Storytime with Rachel F Hundred

25th June 1995

Ron set aside the copy of the Daily Prophet on the picnic table and sighed at the headlines.

The Boy Who Lived to Save Us Again

Albus Dumbledore Dies in the Battle of Hogwarts

Harry was going to hate it. He was going to hate the adulation and the increased fame; the sycophants who wanted nothing but to say they were friends with The Harry Potter.

He considered the dream the dragon had given him of a Ron who had walked away from Harry at the beginning of the tournament – jealous and envious and stupid.

Ron blew out a breath.

He knew his flaws and he was working on them. He would never walk away from Harry.

He shook his head, swung around on the bench away from the house, and stared out at the Weasley back garden.

Home.

They’d come home after the battle, retreating into the Burrow and simply holding each other as a family; grateful to come through mostly uninjured and alive. But they’d been hurt.

Bill had wept on their mother’s shoulder for long minutes; crying out his pain and grief at the loss of his partner. Ron had felt so helpless watching him. He wanted to take away his brother’s pain; wanted to tell him that he was so grateful to Caroline for ensuring that his big brother had survived. He wished he could have been there; that he could have helped comfort Bill when it had happened but he’d been passed out in the Headmaster’s office. He sighed again and rubbed his forehead tiredly.

The four students in the spell had woken up after the battle. They had waited anxiously waiting for the all clear – pulling George free of the bookcase and tending to him while they did. Then the alarm had sounded and the dragon had told them there was a bomb. But almost as soon as the alarm sounded it was all over. Harry saving them all, Ron thought tiredly.

George had ushered them out as soon as the door had unlocked and Ron had run to find his friends and his father…

The dragon was still awake. It would need four Heads of Houses to put her to sleep again and who knew when that would be? Dumbledore’s death had thrown Hogwarts into turmoil although there was a brief note in the paper which announced Professor McGonagall had been appointed Headmistress. At least Sprout and Flitwick had come through unscathed but Snape was in some kind of coma and it wasn’t looking good by all accounts.

He shook his head.

He couldn’t see anyone returning to Hogwarts to close out the school year. The damage the invaders had wrought was extensive. The Quidditch pitch didn’t have an intact stand on it.

“Ron?” His mother sidled up to him and sat down on the bench next to him. She gave a huff at the sight of the papers before she nudged his shoulder with her own. “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Ron admitted gruffly. “I was thinking about Harry.” His face crumpled. “He was so…he was so injured.”

His Mum nodded slowly. He’d found out the night before that all the women who’d taken part in the ritual had seen events through Hermione’s eyes so he knew she knew just how bad Harry had been; how broken he’d looked as Sirius had held him as though he was the most precious thing in the world.

“He’s in the best place to get better and Sirius is with him.” She said reassuringly.

“I know,” tears prickled over Ron’s eyes, “I just…I just wish he was here.”

His Mum put an arm around him and he sank into her comforting embrace with just a smidgeon of shame as the tears leaked out and down his face.

“Harry will be back with us by the end of the week. He’ll be healed and healthy and we’ll all be there for him.” She said comfortingly.

“I need to talk to him.” Ron said. “I need to tell him…tell him about the dragon and…” he sighed, “what we had to agree so she’d help us.” He mumbled the last part, knowing his Mum wouldn’t like it.

“What?” Her voice was sharp. “What did you have to agree?” She sounded like she was ready to march down to the school and have it out with the dragon painting. He wouldn’t put it past his Mum to do it either.

Ron swiped at his nose; she huffed and handed him a handkerchief. He blew his nose noisily before answering. “We had to agree to be bound to the school. I mean, not that we have to be there all the time but we’ll have to live there eventually.”

His Mum was quiet for a long moment. She sighed heavily. “I guess that’s not so bad. Teaching’s a respectable profession.”

“I want to manage a Quidditch team!” Ron retorted before his brain caught up with his mouth and pointed out that he had sworn never to tell his mother his career ambitions. “And Harry would be my Seeker, you know?” He hastily added. His face fell. “Not that anyone will want to play where You-Know-Who died.”

His Mum hummed. “Maybe you can organise a game when the pitch is repaired and reclaim the space back.”

Ron nodded. That actually sounded like a good idea. “You don’t mind?” He asked. “About the Quidditch?”

“All I’ve ever wanted is for you all to grow up healthy and happy.” His Mum said firmly.

He’d dispute that since he remembered the colossal row she and Charlie had had when he’d told her about Romania, not to mention the blow-out over Bill and Egypt, but he figured silence was the better part of valour.

His Mum tousled his hair. “Besides, Quidditch Manager will be a good job for you before you end up teaching. It’ll allow you to travel and see something of the world before you end up back at the school.”

Ron was truthfully rendered speechless.

“Now,” bustled his mother getting up from the bench, “I’d best see to breakfast and check the twins haven’t decided to take George’s ear off in the middle of the night so they match again.”

It was a possibility; Ron had overheard them talking about it before he’d fallen into his own bed.

“Do I have time to write to Hermione and Neville?” Ron asked, getting up himself to follow her inside.

“If you’re quick. It’s just bacon butties this morning.” His Mum agreed, a hint of a question in her tone.

Ron shrugged. “Harry will go mental if I don’t check on Hermione and Neville said something about the alliance getting together to go over what happened and make sure everyone’s taken care of.”

His Mum caught his arm as they reached the back door and Ron thought he saw the shadow of someone retreating back into the house. “Ron,” she held his gaze forcefully, “we’re very, very proud of you.”

Ron felt his face go bright red but he accepted the words with a nod.

His Mum smiled at him and pushed him gently in the direction of the stairs. “Give my best to Hermione and let Neville know he’s always welcome here.”

Ron nodded again and took off for the stairs. He had letters to write and things to care of to make it easier for Harry when he returned. And, Ron thought with anticipation, a Quidditch match to organise.

o-O-o

Time Bubble – 30th June 1995

Harry looked out on the beautiful valley through the window without truly seeing it. He was pressed up against the window pane, the glass was cold against his skin and it helped anchor him into reality. He’d been in a healing coma for three days, bedridden for two more, and the healers had only just allowed him to get up. He still felt exhausted; sore.

He should have died.

He had been at ground zero when Crouch exploded. He had felt the heat and the force; had felt the pain rip through him. He was sure he had died.

There had been a moment – white all around him and the sense of his Mum and Dad, of Death – and then he had been on the ground and Sirius had been there…

“Harry.”

As though he had conjured him into being with the thought of him, Sirius was suddenly there. He hadn’t left him until that morning…hadn’t left him…

Guilt suffused him again. He hadn’t known about the tether; hadn’t realised what he’d done. He couldn’t regret it. It had kept Sirius alive; kept him alive. He wouldn’t ever lose Sirius. So, he couldn’t regret it but he had done it unknowingly, and without Sirius’s consent – and for that he was apologetic (and thank Merlin Death didn’t see it as some kind of usurping and forced him into promising his first born son or last remaining descendent as a champion).

“Cold?” Sirius asked softly.

Harry shrugged.

Noshi had somehow managed to finagle Sirius away a couple of hours before – probably to a mind healer since the instance he’d been left alone, Healer Fay had arrived in Harry’s room. The painting he’d started was unfinished on the easel. He’d lost interest only a few minutes after he’d started and he really, really wasn’t interested in talking.

He hadn’t talked since he’d woken up.

Sirius wrapped a thin cotton robe around Harry’s shoulders and helped Harry manoeuvre his arms into it as though he was a small child. “There.” He rubbed Harry’s upper arms, warming them. “Why don’t you come and sit over by the fireplace and I’ll start a fire.”

Harry let Sirius help him off the window seat. He still felt shaky, like a new-born colt trying to find his legs. He leaned heavily on his father until he was safely ensconced on the comfy sofa. Dobby popped in – he’d arrived with an insistent Hedwig within hours of Sirius and Harry’s arrival apparently. Harry was comforted by their familiar presence. Sirius wrapped the blanket Dobby provided around Harry’s pyjama-clad legs while the elf got a blaze going.

Sirius sat down next to him. He was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt; leather flip-flops on his feet. His hair was down. He looked as tired as Harry felt. Guilt swamped him again. He knew Sirius was worried about him.

“Healer Fay said you didn’t want to talk.” Sirius said quietly, brushing a strand of hair away from Harry’s face.

Harry shook his head. He curled into Sirius and Sirius wrapped an arm around him tightly. There were tears pressing up against the back of Harry’s eyes, clogging up his throat, and he couldn’t…he couldn’t…

He’d killed Voldemort.

He’d taken a life. And yes, it had been fated and necessary and it had even been weirdly in a way self-defence, but at the end of the day he’d still killed Tom Marvolo Riddle.

He felt monstrous.

He felt relieved.

Relieved it was all over. Relieved that because Tom was dead, Harry could live. Finally. He could live.

Unlike so many others.

Benjamin Nott; a Death Eater who had given up his life to give his son a better future.

Caro; bright beautiful Caro who was smart and funny and who had helped him train; who had helped him defeat Voldemort.

Cedric; his friend who had helped him through the tournament, who knew its trials and challenges in a way only the four of them who had faced Voldemort’s tasks could know. They’d been looking forward to playing Quidditch against each other; looking forward to being friends without the weight of the tournament and politics. Harry was going to miss him.

Dumbledore.

God.

Dumbledore.

He was responsible for the Headmaster’s death.

Hot tears ran down his face.

Sirius held Harry as he wept out his grief and Harry pressed tightly into the cocoon of Sirius’s embrace; listened to the reassuring beat of Sirius’s heart underneath his ear, the comfort of his breathing.

The Headmaster had given up his life so Harry could live; so Sirius could live. And Harry couldn’t, couldn’t feel any regret for finding a third way; for keeping his promise to Regulus; for standing up for Sirius. But he felt guilty because his choice had led to a death; because when all was said and done, he wouldn’t change it; he would always choose Sirius alive and well.

And there was a true sense of loss; mourning for a wizard who had been something of a mentor, a grandfatherly figure who Harry could remember with affection for all Dumbledore’s mistakes and flaws.

He also knew he should be bothered about what was happening back in England; the guilty tug of responsibility nagged at him.

There was so much he didn’t know about what had happened. He had no idea if Snape had lived or died; had no idea if Hogwarts was still open; how everyone was dealing with the aftermath.

He knew the alliance needed them. They had taken losses and hurts. There would be visible and invisible scars for those who had stood beside him.

Theo who had lost a father.

Bill who had lost a partner.

Neville.

His godbrother would need a friend in the aftermath of learning about Hannah. And they would need to deal with the problem of Hannah – and Merlin Harry couldn’t quite believe that it had been Hannah who had betrayed them…

He knew the House of Black needed them.

Lucius lived. There was enough of a sense of him still in the family magic to know that. But he could sense the turmoil in the House; the concern they had for him and for Sirius. He couldn’t even think about Hermione…

The storm of weeping passed and Harry felt his eyes grow heavy; his head ached dully. Lethargy descended like a smothering blanket.

Sirius stroked a hand through his hair and Harry leaned into the touch.

“Listen to me, Pronglet.” Sirius whispered softly. “You’ve been through a lot – more than anyone should have to go through and you…you were brave and courageous and merciful. I’m so very, very proud of you, Harry.”

Harry let the rush of warmth at Sirius’s words steal over him.

“You don’t worry about anything. You’ll talk when you’re ready and we’ll deal with the rest when you’re ready. Just…just focus on healing. That’s all you need to do right now; heal.” Sirius murmured.

Harry’s hands clutched at Sirius’s t-shirt, holding onto him.

“I’m not going anywhere, Pronglet.” Sirius promised roughly. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

It comforted Harry; eased the worry and fear that lurked within him that he hadn’t been quick enough, strong enough; that Sirius had died and it was all a dream.

He listened to Sirius’s heartbeat and drifted to sleep.

o-O-o

26th June 1995

Remus watched as Andy greeted Augusta with a warm hug as she exited the floo and wondered at what had happened between the women who had taken part in the ritual. They all seemed more connected. Andy and Dora had been inseparable since they’d arrived at the Black Estate in the hours after the battle.

The past couple of days had been chaos.

Moody had taken control at Hogwarts until Minerva had arrived back at the school. She had been heartbroken at the death of Albus and dismayed at the news about Snape but had rallied and accepted the wards. She was overseeing the repairs to the school assisted by Filius and Pomona, and a particularly talkative dragon painting in her new office.

The students and their families had been sent home from the Black Estate. Some needed to deal with the heartbreak of losses and changed circumstances; some to simply absorb the reality of what had happened.

Remus had retreated that first night to the Black Estate; to his wife. He and Dora had slept together tightly holding onto each other, their hands resting over the precious gift of their unborn child.

He’d spent much of the previous day with his pack. They’d lost two members to vampires and his beta, Patrick, had lost a leg. He’d spent time with those grieving; with Patrick who was surprisingly upbeat and being looked after by an attentive Sian.

And the whole time he’d worried about Sirius and Harry.

It had only been after dinner that he’d had a chance to look at the mail and seen the notice of Nott’s surrender and remembered the way Nott had died. Which dragged his mind back to the present and the reason why they were there; to see Theo who had gone home with the Longbottoms and Blaise Zabini after the battle and the news of his father’s death.

“Thank you for welcoming us, Augusta.” Andy said. “We only got the official notice last night that Lord Nott had surrendered to the House and with Sirius and Harry…” her voice caught and she had to take a breath, “well, things are at sixes and sevens.”

“It’s only to be expected.” Augusta said diplomatically. Her eyes were clear if tired as they met Remus’s. “Have you heard anything from Sirius?”

“Not from Sirius but Helen Jordan was able to send a message to say that they had arrived safely and they were healing. Harry’s injuries are very serious though and she was certain that they’d probably spend a fair amount of time at the clinic before returning.” Remus confirmed.

He expected that Sirius and Harry would only return when Harry was well enough to deal with the aftermath in England. It was comforting to know that they could take the time they needed but also that Remus and the others only had to survive a week without them thanks to the magic of the time bubble. Although, Remus mused dryly, the absence of them was already all too noticeable.

“Any news on Lucius? Narcissa’s elf informed me they were still at Saint Mungo’s when I enquired this morning.” Augusta asked as she led them through the house.

“They saved his leg but the nerve damage was extensive.” Andy replied. “He’ll need a cane for actual use rather than vanity in the future.” She paused. “How is Theodore?”

Augusta’s eyes dimmed with sadness. “He’s been quiet since he heard the news. I was granted temporary custody yesterday by the Wizarding Orphan Office until the will reading and the matter of custody could be established, but of course the notice of surrender changes things.”

She led them through the house to the conservatory.

The three boys were gathered around a table; Neville and Blaise were playing cards whereas Theo was reading. All three looked wan and pale. Remus made a mental note to talk to Augusta about mind healing before they left.

Theo set his book aside and stood immediately as soon as he realised who had entered. “Madame Tonks. Mister Lupin.”

Neville scrambled to greet them properly and the next few moments were a haze of greetings.

Augusta cleared her throat. “Neville, Blaise; why don’t you take your card game to the library while our guests speak to Theodore.”

“That’s alright, Madame Longbottom.” Theo said quickly. “They can stay.”

Augusta nodded regally. “Tea then.”

They all sat at the table as a house elf popped in with a tea-tray.

“Our apologies, Theodore.” Andy began once the tea was poured and Remus had updated the boys on Harry and Sirius after a quiet enquiry from Neville. “We only received official word last night that the House of Nott had surrendered to our House.”

Theo inclined his head. “I had wondered if Father hadn’t been able to make the declaration before Voldemort killed him.”

Remus frowned. “Your father planned this?”

“He…” Theo paused, collecting himself and Remus watched as the teenager visibly wrestled back his grief. “We’d talked about it at Easter and in letters. Father didn’t want to even pretend to be on Riddle’s side anymore and he knew Riddle wouldn’t just allow him to leave. He expected to die and…we have no close family left.” He pressed his lips together as his eyes shone briefly with tears. “He wanted to make sure I would have a guardian…he admired Lord Black a great deal and the way he’d dealt with the Wenlocks.”

“Well, your situation is a bit different.” Andy said and glanced over at Remus silently handing him the baton.

“Magic recognised the motivation in your father’s action. The House surrendered but it is magically in the care of the House of Black until you come of age. I believe, and Gringotts agree with me, that you’ll be able to claim your Head of House ring once you’ve completed your service to the House of Potter.” Remus explained.

Theo breathed in sharply. He absently touched the Heir ring he wore. “Father had some old diaries from his grandfather. He theorised a voluntary surrender – that the intent would make a difference. Wenlock acted against the interests of the family magic but my father acted in my protection and the wider wizarding world’s. We were hopeful but it’s good to know it worked.”

“Which brings us onto the matter of custody.” Andy said briskly. “The WOO acknowledged that the surrender means you are automatically a ward of the House of Black. In Sirius’s absence, Simeon and I spoke about your circumstances this morning. We can wait until Sirius is back, of course, but you’re a young man and we’d like to take your wishes into consideration.”

“My Father and I discussed it.” Theo confirmed, reaching for his cup. He took a small sip of tea and set the crockery aside again. “My Father ideally wanted Lord Black to raise me but…” he grimaced, “he knew Lord Black’s priority is Potter – Harry, and he knew that I would never want to…impose on that relationship.” He gestured vaguely, stopping them all from speaking. “Look, I’m sure if I insisted on it, Black would take me in and Potter would welcome me, and they’d both do their best to make me a part of their family. How could they not? They’re honourable and good people.”

“But?” prompted Remus gently when the pause went on slightly too long for comfort.

“But they shouldn’t have to.” Theo said bluntly. “And Harry deserves better than having to share his father with someone just when he needs him the most. I won’t be the one who forces him to do that. I want to build a good relationship with Harry for the future and this…this could harm that.”

“Then you have another solution.” Andy said before anyone else could comment.

“Yes,” Theo said taking a breath and meeting Andy’s eyes across the table, “I would be honoured if you would undertake my ward-ship on behalf of the House of Black, Madame Tonks.”

“I would be honoured to have you as my ward, Theodore.” Andy said fiercely.

A brief look of relief flitted across Theo’s face.

It was a good solution, Remus mused.

He couldn’t deny that Theo had hit on Remus’s own concerns; Harry needed Sirius’s whole attention, deserved it after all he’d gone through at the Dursleys and with the events of the last year. And Sirius instinctively knew that. He’d made Harry his whole world and Harry thrived with Sirius’s love. Perhaps when Harry was older, he’d feel more comfortable sharing Sirius. Remus hoped so because Sirius deserved to find love and have more in his life than simply Harry, who would grow up and live his own life in time.

Just like Dora was a grown woman, married and about to have a child of her own. She wouldn’t view Theo’s presence in her family as usurping her own position. In fact, Remus had an idea Dora would love the addition of a pseudo little brother to tease – moreso than Draco who was still adjusting to the imminent arrival of his unborn sibling and who would resent the presence of another boy in the Malfoy household.

Andy and Ted were the best option for Theo. Sirius and Harry would also be very much appreciative about Theo’s thoughtfulness in his choice, so it was one which served the young Nott well.

It was an elegant and Slytherin solution.

“Thank you, Theo.” Remus said softly.

Theo inclined his head. “Will I…the will and…” he shot a quick look towards Augusta, “Madame Longbottom and I were due to go to Gringotts today and see about the…the funeral.”

Remus nodded. “I can take care of the logistics as steward.”

Another fleeting look of relief crossed Theo’s face.

“I suggest we go to Gringotts now.” Andy said. “We can get the access to your house sorted out. Ted and I can always move in with you…”

“No.” Theo shook his head. “I’d prefer to…I’d like to go home with you.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” Andy said firmly.

Augusta rose from the table. “Let me show you to Theo’s room; we can pack up the few things he has here.”

Remus watched quietly as Theo left the room, sandwiched between the two formidable women.

“Remus,” Neville sat forward with intent eyes, “I was wondering if you’d heard anything from the Abbotts?”

Remus repressed the urge to sigh and nodded. “Hannah was admitted to the care of Saint Mungo’s after the battle. It’s been established that she was subjected to potions and compulsion charms to make her compliant and receptive to Crouch but the extent of that is not known. She was thoroughly brainwashed by him either way.”

It wasn’t the worst of it though and Remus would rather have cut his own throat than tell Neville the rest; that Crouch and Hannah had been physically intimate and there was a possibility of a child. Hannah had invoked the last Heir protocols on her committal to the hospital. Her parents were forbidden from interfering if there was a child.

“So it was all a lie.” Neville said despondent.

“She was sweet on you earlier in the Summer, I’d swear on it.” Blaise countered, patting Neville on the shoulder. “Just…”

“Crouch got his hooks into her.” Neville sighed heavily and looked up at Remus again. “Do they…please can you convey that if they need anything at all, the Abbotts only have to ask?”

“I will do.” Remus promised.

“How’s Sue?” asked Blaise.

“Amelia said she was upset but coming to terms with everything with the help of her family.” Remus said.

“Sue said she was going to need a tonne of mind healing.” Neville noted. He rubbed his forehead. “I feel like I could do with some myself.”

Remus nodded slowly. Probably everyone who had been involved with the battle required some – including himself. His own confrontation with Peter had left him confused and bewildered the more he thought about it. And then seeing Harry… “We could all do with some.”

“All do with some what?” Augusta asked as she rejoined them.

“Mind healing.” Remus said. “The battle was traumatic for everyone involved.”

Augusta glanced at the two boys at the table. “Your thoughts, Neville?”

“I think it would be a good idea, Gran.” Neville admitted without prevarication. “Harry speaks well of Healer Allen.”

“Then I will owl him to make an appointment for you and for Blaise.”

Blaise looked startled. “I, uh, I don’t think my mother will…”

“Nonsense.” Augusta cut in briskly. “After all, your mother was clear in her letter yesterday that until her return from the Continent she is content to leave all matters of your care in, what did she say? Ah, yes; my capable hands.” She smiled sharply. “I believe this falls under my jurisdiction at the present moment.”

Blaise snapped his open mouth closed and smiled brightly.

Neville beamed proudly at his grandmother.

Augusta nodded. “Why don’t you boys head up and change your clothes? We’ll go to Gringotts with Theodore and show him some support.”

Neville and Blaise both jumped to follow her order.

Augusta sighed, and with their departure her demeanour changed. She looked tired and drawn. “They’re good boys.” She frowned. “I was thinking of petitioning Nora Zabini to allow Blaise to remain here this Summer.”

“I think that would be a good idea.” Remus said. Neville would appreciate his friend’s company and Blaise would benefit from actual parental care.

Augusta nodded slowly. “I know Harry was injured and I know they need the time away but I wish Sirius and Harry could be with us.”

Remus sighed. “Me too, Augusta, me too.”

o-O-o

Time Bubble – 2nd July 1995

Harry knew he was dreaming.

It was King’s Cross but it wasn’t. Just an empty station; the platform of nine and three-quarters completely deserted. There was no Hogwarts Express.

There was a small room off to the side; a waiting room filled with benches and Harry entered it a touch self-consciously. He sat down on the bench and waited.

He wasn’t surprised when a moment later Dumbledore sat down. The former Headmaster looked well; venerable and old still, but he looked at peace.

“Hello, Harry.” Dumbledore’s blue eyes twinkled at him. “You wanted to speak with me?”

Had he wanted to speak to Dumbledore? He’d had a stray thought before he’d gone to sleep…

Harry nodded sharply but didn’t speak. He had yet to talk out loud again and it didn’t feel right to talk to Dumbledore – even if the whole thing was in his head.

Dumbledore’s twinkle dimmed. “You need not feel guilty about my passing, Harry. My heart sustained a tear in the battle. Poppy might have been able to heal the worst of the damage but my time was coming to an end. Minerva will tell you when you are back in England.”

Harry felt relieved at the news.

“It is a difficult thing, Harry, to defeat a Dark Lord.” Dumbledore said. “I did not have to kill Gellert. He…he surrendered to me once I held his wand. I like to believe that there was enough fondness for me from our youthful love affair that he refrained from forcing my hand. Or perhaps he simply did not wish to die.”

Harry thought the latter was more likely and was glad he had decided not to speak. He wasn’t sure he would have been able to comfort the Headmaster.

“There is nothing I can say which will make killing Tom better. And more, the aftermath of the battle…” Dumbledore sighed deeply. “War is a terrible thing.” He shook his head. “I lost friends; loved ones. People were hurt; injured by more than spells. It took…it took a long time to recover and through it all I suddenly had a world looking to me for guidance and counsel. It was…overwhelming.” He smiled sadly at Harry. “You must take as much time as you need, my dear boy. The world will wait.”

Harry watched as Dumbledore settled into a more comfortable position on the bench and Harry settled in beside him.

He woke with a start.

His eyes adjusted to the semi-dark. It wasn’t even daylight.

Hedwig hooted from her perch. There was a soft whine of enquiry from the foot of the bed and Harry gestured for Padfoot to stand down. He’d woken his father up every night with nightmares but this was different.

He closed his eyes again.

Padfoot lay his head against Harry’s foot; a warm solid presence.

Why King’s Cross, mused Harry sleepily. It seemed like a strange location for his mind to choose to meet with Dumbledore.

But there was a waiting room and maybe that was the point. His mind hadn’t chosen the location because it associated it with Hogwarts. It chose it because Harry was waiting.

And maybe waiting wasn’t so bad.

o-O-o

27th June 1995

Hermione stared out at the road beyond the front garden. It was raining. The type of weather that people joked about when they talked about Britain; grey, wet, cold. Cars drove by, their muted growl almost inaudible behind the double-glazing.

She touched the necklace she wore, twisting the leather around her finger before letting go without even thinking about it. She had been surprised to find it intact; surprised to be handed it by her mother after the battle was over and she’d returned home, throwing herself into her mother’s arms and…

Harry had almost died.

He was seriously injured and, apart from a couple of messages Remus had managed to receive from the clinic, she had no way of knowing how he was. She was beginning to understand the frustration Harry had shown about not knowing about Sirius’s condition at Yule much, much better.

She missed Harry.

She hoped he was alright.

There was so much he had to deal with.

“Hermione?” Her mother’s voice startled her and she twisted round from her place at the window to look at her.

Her mother had taken a week off work; her father covering her patients where they couldn’t reschedule. Hermione couldn’t remember the last time her mother had specifically taken time off to look after her. Not that her parents didn’t love her – they did – and they always took holiday during Hermione’s own school breaks to spend time with her and for a family vacation. But…but she remembered having flu in her final year at primary and her mother had still gone to work, leaving Hermione in the care of her usual babysitter, Mrs McGaskill. Hermione wondered whether the ambient magic of the ritual had affected her mother despite her being safe in the kitchen with the elves rather than in the ritual circle.

“Healer Allen is here.”

The Healer.

Right.

Andy had mentioned that she had arranged a session with a mind healer for everyone in the House of Black.

It made sense.

Hermione squirmed inwardly at the inner surge of resentment because logically she knew it made sense for her to talk to a mind healer – and God knew she would be the first one arguing that everyone else she cared about needed to talk to one – especially if they’d gone through half of what she had experienced since she’d started at Hogwarts, never mind the battle she’d just gone through.

She sighed and got up to follow her mother into the small study her parents had on the ground floor.

She’d met Healer Allen before – Harry had introduced them. She shook his hand briefly before taking the seat opposite him.

Her mother cleared her throat. “Would you like me to stay, Hermione, or…”

“I’ll be fine.” Hermione said firmly, despite the nerves rioting in her belly.

Her mother nodded. “I’ll be in the kitchen.” She departed but didn’t shut the door behind her and Hermione realised it was part of her mother’s protection – she would be able to hear immediately if Hermione shouted.

“Your mother cares for you a great deal.” Healer Allen said, his brown eyes warm and friendly.

“Yes,” Hermione nodded, “she’s been great about everything.” And she had – in a way that Hermione would never have believed the year before. Being sponsored by the House of Black and her mother’s friendship with Andy and others had gone a long way to enabling her mother to understand.

“Where would you like to start?” asked the healer.

“I don’t know.” Hermione admitted, adjusting her position a touch to get more comfortable. “Everything still seems unreal.”

Healer Allen nodded. “What’s your biggest concern right now…”

“Harry.” Hermione talked over him and blushed. “Sorry. It’s just…he went through so much.”

“And what about you?” Allen stated pointedly.

Hermione shrugged, her fingers playing with the necklace. “It’s not really…I mean, compared to Harry…”

Allen smiled at her gently as she stuttered to a halt. “Do you believe that because Harry went through a traumatic experience that it negates any other traumatic experiences suffered by the other people who took part in the battle?”

“No,” Hermione immediately replied, “of course not! I just…” she sighed and tried to gather her thoughts into a coherent sentence. “I know it’s not a competition and that his experience doesn’t mean that I didn’t go through something…terrifying, but Harry…he’s had this madman after him, and he’s had to cope with knowing he had to kill him to get away from him and that…it hurt him a lot.”

“You said you found your experience terrifying.” Allen stated.

“I didn’t really expect to end up right beside Harry in the middle of the battle.” Hermione admitted a frisson of guilt curling in her belly. “I thought…it was safe where we did the ritual. It’s under Fidelius and it’s protected by a lot of wards and it was safe. I was supposed to be safe.”

She paused, hearing the tremor in her voice and took a breath.

“The other times Harry’s faced him, it’s always just been him really. I mean, in first year, we had the traps but they were…just obstacles. It was scary going after the thief but I didn’t ever actually confront anyone.” She smoothed her hands down her denim-clad legs and bit her lip. “And I was scared about the basilisk but then I got petrified so I didn’t really know what Harry faced down in the Chamber of Secrets.”

She tucked a hair behind her ear. “Last year…last year was different. I mean, both Ron and I were both with Harry when he confronted Sirius but we won’t alone for long and then Remus was there and when they confronted Pettigrew it made so much sense and…it was scary but I knew we were safe? Even when we…when we helped Sirius later, I was…it was scary but I needed to focus and I realised that everything worked out; that it was meant to happen the way that it did and I had Harry with me all the time and that…it made me feel safe.”

She sighed and slumped back in her chair. “And that makes me sound as bad as Ginny when she was in fangirl mode and that’s not…Harry just makes me feel safe. Not because he’s this hero just because he’s Harry.”

And that was why everything seemed so wrong because Harry wasn’t there.

“So when I ended up on the battlefield…I was right beside Harry and I was glad because even if I was supposed to be safe somewhere else, I was with Harry and I could help him.” Hermione frowned. “But it doesn’t mean it wasn’t terrifying confronting Voldemort. I was scared, really scared. But, I knew Harry was there and I was focused on doing the spell to change out Voldemort’s blood so it helped me.”

“How do you feel about being instrumental in Voldemort’s defeat?”

The question took her by surprise and she had to think about it for a long moment.

“I guess I don’t think about it like that.” Hermione said. “I might have spoken the words on the battlefield but that was because Morgana sent me there; the spell was powered by the coven and Morgana herself.” She tilted her head. “It was just…necessary, and I was the…the one who was there.”

“What do you think made Morgana choose you?” Allen asked.

Hermione wet her lips. “Everyone in the coven loves him but I think…she came the first time when we were linked with blood in the blessing ceremony and maybe, maybe she remembered that connection.” Or saw just how much Hermione loved him.

“But it’s true to say that she used the necklace to send you to the battlefield and invoke the blessing.” Allen pointed out, gesturing at her neck. “A necklace which is once was a gift from you to him to protect him; something he holds as precious.”

Hermione blushed again. “You think she chose me because I gave Harry the necklace originally?”

“Maybe she chose not the person who loves Harry but the person who Harry loves.” Allen suggested gently.

Hermione felt her cheeks heat again with another blush. She really wished the healer’s theory was correct but she didn’t want to jump to conclusions.

“How did you feel when Harry reacted to the threat of the magical bomb?” Allen asked softly, changing the subject and surprising her into looking at him again.

“Just…it was just so like him to save everyone.” Hermione shook her head, her hair bouncing. “I…I wanted to be angry at him but I was just terrified he was dead and then…” she fingered her necklace again, “seeing Merlin and Death, that whole conversation was…it was…it was really good of the Headmaster to volunteer and I was so relieved…”

“It didn’t bother you seeing Merlin and Death?” asked Allen, a curious glint in his eyes.

“Not really.” Hermione said. “I mean, we’d just called the spirit of Morgana Le Fey to help us protect Harry and Harry explained about the family magic and the Peverells so it…it seemed right?” She bit her lip. “I was more concerned about Harry. He was so hurt.”

“You and Harry are close.” Allen commented.

“He’s my best friend.” Hermione said without thinking about it.

“I understand he’s also your boyfriend.” Allen prodded.

Hermione blushed. “Yes, but we’ll always be best friends first.”

“That’s commendable.” Allen said with a smile. “You don’t think your relationship with Harry will last?”

Hermione brushed back her hair and sighed. “Statistics prove that people rarely stay with their first boyfriend or girlfriend.”

Allen hummed. “But the statistics aren’t about you and Harry.”

Which was infuriatingly true.

Hermione dropped her hand away from her necklace as she realised she was touching it again. “I just…I just want to be realistic.”

“Because then it won’t hurt so much if it ends.” Allen completed the thought that was in her head.

Hermione nodded, looking down a little shamefaced. “It’s…I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up. Harry was my first friend and if I lost him…”

But she almost had.

He’d fought a madmen for them; protected them from a magical bomb.

Her eyes filled with tears and suddenly she was crying.

Her mother was suddenly just there. Hermione felt her mother wrap her arms around her and draw her into an embrace and she sank into the comfort.

It seemed like forever before she stopped crying. Her mother shifted to sit on the arm of the chair. Healer Allen hadn’t moved but his eyes held a wealth of empathetic understanding.

“I really wish Harry was here.” Hermione whispered.

Allen nodded. “If he was here what would he say?”

“He’d tell me I was brilliant and he’d hug me and everything would feel right again.” Hermione swiped at her face again and blew out a breath.

“You’re not alone in that wish.” Allen commented. “I believe the House of Black and its allies are feeling the absence of Lord Potter very keenly.”

“Has there been any further news?” asked her mother before Hermione could.

“Not yet today.” Allen held up his hand. “Miss Granger, I’d like to propose that you and your family move into the Black estate for the duration of the rest of the week, along with some of your closest allies. While I believe your immediate family,” he acknowledged her mother with a nod, “is a wonderful support, I think you and others would benefit from being close and sharing your worry.”

Hermione looked up at her mother who looked at the healer as though assessing his sincerity.

Her mother sighed. “I’ll agree on the proviso I go too.”

“Of course.” Allen stood up. “I’ll let Steward Lupin know your decision. I’m sure he’ll be in touch shortly.”

Hermione thanked the healer as he took his leave and headed upstairs to pack while her mother showed him out. It was a relief to know she was going to be staying with Remus and the others. It was the only way she could be certain to find out exactly how Harry was as soon as everyone else did.

Her mother knocked on her doorframe. “You alright packing?”

Hermione nodded. Before she could change her mind she crossed the room and hugged her mother. “Thank you.”

Her mother hugged her tightly. “You know Harry’s not the only one who thinks you’re brilliant.”

Hermione gave a laugh and continued soaking up the maternal comfort.

o-O-o

Time Bubble – 8th July 1995

Sirius was talking.

Harry shifted in the bed and frowned at the murmur of voices coming through the open bedroom door. They’d been given their old cabin back once Harry’s physical injuries had healed enough for him not to need the immediate care of the clinic. He had physio, check-ups and mind healing sessions scheduled but they didn’t mean he and Sirius couldn’t live in their own space.

It was almost nostalgic coming back to the cabin. It was familiar and Harry automatically associated it with Sirius. He snuggled further into the bed and let himself drift.

“…and I’m impressed at your own commitment to your health.”

It was Noshi talking with Sirius.

Harry frowned a touch. Had Sirius been badly injured? He’d been close to the bomb explosion but Harry was certain that he had contained that. But then Sirius had been in a fight for his life with Crouch for long minutes before Harry’s showdown with Voldemort. And Crouch had been a sadistic bastard.

Concerned, he started listening intently.

“…it’s important that I’m healthy for Harry.” Sirius said.

It was the end of a sentence but Harry knew it summed everything up; Sirius was going to heal so he could be there for Harry. Not that Sirius hadn’t been there already. His father had barely moved from his side for the past two weeks. Which explained why Sirius was having a consult with Noshi in their cabin with Harry only a few feet away in bed.

“Physically, you simply need rest. Your wrist has healed well.” Noshi advised. “You are doing the physio with Harry?”

“Yes, every day.” Sirius confirmed.

“Your scan shows you are following the nutrition plan.” Noshi commented.

Sirius gave some kind of positive noise which Harry could barely hear. “It encourages Harry.”

Harry frowned. That explained why Sirius had actually eaten the grilled banana thing the other night. Sirius wasn’t against bananas but as a side-vegetable…he had made a disgusted face but had soldiered on anyway and now Harry knew why. Harry really didn’t have much of an appetite and wasn’t all that bothered about eating but Sirius insisted they be together for meals and Harry couldn’t bear the disappointed look Sirius would aim his way if he didn’t eat at least half of his meal. He hadn’t insisted Harry eat the banana things.

“…concerned you’re not getting the time you need with the mind healer.” Noshi’s voice travelled low into the bedroom.

“I talk with you.” Sirius replied.

“I am not a mind healer.” Noshi reminded him.

“No, but it’s the talking that’s the point, isn’t it?” asked Sirius.

Talking which Harry still didn’t want to do.

“Then I am at your disposal, my friend.” Noshi said warmly. And Harry loved him for that; for just being there for Sirius.

“Harry’s my biggest concern right now but you know that.” Sirius said matter-of-factly. “But I know I need to deal with my own…baggage so I can be there for him.”

Harry felt his eyes sting at the reminder of just how much Sirius loved him.

“Where would you like to start?” asked Noshi.

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Sirius murmured lowly. “Because it’s not just what happened on the solstice eve.” He sighed heavily – loud enough that Harry could hear it. “This whole year has been both the best and worst of my entire life in some ways.”

Noshi made some kind of humming noise.

“I loved James and Lily and I’ll always treasure my memories of them; there are a lot of very good, very special memories. But being Harry’s father…it’s the very best thing I’ve ever done.” Sirius continued. “I didn’t have the best childhood. My father and mother…they were examples of how not to be parents and there are days when I think I’m getting it horribly wrong but it’s still…seeing him grow and learn and flourish…it’s incredible and I wouldn’t want to give it up. And I don’t care if it was…if Death sent me to him or if it was Fate or…anything like that. I just love him and he’s…he’s my world.”

Harry felt a tear trickle from his eye and he brushed it away.

“I feel guilty sometimes that James doesn’t get to be here, that my choices and suggestions even led to him not being here, but…but he’s forgiven me for that part and I know I’m doing what James asked me to do; to take care of his son and for every time I feel guilty I try to remember that.” Sirius said. “I spent a lot of years where I didn’t fulfil my promise because I was an idiot but I made things right and I think I can be proud of that.”

“So this is why this has been the best year.” Noshi said. “But you also said it was the worst.”

“Losing James and Lily was awful but…is there anything more terrifying as a parent than your child being in danger?” asked Sirius after a long pause when Harry wondered idly if Sirius would ever answer.

“I do not believe so.” Noshi replied.

“All year…” Sirius stopped, his voice thick with emotion. “Riddle was…the prophecy was one thing. It was terrifying on its own because Riddle targeted Harry because of it and Harry wouldn’t ever be safe from him until it was resolved one way or another. And finding that out…realising that…it was heart-breaking.”

He sounded so tired, Harry mused.

“I tried everything I could all year so he wouldn’t have to face him and it wasn’t enough. In the end…Harry still ended up having to kill the bastard.” Sirius made a sharp sound – somewhere between a yelp and a bark. “I hate that I couldn’t save him from that.”

“You hold a lot of rage about this.” Noshi commented.

Harry frowned.

“Not so much with the holding, and more with the rage.” Sirius responded brusquely. “I’m furious. I want to dig up Ignotus and punch his face for putting himself in the position where Death could exploit him. I’m angry at Death because he dealt with Riddle using an innocent boy. I hate that someone made a prophecy about it all and someone overheard it and Riddle decided to act on it. I could throttle Albus for all the years he just sat on his dumb arse waiting for Harry to act when he could have been doing something. I’m so angry that even with all we did to help, Harry still had to face the bastard.”

Wow.

Harry had never heard that amount of anger in Sirius’s voice before.

“But I know my being angry doesn’t change anything.” Sirius said finally. “Harry was in danger and it was terrifying but…I know we might not have been able to stop it from happening but I made sure he had everything he needed at the end to survive it. And he did. And that’s what I have to focus on; that he’s alive and Riddle is dead.”

“Riddle wasn’t the only threat.” Noshi commented. “He is not the reason Harry is here.”

“No,” Sirius’s voice was rough, “that’s on me.”

That was…that wasn’t right.

It wasn’t Sirius’s fault.

“You blame yourself.” Noshi said softly.

There was a long silence and Harry waited anxiously, torn between wanting to hear Sirius’s reply and wanting to run into the room and hug Sirius, tell him it wasn’t his fault.

“I was eleven when I first met Rabastan Lestrange. He came to the Estate for the Summer, he and his brother, because they’d petitioned to be part of the House and Grandfather wanted to assess the family.” Sirius said tersely. “He was actually a nice kid in a way that his brother wasn’t; quiet, intellectual. He liked the piano. He’d read to Regulus and he’d help Narcissa pick flowers for her mother.” He paused. “And I killed him.”

“Because he was a Death Eater.” Noshi pointed out.

“Because I wanted him dead.” Sirius contradicted. “The Lestranges were Riddle’s best Death Eaters. They were brilliant, powerful and the reason why Riddle was able to make the headway he did. They were fervent in their beliefs, in their devotion to Riddle. If they’d lived, they would have been a threat. More of a threat than Crouch on his own and he was…he was their legacy.”

Harry listened as though he was spellbound; he’d never heard Sirius talk about the Lestranges in such a way before.

“They would have hunted Harry.” Sirius continued. “And I couldn’t let them have that opportunity. The family magic…calling Judgement on them gave me a politically correct way of killing them, of taking them out of the picture early. I don’t regret it. After what they did to Frank and Alice, it was a better death than they deserved.”

“But?” prompted Noshi.

“But it made Crouch target Harry because he wanted revenge on me.” Sirius concluded. “I’m not saying Crouch wouldn’t have targeted Harry anyway – he fell in with Riddle easily enough, and was happy to do his dirty work but…if Rabastan had already been dead by someone else’s hand when Crouch was liberated from his father’s basement, do I think he would have come after Harry so fiercely? No.” There was another heavy sigh. “That was to get to me.”

“And he succeeded.” Noshi said quietly.

Harry wanted to deny that, wanted Sirius to deny it…

“Yes.” Sirius said making Harry’s heart hurt with the plain simplicity of it. “Because there’s nothing more terrifying than watching your child in danger and Crouch knew that.”

“You’ve been tortured for an entire year.” Noshi summarised.

“That’s one way of putting it.” Sirius allowed. “But it’s over and in the end Crouch lost. Harry’s alive; I’m alive. And maybe we survived because we had a lot of luck with the way things played out despite Crouch’s best efforts to burn the world down, but…Crouch is dead, and we’re not so I’m going to count it as a win.”

It was a practical way of looking at it, Harry mused. He wasn’t sure he could be that sangfroid about it because if Sirius had been tortured by Crouch using Harry, Harry had been tortured too knowing he was Crouch’s way to hurt Sirius.

But wasn’t Sirius right?

Did it really matter how much hurt Crouch had inflicted on both of them? How much hurt Riddle had inflicted.

They had survived it.

They were alive.

And maybe that was all that mattered.

He snuggled into the warmth of his covers and between one breath and the next fell asleep again, the sound of voices fading into nothingness.

o-O-o

28th June 1995

Minerva wasn’t surprised she was the last to arrive in Remus’s office. She had spent the morning at Hogwarts overseeing what seemed like two hundred things before she had been able to make her way to the hastily called War Council at the Black Estate.

It would have helped if they’d held the meeting first thing in the morning or last thing in the evening, Minerva thought grumpily. She was staying at the Estate after all. She had moved herself and her remaining staff there the day before on the advice of the healers. It had been a relief.

Hogwarts was in disrepair and quite frankly the dragon in Albus’s – in her office was enough to freak anyone out.

She allowed Remus to show her to a chair and ply her with a strong cup of tea – Merlin knew she needed one, and only wished it could be a shot of whiskey.

She glanced around the room, acknowledging the other attendees with a firm nod; Amelia, Cornelius, Bertie, Augusta and a very grumpy looking Moody.

“Thank you all for coming,” Remus said, his soft tone commanding the room instantly, “I realise we’re all very busy but we have news of Sirius and Harry and I wanted to make sure you all received it. Furthermore, we’ve had no official debriefing since the battle and the Minister has agreed we should not wait any longer.”

“Shall we begin with the news from Lord Black?” Amelia asked before anyone else could say a word.

Remus nodded. He picked up a parchment from the mantle and cleared his throat. “Sirius writes, ‘Harry woke from his healing coma last night.’”

Minerva felt the rush of relief so keenly she briefly closed her eyes.

“‘Physically the healers are assured he will recover. But I can’t say I’m not concerned. He’s quiet and withdrawn. He waged a war that would take its toll on any seasoned fighter and there is a lot for him to come to terms with; his actions, the actions of others; grief and betrayal; hope and sacrifice. We may need some time at the Valley.’” Remus continued, his own tone shaking with emotion. “Of course, thanks to the time bubble we’ll be home on the first of July. I need you to ensure Harry returns to a world in control and normal, if still with the final threads to weave on dealing with the aftermath. He needs a solid ground underneath him and I need you and the others to make sure he gets it.”

Minerva found herself nodding and realised she wasn’t the only one.

“‘Give our thanks to all. There are no words which could adequately express the gratitude that we have for those who fought beside us, whether that was through wands, words or prayer. We are honoured by the sacrifices of all. Take care of each other; we’ll be home soon.’” Remus concluded and lay the parchment back down.

“Well said.” Cornelius said a touch pompously, raising his cup in silent salute.

They all followed his example; a toast to Sirius’s words of thanks, to the news of Harry’s recovery.

“I think I’m not the only one who thinks it’s best they’re not here right now.” Amelia said, setting her cup down with a decisive click. “If they need a stable ground…we’ve a lot of work to do.”

Cornelius nodded gravely. “Perhaps we should take one item at a time starting with the debrief and then moving onto what needs to be done now. Amelia, you were at the cemetery.”

“Peter Pettigrew has been able to fill in some of the missing gaps for us. To give Snape credit he was able to activate the mirror soon after Harry arrived there but we don’t really have a good picture of what happened without Pettigrew’s testimony.” Amelia began, rising and wandering over to the mantle to take centre stage.

Minerva glanced at Remus and wasn’t surprised to find him scowling at the mention of the former Marauder.

The tale Amelia weaved seemed like a horror story; torture, a sickening ritual and at the end the call for the Death Eaters.

“Pettigrew has verified in his statement that the Ancient and Noble Houses held to the détente with the House of Black – and that’s certainly what the evidence suggest and what those of us who listened heard.” Amelia grimaced. “Nott died for his defiance; Selwyn was tortured; Malfoy was almost killed.” She gestured. “Harry revealed himself to save Malfoy and Snape finally spoke the secret to bring in the cavalry. Snape was immediately attacked by the snake.”

“What is his condition?” Cornelius asked.

Amelia looked over to Minerva.

“He was given an antidote to the snake venom but remains unconscious.” Minerva reported crisply. “The healers now believe he will recover although that wasn’t certain two days ago.”

“Once we arrived at the cemetery, we engaged with the Death Eaters who were still under Riddle’s banner.” Amelia said tightly. “We lost Keith Brooks and Darren Chambers. Chambers was killed by George Goyle; Brooks by a Darius Stimpson. Stimpson was an auror in the last war; he retired ten years and he was never identified as a Death Eater until now. Eight others in the cemetery fall into the same category. We’re doing veritaserum interrogations to ensure they tell us of any other named associates we can track down.”

Moody snorted at the back of the room.

“At some point,” Amelia continued, “we were all transported to Hogwarts. We have eye-witness testimony of Harry performing such a spell but don’t know why.”

“I’d say because Crouch yanked Black back to Hogwarts with the cup portkey.” Moody said. “They arrived before you lot.”

“Well, as that concludes the cemetery.” Amelia said dryly. “Perhaps we should examine what happened at Hogwarts?” She looked at the former auror with a raised eyebrow.

Moody gave a huff and motioned for Amelia to resume her seat. He ambled to her previous position by the mantle. “Let’s start with the successes.”

Minerva sat forward, intent on listening.

“The evacuation worked like a charm. The drills worked. All non-combatants were off Hogwarts’ grounds within twenty minutes of the alarm being sounded with the exception of one small group of students who were in the school.” Moody said gruffly. “The infirmary was locked down and remained locked down; it wasn’t breeched during the battle.”

Minerva nodded. It was a blessing that it was intact but it was almost the only part of Hogwarts un-ravaged by the intruders.

“Albus held the frontline with the werewolves, elves, and a group of aurors and Unspeakables.” Moody’s magical eye whirled. “Before the defences were raised, we lost an indeterminate number of elves, three wolves, four men and two women. Five others sustained serious injuries.”

Minerva closed her eyes briefly. She’d had no idea the losses had been so great.

“Is there anything the packs need, Remus?” asked Amelia quietly, breaking the sombre silence.

“Those wolves came from Gregor’s and Robert’s packs. Their bodies have been returned to them and they have already performed the funerals.” Remus said. “Sirius left provision to aide any family they had left behind.”

“Please convey our deepest sympathies and thanks.” Cornelius murmured. He turned to Amelia and Bertie. “I know arrangements have been made for our own men and women.”

The two directors nodded.

“Their families have been informed and the bodies released to them.” Bertie said sadly. “I think a memorial day would be appropriate but we should allow the families their own mourning period first.”

“Of course.” Cornelius agreed.

“Our biggest weakness was the school.” Moody continued brusquely. “We didn’t find the cabinet Crouch was using to infiltrate it until well into the invasion. It was in the Divination classroom. We believe Crouch used the Abbott girl to open it and allow Riddle’s forces into the castle.” He looked over at Minerva. “Sybill Trelawney was killed.”

Minerva hadn’t liked the witch; she had a strong cynicism of Divination on a personal level and Sybill seemed to embody the fraudulent and scatty nature of the subject. But Minerva felt a moment’s sympathy for Sybill’s end; for the horror and pain she must have felt.

“Sybill’s cousin has been contacted and she has asked Hogwarts to make whatever arrangements we feel are necessary.” Minerva said briskly. “There will be a short funeral towards the end of the week for those wishing to remember her. The notice will go in the Prophet tomorrow.”

Moody cleared his throat. “Letting the students raising the defences attend the tournament task and not having them in the office was a big mistake. The group were attacked on their way through the castle. The Diggorys were killed; the rest of the adults sustained injuries. The other kids luckily got away.” He shifted his weight. “Flitwick and his crowd were able to get hold of the situation eventually but Crouch did a lot of damage to the castle. Five aurors were killed in total, two more wolves and eleven were injured.”

“Several of the children have given statements in the last few days to explain what happened to them.” Amelia added. “Neville and Blaise came across Hannah and she joined them proclaiming to have gotten separated from Susan. They headed to the Headmaster’s office and met up with the others. Hannah revealed herself to stop them raising the defences at which point Susan turned up and managed to knock Hannah out. A group of them stayed back in the corridor to hold off an attack by Carrow and forces; the others managed to get to the office and raise the defences via a painting of a dragon.”

They all turned to look at Minerva.

“It is quite the painting.” Minerva confirmed dryly. “She admits it will take four Heads of Houses to send her to sleep – four Heads of Houses who have previously been the students who originally woke her.”

“A problem for another day,” Moody said, “the kids did good. The defences came up and we were solid. We were able to contain the rest of the forces.” He paused and looked over at Bertie.

Bertie pressed his lips together, sorrow all too evident in his tired eyes. “Bill confirmed that Neville destroyed the final item in the treasure hunt; the snake. Bill, Caro, and the snake were all transported from the cemetery into the corridor where the students were holding off Carrow. Caro gave her life to save Bill.” He lowered his tear-filled gazed. “She will be missed.”

“Which brings us to the ritual.” Moody said.

Minerva exchanged a brief look with Augusta and it was the Longbottom matriarch who stood.

“The ritual went well.” Augusta confirmed. “Morgana tested us before she would reinstate the blessing and then demanded Hermione’s necklace. As soon as Morgana had it, Hermione herself disappeared from the circle and we all saw events through her eyes.”

“Namely, Harry defeating Riddle after you ladies changed his blood out.” Moody said bluntly. “Nifty little spell that, ladies.”

Minerva smiled satisfied, sharp and vicious as any cat.

“Which brings us to the last of the reports from the battle itself.” Remus said. “Sirius duelled Crouch; that much we know.”

“He killed him.” Moody confirmed. “He contained Travers and we all went to help the lad. Once Harry had his protection back, Riddle was toast; he fell to his own killing curse – Harry sent it straight back to him.”

“And as we had dealt with the anchors he had to this life,” Bertie added, “the curse acted as normal rather than disembodying him as it did in ‘eighty-one.”

“Everything was over we thought but when Poppy went to make the official notice of death for Crouch, she noticed a strange reading and it became apparent that Crouch had turned himself into a bomb.” Remus finished.

“Examination of Poppy’s brief diagnostic and the magical residue suggests Crouch imbibed a potion able to transmute the magical energy of spells into a reservoir in his own body’s cells.” Bertie jumped in. “It was ingenious. Every hit he took in the battle, whether physically onto his person or magically into his shield, or when Riddle called for his Death Eaters, all of it went to lay down the foundation for his energy overload post mortem. Having read Madame Pomfrey’s diagnostic there was enough energy to have destroyed not only the school but the shockwave into the earth would have created earthquakes and devastation across Britain.” He frowned. “A similar potion was invented by Albus to assist with replenishing magical reserves during battle. It’s one of the uses of dragon blood and it contains Effafet feathers.”

“The feathers that Crouch talked to Snape about?” asked Remus incredulously.

Bertie nodded. “Crouch must have been laughing himself silly at the time.”

“According to Neville, Harry invoked the family magic to save everyone.” Augusta said.

Remus sighed. “He did. I think he realised just what the explosion would do and decided it wasn’t enough to transport us out or for only some of the magic to shield us.” He cleared his throat. “He was obviously successful but he was also badly injured and this is when things got…”

“Unreal?” suggested Amelia wryly. She picked up her cup and put it down again. “I really need something stronger.”

Moody handed her his flask.

“According to the reports, the spirit of Merlin appeared to demand the price for using the magic.” Bertie said, stepping in.

“Death stepped in to tell everyone it couldn’t be Sirius or Harry because of some magic Harry had done as the Master of the Hallows so Albus stepped forward.” Remus agreed.

Minerva felt another rush of grief and had to lower her gaze, blinking furiously. For all his faults and flaws, Albus had been a good, dear friend and mentor to her for more years than she cared to remember. She would miss him.

“When his sacrifice was accepted…Helen Jordan immediately ordered Sirius and Harry to the Valley clinic and we began clean-up.” Remus finished.

“How is Hogwarts?” asked Cornelius.

Minerva took a breath and steadied herself. “Most of the corridors and many of the classrooms sustained smoke or fire damage. The Quidditch pitch and stands are almost fully destroyed. The elves have begun work rebuilding and we expect to be complete by mid-Summer. I don’t advise the children return until all the structural work is complete and that will be post the end of the school year. Fortunately only a couple of exams were outstanding and those can be sat at the Ministry.”

“A sensible approach.” Cornelius said. “If the Ministry can help with the rebuilding in any way…”

“Thank you, Minister.” Minerva said. “I believe given that the Hogwarts defences remain in place that we will be fine. But I will keep your offer in mind.”

“So talking of clear-up…” Amelia grimaced, “we have twenty-eight people in custody. Ten were identified as known Death Eaters including Peter Pettigrew and Dennis Travers. The rest are mercenaries.”

Cornelius sat forward. “The Wizengamot is due to sit tomorrow. We propose to call for an emergency tribunal session to sit upon Lord Black’s return to discuss the matter of how to deal with the trials.” He spread his hands. “There is too much conflict for anyone to sit impartially and we’d rather have his oversight.”

“The mercenaries should be a simple matter.” Amelia said. “Those Death Eaters such as Goyle or Travers who actively fought against aurors are similarly easy to deal with. Pettigrew is a problem since he ended up assisting Remus.”

Remus shook his head, his eyes glinting amber. “You know he only did that to save his own arse.”

Amelia inclined her head. “Regardless we have a number who answered Voldemort’s call but who then refused to fight for him; that’s where we potentially have difficulty.”

“Indeed,” agreed Cornelius, “especially as most sit on the Wizengamot.”

“So we have a political minefield to navigate and the tribunal to take place.” Remus said making a note. “Augusta, can you and Daniel make progress organising the alliance?”

“Leave it with me.” Augusta confirmed.

“Hogwarts is under control with Minerva in charge.” Remus said giving her a small smile.

“We will need to deal with the fallout of the spell.” Minerva asserted. “The dragon is very clear that the students pledged themselves to her. They and their families need to understand the specifics of that sooner rather than later.”

Remus made another note. “Was there any fallout for the Wiccan ritual?”

“Apart from Hermione becoming Morgana’s own avatar on the battlefield?” Minerva remarked sharp enough that Remus winced. “I’m not certain any of us can know what that will mean for Miss Granger in the long term.”

“I can begin to research the matter.” Bertie said.

Minerva nodded, grateful. Hermione was a brilliant young woman and deserved to understand the ramifications.

“On a personal level,” Augusta added, “I believe each of the women involved has confirmed a sense of connection and a heightened maternal instinct.”

“It is likely that we will continue the coven in some form.” Minerva said. And in Minerva’s view, it was very likely that Hermione would become the High Priestess for that coven in time.

Bertie caught her eye and they exchanged a brief knowing look.

“Then we also have the fallout for those impacted by Hannah Abbott’s betrayal including Hannah herself.” Augusta waved at Remus to make a note. “I’m at a loss how we can even begin to address that situation.”

“In some respects it’s a criminal matter,” Amelia said, “but complicated by the fact that she was seduced and there is evidence Crouch used compulsion charms and potions.” She rubbed her head. “But I can appreciate the complexity given Susan’s friendship with her.”

Remus made another note. “That leaves us with looking after the injured…”

“In hand.” Amelia said. “All are at Saint Mungo’s and receiving treatment.”

With the exception of Harry and Sirius themselves.

“And the funerals.” Remus finished. He coughed. “Theo Nott has confirmed he won’t hold his father’s until Harry and Sirius return but I don’t see the need to delay any of the others.”

“I think you and I both know Harry will want to attend the funerals.” Minerva argued. “Albus’s in particular but I know he was also close with Caroline.”

“And from all reports Harry grew close to Diggory during the tournament.” Augusta added.

Remus held up his hand. “Do we really want Harry to spend his first weeks back attending nothing but an endless round of funerals? Is that going to help him or simply place more pressure on him?”

“I suggest we allow most of the funerals to proceed to their families’ wishes in the matter.” Bertie said decisively. “Some may want to wait; some may not. Caro’s father has already stated he’d like to place his daughter to rest within the next couple of days.”

Minerva acknowledged that truth with a sigh. She nodded. “I can hardly argue with a family’s right to bury their child.”

Amelia glanced at her, sympathetic. “The Diggorys will be buried tomorrow. Amos’s brother sent word this morning.”

Minerva fervently believed it would upset Harry to return and discover the funerals had already taken place but she appreciated that they had no right to insist that the families waited. She hummed. “There is something with which the Ministry could assist…”

“Anything.” Cornelius offered immediately.

“Albus’s funeral.” Minerva stated baldly, fighting back emotion once again. “I will need assistance. He is to be interred on Hogwarts’ ground – that was agreed with the board of governors some time ago but his funeral should be about more than the school.”

“Of course.” Cornelius said. “I’ll have someone from the Ministry contact you to assist later today.”

“Well, we have a plan to get us back to normality.” Remus lifted the parchment he had been writing on.

“We also need to get a hold of the press – not that it’s been bad or inaccurate but we could do with setting their agenda rather than reading it in print.” Cornelius said. “I’ll liaise with Brian on a few articles to make sure the ground is laid for Harry’s return.”

The meeting broke up shortly after and Minerva waited behind as Remus showed the others to the floo.

Remus shut the door behind him on his return, and sighed at the sight of her. “Minerva.”

Minerva stood. “What did Sirius say you didn’t want the rest of them to know?”

He looked at her with narrowed eyes for a long moment before he caved and picked up the letter. “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” He handed her the parchment.

Minerva watched as a hidden segment was revealed, written in Sirius’s beautiful prose. She frowned as she read of Harry’s unwillingness to speak, Sirius’s concern that it wasn’t a passing phase and about Harry’s mental health in general. She handed the letter back to Remus. “You can’t be surprised that Harry is having difficulty dealing with everything that happened.”

“No,” said Remus defensively before he sat down with a heavy thump and nodded, “maybe? I just…he’s just been so…ever since Christmas Harry’s taken more and more of a leadership role and I guess I’ve managed to convince myself that he was coping.”

“He was.” Minerva said. “But now he isn’t.” She said simply. “If anyone was due for a meltdown, Remus, it was Harry.”

And in some ways she was pleased. It meant that Harry was allowing himself to feel the effects of his traumas and deal with them. It was a much better scenario than him repressing it all and turning into a bitter old man down the line.

“You don’t seem overly concerned.” Remus remarked as though he’d read her mind.

Minerva gathered her purse and shook her head. “Harry’s in the right place to receive the healing he needs and he has the one person with him who can help him through this, who he would want with him to help him. And I can’t help but think it’s best for everyone he’s doing this there in relative privacy rather than when he returns here and will have the attention of our entire world once more.”

Remus nodded. “You’re right. I hadn’t considered it in that way.”

She sighed. “I wish I was there to support them through this but there is enough to do here and I believe we will help Harry best by ensuring things are not in chaos on his return as Sirius has directed.”

Her words echoed in her head as she headed back to Hogwarts.

She made her way through the corridors to Albus’s – her office. She had been avoiding it a lot, partially out of respect for Albus and partially because it was daunting; she was Headmistress and the school was her responsibility. And there was the bloody dragon who claimed to be Hogwarts on the wall.

She squared her shoulders.

She was a McGonagall.

The Regent Apparent for the House of Potter.

And the Headmistress of Hogwarts.

She took a deep breath and entered.

o-O-o

Time Bubble – 15th July 1995

Harry yawned and stretched atop his bed.

He cast a quick tempus spell and frowned when he realised it was early evening. He’d taken a post lunch nap as he was still prone to exhaustion and his post lunch flight around the Valley as Snitch had knocked a fair bit of energy out of him.

He clambered to his feet and headed for a warm shower. The past week had been better, Harry mused. He’d managed to physically regain some strength and doing something, rather than simply sitting drowning in thoughts of everything that had happened, had helped him regain some perspective.

He still didn’t want to talk about it, but he was beginning to accept his own actions and others.

The routine of his treatment helped. Every morning he was up early to do a Tai Chi class; that was followed by a jog and some gym time. He and Sirius exercised together just as they had the previous Summer and Harry enjoyed the faint competitiveness of sprinting the last distance to the gym or performing his exercises before Sirius; teasing Sirius without words about his age.

They’d return to the cabin and would have breakfast together. Harry had made efforts since overhearing Sirius talking with Noshi to eat more so Sirius wouldn’t have to force himself into eating things he didn’t like so Harry would eat. It helped that with Dobby there, the elf was feeding them their favourites most of the time and had stopped experimenting. Truthfully, with the resumption of his physical exercise regime, Harry was hungry; his body demanding the fuel even if his mind still wasn’t in a place to enjoy food as anything other than that.

Late morning was spent in art therapy. Harry had four days before handed Sirius a paintbrush and an easel. He remembered the mural and how Sirius had been responsible for drawing and painting it. He figured if art therapy was good for him, it would be good for his father, and Sirius was happy to indulge him.

Sirius had already completed two paintings; one of James and one of Lily. Both of them as school children, smiling and happy. They were stunning pictures. Sirius had gifted them to Harry who had immediately displayed them in the den.

Sirius was working on a picture of the Marauders; the Forest in the background, Hogwarts in the periphery with the four Marauders front and centre.

Harry didn’t have to be a mind healer to realise the paintings were an act of mourning; of remembering the good times and grieving their loss.

His own paintings were more abstract, mainly a confusion of colour and splatter without form. Healer Fay seemed pleased with them noting that Harry was using the paint to express his emotions and the confusion he was feeling.

Confusion was probably apt, Harry thought as he left the shower and went to put some clothes on. He wasn’t sure what to feel and his moods had a tendency to swing from apathy to anger within the space of a thought.

Spending time in his animagus forms helped.

It had been Sirius’s suggestion. Animals ran on instincts and needs; things were much simpler for them. Padfoot was Sirius’s retreat when the world got too much to deal with because as much as he kept his own brain, he could let himself sink into the animal’s world for a while.

It was another way to gain perspective, Harry mused as he pulled on a t-shirt. Because his animagus forms could see he was safe, fed and warm; that he was loved. They didn’t wonder if he’d done the right thing; didn’t feel guilt over the death of Riddle only an animalistic satisfaction at the elimination of a threat; didn’t feel guilt over the death of Dumbledore only a sense of rightness that the elder had gone before the youth.

He glanced at himself in the mirror and was pleased; he looked better. He grimaced at his hair and went to find Sirius.

His father wasn’t too far away; bustling in the kitchen with Dobby. He was humming off-key some tune they’d heard at the clinic’s gym that morning.

Harry watched for a long moment, drinking in the sight of his father. Sirius was alive and healing.

And so was he.

Sirius finally caught sight of him, smiling widely. “Hey. I’m making tea. Noshi finally got a delivery from London so proper tea and not that awful stuff they usually serve. I was thinking it would be nice with some scones and jam.”

“Sounds great.” Harry winced at how hoarse his voice sounded after weeks of disuse.

Sirius froze and darted a look at him before he casually went back to making the tea, although Harry didn’t miss the flash of relief that crossed his face. “Let’s go on the deck. It’s a nice evening.”

Harry watched as Dobby arranged the tea-tray and rolled his eyes when Sirius levitated it through to the outside rather than just letting Harry carry it. They settled at the table and poured the tea.

Sirius regarded him thoughtfully as Harry sipped the tea enjoying the soothing liquid against his squeaky throat. “Good?”

Harry nodded. He tightened his grip on the cup. “Do you…do you remember when we were here last year and we promised we’d talk about our school years every year?”

“I remember.” Sirius said.

Harry set his cup down, his hands beginning to shake. “I think…I think I’d like to talk about my fourth year now.”

Sirius reached out a hand and Harry grasped it, holding it tightly. “Whenever you’re ready, Harry.”

Harry took a deep breath and began.

o-O-o

Time Bubble – 5th August / Real time 1st July 1995

Sirius smiled softly as Harry finished saying goodbye to his friends. He’d reconnected with Noshi’s grandchildren once he’d gotten back on his feet and spending time with them had helped Harry’s recovery. He could be normal with them; just another teenager.

Sirius was pleased that the six weeks they’d stayed at the Valley had helped Harry heal, not only from the physical injuries he’d sustained, but also from the emotional and mental trauma of the previous year.

Harry wasn’t completely recovered though.

Physically, he still tired easily after spell-work, but he had regained the weight he’d lost and he looked fit and healthy. Emotionally, Harry was also still prone to mood swings and hours where he’d retreat again into silence. But there was a steel core inside of his son which had helped him survive for years and Harry had made strides in his therapy – enough that the clinic was supporting their decision to return to England and the aftermath of the war.

“Noshi.” Sirius took the healer’s outstretched hand and shook it warmly. “Thank you again.”

Noshi shrugged away his gratitude. He let go of Sirius’s hand. “I will not see you here again, my friend.”

“You won’t mind if I think that’s a good thing, right?” Sirius asked, pleased at Noshi’s words. He remembered all too well the previous year when Noshi had forewarned of their return to the Valley.

Harry stepped up beside Sirius and reached out to shake Noshi’s hand. “Thank you, Noshi.”

Noshi clasped his hand and hummed.

Sirius’s heart sank.

Noshi let Harry go and smiled at him. “Your daughter will bring her husband here after a potions accident freezes his hand. She will be carrying their child.”

Harry’s face brightened with happiness. “I’m going to have a daughter?”

“Please tell me she isn’t named Quaffle.” Sirius begged.

They all laughed.

Sirius checked the time. “Come on. The portkey Amelia sent should activate in a few moments.” He held out the shoe to Harry who grimaced and grasped it.

“Why can’t they just use something normal?” grumbled Harry as they nodded a final farewell to the medical staff.

“A shoe is normal.” Sirius pointed out.

The hook and swirl of the portkey travel prevented Harry from replying and a second later they stumbled into a landing in Amelia’s office. Sirius managed to steady Harry with one hand and rebalance himself all at the same time.

Harry pulled a face. “I really hate portkey travel.”

“Harry!” Remus pushed his chair back and bounded over to hug Harry.

Sirius smiled at a beaming Amelia. “Thank you for the shoe home.”

Amelia rounded her desk and surprised him with a hug. “Welcome home, Sirius.”

Remus finally let go of Harry and Sirius found himself released from Amelia’s embrace and swept into Remus’s. “Moony.”

“Padfoot.” Remus sounded like he was blinking back tears.

Sirius patted him carefully on the back. Remus’s hold loosened and he stepped away, surreptitiously swiping at the corner of his eye.

“I’m just so glad to see you both.” Remus said. “When you left…”

Sirius put an arm around Harry’s shoulder. “It was tough but we got better.”

Amelia waved at the chairs in front of her desk and the tea service she had set out. “Remus and I thought it might be a good idea to bring your up to speed before you ended up back in the thick of things.”

Sirius nudged Harry into one chair, took one for himself and Remus slipped into the one that was left. “That’s a good idea.”

“How long has it been for you since the battle?” Amelia asked.

“Six weeks.” Harry replied as Sirius had just taken a sip of his tea.

“You need to keep in mind for most people only seven days have passed.” Remus cautioned.

Sirius frowned because he didn’t think Harry needed the reminder. He nodded at Amelia. “Why don’t you fill us in?”

And she began.

It was a long debrief. Harry was pale by the end of it and Sirius noticed white lines of tiredness and tension around his mouth and eyes when Amelia finally came to a halt and requested a fresh pot of tea.

Sirius waited until Harry’s hand were wrapped around his tea, the warmth of it comforting his son. “What’s on your mind, Harry?”

Harry’s lips quirked sideways into an unhappy frown. “Mostly?” He shrugged – a distinctly teenage variation of studied disinterest. “I know there are bigger things to talk about but all I keep coming back to is Hannah.”

“Understandable.” Remus said soothingly. “She was a friend and she betrayed you; she broke her oath of fealty ten times over.”

“She betrayed everyone.” Harry corrected firmly. “I’m not even the person she betrayed the most.” He looked over at the Director of the DMLE. “How’s Sue?”

Amelia winced and sat back. “Pretty much as you expect her to be; angry, upset, struggling to understand what happened to Hannah.”

“What exactly did happen to her and what’s going to happen now?” asked Harry bluntly. “I mean, you kind of skimmed over that.”

Sirius wasn’t surprised when Amelia glanced in his direction for permission. Sirius gave it with a quick nod. Harry deserved to know the truth of why.

Amelia sighed heavily. “What happened was that Barty Crouch Junior groomed her.”

“Groomed?” questioned Harry.

“It’s a term used to describe how abusers approach and seduce their victims.” Sirius explained crisply.

“Well, Crouch was classic in his grooming technique. To begin with, he courted her with love notes that flattered her; told her how important she was, how special, how pretty and grown-up she was for her age.” Amelia said. “She had kept all of them and most of the early ones only have a compulsion charm to read them and keep them secret, nothing more. He used his elf to send her letters once Hannah started back at Hogwarts and so they began exchanging letters.” She tapped the side of her cup. “His letters…I suspect that there is more truth in them than perhaps he even realised. His heartbreak at losing his first love certainly rings true. He coaxed her into telling him her secrets; convinced her that she was the only guardian of his secrets. He set up an intimacy between the two of them in their correspondence, effectively cutting her off from her parents and friends through creating this…this secret club between them.”

“Which left her isolated.” Remus added. “She came to view him as the only person who understood her; who truly knew her.”

“Why didn’t anyone notice?” Harry wondered.

Sirius reached across and squeezed his shoulder. “Because he was clever. And he had her pretending to be in love with Neville which distracted everyone.”

Amelia nodded. “Susan said to me the other night that she wonders in hindsight how much of Hannah’s love-struck comments which she assumed were about Neville were really about Crouch.” She sat forward clasping her hands on top of her desk. “After Yule Hannah must have had second thoughts because then he potioned her for over a month with a suggestibility potion and the letters had stronger compulsion spells on them including one to fully believe the content.” She sighed. “Eventually, he met her disguised as a Durmstrang student in late January and progressed their relationship further. We think they were secretly dating through most of this year. Susan’s depression after the second task gave Hannah an excuse to pull away from Neville without suspicion, and a ready excuse for her changed behaviour when people did notice.”

Harry gave a nod of understanding.

“Unfortunately, by the end of February it looks as though Crouch was confident enough in Hannah’s feelings for him that he was no longer potioning or compelling her.” Amelia said a touch bitterly. “Even now, she’s utterly convinced Barty was a misunderstood, witty, intelligent man who was victimised by you, Sirius. She confessed she agreed to act as his agent in Hogwarts when he decided to in her words ‘get rid of the traitorous elf who’d kept him prisoner’ and break his cover in the school.”

Sirius shook his head. Poor Leonard and Karen. The couple had to be distraught over what had happened to their daughter.

“They met in secret the night before the task and…and their relationship became sexual.” Amelia continued brusquely. “She stated very firmly it was consensual but as she’s fifteen and legally cannot consent, was thoroughly manipulated into it to boot, it’s considered statutory rape. She still doesn’t see that Crouch did anything wrong. She’s fervent in her belief that she was the one to convince him to have sex; she was the seductress.”

“It’s not unusual for abusers to manipulate their victims into feeling that they are responsible for tempting them into inappropriate behaviour, or into believing the contact is about them being special and beautiful, even into believing they want it.” Remus commented.

“That’s awful.” Harry stated bluntly.

“It is,” Amelia agreed, “and unfortunately Hannah is so thoroughly entrenched in that mind-set that it may take many years for the damage Crouch has wrought to be undone.”

“The mind healers could help her though, right?” asked Harry.

Amelia nodded slowly. “However it may be too late.” She gestured across the desk. “Hannah was confirmed as mentally sound yesterday by the senior mind healer on her case. She is completely aware of right and wrong; she isn’t legally considered insane or incompetent.”

“So she’ll face criminal charges.” Sirius deduced immediately.

“Yes.” Amelia pointed at a folder on the desk. “By her own admission, Hannah knowingly conspired to have Neville kidnapped at Yule. She opened up the vanishing cabinet and allowed vampires, mercenaries and Death Eaters into Hogwarts. She did so knowing that they intended harm to the students, teachers and tournament visitors. She conspired to commit murder and destruction in a terrorist act.”

“I guess there are also charges pertaining to her attack on Susan.” Remus murmured.

“And her attack on the Creevey brothers and Lavender Brown.” Amelia confirmed.

Harry frowned. “What attack?”

“Hannah upon entering Hogwarts stunned the Creeveys and Susan.” Amelia explained. “She imperiused the brothers to attack Miss Brown for no other reason than to keep them occupied and out of her own way. Luckily the Patil twins interrupted the attack before Miss Brown suffered anything more than bruises from being grabbed.”

“Merlin.” Harry muttered.

“All of that group were traumatised.” Amelia confirmed. “And now she has been ruled as mentally competent, I can no longer refrain from formally charging her and arranging for her trial. I was holding off until the results from Saint Mungo’s were known.” She sighed heavily. “Unfortunately there is a very good chance she might be carrying the Crouch heir.”

Harry blanched. “Seriously?”

Sirius had never felt less like drawing attention to the inherent joke about his name. He ignored it and focused on Amelia.

“They found a fertility potion in her system.” Amelia said succinctly.

Sirius repressed the urge to sigh. “What do you intend?”

“She’ll be remanded to a holding cell this afternoon, charged and her trial set for a date after we can verify whether she is pregnant or not.” Amelia confirmed briskly. She gestured at the folder. “The Wizengamot may apply leniency to the sentencing given her age and that as the victim of Crouch, she was manipulated into performing the crimes and potentially does have a case for diminished responsibility. She’ll end up in Azkaban either way especially now the Dementors are no longer a consideration.”

Sirius frowned before he remembered how Remus had explained Hogwarts had killed the remaining Dementors as part of her defence; Cornelius had approached the goblins about a guard contract and it would be reviewed and hopefully approved in a special Wizengamot session. In the interim, a group of aurors and hit wizards were performing the duty of securing Azkaban.

“Of course, if she’s pregnant, there will be arrangements made to ensure she receives care until the child is born.” She continued. “Leonard and Karen will then need to make a decision on the care of the child.” She looked at Sirius. “You could call Judgement on her; she took the fealty oath as Heir before Crouch got his hooks into her.”

Sirius felt another pang of sympathy for the Abbotts. It was a mess. “Let’s hope she isn’t pregnant. I think we’ll hold off on Judgement either way.”

Harry gave a slow nod. “How much of this does everyone know?”

Amelia sighed. “Only the barest details; that she was seduced by Crouch and her known crimes. I’ve kept everything else under wraps to protect Leonard and Karen but some, if not all, of it will come out at trial.” She picked up her tea. “I’m honestly not looking forward to explaining this to Susan.”

Harry nodded. “Or Neville.”

“I think they’ve been a good support for each other.” Remus said. “I’ve noticed they tend to gravitate towards each other during meals at the Estate.”

Sirius looked over at him in confusion.

Remus’s cheeks went a touch red. “Ah, I guess I forgot to mention that the House of Black and its allies are currently in residence at the Black Estate? The healers thought it would be beneficial for us all to be together.”

“Yes, you forgot to mention that.” Sirius said dryly. He nudged Harry. “You still want to head home?” They had planned to go straight to Griffin House.

Harry bit his lip as he thought but he ended up shaking his head. “Let’s go to the Estate. We should be there with everyone else.”

“Is there anything else we need to know immediately?” asked Sirius, turning back to Amelia.

She shook her head. “I will need to interview you for your official statements at some point though.”

Sirius reached into his robe and drew out two rolled-up parchments. “Our written statements. Let us know when you want to meet.”

Amelia smiled at him. “Thank you, Sirius.”

Sirius waited until Harry was on his feet before he moved them to the floo.

It was time to go home and begin rebuilding with their allies.

Next Chapter: A Marauder’s Plan: Chapter 85