Chapter XVIII

Early in the morning, Harry received a letter that announced the arrival of Erik Lindström-their assigned advocate from the banking consortium. Harry instructed Kreacher to put the house in order and to lead him to the sitting room upon his arrival.

He and Hermione both dressed formally and sat across each other, waiting.

They had been both working hard to maintain the peaceful atmosphere between them. They spoke carefully, as though returning to an earlier version of their friendship-before the hesitation faded into certainty and trust, before the formation of the assurance that no matter what, they'd always snap back together. Now every careless word carried the risk of shattering the fragile civility they had forged between them.

Harry sensed the effort even when she believed she hid it well. He recognized the deliberate calm in her posture, the way she softened disagreements before they formed, and it left him both grateful and uneasy.A part of him wanted the old arguments back, the easy certainty that they could clash and recover without consequence.

They spoke softly and politely to each other, carefully threading around and away from each other's traumas, or where they knew, it'd hurt. Yet they showed their care through the little things that mattered most. The nearly ceremonial reading of the news by Hermione, afternoon tea and biscuit's by Harry, the uncalled glass of water when either of them coughed, or the refusal to eat before both were present and seated at the table.

Harry often caught her watching him, she didn't look away immediately, she'd smile and pretend to be busy with something. They did not speak of the pub, nor the words that were spoken, but they both knew that the glass was broken between them, and perhaps for the better. The veil had fallen, their egos had clashed, yet they had remained, wounded perhaps, but they chose to stay, willing to make things right, willing to make things work, and willing to forgive.

Hermione felt it most in the pauses. She noticed how Harry no longer filled silences with restless motion or abrupt remarks, how he watched her sometimes as if trying to determine whether she was still angry. The memory of the pub lingered unpleasantly clear in her mind... The raised voices, the flash of hurt she had seen in him when she pushed too far, and her own realization that she had crossed into something emotional, and once spoken it could not be folded neatly away again, not that she wanted to.

So she chose patience. She asked practical questions, kept her voice even, allowed him space to arrive at conclusions without guiding him there. It felt strangely formal between them, like they were both just beginning to know each other. In a way it was true, neither of them knew the other as partners, or as lovers. The ground beneath them no longer felt solid. Every step landed on thin ice and all it needed to break, was one miscalculated move. Yet beneath that restraint ran a quieter awareness... Relief, perhaps, that he was still here at the table across from her, still choosing to stay despite everything that was said, and everything that should've been said.

She felt his gaze on her when she least expected it. When she was reading, or when she did chores around the house just to busy herself. He'd smile and turn his head, but she'd already feel warmer for it.

Hermione still felt the steady pulse of hatred that emanated from him, yet was comforted that it wasn't directed at her. She thought she might have driven him away after that argument. She had threatened him that night. She did the one thing she had promised herself not to do, losing patience with him. She knew he'd have preferred to ease into a relationship with her, but she had long made up her mind and waiting for him to catch up was laborious.

She had to let him get there on his own. He had sub-consciously blocked what he could've felt for her for years because of Ron, and she knew it'd be hard to overcome that. It was the way things worked between boys,

---

Erik Lindström arrived at Grimmauld Place in the afternoon. He was a tall thin man with very pale skin and ash-blond hair combed back severely. His Swedish accent was crisp and precise. He carried a slim black leather portfolio and wore a charcoal three-piece suit that looked quietly expensive.

Harry and Hermione met him in the first-floor sitting room. Kreacher had left tea and shortbread on the low table but nobody touched them. Lindström opened his portfolio laid out the transfer steps, and every probable scenario. He answered Hermione's questions by pointing to exact lines without hesitation. "Baron Stieglitz has instructed absolute transparency." He had said.

By the end both Harry and Hermione felt cautious relief. The man was dry competent almost bored as though moving ancient vaults was routine. He promised to owl the confirmed Gringotts meeting date within forty-eight hours then left with a quiet crack.

---

Sometime after the meeting, Hermione found Harry in front of the Black family tapestry. She had found him there more than a dozen times in the past few days. This tapestry, and Harry's fixation with it had become a constant in Hermione's nightmares. Always the same one, he stood rigidly in front of it, and when she called him, or touched him, he'd turn to look at her, his face covered in scars and his green eyes, hollow and vacant of any sign of life. She'd scream and run, until darkness swallowed her. Every night, she went to bed with the same sense of foreboding, that she'd find him right there, with the same scars.

Finding living Harry in that room, had become as intimidating as in the nightmares. She half-thought that one of these days, she'd call him and he'd turn to reveal a face full of scars. She shook her head vigorously as she walk behind him.

He turned his head only enough to acknowledge her presence.

"why do you keep staring at it?" She asked softly.

"I never had a family."

"Is that why you keep coming here? To stare at Sirius family tree?"

"No... But I wonder what its like to have so many relatives. Cousins, Nieces, aunts and uncles... Well I do have an aunt and a cousin, but you know how they are..."

"Do you want to visit them?"

"Them? My aunt and uncle? Are you mad?"

"Harry I have a theory..." She said uncertainly, as though wondering if it is a good time, but anything would do, anything that would take him away from that accursed tapestry.

"Well do tell." He replied with a forced smile.

"Do you remember how the locket affected us? That piece of Voldemort's soul made all three of us behave nastily... Ron more than us, but still..."

"What are you getting at?"

"What if, and its just a thought, but what if they were so horrible to you because you had a piece of his soul within you?"

"Hermione I had a piece of his soul inside me for 17 years and I didn't treat anyone nastily. No they were nasty to me because that's what they are."

"That does complicate things..."

"Duddley seemed somewhat reformed though, last I saw him... The dementor incident had really affected him..."

"lets drop by for a quick hello, what do you say?"

"Hermione even if I did want to see them-which I don't by the way-I wouldn't take you with me. They are horrible people, and I wouldn't be able to stand it if they were mean to you."

"Well, lets just drop by, say hi, tell your aunt that the wizard who killed her sister is dead, and if they ask us in, we go in, otherwise you know for sure that they are not changed and my theory is wrong."

"She wouldn't care..."

"I remember that you told me, that she told you that she lost a sister that night..."

"One moment of epiphany doesn't wash away everything else that she said about my parents..."

"I know that Harry..."

"To be honest with you I've been thinking about dropping by too..."

"How come?"

"I don't know... I sense a lack of closure... I don't know if its me or them..."

"Well then its settled, isn't it?" She said excitedly.

"Why do you insist on it so much?"

"Well... If they are changed, you can have something like a family again..." She said with a smile, though in truth she didn't care about his muggle relatives, and she had no interest in meeting them. She just wanted to pull him away from that tapestry, and out of Grimmauld Place. "That isn't a bad thing, is it?" She added finally.

"No I suppose its not."

---

At lunchtime an owl brought a plain cream envelope from Darya Petrova. Inside lay a small brass key and one handwritten line.

28 Elmcroft Avenue, Golders Green, London NW11 8AF. The wards recognise your blood and should do the same for hers.

Welcome home.

Darya Igorevna Petrova

"That's where I grew up. Its very close to Hampstead Garden where my Mum and Dad used to live." Said Hermione.

Harry noticing the sadness in her voice reached a hand over and brushed her fingers gently. "Would you be comfortable to come with me?"

"Yeah," Her fingers brushed his absent-mindedly, before pulling away gently. "I can apparate us there..."

"Are you sure, I don't want you to be upset..."

"I'll be fine Harry."

He smiled and stood. "Whenever you're ready then."

Half an hour later Hermione came downstairs wearing a simple yet elegant deep crimson dress with three-quarter sleeves, a lean and stylish jacket hung from her forearm. Harry had already changed into his only muggle suit, the jet black coat and trousers with a plain white shirt. He caught her eye in the mirror and gave a small, self-conscious shrug.

"I look like a waiter."

"No you don't," she said, the corner of her mouth lifting. "OK maybe with a bow tie..." She tilted her head, as if trying to imagine him in a bow tie. "I'll get you one." She teased.

"Why do you want to make me ugly?"

"To keep you to myself of course. Don't you know how mean I am?"

"Well don't worry no one's after me."

"Liar..." She said in a mocking whisper, and Harry laughed.

"How do I look? Is the red too much?"

"Beautiful as ever." Said Harry with a bright smile.

She smiled, and for a few seconds neither of them seemed to remember caution or restraint.

"And you look stylish," She returned the smile sincerely. "as ever." She added.

"You could do with pearls though... I should get you some, I'm sure some woman in this family has had pearls, maybe we should ask Kreacher..." He looked around, as though looking for the elf.

"Pearls?" She mouthed in disbelief. "Are you saying I'm old?"

"Old? I didn't know pearls come with an age tag... Besides, you are older than me..." He grinned.

"You are so silly Harry Potter." She wasn't offended, perhaps just taken off-guard.

"Yeah you know me... Silly Harry Potter..." It was at that moment, that they both remembered what happened the last time they said these words, and snapped back to reality.

The words lingered between them a fraction too long. The memory followed immediately, uninvited, and the ease between them faded into smoke.

"You're not silly Harry, and you don't look like a waiter," she said softly. "I'll be downstairs."

"You're fine without pearls..." Harry said, quieter now.

---

They apparated to Hampstead Garden. The quiet suburban street looked exactly as she remembered from two years ago, neat houses, trimmed hedges, ordinary life humming behind curtained windows. Hermione stood still for a long moment, taking it in.

"Do you want to visit your home?"

"Its just a house without my parents..."

"I'm sorry Hermione. Just say when, and we'll go right to Australia... I wanted to take you there anyway..."

"You did?"

"Yeah, you asked me to take you away from here, after the ritual, so I thought why not Australia, but then everything else happened..."

"I thought you forgot..." She smiled.

"I don't forget things Hermione..."

"You just pretend they never happened..."

"No I remember, and constantly work on making them happen."

"I would have liked to know..."

"It was supposed to be a surprise."

They walked slowly. It was a relief to be away from the chaos of the wizarding world for once. Ordinary people walked in the low tempo of suburban life. Many of them smiled at them as they passed. 'Proper English manners.' Harry thought, remembering Phineas affinity for it, though he hardly ever practised it.

They took a left followed by an immediate right. A group of kids were playing football, using a shiny new ball-undoubtedly someone's Christmas present-and bricks for goals. One kick sent the ball rolling toward Harry. He stopped it easily and nudged it back.

An Indian looking kid caught it and said 'thanks uncle' and they all resumed their game.

"Uncle..." Hermione grinned.

"Suppose that's a good thing." He chuckled.

"Of course it is."

They had reached their destination. Harry turned the key and entered before Hermione. The house was modest two storeys with a small front garden and plain white net curtains. Nothing about it stood out. It looked exactly like every other house on the street safe unremarkable and quiet. Inside the air smelled faintly of fresh paint and unused space. Light filtered through the net curtains casting soft patterns on plain beige carpet. The furniture was simple a sofa two armchairs a low table everything neutral and functional. A small kitchen opened off the hallway with basic cupboards and a kettle already set out on the counter. Upstairs would be two bedrooms and a bathroom all equally ordinary. The whole place felt deliberately forgettable the kind of house no one would look at twice.

"Well I'd say this is pretty livable." Said Harry.

"Would you prefer to live here?"

"I'd live in a den if..." He hesitated, realizing too late how much truth sat behind the joke.

"If what?"

"If you are there with me..."

Hermione paused. There he was doing it again. He said things like that, gentle and sincere, but never far enough to feel certain. She forced a smile, and felt her face resist her in rearranging its muscles.

"I wouldn't live in a den. Tent maybe..." She turned away, pretending to examine the cabinets.

"Don't avoid me Hermione..." His voice held a quiet plea.

"I'm not... I'm giving you space... That's what you wanted..."

"I don't want the space that is void of you..."

She turned, her expression unreadable. She drew a breath, trying to contain herself, searching for the strength needed to continue holding up the mask, and failed, everything she's been hiding since the pub, and perhaps even before that came spilling out in one sudden confession. "I'm scared Harry."

"Of what?" He asked softly.

She hesitated, searching for a safer answer and finding none.

"Of everything," she said quietly. "Of what we've done. Of what it means. Of how we are all changing..."

Harry frowned slightly but didn't interrupt.

"Of how the world is changing, Harry. People are being killed by this thing... Old and young the same... And somehow we are standing in the middle of it pretending we can take this slowly."

Her voice tightened.

"I'm scared for Ron. I feel like his constantly falling... I'm scared for myself, I'm scared of sleeping because of the nightmares... I'm scared of losing control, I'm scared of becoming something I'm not..."

Her voice reverberated in the empty house. She looked at him then, properly. He stood where he was, looking at her with unblinking green eyes, and for a second she saw his face, covered in scars, and she shivered.

"And I'm terrified of losing you while we're trying to figure out what we even are."

A small breath left her, almost like a sob.

"I feel like I've pushed you away, I lost my resolve and said things I can't take back..."

She leaned against the freshly painted wall.

"I don't know what to do with myself any more, and you're not helping..." She held her face in her hands.

"Hermione," He began gently.

"I get it, you want the vaults to be out of the way so that you'd have time for me... I kept thinking why you're so hesitant, why are you being so calculated with me..." She raised her head to look at him. "Harry you're not the thinking type, you're not the type that strategises and plans, you just do, you follow your heart, but you're not doing that... Somehow I've made you scared of trusting yourself... And I hate myself for it..."

Harry sighed, and drew a deep breath to steady himself, but his temper was getting the best of him. He wanted to shout, or to punch a wall, but he wouldn't risk scaring her, no, he would never make her feel unsafe. Yet something deep stirred within him, deep in his chest was a force that threatened to explode if he didn't let go, if he didn't let it breathe.

"In this world of yours..." He looked away from her, his tone dark and foreboding despite his effort to keep his voice even. "Where I'm to blame for everything, What happens if I close the distance right now, hold you close to me and kiss you?"

She looked at him. Her heart pounding in her chest. She felt his hatred pulsate from him, radiating from him like waves of fire, but for the first time since the ritual, she felt burned by it, not that it was directed at her, but as though he no longer shielded her from the darkness within him. She blinked, not believing her senses, it was Harry, the Harry she loved, and he was suffering before her eyes, burning with the spite the she had unleashed in him, and yet, he shielded her from it, for weeks he had burned wordlessly, and she who had decided to be the one to calm him, to contain him, had failed to do her job.

"Answer me Hermione." He turned to face her fully. "Please."

"I..." She began but words failed her.

"You threatened to abandon me, and now you wonder why I calculate my every move around you?"

"Harry I didn't,"

"Let me tell you what happens in my world, if I do what my heart tells me to," He took a step closer "I risk everything, and you push me away, just like before, and I can't afford to lose you."

"I'm not going anywhere..." She said, hiding a sob.

"You know I lied to you, I didn't want to go to privet drive for any kind of closure, I wanted to go there and burn it to the ground, with my vulture of an aunt and her fat husband in it! They tortured me for 17 years!"

"No..." She moaned, clutching her mouth.

"I bought this place, because I thought we can live in it, away from that haunted house, away from the Weasleys, the ministry, the minister and his monster..." He undid a button from his shirt. "I lost everything I ever loved to the magical world, my parents, my friend, my god father... And if I lost you too, it can all go to hell for all I care."

He took his jacket off, folded it under his arm and paced by the window.

"Harry..."

"You have no idea what I wrestle with in my head, I resent the very air I breathe," He tossed the jacket away. "And you, you are the only thing that binds me to life," The windows had began to rustle against their frames, reacting to the magic that was building up in the house. Harry's anger seemed to fill the void and threaten to implode, yet never unrestrained, never out of control, not when she'd get caught in it. "Tethers me to civility. And if I lost you, I'd burn this world to ash, and I wouldn't stop until there was only silence!"

Hermione slid down the wall and sat on the floor, her knees bent in her chest. "Its all my fault." She sobbed. "I broke you open... The guardian warned me that this would happen, I didn't listen, I wanted you back, the normal you, not that placid husk that lived in the basement for months... I was so selfish..."

"Don't you listen Hermione?"

"I listened, I understood, I broke you..." She held her face in her forearms.

"Look at me," He said, taking a step closer to her.

She lifted her head and looked at him with teary eyes.

"You did not break me. You are the only reason I am still human." He finally closed the distance and knelt at her level. "You are the single ray of light in my miserable world." He held her hands in his. "I think about our years at Hogwarts, and wonder how many times I could've fallen in love with you, how many opportunities I've missed, and how I'd be dead five times without you," He brushed a stray tear drop off her cheek. "You've always been there, through everything, and I've realized that I've loved you forever, I was blinded, you gave me sight, and with that I see the most Beautiful thing in my life, that I've been ignorant to for years..."

"Oh Harry..."

"I didn't ask you for time Hermione, I wanted to come to you a better man, not with this... Burden..."

"I don't need you to be better," she whispered. "I just need to know you won't disappear again... Not behind silence."

"Don't you cry for me," He cupped her face, brushing off the trail that her tears had left behind. "Not for me... I'm not worth it..."

He stood, taking her hand and helping her up. They stood close to each other.

"Don't say that..." She said, her tone a whisper.

They stared at one another as though searching for something long forgotten, emerald met amber and slowly, almost without realizing it, they leaned closer until their foreheads touched. The contact stilled them both, a silent reassurance that neither had stepped away.

Hermione's hands hesitated only a moment before sliding around his waist, holding him carefully at first, as though afraid he might break or vanish if she held too tightly. Harry exhaled, the tension leaving him in a long, unsteady breath, and his arms came around her in return, drawing her closer until there was no space left between them.

He rested his chin lightly against her hair. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest, uneven at first, then gradually slowing. The storm that had filled the room moments before seemed to recede, replaced by a fragile calm that neither dared disturb.

They remained like that for what felt like an eternity, unmoving, anchored only by warmth and breath. Thought faded, replaced by the steady rhythm of shared presence, their heartbeats slowly finding the same quiet tempo. A thousand unspoken words lingered between them, no longer demanding voice, understood simply by the fact that neither let go.

They slowly pulled apart, neither stepping far.

"Let's find you the closure you need, shall we? Without arson preferably..." she said with a faint smile, fastening the upper button of his shirt.

"No promises..." he replied, smiling back as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Hermione summoned his jacket into his free hand. Their fingers intertwined, and the world folded inward as they apparated.

They landed with the sharp crack of apparition. Little Whinging looked as dull and ordinary as ever. Hermione took one look around and cast a quick "Aguamenti" over her hand and washed her face, then dried up with a tissue.

"What was that for?" Asked Harry.

"Do you want me to look like Cosette?"

"You don't look anything like Cosette." Said Harry in disbelief. They turned and found themselves directly in front of Number Four Privet Drive. The cool evening air brushed against their skin, Harry wore his jacket, and so did Hermione.

"This is it."

"Well, go on, I'll be right behind you." She encouraged him.

Harry knocked, Hermione lingering a few steps back. The door opened to uncle Vernon's massive belly.

"Good evening uncle Vernon." Said Harry placidly but politely.

"You!" He grunted before his eyes found Hermione, but before he could say anything, a hand was pulling him back gruffly.

"Dad move!" Roared Dudley as he replaced his father in the door frame. Dudley was unrecognisable. He was huge, as always, but now his size was due to muscles, not fat. His hair was combed and gelled back neatly, and his face brightened into a wide smile as he saw Harry.

"Harry!" He drew cross. "Thank you lord." He said looking at the sky before pulling Harry into a crushing hug.

"Dudley! What has happened to you?" Groaned Harry.

"I've been praying for months Harry," He said releasing him as aunt petunia appeared behind uncle Vernon's massive backside, her mouth shaping the word 'Oh' silently. "Please come inside," He told him, and dragged him in. "You too sister, any friend of Harry is my friend too." He told Hermione. "Dad move you're blocking the way!" He snapped at uncle Vernon rudely.

Harry looked at Hermione who was looking at the exchange with her mouth left open. "sister?" Harry mouthed, and Hermione shrugged. Dudley was never one to pray, or read for that matter.

Harry stepped inside, Hermione after him.

"Hello aunt petunia."

"Hello Potter." She said rigidly.

"Why so formal?" Harry said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

"We did not expect you, and who is your friend?"

"This is Hermione Granger, I've told you about her, she was from my school."

"Pleasure." She said tensely.

"And here I thought that we've seen the last of you boy." Said uncle Vernon as he closed the door behind them.

"Accept one another, then, just as Christ accepted you, in order to bring praise to God." Said Dudley with a meaningful look at uncle Vernon. Uncle Vernon rolled his eyes and moved to the other side, standing directly in front of Harry.

"Are you Christian now Dudley?" Asked Harry, half-amused.

"Evangelical, I found faith, he truly does love us in our darkest..." He kissed the cross around his neck.

"Congrats," Harry said not entirely sincere. "We won't be here long," He told aunt Petunia. "I wanted-well Hermione thought that you might want to know that lord Voldemort is dead."

The room stilled, aunt Petunia's expression was unreadable. Hermione moved slowly and stood by Harry. Uncle Vernon shifted uneasily while Dudley looked back and forth between his mother and Harry.

"That's the one, the one who killed your parents, right?" He asked, then looked at aunt Petunia. "Aunt Lily, mother?"

His eyes darted between Harry and aunt Petunia, waiting for an answer.

"Yes," said Hermione, seeing that neither Harry nor Petunia were answering him.

Dudley goggled stupidly for a second before speaking again. "This is the lord's doing, your sister is avenged mother, and even though the good book teaches us mercy and forgiveness, it also teaches us eye for an eye and tooth for teeth..."

Uncle Vernon moved his abundant mass of fat and flesh and put a gigantic hand around aunt Petunia's slender form. She stared at Harry with unblinking eyes, her face a cryptic mask of many emotions.

"Well... That's all... We'll be out of your hair then..." Harry turned towards the door.

"Is this time for good?" Aunt Petunia's voice came hoarse and restrained.

Harry paused. "Yes, he's gone."

"How did he die? I don't supposed he just offed himself did he? Your kind doesn't have anything like a conscience do they" Said uncle Vernon rudely.

"I killed him."

"Let us pray for his soul, he was a wretched man, but the lord has mercy reserved even for the foulest of us." Said Dudley, clasping his massive hands around the cross on his neck.

"Don't bother, he doesn't have a soul to pray for..."

"What do you mean?"

Harry sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "He broke his soul into 8 different pieces, and hid them in different vessels, to be immortal. That's how he could return a second time. But I've destroyed those objects, and in the end destroyed him. What went to the after life, was 1/9th of a whole soul, and don't you dare praying for Voldemort Dudley."

"How can someone do something so foul?" Said Dudley. "That isn't normal is it? Even in your world?"

"No its not, its the darkest and most repulsive magic that has been banned and forgotten for centuries before he learned about it." Said Hermione.

"What is your parents occupation girl?" Asked uncle Vernon.

"Father!" Snapped Dudley.

"Fine, I forgot, Miss?"

"Granger." Said Hermione bitterly.

"Granger huh? I know a fine dentist by that name, you're not related are you?"

"My parents are both dentists..."

"Was it Wendell Wilkins Granger?"

"That's my father..."

"Fascinating, what a tiny world, I had two root canals with him and never felt a thing, I was upset to hear they had left the country."

"You should both stay for dinner, let us break bread together, what do you say Harry?" Interrupted Dudley before uncle Vernon could cause more embarrassment.

"No we really shouldn't..." Said Harry, eyeing aunt Petunia who was still standing like a petrified ghost.

"He is really dead?" She said in disbelief.

"Yes, really dead."

"What took you so long?" She sobbed, finally cracking.

"Mother to acknowledge our feelings is to acknowledge our humanity." Dudley rent her from uncle Vernon's arm and pulled her into a hug. "I never saw aunt Lily, I would've liked to, but she can rest in peace now, knowing that she is avenged, can't she mother?"

Aunt Petunia sobbed quietly. Uncle Vernon glared at him as though he is to blame for his wife's tears.

Hermione shifted in her stance. "I might like this new Dudley." Harry muttered to her.

"She was such a sweet girl, kind and selfless," She sobbed. "Until that Potter came around!"

"Here we go..." Said Harry.

"Look what you've done boy! Misery follows you and anything you touch, that poor girl too, no wonder her parents left the country, of course being respectable doctors as they were, they had found it difficult to deal with her, abnormality."

"What did you say?" Hermione's eyes flared bright red, uncle Vernon stammered backwards in fright as Harry took a step closer towards him, before Dudley, let go of aunt Petunia and got in the way.

"Dear lord, there will be no need for that Harry, sister," He turned to Hermione. "Forgive my father, his tongue often works faster than the holy ghost can correct him."

"You dare speaking to me like that in my own house?" Roared uncle Vernon.

"Go watch your show dad, you've transgressed on our guests patience enough!" Shouted Dudley. He was bigger and more muscular than his dad, and perhaps to prevent further embarrassment, uncle Vernon cursed under his breath and walked away.

"Harry," Dudley began but was Interrupted by his mother.

"So you did what your father couldn't..."

"Sorry?"

"He couldn't protect her, I've hated him since I laid eyes on him, arrogant, full of himself as though he runs the world and she was so in love with him, blinded, yes, but I saw that he was all bark and no bite."

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Hermione tugged on his sleeve, and he remained silent.

"For 17 years, I looked at you and all I saw was the man that failed to protect my sister. He was a wizard, had to be powerful wasn't he? Then why was it that he couldn't do anything?"

"There is always a bigger fish..." Harry said bitterly.

"I could never like you, let alone show you any more affection, I couldn't bring myself to..."

"That's horrible..." Said Hermione in an undertone.

"Am I?" She replied, her eyes bulging out in their bony frame. "I kept him here, a spitting image of that man, a constant reminder of the sister I lost, and if it was up to him," She inclined her head in the direction of the TV room. "He'd have grown up in the orphanage."

"I'd have preferred that!"

"You would? Huh!" She laughed hysterically. "Do you have any idea how much rubbish I had to hear and tolerate because of you from my husband's family? How much humiliation I had to endure from the neighbours, the parents, and anyone else?"

"Was that my fault?" Harry nearly shouted.

"But at least you have fixed your father's mistake..." She continued as though uninterrupted, she seemed to be have a conversation with herself rather than talking to them. "It won't bring her back, but at least, he is gone... Did he suffer?"

"Yes, he suffers even now, without a whole soul he can't cross to the other side, he can't come back as a ghost either, he just lays in pain in limbo, forever..."

"Good, lets eat then, there is enough food for everyone." Said aunt Petunia in an abrupt return to her normal self. "Miss Granger, you are welcomed with us as well. Dudders lead them in won't you?"

"Of course mother." He beamed. "Come on Harry you know the way, sister you are staying too aren't you?"

"Call me Hermione."

"I'm Dudley," He extended his hand. "But of course you know that, he must've told you how terrible I was..."

"That's right," She shook his hand briefly.

"Dudley what on earth happened to you?" Said Harry.

"I got help Harry, real help, not the kind you find in a gym, the one from the lord."

"So what are you like, an alter boy now?" Harry asked as they followed Dudley into the dining room.

"Harry I want to do this properly, give me a few minutes, I'll explain everything. Please sit." He pulled the chair for Hermione who thanked him and sat. Dudley disappeared in the kitchen.

"Christian Dudley, who would've thought..." Said Harry in an undertone.

"You never told me he read the bible." She said in a hushed voice.

"I didn't think he can read."

"Your aunt, what was that? For a second she sounded like she'd thank you."

"Believe me, that was very emotional for my aunt."

"I don't think I like your uncle though..."

"We should start a club." Harry laughed, before calling to aunt Petunia out of habit. "Aunt Petunia do you need any help in the kitchen?" But food was already coming to the table on a big silver tray. Dudley carried it, on the tray were roasted chicken legs and breasts, beans and mashed potato's and six cans of coke.

"Vernon dinner!" Shouted aunt Petunia as she walked in from the kitchen.

Uncle Vernon lowered himself into the chair at the head of the table, claiming it by sheer gravity as much as habit. To his left, along the side, Aunt Petunia took her seat, posture rigid and precise. Opposite her sat Dudley, directly facing her across the table, his large frame filling the chair. On the remaining side, Hermione sat nearest Petunia, while Harry took the seat beside Dudley.

Aunt Petunia divided the food for everyone. First for Vernon, and then, to Harry's surprise, she turned to him.

"Harry, breasts yes?"

"Yes, please, and thank you." He took his plate from her. Wondering when was the last time she remembered that he hated legs.

"What about you, dear? Legs or breasts?" She asked Hermione.

"Oh I'm not picky." She said and accepted her dish.

Once everyone had a plate full of food before them, and were about to dig in, Dudley took Uncle Vernon and Harry's hands, Harry jolted before realizing what was happening, uncle Vernon just growled throatily.

"Let us pray." He said looking at everyone at the table. Uncle Vernon took Petunia's hand, and she took Hermione's, and Harry reached for hers over the table.

"Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven."

"FOR THE LOVE OF JESUS CAN WE DO THE SHORT VERSION!" Bellowed uncle Vernon.

"Vernon! Let him finish." Hissed aunt Petunia.

Dudley glared and continued.

"Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us, and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom and the power, and the glory, forever and ever. Amen."

They all repeated. "Amen."

"Well dig in." Said Dudley.

They all started with their food. The chicken was tender and well-seasoned, nothing like Mrs. Weasley's or even Kreacher's cooking, but good enough for aunt Petunia's sanitized hospital-cuisine.

"So Harry, I told you that I've been praying for months to see you again, but I didn't tell you why," Dudley began.

"I still have a hard time wrapping my head around your newfound faith."

"Dudders has been going to church regularly. He's been reading the scripture and doing good deeds." Said aunt Petunia.

"I've been trying to atone for my past Harry, I realized that I've been given a second chance, well actually it was reverend Johnson who helped me realize it. He's the priest in our Anglican parish. I told him about what happened, that night with those creatures,"

"You told a priest about dementors?"

"I didn't at first, but he seemed to know about magic, and your world, he didn't know dementors existed and was terrified by the news, but I told him that you saved me, and it nearly cost you your education."

"To be honest with you Dudley I would've cast a Patronos to save myself anyway, you were caught in the middle of it because those dementors were after me." Said Harry.

"As I keep saying, here, even he says it!" Grunted uncle Vernon.

"Be that as it may. If those things wandered in our world, I or someone else could've gotten hurt, but you stopped them."

Harry had half a mind to correct him on that note, and perhaps Hermione felt it too because she kicked him under the table.

"Those things were after my soul weren't they?"

"Yes, they can suck the soul of any person, its worst than death." Said Hermione.

"So I was given my soul back, but it wouldn't be any use to me if it was going to end up in hell."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I was horrible to you, and to many other people. I've been trying to do good, helping the elderly, feeding the hungry, stopping the bullies from hurting children, anything I can think of really..."

"Oh..."

"And about you, I have no excuses, I was a child who copied his parents, and my parents were horrible to you, I keep telling them that, I have hope that they can still be saved."

"I wouldn't bother to be honest, they seem to be alright as they are."

"As I've been saying!" Muttered uncle Vernon.

"The thing is Harry, that I would've liked to know the magical world, what kid wouldn't, but I lacked good guidance,"

"We kept you safe! Look at their world! Full of lunatics, even her-" He stopped himself before making another remark about Hermione's parents, whom he undoubtedly thought were decent people since they were doctors. "Even she would agree with us," He tried to salvage the situation. "Wouldn't you miss? You grew up in our world, didn't you?"

Hermione took her time to swallow her bite before responding. "The magical world can be chaotic, but it is also full of wonders, and really good people."

"There." Said uncle Vernon as though that settled it.

"What I mean to say Harry, is that I could've changed, I had years to see their mistakes and correct them, but I didn't, I have no excuse for it, that's why reverend told me to pray to the lord for a chance of apologizing to you. And this is it."

Both uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia shifted uneasily in their seats.

"Dudley..." Harry began.

"No Harry, I have to know that you forgive me, I have to know that at least you know that I am sorry, even if you can't find it in your heart to forgive me."

"We were kids Dudley, its all in the past now."

"The passed builds the future, reverend says. Will you at least try?"

"To forgive you?"

"Yes. Just tell me that at least."

Dudley's voice was full of plea. He seemed to be a whole new person. He spoke better, and seemed to be truly sorry. It wouldn't erase years of being bullied and taunted, but at least he was sorry, and he was trying to do better. It was a lot more that Harry could say about his aunt and uncle.

He took a glance over at Hermione, who nodded silently as though urging him to forgive his cousin.

"Water under the bridge." Harry said finally.

Dudley paused, searching his face for mockery. "You mean that?" Said Dudley, squinting like he had something in his eyes, which Harry knew was his thinking face.

"Yeah. I do." Harry said sincerely.

"Thank you." Dudley said in a restrained voice.

Aunt Petunia sobbed, "Look at our Dudders Vernon, isn't he just wonderful," she sniffed. "So humble, aren't we so blessed?"

Hermione gaped cartoonishly at her, but quickly recovered and took a large gulp of coke. Uncle Vernon made a throaty grunting sound that could translate to an agreement.

They ate quietly after that. For a while the room was filled with the gentle clicking of forks against plates, and the fizzing of coke as Dudley refilled his glass with aunt Petunia's can.

"So are you two together?" Dudley asked abruptly.

Hermione and aunt Petunia nearly choked in sync. Harry took a look at her, found her eyes and said "We are." Hermione beamed at him.

"That's wonderful, you should invite us for the wedding."

Harry who had chose that very moment to take a sip of coke, choked and coughed. "We're not quite there yet..." He said as Dudley slammed his massive hand on his back.

"You're parents would be there too sister- I mean Hermione, right?"

"Ummm..." Hermione began.

"You have told them haven't you?" Said aunt Petunia.

"No," She replied simply.

"She doesn't see a future with him, its obvious..." Muttered uncle Vernon, and got a dark glare from Petunia in return.

Hermione ignored him. "They don't know I exist." She said before taking her last bite, as though busying herself with food made it any less painful to confess.

"What? How can that be?" Said Dudley.

"I erased-" She began.

"Hermione..." Harry interrupted.

"Its OK Harry, I erased their memories before the war."

It was time for uncle Vernon to choke. Aunt Petunia's fork fell unto her plate with a loud clank, and Dudley froze half-way to the last chicken leg in the tray.

"You'd do that to your own parents..." Said uncle Vernon in disbelief.

"I did what was necessary, I don't expect you to understand!" She snapped. "But I didn't erase everything," She said in defence. "Just myself, in case death eaters went after them, or in case I died..." She turned her head and looked away from them, and hid the tears that had rushed to her eyes.

"Oh you poor child." Said aunt Petunia and in an uncharacteristic impulse, wrapped her arm around her.

Hermione didn't recoil, she let her hold her, until the tears subsided. She looked back at them, her eyes red from renewed tears. She squeezed aunt Petunia's hand affectionately before she let go.

"I can make it right, I'll just have to go to Australia. Harry's promised to take us there."

"You have?" Said uncle Vernon.

"Yeah. I have."

"Well you better keep your word boy," Uncle Vernon waved a fat finger in his face. "because what this poor girl has done was a noble deed, and she did it for you."

"Vernon dear!" Hissed aunt Petunia.

"No he's right aunt Petunia. I have some banking issues, once they are solved, we'll go there without delay."

"Do they go to church?" Asked Dudley.

"Will you stop with this church nonsense Dudley!" Roared uncle Vernon. "Cant you see she's upset?"

"Father, if you would let me finish, I know the clergy in Sydney, we have a forum, if they are church-goers I can ask about them for her..."

"They do, every Sunday." Hermione said quickly.

"Grangers yeah?" Said Dudley as he pulled his cellphone out. "I just have to make a call," He dialled a number. "They work without wires now, did you know Harry?"

"Ah, I can't say that I did."

Harry exchange looks with Hermione, she looked genuinely hopeful to hear something about her parents. Dudley stepped aside, but not far enough that they wouldn't hear.

"Yeah Granger, they are dentists. Wendell and," He covered the mouthpiece and turned to Hermione "What is your mother's name sister?"

"Monica, Wendell and Monica Granger."

"Yeah Wendell and Monica Granger... I was wondering if they go to your church, or if you know anything about them, its really urgent, I wouldn't bother you... Alright... Yeah... Yeah this is my number... Thank you pastor, bless you. Good Bye." He hung up stepped inside. "He said he'll ask around and call back in a few minutes."

"Thank you." Hermione smiled, and Dudley nodded.

Aunt Petunia had begun the surgical cleansing of the table. Uncle Vernon removed himself from the chair, and landed three feet away on a stool by the door and began to floss his teeth noisily. Hermione got up to help clean-up. Harry stood by Dudley waiting for the phone call.

The table was shining clean before the phone called. Hermione rushed to the dining room, holding a stack of clean dishes, and paused by the door frame, aunt Petunia a step behind her.

Dudley picked up. "Yeah... You found them... That's them... How are they? Great news... Could you SMS their address or number? ... I have one of their relatives here who is bursting to pay them a visit... What?"

He covered the mouthpiece again, "He says they just baptized a newborn..."

Hermione gasped, her heart sinking.

"A boy? What did they name him?"

Hermione's hands had begun to shake, evident by the rattling of the dishes she was holding.

"Julian... Julian Granger... Born this very February..." Dudley said, smiling widely at Hermione.

The plates fell out of Hermione's hands and shattered to a thousand pieces that flew everywhere. She gasped, clutching a hand over her mouth. For a moment there was no movement besides the spinning of a final half-dish. Even aunt Petunia didn't make a fuss about her precious Arcopal plates.

"I'm sorry," Said Hermione, drawing her wand, and before anyone could gasp or react to the sudden appearance of a wand, she waved it. "Reparo". The bits of the broken dishes all flew from every corner, sticking together to form whole plates again, good as new. Uncle Vernon hurried through the flying bits of plates to close the curtains. Hermione waved her wand again and they stacked neatly on the table before running to the back of the kitchen.

There was a pause where Harry followed Hermione with his eyes, aunt Petunia stared at the stack of unbroken dishes, and Dudley watched his father struggle to close the last five inches of the curtains. After a moment, he decided that it was a lost cause and returned to them with heavy steps.

"Go to her." Growled uncle Vernon, panting.

"And say what?" Said Harry, utterly bewildered.

"Figure it out!" He said as he pushed Harry towards the kitchen.

Aunt Petunia was examining the repaired plates, as if trying to determine if they are actually as good as they were. Harry walked passed her and found Hermione at the far corner of the kitchen. She had a tissue in her hand, and her eyes were puffy and red again.

Harry lingered a step away, unsure where to put his hands.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Congratulations," he said quietly.

Hermione let out a weak breath that almost became a laugh. "Thanks."

She wiped at her eyes, failing immediately as new tears gathered.

"I... I don't know what I'm supposed to feel," she admitted. "They moved on. They built a life. They even had another child... And they don't remember losing one..."

Harry swallowed, searching for something useful to say and finding nothing.

"I, um... I lack the skills to deal with this," he said awkwardly. "Best I can offer is a hug."

Her mouth trembled.

"I'll take that..."

She stepped forward and folded into him, gripping the front of his shirt as if anchoring herself. Harry hesitated only a second before wrapping his arms around her, holding her firmly, carefully, like something fragile he refused to let break again.

"I have a brother..." she whispered.

"And he has a wonderful sister," Harry said softly, his fingers brushing the back of her head.

"He doesn't even know I exist..."

"That part is temporary."

"I wasn't there when he was born..." Her grip tightened, voice breaking against his chest.

"I know. That's rough."

"I wonder if they'd even want me back... Or if I should disturb their life at all..."

"Hermione." He lifted her chin gently. "Of course they would. No parent is happier missing a child."

"He's right, you know," came Aunt Petunia's voice from behind them.

They separated slowly. Hermione wiped her face, embarrassed.

"I just can't help it..."

"You should be relieved," Petunia said, quieter than usual. "Your parents are alive, well, and your brother is healthy. You'll meet him soon enough, and he will simply know you as his sister. Nothing lost."

Hermione nodded faintly. "I suppose..."

"Come along," Petunia said briskly, already turning. "I'll teach you my secret herbal tea recipe."

She reached into a cabinet, pulling down jars with practised precision.

Hermione glanced back at Harry. He lifted his shoulders helplessly, as if to say this was entirely new territory.

"I said I'd teach her, Potter."

"Oh. Right."

"Go find something manly to do."

Hermione let out a small laugh, the first unbroken sound since the phone call. Harry could have sworn he caught the briefest hint of a smile on Petunia's face as she busied herself with the kettle.

---

An hour later, they stood at the doorway of Number Four Privet Drive.

"Do come back Harry, you have to visit regularly." Said Dudley brightly.

"I'll try." Harry said with a weak smile.

"Drag him here if he didn't." Dudley said to Hermione.

"I don't know if I can." She said with a chuckle.

"Well, good night," Said Harry. "Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia."

"I still don't like you," Said uncle Vernon abruptly. "But do right by this girl, and you can come by sometimes," He said, not looking at Harry. "just drop a damn note, will you? And not with one of those damn birds!"

"Alright, I'll do that." Said Harry, amused.

"If you need anything Harry, I mean anything, just let me know." Said Dudley.

"Thanks, I'll remember that."

"Well goodnight everyone, it was nice meeting you all." Said Hermione.

"Take care Harry, its late, and you have company." Said aunt Petunia not unkindly.

Harry nodded and finding Hermione's hand, walked away from Number Four Privet Drive.

They walked in silence for a few moments before Hermione spoke.

"They're a bit rough around the edges, but they seem to mean well."

"They have improved, Dudley has been scolding them for the past year, I'm sure of it."

"That wasn't so bad now was it? No need to burn anything." She said brightly.

"I suppose, but they only behaved themselves because you were there."

"Then I'll just have to be there again, the next time."

"Can you tolerate another episode of Christian Dudley?"

"I actually found it charming."

"Charming? Dudley?"

"He seemed like he was really trying to make a difference..."

"I suppose you liked how he kept calling you sister."

"I admit it was somewhat irritating at first, but I think it grew on me."

Harry rolled his eyes, but smiled all the same.

"So when to Australia?"

"After Gringotts?" Said Hermione.

"Just what I had in mind, do you know what you want to say to them? Your parents I mean, I don't suppose you want to creep up behind them and just change their memories back, do you?"

"No, I'll have to think about that part. For a moment, when I heard the news, I thought why the world doesn't allow me to breathe for a short while... Its always one thing after the other..."

"I know that feeling..."

She glanced sideways at him, a spark returning to her eyes.

"But there is no peace for the wicked, says the LORD."

"Oh not you too Hermione..." Harry moaned, she laughed.

They had barely reached the end of the street when the night changed.

Harry felt it first. Magic. Wrong magic. Thick and crawling against his skin. He stopped walking.

"Hermione..."

She sensed it a second later, her hand tightening around his. Three cracks split the silence behind them. Figures in dark robes appeared between the street lamps, masks pale against the dark.

Death Eaters.

"So the rumours were true," one of them said in a husky voice. "The saviour walks without guards."

Harry stepped forward slightly, placing himself between them and Hermione.

"Stay behind me."

"Oh no," another voice laughed. "We want the mudblood too."

Hermione's wand was already in her hand. Her eyes fired up instantly, turning her world red.

"Nice trick you got there mud-whore!" Said the third one, a woman.

"Protego!" She shouted.

The shield flared just as the first curses flew. Red light shattered against it, sparks raining onto the pavement.

The other one moved, but before he could cast anything, Harry fired.

"Sectumsempra!"

The spell hit him fully in the chest, he staggered, his wand falling uselessly to the ground as blood gushed from his chest and throat.

Green light flashed past Harry's shoulder, missing by inches.

They remained close to one another instinctively, years of battle memory guiding them. Hermione covered left, Harry right, forcing the attackers apart.

The one on the right raised his wand high.

"Incendio!"

A jet of fire erupted toward them.

Harry reacted without thinking.

"Protego Maxima!"

The shield met the flames, and dissolved it into powder. The attacker laughed and cast again.

"Incendio!"

Harry thought how stupid this guy has to be to cast the same thing that failed twice, he raised another shield, and it failed. The fire did not disperse. It twisted, and screamed. Harry's stomach dropped. It wasn't normal fire, it twisted mid-flight into a hawk and soared towards him with unnatural speed. Fiendfyre.

"Hermione MOVE!"

He shoved her sideways with all his strength.

She stumbled, and fell out of the way. Harry turned to dodge but realization came one heartbeat too late. The cursed flames struck his face. There was no heat at first. Only pressure.

Then agony. White, absolute, and devouring.

He screamed as living fire tore across him, eating flesh faster than pain could register. Half his vision vanished in light and smoke as the Fiendfyre recoiled upward, momentarily uncontrolled.

He fell to the ground hard, and hit the back of his head to the rough asphalt as the curse knawed at him. He couldnt breathe, it was as though each draw, pulled the fire into his lungs. In his pain and confusion he tried to raise his wand to cast something at the death eater who shot him, but his muscles felt rigid and uncooperative.

"HARRY!"

Something inside Hermione broke. The world narrowed to a single point. Sound dulled. Fear vanished. Thought became cold and precise. Her wand rose, almost on its own accord. There was only one thing to do.

The female Death Eater tried to laugh, but she could never finished.

"Avada Kedavra."

Green light struck her cleanly. She fell back like a ragdoll.

The second turned to run.

"Incarcerous!" Hermione shout after him.

He collapsed screaming. Hermione walked forward slowly, her eyes burning, her magic vibrating violently around her.

"What a nasty trick!" she said quietly, and pointed her wand directly at his throat. "Diffindo!"

Silence returned to Privet Drive.

The Fiendfyre guttered and died without its master. Hermione dropped to her knees beside Harry. The smell of burned flesh filled her nostrils, making her shake uncontrollably.

"Harry... Harry look at me..." She held his face with trembling hands. Half his face was burned raw, bone visible beneath ruined flesh, one eye barely open.

He tried to speak, but only a broken breath came out. Her hands shook as she pressed them against him.

"Stay with me," she whispered, voice trembling in terror. "You are not leaving me. Not now. Just breathe."

Hermione did not think. She forced her breathing steady, one shaking hand pressed against Harry's chest, feeling for movement. Alive. Barely. His breaths came wet and uneven, every inhale seemed a struggle.

The bodies.

Witnesses.

She raised her wand, voice sharp despite the tremor in it.

"Accio masks."

White masks slid across the pavement into her hand. She bound the bodies together and cast a quick invisibility charm over them. Her eyes darted down the street. Curtains were still closed. No screams yet. No lights turning on.

She leaned close to Harry.

"I'm taking you to St. Mungo's," she whispered. "Stay with me. Just stay."

His remaining eye shifted weakly toward her. He tried to nod but failed. She pressed her forehead briefly to his uninjured temple, grounding herself. This could not be happening, her nightmares could not have just become reality. She breathed, staying there just for a heartbeat longer, if only she could blink and wake up, if only she could run and let the darkness take her. No time for self-pity. She moved.

Her wand traced tight, controlled movements despite the blood on her hands. A silver otter burst forth, bright against the dark street.

"Find Lucius Malfoy," she commanded quickly. "Death Eater attack. Privet Drive. Three dead, bodies invisible, if you are truly on our side, it is time to prove it."

The Patronus vanished instantly.

She slid one arm behind Harry's shoulders, pulling him upright. He groaned, body spasming as pain caught up with him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

She turned on the spot.

The world folded violently.

They appeared in the crowded receiving hall of St. Mungo's with a thunderous apparition crack that echoed off tiled walls.

Several healers jumped.

Harry collapsed the moment they arrived, Hermione barely catching him before he hit the floor.

"HELP!" she shouted, voice breaking. "Fiendfyre exposure!"

Everything exploded into motion. Healers rushed forward, green robes flashing. A witch gasped outright at Harry's face.

"Merlin..."

"Clear space!" another barked. "Burn ward now!"

A stretcher materialized beneath him. Hands pulled him away from Hermione as diagnostic charms flashed gold and blue over his body.

She tried to follow. A healer blocked her gently but firmly.

"You cannot come past this point."

"I'm not leaving him!"

"You will if you want us to save him."

"You will be able to, right?" Her voice cracked.

"We will do everything we can."

They rushed Harry through swinging doors, healers shouting overlapping instructions.

"Containment charms!"

"Magical flame residue detected!"

"Stabilize airway!"

The doors slammed shut. Cold silence fell around her. Hermione stood there, hands blackened with soot and blood that was not hers, chest heaving. Only now did the shaking worsened. Her vision blurred, as though seeing the world from behind a tank, she still held the three masks in her left hand.

Across the hall, witches and wizards whispered.

The Boy Who Lived. Burned. Attacked again, and lived.

A healer approached cautiously.

"Miss... Granger, is it?"

She nodded numbly.

"We'll do everything we can. Please follow me, I'll sort you out."

Behind the doors, a distant scream echoed once through the ward before being abruptly silenced by magic.

Hermione closed her eyes, and let the healer stir her away.