Storytime with Rachel F Hundred

23^rd December 2010

“What were you thinking?!” Sirius demanded.

“What you need is a war council,” Remus began, cutting in before Sirius could berate Harry further for talking with Grindelwald of all people.

Harry shot Remus a look of gratitude. It was a pattern which had been formed through their first few years together. Harry would do something, Sirius would get mad with worry mostly, and Remus would be the voice of sanity.

Sirius pointed at Remus, leaning back in his comfortable leather desk chair. “Good point, Moony.”

“A war council?” Harry frowned. “Isn’t it a little early to constitute a war council? There isn’t exactly a visible threat yet.”

“All the better,” Remus said, gesturing with his coffee cup from his usual seat in front of Sirius’ desk.

The Alpha werewolf looked good even if he was showing the signs of premature aging with the toll lycanthropy had taken on his body. His brown hair was mostly grey and there were fine lines of wrinkles criss-crossing his faint white facial scars.   

“If you get your war council in place now, you might have a chance to avoid the battle you once saw,” Remus continued. “The future you saw is still a ‘might-be’ not a certainty.”

Harry exchanged a quick look with Sirius before he pushed out of his own usual chair – the one next to the desk rather than across from it – and paced to the window. He stared out at the starry evening sky.

“It’s not quite that simple, Remus,” Sirius murmured behind him. “What Harry experienced isn’t just a might-be future which can be avoided, it is a battlefield where he stood as Death’s Raven and I was there as Death’s Grim.”

“It will happen,” Harry said, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets. He turned back to face them. “We know that much.”

“Then all the more reason for a war council now,” Remus said, a hint of frustration flickering over his expression.

Remus had researched for years trying to understand what being Death’s Raven and Grim really meant for Harry and Sirius’ lives. But there was little precedence recorded in wizarding lore, even less in muggle mythology, and they had accepted that they just did not know the true consequences beyond what they had already learned during their preparation for Voldemort. Harry was named Death’s Champion; the Raven on Death’s shoulder. Sirius was Death’s Grim who Death had given to Harry to love and protect him because the Grim had protested the sacrificing of an innocent.

“Talk me through it,” Harry said, walking back over and resuming his seat.

Remus set aside his coffee cup and clasped his hands together, clearing considering his words. “We set up the war council to best facilitate Sirius’ plan to take over the wizarding world…”

Harry and Sirius smirked in unison.

“…and that was best facilitated by bringing the key figures of the government onto the Council – the Minister, the Heads of the DMLE and the DOM, and Albus because he was a powerful wizard and someone who Voldemort feared.”

“Plus we needed to control him to an extent and having him on the Council meant we knew what he was up to mostly,” Sirius chipped in, leaning forward over the desk.

“That too,” Remus conceded. “We also had a part for everyone to play in the plan so that helped everyone feel that they had a point of view which contributed.”

Harry nodded. He understood that more at the age of thirty than he had at fifteen. Back then it had simply made sense to his teenage mind that Amelia had been in charge of tracking down the Death Eaters and Voldemort, Bertie had taken lead on the horcruxes, and Cornelius on helping Sirius and the Potter Alliance reshape the Wizengamot politics. 

“I don’t have a plan,” he said out loud.

“Perhaps that’s where your Council should start,” Sirius said thoughtfully. “I was able to plan because I knew who the bad guy was, how he was keeping himself alive, and had theories about the prophecy and your role – all of which got confirmed early on. It gave me a framework.”

“I don’t have any of those things,” Harry pointed out.

“Don’t you?” Sirius arched an eyebrow. He pointed a finger at him. “You know more than you think you know.”

Harry grimaced and rubbed his chin. He hated thinking about the battlefield. “I know the king is fifteen when it happens. I know that he finds the sword…”

“The one which you used during the second task and threw back into the lake,” Remus interjected.

“Yes,” Harry acknowledged briefly. “I know Luna is pregnant and has returned earlier than she planned because something is beginning next year.” He scowled. “And we know Lucius Malfoy has chosen the other side and is actively trying to kill his children to give himself more power.”

Sirius tapped the desk lightly. “There’s your immediate reason.”

Harry nodded slowly. “We cloak this in responding to Lucius as a threat.”

“Sounds like the beginning of a plan,” Remus said brightly.

“The rest of the plan should probably be shaped by you with your Council,” Sirius said.

Harry tilted his head towards his father. “Are you not going to be part of my Council?”

“Are you inviting me?” asked Sirius grinning.

Harry rolled his eyes.

“On a serious – do not make a joke!” Remus warned Sirius before turning back to Harry. “On a serious note, the membership of your Council probably needs to reflect your needs now.”

“I’ll always need you and Pads,” Harry said sincerely. “I value your advice.”

Sirius and Remus exchanged a brief glance.

“We appreciate that, Harry, but you do know we can advise you without being part of your Council?” Sirius said softly but with a parental firmness that Harry recognised all too well.

“I know,” Harry gestured at Remus first, “but Remus is a prominent Alpha werewolf with one of the strongest packs in Europe, and you’re not just a schoolteacher – you’re Lord Black.” He held his father’s gaze. “You’re also Death’s Grim. We already know that you’ll be on the battlefield with me.”

“Where else would I be?” Sirius smiled at him.

“Right then,” Remus clapped his hands together drawing their attention. “We have the beginnings of a Council.”

“Good,” Sirius said, “because I’m definitely up for being on this Council if it will stop you from talking with Grindelwald. I mean, what were you thinking?”

Harry sighed.

o-O-o

“What were you thinking?” James Potter looks just as exasperated with Harry in his dream as Sirius had been in reality. Harry had longer ago realised that the familial resemblance in their facial features became more predominant when they were exasperated.

They were in a boys’ dorm room in the Gryffindor tower.

“I was thinking it would be useful to talk to a bad guy,” Harry threw up his hands and sat down on the bed which had once been his. “I don’t know! Lucius attacking Draco and Reggie made me a little crazy.”

“Or scared,” James suggested.

“Or scared,” Harry allowed.

His father sat down next to him and Harry leaned into James’ strength.

“They understand, you know,” James murmured. “They’re scared too.”

“I don’t think Narcissa is scared so much as furious,” Harry said dryly.

“Ah, well,” James winced, “who better than us to know that a mother protecting her child is a formidable threat. Lucius is probably underestimating her.”

“He always did,” Harry said.

“More fool him,” James said. He nudged Harry with his shoulder. “She would be a good member of your Council.”

“I’m beginning to think I need a castle to house the Council,” Harry joked, although there was more truth to his statement than he liked to think about. Between the four Hogwarts’ protectors, Hermione, Neville, Padfoot and Moony…he was already up to eight people. Sue could probably pull double duty and liaise with the DMLE but they probably should have someone from the DOM.

Not Snape. Never Snape.

By all accounts, Severus Snape was an excellent Unspeakable but Harry would never trust him.

“Hmmm. It’s good that you included Remus and Sirius,” James murmured. “Once a Marauder…”

“Always a Marauder,” Harry agreed. He sighed. “Isn’t it important to keep the Council small?”

James nudged him again. “Arthur had a Round Table with thirteen positions.”

Harry raised his eyebrows at the idea.

“Just a thought,” James said. He grinned suddenly and clapped his hands. “Now, enough of war.” He waggled his eyebrows. “What you really wanted to talk to me about was proposing to Hermione, right?”

Harry smiled and settled against his father to talk over his plans. It was going to be perfect.

o-O-o

24^th December 2010

Nothing was going to plan.

Harry grumbled under his breath as he climbed the stairs to his living quarters. He’d been woken far too early that morning by Hagrid claiming there was a delegation of centaurs who wanted to talk to him at the edge of the Forest.

Harry had spent the last five hours dealing with evermore cryptic statements which amounted to the fact that they knew something was coming and wanted to affirm their allegiance to Hogwarts.

Which was great.

He just wished it could have taken five minutes rather than five hours.

He took a deep breath as he neared the door. He’d missed Hermione’s arrival and had sent a Patronus to his father asking him to greet her in his stead and take her to Harry’s quarters so she could use the guest room and freshen up.

Hogwarts stirred in the portrait as he got closer. “Your mate is inside with the Trusted Ones.”

“Thank you,” Harry replied in parseltongue. He gave himself a brief moment to adjust his teacher’s black wizarding robe, to try to look less like he had been wrangling with centaurs for hours…and sighed heavily. He shook his head and opened his door.

The scene by the fire warmed him.

Hermione sat in an armchair looking just as stunningly beautiful as she had the last time he’d seen her. Her curly caramel hair was tamed into a classic chignon and her light make-up was immaculate bringing out the chocolate tone in her eyes. There was a hint of pink on her cheeks and she’d chewed her lipstick off as usual. She was warmly dressed in a Black tartan woollen dress with black ankle boots peeking out at the bottom.  

The sofa was crowded with their friends – Ron, Luna, Sue, and Draco. Harry barely nodded to them as he stepped across the room.

Hermione got to her feet gracefully and met him half-way, their hands clasping together as they kissed each other hello, gently yet fiercely.

Harry eased back and drank in the sight of her. “Welcome home, Doctor Granger.”

Hermione’s lips twitched into a smile. “Headmaster Potter.”

“Could the pair of you be anymore nauseating?” Draco drawled.

“Oh, they can be,” Ron commented with a cheeky grin, “I’ve seen it.”

Hermione and Harry both shot their oldest friend a look.

Ron paled and sprang to his feet. “I have, uh, the thing to do?”

“Lunch?” suggest Luna brightly. She held out her hands and Ron hurriedly helped her wrestle her way out of the sofa. Her bright green dress with its layers of floaty organza swirled around her.

“Come by the infirmary later,” Hermione said firmly. “I’d like to get a full physical if I’m going to deliver the baby.”

Luna smiled sunnily, placing a hand on her enormous bump. “I will be there.” She chivvied Ron ahead of her as they made for the door.

Draco rose and offered his arm to Sue who took it. “We’ll leave you to your lunch.”

Sue grinned at Harry as she sailed past.

The door closed behind them leaving Harry alone with Hermione.

“I take it we’re not joining them?” asked Hermione, squeezing his hands gently.

“I had plans for lunch alone, just the two of us,” Harry admitted.

Hermione smiled. “I’d like that.”

It only took a moment to call for Dobby and the picnic basket; to summon the ring into his pocket.

He held her hand as they walked through the school to the Room of Requirement. Harry paced in front of the door briefly and when they entered they emerged onto the platform at Hogsmeade, the Hogwarts Express just in front of them.

“Are you re-enacting our first date?” asked Hermione with a bright laugh.

“Maybe,” Harry conceded with an answering smile.

He led her onto the train and into their compartment.

The picnic did mirror the lunch they’d had on that date; warm bread rolls, chicken salad, slices of apple pie for afters, all washed down with sparkling grape juice.

They caught up as they demolished the picnic. Hermione listened quietly, a faint line between her brows, as Harry talked through the events since Luna’s return.  

“Really, Harry, Grindelwald?” Hermione said, gesturing at him with her glass. “What were you thinking?”

“I know, I know,” Harry said, waving his own glass at her. “I’ve already heard it from Remus and Sirius.”

“As much as I hate to say it though, I think Grindelwald was right,” Hermione mused. “We should never have left Lucius as a dangling thread.”

“Apparently we didn’t,” Harry motioned with his bread roll, “well, not entirely. Pads said they had a spy in the household staff for seven years until they retired and Narcissa had Kreacher weave monitoring spells into the wards on the estate up until Regina started at Hogwarts.”

Hermione blinked owlishly before giving a sharp nod. “That makes more sense.”

Harry sighed. “Perhaps we should have just given him a better outcome. He’d cooperated. He did help in the final confrontation…”

“Unwillingly,” Hermione pointed out.

“But still…” Harry grimaced. “I know he was self-serving but maybe if we hadn’t exiled him and found a different role for him here…”

“Maybe,” Hermione conceded, “but what’s done is done. That curse spell is awful. Draco mentioned he was trying to create a counter-amulet for him and Regina to wear as a shield when they’re outside of Hogwarts’ wards. I’ll see if I can help him with that.”

Harry smiled at her. That was his Hermione; brightest witch of their age. “I take it then that you’re sticking around at Hogwarts?”

Hermione nodded. “Luna’s asked me to stay as her doctor of record since she wants me to deliver the baby.”

Harry wasn’t surprised by that.

“She said everything would begin in the new year,” Hermione noted. She set her lunch plate aside and picked up her juice. “Do we know why the timeframe has come forward?”

Harry shook his head. “The magic involved with the enchantment around Arthur’s reawakening is pretty complex. Something must have happened to initiate it sooner than we had thought but I’m not sure what.” He pushed his empty plate into the picnic basket, scowling in remembrance. “The centaurs kept mumbling something about how Mars was moving across the heavens ahead of all the other stars in the sky.”

“Do we even know who the bad guy is?” asked Hermione bluntly.

Harry shook his head. “The prophecy says that Arthur reawakens to meet England’s greatest need but no other detail than that.”

“Bloody prophecies,” Hermione grumbled.

“You can say that again,” Harry sighed. He drank down a gulp of the juice.

Hermione reached out and snagged his hand, holding it firmly. “It disturbs you, doesn’t it? Another boy on a battlefield having to face their Fate?”

Trust Hermione to pick up on his underlying frustration, Harry mused. “He’s just a young boy even if he is a king.”

“And you have literally been in his shoes,” Hermione says gently.

Harry sighed again, heavier than before. “We know how much a fight against evil costs an innocent, I hate knowing I have to watch him go through what we did.”

Hermione squeezed his hand. “We’ll just have to make sure we do everything we can to protect him, the same way Sirius did for you.”

Harry squeezed her hand back.

“I should probably investigate Avalon,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “From what we know from my dreams and Luna’s Seeing, Morgana’s legacy has as much of a role to play as Merlin’s.”

“Life sent her Champion to walk beside Death’s,” Harry agreed. He couldn’t have fought Voldemort without her.

“I’ll talk with Helen about transitioning,” Hermione said. “I’ll take over fully in the next academic year, I think. That way I can spend the time this year getting to know the routine without the pressure of running the infirmary myself.”

She left unsaid that it would leave her time for her research and to begin to explore Avalon.

It made sense to Harry.

Hermione hummed. “I’m thinking if we get married late June that would be perfect, what do you think?”

“June sounds…” Harry stopped abruptly as her words registered fully. He snapped his gaze to meet hers.

She was smirking at him.

Harry pushed a hand through his hair. “Who gave the game away? It was Ron, wasn’t it?”

Hermione’s fingers twisted in his. “I think it’s probably easier to say who didn’t than who did. None of our families are very subtle.” She poked him in the ribs with her free hand. “So, I think you have something to ask me, Harry Potter.”

Harry shifted, keeping hold of her hand while positioning himself in the classic one-knee proposal position. The ring box floated out of the basket and into his free hand. He opened it to reveal the ring.

“Hermione Granger, I love you,” Harry began, the speech he’d prepared deserting his mind. “I can’t imagine the rest of my life without you there. Will you marry me?”

“Oh Harry!” Hermione’s warm brown eyes gleamed with tears. “I can’t imagine my life without you either! Yes, yes, yes!”

She threw herself forward and Harry caught her. They held each other tightly for a long moment before Hermione pulled away and offered her splayed hand, wiggling her fingers pointedly.

Harry grinned and placed the Potter ring on her finger, lifting her hand to kiss it almost reverently.

Hermione leaned forward to capture his lips with hers.

Their kiss was as sweet and loving as the first time.

They parted grinning at each other inanely.

“When do you have to go back to work?” asked Hermione.

“Not for a while,” Harry said.

“Well, then, Headmaster, I feel like we have fallen badly out of the practice of kissing and should do that some more,” Hermione teased.

Harry swooped to kiss her again.

And again.

And again.

Everything had gone perfectly to plan, after all.  

o-O-o

Harry had no idea where he was only that he was certain it was somewhere he had never been. He stood in an orchard of apples, pink blossom on the trees. In the distance there was the sound of lake water lapping on a rocky shore.

“Welcome to Avalon and the Isles of Apples, Harry, child of Merlin.”

Harry spun around.

Morgana Le Fey sat behind him on a white wooden bench. Her silver robes flowed around her in a swirl of magic; her dark hair was caught in an up-do but tendrils escaped and fell around her face, emphasising her high cheekbones and dark eyes.

Harry bowed his head to her. “I’m honoured to visit, Lady Morgana of the line of Le Fey.”

“You will also be welcome here, Harry,” Morgana smiled at him. “You carry my blessing and your wife is of Avalon.”

“You chose her in the ceremony to stand beside me because I loved her,” Harry murmured. He’d always felt a little guilty about that.

“No,” Morgana said softly, “Hermione chose to stand beside you herself because she loved you and where there is love there is life.”

Harry nodded slowly, feeling in a way that he never had before that it was the truth.

“She loves you still, chooses you still just as you choose her,” Morgana continued. “She will help you protect the king as I helped Merlin. Wiccan magic will be born again with her.”

Harry smiled. “I’ll help her.”

Morgana rose from the bench and approached him. “Never forget love is your heart and spirit.”

She leaned forward and kissed him briefly on the forehead. It was icy and cold but the buzz of her magic even in the dream was powerful.

“Carry my blessing, Harry, child of Merlin, and know that it and the woman you love are your shield against the coming storm.”

Morgana stepped back from Harry and disappeared into a cascade of silver magic.

o-O-o

Epilogue: 1^st January 2011

“Push!” Hermione instructed Luna firmly from the end of the bed. “You’re almost there, Luna!”

Luna grimaced, swiping at sweat on her brow with her free hand. Her fair was stuck to her forehead. Poppy Pomfrey stepped up to gently cleanse her face before stepping away again.

Harry held onto Luna’s other hand as she bore down with a grunt. He wondered again how Hermione and Luna had talked him into being there, but then if Luna needed him to be with her…

“That’s it, Luna! That’s it!” Hermione crowed.

“Argh!” Luna cried out suddenly and slumped back against the mountain of pillows.

A cry rent the air, strong and loud.

Harry began to grin. He gently squeezed Luna’s fingers. “You have a baby, Luna!”

Luna gave a hiccupping laugh, her gaze fixated to her child. He was held firmly by Hermione who was cleaning him up a little at the same time as taking magical diagnostics of his health, weight and measurements.

“You have a son, Luna,” Hermione said brightly.

In the moment she walked around the bed, Poppy and Harry helped Luna sit up a little better against the pillows.

Hermione placed the clean baby wrapped in a yellow blanket in Luna’s waiting arms. She moved back and slid an arm around Harry’s waist as they stood next to the bed watching Luna greet her child.

The baby’s magic reached out to his mother and Harry shivered at the familiarity of it.

Cedric.

Hermione reached up and kissed Harry’s stubbly cheek before she slipped away to finish seeing to Luna’s treatment, magically dealing with the afterbirth and other messy details which Harry preferred not to dwell upon.

Luna turned to Harry. “Come and meet Caradoc, Harry.”

“Caradoc?” Harry offered his little finger and smiled as the baby’s tiny fingers reached out to grasp it.

“Caradoc,” Luna said firmly.

“Suits him,” Harry said. “Congratulations, Luna.” He gently touched Caradoc’s cheek. “Welcome back to Hogwarts,” he whispered.

Luna smiled at him as she adjusted her hold, cuddling her child even closer. “The awakening has begun. He is the first.”

“He heralds the king,” Harry said, the words springing forward as though a prophecy of their own.

Luna nodded. “Will you go and tell the others Caradoc is here? They can visit briefly but then I think I want to simply stare at my baby.”

Harry smiled at her. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You’re a warrior, Luna.”

“Of course I am,” she smiled at him, “I’m a mother.” Her laugh followed him out of the room.

o-O-o

The shining white towers of Camelot reached towards a clear blue sky. Harry could feel the caress of the sun against his skin. His bare feet sank into damp grass beside the lapping waters of the lake. Across the water he could see the faint shape of Avalon hiding in the mist.

By the water a group of children played tag, their happy shrieks of laughter carrying on the wind. A young blond boy held aloft a wooden sword atop a boulder before darting off into a puddle of light, all the others following in his wake.

Harry smiled at the sight of them before the knowledge of what was ahead of the innocent souls pressed his lips together in a frown.

“It is their time to wake; do not grieve for them.”

Harry spun around to find Merlin just behind him.

Merlin wore his usual plain brown wizarding robe and carried his staff. His dark hair was caught back in a long braid, and his amber eyes gleamed with the power of his magic.

“I know what they face,” Harry countered.

“They face no more than you did yourself,” Merlin pointed out.

Harry grimaced. “That’s why I grieve for them.”

Merlin placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Ah, but you know the power which can save them.”

“Love,” Harry whispered.     

Merlin turned his gaze back to the playing children. “It is part of the fabric of our world, Harry; where there is love there is life.”

Harry sighed. “I still wish there was another way.”

Merlin smiled, his form flickering silver and gold before he dissolved in a cascade of magic. “Know that anything is possible in Avalon. Guide our King well, my child. He is yours to protect now.”

o-O-o

“Another dream?” Hermione offered him a mug of hot chocolate as she came to stand beside him on the tower roof. She tutted and cast a warming spell even though they were both bundled up in woollen coats over their sleepwear, fluffy socks and boots on their feet, Gryffindor scarves around their necks.

Harry lifted his arm and she dived into the space to cuddle into his side. “I think that will be the last for a while.”

“Who was it this time?” asked Hermione.

“Merlin,” Harry answered succinctly. He took a sip of the warming chocolate. “Arthur’s spirit will awaken in the world soon.”

“Caradoc’s the beginning,” Hermione murmured.

“Yes,” Harry agreed, “he’ll be Arthur’s most faithful of knights.”

Hermione pressed into him. “They won’t be alone. We’ll protect them, Harry.”

“We will,” Harry said. He raised their joined hands and kissed her knuckles, his thumb brushing over the ring he’d given her. “We’ll protect them together.”

A wind brushed by him the scent of lilies perfumed the air; the familiar comfort of the Potter and Black magic swirled around him, comforting him like the most perfect hug of a loved one.

It was time, Harry considered wryly, for another Marauder’s plan.

fin.

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