What We Once Were
A/N
So, we ended on quite the cliff-hanger last time. Here is the next chapter for you all to enjoy.
Also, the podcast with CatsareCool will be uploaded by the time you get this, so do go over and check it out.
TBR
Each memory she had shared with the boy played vividly over again in a cruel loop as she clutched a handful of his robes, willing him with all she had to come back to her. Yet, he remained unmoving, unable to hear or fulfil her pleas. She lamented on what they had shared and the things they never had, her heart aching with regret and mind full of questions. He had taken the curse for her without hesitation, had chosen death over seeing her perish. What did that mean? Did it mean he cared for her much more than she believed? Did he care for as much as she did him? Though she never voiced her own feelings, didn't truly understand them until it was too late, the need to know was overwhelming.
He had died for her, and had she the chance, she would have done the same for him, undoubtedly, if only to save herself the pain of losing him.
She sobbed once more as she realised he would never smile in her direction again or offer a sarcastic quip. Worse yet, she would never again hear his voice or meet his eyes let alone feel the warmth of his embrace.
She knew not how long she was draped across his chest. It wasn't until a gentle hand was placed on her shoulder that she was even aware of any other being close by.
" Fleur? Come, my little flower, you must let him go."
It was her father, the sadness in his own voice urging her only to cling tighter to the boy. She felt him take a knee next to her and begin rubbing circles into her back, trying to offer some comfort. The gesture fell flat,
" I'm sorry. I cannot imagine what it is you are feeling, and I wish I could take it all away for you. But I need you to let him go, the aurors are coming and I need you to tell me what has happened. It does not look good that you have returned with 'Arry's body with no explanation. He would want to keep you safe and away from trouble."
She snorted. Her father had no idea the lengths Harry would go to protect her.
" It was Voldemort. He is back, papa," she revealed, finally lifting her head from Harry's chest and looking towards the man.
He nodded his acceptance, his own teary eyes eliciting another choked sob from her.
" He saved me, papa. The curse was coming, and he put himself in the way of it to save me."
Desperate to feel something, anything other than the utter misery plaguing her, she fell into his arms and they immediately wrapped around her. It was not the embrace she craved, but it was something.
" He was one of the good ones, my little flower," Sebastien whispered.
She nodded against his chest. For her, there would never be another Harry Potter. He had saved her in more ways than he would ever know. Not only had he gone, he had taken her heart with him.
" Non, what are they doing?" she asked when she spotted Professors McGonagall and Flitwick covering Harry's body with a white sheet before levitating him between themselves, both crying openly.
" They must take him, Fleur. Wizarding Britain will demand a proper burial for one of their heroes."
" Non! 'Arry would not want that. Where are they taking him?"
" I do not know."
" I am going with him, please, papa."
Sebastien offered her a sympathetic smile as he conjured a vial.
" I need the memory of what happened, Fleur. I need to ensure your safety."
Without thought, she placed her wand against her temple and drew it before placing it in the container. With a pleading look, her father nodded, and she raced after the Professors, passing a following Sirius Black who was seemingly catatonic as he was led towards the castle by Remus Lupin.
She did not know what she hoped to achieve by being with him, but she was not ready to say her goodbyes. She was not ready to be away from him, even if he was no longer with her.
She caught up to the Professors as they had begun ascending the stairs.
"I do not think it is a good idea for you to be here, Miss Delacour," Professor McGonagall said.
"Please, Professor, I just need to sit with 'im for a while."
The woman took pity on her, and nodded, offering a look of sympathy through her own grief.
She did all she could in that moment and followed, her eyes unable to leave the white sheet as they made their way through the corridors of the school. They entered the Hospital Wing a moment later where his body was laid upon a bed and the curtains pulled around them. She took as a seat as the others stood, silently staring.
It wasn't until Professor McGonagall pulled herself from her thoughts that another word was spoken between them.
"I know that this is very raw, but I need to know what happened, Miss Delacour. Not for any other reason than I cared for him. For my own closure, I need to know."
The transfiguration mistress had always been strict, her stern visage unwavering, no matter what she faced. In this moment, however, Fleur could see the need to know what had happened to Harry, just as much as she felt the need to be with him.
"Voldemort," she answered, her voice hoarse. "I do not know 'ow, but 'e is back. When 'Arry realised we 'ad been trapped, 'e covered me in 'is cloak and 'id me from 'is followers. I could not move or see what 'appened, but 'e fought them. 'E must 'ave been overwhelmed because they tied 'im to a gravestone."
She choked at the memory of Harry being tortured.
"Some'ow, Voldemort came back. 'E tortured 'Arry with that 'orrible curse. 'E was so brave," she added as a fresh wave of tears rolled down her cheeks, "'E convinced 'im to fight 'im. Even though 'e was 'urt, 'e was not losing. I managed to break free of the spell 'Arry put on me and found the cup. 'E told me to, 'e said it would bring us back."
She took a deep breath.
"Voldemort saw me and 'Arry got 'im but 'e got back up and tried to kill me. I do not know what 'appened but 'Arry was there and the curse 'it 'im instead of me."
"He thought a lot of you," Remus broke in, seemingly having arrived with Sirius during her retelling of what had happened.
She could only nod in response. She did not know what to say to the werewolf or Harry's godfather.
The group once more descended into silence until Madame Pomfrey arrived.
"I'm sorry, but I need to prepare him," she explained to Sirius.
He gestured for her to proceed before turning to leave, the grief he felt overwhelming. He was followed by Remus who wrapped an arm around him.
"Come, Miss Delacour. Poppy needs the space to work. You can spend more time with him when she is finished," Professor Flitwick promised.
Reluctantly, she left her seat to allow the woman to carry out her duties. They had been standing on the other side of the curtain for only a few minutes when the curtain was ripped back, and a wide-eyed matron emerged.
"Minerva, fetch the headmaster," she instructed, her skin visibly paling.
"Why? What is happening, Poppy?"
"I do not know how, but Mr Potter is not dead, not yet at least."
Fleur's gaze snapped towards the woman, her chest tightening as the words sunk in.
She shook her head. It was impossible. She had felt him die in her arms, had seen his eyes devoid of life. As much as she wished it was not true, Harry was dead. The woman must have made a mistake.
Still, her heart filled with hope.
(BREAK)
He found himself in a strange, yet somewhat familiar place, though it seemed grander in comparison to its counterpart. Here, the floor and arches were constructed of smooth, white marble instead of brick and roughly hewn stone. The walls were clean, devoid of the usual advertisements that would be largely overlooked by passers-by. Without them, their absence was glaring giving an almost clinical feel to the place.
As he pressed forward, the sound of his footsteps echoed throughout the vast emptiness. For the most part, silence was never prevalent here. Announcements, rushing commuters and chatting would fill the void, creating an impenetrable din where one could barely hear their own thoughts let alone steps.
Though, Harry was not alone.
A figure was seated on a bench a short distance away, seemingly waiting for him to approach. He could not profess to know the man who was much older than he, his once dark locks liberally peppered with grey. It wasn't until he drew closer that a sad smile was sent his way.
"Hello, Harry," the man greeted.
He faltered in his steps. He knew that voice better and more intimately than any other. It had resided within him for almost eight years.
Taking in the features sobered him. Aside for a few differences, it felt as though he was looking at himself inn the mirror if he were to be a half-dozen decades older. If one were to disregard the wrinkles and slightly poutier lips, the visage was almost his very own down to the green eyes he possessed.
"Tom?"
The man nodded as he stood and opened his arms, the gesture causing Harry's world to crumble around him as he remembered just how it was he came to be here.
Without thought, he threw himself into the embrace and revelled in the warmth and comfort of the one constant he'd had in life.
"I'm sorry, Tom," he choked.
"Shh, I will not have you apologise for doing nothing less than I expected from you."
"But…"
"But nothing, Harry. You proved the kind of man you are growing to be."
Harry extricated himself from were he was pulled against the chest of the man and met his eyes once more.
"We died."
Tom nodded as he wiped away the tears of the boy with the pad of his thumb and gestured for him to take a seat on the bench. Joining him, he released a deep breath.
"Perhaps," he returned cryptically, a slight frown marring his features as he took in their surroundings.
"Perhaps?"
"It matters not, for now," Tom replied dismissively. "We are here and there is nothing to be done."
"Where is here? It looks like King's Cross."
"It does," Tom agreed. "Maybe it is our journey coming full circle. Ours truly started here on the day you went to Hogwarts. I suppose my own was the same when I was a boy."
Harry frowned thoughtfully.
"So, what do we do?"
"What do people do when they are at King's Cross?"
"Wait for a train?"
Tom nodded, a slight smile tugging at his lips as a comfortable silence fell over them for a moment or two.
"Where will the train take us, Tom?"
"Now, that is a question I do not know the answer to. Perhaps it will take us to where our final resting place is, maybe to where those we carry in here," he added, his hand resting over his heart, "are waiting for us."
He frowned and swallowed audibly before shaking his head.
"Who would be waiting for you?" Harry asked curiously.
The man released a deep sigh, his eyes dulling considerably.
"I do not think there will be any there. I lived a very selfish life, Harry, and cared for none but myself. I expect my penance will be an eternity of loneliness."
"That's not true, I will be there with you," Harry corrected.
Tom shook his head.
"Think of those that will be waiting for you, Harry. I do not believe they would be pleased to see me. Anyway, we cannot be certain of what will happen. We are speaking of the hypothetical."
"Well, I don't like the thought of you being alone."
Tom offered him a smile as he ruffled his hair.
"If I am right in my belief, I shall be alone for some time at least," he replied.
"What do you mean?"
Tom deflated slightly, though the smile remained.
"I do not believe that this is the end of your journey, Harry. If it were, I would not be here with you."
"I don't understand," Harry returned.
"Being quite the expert in the use of the Killing Curse, I have long supported the theory that it is something that directly affects the soul of the user and victim. To create a Horcrux, the use of the curse is a necessity. It does not work if a life is taken with any other spell," he explained. "Here, we are two souls and I believe that magic will be content with only one of us moving on. There would be an imbalance and if I have learnt anything from my errors in life, it is that magic requires balance."
Harry felt his stomach tighten at what was being suggested.
"Then I would…"
"Go back," Tom finished, his smile widening as his eyes sparkled with tears.
Harry shook his head.
"He will kill me again. I can't win without you. I don't want to go back without you!"
Tom gave him a look of sympathy.
"You have all you need to win, Harry. You know of his Horcruxes and you are more than capable of defeating him. It may take you some time, but I believe in you, I always have," he offered. "Tell me, when was the last time you truly needed me?"
"Every day since I was seven."
Tom closed his eyes and swallowed. When he opened them, a tear broke free as he looked at the boy.
"I can't even put into words how much that means to me," he whispered.
"It's the truth."
"I believe you, Harry, but have you considered what the rest of your life would be like having me with you? I have, and one day, despite what you think, there will be no place for me. We are alike in many ways, perhaps it is my influence that has shaped you, but you are so different also. Your actions tonight proved that beyond doubt."
"How?"
"Because you have shown that you can care enough for others to die for them if the need arises. That is where our similarities end. Never have I cared for anyone that I would do what you did. It makes you a better man than I could ever be. I am selfish by nature and have taken steps most others would not in aide of my need of self-preservation."
"What I did was stupid," Harry sighed.
"Why, because it is what I would deem it? Consider the alternative, Harry, how would you feel if you hadn't taken the curse for her?"
He watched as the boys' eyes widened fearfully.
"You did what you did because you care for her more than even you believe. I do not fault you for it. In a way, I admire you for your courage. I would not have done the same in your position. Call it stupid if you will, but there is a fine line between bravery and stupidity and throughout your life, you have demonstrated the former. As much as it irked me at times, your bravery cannot be questioned."
"It got us killed," Harry reminded him.
"No, it did not. It has set you free," Tom corrected, nodding towards a ghostly steam train, as it approached and came to a halt at the platform.
Harry grabbed the man's wrist as he turned to leave.
"What will I do without you?"
"You will live, Harry. That is all I have ever wanted for you. That, and for you to find some happiness in the miserable world you were born into. Be happy, Harry, that is my final wish."
He gently removed his wrist and began walking towards the awaiting train.
"You were wrong, Tom," Harry called.
The man turned with a questioning look in his eyes, his heart sinking as tears flowed feely down the cheeks of the teen.
"How so?"
"If I got on that train, you would probably go back to my body."
He nodded his agreement, confused as to the point Harry was trying to make.
"You said that you would not die for anyone else. Isn't that what you're doing for me?"
Tom smiled, accepting the words and the fate he had chosen.
"You are the exception, Harry, but I am merely doing what any man would for one he sees as his son. I never had any desire to have children, but if I did, I couldn't be any prouder if they had turned out like you."
With that, he was gone, and Harry could only watch as the train departed before the world around him began to fade, obscured by a thick, white fog that rolled in.
(BREAK)
" Merde," Sebastien cursed as he was deposited from the pensieve.
" What happened?" Apolline questioned, her already milky skin paler from the events of the evening.
Gabrielle was cradled in her mother's arms, having cried herself to sleep after learning of what had happened to Harry.
He shook his head, his own turmoil threatening to get the better of him. Although he had seen little, as thankfully had Fleur, listening to what Harry had endured had him experiencing a maelstrom of emotions. The boy had proved himself beyond what most men could ever hope to be, magically and in spirit. Anyone lesser would have crumbled, but not Harry. He had risen, had fought valiantly and ultimately, saved the life of his daughter. It did not bear thinking about the alternative. Had Harry not been the boy he was, it would be Fleur he was mourning.
" I will not speak of it," he replied. "It will do you no good knowing. All that needs to be said is that he saved her life at the expense of his own."
" Truly?"
Sebastien nodded, swallowing a lump that formed in his throat. He had grown fond of the boy over the months he had gotten to know him. He was selfless to a fault and brought a smile to his daughter's face. There was little more that a father could ask for.
" I must go to her. The British cannot be trusted with the current administration. I need you to pack and be ready to leave as soon as I can convince her to do so."
" She will not," Apolline returned knowingly.
" Then I must ensure that Fudge and his ilk do not present a problem. So, help me, I will kill him myself should he try."
" Sebastien, non," Apolline pleaded.
It was not often her husband could be provoked into a rage. But when it happened, it never ended well for others. Though he was a gentle man for the most part, he was ruthless when needed and she did not doubt that he would carry out his threat if he felt that Fleur was in danger.
" Then let us hope he does not prove to be as foolish as I believe."
He retrieved the memory from the pensieve and placed it back into the vial before kissing his wife on the cheek and taking his leave.
The castle grounds were swarming with figures in red cloaks, though none attempted to impede him as he entered the castle and made his way towards where Harry's body had likely been taken. The boy had taken them to the Hospital Wing earlier in the day. Sebastien would never have believed he would be returning so soon after, let alone to pay his respects to the one that had been so full of life only that very afternoon.
He had expected to find the room mostly empty with perhaps only his daughter, Sirius, Remus and the matron present. What he entered to see was a flurry of activity as the woman in charge bustled around almost aimlessly. Sirius and Remus were stood to one side, each wearing a look of disbelief as Dumbledore waved his wand frantically over what could only be Harry's body that had been placed on a bed.
Fleur was nearby, her own expression pleading as she fiddled with an odd cloak she held in her hands.
" What is happening?" he questioned as he reached the girl.
" He is not dead, papa," she answered as she clung to him.
" Impossible," Sebastien whispered. "I saw what he did, Fleur."
" Non, Dumbledore is certain."
Her eyes shifted back to the prone form of the boy who was as unmoving as he had been since he arrived. Sebastien followed suit, his head shaking in denial. Harry was dead and the dead do not come back, not even Harry Potter.
After a few moments, Dumbledore ceased what efforts he was seemingly making to bring the boy round, his wand falling limply to his side.
"What is it, Albus?" Sirius questioned.
The headmaster sighed.
"He is not gone, not completely, but he is not quite here either," he answered with a frown. "I find myself at a loss and can only deduce that it is up to Harry to make his way back to us."
His demeanour was one not often seen. He had always been the paragon of positivity for many. Even during the darkest days of the war, such had not wavered, but now, the façade was fracturing before their very eyes.
The door swinging open to admit Cornelius Fudge and an entourage of aurors caused the frown to deepen. An irate Professor McGonagall followed, and she shot a glare at the man before addressing Dumbledore.
"I told him you were not ready, Albus but he would not listen. He insisted."
"I did tell you I would meet you in my office, Cornelius," Dumbledore chastised, his irritation with the man showing.
Undeterred, the Minister stood at his full height.
"I have heard some disturbing rumours, Dumbledore. I have heard that Harry Potter is dead, murdered in fact. As Minister of Magic, it is my duty to verify such."
Sebastien squeezed Fleur's hand, a gesture warning her to keep her composure. Sirius had no such qualms, however, as he growled.
"Fuck off, Fudge," he seethed, drawing his wand threateningly.
Remus took him by the wrist and shook his head.
"Calm down. Not here, not with Harry."
The man trembled in rage as he attempted to compose himself. He was torn between striking down the Minister where he stood and sitting vigil by his godson's side.
"You made a similar mistake before, Padfoot. Look where that got you."
Sirius flared his nostrils but slid his wand back up his sleeve. Were Harry to come back, he did not want it to be to him once again being in Azkaban.
Fudge signalled for the aurors with him to lower their own wands.
"So, it is true. How did it happen?"
"Voldemort," Sebastien answered on behalf of his daughter.
Fudge flinched before he burst into peels of laughter, followed by those that had accompanied him.
"Is that what your daughter told you? Perhaps she is merely trying to cover her own actions. I was quite interested to learn of the animosity between the two. Did she not burn the boy with her unnatural fire during a duel? It is not such a stretch that she would use the final task to finish what she started."
Sebastien felt his temper beginning to flare as those within the room watched him warily.
Fudge had demonstrated his foolishness. Not only had he insulted the man's daughter, he had questioned a member of the ICW, a man that could make life very difficult for him.
Dumbledore shook his head as he watched the Frenchman closely.
"I do 'ope that you are not calling my daughter a liar," Sebastien returned, his fingers twitching to reach for his own wand. "You forget yourself, Minister."
"No, it is you that forgets, Delacour. This is Wizarding Britain, not the ICW or any other entity that has no say here."
"I have been telling you for years, Cornelius. The signs have been there and yet, you have chosen to ignore them at every turn. Lord Voldemort has returned, that I have no doubt of," Dumbledore interjected, the situation between Fudge and Sebastien likely soon to descend into violence, something he wished to avoid. "Now is not the time for denial, but for action. Should you refuse to acknowledge the truth, we have already lost."
"HE IS NOT BACK!" Fudge denied, purpling. "HE IS DEAD, ALBUS. I AM TIRED OF YOUR THEORIES AND OF YOUR SUSPICIONS."
"Then the blood of every death will be on your hands, Fudge," a voice sounded, garnering the attention of every person in the room.
"'Arry," Fleur breathed, breaking the hold her father had on her and throwing herself into his arms.
"I see the rumours of your death are as exaggerated as the events surrounding it," Fudge snarled as he withdrew a small bag and dropped it on the ground. "Your winnings," he explained as he turned to leave.
"Burying your head in the sand will not help. I'll even give you my memory of what happened. Maybe you won't be such a coward and do something about it instead of living in denial. He is back, Minister. The sooner you accept it, the more lives you can save."
Fudge's lips curled as he faced the boy.
"I've been told all about you, Potter. A parselmouth who courts foreign half-breeds. I wouldn't trust a word or memory from you."
Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously at the man.
"Nor I you. Now I suggest you piss off."
"You dare talk to me that way, boy?" the Minister hissed.
"Cornelius!" Dumbledore chastised. "Emotions are running high. We do not wish for this to deteriorate further. You have made your beliefs clear and I can only hope that the damage done is not irreparable before you see the error of your ways."
"I will not be harangued into swallowing your delusions. Whatever happened this evening, is at a close as far as I am concerned. The boy yet lives and you have provided no irrefutable evidence," he finished dismissively before once more heading for the door.
"Then you should check on Barty Crouch," Harry advised. "You will either find him dead or under the Imperius of his own son."
"His son died in Azkaban," Fudge despaired. "See, delusion upon delusion. You should consider yourselves fortunate that I am not arresting you for wasting the time of the aurors."
Unwilling to see the truth, the man finally took his leave and the rest of the room turned their attention to Harry who was being checked over by Madame Pomfrey.
"I do not know where to begin, my boy," Dumbledore addressed him. "Yet again, you have demonstrated your resilience in the face of the impossible."
Harry could only nod morosely, seemingly lost in thought as he held an emotional Fleur in his arms.
"How're you feeling, Harry?" Sirius asked warily as he approached.
"I've been better but tired mostly."
Sirius nodded and offered him an encouraging smile.
"What happened? How are you not dead?"
Harry shrugged.
"It's all a bit hazy now," he answered honestly. "If it helps, why don't you take my memory and see for yourself? He is back, that's all I know. Everything else is confusing. I… just need some time alone."
"Of course," Dumbledore replied as he conjured a vial and shot a questioning look at the matron.
"His arm is broken in four places and his magic is very unsettled. By some miracle, other than that, he appears to be as expected," she explained disbelievingly.
"Then you should rest. Allow us to begin what needs to be done. Without the support of the Minister, we must act quickly," Dumbledore offered as he held out the vial.
Harry placed his wand to his temple and drew the memory. Placing it in the container, he sunk back into his pillows, exhausted.
"I'll be fine, Sirius," he said seeing that his godfather was uncertain of what to do.
"I will be back in the morning," he promised before following the headmaster, Remus and a shocked Professor McGonagall from the room. "Are you coming, Sebastien?"
"Non. I am sorry but it is no affair of mine. Your Minister 'as made 'imself very clear that 'e will not act. My priority is getting my family 'ome where they cannot be 'armed. I 'ave seen what 'appened and do not wish to again."
Sirius appeared to be almost offended by the words of the Frenchman but nodded his understanding before exiting, not without a final glance at his godson.
When the door closed, Sebastien turned to Harry.
"I may not be willing to 'elp your country, 'Arry, but I will 'elp you any way I can. I owe you a debt that I will never be able to repay. What you did…for 'er, I can never show 'ow grateful I am for you. You are the bravest man I know, 'Arry Potter."
Harry could only offer the man a nod as Madame Pomfrey returned with a tray of potions.
" Come, my little flower. We must allow him to rest," Sebastien urged.
Fleur raised her head before shaking it, her eyes filling with tears once more.
" Non, I will not leave 'im. Please, papa, I need to be here."
Sebastien smiled as he looked between the two. He had all but witnessed a miracle and he could not be happier for Fleur. She had experienced the worst thing she likely ever would, but it had been turned around by the boy she clung to. Somehow, he had come back, and though he would never understand how, he felt nothing but relief that his daughter would no longer have to mourn for him.
"It's okay," Harry spoke softly, his eyes drooping as he neared the point of sleep. "I will come and find you as soon as I can."
Fleur looked as though the last thing she wanted to do was leave but she conceded with a nod. She was as exhausted as Harry appeared, and though she was loath to be away from him, it would do her little good being here.
"I will be back in the morning," she promised.
"Well, I'm not going anywhere," Harry quipped through a forced smile.
"Do not joke about it," she chided irritably. "I lost you 'Arry and I don't know what I would 'ave done if you did not come back."
"I don't know what I would have done if it had been you," he whispered in return.
She smiled at him, her eyes watering as she squeezed his hand.
"I will remember that, 'Arry, so the next time you decide to be silly, I can remind you."
He returned the gesture, the smile adorning his features less forced.
"I look forward to it."
She shook her head exasperatedly as she stood.
"Why did you do it?"
Harry swallowed, his eyes shifting between Sebastien and Madame Pomfrey as he pondered his answer. He needn't have, not really. He knew why he did it but voicing it was something else entirely.
" Because I would not want to live my life without you in it."
Fleur's mouth fell agape at the words. Never had he been so candid. He had done all he could to avoid talking about anything that there might be between them. It was a shock, but not an unwelcome one, not how the rest of the evening had been.
" You really mean it, don't you?"
He nodded as he met her gaze.
" If I had to, I would do it again."
Fleur could only shake her head in disbelief before her father intervened.
" Come, Fleur. I believe the matron wishes to tend to her patient."
Fleur nodded dumbly as she was led away, her eyes not leaving the boy until she was out of sight.
Harry released a deep breath as Madame Pomfrey approached.
"I will need to set the arm first before you take your potions. It will be quite uncomfortable."
He nodded mutely, barely a grunt escaping him as his bones were manipulated back into place. It hurt but was no Cruciatus Curse.
"The potions will help mend the breaks and give you a dreamless sleep. I don't expect you wish to relive the memories of this evening so soon."
He swallowed down the unpleasant concoctions and handed the vials back to the woman who gave him an uncertain smile before taking her leave, closing the curtain around him.
When he was alone, he turned on his side feeling numb, despite the prickling feeling in his arm. He knew he must face what he had to alone, but it did not prevent him from reaching out a final time to the one that had been there for him through everything.
" Tom?"
His plea was met with silence.
Although he knew no answer would come, his heart sunk as the final vestige of hope he had clung to was ripped away. Unashamedly, he cried, feeling almost as lost as he had when he had been but a weak boy.
Though the sleep he had would be dreamless, it would be fitful. Those he had left behind no longer had reason to mourn but it was not the same for him. His loss would be one he would carry with him for the rest of his days.
(BREAK)
Having exited the pensieve, Dumbledore, Minerva, Remus and Sirius sat in utter silence, each attempting to digest and comprehend what they had jut witnessed. It was the headmaster that composed himself first, though he was shaken by what he had seen.
"This raises many more questions than it does answer those I had," he mused aloud.
"Bloody hell," Sirius huffed, releasing a staggered breath. "How did he manage to survive that? Did you see what he did?"
Remus placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and simply shook his head in disbelief.
"I knew he was gifted, we all knew that, but Merlin, where did he learn it?" Minerva asked.
"I do not believe that is something we can answer. Only Mr Potter has that knowledge and it is unlikely that he will share such," Dumbledore replied.
"He killed three of those men, Albus. That is not something so easily dismissed. How will that affect him?"
Dumbledore sighed.
"I had long hoped that I could protect him from the necessity of it for as long as possible. I will ensure he has all the help he needs to deal with it. What we can take away from this is that Harry is more than capable of defending himself should the need arise, as it undoubtedly will."
The others nodded their agreement.
"Sirius, have you noticed anything about Harry that may shine some light on just how he knows such magic?"
The man shrugged.
"Whenever he has been at Grimmauld Place, he's spent a lot of time in the library. He could have found anything in there."
Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, trying to ignore the concerns welling within him. He knew the duelling style he had witnessed well, had faced it on many occasions during the last war. He hoped it was merely a coincidence, but he could not dismiss it. The similarities were uncanny.
"Minerva?"
"I do not know what to say, Albus. I am flabbergasted he survived let alone kept up with him."
"But he was killed," Sirius pointed out. "We all saw what happened. How did he survive it again?"
"Alas, I do not know," Dumbledore answered sincerely. "It is something I must ponder. For now, I do not believe what we have seen should leave this room. It will attract attention to Harry that he will not relish."
"Agreed," Sirius returned, followed immediately by the others.
"So, what do we do now?" Minerva asked.
Before an answer could be given, a knock sounded at the door and Dumbledore relaxed, relief etched into his features.
"Come in, Severus," he called.
The door opened to reveal a pale potions master who took a seat next to his colleague, pointedly ignoring the other two men.
"What have you learned, my boy?"
"Very little. The Dark Lord has suffered minor injuries and believe that Potter is dead, though that will not last long. I suspect when he learns he yet lives, his need for you-know-what will increase."
Dumbledore nodded his agreement.
"Barty Crouch Junior is responsible for Potter's name being placed in the cup. He orchestrated everything through his father whom he placed under the Imperius Curse. I know no more other than he has ordered Macnair to the continent to begin negotiating with the giants."
"Very well, as always, your information is invaluable," Dumbledore offered.
Snape merely nodded before taking his leave.
"I will begin contacting the old crowd. It is imperative that the Order is readied. Cornelius will be of no help until he can no longer deny what has happened. Sirius, would it be possible to use your home as a temporary headquarters?"
The man nodded somewhat reluctantly to which Dumbledore smiled.
"Remus, there will be a job for you soon enough, for now, I'd like you to listen out for any whispers in the werewolf community. If they are approached, I would like to know about it."
"Of course," Remus confirmed.
"What about Harry?"
Dumbledore released a deep breath.
"We will give him some time to come to terms with what has happened. I see no reason to make him relive his experience of this evening. He has accepted the offer of apprenticeship under Filius and Minerva so we can be assured he will return next year."
"No," Sirius denied. "I do not want him in the castle. If I can, I will convince him to go elsewhere. Not that he needs school anymore, not really."
"Sirius, do you not think that it should be Harry's decision?" Remus asked. "He has an opportunity here that he won't get anywhere else. He won't be safer anywhere else."
The man deflated as he shook his head. He knew if Harry chose to come back there was nothing he could do to stop him.
"How can we keep him safe if he is here?"
"I will be reviewing the security of the castle," Dumbledore informed them. "If there are any further steps that can be taken, they will be."
"At least he knows the castle," Remus added.
Sirius nodded unconvincingly. He would still discuss it with Harry, but he hoped he would agree to stay away.
"If that is all, then you should all rest. I fear that there will be little of that to be had for the foreseeable future," Dumbledore suggested.
The two men and his deputy bid their farewells and exited, leaving behind a thoughtful headmaster.
There was much he was missing; of that he was certain. Harry's ability had always been beyond his peers, but this was something else entirely. He could feel that there was more to it, though he could not fathom what that was.
"Perhaps some discreet enquiries will be needed," he muttered as he stroked the plumage of his familiar.
The coming months were shaping up to be dark indeed and Albus Dumbledore felt every year he had lived. Knowing that there was much to be done, he decided to turn in himself.
When he woke, his work to put an end to Tom would begin once more, though ultimately, it would not be down to him. Having seen what he had this evening, he was filled with hope that Harry could do what all others had failed and finally bring an end to the man that had plagued magical Britain for so long.
(BREAK)
Harry woke feeling empty, somehow less than what he had been the previous day. Although he felt the burden of loss, he felt somewhat lighter in a way he could not describe. His arm still tingled, courtesy of the potions that had been administered to him, but he could move it once more with little difficulty. It ached but nothing more and would likely be healed by the next morning.
With a sigh, he turned to be greeted by the sight of Sirius asleep in the chair next to his bed, snoring lightly and his brow creased from the frown he wore. His wand hung from his hand. Evidently, he had tried to stay awake and act as a guard of sorts.
The thought warmed the boy as he reached out and shook the man awake.
"Wazzat?" Sirius asked, startled, his eyes wide and searching.
"Just me, Sirius."
The man smiled as he stood and wrapped his arms around the boy.
"I know you don't like it, but I don't care," he mumbled.
It took several moments for his godfather to loosen his grip. When he did so, he simply stared at Harry, shaking his head.
"I thought I'd bloody lost you, you prat," he chided.
"I'm alright," Harry assured him.
He was, physically at least. He was not ready to confront the whirling thoughts of his mind, not yet.
Sirius nodded as he retook his seat.
"What the hell am I going to do with you?" he huffed.
"There's nothing that can be done. He will keep coming for me until one of us is dead. I may not be able to kill him yet, but one day I will."
"Your parents would kill me if I didn't try and talk you into hiding. There's no shame in it, Harry."
"They did that and look at what happened."
"It won't be the same," Sirius dismissed.
"I won't run from him, Sirius. I want him dead more than he wants the same for me. I haven't spent all this time preparing to hide from him."
"You're just as stubborn as your mother."
"Who else has more right than me to kill him? Him and the rat were top of my list and one of them is gone."
"I saw that," Sirius replied with a grin, "but he is not Wormtail, Harry. You saw for yourself how dangerous he is."
"And I will be even better than him. It may not be today or even in a year, but I will be."
"I don't doubt you, Harry. I just don't want to have to bury you next to them."
"You won't. I'm not stupid enough to walk into a fight with him when I know I am not ready. Last night happened," he conceded with a shrug "I won't allow it to again."
Sirius sighed defeatedly.
"Let's not think about that now. What we do need to talk about is school."
"There's nothing to talk about. I will finish the rest of my NEWTS next year and will be starting my apprenticeships in September."
"So, you still wish to be here?"
Harry nodded.
"I will not upend my life because of him. I am not afraid, Sirius. Besides, he will have a much more difficult time getting to me here than he will anywhere else. I know this castle just as well as you did."
"Alright, but if anything happens, you get out and come to me, promise?"
Harry rolled his eyes.
"I promise."
"Good, now, what are you doing for the summer?"
"I haven't thought that far ahead," Harry answered honestly. "I will go home for a while. I think some time to myself will do me good."
Sirius frowned deeply.
"I suppose Dumbledore will be pleased to hear it."
Harry was about to correct the man but chose not to. If they believed he was staying with the Dursley's, they would be less likely to contact him.
"I will come to Grimmauld Place, so don't worry. I promised I'd make up for not seeing you much this year."
Sirius smiled brightly.
"Well, I will look forward to that. Besides, if you're intent on fighting the bastard, I have a few things that will be useful for you," he added unhappily, losing himself in his thoughts. "How do you feel, about killing those men last night?" he asked eventually.
Harry shrugged.
"It was either them or me or Fleur. I won't lose sleep over a few Death Eaters."
Sirius nodded sceptically but grinned, nonetheless.
"Should I even ask what is going on there?"
Harry released a deep breath.
"I don't know," he answered with a shrug. "If she was smart, she'd run a mile now."
Sirius shook his head.
"She won't do that. If you saw the sate of her last night when she thought you were dead, I would guess she won't want you out of her sight. Bloody hell, Harry, that was heart-breaking to see."
He felt his own heart sink at the words.
"We haven't really spoken about anything. It's like there's something there…I don't know. I don't know any of this stuff."
Sirius offered him a sympathetic smile.
"I could give you all the advice in the world, but this is something you should figure out for yourself. The only thing I will say is be honest with her, no matter what that is."
Harry nodded his understanding as the curtains were pulled back revealing Madame Pomfrey.
"Excellent, you're awake, Mr Potter," she greeted him as she drew her wand and began casting spells on him, frowning before nodding thoughtfully. "Your arm is healing well but your magic is still unsettled. I would prefer you to remain in my care for a few more days but I have no doubt you will ignore my wishes."
"More than likely," he agreed, eliciting a laugh from his godfather.
"As I thought," the woman muttered. "Under the circumstances, you are doing remarkably well. If you insist on it, you may leave when you are ready but not before eating some breakfast."
He nodded, not having thought about food but he was hungry.
"Well, I imagine you have a lot to do," Sirius said as he stood. "I will try to keep everyone off your back for a while, but please, stay in touch, Harry. Don't make me come and lock you up so I know where you are."
"I will," he promised.
Sirius left and the matron brought him a tray of food. When he was finished and allowed to leave, he immediately headed for the seventh floor, unusually without his cloak that he hoped Fleur still had. He would be devastated were it to be lost.
Still, the odd feeling he had felt continued to plague him as he completed his ablutions. He showered and even removed the small amount of scruff from his chin using a barbering spell that Tom had taught him.
He paused at the thought of the absent voice, wondering just what had happened to him before shaking his head of the thoughts. That was a rabbit hole he was not ready to face yet. There were other things he needed to deal with before that.
First on the list was returning Krum's wand to him. The boy would never know just how it had saved his life when he needed it most. Had it not cooperated with him; he would have been killed where he had fallen.
Ensuring his trunk was packed, he shrunk it before placing it in his pocket and taking his leave.
He had initially planned to see Serana, but again, there were too many uncertainties around that. Would she know that Tom was no longer with him? Could he even communicate with her anymore? It was one of the many things he would have to investigate during his time away.
When he arrived at the Durmstrang ship, it was to an atmosphere of confusion. The students on board were packing things into boxes and paid him no mind, not until he accosted one of them at least.
"Is Viktor here?" he asked.
The boy mumbled in a language he did not understand and left, returning a few moments later with a scowling Krum.
"I just wanted to return this to you," he explained, offering the wand to the older boy.
Viktor's eyes widened as he all but snatched it from him and inspected it closely.
"I did not think I would see it again," he said in broken English. "Thank you."
"It's yours," Harry returned with a shrug. "Are you leaving already?"
Krum nodded, scowling once more.
"Da, Karkaroff is gone. He took his things and ran," he responded. "Ve can get the ship back to the school. We did all the rowing here anyvay."
Harry was not surprised that Karkaroff fled. The man was a coward and would be high on Voldemort's list of people he wanted dead.
"Well, good luck, Viktor. It was nice meeting you," he replied, holding out a hand which Krum took.
"You too, Harry Potter. Thank you for vat you did last night. I do not know what happened, but you likely stopped me doing something I vould regret."
Harry nodded as he released his grip.
"Take care, Viktor."
The boy returned the gesture before continuing with his work. He hadn't spent much time with the Bulgarian, but he wasn't so bad as far as people went.
Taking a deep breath, he turned his attention to the Beauxbatons' carriage a short distance away and began heading towards it. He didn't know what to say to Fleur or what he was doing, but he took Sirius's advice to heart, and as he knocked, he knew that honesty was all he had.
The door opened a few moments later, revealing a rather tired looking Madame Maxime who stepped aside and allowed him entry.
"I am pleased to see you well, Mr Potter," she said sincerely, "and on a personal note, I wanted to thank you for being there for 'er this year. 'Er school life 'as not been easy."
Harry nodded as the woman led him to a door and knocked. It was answered a moment later by Apolline who immediately swept him into her arms and planted a kiss on each of his cheeks.
"You 'ad me so worried, you silly boy. When Fleur came back last night and told me you were alive I…"
She choked on her words as she shook her head at him.
"I'm okay, Mrs Delacour," he assured.
The woman nodded and gave him a watery smile.
"She will be pleased you 'ave come. She 'as been fretting about you all night. We all 'ave."
He gave her an understanding nod before stepping past her, only to be ploughed into by a silvery blur that almost sent him flying.
He chuckled as the little girl turned red with the effort of chastising him in French, her temper seemingly too far gone to do so in English.
"Gabrielle," Sebastien called. "'Arry has endured enough, non?"
Unabashed, the little veela narrowed her eyes at him.
"You made me cry, 'Arry."
"I'm sorry," he replied, at a loss as to what else he was to do.
She nodded and walked to her father, jabbering on in her native tongue once more.
"I did tell you," Sebastien sighed. "You do not want to upset a veela."
"No, I've learnt that by now."
Sebastien snorted.
"I won't ask how you are. I imagine you have had enough of that. I am pleased to see you doing so well, considering the alternative."
"It was a close thing," Harry agreed, reminded that there was only one reason he had survived. "Is she busy?"
"She is very slowly packing her things. She is adamant on staying until she knows that you're okay."
"I will speak to her," he offered.
The man nodded gratefully and pointed to the door behind him.
He took a deep breath, bracing himself before he knocked. The response he received was muffled French, words he did not understand.
"It's me," he replied.
The running of feet was suddenly heard before the door was thrown open. Wide-eyed, she stared at him as she slowly began to blush, evidently uncertain of what to say.
"'Arry," she breathed.
"Can we talk?"
She frowned and nodded as she stepped aside to allow him entry.
They simply looked at one another for a few moments before she broke the silence, her guard seemingly up.
"You said you wanted to talk?"
He nodded.
"I don't know what to say now I'm here," he said in just a whisper, "But I'm sorry."
"You're sorry?"
"For making you feel the way that you did last night," he explained. "It wasn't until I thought about how I'd feel if I hadn't got there that I realised. It would have broken me."
"That's twice you've been very open since last night. What 'appened?"
"If anything, it taught me that life can come to an end at any time. If I didn't come back, I would have gone with everything between us left as it is. I couldn't do that to you."
Fleur swallowed deeply before responding.
"What is there between us 'Arry?"
"I wish I knew. What I do know is that I meant what I said last night. If it came to it, I would die for you all over again."
She shook her head as a tear broke free.
"I do not want you to die for me, 'Arry. I want you to live for me."
He felt a tear roll down his cheek, but a hint of the maelstrom of emotions he was experiencing.
"I want that too," he returned sincerely, "but I need some time. I need time to heal and to come to terms with everything that happened last night."
She nodded her understanding.
"When will I see you again?"
He could only shrug.
"Soon. If you take Hedwig, you can write to me. She's the only owl that can make it through my wards."
"You promise that this isn't goodbye?" she pressed, taking his hands in her own.
"I promise. You will be the first person I come to see when I'm ready."
"I 'ad better be, 'Arry Potter," she choked.
Not knowing what else to do, he wrapped his arms around her and revelled in the radiating warmth. Now, he felt so wrong, but holding her in his arms was the contrary and he hoped beyond hope that he was strong enough to move forward with her.
"Write to me," he all but demanded.
She looked up as she nodded, and they once again settled into the comfort of looking into the eyes of the other. Daringly, she closed the distance between them and pressed her lips to his.
For a moment, he allowed himself to indulge in such, allow the same warmth to spread through him that had the night of the ball. When they broke apart, his mind was not plagued with doubt nor questioning, only the desire to experience that feeling over and over again.
"I will," she whispered.
With nothing more to be said, he took his leave, bidding farewell to the remaining Delacours as he did so.
Three Days Later
He had found a beautiful grove of apple trees whilst exploring the forest surrounding his property. Only a short distance away, a gentle stream passed through that fed into the river at the bottom of the mountain, adding to the ambience.
He hadn't considered doing what he'd done until he had happened upon this place. When he had, it simply felt right, a passing idea that had come to fruition.
He had meant what he said to Fleur. He did have need of healing and he hadn't a clue on where to begin, but this was it.
He took a knee as he admired his work; a large intricate stone adorned with a serpent statue on either side.
Voldemort yet lived, but what Tom once was had passed on, and it was fitting to give him a tribute, even if he was the only person that would mourn or even visit.
He sighed as he ran his fingers across the words he had lovingly carved, the burden of loss lessening considerably now that his work was complete.
In Memory of
Tom Marvolo Riddle
31/12/1926 – 24/06/1995
May He Find the Peace and Love
That Life Never Granted