|
||||||||
|
||||||||
Author: legobean Story: Harry Potter and the Toll of Destiny Rating: Teens Status: WIP Reviews: 20 Words: 169,577
Disclaimer: Did you ever work really hard on a project at work, and then after you finished it, someone swooped in and took all the credit? Yes, well I’m not doing that. Harry Potter and the other characters from the Harry Potter books are the property of J.K. Rowling. She worked really hard on her books, and deserves all the credit in the world. I’m just entertaining myself (and hopefully you) by borrowing some of her characters. I’m not making a profit, or attempting to take any credit for her work. True to her word, two mornings later Hermione kissed her boys and her husband goodbye and headed back to the cabin. She Apparated to the closest possible point outside the wards where she found a fresh layer of snow and a set of footprints headed in the same direction she was. Immediately, worry started to creep into her thoughts, and she jogged along as quickly as she could. Her bookwormish qualities combined with having two children, meant that she wasn’t in as good of shape as she would have liked and she was huffing and puffing by the time she reached the last turn. Sure enough the footprints continued directly towards the snow covered cottage. As she tried to hurry along the slippery and uneven ground, she slipped and tumbled spectacularly onto her backside. Swearing violently, she picked herself up and limped a good deal more painfully the rest of the way to Harry’s temporary home. When she finally reached it, she approached slowly and peered through the windows. She saw a bob of a woman’s light brown hair sitting in a chair, her back towards the window, talking to Harry. Harry saw Hermione through the window and waved and smiled at her. She let herself into the house as Harry’s guest turned around to reveal a very pretty woman, wearing a brightly coloured snowsuit and hiking boots. “Tonks! You scared me half to death!” Hermione huffed, still very out of breath from her quick trip through the snow. “Hello, Hermione. Sorry, I didn’t mean to alarm you. The Ministry had detected some very odd magic going on up here and contacted me since I own the property, and I decided I had better come have a look. And it’s a good thing I did. Look what you’ve been hiding in my cabin!” She turned and wiggled her eyebrows at Harry. Hermione took off her traveling cloak and then gave Tonks a brief hug. “How did you get in?” “Harry let me in,” Tonks answered brightly. Hermione turned towards Harry and arched an eyebrow at him but said nothing. “I knew you were up to something when you asked to borrow the cabin for a few months, but I had no idea that what you were up to was so devious and cool!” Tonks giggled. “I just wish you would have told me; I could have helped! I’ve always wanted to truss Harry up and sneak him off to a secret location,” Tonks flirted outrageously. She winked at Harry and beamed at him. “It’s good to see you, too,” Harry smiled sheepishly as he glanced at Tonks momentarily. His eyes then began a dedicated study of the floor. “You bet it is,” Tonks leered playfully. “So what kind of magic was going on up here that concerned the Auror’s office?” Hermione said concernedly. “Well, did you notice how much snow was on the ground outside?” Tonks asked innocently. Hermione nodded. “Yes, well there were a couple of tremendous bursts of magic right outside the house at about five am this morning, and then we got some very interesting reports about the weather from the residents around here.” “I thought you said there weren’t many residents around here?” Hermione asked confused. “You said these were mostly summer cabins.” “Oh, not many people live so close to the lake, but when I say around here, I didn’t necessarily mean that close by,” Tonks said with an evil grin. “Okay, Tonks, out with it. What happened?” “Well, it’s been snowing heavily since last night, and there were about seven inches on the ground and then about five am, it disappeared,” Tonks smirked. “Disappeared? It melted?” Hermione asked confusedly. “Er no, it disappeared. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you, Harry?” Tonks asked with an innocent expression on her face. Harry was staring squarely at the floor. “Then as it continued to snow, it suddenly stopped hitting the ground. It seems it would float down to the ground, and get a few inches away and then suddenly fly back up and swirl around again.” Hermione was looking from Harry to Tonks. Harry looked guilty as he did when he told Hagrid that they had arranged for Norbert to move to Romania. Tonks just looked thoroughly amused. Finally she turned to Tonks. “But it couldn’t have been Harry; I have his wand.” She pulled Harry’s wand out of her robes as if to prove his innocence. “I didn’t use a wand,” a red faced Harry admitted, still looking squarely at the floor. “It was snowy all over, and I wanted to see if I could clear the path by Vanishing the snow only I didn’t have my wand. It worked really well, but it was hard to control the strength and I cleared more snow than I had really intended. So I decided to cast the spell with as much power as I could and see how far I could clear the snow from around the cabin,” Harry finished quietly. “Oh, my. And how much snow did you clear?” Hermione asked. “All of the snow for a radius of about thirty miles, and some snow from at least one hundred and forty miles away.” Tonks snickered. Harry and Hermione both looked at her in shock. “It’s good to have you back, Harry.” Tonks smiled at Harry, her eyes dancing. “Don’t worry about the Ministry. I’ll take care of it; you didn’t break any laws after all, and they don’t need to know it was you. But just out of curiosity how long have you been performing magic without a wand? According to official Ministry records it’s impossible for and adult wizard to perform magic without a wand.” Harry’s ears coloured as he answered. “I only found out two days ago, when I was trying to open the window. It was locked magically, but when I asked it to open, it did.” Tonks and Hermione both looked at him curiously. Hermione had known Harry had been performing some wandless magic before he disappeared. Mostly simple things, but she had been hoping he didn’t realise that. She’d also hoped that the spells in the cabin were sufficiently complex that Harry wouldn’t be able to break out without his wand. Apparently that was not the case, she thought as she fingered Harry’s wand in her pocket. “I see. Well unless you want to spend the rest of your life being poked and prodded by Unspeakables, I’d keep that little talent to yourself. It’s just not something that people do anymore. It used to be that all magic was performed without a wand of course, since they hadn’t been invented yet, but as people started using more powerful spells they became dependant on them. You’re the first person I’ve met who can perform a Vanishing spell without one. I suspect there are rather a lot of people who’d like to study that,” Tonks finished, giving Harry a warning look. Harry pulled a face at this bit of news. “I didn’t think it was a big deal.” “You’ve been able to do spells pretty powerfully without a wand for a long time Harry, but you’ve always had problems with control. You started experimenting; when we were hunting for the Horcruxes, you said something about having done it before. You started with the lighting spell, and progressed through first year charms. You’ve always been best at spells that don’t require delicate control,” Hermione admitted. “I kept a list of all the spells I’ve seen you perform wandlessly because, well, it seemed like someday it might be important. I have it in my notes at home if you want to look at it sometime.” “You were studying me?” Harry asked, his voice squeaked a bit with hurt. Now it was Hermoine’s turn to look guilty. “It wasn’t like that, Harry, I kept a bunch of notes of different things. I thought it was important that some of what you did was recorded for posterity.” “Why?” Harry demanded. “Well, what we were doing was of historical significance, and frankly, it was a lot more interesting that studying Goblin rebellions. Someday if they ever get rid of Professor Binns I think much of the work we did will be taught in History of Magic.” “I don’t want to be a subject at Hogwarts,” Harry insisted while waving his arms erratically. “She’s right, Harry, like it or not you’re an important part of wizard history. You wouldn’t want people to forget about how evil Voldemort was, and you can’t tell that story without the champion.” Hermione had started waving behind Harry’s back to try and get Tonks to stop, but she continued on anyway, and Hermione shuddered in anticipation of Harry’s response. “I only did what I had to do.” He turned towards Hermione. “You can’t tell them about you-know-what. Some things are meant to be forgotten.” “Harry, I’m not suggesting we tell school children how to make them, but it’s important for someone to know how to destroy them, in case someone makes more in the future. Just think how much trouble we had finding information on destroying them. Someone needs to know, so they don’t have to figure it out they way we did. Tonks looked between the two of them in confusion. “What are you talking about?” They both ignored Tonks as Harry replied, “I don’t remember having any problems finding information. I don’t even remember how we did it. You can’t possibly think that anyone would do it again?” Harry asked, his face purpling with rage. “I think it’s inevitable that if one madman tried it, in the future another one will, but next time you might not be here to stop them,” Hermione explained carefully. “I don’t want any information on Horcruxes getting into the public’s hands, Hermione, it’s dangerous,” Harry implored, as his hair began to wave in an unseen breeze. “What’s a Horcrux?” Tonks asked. Her indignation at being ignored clearly rising. “Yes Harry, the information is dangerous, but sometimes too little information about a subject being available is just as dangerous as too much,” Hermione reasoned. “You just have to keep control over who has the information, and which information they have.” “Would one of you please tell me what you’re arguing about?” Tonks demanded, her features changing so that her eyes were narrower and her brow deeper. She looked far more dangerous than she had a minute ago. “It’s nothing, Tonks, we’re just discussing how much of old Voldemort’s plans for world domination the public should know,” Harry explained impatiently. “So what’s a Horcrux?” she asked again. “It’s a tiny bit of evil that makes it impossible for you to leave the mortal coil. Unfortunately it also twists you, and makes you become even more evil than you were before. Considering how evil someone has to be to make one in the first place, that’s awful,” Harry explained, much to Hermione’s astonishment. “I see. And that’s how Voldemort kept from dying when he attacked you as a baby?” Tonks asked, as she put the pieces of the puzzle together. Harry nodded. “Yes, and it would be in everyone’s best interest if you just forgot you ever knew,” Harry suggested “So you found and destroyed his Horcrux, and that’s what Hermione wants, for the world to know how you did it?” Tonks continued. “There were six of them actually,” Hermione added. “Harry destroyed five, and Dumbledore one, that’s what happened to his hand before he died.” Tonks turned a rather disgusting shade of green. “Six? If Dumbledore lost his hand destroying just one, how on Earth did you destroy five?” “Sorry, Tonks, but it’s really just better if nobody knows. No offense to you, but the fewer people who know the better.” Hermione huffed a bit, but said nothing. “Okay, Harry, well it just seems like someone in the Auror office should know this stuff, in case it comes up again. Like Hermione said.” “I’ll take it under advisement.” Harry nodded. “But, I made a promise to Dumbledore, and I’ve already said too much.” “Well I’ll have to respect that then.” Tonks nodded. “But just so you know, it’s not Dumbledore’s wisdom that we look to to lead us through dark times anymore.” Harry shrugged. “Who then?” Tonks smiled widely at him. “It’s yours. You’re a little impulsive, but you’re a great wizard, Harry.” Harry blushed deeply, and once again studied the various footwear in the room. Tonks went to him and a kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t worry, Harry, you’ll get used to it.” Harry peeked up at the pretty Auror, who was now back to her original look. “I don’t want that kind of responsibility. I’m no Dumbledore.” “You’ll be great, Harry, we all believe in you. If you ever need some encouragement you just come see Tonks, and I’ll make sure you feel fantastic!” She winked at him saucily. Harry laughed. “You’re terrible.” “Hey, don’t knock it till you’ve tried it!” Tonks chuckled. “One more thing, though, how did you make the snow fly around in circles without hitting the ground?” “Imperturbable charm.” Harry answered. “I cast it on the ground, but I didn’t use as much power with that one. It seemed to work okay, except the air got so filled with snow that you couldn’t see after a few minutes.” Harry grinned a bit. “How far did it go?” Hermione asked still in shock. “About thirty eight kilometers from what we could tell,” Tonks answered. “I, for one, am glad you did it, otherwise I might never have found out you’re up here. But stop messing with the weather, you’re scaring the Muggles.” Harry smiled weakly. “I will.” “Well, since you have already broken out of the house and done so much magic that the Ministry has taken note, I guess I might as well give this back to you.” Hermione handed Harry back his wand. “Thanks.” Harry looked at his wand like an old friend for a moment and then his brow furrowed. “What happened to it?” “I don’t know. It was like that when you came to us. It doesn’t look like you have polished it in a while.” Harry looked at his wand with an astonished expression. Hermione knew he had always really liked his wand; he had taken such good care of it. It was one of his most prized possessions. Maybe he didn’t polish as much as he should have, but still the wood was weathered and cracked. It was chipped around the tip and each end had started to turn grey from wear and lack of care. Nobody said anything for a few minutes while Harry stared at his wand. Harry looked up suddenly, as he came to the realization they were both starting at him, and his cheeks colored a bit. “So, Hermione says you have a son?” Harry said in an apparent attempt restart the conversation and get the topic squarely away from him. “Oh, yes. You never heard? I have a gorgeous son; he’s going to break hearts just like his father.” Tonks positively glowed with happiness. “He was born just a few weeks after you disappeared. He’s terrific; his father through and through. He’s so responsible and intelligent, and he looks just like his dad.” Harry, Tonks and Hermione talked for a while, discussing Tonks’s new job as Senior Auror Liaison to the Minister. In her position, she acted as the Minister’s representative in the Auror office. They also discussed the treatment Hermione was working on with Harry. After a while, Tonks stood up and announced she needed to get back to the office. “Can I come and visit you, Harry?” Harry looked questioningly at Hermione. She quickly answered, “You’re not a prisoner here, Harry. If you want to visit with her, of course Tonks can come and see you.” She turned to Tonks. “Can I talk to you for a minute before you head back?” She quickly gave Tonks the details about Harry’s current condition. Apparently Harry had explained a lot before Hermione had arrived. She asked Tonks not to talk too much about Remus until after they had dealt with those memories, and of course not to tell anyone that Harry was here. Tonks assured her she understood and they embraced before Tonks started her trek back to the Apparition point, so she could get back to London. *** After Tonks left, Harry and Hermione had some tea, and she asked Harry if he was ready to start treatment. He quickly agreed. Hermione got out her Pensieve and some of Harry’s memories and sat down in the sitting room. She walked Harry through some breathing exercises and told him how to build a place in his mind where he was happy. She instructed him to make it a place where he had only the best memories. She had suggested the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts, but Harry had decided on the Burrow. This worried Hermione a bit, as she knew they had some unhappy memories to work with that took place at the Burrow, but Harry didn’t really have many places where he’d always been happy. She instructed him to think of each of the rooms in the Burrow and fill them with all of his happiest memories. When his visited this place in his mind he should be surround by only those things which made him feel safe and content. He started with Hogwarts, but there were too many bad memories there now, so he changed his choice to the Burrow and made note of all his happy memories there. After Harry was relaxed and had a firm grip on his happy memories, they started. “I want to start with some memories from after the war. I think they will tell us some things that we need to know, and it’s possible they aren’t quite as painful.” She tapped the top of the jar with her wand, it unscrewed itself, and she dumped the contents into the Pensieve. She checked her notes, and said, “This is about three years ago.” She looked into the Pensieve and poked the swirling mist with her wand. The mist swirled violently for a moment and then became calm, like glass. “Ready?” Hermione held out her hand. Harry took it, and they bent over until they fell into the Pensieve. Harry felt the familiar mist swirling around them as his stomach turned over, and they were standing in a cave. A dirty, shabby Harry sat in front of them sobbing quietly, tears streaming down his face. “Does this seem familiar at all?” Hermione asked. “I feel like I know this cave, but I don’t really remember it.” Hermione nodded. They watched the memory of Harry cry for a while; it seemed this was the extent of Harry’s memory of this time. “Do you know what you were feeling here?” “No, not really. I looked terrible though, didn’t I?” “A bit. Concentrate, Harry. These are your memories, you should be able to have some feeling of what’s going on.. You should also know what’s going to happen in this memory, kind of a premonition. At least most of my patients seem to interact with the memories that way. The sights, the smells, and everything will work together to trigger your subconscious mind and you will begin to feel like you’ve done this all before. The process isn’t able to remove your subconscious memories, so as you take in the memory detail you may find yourself wondering why you didn’t remember this before. It’s a perfectly natural phenomenon of viewing your own memories in a Pensieve.” Harry concentrated on taking in the ambience of the memory, and trying to remember what he had felt when he’d been here before. He walked over and touched the other Harry, his hand resting on his shoulder, but his former self didn’t flinch or react at all. Harry closed his eyes and tried to feel what he had been feeling during this time. “I’m numb; I’ve been here sitting like this for days. I keep crying every so often, but mostly I just sit here.” Harry felt odd talking about himself in this fashion. “I’m cold, lonely, hungry and miserable” Harry could hardly bear to look at himself like this. He realized that the horrible smell inside the cavern was actually coming from the memory of himself and started to turn a little green, this was what he remembered himself smelling like. Hermione noticed that Harry was beginning to lose his composure and pulled him out of the memory. The spinning as they exited the memory didn’t help Harry’s stomach at all. When his feet hit the floor, he lurched for the bathroom, but after a few steps he keeled over and retched spectacularly on the floor. “Oh, I’m sorry, Harry.” Hermione attempted to get Harry to lie down on the floor. She quickly performed a few cleaning spells on the carpet and then went into the bathroom to get a cold flannel to wipe off Harry’s face. She cleaned him up and ran her fingers through his hair as he lay on the floor. Harry panted a bit and finally muttered. “I never get tired of retching in front of people, do I?” “It’s okay, Harry, you weren’t prepared for seeing yourself in that condition. It’s hard to see yourself when you’re that vulnerable and suffering from despair. The person in the memory was your past, Harry, only your past. You don’t have to be that way anymore; we’re here for you,” Hermione murmured soothingly to Harry as she kept running her hands through his hair, keeping contact with him. After a few minutes, Harry felt better and brushed his teeth and got a drink. Hermione insisted he lay on the couch as they talk about the memory. “I need you to remember that you’re not alone, Harry. As long as you let us in, your friends can give you strength. We don’t judge you. We only want to be your friends.” “Why? I’ve been so terrible to you all. I...” Harry faltered. Hermione cut him off. “Harry, you are the best friend I’ve ever had. You have never been terrible to me. You have worried me sick at times, but I have never doubted your love for me. Ever. Neither has Ron, nor has Ginny, nor have any of your other friends. We know how much you care about us. We know what you would willingly go through and all you have already gone through to protect us. Well, it’s time to stop. No more protecting us. We can take care of ourselves, and now it’s our turn to take care of you,” Hermione finished with passion showing in her eyes. “Hermione?” “Yes?” “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” She patted Harry on the shoulder and went to get some potion to help his stomach settle. *** Harry and Hermione returned to the cave in the memory, and Harry dealt with it much better. Hermione held his hand as they stood and watched his memory of the time in the cave. Finally, Harry was bored with watching himself sitting idly, and Hermione fast forwarded the memory ahead a couple of days. Harry was lying underneath the stars watching them. “What are you looking for?” “The same thing I am always looking for when I stare at the sky like that I suspect,” Harry replied. “You didn’t say what it was, but you seem peaceful here staring at the stars.” “That’s because I can see her, and she always brings me hope,” Harry said, smiling at his past self watching into the stars. He knew full well what his former self was watching; he had been doing it ever since he’d started to fall in love with her. “Harrrrreee,” Hermione whined. “Tell me what you’re looking at.” Harry lay down next to his memory of himself and looked into the sky. He motioned for Hermione to lie down next to him, and she quickly complied. Then he pointed to a constellation of stars that was faint but visible off in the night sky. Hermione followed his hand. “Andromeda?” “Yep,” Harry said and blushed a bit as Hermione turned to look at him. “Why does Andromeda give you hope?” she asked, her tone genuinely curious. This wasn’t Healer Hermione digging for details of Harry’s psyche. This was his friend who was just curious about him. Harry watched the night sky intently for a few moments and then said, “Do you remember the story of Andromeda?” Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment and then said, “I think so. Her mother upset some goddess or another by claiming that she and her daughter were more beautiful than the goddess. I can’t seem to remember the rest.” Harry finished the story for her. “You have the first part mostly right. She was a beautiful young woman who had been sacrificed by her kingdom to a horrible sea monster in order to appease an angry powerful being. She was rescued by man that had spent his childhood in exile, with gifts that allowed him to fly and be invisible, and had a penchant for slaying monsters. He fell in love with her, and they were married. It has a reasonably happy ending for Greek mythology.” Harry was blushing furiously now, and refusing to look at Hermione. She was smiling at him impishly with a twinkle in her eye. “So, watching the constellation Andromeda makes you think of Ginny.” “Right in one.” Harry smiled and kept watching the night sky. “It was hard to see Andromeda from Surrey, but it didn’t matter the last summer I was home. I spent hours laying in the grass at the park, looking up at the sky seeing the faint lights I knew made up Andromeda. It always gave me hope that I would slay the monster, and we would live happily ever after.” Harry’s face was now glowing so brightly he was surprised that they could still see the stars. “That’s wonderful, Harry. I’m not sure I have ever heard you explain yourself so eloquently.” Hermione stood up and when Harry had had enough they fast forwarded through the memory. They found Harry in a variety of locations but always alone and generally looking disconsolate and devastated. Hermione eventually pulled them out of the memory, and once more they stood in the sitting room of the cabin. She and Harry talked about the memories in the Pensieve and what they meant. Hermione coached Harry on how to deal with the feelings in the memory, and how to use the peaceful place he had created in his mind to combat the bad thoughts the memories provoked. “Okay Harry, I think it’s time we put that memory back into your consciousness,” Hermione stated professionally. Harry nodded but said nothing. “Do you want me to put it in for you, or do you want to do it?” “I’ll do it,” Harry responded more harshly than he intended. “All right then,” Hermione replied. “Sorry, I just..” Harry trailed off. “It’s fine Harry, this isn’t supposed to be easy, I’m just trying to help,” Hermione assured him. He then poked his wand into the Pensieve, and the memory began to swirl around the wand as he held it in place. He lifted the writhing mist to his temple and started to absorb it. After it absorbed into his mind, Harry sat stiffly in his chair, an odd expression on his face. “It’s odd. I feel like I should be able to remember more, but I only have a few images of what we saw. It’s mostly old feelings.” “We don’t recall most memories in vivid detail, Harry, even after looking at them in a Pensieve. When you put them back into your brain, you will have a slightly updated view of it, and maybe a little more detail, but you shouldn’t recall too much at all unless something triggers one of those specific memories. It’s similar to looking at a photograph. It can give your memory some added detail, but it doesn’t make your memory that much better than it ever was. There are some techniques for improving one’s memory through using a Pensieve, but I think we have enough ground to cover with just helping you learn to remember them constructively.” “What’s next?” “That one is enough for today, if you do well with that one, we will try and do more tomorrow,” Hermione responded. “Hermione, we will never get through all my memories if we go at this rate!” “It won’t take that long, Harry. When I feel you’re ready, we will be able to go much faster, but let’s just be careful for now.” Harry muttered to himself, but chose not to argue with her. He was tired of being treated like an invalid. However, he did remember what he saw in the Pensieve, and he didn’t want to become that pile of useless despair again so he spent the rest of the day polishing his wand and talking to Hedwig. The visit from Tonks kept his spirit from dipping too low, and by the time he could get his wand fixed up, he thought things were sure to be all right. *** After breakfast the next morning Hermione quickly got out the Pensieve and a jar of memories. She had Harry work on some breathing exercises and on clearing his mind. After a few minutes, they swirled their way into his memories. His feet landed on the ground, and he knew they were in the memory, but it was pitch black. Harry couldn’t see or feel anything around himself, including Hermione. He heard her voice call out for him. “Harry?” “I’m here.” “Where?” “I don’t know, somewhere.” “Can you see?” “Nope, not a thing. I take it you can’t either?” “The ground is kind of soft and squishy, but that’s the only thing I can really sense. There is no smell at all. It’s almost more disturbing than not being able to see.” “Do you think I’m asleep?” “No, the Pensieve is only able to show us memories you were conscious for. To remember your dreams you have to use a crystal device, but it’s hard to learn how to do it properly. You must be awake, but you have no memory of seeing, hearing, or smelling anything, just that the ground was kind of squishy apparently,” Hermione answered authoritatively, but the doubt was evident in her voice. “Let’s go forward a bit, and see if we can figure it out.” She forwarded through the memory a bit, but when she stopped it was still pitch black. “There seems to be something wrong with this memory, I’ve never encountered this before. Let’s go back to the sitting room, and maybe we can see something by looking into the Pensieve.” “Okay.” A moment later they were standing in the sitting room once again. “That was really weird,” she concluded. “Definitely. Any ideas?” “Well, let’s take a look.” Hermione poked the mist in the Pensieve; it swirled quickly and then smoothed out to a glassy surface. As she peered into the mist she saw only darkness; nothing else at all was visible. “I wonder where you were?” she asked finally. “I dunno,” Harry replied cleverly. “Let’s try a different jar,” Hermione suggested and started to get up. “Maybe we should put these back in my head and see what I remember,” Harry countered. “I want to understand them better before we try that. I really have never seen anything like that,” she replied as she wandered back into the hallway to go get another jar. “This one is from a few weeks after that one.” She chased the odd memory back into its jar and then released the new memory. She poked the mist again, and after it stopped swirling, she peered down into the Pensieve. “Ah, that’s better, let’s go.” They tumbled down in the memory and landed in a peaceful grove of fir trees. They looked around, but Harry’s former self was no where to be found. “Do you suppose that I’m invisible?” Harry asked finally. “You must be. I guess you learned some sort of Invisibility charm. We didn’t learn any until seventh year at Hogwarts, and even then the ones they teach only last for a few minutes at best. Most people could barely do them at all.” “Where is my cloak? Do you suppose I had it with me?” “No, it’s packed away with the rest of your school things at Grimmauld Place,” Hermione answered. They stood and waited for about fifteen minutes, but Harry never appeared. It was pretty there. A gentle breeze swooped through the trees and there was the sound of birds chirping in their branches. They couldn’t feel the sun, but they could see how warm and beautiful it was. It was really a very pleasant memory; it just didn’t seem to contain Harry. Hermione finally forwarded to another memory where it also appeared that Harry was missing. They were standing in a field of tall grass. The air was still and in all directions not a soul was to be seen. They stood in the field for about ten minutes when a violent rustling started off to their right. They had just headed to investigate when a field mouse zipped by their feet followed closely by a bright orange fox. They watched as the mouse zipped by, twisting and turning to try and avoid capture. Just as it appeared the fox had the advantage, a small goshawk dove out of the sky and flew off with the mouse. The fox looked around dejectedly for a moment and then trotted off into the weeds. “That was amazing!” Hermione squeaked. “It was pretty cool; a little tough for the fox, I’d say.” Harry nodded. “Where do you suppose you’re watching this from?” “I don’t know. Somewhere hidden, so I wouldn’t spook the fox I guess.” They stood in the field a while longer but nothing much more than the gentle rustling of the grass in the breeze occurred, and Hermione eventually gave up and forwarded to another memory. Harry was sitting on a hilltop that looked down on a village. The village was quite far away, but with the rough terrain and narrow roads it appeared they were somewhere in Scotland. “Do you know where we are?” “On a hilltop, above a village,” Harry answered. Hermione poked him. “Prat.” “Ow! You’re abusing your patient! Someone help me! My Healer’s gone mental!” Harry shouted. “I’ll show you mental.” Hermione began to tickle and poke him in earnest as Harry attempted to fend her off. “Hey, gerroff.” Harry chuckled. Soon he was laughing too hard to mount an appropriate defense and started to run away from her. The confines of the memory were fairly tight as Harry was staring intently at the village. Harry finally drug Hermione to the ground in self defense. They were giggling and wrestling like teenagers except neither had ever really played like this as teenagers. Hermione had been too serious, and Harry, well, Harry was Harry. He never had brothers or sisters to wrestle with, and he never had a real girlfriend. His relationships had always been short lived and somewhat futile. The only girl he’d ever been this playful with was Ginny and they had only dated for a month, while Ginny had been attempting to study for O.W.L.S. Hermione and Harry lay panting on the hill, both smiling and giggling. Harry was thinking about how much fun it had been to roughhouse playfully with Hermione. “Hermione?” “Yes?” “Did you ever want a brother or sister?” “Whenever I saw families that were really close like the Weasleys I did, but now that I’m married to Ron, I have tons of brothers and sisters. It’s not exactly the same, but I still appreciate them very much, and I never had to worry about them going through my things or nicking my stuff. But until I met you and Ron, I never really had any real friends. I always wanted a sister that I could confide in and get advice from,” she said somewhat whimsically. “I think it would have made figuring some things out easier, but I did have Ginny. She was my only real girlfriend for such a long time and still is really. We have girl nights with Fleur and Tonks occasionally, but neither of us are as close to them as we are to each other, and neither of us has many close friends outside the family. What about you, Harry, did you ever want a brother or sister?” “Pretty much every day of my life I have wondered what it would be like to have someone like that. I grew up with Dudley, of course, but we were never like brothers, at least not the kind of brother I think about.” He smiled. “I always kind of wondered what it would be like to have a sister, but when we were in school, I think it was at the Yule Ball in fourth year, I figured it out. You were a better sister than I had a right to ask for. You looked out for me, and you made me do my homework. You gave me good advice, and sometimes I even followed it. It was night of the ball when Ron was jealous of you and Victor, and I realized that I wasn’t jealous of Victor. I was proud of you. How elegant you were, what a good dancer you were. The feelings I had towards Victor weren’t jealousy. I was more worried that you might get hurt being involved with someone from so far away and very concerned that you would hurt Ron. He was such a git that year, but still he was my best mate.” Tears were leaking down Hermione’s face. Lying there on the hill where an unmoving Harry stared stoically at a village that was not his home. “Harry, thanks for that,” she finally murmured quietly. “Well, the point of all this is to say, I’m sorry that I spent the last seven years sitting in caves and on distant hilltops, while you were back home worried about me. I don’t know who that guy is sitting so quietly over there staring at a village. He looks like me, but frankly, I think he’s a bit of a nutter,” Harry finished lightly. “You don’t have to apologize to me, Harry. I wish you had brought me with you, or more realistically, that you hadn’t felt the need to be out here alone.” They had been so involved with each other, that neither of them had noticed the man walking up behind Harry. The Harry in the memory hadn’t noticed the man either. “Hello, there! Good evenin’.” The Harry in the memory stood up, spun around, and drew his wand in one motion. Seeing no danger, Harry of the memory quickly pocketed his wand and looked curiously at the man for a moment as if trying to formulate the proper reply. “Hello,” he said finally in a voice raspy from disuse. The man gave him a slightly imperious look and asked, “Mind if I ask what yer doing here?” Harry seemed to have no response to this direct question, and so he said nothing; he simply stood there. “My name’s Leith Bryson, and I own this land, and I would like to know why yer standing on it,” the man said in a tone several notches below cordial. “I, uh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb anything,” Harry said while backing away from the large, broad-shouldered man. “How did you come to be here? I don’t recognize you from the village.” “No, I’m not from the village; I was just looking at it. It’s peaceful.” Hermione and Harry watched the situation deteriorate between the two men. “So where did ye come from? You have an auto near here, or a lorry?” “No, no auto. I really am sorry to have upset you; I’ll go.” Bryson closed the distance between them quickly, and Harry winced, expecting a blow. Bryson grabbed him by the shoulder and said, “I won’t have you out here stealing my sheep.” But, even as he said it, he seemed to deflate. The young man in front of him was skin and bones. He was wearing some sort of robe that hid the slight form, but as Bryson grabbed him, he was clearly surprised by Harry’s frailty. “What are ye doing out here, boy? Yer not dressed for this climate. It will be darn cold in a few hours. If you don’t have an auto how are you going to get somewhere fer the night? It’s a three hour walk ter the village,” the man said in a significantly gentler tone. “From the feel if ye, I don’t think ye’ve got it in you.” “I’ll manage. I am truly sorry to have upset you, sir,” Harry replied quietly and turned to start walking toward the village. “Tabb’d have me head if I let ye wander off dressed like that with no way ter get to the village,” the man said more to himself than to Harry. Harry continued wandering away from the man. “Hey, what’s yer name?” Bryson called out. “Harry,” he responded, turning briefly. Bryson walked towards Harry, and Hermione and the current Harry followed him as he took off after Harry. His steps were twice as big as Harry’s, and he quickly caught up to him. “Why don’t you come by the house for dinner tonight? You look like you could use a good meal.” “I can’t, but thank you so much. I really need to go,” Harry said quickly. “Hogwash. You were sittin’ on that hill fer at least a half an hour. I thought you was a dog at first. When I got closer, I realized you were too big ter be a dog, and I’d better have a look see. But you didn’ seem to have no place ter be till I asked you why you was here. We’re a friendly lot, and frankly my wife’ll kill me, ter tell ya the truth, if I let a hungry young man walk all the way back ter the village to get his dinner.” Bryson chuckled as he said this last part and put an arm on Harry’s shoulder. Harry quelled at his touch, and Bryson looked at him concerned. “I ain’t going ter hurt ya, lad. Just want to make sure ya get a good meal since you came ter visit an all.” He smiled down at Harry. Harry looked up at him, he barely came up to the man’s chest, and smiled. Bryson used his hand on Harry’s shoulder to guide him steadily but gently back along the path towards his home. He attempted to chat with Harry, but while Harry was very polite, he provided no useful information about himself. When they reached the little stone cottage Harry was surprised at how simple the man’s home was. Around their quaint yard, Harry could see a chicken coop and small barn, with a farm lorry parked next to it. Out beside the house were rows and rows of vegetables. They stepped inside the quaint little cottage and into a home that was even smaller on the inside than it had looked on the outside. “Evening, my beautiful Tabby. I brought a spare fer dinner. I hope you don’t mind.” Harry and Hermione followed the mismatched pair into the slightly dilapidated building, and stood off to the side. “A spare? Oh, a guest! How nice to meet you!” A middle aged woman with sandy blonde hair with just a bit of grey and a beaming smile walked over to Harry. “It’s so very nice to meet you. Where did you come from? Were you in town, Leith?” “No, I found him over on the south hill watching the village. No warm clothes, no car, and apparently no way to get back to the village but a long walk,” Leith finished. “Oh, well, now. That just won’t do. You look like you’ve been out there for days. What’s your name?” “Harry.” “It’s nice to meet you, Harry. I’m Tabitha Bryson. What’s your last name, dear?” “Potter, Ma’am.” “Oh, we don’t stand on formalities here. You can call me Tabby. Well, come sit down. It will be a bit before dinner.” Suddenly the most beautiful girl Harry had ever seen walked out of one of the back rooms of the house. She had very light brown, almost blonde hair, with just a hint of strawberry in it. She gave the young man wearing dirty robes with a dirty face an odd look. Harry from the memory, Harry from the present, and Hermione all stood dumbstruck looking at the gorgeous girl. “Oh, Kyla. There you are. Come meet our guest. This is Harry Potter.” “Nice to meet you,” Kyla said shyly and extended her hand to Harry. Harry, suddenly realizing he was filthy and probably quite smelly, didn’t want to take her hand. He didn’t want to get her dirty. But, it seemed quite rude to just leave her hand out there, so he shook it as quickly as he could and took an interest in his trainers, suddenly fascinated by how worn out they were. Tabitha indicated Harry should have a seat and headed back for the small kitchen. Harry looked stupidly at the small sofa for a minute and then continued to stand. Kyla cocked her head to the side and smiled prettily at Harry. “Is there a problem?” “Er, I don’t want to get your furniture dirty,” Harry mumbled, his face positively scarlet. “Oh, dear.” Tabitha said from across the room behind the kitchen island. “I dare say you can’t hurt the sofa.” Harry decided to make the best of it and sat on the floor instead. Tabitha and Kyla watched him with interest; Leith with a bit of amusement. “Why don’t you go get yourself cleaned up, lad. There’s a bathroom just through there and around the corner. It will be a few minutes before we have dinner, and a hot bath might make you feel better.” “This is all I have,” a clearly humiliated Harry said, waving at his robe pathetically. He thought it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to do a cleaning charm on his robes while he was in the bathroom in what was clearly a house full of Muggles. “Oh, that’s no problem. Kyla go see if you can’t dig some of Jack’s old things out of the trunk in your cupboard. I think there should be something suitable in there.” As a group they shooed Harry into the bathroom and told him to take as long as he wanted; Leith would bring his some clothes. Harry turned on the water and got undressed slowly and very self consciously. He looked at himself in the mirror for the first time in a few years and was shocked by what he saw. He looked terrible. He was pale and drawn, his bones poked out of his skin everywhere. He skin was slightly jaundiced. The nicks and scars from his final battle with Voldemort had healed raggedly because they had never been treated. He had a scraggly beard that didn’t suit him. He couldn’t believe these people would take him into their home when he looked like this. Harry found a razor in the cabinet and reasoned that finding one was good enough. He could say he’d used it anyway. He tapped his face with a shaving charm and his beard disappeared. What it left behind was an almost translucently pale face. Harry was sickened by the purple veins showing through his skin, and the cracks and wrinkles that had formed on his face from lack of care. Even alone in the bathroom it was making him blush. At least when he blushed he looked a little less pale. Present day Hermione was parked outside the bathroom door. Hermione had begun to follow Harry into the bathroom, saying she could be “professional” about it, but Harry had insisted that some things just didn’t need to be analyzed. She stood there until Kyla came out of her room with a small bundle of clothing which she handed to her father. Leith opened the door slightly, excusing himself, and put the pile of clothes on the counter. He saw a small pile of all Harry’s possessions laid out on the counter: a change purse with a broken clasp, an odd and overly worn picture of a red headed teenager, a broken pocket knife, and an oddly worn stick. Leith gathered up the boys dirty clothes and took them into the utility room off the kitchen for washing. Harry emerged a short while later to find the family gathered around the table talking quietly. They stopped whispering as soon as he appeared, and all three smiled at him. He blushed, knowing that they had been discussing him. He at least felt better and looked a little better. “Dinner’s ready, dear, have a seat.” Tabitha smiled sweetly and got up to fetch the meal from the oven. “It’s shepherd’s pie, dear, I hope that’s all right.” Kyla groaned. “That sounds brilliant! It’s one of my favorites,” Harry piped up. Kyla stuck her tongue out at him, and he gave her a shy smile. “You fancy her!” a clearly shocked and outraged Hermione fumed. “I do not!” Harry responded defensively, but he did think she was beautiful, and she seemed very nice. Hermione regained her composure quickly. “It’s okay that you fancy her, Harry. I was just surprised. It normally takes you forever to warm up to anyone.” “I don’t remember exactly what I felt,” Harry lied. “But I’ve only known her a half an hour; I’m sure I didn’t fancy her.” They turned their attention back to the conversation at the table, where Mrs. Bryson was attempting to wheedle information out of Harry by plying him with good food and mead. “So where are you from, Harry?” “Surrey.” “Interesting. That’s a long way from Kilmartin. How did you come to be up here with no traveling kit?” “It’s a long story,” Harry said uncomfortably. “Well, we got a good bit of evening in front of us. Why don’t you tell us your story, Harry?” Leith said helpfully. “It’s not really a happy story,” Harry added hoping they might relent. “What did you do in Surrey?” Kyla asked, giving Harry a conspiratorial smile, letting him know she was helping him change subject. “Er, I was kind of a soldier,” Harry tried. “Really? You don’t seem the type, lad,” Leith said sincerely. “Well, I wasn’t a normal soldier; I fought against some terrorists. I really can’t say too much about it,” Harry finished lamely. The family exchanged knowing glances while Harry stared at his plate. Harry and Hermione watched as the family exchanged glances, and came to the wrong conclusions. They obviously though that Harry had worked as some sort of spy, and that was why he wouldn’t talk about it, and was able to survive on his own, with so few supplies. “Do you have any family back home in Surrey?” Tabitha asked. “Sort of. I lived with my aunt, uncle and cousin until I was seventeen, then we parted ways for good. We were all glad not to have to live together anymore.” Harry was getting increasingly uncomfortable with the questions. “Why was that?” Kyla asked, eyeing him with peaked curiosity. She seemed honestly interested in why his aunt, uncle and cousin had not wanted him? She continued to shoot him friendly glances, and small smiles. “Well they felt they got stuck with me when my parents died, and they didn’t appreciate that much. They didn’t really take very good care of me, so I didn’t enjoy living there. I went to boarding school when I was eleven; it was the best thing that ever happened to me,” Harry answered sincerely. Harry felt Hermione squeeze his hand in support as they watched the memory. . They continued to question Harry about his past and where he had been. After dinner they surreptitiously discussed Harry, as they roved out apparent ear shot. As they talked among themselves Harry and Hermione had followed them listening to what they said. Their apparent conclusions were that he was highly educated but unfamiliar with some of the basics of life. He had lived with his aunt and uncle until he was seventeen and then joined the military at a very young age where he had soon become a spy. He had fought against terrorists, probably in the Middle East after those terrible events around the turn of the century. He was obviously suffering from post traumatic stress disorder, but since he was highly trained in survival skills he was living off the land as a drifter. It certainly wasn’t an unfamiliar story. Many soldiers had difficulty adjusting to normal life after facing the horrors of war. Harry had seen their thoughts go off track, but he didn’t feel he could correct them without telling them things he wasn’t prepared to. It wasn’t that far off from the truth after all. After dinner, Leith and Tabitha insisted that Harry spend the night. They couldn’t offer him much, just an old camp bed, but it was free and warm. Harry was hesitant to accept, but they were such nice people, and someplace warm to sleep did sound good. They set up his camp bed, and Leith pulled him aside. “Er, Harry, I could use your help tomorrow, if you’re interested. I can’t afford to pay you much, mind, but I would pay you. I have some jobs around here that require more than one person, and since Jack left, well, it’s been a bit of a chore finding people willing to help.” “Uh, sure. I mean, you don’t have to pay me; you have already been so nice. I would be willing to help you tomorrow.” Leith and Tabitha said goodnight and left Harry to his camp bed in the sitting room. Harry was just getting up to turn out the lights when Kyla emerged from her bedroom in her dressing gown, holding a small board. “Hi, Harry. Fancy a game of Cribbage?” “Cribbage?” Harry asked confused. Kyla held up a small board filled with holes. “You know Cribbage?” “I’m sorry, but I don’t know that game.” Harry blushed. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. I’ll just teach you how to play and then you’ll know,” she said succinctly. She flashed Harry a dazzling smile, and he suddenly seemed very interested in Cribbage. “Yeah, sure. Is it very hard?” “Oh, no, it’s a very easy game.” They sat down across from one another and Kyla explained the rules. Harry picked them up quite quickly, and they started to play, but it quickly became obvious that Harry was behind in strategy, because she beat him soundly the first game. “Well, I guess you mean the game is easy for you,” Harry smiled sheepishly. “Oh, you did very well for your first time. You’ll pick it up,” she assured him. “Besides, there is a lot of luck involved. I like to play, but I don’t get to very much since Jack left. Dad will play with me sometimes, but they don’t like to play games much.” “Who’s Jack? You’ve all mentioned him at some point this evening,” Harry inquired. “Oh sorry, Jack’s my brother. He left home for the city a couple of years ago. He wanted to find a job and make some money so he could be more than a farm hand all his life. He doesn’t write home much, and he hasn’t been back at all since he left. He was my only real friend, so it’s been kind of lonely here since he left, we all miss him,” Kyla answered melancholy causing her voice to crack slightly. “You do seem like you would have trouble finding companionship,” Harry teased. “Why?” Kyla said taken aback, a hurt look on her face. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, I was just teasing. You don’t seem like you would have trouble convincing someone to pay attention to you,” Harry explained. Kyla blushed so deeply he thought all of the blood in her body must have gone to her head all at once. She visibly fought to get her features under control. But she smiled hugely at Harry. “Really? Do you think I’m pretty?” she asked bluntly, keeping eye contact with Harry through her embarrassment. Harry, however, wasn’t able to maintain eye contact. He looked away and studied the floor before he answered unevenly, “I don’t think there’s any question.” Kyla’s smile never wavered. “Let’s play again!” she said excitedly, changing the subject, allowing Harry to once again look her in the face. They played several more games before they tired, one or the other would yawn, quickly followed by the other. Finally, Harry said, “I better get to bed. I promised your dad some help tomorrow, and I won’t be much good to him if I’m exhausted.” “Okay, thanks for playing, Harry!” She touched him gently on the hand as she was picking up the board and cards. “Goodnight, ” she said as she wandered back to the short hallway. “Goodnight, Kyla. That was fun. Thanks a lot,” Harry responded. *** Hermione and Harry watched parts of the next few days. Harry stayed with the Brysons and helped out around the farm. Leith was quite happy to have the help, although it was obvious he was concerned about the cost of having a hired man around. During the day, they worked hard; Harry was helping to build a fence on part of their land. Leith was amazed at the amount of work Harry could do in a day. Harry failed to mention it was because every time Leith left him alone he would use magic to speed up the process. Harry learned to help sheer sheep and how to milk a cow. He found this to be an extremely odd process, but the Brysons had no other regular access to milk. It seemed they didn’t go into town very often unless they had something to sell. Harry and Kyla would play cards every evening, sometimes before and sometimes after her parents went to bed. Her parents obviously knew they were staying up late, but they never said anything. Harry was having a better time than he had had in years, and it showed. In just a few days, he started looking healthier. Harry reported to Hermione that when he sensed his feelings, his mind seemed less numb, and they noticed that smiles and laughing seemed to coming easier for him. Harry seemed an entirely new man since the Brysons had taken him in. On the third night, Kyla didn’t come out of her room in her dressing gown. Instead, she came out wearing jeans and a heavy jumper, holding two jackets. She handed one to Harry and said, “Get dressed; I’ll be back in a minute.” She left and went back to her room. Harry was intrigued and little frightened. Kyla was apparently expecting them to leave the house, and he didn’t know how Leith and Tabitha would take to having their daughter cavorting around outside their house in the middle of the night with a virtual stranger. He didn’t know what do about it other than flat out refusing. He quickly put on the pair of jeans they had given him, and the heaviest jumper they had loaned him that he wore when they went out in the mornings to work. He picked up the jacket she had left for him. It was a little snug, and an odd shade of purple. Kyla came back out of her bedroom and gestured for him to keep quiet. She walked directly to the door and unbolted it and gestured silently for Harry to follow her. Harry walked out the door behind her. They closed the door and walked out into the moonlight. They trudged in silence for a bit before either said anything. Harry broke the silence first. “So where we headed?” he asked. “Not far. Just to the top of that little hill there. It’s better for watching the stars,” she answered. After they got up to the top of the hill, she pulled out a threadbare blanket she had hidden under her arm and laid it on the tall grass that covered the hill. She flattened it out the best she could and then sat down. She patted the blanket next to her. It was a little difficult to see her in the moonlight, but Harry caught the gesture and sat down with some slight trepidation. “I like to come out sometimes at night and watch the stars. They’re so pretty, and as you’ve seen, there isn’t much to do on the farm at night,” she chattered. “I enjoy watching them, too,” Harry said, lying back and looking up at the sky. “Do you know much about them? I’ve never studied them. My brother taught me some of their names, but he didn’t know too much, either. It’s hard to get much of an education out here. “I know a bit about the stars, yes,” Harry answered modestly. “Show me.” “Show you what?” “Tell me about the stars,” she said as she laid back and put her head very close to Harry’s. Harry paused a minute and then started describing the different constellations and formations, showing her where to look for them. He had been going nonstop for about forty five minutes when she stopped him. “Wow, Harry. This is incredible. How do you know all this?” “Er, astronomy was covered at the school I attended,” Harry answered carefully. “Oh, what else did you study?” Kyla asked, hanging on Harry’s every word. “The usual stuff. History, some chemistry, you know.” How to turn objects into animals, and vice versa, Harry thought to himself, grinning. “Do you know a lot of history then?” she asked conversationally. “It’s my very worst subject. I actually slept through one of my final exams,” Harry chuckled. “You didn’t!” Kyla said scandalized. “I wasn’t feeling my best that day,” Harry answered, obviously remembering the dark events that followed that test. “Oh, poor thing.” She reached over and stroked his hair. It was something that only Ginny and Molly Weasley had ever done. Harry enjoyed it immensely, but it gave him goosebumps, and after a minute, he started to get uncomfortable with it. Harry sat up. “Don’t you think we should be getting back?” “Probably, but I’m enjoying it out here with you,” she cooed. “So am I, but your father will probably rip my arms off if he catches me out here with you,” Harry said lightly. “Why? Are you planning on taking advantage of me?” she asked throatily. “No!” Harry said quickly “I just don’t want him to get the wrong impression.” “Which impression is that?” “That I can’t keep my hands to myself,” Harry answered quickly. Kyla huffed as she stood up. “Well, all right, if you’re worried about a little thing like getting your arms ripped off.” “I see. It wouldn’t bother you at all?” Harry chided. “Well, they really aren’t doing me a whole lot of good at the moment,” she said in and exasperated tone, as she folded up the blanket. However, her lips were upturned into a small smile as she teased Harry. Harry took the blanket from her as they walked back to the house. Kyla wrapped her arm around Harry’s as they walked, leaning a bit into his shoulder. After they entered the house Kyla unzipped Harry’s jacket and took it back from him. She put the blanket and the jacket down and gave Harry a very brief hug. She looked up into his eyes and mouthed, “Thank you,” and then picked up the blanket and her jackets and wandered back to her room. Harry lay down on the cot and was quiet for a bit. Thoughts were dancing behind his eyes while he stared unseeingly at the ceiling. Finally, Harry nodded off, and Harry and Hermione felt a familiar swirl as they landed in the cabin’s sitting room. A/N:There has been some slight concern with Tonks being out of character by flirting with Harry here. My particular take on Tonks is that she would flirt with anyone that she liked enough to tease. In this particular story, Tonks is a very successful confident woman who happens to think Harry is the ‘bees knees’. That said she likes to tease him mercilessly and she does that by flirting with him in an outrageously over the top manner. She isn’t looking for an actual relationship with Harry, she loves him dearly, but her goal in life it prop up Harry’s ego, while having some fun with him. Keep in mind that Tonks lost almost as much as Harry in the war, and she relates to him fairly well. She has no family left to speak of, other than her son (her parents were killed off page during the war,) and she isn’t very far down on the list of people who missed Harry the most during his prolonged absence. The second point is the conversation between Kyla and Harry. He is not flirting with her, even if she takes it that way. Harry is a very genuine guy, and he hurt her feels, and swallows his pride a bit to give her an honest answer that she should view herself as desirable. Yes she took it for more than it was, but Harry’s charm is always accidental. I hope you’re all enjoying the story. Thank you, to those of you who have left reviews. Your comments mean a great deal. Sorry for the long wait between chapters. If you haven’t noticed yet, I’m brevity challenged. It makes a lot of work for the poor proofreaders and betas. They are hanging in there though, and I know you all appreciate their work as much as I do.
|