Susan and Harry - Friendship and Secrets

Susan and Harry - Friendship and Secrets

Susan Bones knew all of Harry Potter's secrets.

She never quite could remember when it happened.

Harry had always been special, one of "them" - the ones you read about, the ones who did great things and strutted across the world stage. He was the Boy Who Lived, the fearless Gryffindor, aloof and untouchable.

He spent all his time flanked by Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Granger was mysterious; the Muggle-born who seemed to know more about the wizarding world than

most pureblood wizards and witches. And Weasley? Youngest son of a famous family, cursed with poverty yet respected by nearly everyone. All the Weasleys were larger than life in some way; Quidditch Champions, Head Boys. . .and after it became known that Ron had out-thought the best defense Minerva McGonagall could come up with in first year, it seemed that he would follow in the Weasley tradition.

No, no Weasley could ever be said to be boring - that became clear in second year, when Ginny Weasley had been possessed in some way by He Who Must Not Be Named.

For the first time, she had felt fear when she thought of Harry Potter. He had gone from being the famous Boy Who Lived to quite possibly a very real threat.

And yet. . .

She should have known- underneath the obvious anger when everyone thought he was the Heir of Slytherin, he was. . . hurt. The stares, the whispered allegations - they pained this young green-eyed boy. Surely, if he was the monster they all thought, he would be struggling to hide his pride at having the school in fear of him. A twelve year old boy just couldn't be that good of an actor, could he?

And then Granger was petrified, and the famous Boy Who Lived looked like his heart had been ripped from his chest.

Ernie. He could be so pompous sometimes - and yet, when he had apologized to Potter, stood up and took responsibility for what so many had said - Susan had never been so proud to be a Hufflepuff.

She resolved then and there to always try to give Harry the benefit of the doubt. She was beginning to realize that the boy was her schoolmate, not some abstract celebrity, and for some reason he always seemed to be facing horrors that grown wizards shouldn't have to deal with.

Maybe the Boy Who Lived was a real person, just like her.

And then came third year, and Sirius Black. Could the boy ever get some peace? Whispers flew about how Harry and Hermione had somehow disarmed the convict, only to have him escape yet again.

She knew, now, the story couldn't be quite right. She had spent three years now observing Harry, and he seemed strangely at peace. The nervousness that had been evident all year long vanished with the escape of Black - how could that be?

Clearly, there was more going on than met the eye - once again, Susan felt she was too far removed to understand.

Forth year. The Triwizard Tournament. A battered and broken Harry, holding the corpse of Cedric Diggory. People were dying. Idle speculation turned to fear - one of their own, the star of Hufflepuff, dead.

She wasn't in his year - and yet she knew that Cedric liked and respected Harry, although he thought Harry a bit strange.

A memory of Cedric, quieting down an argument in the Hufflepuff common room.

"Enough about Potter. The bloke's all right, if it wasn't for his sense of honor, I wouldn't be in this game anymore. Let's just be grateful our school has two champions - more chance for us to win!"

And now Cedric, golden Cedric, was dead. And Harry was alive.

There were more whispers.

Susan didn't believe them. She had been there - she had seen the terror in his eyes.

"He wanted me to bring his body back. . ."

What did that mean? Had Cedric known he was about to die?

Dumbledore's declaration that Voldemort was back - surely, this was the stuff of nightmares. Susan thought long and hard about the horrors her family had been subjected to at the hands of the Dark Lord.

That was when the questions from her Aunt Amelia had started.

"There is something terrible afoot - and I can't figure out why everything seems to revolve around a fifteen year old schoolboy who survived the Killing Curse."

Dementors in a Muggle town. Her aunt, sitting in judgment of her schoolmate.

Harry. . .what have you gotten yourself into?

She didn't speak to him much. She looked at him with sympathy now - there was something terribly, terribly wrong. Yet, she hoped in her heart that he was mistaken - or making it all up - or anything, anything other than Voldemort being back.

Ernie again. Saying to Potter what she felt. Thank God. Her conviction that Harry was totally correct wasn't as strong, perhaps, as Ernie's, but her heart went out to Potter no matter what.

Poor Harry, he was so isolated - and Ron and Hermione, so obviously drawing in tighter around him. Every time Harry's name was mentioned, they would tense, just waiting for someone who would say something against their friend, desperate to shield Harry against any more pain.

What could inspire so much loyalty? Sometimes, she thought that the Trio should have been Sorted into Hufflepuff.

The D.A. She had gone for many reasons. She wanted to keep Ernie company - his mouth would occasionally get him into trouble. And, if truth be known, she was a little bit selfish. Could he really, really cast a Patronus? Would she be able to learn that from him?

She tried not to think about the little voice that said she was joining just to be closer - just so she could understand.

Little things. Seeing him more often now, it was so obvious he was uncomfortable with attention. Except for Quidditch.

His face would light up when he heard a cheering Quidditch crowd. He basked in it.

And yet. . .

Mention Voldemort, mention the troll, the basilisk, or anything like that and the fidgeting would start. The more she heard, the more she knew he was some sort of great wizard - but did he perhaps seek out the attention?

No. He took no pride in it. If she had to guess, she would think that he just wanted it all to go away.

He wasn't aloof and untouchable, he was painfully, terribly shy. A lousy public speaker at first, his delivery would improve as he spoke, forgetting that he was talking to a crowd. Once he got rolling, his enthusiasm for teaching was pure and intense.

A few things didn't quite make sense.

Expelliarmus saved his life from Voldemort? Expelliarmus? For a moment, she thought he was playing with them. Yet, his expression was dead serious.

Maybe he was a bit crazy after all.

And then, the Quibbler article had come out.

Could it be true? It sounded insane. And yet, the detail. . .

Could he really make that up?

Avada Kedavra cannot be blocked, everyone knows that - but wait, Harry had said Expelliarmus had saved his life? Could this have been what he meant when he said that? Or was it all a finely constructed story?

It took a Ravenclaw to set her straight.

"Terry, I don't know what to think."

"The article is true. There can be no doubt."

"Why do you say that, Terry? What do you know that I don't?"

"It's all in the story."

Susan had almost lost her placid demeanor at that remark.

"But the story sounds insane!"

"Exactly, that's why it must be true." Terry's smug smile made Susan contemplate some behavior that would not exactly be in keeping with House tradition.

Sometimes, Susan really hated talking with Ravenclaws.

Terry saw the look on her face and had mercy.

"Look. The story is plainly crazy - it shows Potter must be a lunatic. And yet, Umbridge, and by extension the Ministry, is in a panic. They are doing everything they can to suppress it, when they have been trying to discredit Potter all year long. If the story wasn't true, they would be tearing it to pieces publicly."

That made sense.

"And besides, Emily did a bit of research in the restricted section. She found a variant of a spell to create a body in part from the blood of an enemy. Not used in centuries, because without a spirit, what good is the body? Yet, with some minor changes, it matches Potter's description. And we all know You-Know-Who used many means to preserve his spirit. I think things are going to get worse."

It was all logical. But Susan didn't want to think about it anymore. He couldn't be back, he couldn't.

And then her Head of House had given Potter fifty points for Gryffindor for passing a watering can. And that, more than anyone else, drove home to her that people she had the highest respect for believed every bloody horrible word that Potter said.

Susan realized she better put her doubts aside and start believing it as well.

The Department of Mysteries. Horror. Death. The Hospital Ward, full of injured students.

The Daily Prophet, admitting what everyone now knew.

He was back.

There was some good, Susan thought at first. Finally, people had listened to Harry. And, of course, although there had been some injuries, no one on Harry's side had died.

But why, then, was Harry looking like death warmed over?

Earlier that year, she had attempted to console him, sharing her story of loss. Perhaps an expression of support was called for, again.

She sought him out, heading towards the Gryffindor common room. She would have to wait until someone came through, but surely she would be able to get some Gryffindor to run up to his dorm and get him.

She found a Gryffindor. Ron Weasley was heading back.

"Hi Ron. I was just wondering if I could talk to Harry for a minute."

Ron sighed. "He's kind of not fun to be with now. Can it wait?"

Susan suppressed a tinge of annoyance. Just who did Ron Weasley think he was, anyway? Was he Harry's personal appointment secretary or something?

She looked at him more closely. He was weary. And what were those welts on his arms?

What happened there?

"I. . .just wanted to thank him for the DA this year, and to tell him that we're all here for him. And even though you were a bit roughed up, at least everyone knows the truth, now. And that monster Sirius Black is dead!"

Ron stiffened. A flurry of emotions crossed his face, and he wordlessly took Susan's arm and guided her to a more secluded area.

"Look. . .Harry's in a bad way right now. Maybe you can cheer him up. Just please, please, don't say anything about Sirius Black."

"I don't understand."

Ron's face twitched, and he seemed to come to a decision.

"Look, I don't know how to tell you this. We've had to keep it secret, but it doesn't matter now. Sirius Black was innocent. He never betrayed the Potters. He was Harry's godfather, and for the past few years, he'd been acting as Harry's guardian. And he died fighting Death Eaters, he died defending Harry. And the only reason we all went to the Ministry was to help Harry save Sirius, because Harry thought that You-Know-Who had captured him."

Susan attempted to digest this.

"Sirius Black. . .innocent? How can that be?"

Ron gave a weak smile. "Peter Pettigrew killed all those Muggles. He was the Potters' Secret Keeper, Sirius was trying to capture him when Peter blasted the street."

Susan could have slapped herself for the sheer stupidity of what she said next.

"Are you sure? I mean. . ." Her voice trailed off.

Ron gave a harsh laugh. "Yeah, he broke my leg when we first met, by accident of course, but Sirius and I go way back. It all happened third year."

"But. . .but, why did you three never say anything? I mean, how could you listen to everyone say all those horrible things about your friend?"

"Well, we tried, but that git we have for a Minister wouldn't believe us. And Hermione realized if we kept talking about Sirius Black's innocence, we would be watched. And Harry wouldn't be able to communicate with his godfather. Better to lay low, keep our mouths shut, until we had more proof. That's why I'm telling you, there's no need for secrecy now, and I'll be damned if I go one more minute denying what Sirius Black was to Harry."

His godfather. That explained why Harry seemed such a mess. And Harry led everyone there? The guilt and loss. . .how could one person deal with it?

"I want to see him."

"Go. It'll mean more coming from you. There's so many people trying to be his friend now, but people like you who stuck by us in the DA when everyone else doubted. . .well, it'll mean more coming from you. Just don't mention Sirius unless he does."

Ron had led Susan up to Harry's dorm and left. They had talked briefly - well, it was more like Susan had talked, and Harry had grunted every now and then.

The boy was shattered, she could see it.

Finally, she had sat up, prepared to go. She had said her piece, and it seemed to have no effect.

A hand shot out and stopped her.

"Can you just stay for a bit? I don't want to be alone. Please."

Harry's voice was barely a whisper.

So she sat there, saying nothing. The sound of their breathing filled the room, and nothing else. Harry didn't acknowledge her at all - he just stared straight ahead, with that lost look in his eyes.

Awkwardly, slowly, she reached up and started stroking his hair. She heard a rush of air escape him, and he slowly settled against her. They sat like that for a long time, him leaning against her chest, just breathing. Eventually, he fell asleep.

She was struck by how different he looked asleep. His face was peaceful, innocent. Until now, she hadn't realized how troubled he looked all the time now.

She thought over everything she knew about Harry.

She realized that he most likely had no memory of a mother's love. This young man had no one to turn to. He had Ron and Hermione, but she couldn't imagine Hermione knowing what to do with such a broken soul.

She wasn't attracted to him in the slightest. Yet, she felt an urge to take care of him that he couldn't explain.

She made up her mind. She would be his friend, if he would have her. She wouldn't ask for anything - Harry had given too much already, she didn't know how he could have anything left.

She quietly left his dorm room.

Later, a tired Ron Weasley had sought her out.

"What did you say to him? That was the first time I've seen him sleep peacefully for days."

"Nothing. I was just there."

Ron considered that for a moment. "Oh. Well, thanks. He doesn't open up to anyone, you know?"

Susan lay awake that night, thinking about loss, and pain, and war.

That summer, horrible things started to happen. Susan was removed from them, but the Prophet was full of horrors, and her aunt was more serious than she had ever seen her.

And then, Hedwig would come.

His letters were juvenile, meaningless.

Hi, how are you, I want to play Quidditch again, did you hear about the Creevy's?

The weather here is nice.

Dudley has been leaving me alone.

They were short, never more than a paragraph or too, and largely meaningless.

She knew what they meant. He was desperate for human contact, and didn't know what to do.

So, Susan wrote. She spent hours trying to strike the proper tone in her letters, and she didn't mind that the letter she spent three hours composing was answered with another letter of only a few sentences. She told the story of her family, and the losses she suffered, and that letter had been rewarded with a long, rambling essay of Harry trying to explain how he felt about life, and loss, and all of the terrible things he seemed to be at the center of.

In sixth year, when they went back to Hogwarts, there was a new understanding of sorts. Harry was closer to the trio than ever before, but he would sneak out in his invisibility Cloak to just sit with Susan and chat.

He had been so hesitant to tell Susan of his relationship with Luna Lovegood. Susan thought she understood that. Harry needed Susan as a friend, and he didn't want Susan to get jealous.

He needn't have worried. Susan didn't like him in that way.

At first, Susan was at a loss to understand Harry's love for the unusual Ravenclaw girl. Later, she understood.

Harry would talk with Susan about Sirius, and his schoolwork, and she would help him pick up little gifts for Luna. Sometimes, she could even make him laugh. On those rare occasions, Harry was like a normal sixteen year old boy, and it made Susan glad to know that she could have that effect on him.

Susan knew Harry's relationship with Luna was getting serious. She didn't laugh when Harry haltingly, awkwardly, started asking questions about what girls liked.

Susan liked Luna. And Luna liked her. She would occasionally sit with the wide-eyed Ravenclaw at lunch, smiling and listening to her talk about everything and nothing.

Outside Hogwarts, there were more attacks. More deaths.

One day, Susan had been startled by Luna dropping her customary vagueness and staring directly into her eyes in a way that chilled Susan for some reason.

"I'm counting on you, Susan. Ron and Hermione can only do so much. If anything ever happens to me, you need to hold him together or he'll break, and I will be very upset."

Susan had promised to take care of Harry, no matter what.

A moment later, Luna had returned to her dreamy self, and presented Susan with a small bracelet made out of seashells and colored pebbles. Susan had taken the gift, and even wore it occasionally, gaudy though it may have been. Every now and then Luna would see Susan wearing it and smile.

Her meetings with Harry grew more frequent. Susan didn't quite know what to make of the fact that Harry and Luna were going to give up their virginity. Harry would bombard Susan with questions, and Susan would pass on what small bits of wisdom she had gleaned from listening to the seventh-year girls who seemed to know so much more. Susan was woefully ignorant in matters of the heart, but did her best to bolster Harry's shy confidence.

For a brief time, Susan thought her friend Harry had forgotten about the war outside. He seemed almost happy.

And then there had been the visit to Hogsmeade.

Susan was in her common room when a tearful fourth year had come to find her. Not many knew of her friendship with Harry Potter, but the girl had thought that Susan should know.

Death Eaters had attacked Hogsmeade. Luna had jumped in front of dual Killing Curses that had been meant for Harry.

Harry had gone berserk.

Her friend, the shy, troubled sixth year Gryffindor, who wanted nothing more than to fly his broom and think of new ways to make Luna Lovegood smile, had killed for the first time.

Fourteen Death Eaters lay dead on the streets of Hogsmeade, all slain at Harry's hand.

Hermione, in her continuing quest to help Harry, had stumbled upon the spell that Pettigrew had used to kill all those Muggles so many years ago. She had been working to build a case to clear Sirius Black's name.

Harry had been paying attention. The curse had served him well.

Several Hogwarts students were alive solely due to Harry's burst of savagery. He had downed eight Death Eaters with one curse. The others. . .

Those who had been there said Harry had looked like the wizards of old, the wizards of legend, floating in midair, wand swirling and casting curses like an angry god hurling bolts of lightning. The remaining Death Eaters hadn't stood a chance.

Merlin. LeFay. Grindelwald. Gryffindor. Slytherin. Mopsus. Paracelsus. Dumbledore. Voldemort.

Now, Susan was terrified to hear her friend's name being mentioned along the names of the most powerful wizards of the ages.

She knew his secret.

He didn't want to be a powerful wizard. He just wanted, more than anything, to be a sixteen year old boy.

And he wanted to get in Luna Lovegood's robes.

Susan hugged herself and cried in her dorm room. She held Luna's bracelet in her hands. Later, she found a picture of herself with Harry and Luna, laughing together.

Just a few days earlier, she had sat here with Harry helping him plan a romantic night for Luna.

That night, she stole down to the Hospital Wing. An ashen Professor McGonagall had said nothing as she saw Susan walking the empty corridors.

Harry was there, covered with dried blood, robes torn and stained. He was physically unhurt.

Ron and Hermione were there. Hermione was quietly sobbing in Ron's arms. Professor Flitwick, looking graver than Susan could possibly imagine. Ginny Weasley, sitting quietly, tears running down her cheeks.

Dumbledore, looking every single day of his one hundred and fifty years.

And Harry.

He had a stack of roses next to him on a table, and was picking petals off, one by one, arranging them delicately around Luna's still form, laid out in a coffin with a smile on her placid face.

Ron had taken Susan aside.

"It's all out. Everyone knows that Luna died to save Harry. They sent Aurors to the Quibbler, but it was too late. Death Eaters killed Luna's father in retaliation this afternoon. I don't think Harry can take any more. Dumbledore hasn't told him yet."

"He won't talk. At all. He sings to her sometimes, but he won't speak to anyone else."

Susan absorbed all that.

"What do you need from me?"

"Just. . .stay around. I don't know if you, or anyone can help. Just stay close."

Later that night, as she had been dozing lightly in a chair, Harry had come up to her with a lost look in his eyes.

He pulled a small ceremic figure out of his robes, and put it on the floor where it began prancing in a circle.

"She can't be dead, Susan, I haven't given her her Snorkack yet. It doesn't make any sense. She's supposed to see it."

Susan looked at the small animal dancing around. She and Harry had spent hours getting the enchantments just right for Harry's present.

She pulled him close, and for the first time, felt Harry's warm tears against her neck. He sobbed for what seemed like forever before falling asleep.

In the morning, she woke up to find Harry was gone. She went over to Luna's coffin, and saw the small Snorkack figurine curled up against the crook of Luna's neck.

Harry had been flanked by Weasleys at the funeral. Occasionally, he would catch Susan's eye, and she was haunted by the lost look there.

Three nights after Luna's funeral, there had been a pop over Susan's bed. An envelope materialized out of thin air and unwrapped itself into a letter, and Susan heard Luna's sing-song voice.

"Testing, one two three. Well, that's what the Muggles say when they do this! Hi Susan! I'm really sorry, unless I've messed this charm up you should only be getting this after I'm dead! If I'm still alive and you're getting this that means I've really bollixed it. Anyhow, I just wanted to thank you for being my friend, and I wanted to remind you of your promise! Take care of Harry, please? I know I can count on you. Sorry to dump this burden on you, but I'm sure he's very upset, and you're probably the only one who he'll talk to. I love you all! This is Luna Lovegood, signing off. I hope that wasn't too silly, I don't want them to think I'm too. . ."

Luna's voice trailed off as the letter vanished in a puff of smoke.

The next morning, a red-eyed Hermione Granger confirmed that several other people had received messages from Luna.

"Me, Ginny, Ron, and of course Harry. Poor Ron, his sang "Weasley is Our King" to him until he finally laughed. Harry's was delayed so that it would only appear when he was alone, I guess Luna knew that Harry wouldn't want anyone to see him cry."

Hermione paused, and lowered her voice.

"She knew this might happen to her. She knew that bad things happen to Harry, and she knew the risks she was taking. And she did it anyway, just to be with him. She had prepared for her own death."

Susan said nothing, as Hermione gave her a sad look and walked off.

A week later, Harry had abruptly changed.

He was driven. He threw himself into the DA training classes. The DA was a sanctioned school club now, and it seemed to be the only thing now that could inspire Harry to be alive.

He didn't smile. He spent a lot of time in the library, looking up obscure spells and teaching them to eager students.

Ron and Hermione were his lieutenants. Ginny was his enforcer, making sure that everything ran smoothly. And Susan sat in the background, keeping the records of spells taught, and safeguarding the money used to buy supplies, and taking notes during Harry's lectures. She compiled the textbook that in later years would be adapted as the new DADA main course book.

It was Susan who heard the first whispers of a Slytherin counterpart to the DA. She mentioned it to Hermione, who shuddered when she heard the name - the SS, otherwise known as the Striking Serpents. Hermione with her knowledge of Muggle history knew what those twin letters had represented in the past - hopefully, the Slytherin organization was not going to be formed along the lines of the Nazi stormtroopers.

It was Susan who had learned that the SS had been named by Slytherin students blissfully unaware of what those initials represented in the Muggle word. Some more checking, and Susan's hopes were confirmed.

The SS was a secret Slytherin organization dedicated to training to fight dark wizards, most notably their House's most famous alumni.

Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Voldemort.

It was Susan who arranged the meeting between the head of the SS and the head of the DA.

She was there, when Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, eying each other with suspicion, had shaken hands for the first time.

"Why, Malfoy?"

"It should be obvious, Potter. A Malfoy shouldn't be a slave. My father could have been a great man; he should be Minister of Magic. Instead, he grovels before that halfblood madman, suffering Crucio at the slightest whim of his master. I don't want that life for me, or my children."

"We can work together, but if we do, the talk of Mudblood this and halfblood this will have to stop."

"Is that an ultimatum, Potter?"

Harry gave a wicked smile. "Think of it as a tactical necessity. We need every asset we can get. Even you must be capable of recognizing the raw power of someone like Hermione Granger. We face an uphill battle; is watching your speech such a terrible price to pay for keeping peace in our ranks?"

Draco smiled. "Well said, Potter. Perhaps you should have been in Slytherin."

Harry smile back. "The Hat tried to put me in Slytherin. I was. . .scared of that idea, and asked not to be placed there."

Susan was quietly proud of Harry for having the presence of mind to not say that he had been appalled at the thought of being in Slytherin. Harry had told her of his experience with the Sorting Hat.

Just one more secret of Harry's that she knew.

In years to come, Susan would keep that picture in mind. Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Harry, looking with mistrust at an equally suspicious Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini. The normally playful Zabini had a reputation for being one of the more outgoing and pleasant members of Slytherin house, but she looked like she was going to hex Harry if he said the wrong thing.

With a quiet pride, Susan realized that only a Hufflepuff would have had the patience to bring the de facto student leaders of the warring houses together.

Her moments with Harry were fewer now. He was a machine, training students for the final battle that he was sure must come soon.

He told her of the prophecy in a monotone. That night, Harry had held Susan as she cried and beat her hands against his chest in a futile attempt to deny the truth.

"I don't want to lose any more friends to that monster, Harry. I don't want to lose you."

His reply had been a whisper.

"That is why I have to do this."

She watched as slowly, grudgingly, Ron, Hermione and Harry progressed from partnership to friendship with Draco Malfoy. In public, they maintained their rivalry. In the dead of night, they would meet and exchange ideas, and each group would share the lessons that had been learned from the other. Occasionally, Harry and Draco would publicly work together on a school project, and would maintain a stiff formality towards each other on those occasions.

Susan had suggested that so that it wouldn't come as a total shock if the DA and SS ever had to merge.

There was nothing she could do, however, to still the waters between Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy. Their vicious war of words would occasionally progress to private duels, where each would try to subdue the other. Susan with Blaise and the Trio anxiously as Ginny and Draco would continually insist on ending the most trivial arguments with a vicious battle of hexes and curses.

On more than one occasion, it took all of the leadership of the DA to stop Draco and Ginny from almost killing each other.

The summer before seventh year was thankfully uneventful. It seemed the Aurors had Voldemort on the run.

It was the calm before the storm.

As seventh year began, there would be small moments of concern at Hogwarts when Harry would vanish. Only Susan knew that at those times, Harry was in Ottery St Catchpole, laying flowers, butterbeer caps and little notes on Luna's grave.

A Yule Ball was announced. Harry announced he wouldn't attend.

McGonagall made it clear that Harry would, indeed, attend, whether he liked it or not.

Legions of giggling Hufflepuff girls teased Susan about her date with the Great Harry Potter. Somehow, her friendship with Harry had gone almost unnoticed over the years. Her protestations that they were just friends were ignored by those who flashed knowing smiles.

Susan knew the truth. Harry's well for romantic love had run dry when Luna had died. It would be years, if ever, before he would ever be able to love in that way again.

Susan still, after all this time, wasn't really attracted to Harry. She loved her friend, and in an abstract, detached way, thought he was kind of cute. She could feel pain when he felt pain, and would do anything to help him. But Harry didn't make her heart flutter the way Ernie Macmillan did.

Susan tried not to be jealous when she saw Ernie with Hannah Abbot. She was blissfully unaware that girls from all four Houses were shooting glares of death at her. Harry was prim, proper and distant.

During one slow dance, he had whispered in her ear, "I miss her." Susan just squeezed him tighter.

She was on the other side of the room when raised voices told her that Ginny and Draco were going at it again. Neville Longbottom and Pansy Parkinson were both trying to hold their respective dates back, who were shouting at each other at the top of their lungs.

Much to her utter amazement, Harry just smiled and steered her out of the ballroom.

"Harry, aren't you going to be the hero and break them up?" Susan was one of the very few who could tease Harry Potter like that.

He shook his head. "Nah. I've been watching them for awhile. I think they kind of like it now."

Susan arched an eyebrow.

Harry sighed. "Ok, look, Draco is head over heels for her. No one else knows. He told me two months ago. Tell NO one, ok?"

Susan nodded. "What does Ginny think?"

"Damned if I know. She keeps telling Ron she likes girls and is going to run off with Padma, but I think she's just doing it to have fun with him."

Susan suppressed a giggle.

Later that night, the two friends lay together in the Room of Requirement, staring at the ceiling, talking in a easy comfortable way.

Somehow, they started talking about the Prophecy.

"I might be able to beat him. I just might. But I don't think I'm going to survive."

His face twisted.

"I wish Luna and I hadn't waited."

Susan could never quite figure why she did what she did next. She pulled him tight to her, and kissed him once on his forehead. He gave a shudder.

She made her decision.

She ran her hands up and down his back, and felt him tense. He stiffened, and then pushed himself closer to her.

She kissed him again, gently, on his neck.

A long sigh escaped Harry, and he slowly, tentatively, kissed her mouth.

It was fumbling, awkward and painful the first time. She held him afterward, and when she felt him stirring again, she pulled him down on top of her and it was somehow better. The second time was pleasurable, and she began to understand how sex could dominate a person's thoughts.

She still considered herself Harry's friend, and not his lover.

He somehow knew it, too.

"I love you, Susan."

"I know, Harry. Not like Luna. But you are my dearest friend."

Harry chuckled softly. "Yeah, but I'm no Ernie Macmillan, am I?"

Susan gasped.

"You, Harry Potter, have the WORST sense of timing! That is not something to say when you have a naked woman in your arms! And besides, how did you figure that out?"

Harry laughed, the first real, true laugh Susan had heard from him in quite a while.

"You have no secrets from me, Susan. We've been friends for too long."

Friend or not, Susan was slightly dizzy at feeling a warm man against her naked body. She idly traced her fingers against his chest.

"I had to lose my virginity sometime, Harry. I trust you. I have no regrets, none at all."

Harry gave a weak smile.

"This sort of thing can't go further, Harry. I know you wish it was her here. It should be her."

Harry said nothing.

"She told me to take care of you, you know. Before and after she died. Just for tonight, I'm here for her, ok, Harry? If it makes you feel better, think of this as a moment outside reality."

Harry looked straight at her, and she was unnerved by those unearthly green eyes.

"I know what my friends think, Susan. Did you do this just so that I wouldn't die a virgin?"

Susan closed her eyes.

"No. I'm scared, Harry. I did this because I don't want any of us to die virgins. I did this because I wanted to give my virginity to someone who I love and respect. And I did it because I wanted to be closer to you for just one night."

"Could it be more?"

Susan pondered that.

"I don't know. If the circumstances were different. I would think you would get bored with me after awhile."

"I could never get bored with you."

Susan shook her head. "We're friends, Harry. Friends who have shared a bit more than friends usually share. I don't know what the future holds."

"You're just saying that because I'm not Ernie Macmillan."

Susan laughed as she playfully slapped him.

"Fine, be that way. Slap me again and I'll start making puns about your last name, Susan."

She tried to appear outraged. "You wouldn't dare."

"I can just see Peeves now if this got out. Potty Potter got Potted and Boned a Bones, and then Bones was Bored."

She laughed despite herself.

They made love one more time, and in the morning, snuck back to their respective common rooms. Many seventh years had been out of bounds that night, and their absences had gone unnoticed with all the other students who had been out of bed doing various activities all night long.

As the weeks went by, not much changed. Harry and Susan made no reference to their stolen night together. However, there was a certain closeness there, some sort of bond, that had not been there before.

She tried not to think about the fact that she was feeling quite sick in the mornings.

Their last time together, alone in the Room of Requirement, Harry had been in an unusually good mood. He and Susan had laughed together and stayed up much too late.

He was in such a fine mood that she couldn't bring herself to mention her worries about her body. She was beginning to bloat a bit, and her normal regularity had been disrupted. She saw no reason, though to tell Harry unless and until she had confirmed it.

As he was leaving, she had given him a kiss on the cheek and he had smiled at her.

She would remember that chaste kiss, and always be grateful for it in the years to come.

Four days later, she had confirmed it.

She was pregnant.

She felt a sickening abyss open up under her. She had no idea what she was going to do.

She didn't love Harry - not that way. He was her FRIEND, she couldn't possibly be carrying his child.

What would her parents say?

At least she would be able to finish out the year at Hogwarts.

What would Harry say?

What would Ernie say? Did he even know that Susan existed?

Did it even matter any more?

She spent the night in her dorm room, sitting, thinking.

She would tell Harry tomorrow.

For Harry Potter, tomorrow never came.

Late that night, before the midnight hour, Voldemort struck.

The Battle of Hogwarts.

Susan tried not to remember the images of that night.

Neville, tortured to death after killing Bellatrix Lestrange.

McGonagall, bitten in half by some sort of unspeakable creature that Susan couldn't even name.

Harry and Draco, back to back, firing curses off like machines. Ron and Hermione, laying down cover as Harry and Draco advanced into the ranks of the Death Eaters.

Snape, leading the counter-offensive with the DA and SS, both groups working together, taking orders as one unified body.

Snape again, locked in combat with Lucius Malfoy.

Dumbledore, incinerating himself in some sort of blast that reduced the bulk of the Death Eaters to ash while leaving the students and teachers unharmed.

And then Harry and Voldemort, both flying through the air, engaged in a strangely beautiful dance of death, hurling spells and counterspells as if they were beings of pure magic.

Perhaps they were.

No one quite knew what Harry did, but everyone saw the white light glowing within Voldemort's serpentine skull.

He who Feared Death was forced to face it as his head blew apart in a dazzling white blast.

The gutted, headless corpse fell to the ground, and a final curse from Harry high above reduced the body of his foe to ashes.

Susan watched in horror as Harry closed his eyes, looked towards the sky, and dropped like a stone.

She raced towards him, dimly aware of Ginny Weasley off to her left, cradling Draco's bloody head in her arms, his broken body limp on the ground. Ginny's animal howls shattered the silence that had descended on the grounds of Hogwarts.

She pushed Ron and Hermione out of the way.

Ron looked lost.

"He's. . .he's dying, Susan."

She grabbed Ron's robes and pulled him close.

"I need to talk to him before he goes, Ron, please."

Ron nodded, mutely.

She knelt down by Harry.

Blood was pouring from his ears, and he was deathly pale.

"Harry."

Harry gulped down air, and grabbed her hand with a grip that belied his dying body.

"Susan. We. . .won? You're safe?"

Susan felt her eyes filling with tears.

"Yes, Harry. Ron and Hermione and Ginny are ok."

"And. . .Draco?"

Susan was torn. She looked towards Ginny, who was casting healing spells on Draco. He looked horrible, but he was holding her hand and had a smile on his face.

"I think he's going to be ok. Ginny's with him."

Harry smiled, coughed, and sucked in more air.

"Told. . .you, Bones. True love."

Susan felt the tears run down her cheek even as she laughed.

"Stay. . .Susan. Stay until the end."

"No, no, no, Harry, I told you I don't want to lose any more friends, stay with us."

"Can't. . .have a. . .date with a Ravenclaw. She's close now, Susan."

Susan looked helplessly at Hermione, who was kneeling on the other side of Harry.

"Do something?"

The look of mute helplessness on Hermione's face spoke volumes.

Harry was dying.

Susan knew it was her last chance.

"Harry. . .feel this."

She grabbed his hand, and slipped it under her robe, placing it against the soft curve of the underside of her belly.

"Our child, Harry, you're going to be a father."

A look of terror shot across Harry's face.

"Not. . .like me, Susan, not, alone? Please. . .keep safe? Better life. . .than I had? "

"Yes Harry, the baby won't know its father, but I will love it for both of us,"

Harry relaxed a little.

"Not. . .an orphan. A wonderful mum."

Another cough.

"Tell. . .baby. . .I'm so. . .sorry."

Susan started sobbing.

"I'll make sure, Harry. The baby will know you through me, and Ron, and Hermione."

"Ernie will. . .understand."

Despite everything, Susan laughed.

"He doesn't even know I exist, you fool."

Harry gave an enigmatic smile.

"You'll. . .see. "

Harry body's spasmed.

"I'm going to be. . .a daddy."

He pulled Susan's hand to his lips and kissed it.

He smiled.

And then he was gone.

Susan took the hem of her robe and wiped blood away from Harry's lips, and gently brushed the with her own.

"You were my best friend."

Ron and Hermione were in shock.

Ron's mouth opened and closed like a fish.

"Is it true?"

Susan nodded.

Hermione's eyes were darting around, trying to find meaning in the chaos that was Hogwarts.

"It's over."

Susan shook her head.

"We only have a few minutes. Please, we'll talk later, until then, tell no one about Harry's child. No one."

Ron nodded mutely.

The next few weeks passed in a daze.

Funerals. Endless funerals.

Susan was careful to stay far away from Ron and Hermione at Harry's funeral. They had tried to convince her otherwise, but she felt it was for the best. No one must know how close she was to Harry.

Ron and Hermione knew the truth. So did Susan. Everyone else just wondered who the father was.

Eyebrows were raised at Susan's graduation, for she was showing quite heavily by then. No one said anything - she refused to name the father, and it was assumed that the father had been one of the dozens of students who perished in Voldemort's final attack. Due to the circumstances, the criticism that would normally be applied to a young unmarried witch was quite muted.

Susan resolved that no one would know who her child's father was - there were, or at least would be, other Dark Wizards out there, and there would always be those who supported them. Better to raise the child quietly, no one knowing who the father was.

The only child of Harry Potter would be quite a trophy indeed to any aspiring Dark Wizard out there. And who was to say that all of the Death Eaters had perished in the Battle of Hogwarts? There might be someone out there who wanted revenge. . .

Susan resolved to keep her baby's paternity secret until such time as the child was old enough to conduct at least a rudimentary defense of itself.

As she gave birth, her heart jumped as she saw the baby's fine blonder hair, so much like hers. The eyes, however, were that same shade of green as their father's. But when she saw it was a boy, she had no choice. She had the name already prepared.

Hericus Bones was born six months after the death of his father.

She had thought long and hard about it, but in the end, the thought of the teasing the child would endure were she to name him "Harry Bones" was just too much.

It had been bad enough growing up as Susan Bones. The thought of what young children would make of the name Harry Bones made her shudder.

Having a last name like Bones gave you an education in how cruel young children could be.

She wasn't worried that if she named the boy "Harry" people would connect it to her child's father. Sometimes, it seems a quarter of all wizarding boys born after the Second Fall of Voldemort were named Harry. One more Harry wouldn't have been noticed.

And the child would only be named Bones for the first fifteen years. Susan felt she had to hide her son's identity for his protection, but by the age of fifteen, she was sure he would be able to assume his father's name - the name that was rightfully his.

She was determined that her son would spend his last two years at Hogwarts as a Potter.

And if someone realized that Hericus was merely the latin written form of Harry, well, then, what did it matter?

She never lied to her son. She never made up tales about any big romantic love stories. She never hid her son's parentage from him.

At a very, very young age Hericus learned that to everyone except Ron and Hermione, he had to feign ignorance of his father's identity. He never told anyone of the stories his mom would tell him late at night, about her friend, his father, who had suffered so much and borne his burdens so well.

For a young man who was acutely aware that his father had saved the world, Hericus Potter was remarkably levelheaded and modest.

Harry had been right, of course. Two years after Hericus was born, she became Susan Macmillan.

Ernie never asked who Hericus' father was. After they had been married for a year, he offered to formally adapt the boy he had grown to love, the boy who was a part of the woman he loved.

With a trembling heart, Susan had told Ernie who her child's father was.

His response made her love him even more.

"Oh. Oh, my. Well. I see. I'll love him like my own, Susan, but perhaps I shouldn't adopt him. It's only right that he take Harry's name when he's older, don't you think?"

Susan thought she was truly blessed to have such an understanding husband.

Ron and Hermione visited, constantly. Their children grew up with Hericus, and she was grateful for that. After all, Ron and Hermione's twin daughters were only a year and a half younger than Hericus.

Susan always wondered exactly how a smart witch like Hermione had bungled her Contraceptive Charms. Her one attempt to question Hermione on it had been met with a very sly smile indeed.

Finally, it came time for Hericus to begin his sixth year at Hogwarts. Everything had been prepared. The legal papers for the name change had been carefully prepared. Susan only had one real worry.

Over the years, she had been very, very careful about protecting Harry's last secret.

Careful to the point of paranoia.

This meant that certain sacrifices had to be made.

It meant that no one, no matter how trustworthy, could be brought in on the secret. Ernie had been the only exception.

Susan was truly scared of what would happen when her owl dropped off the notice at Malfoy Manor.

It was a simple piece of parchment.

Susan and Ernie Macmillan Request the Honor of Your Presence at the Grand Hall of the Crystal Chalice at Seven o'clock on July 31^st of this Year For an Announcement of Importance Regarding their Son, Hericus.

Ginny Malfoy smiled as she read the announcement. The date stuck in her mind - and her knowledge of Latin was as good as anyone's. And those eyes! She wondered if her husband had figured it out.

Apparently, he hadn't. On the evening of the thirty-first, for only the fourth time in her life, Ginny saw her husband shed tears as Susan revealed to the select group of friends that the son of Harry Potter would be starting his sixth year at Hogwarts.

Draco Malfoy held his wife's hand and thought of his lost friend. Five years lost, all because of a stupid argument on a train. As time went on, Draco had regretted those five years of war with Potter, and wished he could go back and change things. Now, looking at the son of his former enemy turned fallen friend, Draco's cool mask of detachment slipped, and he thought of how lucky he was, and how much he missed Harry Potter.

He looked at his brother-in-law and saw a look of happiness in Ron's face.

Harry Potter was dead, but he lived on through his son.

And through his friends.

The next day, Draco and Ginny stood in the cemetery at Ottery St. Catchpole, looking down on two graves, side by side for all eternity.

In the wake of Harry's death, Molly Weasley had put aside her grief to make the proper arrangements. Molly, of course, listened to her son, Ron. And Ron listened to Susan.

Luna Lovegood and Harry Potter would lie side by side in the earth until the end of days.

The flowers left by Harry's son the day before were just starting to wilt.

As Draco and Ginny stood in silence, they both had the same thought.

Out of all his friends, truly, Susan Bones had worked the hardest to keep Harry's secrets safe.

Draco reached down and put a picture of Hericus on Harry's grave. Ginny laid the latest Quibbler on Luna's.

Susan had kept her secrets well.

But, it was a new day.

Harry Potter was, finally, at peace.

There was no longer any need for secrets.