of people around them were listening to the conversation. "His injuries may have been severe at the time, but when we got him back to the house, we found that he was still alive and we were able to heal him. Which reminds me," she crossed her arms, "that shrine in the common room is beautiful, but Harry's picture needs to come down. It gives people the wrong idea."

Ron put a hand on her shoulder which was quickly brushed off. "But, what--"

"Shh," Hermione said. She pointed to the front of the room as Professor McGonagall stepped up to the podium. "It's starting."

Hermione was grateful Ron chose not to question her lies further, but she could tell from the way he continued staring at her that she would be hard-pressed to escape after the funeral without giving him a much better explanation than the one she'd come up with minutes before. Really, how could she expect anyone to believe the Boy Who Lived had died at Voldemort's hands and Harry Potter hadn't? Especially someone who knew the full truth about him.

She would deal with it when the time came. That was one thing she and Lily had agreed on--no one outside of the two of them, Dumbledore and Sirius would ever know the full truth. And Harry, of course. That was the only justification for all of this lying. Dumbledore had promised her that by the time she came back to the house, he would be awake and possibly strong enough to get out of bed. His body was whole and his mind would recover from the shock of what had happened soon. That was enough. It would have to be enough.

"I can't take this anymore," Lily said as she paced. She stopped in front of Harry's bedroom door again and swore. "This waiting is driving me crazy."

"Are you sure that's not guilt you're feeling?"

Lily turned and glared at Sirius. He glared back and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You don't understand." She resumed walking in front of the closed door. Her footfalls echoed against the wood floor.

"Yes, yes. I don't have children. I've never lost anyone like this. I couldn't possibly understand what would make you and Hermione desperate enough that you'd want to do something like this to your own son." Sirius met Lily's responding glare with another of his own before crossing the hall and grabbing her by both shoulders to hold her still. "Do you really think he's going to react with resounding happiness when you've told him what was going on behind his back?"

"I think my son will be happy to be alive." Lily frowned and pushed at Sirius until he released her. "After all he's been through over the years, he will always be grateful for that much."

"You keep telling yourself that."

She frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means, what went on in that room," Sirius said, pointing at the bedroom door, "was nothing short of disturbing. I doubt your son will be happy about it, regardless of the outcome."

"Dumbledore says that physically he is fine. The potion we gave him a few hours ago will help him wake up and hopefully do something about the disorientation we expect."

'That is not--"

"As for ethical concerns," Lily said, interrupting Sirius, "if you had such a problem with what we were doing, why did you allow us to do it in your house? I didn't hear you blathering on about how upset Harry would be when I first told you we had a way to save my son."

Sirius laughed shortly. "Is every conversation we have about this going to end the same way? Are you always going to bring it back to this?"

"It's a valid argument," Lily shot back. "You've been longing to treat him like a James substitute ever since you found out Severus had killed my husband. When we found out we could save him the way we couldn't save James, you couldn't be bothered telling us how wrong it was or that we might want to wait until our grief was--was--"

"Your grief is still controlling your better judgment, but you're right, I should've said something sooner," Sirius said. "That doesn't change the facts. This could go horribly wrong and you, of all people, should've known better."

"What I know is that I'm going to have my son and there are no more threats to him, at school or anywhere else," Lily said. "I'll worry about everything else if the time comes."

"Is there something to worry about?" Lily and Sirius turned as Hermione ran up the stairs and down the hall towards them. "Has something happened?" She glanced at the doorway. "What did Dumbledore say?"

"Nothing so far," Lily said. "We're still waiting."

Hermione visibly relaxed. "I'll be in my bedroom when...when there's news."

"I'll come get you," Sirius promised. She nodded before continuing down the hall and around the corner.

When Hermione had been gone a minute, Lily said, "If you want to blame anyone for this, why don't you start with the person who originated the idea?"

"Come off it, Lily." Lily looked up at Sirius in surprise. "You and your son's girlfriend have had your differences, but you can't expect anyone to pin all the blame for this on her. The two of you have more in common than you're willing to admit." He crossed his arms. "You can't have forgotten how much you were like her at her age. When you finally came around to liking James, you wouldn't let anyone get in the way of the two of you being together. You ignored his and your friends' opinions and the fact that his mother couldn't stand you, especially after she caught the two of you--"

"What is your point?" Lily hissed. "So, we're both...determined."

"Stubborn," Sirius corrected her. "Focused on the immediate. A stickler for rules unless they get in the way. Perhaps a bit too smart for your own good. And you both love Harry more than life itself." Sirius reached out to Lily and touched her chin, turning her face up to his. "You were both so desperate to have Harry, you were willing to do something this crazy to keep him. It's about time you accept her as much as you're willing to accept this now third incarnation of your son."

"Is that all you want? For me to accept her?" Lily pushed his hand away. "I can do that. I just need my son back."

"And thanks to her, you'll have him," Sirius said. "But at what cost?" When Lily didn't answer him, he said, "I'm going to read a bit." He headed towards the stairs. "Let me know when Dumbledore finally comes out of there."

Harry screamed and shot up from the bed. His eyes darted around the room before finally settling on Hermione sitting next to him. "Neville is...we have to get to him soon. I don't think he can take much more of this."

"Shh, Harry, it's okay." Hermione grabbed his sweaty hand in both of hers and pulled it close to her chest. "Don't worry about Neville right now, just lay back and relax."

"Hermione, what are you going on about? I can't relax, I--" He closed his eyes as a wave of dizziness swept over him. Hermione gently pushed his shoulders back until they met with the mattress.

"I thought you said he wouldn't be confused," she whispered. "Do we tell him now or wait?"

"I believe we should wait until it becomes necessary."

Harry opened his eyes as Dumbledore spoke. The older wizard was standing in the doorway of the bedroom, wringing his hands.

"What is going on?" Harry asked. He looked at Hermione again. She squeezed his fingers and attempted a small smile. Lily stood just behind her, the same fake smile plastered to her face. "Did something happen? Have I been sick? The last I remember, I was..." Harry stopped and closed his eyes. "I was telling you, all of you, that I'd found out from Voldemort where they're holding Neville and we can go rescue him. Why," he opened his eyes again, "why am I still here? I need to go." He glanced back at Dumbledore. "I know you think we have to fight him together, but maybe what I've been seeing is a sign that I should fight him by myself because Neville isn't strong enough anymore." He frowned when he glanced at Hermione and she immediately looked towards the Minister.

"What's happened? Why isn't anyone answering me?"

"Harry, there's something we have to tell you." Lily moved to the other side of the bed and took Harry's other hand in hers. "The fight has already taken place. Voldemort is dead."

"What?" Harry's gaze darted around to everyone in the room in confusion before finally settling on his mother. "I don't understand. I don't remember fighting him, but--"

"Shh." Hermione squeezed his hand again. "She's not done."

"It was several days ago," Lily continued. "A number of people died, including your friend Neville."

"I don't believe you," Harry said. "Why can't I remember anything?" He snatched his hands away from Lily and Hermione and struggled to push himself into a sitting position. "The last thing I remember is standing in the kitchen talking to Dumbledore just before we were supposed to leave." Harry frowned. "Was the fight so bad you had to erase my memory?"

"Oh, Harry no, we--" Hermione swallowed hard. "I wish we could erase every bad memory you've had. There are so many of them. I thought I had a real idea what you'd gone through, but--"
"Miss Granger, perhaps you'd better leave the explanation to me." Dumbledore stepped closer and stopped at the foot of the bed. "You also died the other day, Mr. Potter."

Harry stared at him a moment in silence. "But--"

"I had taken steps to create a Horcrux for you several weeks ago, stored your memories and have spent the past several days putting you back together, so to speak. You do not remember the fight because the body and mind you possess now did not experience any of it. The last memory you have is the last I took from you, when we were downstairs just before leaving."

"This is a nightmare," Harry said. "Or hell. That's where I am, right? Because, to tell me I've died and Neville died and my soul is in a new body can't be real." His eyes began to tear. He raised a hand to his forehead and ran his fingers over the spot where his scar was supposed to be. "What did you do to me?" he whispered in a shaking voice.

"It's okay," Hermione pulled his hand away from his forehead. "We found a way to save you. You're going to be fine."

"You just need another day or so to rest," Lily said. She touched Harry's shoulder. "I know this is a lot to get used to, but--"
"Leave." At Harry's order, Lily and Hermione glanced at each other. "Leave," Harry repeated, glancing at the two of them. "And send Sirius in here. I think I need to talk to someone else."

Hermione pouted, but withdrew from the bed, joining Lily and Dumbledore at the doorway of the bedroom. "I'm going to come back and visit you before dinner." When he did nothing but glare back at her, Hermione slipped through the bedroom door and closed it behind her, for the first time letting worry enter the scenario she'd created.

Several hours later, Hermione knocked on the bedroom door, opened it slowly and then peeked her head around. "Sirius said you asked for me."

Harry nodded and motioned her over to the bed.

As she approached, she offered him a tentative smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired. Still a little bit confused." Harry drew his arm across his body when Hermione reached for his hand. "I think you have some explaining to do. Sirius didn't know everything, but he said you would have all the answers I need."

Hermione sat next to the bed. Harry was remarkably calm, considering how he'd been yelling at the three of them earlier. Perhaps he was finally ready to listen. "I was worried about you, especially after I did the Arithmancy charts on you and Neville. Now I know why the calculations sometimes showed you alive after last Friday and sometimes they didn't. It was because there was no certainty that we would save you." Hermione smiled. "But now you're here and Dumbledore says this body is almost exactly like the one you had before."

"This isn't a real body, this is an abomination."

Hermione reached out to touch his forehead with a shaking hand. Harry brushed her fingers away. "This is a clean body, untouched by a curse, not carrying a part of someone else's soul."

"It's also untouched by my mother's love and protection, the one thing that saved me before," Harry said. His eyes searched her face. "Is this what you wanted? I'm not even human now, I'm like him."

"That's not true. You're not like him! Of course you're human."

"I was dead, Hermione. That's what was meant to happen. How could you do this to me?"

"How could I do this?" she shrieked. "You did it to yourself. The day you murdered Professor Snape."

"For the last time, it was not--"

"You murdered him," Hermione said, cutting him off. "You may have saved several lives while you were doing so, but that doesn't change the facts. You decided several days ahead of time what you were going to do, you gave him that potion and you made the choice to take his life. It wasn't in self-defense."

"So you turn me into this? Was it really that hard for you to accept what might happen? You were lying to me all this time and--"

"I never lied to you! I just didn't tell you because..."

"Because you knew how I'd feel," Harry finished for her.

"No. I knew you could not accept what you'd done," Hermione corrected him. "Do you remember that day at the hospital when Dumbledore explained how Horcruxes were created? He had been trying to tell you what you'd done then, but you wouldn't listen. The moment you cast the spell to kill Snape, your soul split itself. That's why you were in so much pain. They had to keep you knocked out for two days because you were screaming so loudly and there was nothing anyone could do. It wasn't a physical ailment they could cure."

"Answer the question, Hermione. Was it your idea to turn me into a freak of nature?"

"It was my idea to find a way to save your life, yes. When Dumbledore came to the hospital to explain, I guessed what had happened. The day he did the medical scan, he confirmed it. That was when we created a Horcrux with the prophecy globe. If you had been at all sorry for what you'd done, it would have been possible to put the split pieces back together," she added. "Painful, but still possible."

"I thought only I could create my own Horcrux," Harry said. His eyes narrowed. "How do I know Dumbledore didn't split my soul himself?"

"Only you can do that to yourself," Hermione said. "If it was that easy, we could have saved Neville too."

"I can't believe you did this to me," he said after a moment's silence.

Hermione looked away from Harry. "I'm sorry I loved you enough to want to save you--even from yourself," she said. "I love you in spite of what you did to Snape."

"But you--"

"Yes, it was my idea!" Hermione shouted, standing next to the bed. The chair tumbled to the floor behind her. "Dumbledore knew how it could be done safely and your mother gave her permission. You can fault all of us for doing it behind your back, but never forget you're the one that gave us the means." Without another word, she turned and stormed out of the bedroom, slamming the room door closed behind herself.

Several minutes later, Lily walked up the stairs and sat next to Hermione, a cold feeling coming over her as she observed her son's girlfriend sitting with her legs curled on the top steps, her face pressed against her knees. Lily cleared her throat and waited for Hermione to acknowledge her. "He's still upset."

"I think he hates me for what I did." Hermione lifted one hand and wiped at her face quickly. "I don't blame him. I knew he might be upset about it, but I thought if no one got hurt when we brought him back that he'd...I thought he'd be happy we could save him."

Lily put her arm around the crying girl and pulled her close to her side. "I'm sorry he's upset with you. I know what you must think of me, but this isn't what I wanted. I never wanted him to hate you. I just want to know and love him as much as I did before."

"I wish you could too," Hermione said through her sniffles. "It hasn't been as easy for me as you might have thought. It's different because I've been around him almost constantly since school started. I'm not his family, plain and simple." She looked up at Lily and steeled herself not to cry harder looking into the same eyes that had been filled with resentment for her before. "As much as I love him and know him now, what we have will never compare to how he feels about you--especially since he grew up without you. Nothing I could do would ever change that, nor would I want to."

Hermione glanced over her shoulder at the closed bedroom door. "Now, I don't think either of our relationships with him will ever be the same." She looked back at Lily. "He doesn't care why we did it or how it was possible, just that we did. I can't undo that now and, in spite of how upset he is, I wouldn't even if I could. I'd rather have him alive and not speaking to me than have to bury him."

"My son is lucky to have someone in his life who loves him as much as you do." Hermione looked up in surprise at the words. Lily squeezed her shoulder and smiled softly. "I know I've been hard on you and I'm sorry. Really. I'll talk to Harry. He's probably still in shock after all that's happened, but I'm sure he'll come around. We just need to give him time."

Hermione nodded. "And space." Pushing Lily's hand from her shoulder, Hermione stood from the stairs and brushed the dirt from the back of her jeans. "Will you tell Sirius I won't be down for dinner? I don't feel well."

"Of course," Lily said. Hermione began to walk down the hall towards her bedroom. "We'll talk again in the morning."

A brief wave as she disappeared around the corner was the only response Lily got from Hermione.

Lily did not get the chance to discuss her son with Hermione again. When she went to check on her the next morning, she discovered that Hermione had packed her things and gone back to Hogwarts, leaving nothing behind but separate goodbye notes for Sirius and Lily and the necklace Harry had given her for her birthday.