Turning heads. An everyday sight. Some for decades, others had done it for centuries. Many people of interest had climbed the Grand Tower of Hogwarts. Many that had caused the heads to turn, for the one or other reason. So had either of the men, uncountable times. The hushed whispers were nothing new to them as they ascended, wordless themselves however. Further up, through corridors and shortcuts, and a final spiral staircase. One last corridor, a short one which lead to a lone door. At it, they stopped. The younger one ahead, turned on the spot to face the other.
“So?”, he eyed him, eyed by the other himself.
“Yes?”
“You wanted a word.”, such didn’t seem to fully want to leave the other’s mouth.
“I – sorry – I –
“Well?”
“Harry – I – ”
“I have time,”, Harry said indifferently. “I don’t care if we talk now or later. I’ll be here all day.”, there was a longer pause between them during which Severus tried to spot anything interesting to look at on the old wooden door, possibly to find an excuse – something that would distract both long enough, as the walk hadn’t managed to grant him the time for sorting his words. “She’s found you, hasn’t she.”, Harry didn’t need his father’s sigh to know he was right. “And now?”
“Tha’s tha’ problem. I dunno wha’ now.”, while his head was still directed past Harry, at least their eyes met now.
“Has she given you some sort of ultimatum?”
“’Course she ’as. Bu’ tha’s no’ it.”
“Well, I’m quite relieved that this is not why you’re here, to be honest.”, grunted Harry.
“An’ it was unnecessary. I’d ’ave come ’ere anyway.”
“Did you tell her that?”
“She was gone before I could decide whether I should.”
“Will you give her the satisfaction that she convinced you or d’you want me to burst the bubble?”
“I – ”
“Want to burst the bubble yourself?”, almost childishly, Harry urged him.
“Harry – ”
“Don’t think I don’t know what bothers you. I can’t take that decision for you. Especially since you already decided.”
“Wha’ d’ye mean?”, Severus straightened with curiosity.
“I mean,”, Harry briefly but fiercely drilled his right index finger into Severus’ chest, “That you already made a decision. It is your life, Dad. I covered up for you and I will continue, if you let me. I’ll be there. I’ll hold the fort until you are certain that you know what you really want. Not that I distrust your sanity or anything. I believe, you already know what you want, but you’re too stubborn to accept that there are alternate solutions. Sure, some things take time, but I hope I don’t have to be the one to tell you that time sooner or later runs out. Whether you walk the slow, frustrating path or pick the hammer in the face, is on you.”
“I know. Wha’ I dunno is wha’ she thinks she’s lookin’ fer.”
“Isn’t that obvious? She’s looking for the man she fell in love with.”
“Bu’ tha’ man is dead.”
“Not that I know,”, Harry murmured.
“Alrigh’; mos’ o’ ’im.”
“You fear she’d turn you? That you become that same man again? Well, maybe you won’t, if you give her the chance to prove that she can appreciate you the way you are? Maybe then she won’t seek the idea of you she had, but actually learn to love the man that is there?”
“I ’ope ye’re righ’.”
“So do I. But no matter what, just try not to live up to her expectations. That way she will succeed at turning you, without either of you wanting it.”
“Now ye soun’ like me mother.”, Severus narrowed his brows with annoyance, but Harry managed to turn it into a woeful smile with his next words when voices and the sounds of shoes came echoing from the big staircase.
“Perhaps I inherited more than her glasses?”
“Ye sure ’ave.”
“So? You’re done?”, Harry nodded down and up Severus’ red velvet clothes as the first students already reached the short corridor. “Looks much like it, now does it?”
“I jus’ dun’ like dumpin’ clothes ’cause ’ey’ve becum’ ou’fashioned overnigh’.”
“Very sustainable and considerate. Others would say, you did in fact like that part of your life too much to let go already.”
“Now ye soun’ like ’Ermione.”
“Maybe she’s right, after all?”
“I’m less worried ’bou’ meself no’ bein’ able ter leave tha’ particular chapter in me life be’in’, if ye know wha’ I mean.”
They made way for the arriving students. Smiling to the best of his abilities without appearing too forced, Harry opened the door for them. In silence once again, they waited for the young ones to enter the classroom. Most of them had ceased their conversations, curiously eyeing Severus before they went for their seats. The latter escaped a frown when he realised that the benches were getting full without anyone walking in bigger distance from the main procession.
“No idea why they strangely happen to like my tutoring,”, Harry winked sheepishly. “Must be because I’m famous. Or because I can decide between the present and the horrors of my past.”, his smile dropped like what was left of Severus’. “He needs help. Draco needs serious help.”
“I know. ’T’s gettin’ ou’ o’ ’ands though. I dun’ think I’m tha’ righ’ person anymore. Or ever was. Anyway – ye gotta go.”, and Harry did take a step into the classroom, but stopped, eyes on his father still. “Yes?”
“Are there any things you absolutely must do before lunch?”
“I – ”
“Now come on.”
“I dun’ think I should – ”
“You opposed hundreds of monsters. You’ve dealt with students for many years. You’ve survived two wars and twenty years with Igor. They’ll have questions, no matter what and I think you could answer them better than I can. Why coming here if not to cut the rumours before they grow?”
Harry’s smile was back, as gentle as his father’s, but much more determined when the door closed behind them.
~~#~~
It had ever been like that and it would ever be, as long as there was enough left to keep the tower stand straight. The breeze would be there. Sometimes balmy, sometimes cold. In times strong, then only a sigh. But as long as there was enough left, the breeze would travel around the tower, blowing through the hair of everyone who decided to spend some moments on it, whether it be for lessons, getting their mind off – or what other reason it may be.
Slim fingers were clinging to the cold metal bar, as their owner gazed over the hills and the wide surface of the lake, reflecting the masses of grey clouds that had conquered the sky which had been so bright in the morning. His stomach was already pleading for being filled, but he couldn’t bother less. They had skipped lunch and were about to skip dinner as well, for something more important. And for not being stared at by dozens of confused pairs of eyes. Though he felt like being watched, not only by those two marbles he knew to be studying his back. While he listened to the whisper of the breeze, the feeling grew stronger, made him uncomfortable. He wanted to end the silence. Get away. To some other place, where no one would come to ask questions. So he decided to ask one more question himself.
“Why?”, he aspirated.
“Hmm?”
“Why now?”
“Ye really wan’ ter know?”
“It’d be nice to know, yes.”
“Maybe ye should ask ’er instead?”
“So she didn’t tell you how she finally found you? It was Draco, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“But why?”
“Ye should ask Draco – ”
“I know that you know.”, puffed Harry.
“If ye say so,”
“I’m not stupid.”
“Nor do I think ye are.”
“Fine, then not.”, he sighed at a Thestral in the distance that flew to another part of the forest. “And didn’t you want to give me something?”
“Are ye tha’ eager?”
“Not eager. I merely want closure, and so do you, as you claim.”
“Very well, bu’ it migh’ take sum’ time.”
“I have time. Like I said. I have all the time in the world.”
“Probably ye should si’ down.”
“Okay,”, Harry meant, let go of the parapet, turned and joined him on the pedestal. “So?”
“’Ere.”
“What’s that?”, as soon as he sat down, he received a sort of diary from him, not thick at all, but bound in red leather and sealed with a lock.
“Read it, if ye like.”
The lock clicked as Harry’s fingers approached it and he opened the small book. First, he met with a blank page, but as he skipped it, he found a very familiar, elegant handwriting. A short glance up to his left and catching the faint encouraging nod, he began to read the text that was written in Albus Dumbledore’s handwriting, but he knew the man had never seen these particular pages.
There were once three sisters who were travelling along a lonely, winding road in shadows.
Harry needed some seconds to breathe in thoroughly and swallow, before he could continue. He had no idea why, but somehow he had expected something like this to come. Ready, he read on.
Outpaced several times, a hooded figure they had left behind, bound to an old gnarled creature, a guard in the dark, as ominous as the Hooded, ever present on the other side of the river they had crossed and crossed again back from the Hooded’s realm, where they had chained the Master to the creature of Elder growing by the benches.
Marching over the bridge they had formed across the river, as they covered themselves in crimson, while blank faces stared up at them from the waves, long lost, slipped from their grasp, no coins left for the Ferryman. Gold, and Silver. It would ever rule the world they had come from, the world those beloved ones had fallen from into the river, awaiting justice for those who had pushed them in, redeeming their loss, if in mind only.
And so the sisters put on a mask each, concealing their faces from the nosy, to make the greedy see only, when those would be standing on the benches of that river, falling in, in exchange for the souls they had slain. And the grass beneath the sisters’ feet painted itself red with the liquid of life that spurt out from the veins infested with hate and greed as the condemned crawled towards the river, fleeing in cowardice and slipping in when failing at developing remorse.
A trail of blood behind, the sisters left the site, for a task beyond imagination, a task they had thrust upon themselves as others wandered into lighter lands, while they were not permitted yet to follow them. Death had made it irresponsible for each to accept his treachery, his unfairness, and so they had met on the bridge, by fate, and chained up the Master, requesting back what he had once fooled the ancestors of one sister with, just for a while, a single breath in the span of eternity, to even out one of his mistakes.
What he had once played on the brothers in blood, would now fall back on him by the hands of sisters in heart and he would have to learn, learn the very same lesson he had meant to teach them before.
Concealed, invisible to the living, with a wand, quicker than probably any, a number of blades, perhaps sharper than the rest of their kind, and an eye as blue as a cloudless autumn sky, overlooking the world alike, they mounted a horse like creature each, one of which were only visible to those who had already stood by the river; and so they rode into the lands alongside, steady and focused, not an inch off their path, for a long while.
But as destiny never meant any path to be even, their mounts tended to stagger from time to time, stumble off the path, and the sisters understood, that they were to be cautious; that they needed to take care of their mounts. So as with every plan that should work out, they needed backup. Which, like a miracle, and not, they found in an equal, in the bloodline, in one who had already chained up Death before as well.
For the first time, they decided to step out of the shadows, tell of their existence, and gladly continued their work, not alone anymore.
Many years passed. Much greed was destroyed and a grand number fell victim to the claws of the river, which, much to Death’s surprise, had undertaken his former task, fulfilling it with the hands of those who had been pushed in too early. A sea of blood swamped the grass. Sheer endless, it flowed across the lands, with every slash of the blades, guarded by the blue, and the greedy bound with the stick.
Many years, until the blood halted suddenly, startled by a drop that fell. It was Death, who had to his own surprise, cried a single tear into the flood. Yet it was so strong, so full of remorse that it washed away all the blood with the last breath of exuberance and a final soul fell into that part of the river, calming the waves. The claws became still and the chains slackened.
Overwhelmed by the glow Death found where a living creature would have a heart, he fell onto his knees and wept bitterly. It was then that the sisters stepped across their bridge together once more, took off their masks and held them towards him, as a relic to keep, as a reminder, and Death took them gladly in hands, looked up to the three with what he had never shown before: It was a smile, hesitant, weary, but real, and they turned for the land on the other side, together, where still beloved ones stood to greet them, to take them into their arms, until one day, each of the sisters would go back to the benches of the river, slip off their clothes and step in, for taking a final bath.
Like in Death’s eyes, tears stood in the green as they looked at the sign that marked the end of the story and he flipped that page, for a chuckle to leave him. No folder. This time, written into the book, along with what he knew to be the last of such photos and documents he would ever receive. Three signatures below. Yet another number of chuckles followed, when he read –
P.S.: I may consider myself as an artist, but literature was never my expertise. Прости меня. – Bel
P.P.S: Forgive me as well, he insisted I’d write this down for him and `in some way hint his remarkable Transfiguration skills´. I received enough glares for the interpretation. – J
P.P.P.S.: Ignore them, boy. Spares a whole lot of frustration. – Feng (without the Shui crap)
A voice echoed in his head, a voice that had echoed once from the very tower he sat on now with the person this voice belonged to. It’s over, it had said. And it was. It would never be over for mankind, that much either knew, but one chapter of history was closed, as closed as the book now on Harry’s lap. His arms had already moved around his father’s neck and both dwelled in the comfort. Until –
“I know that’s just way off topic, Dad, but I’m hungry.”
“I confess, I’m as well. Can ye do me a favour?”, they separated.
“Any.”
“I’ve go’ ter do one more thin’ firs’. Can ye go ’ome an’ take Ginevra an’ yer daughter an’ brin’ ’em ter Tha Burrow?”
“You wanna shock Ron, or what?”, Harry grinned.
“Am I really tha’ predictable?”
“At least ever since the Thestrals skidded off the path.”
“Very well.”
“Try not to make it take you too long.”, smiled Harry and they raised together. “See you in a while.”
White fog sped over the parapet, over roofs and towards the Black Lake. Once out of the barrier, Harry was gone. Invisible however, more of such fog imitated it, but took a different direction, in through windowless arches and past students who returned to their Houses already after having had dinner, chatting about things he wasn’t interested in hearing.
Flying had ever been the definition of freedom, not only for mankind, but for him personally and he enjoyed the rush as much as he enjoyed jumping off a cliff and diving into cold, deep, alleviating water. The students he passed were nothing but fish, travelling in the same ocean, the ocean of life. He followed his emotions, towards the small source of frustration that wasn’t his own, and yet it was, considering thoroughly. Already, he could almost hear the questions the boy was bombarded with and all he wanted was to end it. So desperately that he nearly crashed into the office door when landing too late.
“Be glad no one saw tha’.”, he murmured to himself, straightened his red velvet robe and pushed the door open, very lively, startling them all.
“Merlin’s beard, Severus!”, blustered the usual. “You can’t just crash people’s doors and scare them to death!”, he only threw him a bored glance while Albus snorted a grin into a bowl of chocolate cream.
“You’d be surprised, Professor. He’s done that all over the last nineteen years, at least.”, Slughorn seemed to not have heard that.
“Ah, never mind. Why don’t you come and sit down with us. I never said that only my current students are allowed at this table.”
“Forgive me, but my son is hungry.”
“Your son?”, Slughorn blinked and frowned.
“Next time the world is trying to tell you the best stories, you’d better be careful not to faint. Albus, fer a word?”
“You excuse me,”, he smirked at Scorpius, slid off his chair and went over to his grandfather who supported himself on his thighs so their faces could be at the same level. “Yes?”, he whispered.
“Don’t let yourself be bound just because the bait tastes delicious.”, Severus replied equally low, but in Scottish Gaelic.
“I don’t take the bait. Oh well, I do, but I swallow it, spit out the hook and show him the finger.”
“What a wonderful plan.”, smirked Severus. “But listen to me. Don’t – ”
“Scorpius has told me enough about him. Trust me, I know what I do. I won’t let the spider get me. I can defend myself.”
“Certainly. But if you’d rather be somewhere else, doing what you actually want,”
“Then I know where the door is. You see, everyone who wishes to achieve something in life, strives for landing on his shelf. What he never figured, a real Peverell can’t be tricked that easily. A real Master of Death won’t let themselves be lured into the web. He never figured he can’t own us, but that we own him.”, Severus nodded approvingly.
“So I need not worry about you?”
“Not at all, Grandpa.”, Severus straightened and pulled the boy close, sighing deeply as he as well laid his arms around his back. “Besides, I’m only here to convince Scorpius of how bad the club would be for him. He insists on trying to get confirmation for what his father told him, but he doesn’t see that the more he tries to unveil, the further he will fall in and suddenly won’t find his way back out. I need to be here, ready to take his hand when he understands.”
“Very well.”, sighed Severus and they let go of one another; he lightly brushed a bundle of thick black hair from Albus’ nose. “Bu’ please be careful, me lil’ emerald.”
“I will.”
“And what was that supposed to achieve?”, Slughorn muttered when Severus simply spun around and left the office. “Hello?”
“I’d like to know that too.”, meant Scorpius and Albus turned back slowly, to look at them alternately.
“I’ll be going now.”
“Going?”, Slughorn raised an eyebrow. “To where?”
“Thanks for the dinner, Sir.”
“But you only ate the afters!”
“Well, if you actually cared for the people you desire to herd, you’d know why. And I think, I need to have another word with the Elves. Seems I didn’t make my point clear enough. Have a good night, everyone. Scorpius?”
“I – alright,”, he too hopped off his chair and they left the confusedly quivering walrus moustache behind the closed door.
~~#~~
Not as blue as a clear sky, and by far not as blue as the eye in the story, a pair of such travelled over the table. Only the eyes. People tended to squeeze themselves into suitcases of clichés, but somehow Ronald Weasley had found the zipper of one of his. Still he struggled with opening it.
While the others were almost done with supper, his plate laid before him, untouched. Again, his blue eyes found a grand target to stare at. Opposite to him, Harry had lifted a spoon with chocolate cream and shovelled it into a grin, for then locking it with a little kiss. Like several times within an hour, it made Ron huff – and receive a questioning sideglance from his wife and parents. Ginevra only watched them, having finished, and stroking Crookshanks on her lap, whose fur had thinned a lot over the past few months. Lily and Hugo had gone outside to play with the Gnomes.
“What’s wrong with you?”, Hermione whispered. “You haven’t touched a thing – ”
“Because everyone refuses to tell me who prepared what.”
“I made the chicken.”, Ginevra; sitting on one head of the rectangular table; threw over, though not stopping to watch the two men to her right with an equal smile.
“Why does it matter? They won’t tell me the secret ingredient of the cream anyway!”, frowned Hermione, when he at last took himself a cold wing. “Ron?”
“If he wants to be an idiot, let him. And again, you’ve been using the wrong milk.”, Ginevra sighed when Harry received a thick kiss in return. “Incredible. And I thought – ”
“It’s not the milk! I tried! Never mind.”, Hermione huffed and addressed the clowning men a little louder. “Anyway, I don’t get it.”
“You don’t get what?”, Harry asked with his grin stuck and she slightly turned to Severus.
“I mean look at you!”
“Yeah. Exactly.”, Ron snorted quietly.
“You could have had that ages ago!”, she moaned. “How dumb can anyone possibly be, denying what they long for the most, only for going on a barbaric trip of slaughter!”, their smiles were gone mutually, becoming something between sadness and disappointment, yet it was absolutely clear that they shared some genes.
“You really don’t get it.”, Harry aspirated. “I don’t even know why you take on the effort to listen to what I’ve been trying to make you understand. I don’t know why I wasted all that time. Or why Luna has. Maybe I hoped for better. But I guess, I hoped in vain.”
“What? You don’t understand!”
“You think so?”, Harry frowned with a chuckle. “Then what, in your opinion, do we have what we didn’t have yet.”
“That!”
“That what.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes, I know what you mean. But do you?”
“Sorry?”
“I’ll do the washing, if nobody minds.”, he stood up angry, waved the used plates and cutlery to the sink and also levitated the rest of the food over to the fridge, for cooling it in later.
“Hey!”, Ron protested when he meant to reach out for a chicken leg.
“You’ve had plenty enough time for that. Cope with it.”
“That’s unfair!”
“Well, surprise. Life is unfair sometimes.”
“Harry?”, Severus said softly and turned around as his son went to wash up manually.
“I’m fine.”, he grunted, splashing water and spreading foam everywhere.
“Harry, dear. Please try not to mess around to much.”, said Molly.
“Why not. Then the floor would be clean for once.”
“Harry,”, now Arthur warned.
“What.”
“You might be angry for some reason, but these are still our dishes.”
“Exactly.”, said Molly. “You may treat your own however you like. But – ”
“Harry, Molly’s righ’. ’T’s no’ ’er dishes’ faul’ tha’ Hermione will never understan’.”
“Never?”, Hermione shrieked. “I beg your pardon?”
“Never.”, Severus repeated and got up to help Harry drying, manually as well.
“Why, yes! Of course I will never understand!”, she was on her feet too now, her face becoming slightly red with the heat rising. “Because either of you consistently refuses to explain it to me!”
“Oh we did,”, Harry snorted. “And I thought I just said that. But you’re not able to even just listen and consider thinking about it thoroughly.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That your apprehension must always be the right one. That of course you are the only one to know what’s right for the people around you. And that of course, what you see, is exactly how things are in reality.”
“I think, you’re just mistaking me for yourself,”, Hermione said boredly and crossed her arms.
“So many times I thought you’d finally gotten it. But no, all I could satisfy myself with was disappointment.”
“Disappointment? Oh yes – of course! Do you want to know what’s disappointing? Trying to tell someone to approach the only family he’s got left, but all he does is repeating that he has a job to do! And twenty years later, nothing has changed! He says he nearly dies, but refuses to – well, of course I don’t understand! There’s nothing about that anyone could possibly understand! There were moments in which I thought I could accept that, but you know, it hurts! It hurts me to watch that! No one has to abandon everyone they love dearly! That’s a ridiculous rule!”
“Bu’ there we’ve go’ tha poin’ ye absolutely din’ understan’. Ye dunno wha’ it’s like. Still, ye never los’ anyone.”
“I DID LOSE A SISTER!”
“A sis’er ye never knew. Ye’ve been five years ol’. Dun’ tell me ye were conscious enough ter understan’ wha’ ’appened, ’cause I know ye weren’. All ye connec’ ter tha’ sentence ye jus’ yelled, is logic. Tha logic tha’ sum’thin’ tragic ’appened an’ tha’ o’ course ye mus’ be pitied fer it. Fer once, try ter listen inside ye an’ be ’ones’ ter yerself ’bou’ tha’ sor’ o’ loss ye’re defendin’ yerself wit’, still, decades later.”
“I never said I must be pitied. And that from someone who cries nearly every time he has to talk about a woman he allegedly lost, may I note, thirty-six years ago. Because you’re the one who’s actually shielding yourself with false pretences. Dumbledore was right. I don’t get why I tried to make you believe it was Voldemort who’s killed her. I mean, yes, he did. But it was you who left her in the middle of the night after having told her to not grieve after you but be happy with another man. And then you come crying and pitying yourself because she actually did so! Worse, you made that mistake twice in your life! And then you expect me to understand you! And I’m stupid enough to actually give in to my feelings! Just as stupid as she had been! Stupid enough to give you something you then neglect for years!”
CRASH
Hermione hadn’t been the only one to squeal, but she had ducked, even though the plate would have never hit her before meeting with the wall by the stairs. And she ducked again, when it came back, intact, caught by Harry, who had thrown it.
“Do you mind!”, Molly muttered.
“Shut up!”
“Harry!”, Arthur gasped.
“I SAID SHUT UP!”, the cupboards trembled and the lamp swayed and flickered; Ron’s mouth and eyes only gaped, seeming to fear the lamp might come down and hit him. “EACH SINGLE ONE OF YOU!”
“I’ll be going.”, Ginevra mumbled, stood up and took Crookshanks for the door outside. “This way I can’t send her against the wall. Try to not do what I avoid.”, the door to the garden opened and closed on her will only.
“No, Hermione, you don’t know how it feels.”, Harry continued snarling. “You don’t have the slightest idea what it was like to realise you’ve just survived dying. You never died. And perhaps you’ve felt something up there in the Shrieking Shack, I don’t know.”, she opened her mouth, but didn’t get to speak. “You want to know what it was like for me? It took me a couple of hours to even realise what had happened there. And when I knew, when I stood up on the Astronomy Tower with Ron and looked down on the shack, I felt like the biggest dickhead on earth, having agreed with that one flicker of a feeling of mine that told me I couldn’t go down there with you.”
“Well,”
“You want to know what it was like? What it was like to feel the need to jump across that banister to be faster at reaching the shack? To get there before you could, so I could get him out there and bury him myself? And then – ”, he panted hard, beginning to cry. “And then having to watch it being set on fire – ”
“Oh, I apologise, Harry.”, Hermione snorted grim. “Ask him. He wanted me to do that.”
“I DON’T GIVE A DAMN WHAT HE WANTED! YOU DID IT! YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE TO SEE – YOUR WHOLE LIFE – BEING BURNT DOWN TO ASHES? THAT’S WHAT IT’S LIKE WHEN YOU LOSE SOMEONE! AND YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT I FELT WHEN I STOOD BY LUCIUS’ COFFIN? I FELT A HAND ON MY SHOULDER! THE VERY SAME I’D FELT WHEN LOOKING INTO THE MIRROR OF ERISED!”
“What?”, she stared from father to son, but Severus had turned away again, so she wouldn’t see his tears.
“AND I KNEW I WASN’T ALONE! I KNEW I COULD MAKE IT! THAT I DIN’ NEED END UP LIKE LUCIUS! I KNEW HE WAS STILL THERE! YES, HERMIONE, I KNEW IT ALL THE TIME! AND YOU FRUSTRATE YOURSELF WITH KEEPING TRYING TO TELL HIM TO SAY SOMETHING THAT HAD NEVER BEEN NECESSARY! JUS’ ’CAUSE YOU CAN’T FEEL ANYTHING, IT DOESN’ MEAN EV’RYONE’S GO’ TO BE THA SAME AS YOU!”, Hermione’s eyebrows weren’t the only to wander up, and not solely due to the content of his yelling. “JUS’ ’CAUSE I DIN’ WAN’ TO BELIEVE WHA’ I FEL’, DOESN’ MEAN I DIN’ FEEL IT!”
“You knew it all the time?”, she whimpered.
Her arms slackening, she was trying hard to ignore Harry’s change of pronunciation he might or might not be aware of. Though in the corner of her eye she also noticed Ron had become ponderingly, just as if he was counting things together that she herself should have ages ago. The only one who seemed to have noticed that apart from her, was Arthur. His expression was the same as his youngest son’s, onto whom his eyes flicked every other second.
“JUS’ CAUSE I’VE FORGOTTEN WHA’ IT MEAN’ THA’ I’VE FEL’, IT DOESN’ AUTOMATICALLY MEAN THA’ I COULD NEVER FEEL IT AGAIN! OR REMEMBER AGAIN WHA’ IT MEANT!”
“Please, Harry, could you lower your volume a bit,”, pleaded Molly, but was ignored.
“I DUN’ NEED ANYONE TO TELL ME WHY I FEEL THA WAY I FEEL LIKE! I KNOW! AN’ ’E KNEW THA’ I KNEW WHA’ CONNEC’S US! BUT ’COURSE THA’ NEVER GOT INTO YOUR HEAD!”
“I had no idea it works this way round as well – ”
“THIS WAY ROUN’? WELL, YES! IT WORKS THIS WAY ROUN’ AS WELL! SO STO’ BEMOTHERIN’ US! EVERYONE’S GO’ TO FIGURE OU’ WHA’S BEST FOR ’EMSELVES AT SUM’ POIN’ IN ’EIR LIFE! AN’ EVERY PAREN’S GO’ TO KNOW WHA’S BES’ FOR THEIR CHILD! AN’ BELIEVE IT OR NO’, I HAVE A GOOD FATHER! HE HAD TO DISTANCE ’IMSELF TO NO’ LOSE ME AS WELL! HE HAD BEEN WISE ENOUGH TO DO IT BEFORE IT’D BEEN TOO LATE! WHAT OTHER FATHER WOULD SACRIFICE EV’RYTHIN’ AN’ EV’RYONE ELSE FOR THEIR CHILD? I TELL YOU SUM’THIN’, I’D DO THA SAME! YOU MOURN FOR WHA’ WE DIN’ ’AVE? WE DID HAVE IT! YOU JUS’ REFUSED TO SEE! AN’ THA’S WHY I DUN’ LOWER ME VOICE! ’CAUSE DEAR HERMIONE GRANGER; PARDON, WEASLEY; WUN’ UNDERSTAN’ A THING UNLESS ’ER EARS FALL OFF!”
“Harry – ”, Hermione gargled when Ron leaned back with a slack chuckle, but Harry wasn’t done yet.
“AN’ I KNOW I’D BEEN YOUNG AN’ NAÏVE AN’ WAILIN’ ’BOU’ HOW MUCH I HATED HIM ’CAUSE HE MORE AN’ MORE MADE ME FEEL THINGS I DIN’ UNDERSTAN’! YES, HE MIGH’ TEND TO REPEAT MISTAKES, BU’ HE’S JUS’ A MAN! HE’S JUS’ HUMAN LIKE EACH OF US AN’ HE’S MY FATHER – ”
“What?”, Molly hissed, apparently more shocked by how long it had taken her to figure it out than by Harry having called the truth by its name.
“AN’ I LOVE HIM THE WAY HE IS! END OF STORY!”
Severus’ head had sunken already and silence fell over the kitchen, only broken by Harry’s fierce panting. The lamp slowly stopped swaying. Molly had clapped her hands on her mouth and Arthur was; like his youngest son; worse than when he had found Severus entering the kitchen and his daughter, granddaughter and son in law not fainting at all. And Hermione, could only stare. Yet the stares of most others were on something shiny silvery white that suddenly crawled along the edge of the dressers like a monkey, towards the sink, its big doleful eyes fascinating everyone as much as the sleek long fur.
“So this is it?”, gargled a man with Russian accent, becoming visible too when it crouched down on the narrowest space there was, neither falling into the basin, nor off to the floor.
He had sat very straight on the dresser by one of the windows ever since Harry had decided to wash up. It was the very place Luna usually sat at when meaning to interrupt conversations and startle everyone by doing so. He startled them as well and made all heads rush in his direction, however, he did something Luna never had done when sitting there: he cried. One of the thick tears fell down from his crystal blue eyes and past his slackly twirled grey goatee.
“This is your charming family? Your lovely family? The honest face?”
“Dun’ tell me we’ve never been arguin’.”, Severus sighed.
“We did – but – is this it? Your final sacrifice?”
“Gorij?”, the statement, as obviously the long, grey, greasy looking waves touching he dresser, made him visibly uncomfortable.
“So he is right? We are done? It is over? End of story? You return to your son?”
“Gorij – ”
“Ah well, but why do I ask – ”, he chuckled, slid off the dresser and stared out through the window, into the dark. “I knew it. I knew this is what it would go like. I should have guessed that not fate had brought us to Skye. Happily ever after. And they turned for the land on the other side, where still beloved ones stood to greet them, to take them into their arms, until one day, each of the sisters would go back to the benches of the river, slip off their clothes and step in, for taking a final bath. But you forgot one thing, Severus. I have no beloved ones on the other side. Oh, and, together. They turned together. I didn’t write that as a sort of joke.”
“Exac’ly.”, Severus said softly, making Igor’s head turn back at him. “Tergether. Ye tend ter see yer world buried beneath tha darkes’ veil before anyone can even consider plannin’ ter stretch it. Dun’ judge before ye consider. Ye’re me family too, ye know tha’. An’ I pray tha’ ’ere will never come a time again, where I fin’ meself forced ter decide fer me family, wit’ou’ me son, or fer me son, wit’ou’ tha res’ o’ me family.”
Igor’s lips curled when he spotted Severus’ held out hand. Though slow, he managed to set his feet in motion, his high heels clacking with every step. Staggering, he crossed the kitchen to where he stood, and lastly kicked the shoes of, shrinking two full inches. As slack as Hermione’s arms hung, he fell into Severus’, crying bitterly into the shoulder of the younger man, his arms dangling even worse.
“I am sorry – ”, he moaned. “I don’t know what got me there. Maybe it is because I realised that I will never get to kill Death Eaters ever again – I am useless! And unemployed! And the only meaning in my life seemed to chuck me in! Again!”
“Oh, my, god.”, Hermione aspirated frowning and began to blink heavily, not only because of his behaviour but because of an already too familiar ring she spotted on his left hand.
“Sh.”, Severus whispered and Harry scratched his neck with a smirk. “Ye’re no’ useless. An’ no’ unemployed. An’ I wun’ leave ye.”
“I am unemployed! Steve is retiring! He is closing his butchery!”
“What?”, Severus pressed him away a little.
“Yeeees!”, Igor moaned. “He told me before we clocked off today!”
“All righ’?”
“Nooooo! Nothing is right!”, he cried, sounding like a howling dog and Severus raised an eyebrow, becoming serious.
“Did ye ask ’im whether ye could carry on ’is business? After all ye’ve been workin’ fer ’im fer quite a while – ”
“Вот дерьмо! You think he would like me to?”, Igor muttered, still standing like a wobbly pillar.
“Well, ask ’im!”, snickered Severus.
“I am such a clodpole! I will ask him tomorrow, yes.”
“You really are.”, Ginevra had come back in and instantly spotted the creature by the sink, watching with surprise how Crookshanks rushed through between them, hopped onto the dresser and sat down by the door-side edge of the sink with unexpected agility compared to his recent movement speed, obviously starting some non-verbal conversation with the not much bigger being.
“I am.”, Igor resumed weeping into Severus’ shoulder. “I am.”
“Did you really think, Harry and I would be selfless enough to kick out Uncle Igor?”
“I don’t knoooow!”, he whined.
“Blimey,”, Ginevra moaned quitely, more to herself, “Yuèguāng’s still alive? Didn’t think he’d get that old,”
“We’ll have a family reunion party.”, Harry kept his smirk and placed his hand on an area on Igor’s back that wasn’t covered by his father’s arms, but still by messed grey waves. “With a load of vodka, for you alone.”
“I hate vodka!”, Igor whimpered even worse.
“A Russian who hates vodka.”, Arthur frowned. “Well, blow me down.”
“But I love maoutai. And liánhuā cha.”
“Then a load of – whatever that is.”, Harry snickered as well, in a way it drove Hermione mad, but found his head forced to turn towards the sitting room when another man spoke, with a very growling voice, and leaning childishly with both hands on a gnarled walking stick that stood in front of him.
“Will good old Uncle Alastor be invited too?”
“Bloody hell!”, Ron gasped as usual. “Mad-Eye!”
“Nice underwear, Ronald.”, he grinned with his magical eye on him only and Ron clapped his hands into his groin.
“I – I – I told you!”, he panted. “I told you, didn’t I?”, he retrieved one hand and brandished it heavily at Alastor. “I told you he’s alive! I told you!”
“Well of course you are invited, Mr Moody.”
“Argh!”, Alastor spun and shot a stunner in direction of the dreamy voice that had come from the dresser Igor had left, but only hit the window, which strangely absorbed the spell.
“An’ I told ye, ’e’s still paranoid.”, Severus sighed when she became visible.
“I am not paranoid!”, Alastor roared.
“He is not paranoid, Severus.”, Luna smiled warmly. “He is merely vigilant. And you all are invited, by the way. Oh and Yuèguāng is here too! How wonderful! Bring him, if he likes to,”
“Since when do you decide who’s invited to our party?”, Ginevra chuckled jokingly.
“Since it is our party. Rolf’s and mine.”
“Now here we go,”, Ron mumbled.
“Yes, we go, Ronald.”
“Criminy! She’s heard that!”
“Well, since Lysander and Lorcan are old enough now for recognising a Jobberknoll when they see one,”
“I said it, didn’t I?”, he sighed quietly, but Luna continued a little louder and more histrionic.
“They exist.”, mumbled Igor.
“We decided we can celebrate our time together and seal it!”
“Hang on – you’re marrying?”, Ginevra giggled. “Congratulations!”
“Thank you!”, Luna beamed. “After all, Skeeter and half the country already think we are married, so why not granting her the satisfaction of barely having gotten it right once in her life? But it wasn’t really difficult talking Rolf into it. We saw a Kelpie the other day and said at once and absolutely unintentional that it would be wonderful to take a ride on one someday. So I asked him and he said yes. The wedding will start next Monday, two minutes to half past ten in the morning, local time, at Ō-jima beach. We’d be excited to see you all there. Take as many people with you as you wish, but don’t come by plane.”, not waiting for any answer, she somehow was gone as though she had never been there.
“Ō-jima.”, Igor huffed into Severus’ shoulder. “She is mad, isn’t she? We will be trampled by tourists! Even in the morning!”
“Honestly, tourists are the least thing that’d worry me when having to go to Japan.”, Harry considered. “The whole place’s a contaminated time bomb – ”
“An’ still people call it ’eir ’ome,”, his father noted, “Unwillin’ ter leave it, bu’ rather rebuild wha’ was damaged an’ figh’ wha’ attemp’s ’eir lives.”, Harry found himself unable to disagree, and nodded slackly as he watched Igor’s hair shorten and slip through the caressing arms to sit on the Russian’s shoulders with weirdly curled ends and in its natural colour. “An’ tha’s far better, Gorij.”
“Заткнись.”
“Whow!”, Ron gasped. “He’s a Metamorphmagus?”
“And an Animagus.”, added Harry.
“Really? You can be both?”
“Metamorphmagi are born, Ron.”, Hermione huffed.
“I know! It’s just, Tonks said,”
“Well, perhaps she never tried or never found it necessary?”
“Interesting.”
“Indeed.”, Hermione’s arms were crossed again. “So it seems, my hair wasn’t red enough, was it?”, once more, all eyes were on her and Severus let go of Igor, staring at her in disbelief, while the other tapped his eyes dry.
“Pardon?”
“Oh, I think, I do understand now.”
“And what do you think you do understand?”, Severus eyed her with blunt disgust, his sudden lack of dialect also trying to alarm Hermione, but she was too upset to be bothered by it.
“Knowing history, I can’t believe I missed the favour.”
“Favour?”
“Well, there clearly seems to be an inherited favour, not?”, her eyes travelled from Harry to Ginevra and over Igor who lifted his small Demiguise onto his arms, back to Severus. “His might have been a little more brownish,”, the way Hermione curled her lips and stiffly sought every breath through her nose, resembled a lot Petunia Dursley’s grimace when being upset about having to come to terms with a to her unpleasant fact, “But like your mother, aren’t you? And Harry’s just like you. So well, I am sorry that my hair is far too brown.”
“Hermione,”, Severus more than visibly got the hint, becoming as angry as her.
“And I thought you were above physical features. And even telling me that you liked my hair – is – is there anything you ever told me about what you like on me – was there ever any truth to it?”, she muttered downright hysteric.
“Indeed interesting that you see it that way, but you seem to be unable accepting coincidence,”
“Coincidence.”, Hermione chuckled deflated.
“Or fate?”, Severus meant as sad and she took a deep breath before she carried on.
“I get it.”, she said to the floor. “It’s not that you ever told me. Not back then in the Hospital Wing like I thought, not as I believed written on that dusty floor, and never in betw– ”
“With my own blood, if you do remember as well.”, Severus noted grim.
“Yes. Because you didn’t have anything else to write with!”, she snapped. “And I asked Viktor! Those words meant `I’m going home´! And those you so carefully whispered to me – ”
“Hermione, I – ”
“And I’ve been naïve enough not to notice. Remus was right. I was blinded. I was too young to understand that I’ve been used all the time. You just used me to spin on your story. Or to satisfy whatever need of yours – just a man, quite, yes. As if you ever felt – ”, her eyes shortly flicked at Ginny, who rolled hers, obviously remembering one of their conversations at the dormitory window as well.
“That is not – ”, Severus protested, his right index finger raised.
“What is it not.”
“I sacrificed tha chance fer a life fer ye!”
“What?”, Hermione frowned unimpressed.
“Yes, you are right. I lied.”, hissed Severus. “But to myself rather than anyone else.”
“Oh, yes. That’s right. And you kept lying to yourself. And you used me again. Just days ago.”
“Do I have to remind you that you came to me? That it was you who kept searching for me?”
“Wasn’t all too hard for you to know where I was all the time, was it? And you let me in. You were right. I shouldn’t have come. Or maybe I should. Maybe it was meant to be. So I realise at last that I was nothing but a chess piece. Pushed over the board to your liking.”
“Yes, I let you in because it maybe was meant to be. Or because I needed something confirmed, I don’t know.”
“And did you get it confirmed?”, Hermione grunted, but received no answer. “Fine. Then not.”
“I dun’ ge’ wha’ ye wan’ from me – ”
“Oh can’t it be that I’ve just been stupid enough to love you?”, she ignored Ron’s coughing. “Stupid enough to believe anything you said was true? To believe you actually cared for me? Because if you cared – ”
“If you truly loved me, you would know that I cared for you. In fact I cared for you so much I; as I just said; divested myself of a chance to actually have a life. Yes, it would have been a secret life as well, but I might have gotten happy then already. She might still be alive – or not; yes, perhaps I would have fallen much deeper, if I hadn’t cared for you. I perhaps wouldn’t be happy now with the situation I live in, because it would be different. Everything. You’re not the only one, Hermione.”
“I – ”
“And by far not the top of the world. I cared for you enough to send her off with our unborn child so she would be so far away from you that you wouldn’t suspect anything – while I should have held her close and protected her to the best I could. He might have even understood. Her siblings were Death Eaters. Not all voluntarily, but that’s not the point here. She would still be alive if I had cared less about you. And you may have lost a sister you never knew and it might hurt you, but I have lost three brothers and two sisters and one of them was my real brother. I have lost my parents and most of my friends. Two of my children got murdered along with their mothers. But I tell you one thing – I am not whining about it in order to satisfy any sick need to get pitied.”
“Two children?”, Hermione breathed.
“I keep them in honour and I even buried what was left of that man who has killed most of them, or made them die in the wake of his actions.”
“Two.”
“Two.”, Severus sighed. “Yes, you might think that I have cheated on you, but actually, she was there first and I pushed her aside because I didn’t mean to hurt you when I saw how much it bothered you that we were close. Surprisingly she even still encouraged me when we were already married, because she had a much more open, much more relaxed, and in times a much more too childish view on life, which wouldn’t have been such a bad thing, now that I think about it. And the other would have been Harry’s sister.”
Harry lowered his head, blinking to the floor, when his father pulled his wand from his sleeve and gave it two waves, filling the kitchen with bluish silver light. It became a bright doe that came to stand between him and Harry, and a shining otter which hooked itself onto Severus’ shoulder. Hermione’s lips parted just a wee bit, but she seemed to finally understand, as memories began to connect to one another, memories of a woman she had actually been jealous of, and a hint, a mere hint that had been there, but so small she had pushed it aside without even thinking. There was some vindicated reason, but she was gone and had left a grand hole.
“An’ if ye do still feel tha slightes’ positive bi’ fer me,”, he said as tears ran down his pale cheeks and waved his wand a third time, which created another animal of light, “I’d really preferred if ye dun’ drive a wedge between us as well.”, the glowing husky sat down on the kitchen floor and leant its shining head to Severus’ legs. “Dun’ expec’ me ter erase me life fer ye. Especially if ye can’ comprehend wha’ kep’ me alive or doin’ tha thin’s I did. If ye love me – ”, he breathed in hard and trembling, “Please lemme go.”
~~#~~