Embers

They say March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb. For some reason, that familiar Muggle saying popped into Harry’s mind and stubbornly took up what seemed to be permanent residence. Life at Grimmauld Place continued as it had been doing so for some time. A flurry of excitement tempered with cautious optimism had filled the old house when the final horcrux, a Hufflepuff Cup, had been destroyed a fortnight earlier. The Order had received an anonymous tip as to its location. Harry had been skeptical but Arthur had insisted the information was reliable.

The euphoria began to die down as a grayish February gave way to a March that began in bitter cold and blinding white. Harry wondered how he would know when or where to face Voldemort for the final time. He was not as nervous as he had earlier feared he might be under the circumstances. The more he thought on what Ginny had explained, the more comfort he took from the knowledge that he had a power within him that could vanquish Voldemort once and for all. He still did not fully understand how it would work; he knew only that it would.

He’d been awake all night, just staring out the window. The land as far as he could see was blanketed in white. The trees were still, sheathed in ice as though frozen in time. A cold draft chilled his skin, but failed to reach the warmth that burned within him. Winter still held a powerful grip on the landscape, but in his heart he could sense the nearing spring. His soul was at peace, his heart pure and he saw the world with his mother’s eyes.

Lily. He held a wizard photograph of his parents. For a long time, he watched the images of his parents smile and wave at him. He took comfort and felt the bonds of love that not even death could sever. As the light grew stronger, he knew what he had to do. He stood, placed the wizard photograph on his bed, dressed in simple robes and headed to the site he’d often thought of recently, but had never visited…the site where his parents lay buried.

Harry had never visited his parents’ gravesite, but he was able to find it easily. A small and simple stone with their names set amid several birch trees. For a long time, he sat and meditated. In his mind, he saw visions of his father. “You were a chaser. You chased your whole life. What were you chasing?”

It seemed as if the wind answered him. The words entered his mind as if they’d been spoken aloud. “I was a chaser. I chased the impossible and came within sight of it through you. You are the seeker, Harry. Reach out and grasp the ever elusive glint of gold. You have the power because we made it so.” He could feel his father smiling down on him and felt a growing sense of peace, almost as if his father had enveloped him in a loving embrace. He smiled at the mental image of his father and immediately he could see his mother’s smile, too. Long red hair, green eyes so like his own…love. The warmth of his mother’s love coursed through him. He could feel it in his skin, his bones and in his blood. He knew it to be true and in that moment he found the inner peace that had always seemed tantalizingly just out of reach.

“How fitting it is to kill you here at the grave of your filthy Muggle mother!” The voice was cruel and taunting. Voldemort had come to him.

Harry stood and faced his adversary. “It is fitting to die surrounded by those you love.”

“Dare I believe my ears? You admit that you cannot defeat my power.” Voldemort walked closer. “You disappoint me, Potter! Will you not fight for what you believe in? Come now, Potter! Draw your wand!” Voldemort raised his own wand and pointed it at Potter.

Harry stared at Voldemort for some time. He saw beyond the horrible exterior, looked past the wand pointing at him and felt the love he had inside reaching a crescendo. The moment had come.

“Now Potter! I give you my word; I will not cast any curses until you’ve drawn your wand.” He bared his teeth to Harry.

Harry quietly reached into his pocket, grasped his wand and raised it holding his palm upward. He saw Voldemort begin to take aim and in that instant he understood how to vanquish Voldemort. He looked at his enemy and stated, “I will die for you.” Harry dropped his wand into the snow, lifted his head to the skies with his eyes closed, his arms hanging at his side. In the same moment, Voldemort screamed, “Avada Kedavra!” The green light sailed smoothly and quickly. In a flash it hit Harry, enveloping him in light; but then the light ricocheted back towards Voldemort, hitting him square in the chest. Both wizards fell to the ground surrounded by a dome of red and white sparks. Through the sparks, white and black smoke hovered over the respective bodies of Harry and Voldemort. The smoke coalesced to grey and as the sparks began to die away, a single stream poured into Harry through his forehead. The last spark faded to nothingness and no trace of the smoke remained. He lay where he’d fallen. Of Voldemort there was no trace.

When he opened his eyes, the light caused him to wince. “It’s so bright.” He commented softly.

“It’s nearly sundown, Harry.” Ginny laughed. She stroked his face

He closed his eyes again, and then hesitantly opened them. He saw a pretty face, long red hair and brown eyes looking down at him. He wondered about the brown eyes. “You’re not my mother, are you?”

Ginny laughed loudly this time. “Hardly! But I am so happy to see you. We were worried.”

“Is he here?” Harry sat up. “Is Voldemort still here?” He looked to where he’d last seen the dark wizard.

“You’re here alone, Harry. It’s a good thing we found you when we did. You could have frozen to death out here.”

Harry showed no sign he’d listened to anything she’d just said. He still looked for a trace of Voldemort. Had he been wrong about it? Was it merely another dream? “Where is my wand? Do you see my wand?”

Arthur and Ron appeared at Ginny’s side. Ron offered a hand to Harry to help him up. “Did you say You-Know-Who was here?”

“Harry turned to Ron. “He was here. At least, I thought he was. I was sure.” He rubbed his forehead, pushing the long black hair to the side as he did so.

Ron’s eyes went wider than Harry had ever seen.

Harry looked at him perplexed. “What? Is there something on my face?”

Ron shook his head. “No, there’s nothing there!” Ginny and Arthur moved in for a closer look.

Harry looked back and forth between the three wide-eyed Weasleys. “Then, why are all of you staring at me?”

Ginny was the first to find her voice. “Harry, your scar…it’s gone!” She reached to touch his forehead. “There’s no scar.”

The following days passed in a blur of frenzied activity. Confirmations had begun to pour in almost immediately that the Dark Mark had indeed faded from the arms of those Death Eaters in custody. Both the Order of the Phoenix and Aurors from the Ministry of Magic had grilled Harry endlessly about what exactly had happened at his parents’ gravesite. Harry had been reluctant to have anyone go over the Pensieve account and had at first refused to offer one. In the end, Arthur talked him into it. They’d watched the account together. Arthur was fascinated by what he’d seen of Voldemort’s end. Harry was horrified.

“He’s in me? A part of him is in me?” He rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air in a gesture of futility. “All these years, I’ve been told I had the power to vanquish him and it comes to this? I have to live with him inside me for the rest of my life?”

Arthur had rarely left Harry’s side since Voldemort’s defeat. “But you’ve done just what the prophecy said you would.” Harry sat down and tried to collect his thoughts. “Do you hear his thoughts, his mania, or his hate?”

Harry looked a bit troubled. “What if I did?”

“Will you act on that hate?”

“Of course not. That’s not what I want.”

Arthur smiled again, more broadly this time. “Nothing about you has changed. You’re still Harry.”

“Yeah, Harry plus Voldemort.”

“No,” Arthur explained patiently. “Just Harry.” Harry looked up at Arthur, who met his gaze with a warm smile. “And you still have your mother’s eyes.” Finally, Harry smiled and chuckled softly. Arthur patted his shoulder. “Come.” He motioned for Harry to join him.

“Where are we going?”

“St. Mungo’s.”

“I’m fine. I don’t need to see any healers.”

“One final check-up and you’ll be your own man.” Arthur stepped into the floo first. He grabbed a handful of floo powder and looked at Harry. “When you get there, I’ll give you the good news.” He smiled. “St. Mungo’s!” He disappeared in a flash of green flame.

“Is she here? Is Hermione really here?” Harry had been given a clean bill of health. He was overjoyed at the news that Hermione had been found alive so many months after her abduction. “Can I see her, please? I want to see to see her.”

“You can see her soon, yes, just don’t get too close.” Arthur wondered how to find the right words to convey all that had happened to Hermione.

“What do you mean, don’t get too close to her? Is she all right?”

Arthur nodded. “Her physical wounds will heal, though it will take time. The emotional wounds will be far-reaching, I’m afraid. Though the worst is over, with all that’s still ahead of her she’ll need her friends to offer all their support. You’ll do that for her, won’t you, Harry? No matter what?” Arthur placed his hands on Harry’s shoulders and looked intently at him, waiting for Harry to promise to do as asked.

“What’s happened to her? Has she been cursed?” Harry was beginning to question the extent of the damage, physical or otherwise, that had been done to her.

“Not cursed, per se,” Arthur struggled to find the words. “It could yet work out for the best.” The expression on his face belied his optimistic words.

“Just tell me! What is it?” Harry itched to run to her side, whatever had happened.

“She’s pregnant.” Arthur whispered.

A look of shock swept Harry’s face. “She’s what? By who? Who did that to her?”

“From what she’s told Severus, we think by Draco.”

Harry was too stunned and angry to fully comprehend every word. “By Draco Malfoy?” He was beyond words for a moment. He looked sharply at Arthur. “She can still have an abortion, can’t she? That’s the best thing. I mean Malfoy…”

Arthur cut him off gently by raising his hand. “Harry, she wants to have the baby.”

“But she can’t! She can’t be serious. No! I won’t let her!” Harry’s voice was getting increasingly louder. “Someone should talk to her about this. Tell her she has choices.”

“She’s spoken a great deal with Severus about this. She knows what her choices are.” Arthur explained patiently.

“With Severus?” Harry could not believe his ears. “As in Severus Snape, the Death Eater?”

“He’s the only one she’ll speak to. He’s the one who rescued her, you know. He discovered where she was being held and on his own initiative planned and with Draco’s help successfully executed a rescue. He’s been wonderful with her since they’ve been here and I think she’s good for him, too.” Arthur hoped Harry could learn to accept this new state of things.

“But he was a Death Eater. I saw him do terrible things.”

“He was no more a Death Eater than you or I, Harry. Oh, I know. He did things, he had to do things, but you must understand that given the role he played, the rules and the risks were far different than they were for us.” He paused for a breath. “He helped you all along; perhaps more than you’ll ever know. Let him help Hermione now. She’s so much calmer and has so much more strength when he’s at her side. As I said, he’s been truly wonderful with her.”

“Maybe she’ll talk to me? I could…”

Again, Arthur tried to calm him by placing a hand on his shoulder. “She’s made her choice, Harry. Please try to accept that.”

“But why? I don’t understand her reasoning.” He could not believe any of this was happening.

“She said it’s time to build new life.” Arthur fell silent for a moment, then continued. “Harry, the war with Voldemort is over. She’s right. It’s time to rebuild what we have. No, the world is not the way we thought it would be or perhaps even how we’d like it to be. But, we’re here and we play the hand we’re dealt the best way we know how. Now is the time for new beginnings. Let the past go. It’s what she wants. It’s what she needs.”

“Does Draco know?” Harry felt numb. “Has he said anything about this?”

Arthur hesitated before answering. “We’re not certain he even understands where he is or why he’s here. Though, on some level I think he knows who he is.” Arthur looked contemplative, in stark contrast to Harry’s utter confusion.

“What do you mean you think he knows who he is? He’s the most self-centered and arrogant prat I’ve ever…”

“Harry, please! You’re only making things harder than they already are.”

“He’s here?” That thought suddenly filtered through to Harry’s conscious mind and it angered him. “Why would he be brought to see Hermione before me?”

“He’s not here to see Hermione, Harry.” Arthur tried to explain. “He’s here as a patient.”

“What?”

“He’s here because he’s had some sort of mental breakdown. As far as we can tell, it’s not the result of any memory charm or anything magical at all, not directly anyway.”

“What are you saying?”

“He’s seen many things… many… terrible things and been forced or he felt compelled to do things he didn’t want to do. But, in the end, I think he used whatever he had left in him to do what was right.”

Harry looked incredulous. “Ron told me he’s the one who kidnapped her. He helped Voldemort for years and nearly cost me both of my best friends. You know what he’s done. He belongs in Azkaban.”

“Aurors have examined his wand. We know what he’s done.”

“Where is he?”

Arthur pointed to a room down the hall from where they stood. “He’s here.” It took only a few seconds to reach the room. Harry opened the door, not really knowing what he’d do or say to the boy who had been his nemesis for so long, and stepped inside.

Draco immediately looked up from the bowl of soup he was eating. His eyes brightened and he smiled. “Harry, I did good! I did good!”

Harry glared at him, the anger building within as he thought of what Draco had done to Hermione. “How can you say that? Do you even know what you’ve done?”

Draco continued to smile. “I did good, yes? I did good…did good…did good.” He scooped another spoonful of soup into his mouth.

“Did you even hear a word I said?” Harry took a step towards him.

Draco continued mumbling, “Did good…did good!” He nodded his head vigorously, a big smile plastered there.

Harry walked over to his bedside and grasped him by the collar of the robe he wore. Draco stared at Harry dumbly, but then the smile returned and again he began babbling, “I did good, Harry. I did good!” He looked up at Harry as if expecting words of praise.

Harry did not know how to react. Whatever he had not expected it was not this. Draco acted as if he were insane. He let go of Draco and backed up a step or two in shock just as Arthur reached his side. He placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “The Ministry has his wand. He’ll never leave here, Harry. He never says anything else. The healers think the damage may be permanent. It’s better for him to be here than in Azkaban. Putting him there would be nothing more than pure vengeance because he wouldn’t know why he was there. He’ll get the help he needs here. It’s what Dumbledore would have wanted.”

“What does he mean he did good?” Harry seemed dumbfounded.

“It’s the last thing he remembers, Harry, the only thing he remembers.” Arthur looked into Harry’s eyes as he spoke. “He helped save Hermione’s life.” Arthur patted Harry on the shoulder. “It was a brave and noble thing he did. You’ll hear the whole story later.”

Harry and Arthur walked quietly out of the room. Draco continued to scream, “I did good! I did good!”

Harry asked, “May I see her now?” He had become very subdued while trying to come to terms with all that he’d learned. Harry followed Arthur to an outside garden. He watched as Severus Snape and Hermione Granger sat perfectly still side by side. Together they watched as birds flitted in and out of the trees and the wind gently carried the scent of flowers. The coming of spring heralded a new beginning. With Draco’s screams still ringing in his ears, a small smile of acceptance crept over his lips when he noticed they held each other’s hand.