Tick, tock. That was the sound, humans connected to the passing of time ever since they figured they could measure it by connecting a spring and wheels. And normally he didn’t mind that sound. He wasn’t scared of the knowledge that time was simply passing and that he did nothing to use it before it did so. Maybe he really was used to it, but it was different. Somehow it was different now. He hadn’t even actually died, but what had caused him to literally nearly slid out of this life, troubled him more than anything. Yet again within such a short time he had been confronted twice with how quick everything could be over, how mortal a human being was, regardless of their ancestry or abilities.
Human life was but a blink in mankind’s history and mankind’s history was equal in Mother Earth’s history. But, even a mere blink could cause a lot more than words or hard work would ever achieve. Still he did nothing. Well, he did blink. Though he wasn’t sure what that blinking would cause, other than preventing his eyes from getting dry or – letting time pass. Was he to blame? No. He had been told that in such situations, it was okay to just lie on a sofa, and stare at the opposite sofa. What he believed was not okay however, was to just stand in a room and watch someone like him doing that.
“Why are you still standing there.”, he whispered at last, making one of the two startle. “There’s nothing you can do for me at the moment.”
“If you say so,”, a calm, soft voice answered, making the young man startle again and spin around in addition.
“Actually, I meant the bleached scarecrow.”, Harry mumbled.
“Scarecrow?”, murmured Draco angrily and turned back to him.
“Flatten your hair, for Heaven’s sake. That’s my style, not yours. The look of a ghost after a roller coaster ride doesn’t suit you.”
“A what?”
“Oh sure – I forgot, you grew up as far away from Muggles as any of our kind possibly can. Missed a lot of interesting things there,”
“You know, to be honest, I don’t give a damn what you’re talking about and whether you think there’s nothing I can do for – ”
“Then you aren’t to stay here.”, said the man behind him.
“And you aren’t to decide that.”
“Maybe that’s what you think, but – ”
“It’s true.”, said Harry. “You aren’t to decide, but since we share the same opinion, and obviously an issue of rather grand scale, I’d say, you ask him to leave before I find the strength to do it my unpleasant way. And none of us wants that to happen, Mr.”
“Fine, then I’m leaving!”, snarled Draco. “But don’t you think you can just throw me out of your house,”
“Kreacher,”
He had only spoken in a whisper, but the demanding sound was enough for the Elf to appear with a racket that almost tore the ceiling apart. However, it was only Draco to startle again. And this time he even shrieked like Ron did when seeing a spider.
“I hope I didn’t disturb you?”
“Oh, not at all, Master Harry.”, the old Elf said, bowing briefly. “I was just studying Master Regulus’ locket again. It twinkles funny in the attic’s dim light.”
“That’s because the dim light up there is funny ever since I cleaned the windows.”, Harry sighed. “Never mind, erm, would it be asked too much if you could escort Draco ou- no – to his home? The current one, I mean, not the manor of course.”
“Of course, yes, and of course not. It is not asked too much from Kreacher.”
“Alright, so please do that for me. Then you can go back – ”
“What the fuck!”, Draco raged as his wrist was grabbed with unexpected force of the bony fingers, but could twist himself free, several times.
“To whatever – ”
“That’s not how this works, Harry! You don’t – ”
“You want to do. And yes, Draco, as I said, it’s exactly how this is going to work. It’s my house, and as much as I strangely don’t dislike your presence anymore, I just don’t need your sympathy right now. It’s getting a little too much lately, for my taste. And you’re well aware my taste is far off yours, in various concerns. So, please make it easy for Kreacher. It’s no one’s use if either of you splinches.”
“Harry!”
But the Elf had now grabbed his leg and they were gone, leaving the noise in the others’ ears, fading to mix with the ticking of the old grandfather clock.
“Why did you actually throw him out?”, Harry shrugged.
“Dunno. Maybe I didn’t want to jump up and kiss him. You know, seems a bit inappropriate now that I’ve – you know – er – ”
“Indeed,”, Carlisle remained remarkably calm in his opinion.
“And because I’m sick of just having to look at you.”
“At me?”
“Yes, I mean, why? Why him? Does he even exist?”
“Him? Who?”
“Don’t take me for a complete nutter; that’s everyone else’s job.”
For some moments there was only the clock again, and their quiet breathing, as for sounds. But the air was sizzling with something else: a mix of panic, excitement and possibly relief.
“He does.”, whispered Carlisle’s voice into the dusty room. “And we have an agreement.”
“That’s good to know. But it could even be better, if I knew that you possessed some wonder tonic that would speed up the course of time within the course of time, if you know what I mean.”
~~#~~
Doors he didn’t mean to open. So many times in the past days he had imagined what might await him once he stood on the other side. Apart from seeing his colleagues, his friends again, there was nothing pleasant to the idea of walking through. A pale hand laid on his shoulder. Worried greyish blue eyes stared down at his, not caring about the little height difference. The bridge seemed straight.
They were covered by Death’s cloak, covered from the eyes of the few people passing them as if being in a different world. The hand moved further up, onto his cheek, where gentle fingers brushed away some sticky hair and salty tears. Another time of those many in only days, but not the same.
Life. It changed people every day. Sometimes a bit, sometimes radically. Every day something new. Today, it had been the first day someone else than himself had shaved away Harry’s rapidly growing beard. The fingers brushed over the now soft, nearly even skin and if someone had told him two years ago about that particular touch, that he might welcome it, he would have ripped their head off with his bare hands.
One of them joined the pale, held it near. His breath calm, he closed his eyes. Minutes in a different world. There was no use denying he needed it. Though ashamed of admitting it to himself, he was even longing for it. He was longing for that kind of touch without tears. However, tears were inevitable, again. So was that touch, he had first felt in a lonely room of a ruin, and even more, in his former room n The Burrow, where it had troubled him so much that he had allowed himself to enjoy it. Now, years later, he simply accepted it. It was only every once in a while anyway. And practically no one knew. Not the people who passed by, not the woman who entered the Auror Office without noticing them and not Hannah, no one but – them. And Ginevra. Probably Luna did, but she would never tell either.
Luna. That would have been the name. And Lily, like his mother; by her resting place he had built her a little memorial. To remember how short life was, how quick it could change entirely. If there was going to be another girl, she would carry that name which had been meant for her sister who had crossed the river too early, to remember that there was always hope for something good. For some happiness. That life went on, even if that hole might never close. Though for now, a blanket had been thrown over it. The soothing blanket of touches he drowned in, against his own will which though didn’t count now. It was only part of his will. The other part let it happen; even encouraged it.
When they parted, the blanket was gone and the hole back to the eye. But he was ready to face it, ready to pin it on a wall and show everyone that it was there and nothing to be afraid of, but a good reason to carry on fighting for life and happiness. And the knowledge that he was not entirely alone to carry that weight.
“Thank you.”, he whispered.
“Any time.”, replied the other, as gentle.
“The last time.”, Harry corrected him, staid.
“Last?”
“The last.”
He could see a castle collapse in the blue, but it was necessary. It had been necessary. Life was a path of coping with facts. And as much as he had, and still would have to, Draco had to be ready likewise. None but them stood in the long corridor now and Harry removed the Invisibility Cloak. He stored it, they straightened their clothes and brought their messed hair in order. One mutual deep breath later, they pushed the double door open, together and as ready they could be now.
Immediate silence. All eyes on them. Gawain Robards dropped a number of folders he had meant to entrust Ron with, not noticing them fall to the floor. Determinedness. Determined green eyes drifted across the room.
“Shall I – ”, Draco whispered.
“No.”, Harry said when he noticed something on his desk. “I think I’ll be fine. Go back to Hogwarts. I can do that. I’m not alone.”
“Take care.”, he softly squeezed Harry’s left shoulder before he went without any more words.
“Tz.”, Ron chuckled when the door fell shut.
“Keep your inappropriate disgust where it belongs.”, Harry snarled coldly. “I’m not really interested in that.”, what he was interested in, was the objects on his desk, which he approached, ignoring all those stunned looks that followed him.
“Okay?”, frowned Ron. “Er – I don’t know what that is. It’s been here for days. Didn’t touch it.”
“Francis.”, Harry aspirated hollow, his outwardly emotionless gaze on the sealed folder with red Dragon skin cover and the glass bowl that contained clear water and a white flower petal, a lily.
“What?”
“Francis.”, he repeated.
“Wait – that Healer?”
“Yes.”
“What about him?”
“Just another fish, in an ocean of tears.”
“Sorry?”, Harry though only nodded at the bowl, just in time for Ron to see the petal sink and transform into a little white fish that now lively swam in gentle circles. “Merlin’s beard!”
“Yes.”, chuckled Harry, with the first, publicly shown, honest smile in more than a week. “Merlin’s beard.”, Harry carefully removed the seal and opened the folder.
“Bloody hell!”, Ron’s blue eyes popped out on the sight.
“Right again.”, Harry smirked malicious on the red photograph, and though the colour was from blood, it pleased him to see it – and like usual, he swallowed down his doubt about his sanity with his godfather’s far away voice in his head, about the nature of people.
“And what’s that?”, moaned Ron when Harry picked up the delicate silver chain that laid on the photo. “Wedding rings, or what?”
“Wedding rings.”, Harry confirmed, noticing that also he had received a sort of confirmation that had actually been unnecessary to wait for ever since he had found the flowers on their grave for the first time. “June ninth.”
“I know what day it is,”
“No. Not two thousand, June ninth, nineteen seventy-nine.”
“What’s happened on that day?”, Harry shortly lifted the chain a bit, laid it around his neck and slipped the rings under his clothes.
“Lily Evans married one of the only two people she really loved until then.”
“You know when they married? No one ever got to know that – ”
“Hermione’s had too much influence on you. You only see what your eyes want to see. You only believe what has proven evidence, while it’s an Auror’s job to look exactly past those things. Something you should seriously consider,”, he closed the folder, took it in hand, reached out and slightly smacked it on Ron’s head.
“Ow!”
“Don’t act as if that hurt you.”, Harry chuckled angrily and put the folder back down on his desk. “You know nothing about pain.”
“Don’t I?”
“No. Not even slightly. And you know what? I’m not sure whether to pity or to envy you.”
“What?”
“You heard me right. It’s not over yet. You’ve lost a niece; and I can see in your eyes that it hurt you a lot; but I have lost my daughter. And I won’t pity myself. That doesn’t bring her back. That won’t make me see her grow up. But I’ll do my best to encourage everyone who’ll grant my future children and all others a better life. May it be the white fish Francis Carlisle, or the purple fighter Ju, or the red sister Jeanne – everyone wonders how a certain kind of blood can make me happy while I curse cruelty? Because it makes me know my grandest angel hasn’t left the world yet. Because it makes me know that there is justice for everyone.”
“And who passes judgement on them?”, asked Robards. “Who passes judgement on the – Peverell Sisters?”
“Life.”, he looked at his boss now.
“Life?”
“Life.”
“Life – ”
“I don’t think they’d do that if they hadn’t received punishment for all these murders long before they committed them. Don’t look at me like that, Sir; I know what you think. If I received so much punishment, why don’t I go out there and slay criminals? Well, because I can’t. Probably because I’ve grown up differently, or because I’ve still seen fewer horrors, I don’t know. But for now, I’m fine with letting them do. That’s their path, mine is a less bloody one. Yet that doesn’t mean it’s not the same. After all, I’m dead as well.”
“Dead?”, Ron gasped. “What’re you talking about?”
“I’m dead, if you remember. But life goes on, and death is a part of life. I accepted that years ago, If I think about it. And when the moment comes again, I am ready to face it another time. I’m not afraid of Death. Death should be afraid of me. And my children to come.”
~~#~~
“We could ramp it, you know?”
“A ramp? Are you NAFF?”, she shrieked that every living soul in the street could hear her due to the lifted charms and some neighbours stuck their heads out into the hot summer air. “A ramp up to the first floor? From the kitchen? DOES MY FOREHEAD HAVE `HI, I’M PADMA´ WRITTEN OVER? If any, we scalp it and limit it to the ground! A ramp! Honestly, pin an umbrella onto your head if you can’t deal with the weather!”
“I only meant to – ”
“I know what you meant to.”, his wife huffed when most of the heads were back in the cooler rooms and the windows shut. “It’s not about the stairs. How many times do I have to tell you? It’s my family! The people who never repair anything as long as it’s just intact enough for no one to get hurt. That’s why I agreed with you. Not because I wanted to get away from that bloody stair. Really, Harry, rather help me hammering those nails in there so we can have better stairs that don’t kill anybody.”
“Nice to see it doesn’t affect you as much,”, he snorted back.
“Oh it does!”, Ginevra raged when wiping a loose curl over her head where the sweat glued it to the rest of its plaited kind.
“Fine! Stairs!”
“Yes! STAIRS! I LOVE YOU!”
“I LOVE YOU EVEN MORE!”
“Holy shit! What’s going on here?”, another ginger tried to climb over the damaged kissing gate with a box and three bottles of Butterbeer in hand.
“LOVE!”, Ginevra continued yelling as Harry had likewise climbed over a barrel with wooden boards that stood in between the brick walls.
“I can hear it,”
“Yes. You should know by now.”, meant Harry and did as Ginevra had asked him to.
“HEY! CAN’T YOU READ?”
“Cool down, Gin – ”
“Building sight! Keep out!”
“I CAN READ!”, Ron barked back. “I only came to bring greetings from Mum!”, he shook the things he carried as demonstratively as he could without dropping them. “And it’s a nice excuse to get out for lunch, even if it means facing a real scorcher. By the way, the neighbours are staring.”
“I DON’T GIVE A DAMN!”
“Er – ”
“She doesn’t give a damn, Ron.”, sighed Harry, accepting a bottle of Butterbeer. “First, they know what’s going on, second, they can’t see what exactly we do in here. So, she doesn’t give a damn. And thanks.”
“What the – ”, Ron gasped when his friend opened the bottle, climbed over to a heap of trash, poured the content out of an empty window to Ron’s right and refilled the bottle with clear water with only a snap of his fingers.
“Sorry. No beer.”
“But it’s Butterbeer!”, moaned Ron.
“Which is a beer. Thanks, but no alcohol.”
“It’s Butterbeer!”, Ron repeated. “It’s got like no alcohol!”
“Exactly. Not absolutely no alcohol.”
“You can’t blame Butterbeer for what Firewhisky did – ”
“Great that you remember what I don’t,”, Harry sat down with his wife; in the shadow of the ceiling that just fell on their first provisory stair; who gladly took a grand gulp of the bottle she had received from her brother, “But you don’t understand. Even if it’s little enough to be sold to underage teenagers, it’s alcohol.”
“Blimey!”, Ron took a seat on a bucket he turned upside-down. “Sandwiches?”, he opened the box he had been told to deliver as well.
“More likely, thank you.”, Harry got himself one with goat cheese and salad, but Ginevra refused, the already half empty bottle pressed to her mouth.
“Happy birthday in advance.”
“Oh shut it. There’s enough time for that tomorrow.”
“So?”
“So what?”, Ginevra panted at her brother and pulled up a strap of her sticky top.
“You’re really building it manually?”
“Seems so, doesn’t it?”
“But you haven’t got any experience – ”
“Believe me, we’ve got enough experience by now.”, Harry chuckled. “And we’ve got help.”
“Help? I thought you didn’t want anyone to help you – ”
“Right, but we consulted a specialist for the structure engineering – and installations later. After all we need a couple of Wormhole Pits as well.”
“Sorry?”
“See? We’re better informed on building houses than you are. Godrics Hollow’s sewerage literally stinks to high heaven in rainy weeks, so since there’s an alternative, we’d rather give the sludge an immediate recycling and send it back to its long in the past source.”
“Funny.”, grumbled Ron when they finally shared a snicker. “And who’s your specialist for – er – crap dumping and stuff?”
“Barney.”
“Which Barney? Where is he?”
“In his pub.”, Ginevra said. “Yes, pub. He runs a pub in London. But he previously worked for both wizarding and Muggle building companies.”
“Honestly, how much do you and your wife talk, apart from arguing?”
“Hey! We’re at least not arguing as loud as you two do,”
“Sure.”, Harry took a fine sip of water. “But we weren’t arguing. It was a civilised exchange of opinions.”
“Thought so. And what’s that got to do with – ”
“Hermione suggested we’d ask him.”
“Oh. Never mind, er, you got any idea why Muggles decorate their churches with black drapery? Seen one on my way here. Next time you tell me precisely where in Godric’s Hollow I have to go looking for you. It’s been quite a march.”
“The priest died.”, mumbled Ginevra, giving Harry a worried glance when he avoided their eyes and preferred to look at the bricks to his left instead.
“Hmm?”
“Your question, Ron.”
“Oh! The priest died?”
“Yes.”, Harry gargled. “They’ll bury him next week.”
“He was old, Harry.”
“It doesn’t matter how old he was. He’s dead.”
“Look, I had a chat with his successor yesterday. It’s his grandnephew. He’s really kind. And he knows who and what we are. He knows that it’s your parents’ house we’re rebuilding here and he knows – ”
“I don’t care whether that grandnephew knows our story.”, Harry said grim, still to the bricks, ignoring Ron’s frown. “He’s not his granduncle.”
“What?”, Ginevra gasped quietly.
“I said, he’s not his granduncle. I could talk to him as well. But he’s not his granduncle. He’s not even much older than we are. He doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t know time.”
“Time, mate?”
“Time.”
“What’s that thing with time again?”
“Not again,”, Harry confronted him with the coldest face he could give him, “Always. How can he preach of salvation or anything alike, when he himself has seen less time than most of his village’s inhabitants? He’s been growing up and living in Belfast. He knows nothing about Godric’s Hollow. He only knows what his granduncle has told him. He doesn’t know Godric’s Hollow. He doesn’t know a thing. Not the village, not time.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just what I said.”
“But you haven’t grown up here either – ”
“But I know Godric’s Hollow.”
“He does.”, confirmed Ginevra. “He’s been wandering the streets in almost every free minute he’s had ever since – it happened – ”
“I know the people here. I know the Muggles here, the Witches, the Wizards – the animals – ”, his eyes zoomed up at Crookshanks who had hopped onto the incomplete wall high above their sitting place.
“Blimey! Crookshanks! Where do you come from!”
“He’s followed us.”, said Ginevra. “Hermione thought he’d run away, but he’s followed us. I didn’t tell her yet. He’s been waiting by the door of the parish community centre the moment we arrived. He walked all the way here, on his own. He knew where we’d go and he went here and waited for us.”
“No!”, Ron chuckled disbelievingly.
“Yes.”, the others aspirated at once.
“He’s gone home with us.”, Harry said.
“Home?”
“Remember Mum’s letter we found at Grimmauld Place? The one to Sirius?”
“Er – vaguely – ”
“Last week, Crookshanks showed it to me.”, Ron only frowned heavier. “He showed me how she’d written it.”
~~#~~
Billions of stars twinkled on a clear dark blue sky, forming a sparkling veil that spanned over peaceful roofs which still flickered from the heat of the day that had laid to rest with the sun like the village’s inhabitants, hours ago already. The calm silence was occasionally broken by a gentle sigh, indicating a soothing cooler breeze that travelled the streets and alleys every once in a while and made the crumpled leaves rustle. No moon. Only the stars, far away from the ever burning lights of a town or even city, made the ginger brush glow under their veil as it swayed seemingly on its own, while bronze eyes reflected them multiply. Those bronze eyes studied a pair of green ones, directed onto the veil and reflecting the stars alike, behind even more reflecting glasses. A third pair was hidden from the cat’s view. The owner had nestled herself to her husband’s chest and was close to doze off. To stop herself from drifting into dreams, she raised her voice in a whisper.
“He’s watching us, isn’t he?”
“Yes.”, Harry breathed to the sky.
“Thanks for confirming.”
“Confirming what?”
“That I’m not mad. Ron never believed me either when I told him that I’d dreamt of watching things that had obviously been in the past and woken up to see Crookshanks staring at me. I swear, it’s been like that. Not only once.”
“I never said you’re mad. And I didn’t confirm anything.”
“Er – ”, her eyes studied his hand that fondled hers on his collarbone.
“I’ve said the truth. I’ve had such dreams as well. I’ve really seen her writing the letter. And she once took him with her to Aunt Petunia. I’ve watched one of their secret conversations I’ve told you about. And he – ”, Harry gasped and broke off.
“What’s it?”
“He’s – ”, he gargled.
“Harry?”, Ginevra whispered softly, seriously worried when he stopped stroking her hand and laid his on his mouth instead, breathing heavy through it.
“I’ve seen my own birth – ”
“Er – ”
“Yes – ”, Harry chuckled feebly. “I mean, how many people get the chance to see that? And I’ve been – I wouldn’t say forced to – I’ve been granted to see it – by a cat – ”
“He’s not really a cat.”
“I know. He’s half a Kneazle. Hermione’s said that often enough. And other wise I’d explode every time he’s near me. But I’ve looked it up. There’s nothing about telepathic abilities. In no book I found.”
“You’ve been searching books?”, Ginevra giggled.
“Don’t mistake me for your brother.”
“Sorry. So he’s really doing that?”
“Yes. But I don’t know why – why’s he showing me that all? Why’s everything trying to make me aware of her?”
“Her?”
“Professor Burbage.”
“Er – she’s d– ”
“Dead, I know. What’s the use of showing me that there’s another person who was very fond of me and got killed by Voldemort? What’s the use?”, he quietly muttered at a satellite passing by. “Why trying to make me know her better?”
“You never mentioned her – ”
“Well that’s the point! I didn’t care about her! She’s just been another teacher I never had! Only because she’s shown Hermione how to use tampons – why should that make me care about a teacher? But she’s been there – she’s been there all the time – she’s been a friend – and I had no clue – ”
“Could you please tell me what exactly you’re talking about there?”
“It all started when I had to watch her die. I watched it through Voldemort’s eyes. Hermione tried to make me believe it’s only natural that I kept dreaming of that vision all throughout the year we were on the run. But I don’t know – there was something to that, and not only the brutal way he killed her – in front of – er – and then there was Luna – she’s nicked that photo from Flitwick – ”
“The photo of the choir.”
“Yes. And she’s on it. I know it’s her. I’ve seen her in a memory. One of his memories. One of the memories Luna gave me along with the photo.”
“You never said she’s been – ”, Ginevra at last pricked up her ears.
“She tried to intervene, before Mum came to tell them off.”
“Sirius and – ”
“Yes. But I never really cared about that. Yes, I considered it, then, at Christmas, you know, when I went to church alone, but I – I’ve been too busy to really think of her again. And then suddenly comes Crookshanks and shows me his memories of her?”
“Wait – she’s been – ”
“There when Mum wrote that letter to Sirius. I’ve been there as well. I’ve been sitting on her lap, next to Mum’s desk and she’s been trying to push me – er – push Crookshanks off her papers. I’ve watched it all from on the desk. You really have no idea how strange it is to look at yourself, being just a baby – ”
“That must be weird, yes.”
“And they’ve made jokes about Sirius while Mum wrote. She’d had to write it three times because Charity and Crookshanks and I had distracted her so much. And she’s been – she’s been at my – at my birth – ”
“Really? I mean – how exactly did you see your birth?”
“I didn’t actually see my birth. Crookshanks’d sat on the kitchen table first, watching them all go – crazy.”, he couldn’t resist a laugh.
“Whom?”
“All of them. I mean, Remus, Wormtail, Sirius, Hagrid – they’d all been there – ”
“James as well?”
“Hello? He’d been the centre of the riot!”, Harry chuckled. “I’ve seen quite a bit of him through memories now, but that’s the only time I’ve seen him honestly out of sorts. He’d staggered up and down the kitchen while they’d argued. He’d even cried. And every time Mum had screamed upstairs, they’d all winced so terribly, they’d nearly fainted. Well, James did faint then.”
“No – ”, Ginevra giggled again.
“He did. Right when I’d been there.”, Ginevra did her best to swallow down her crying, and she felt Harry doing the same, before his telling became faster. “But he didn’t care. He only sped up and Crookshanks after him while the others tried to – and Charity meant to shoo Crookshanks off the bed, but he wouldn’t let her and then I already saw myself – well, not really – the nurse had already wrapped me in a towel and given me to Mum – she was so exhausted, but I’ve actually never seen anyone happier – and she looked at Crookshanks and at me – and then up to him – and she asked him if he’d like to hold me, but he was so scared he would drop me or something like that – I didn’t really understand – he stuttered and mumbled and Mum only laughed, but he took me – on his arms – and – and – I could – Crookshanks could see his face – it was – I don’t know – how to say – ”
“Wait – ”, Ginevra’s brows narrowed. “You’re talking about – you’re not talking about – he’s been there? He’s been – at your birth? Severus?”
“Er – I’ve said that – ”
“No. You haven’t said who’d run upstairs,”
“Haven’t I?”
“No,”, nor had Severus ever told her personally.
“Oh – sorry – but – but what I wanted to say – ”, Harry swallowed again, heavily, “She’s been at my birth, you know? She’s been Mum’s best friend and I hadn't even gotten to know before she died – and she’s also been his best friend, next to Mum – or perhaps Regulus. Crookshanks showed me another memory. It must have been somewhere in autumn ninety-six. Or was it spring? I couldn’t tell. They sat on a bench in the Clock Tower Courtyard. And he gave her a ring.”
“A – ring?”
“Yes. A golden ring. She must have been wanting that ring for a long time and they’ve been joking around and he slagged Slughorn off. That’s why I know when it must have been, approximately. The things they said. They’ve been like siblings – and I never knew – I never noticed – ”
“A golden ring – I’ve – he’s worn a golden ring all that year long – I’ve seen it – but I didn’t – ”
“I’ve seen him wearing it too. He – he must have – pulled it off her hand – unseen – before Nagini could – ”
“Oh my god – ”, whimpered Ginevra.
“Yes.”, Harry aspirated, no longer trying to hide his emotions. “And you know – what’s worst?”, he cried quietly. “That I thought I had – that people keep saying I had – gone through much – but – but – they know nothing – they don’t know anything – nor do I – actually – ”
“Harry I – I’m sure I don’t really need to tell you that, as that’s your mindset already anyway, but he once told me that no matter what the world throws at you, if you have something worth living for, you will live. And that you can get beaten down a hundred times, but if you don’t get up and make the best of it, the fault of your destruction will be your own, eventually. We’ve come this far, Harry. Life is a huge pile of shit, but flies obviously enjoy that. I’d rather be the fly than the grass beneath. And I believe that’s also what he would want. We’ll make the best of it, like him. Because, I think, with you, he made the absolute best of it.”
Stars were reflecting in a pair of round glasses. In a pair of green eyes that couldn’t see them anymore. They were reflecting in salty water – and in bronze eyes of a cat that was only a half, but the other half was what made it caring enough to get up, walk over to them and lie down on Harry’s stomach, snuggled to Ginevra as well. The purring could not erase their pain, but it was soothing enough to make them fall asleep at one point, the tears dried on their tired faces, from working, and crying, and from everything that had happened in their short lives. They fell asleep between roofless brick walls, not far from the skeleton of the staircase that connected the future kitchen to the first floor now, since the sun had slipped over the horizon. They fell asleep, just early enough to not hear the church’s bell ring midnight. They fell asleep on the rebuilt floor, where exactly twenty years earlier, a tiny boy with a little thatch of messy black hair and then still bluish green eyes had taken his first breath ever.
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