| Every parent leaves something behind for their children to remember them by. Lily Evans didn�t know, when she left her diary behind, that it would help her son into knowing her and himself�or did she? Disclaimer: � Trowa no Miko: if you like the sound of ear splitting screams, I think you might like this. Even if this is kind of mushy in my description. PadfootOldBuddyOldPal: My brother (SD_monkey) thanks you for changing server ^_^�, as for the very smart questions that you�ve asked, they should be answered here in this chapter, but if it�s not clear, tell me, and I�ll specify more clearly. SWeeTkIMCHee: Sorry about the spelling mistakes, but the whole thing about ignoring D/G was intentional, to demonstrate that they were moving at an extremely low pace toward each other. If I failed in demonstrating that, well, sorry. And I don�t think I�ll ever publish anything. I write just for fun. Everybody�s fool: Thanks for reviewing on Portkey (I�m pretty low on reviews over there >_<) humble subject: I think you�re definitely right, but I also don�t think that I�m a skilled enough writer to make actions seem that important (I�ve tried and failed, but, as they say, practice makes perfect). As always, thanks for reviewing. On another note, I don�t know what to think about this chapter, each time I think about it I have this �I�m proud of writing this, but also ashamed of it� kind of deal thingy. I don�t know it�s weird. Anyway, this is pretty much the last chapter of the story, but I�m writing another one of graduation (which you will all throw rotten tomatoes at me for because of how I make the Dursleys act), and an epilogue. For the epilogue I want their time capsule to be reopened, but I�m not sure of who should do it. Any suggestions? Give me suggestions, and you might see it happening! I hope you�ll find this good enough. And now, on with the fic: Harry Potter and the Knowledge of a Mother Chapter 17: Blinding Light Ugh, I hate travelling by floo powder. Hermione thought as she landed on her rump in what she knew was Miss Figg�s home, an old lady, friend of Dumbledore, who lived down the street from Harry (to be able to keep watch over him), and had a strange fixation for cats. Oh, her home smelled of cabbages, too. And at the moment, she was explaining to Dumbledore that something strange was going on in Privet Drive lately. The old Headmaster, along with McGonagall, Snape, and Mad-eye Moody, must have either Apparated a short time before she�with Ron and his father�had burst though the chimney, or they used a portkey. She guessed the latter, since Dumbledore was holding a cat shaped key-chain that really didn�t seem to suit him much. Oh, but what was she sitting there lost in thought for? They were running out of time! "Miss Granger," Snape called to her coldly, "would you be so kind as to explain why we had to come to this foul smelling cat pound without notice?" "Well, we don�t have much time, but, in substance," she squirmed to hold the three tomes in her arms better, to pull out a thick leather bound book that both she and Snape were already familiar with, "several months ago, Harry and I, while reading Lily�s diary, read an interesting entry about a vision that she�d had�believe she spoke of it to Professor Dumbledore�and since it sounded familiar I decided to look into it. A short while later I found out that it sounded very much like what Vatis Divinus had prophesised, and we also found Lily�s journal, where she wrote all her visions. In it, what had already interested me became clearer, but there were several matters that were left untouched," Hermione explained. "Does this all have a purpose, Miss Granger?" Snape�s tone was almost threatening. She wasn�t fazed. She kept on going with her retelling, seeming as though she hadn�t even heard him. "When I went to stay with the Weasleys I found that Mrs Weasley had a copy of the last book that Vatis Divinus had written before being exiled and marked as heretic. Cross referencing that with Lily�s visions I managed to get a full premonition." "And what does it say?" Snape was sceptical. "It said that after the return to power of the Dark Lord, he would try to attack the Boy-Who-Lived, but would fail, and wonder about as a thick shadow�" Snape interrupted again. "We already knew that, Miss Granger, it already happened," he taunted her. "Yes, but the next part didn�t!" She shouted at him. The man jumped at the unexpected bound of brave anger on her part. "Let the girl speak Severus," Dumbledore mumbled with a poignant look. Snape looked petrified. "Thank you Professor," she mumbled before going on. "The other part said that, shortly after his second fall, the Dark Lord would get one last chance! Precisely in the moment in which the skies would align themselves the way they had the night he perished the first time�well, he would receive powers like none he ever had before if only he managed to possess the body of the one that brought him down!" Oh, Merlin, she felt like crying! "And we only have a very short time left before that happens!" McGonagall was the first to understand. "The Wizard�s star! The comet that rotates around the Earth and can only be seen by wizards! That had passed right over the Potter�s home when they died!" "Yes, and it�s about to go over Privet Drive!" Hermione shouted. Why were they still sitting here? They had to leave now! She began to make her way to the front door. "Hermione, wait!" Ron�s familiar, scared voice stopped her. "Did the prophecy say�how Harry could defeat him?" Her face crumpled, "It did�but it�s not clear. All it said was that if two lights united to give strength to each other, than neither of them would dim, and they�d make the dark disappear." She wasn�t a prophet, or a Seer, and she�d dropped Divination before the first term was over. She didn�t know how to decipher that, and, judging by the other�s faces, neither did they. Dumbledore knew, but she understood that he wouldn�t tell, and probably for good reason. So she turned on her heels, books clutched tightly to her chest as though they were a shield, and walked out the door to run to Privet Drive number 4. She could hear the rest all following close behind. As soon as she reached the door she found her hand pounding on its wooden surface desperately, bruising her fingers. A while later the door opened to reveal Dudley, even larger than last time. Must be hard to move with all that fat on his bones, no wonder he took so long. "Hi, Dudley, I�m Hermione Granger, remember me?" Oh, Merlin, he was ogling her again! Not waiting for him to reply she let herself in the door. "Where�s Harry, I have to talk to him right away! It�s really important!" In reply she heard a scream from somewhere under the stairs, and the voice emitting it was all too familiar. "Harry?" she asked, worried and surprised. Another incessant shout of pain came from the closed small door of the cupboard. "Harry!" This time her voice was terrified. She threw herself at the door handle, calling out to his name. "Harry! Harry! Can you hear me?" Another agonized sound answered her. There was no key in the door. As Aunt Petunia walked in the hallway, followed closely by Vernon, to see what all the fuss was about, Hermione shouted at her. "There�s no key! Where�s the key? Do you have it?" Dimly she realized that she was crying more than she ever had in her life. It couldn�t be Voldemort. He couldn�t be in there with him! It was too early! The comet had yet to pass. It couldn�t be him yet! Petunia, who had the key in her pocket, was terrified and immobilized by the girl�s display. They had locked him in there because of all the noise he was making. Hermione, irritated at her, pulled out her wand, not caring that there was an ex-Auror behind her who could report her to the Ministry. Yet, that very same Auror told her to open the door, because Harry was injured and bleeding. Moody must have been able to see through the door, and that was all that it took for Hermione. Pointing her wand at the offensive door she called out, "Alohomora!" Her shout was so potent that it nearly tore the door off its hinges. Harry�s shouts were even louder without that barrier. Moody removed the door from her view, giving her, instead, one of Harry. And it was horrible. There he was, lying on what must have been the poorer excuse for a bed that she�d ever seen, holding his hand to his forehead as though it would be able to dim some of his pain, his body convulsing and bending at terrifying angles, and his limbs hitting and slamming against the walls of the cupboard because it was too small for him. There was a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth, his lips split and bruised from his attempts at keeping quiet, he was sweating profusely, and, when the sudden flood of light into the crammed space reached his eyes, Hermione saw that his hand and almost the entire right side of his face was covered with blood, his glasses covered in it. His scar was bleeding. "Oh, Merlin! Ron, help me pull him out of there!" She ordered. The space was so crammed that, with all the pain he was in, he would have only injured himself further if he attempted to make his way out alone. In any case, he made no resistance. Oh, but was he even really there! At that terrifying thought, the second that she managed to get Harry out of the small cupboard she turned him over to look at her, shaking him slightly. "Harry," she whispered urgently, "Harry, look at me! Look at me, Harry! Do you recognize me, Harry? Who am I?" "Hermione," he whispered so quietly that she almost thought she had imagined it. But he had spoken her name, or rather coughed it out past the blood, and when she looked into his eyes she knew. Nobody could ever look so sweetly at her through all that pain. This was Harry. "You�re still you," she whispered, almost laughing. As another bout of pain seized him, she held him to her bosom, ignoring the books that she�d dropped the second that she noticed that Harry was, as a matter of fact, locked in a cupboard. Cradling him in her embrace, trying to dampen his pain, she turned to the rest looking on in astonishment, telling them, "It�s ok, don�t worry, he�s still Harry. Voldemort didn�t get to him yet, but he must be close, or he wouldn�t feel this much pain." Dudley began laughing. Cackling. As everyone, his parents included, turned to him bewildered and scared, Harry�s sounds of pain stopped immediately, almost as though someone had turned off his audio button, like on a TV screen. His hand left h is blood stained forehead, and the now reopened scar was bleeding no longer. It had never been like that. It had never bled. The two events put together were ringing alarm bells in everyone�s mind. "He�s here," Harry whispered, from within the safety of Hermione�s arms. She looked at him, understood that he wished to stand, and helped him in doing so. Dudley had stopped cackling, but the glare that he was sending Harry�s way would have sent a lesser man whimpering to his mother. "Leave him alone, you ugly parasite," he ordered, wheezing after all the strain his screaming had put his voice through. Again, �the ugly parasite� began to cackle, this time more slowly, eerily. Out of the large nostrils of Harry�s pig faced cousin began to ooze out a black floating tar-like substance. Dudley passed out the second all the ooze was out of him, and he looked much thinner than he had seconds before. Voldemort. The only difference between now and a week earlier was that now, the tar cloud was much, much bigger, thicker, and in the midst of it the outline of a face could almost be seen. Even if it wasn�t very defined, Harry knew that face far too well already. Voldemort. Just thinking the name infuriated him and gave him more strength. The strength that came with the wish to protect the things and people he loved. "I really wouldn�t have expected this out from you, Tom," Dumbledore commented, as, once again, he pulled out a sherbet lemon from his robes. Most people would have seemed insane taking that out in such a crucial moment, but when the ancient professor did it, it was taunting, teasing, and insulting to the person addressed. "Living off a Muggle�s energy," he mumbled, taking a sip. The dark cloud that was once known as Tom Riddle was an easy pray to this. "Exactly the reason why it worked!" He spit back. "I don�t know and I don�t care how you found out, though I suspect that the filthy Mudblood had something to do with it, but it�s too late. I�ve been living off that pig since he was at the station, to pick up Harry a week ago. And from him I�ve taken so much strength that I don�t even need my wand to wipe all of you out. He was filthy and stupid, and he had no suspicions that there was someone living off of him. And it was much, much fun watching the great Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, passing his days as a slave to these Muggles," he spit the last word out. So that was how he�d managed to be there. The Dursleys home was probably the most protected place besides Hogwarts for Harry, but all its protection was good only if who was after him was actually seeking him out. It had no effect on someone that had possessed one of the Dursleys, who knew where Harry was and lived with him. "And Harry never even noticed," he began to cackle again. This time, it was Mad Eye Moody that stopped his unseemingly laughter. "Are you really so sure about that?" He sounded much braver than he felt at the moment. "If he never noticed why does he have his wand taped to his arm under that sweater, and all those protective wards on himself?" He asked sharply. "The wards were placed on him when he was in the infirmery," Voldemort replied confidently, "and he would be stupid not to have his wand with him all the time." It was true, even if Voldemort hadn�t come for him, Harry would have still kept his wand with him at all times. Just in case. "I don�t know," Moody continued. "He seemed pretty sure that someone was living off that pig on two legs. Did you think he was here, Harry?" Harry gave a cocky grin that he knew would enrage Voldemort. "Constant vigilance," he replied. "I didn�t notice right away, but I was sure that he was here the day after I arrived. By the second I knew he was with Dudley." Moody gave him an appreciative smile. Voldemort growled. Harry�s eyes told of nothing but challange. He was weak, he felt it, from all the pain and the constant exposure to his presence, but he had no intention of showing it. The black floating substance began to circle him, and he circled as well. Harry didn�t blink as Voldemort led him in the kitchen. The rest watched from the doorways, Vernon and Petunia terrified. Harry did his best not to look over at them, he had no intention of letting his enemy, his parents� murderer, know that he was worried for them. But it was all for nought. Voldemort knew him well. "Aww, worried for your little Mudblood friend, Potter?" Harry automatically stiffened. "Don�t worry, she�ll get what she deserves when I�m done with you." Impulsively, Harry ripped his wand from under his sweater, pointed it at the ground, and shouted out, erecting a barrier. "VALLUM SOBLATUM!" At first the wall of light was small, revealing just how weak Harry was at the moment, but the knowledge that Hermione would be safe outside of it gave him the strength to make it grow enough to reach all the windows and doorways. He was effectively locked in with Voldemort, much like he had been a week, prior, only that this time Hermione wasn�t in the Dark Lord�s reach, and Cicciobello was still at Hogwarts getting fixed up. And he didn�t know whether to be glad of it, or scared. "Harry!" He heard Hermione�s shout from the other side of the barrier. He wouldn�t look at her. He wouldn�t let Voldemort know exactly what she meant to him. "Harry!" She screamed as she began to bang on the barrier, almost trying to break through it. But all that managed to do was make a dull, muted sound, almost as though the barrier absorbed it. And if felt cold, freezing beneath her already bruised knuckles, wet and mobile as water, but as unpenetrable as steel. And it made her desperate enough to beg Harry to let her in. "Harry, Harry, please, let me in, there isn�t much time left," dimly she noticed that her eyes had filled with so many tears that she could only see blurry blotches of color through the salty water covering her vision. Harry was getting on edge, he didn�t know what Hermione meant by time running out, and her tears were ripping him to shreads, while Voldemort incessantly droned of what he would do the people Harry loved once that he would take over his body. In the meantime, Hermione kept trying to get Harry�s attention by banging on the barrier, when she finally looked at the miniature star chart that she kept on her wrist as a watch. It worked much like a watch, the only difference being that instead of showing the time, or the hours, it showed the moving of the stars overhead. She�d programmed it to warn her when the comet would be in alignment. And, just as her eyes fell on it, a red glow began to shine out of it, warning her of doom not too far behind. Terrified, she looked to Harry, still circling around Voldemort, light sweat across his bloody brow, his wand poised for either attack of defence, while the black bubble of tar kept on talking of torture and murder. And, as though coming out a tunnel of stunned fear she shrieked to him, "HARRY! IT�S TIME! WATCH OUT!" Without stopping to ask questions, or even think, full of trust in Hermione, Harry shouted a strong stunning spell that Dumbledore had tought a couple months back in Duel Training, but he was too late. Just as the burst of red light exploded from his wand, Voldemort solidified before his eyes, the face within the tar mists becoming more difined, and launched himself into the boy�s chest, where his heart was, effectively disappearing into it, the tar oozing through his clothes, skin, organs, until it reached Harry�s soul, where he would break the boy. Hermione watched in horror as she saw Harry�s vision turn inward, his eyes wide open, his spectacles bloody from his earlier pains, and his body collapse on the ground much like a lifeless, boneless rag doll, his limbs bent as impossible angles, convulsions running across his entire form, more blood trickling from his mouth. "HARRY!?" Hermione screeched as she dropped to her knees, tears pouring from her eyes like water from a waterfall. "HARRY!" Then she turned to a whisper. "Harry, please, Harry! Let me in! Let me in!" Behind her, Ron spoke to Dumbledore. "There must be some way to break through this bloody barrier!" He shouted, outraged, angered, and scared. He�d never, in all their adventures, felt as useless as he did now. "No," Hermione whispered, certain and hopeless. "No, these barriers are impenetrable," her tone was defeated and desperate. "The only way I�d be able to cross it would be for Harry to call me in!" She sobbed, and turned to pounding the wall of liquid light. "Harry, let me in! Let me in!" An old, comforting, wrinkled old hand rested on her shoulder, shooting her, to some extent. She looked up in the twinkling half moon spectacles of her headmaster, professor Dumbledore. "You�ll go through soon enough." She believed him, maybe because he was a Seer, yet she wasn�t very comforted by the thought. "Oh, Harry, what�s going on inside of you?" �*� Harry felt as though he was suffocating, smothered by something greater than himself, something that he would never be strong enough to fend off, much less defeat. Black was all around him, and it was thick, and sticky, and heavy, and it left no room for hope. He struggled against it, tried to regain control of his body, but he was already so weak, and each attempt to fight it seemed only able to give more strength to his enemy, wearing him out considerably. He wouldn�t be able to hold out much longer. And then, almost as though hearing his thoughts, Voldemort, all around him, began to cackle, the sound coming from everywhere and nowhere, filling him, echoing within him, giving him a sense of foreboding that chilled him to the core. "You know what the best thing about possessing your body will be, Potter?" He asked rethorically. "It will be breaking your little Mudlood, that filthy Granger! How do you think she would feel looking at your face, and knowing that you�re in there but without the power to stop me from killing her, knowing that you will never really be there anymore? How would she react in those few seconds that she�ll have left to live?" Harry�s entire body was wracked by horrible, terrified shudders, and, unconsciously, he called to her. "Hermione�" �*� Hermione� She jumped to her feet as she heard his voice calling out to her. "Hermione?" She heard Ron say her name in surprise as she fervently wiped away at the tears that still filled her eyes. She smiled at him. A smile that spoke of nothing but hope. "He�s calling me," and with that, she placed her hand against the cold, horrible barrier, and walked confidently through it, her body giving a impulsive shudder at the feeling of thousands of iced needles pricking her as she did. Ignoring it, she stepped around him, cradling his head in her arms, his back resting on her bent legs. His eyes were still turned inward, but they weren�t the glaring white that had been before anymore. No, there were horrible black mists swirling on them, and, upon closer inspection, she realized that the mist was beginning to spot his skin. Fighting back the tears she held on more tightly to him. She didn�t know what to do, but whatever it was, she knew that she would be able to help him. She had to think that, or feel completely lost. "Oh, Harry," she whispered, "Oh, Harry, please hold on. Please! You�re so strong Harry, you can�t lose against him!" She told him, and watched as he seemed to breath in more deeply, as though he was taking the breath and strength to fight back. She was incouraged by it. "Harry, you�re strong, you can do this!" She told him confidently. "And�if you don�t think your strength is enough�then�take mine!" She said, leaning over to him to whisper in his ear, her nose grazing his cheek. "Take my strength, Harry," she ordered him, watching as his eyes filled with black, and then leaned over, placing a soft kiss on his lips, trying to breath her strength into him. It wasn�t likely to work, she knew, but, at the moment, it was all that she could think of. After all, Harry, at the moment, was very weak and needed all the strength he could get, while Voldemort was stronger than he�d ever been before. But, to Hermione�s surprise, her attempt of giving him some of her power seemed successful. She felt herself being lifted off of the ground, floating several inches above the floor, Harry, body limp and eyes still filled with black mist, did the same. She realized that, inside of all that was happening, he was probably completely unaware of what going on outside of it, and, in all honesty, she was too. But whatever was going on around her, she wouldn�t mind so long as she had the certainty that it would help him. Since the first day she�d met him, all she�d ever wanted to do was help him. And, as she took his hands in hers and laced their fingers together, she knew this was right. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, and whispered again, "Take my strength." And then her mind went blank. Her sight turned inward, so that she would never know that in that one second the mist in Harry�s eyes began to disappear. Pillars of blinding light began to shine out of both their eyes, their mouths, their ears, their hands, their laced fingers, their skin. They began to hover in spinning circles around each other, their speed building continuously, until, finally, they couldn�t be seen amongst the blinding light that illuminated the room in its completion. Strong, blinding, glaring white light was everywhere, all around them. They were pure light in that moment. And somewhere in the middle of that Harry began to regain his consciousness. He realized that he could breath better than he had in months, feeling strong, powerful, free. And freedom was the most unexpected feeling of all. The light was beginning to die down around them, and they were able to open their eyes. The first thing they noticed was each other, and there was nothing more reassuring that to see the one face that they loved the most smiling at the other in triumphant understanding. They weren�t very clear on what had happened, but they knew that they had done it. And then they felt their feet touching the ground, while over their heads a whispered wirring, almost like a small windwhirl, could be heard. They looked above to see a cloud of black ashes hovering over them. "Harry," Dumbledore called his attention. Without hesitation, the pair moved out of the ashes� range, while Harry pointed his wand to the top of his barrier and brought it down with a quick: "Desilire." Before the barrier was even all the way down, Snape, tight faced and apparantly enraged, moved over to stand close enough to the whirling ashes, but far enough that he would not be touched by it when it would drop. And drop it did. Nearly instantly, and directly at his feet, though it seemed to float back in the air for a second. "Resistance if futile," he muttered bitterly as he took some lighter colored dust out of a pouch he�d been holding and spread it so that it almost completely covered the ashes. Confused, Ron, Harry, and Hermione, tried to step closer, to see what he was doing, but he gruffly pushed them back. "Watch it, or you might get singed," his tone was scary enough to make them back up till the doorway. And then, out of the folds of his robes, he took a vial filled with glowing red liquid, stirred it within its confinement, and, after deciding that it was ready, smashed it in the center of the pile of dust and ashes. Immediately, the pile of dirt took fire, and out of its bright flames, the outline of an agonized face could be seen. Voldemort�s face. A voice growled in outraged pain, cursing the maker of the potion. Voldemort�s voice. And then the outline tried to reach Snape, but the potions master threw more of the dust from the pouch onto the flames, making them grow in a sudden outburst. Voldemort�s outline screeched like a Banshee, screaming his agony and his defeat. He was dead. And then the fire died, along with the voice and the outline. "To quote the Muggles," Snape mumbled haughtily, "Ashes to ashes/Dust to dust." Then he pulled his wand out, pointed it at the burnt spot of the kitchen floor, and called out, "Evanesca!" And it was all gone. As though nothing had ever happened. Even the floor was as perfect as it had always been. "My scar," Harry whispered, reaching his hand up to touch it. "It�feels strange." Terrified by what it could mean, Hermione spun around to face him, her hand automatically reaching to move his bangs out of the way, but what she saw was not at all what she�d expected. "Harry! Harry, it�s healing!" She told him exited. And it was true, before her eyes, the opened, bloody wound began to close up, the blood disappearing from his brow, and then, the cut that had always looked fresh, began to truly scar and turn thick, knotted, and white. It had become a true scar. And that could only mean one thing. "Your bond to Voldemort died with him," Dumbledore had told him. Hermione was certain of it. "He�s really gone," Harry heard himself say in surprise. After seven years of battles against him, sixteen years after their first fight, Voldemort was finally gone, never to come back again. "But if that�s the case, why didn�t it just disappear?" Ron asked confused. "Because its link to Lily is indestructable," Hermione replied confidently, and, for the first time in his life, Harry felt proud of baring a lightining bolt shaped scar on his forehead. And then, almost as though there was almost too much to take in that moment, he felt his consciousness slipping away, and Hermione�s small frame keeping him from thudding on the floor. He was too weak, and he�d just used far too much power to close the last chapter of his ongoing war with the Dark Lord. Though he wasn�t aware at the moment, he was certain that only a few minutes later, Hermione laid down next to him, and joined him in the land of dreams. �*� Harry woke up in Dudley�s second bedroom, warm and safe in the bed, a comforting presence next to him. He opened his eyes to see Hermione�s sweet face, still asleep and as comfortable as he was, barely an inch from his face. Reaching to tuck a strand of her bushy hair behind her ear he felt the strongest wish to wake up this way every morning, her face the first he saw upon rising, the last he would see before falling asleep at night. And he wanted to protect her, be protected by her, just like what had happened before he fell asleep. He couldn�t be sure, because at the moment he�d been in a state of trance, but he clearly heard her telling him to take her strength, and then he�d felt her power seeping in through his mouth, as though she�d breathed it into him. Kissed it into him. Even if he couldn�t be certain of it, it was a wonderful, reassuring, warming thought. Muffled voices interrupted his train of though from outside the bedroom door. He strained to hear them. His Uncle Vernon was easy to hear, because of his usual tendancy to shout when around those �magical freaks�. "We don�t know how to take care of his�illness!" He could hear him saying, probably referring to the scar that had bled so profusely, earlier. Codswallop, he thought. They just didn�t want him around anymore, and he didn�t want to be around them. He had no intention of sticking around to listen to his Aunt Petunia complain about the destruction of her kitchen floor, which was now completely restored. Dumbledore�s hushed voice followed. The more Harry knew the man, the most mysterious he seemed to him. Through Lily�s diary, he�d found out that the Headmaster was a Seer, and, apparently, a strong one. Had he known about this from the beginning? Was that why he chose to simply let things unfold before him, while all he did was sip lemon sherbets and taunted Tom Riddle? Possibly. And then he heard Mr Weasley�s outraged huff. "The boy is a hero! And you treat him as though he were nothing but a common criminal! I�ll take him with me to my home!" His tone was final, and nobody argued with it. Worried, Harry looked to Hermione, who was just rousing because of the muted shouts on the other side of the door. Wordlessly he put a finger to his lips, and she nodded, understanding that something important might have been discussed. Just then, new footsteps were heard, followed by Severus Snape�s harsh, cold voice. "Mad Eye has gone to file his report in the Ministry and Minerva has already told everything to the Daily Prophet. She has already returned to Hogwarts." "Good," Arthur Weasley replied. "As soon as those two wake up, we�ll floo back to the Burrow," he announced. "I would like to speak with Potter first," Snape sounded embarrassed in saying it, and Harry and Hermione looked at each other in confusion. What did he wish to speak about? It was true that Harry wanted to speak to his Potions master after what he�d done against Voldemort, but he�d thought that Snape would try to avoid him till the term was over. In any case, there were no objections from the hallway. Whatever it was, Harry didn�t want to think about it at the moment. He looked at Hermione, thoughtfully furrowed brow, nibbling on her bottom lip adorably before him. "How did you find out what was going to happen tonight?" He knew that she was amazing when it came to finding out things that nobody else would have ever guessed, but it was always wonderful to watch her face light up with the exitement of a challanging research. She gave him a dazzling smile and hoped quietly out of bed, reaching for Lily�s diary, which sat right on Harry�s study desk, where she�d left it before joining Harry in their slumber. "It started from here," she whispered, so that she couldn�t be heard outside of the room. "Remember when we read about that first premonition where she spoke about you?" She asked as she began flipping through the pages. He nodded. Incouraged by that, she went into a much more detailed retelling of how her research had gone. "That pendant you gave me for Christmas was a lifesaver, Harry! The carvings were glowing so brightly when I read that passage written by Divinus that it almost blinded me!" And then she quieted down. "It�s a good thing I found out about it when I did. If I hadn�t we might have been too late." He smiled at her. "You know that could never happen." She blushed profusely, and looked down in the quickly flipping pages to hide it. But�what was going on? Instead of words, instead of the parchment looking blank because of the speed with which she flipped through them, there was a face. She gasped. The diary slipping out of her hands and landing with a soft muted thump on the bed. Lily�s face! Harry�s eyebrow furrowed. "Hermione?" She looked at him, her eyes wide in surprise. "Harry," she began, whispering a little too loudly and urgently. "Harry, I saw your mother!" She told him, taking the book back in her hands and sitting next to him to show him. What was she talking about? And then he saw it, too. When she flipped to the first page, and let the pages run quickly through her hands, on the parchment there was the face of Lily Evans at age seventeen, before she became his mother, smiling proudly at him. "I love you, Harry," she whispered, her voice sounding old, proud, but distant. "I�ll love you always." Oh, Merlin! She�d known about him! She�d known about him far before she�d even married James! Then, Lily�s vision turned to Hermione. "Take care of him. He needs you, Hermione. You�re his light. Take care of each other." And only a second after she said that, the pages finished, and the image disappeared. Both of them stared at the back of the thick, leather bound book. Lily had known about Hermione as well. Exactly how much had Lily known in her Hogwarts years that she hadn�t reported in either the diary or the journal? Not knowing what to say, Hermione tried. "Harry�" she whispered. Oh, Merlin, her voice was so fragile it broke. She cleared her throat but found that fresh tears were coming to her eyes. He placed his finger on her bottom lip, tracing it slightly and silencing her. "Don�t say anything," he told her. "She already said everything for us." He was right. As she looked into Harry�s eyes, the look of pure love he was giving her, she knew that there was nothing to add. Except maybe one thing, she thought as she watched him bringing her face closer to his. And then as though he was pulling her out of the fog of the last few months, he pulled her to him for a kiss that even time had to stop and wait in standby for. Hermione drank it, drowned in it, lost herself in its depths, needing it more than the air itself. Needing it as much as a drug addict needed a fix after too long a period of withdrawal. Suddenly a thought came to her as she pulled away. "Am I allowed to remember this one, or will I have to forget it, too?" Harry smiled, and, laughing, told her, "You�d better remember every kiss we share from now on," and then pulled her in for another soul searing kiss. Thinking with a grin that there was the promise of many kisses yet to come. �*� "Did you want to talk to me, Professor?" Harry asked as he stepped into the living room that had been taken over, much to the Dursleys� chagrin, by the gruff, greasy potions master. "Sit, Potter," was his monotoned reply. Harry did as told. "What you�saw me do in there, with��him��" he began awkwardly, "it never happened," he concluded finally. Harry blinked. "What?" "It never happened," he repeated. "I wasn�t here. The only ones who helped you were Miss Granger and Headmaster Dumbledore." Harry knit his eyebrows. "Why?" He asked. "You could be a hero," was he afraid of his ex-fellow Death Eaters coming to get revenge on him for having finished off their leader? The reply, however, surprised him. "Because I owe it to your mother." Harry would have never expected that. But he nodded in understanding, and to close the discussion Snape told Harry that he was "Dismissed." Harry stood, but, before leaving the teacher alone, he told him, "I�m sure she�s very proud of you now." Snape seemed unaffected by it, but for some unknown reason, Harry knew that it had been the right thing to say. A short few minutes later, Harry made his way to Miss Figg�s behind Ron and his father, fingers laced with Hermione�s, trying to think of all the things that had happened in such a short time, taking strength from her warm hand. He didn�t know what to expect from school, or even when to expect school, but he knew that it wasn�t over. Voldemort still had followers out there, and they would still come after him, but he knew he could live though it all if he was with her. Because they were stronger when they put their forces together for the purpose of protecting each other. To be continued. Author�s notes: I hope you all enjoyed this. Next chapter out on Friday. Please tell me what you though at [email protected] or simply leave a review. Thank you Pearl Drop Angel |