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Author: legobean Story: Harry Potter and the Toll of Destiny Rating: Teens Status: WIP Reviews: 13 Words: 169,577
Disclaimer: A wake up call for all of you who are reading this story on a fan fiction web site and haven't figured this out yet. Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling. If this comes as a surprise to you I have to wonder just why it is you're reading this. If you're curious I made no profit from this chapter, and my dog had to go hungry.
When their feet hit the floor neither said anything for a several seconds. Finally, after a long, uncomfortable pause, Hermione blustered, "Well, that was interesting!" "Er, yeah, I suppose. They seemed nice," Harry replied quietly. "Nice? They were wonderful! I think that Kyla has a bit of a crush on you," she teased. "Yeah, that was weird." Harry nodded. "Why is it weird?" Hermione asked with concern. "Well, she had only known me for a couple of days, and I looked terrible, especially when I showed up. Why would she have fancied me?" Harry asked. "Once you got cleaned up a bit, you were still your handsome self. You're interesting and mysterious, and you have a cute smile. You are well educated, polite, and you have reasonably decent manners. I think it's obvious why she likes you." "But she'd only known me three days!" Harry argued. "I was a tramp; how could her parents take me in when they had a daughter like that?" "Three days is enough to know if you like someone. I'm not saying she was in love with you or anything, just fascinated by you and letting you know she was interested. I don't think she had a lot of experience with men." "How can you tell?" "Things she said, the way she blushed like mad when you told her she was pretty. She should have heard that enough times by that age, to have been used to it even, but it looked like the first time she's ever heard anyone say it. Of course you're not much better," Hermione said flatly. "We were in there forever; I'm starved. Are you hungry?" Harry realized that they had been in the Pensieve most of the day and completely missed lunch. "Yeah, I could eat a hippogriff. What do you mean I'm not better? I was fine, she didn't cry, and I don't think I hurt her feelings at all," Harry said. "Well, when you were walking she kept brushing her hand against the back of yours trying to get you to take it, and you just ignored her. She was fishing for compliments a ton of times while you were playing cards, and you didn't say anything. She flirted with you continuously while you were helping her gather eggs in the chicken coop, and I'm not sure you even noticed. Oh, let's just put this memory back in and get some dinner. I can't think with my stomach rumbling." As if to prove her point, her stomach rumbled loudly. Harry swirled the memory around his wand and put it back in his head. He blinked mutely for a few moments, and then when he felt normal again, he and Hermione walked into the kitchen. "I think you're off it, Hermione. I mean, I have the memories here in my head, and they are pretty clear, and I don't remember half that stuff." Hermione gave Harry a knowing smile and uttered under her breath, "Boys!" Harry smiled back, and muttered, "Girls. They're all mental!" "Being able to understand normal social interaction does not make us mental!" Hermione stared at Harry reproachfully. "Normal? We were just talking; there wasn't anything going on!" Harry retorted. "Harry, honestly! How on Earth did you ever make it through school? When you were playing cards she repeatedly touched your hand, touched you on the arm, or nudged you with her foot. She was inviting you to touch her back, to be playful, but you sat across the table like a statue. When you went out to the chicken coop, she told you how strong you were, even though you hadn't done anything that would have made her notice your strength, how pretty your eyes were, how she liked the way your hair refused to cooperate with you. She complimented you on your worldliness, and how collecting chicken eggs must be such a bore to you. Any one of these thing might just be a compliment, but when she says all of them in the course of a few minutes, she's flirting! She made sure to stand where you could see her; she played with her hair. She kept brushing it out of her face, so you could see her smiling. She did everything but actually say the words, 'Harry, please tell me you like me', but you were oblivious!" Harry was startled. "You saw all that in my memory? That's not the way I remember it." "What do you mean that's not how you remember it? It was your memory!" Hermione's eyes flashed a bit in her exasperation. "I mean, she actually felt your bicep, then she told you how strong you were and purred at you. Did you need her to hand you a note that said, 'Harry, I like you. Wouldn't you like to take me out?'" "Er, Hermione, are you upset that I didn't take up with that girl?" Harry asked, his brow slightly furrowed. Dobby brought dinner over to the table and bowed to them and wandered back towards the door of the kitchen. "Thanks, Dobby!" they chimed in unison. "Always happy to serve Madam and Sir!" he squeaked and passed through the door out of the kitchen. "We don't know if anything ever became of that girl or not. I don't know why it upset me. It's not like you being thick around women is new," she said viciously. "I don't.... I wouldn't have...." Harry trailed off for a second. "Do you think?" "I don't know. Part of me hopes you would have, but given the state you were in when you came to us, it's hard to imagine that you got too serious with her," Hermione said, smiling much more kindly at him for the first time in several minutes. "I just hope you didn't hurt her feelings too badly with all your blockheadedness." Harry thought about this and was suddenly glum. "I hope not; she was nice." They finished dinner discussing some of the less controversial aspects of the memory and speculated on how long Harry had stayed with the Brysons. As they settled in the sitting room, Hermione suggested they start on another memory. Harry agreed to give it go. After she dumped the contents of the jar into the Pensieve, she announced, "This is from about a year and a half after you disappeared." When their feet hit the ground in the memory, they saw a much younger yet more haunted-looking Harry walking through a grove of trees. He was muttering to himself, but it was unintelligible. They followed as close behind him as they could, but it was difficult as Harry wasn't really watching where he was going. His clothes, already torn and tattered, were catching on the underbrush, but he didn't seem to notice or care. Suddenly the wooded glen ended, and Harry was across the street from a small shopping center. There was a corner shop, a petrol station and a small pub all lined up along the road. Harry took off his robe and balled it up beneath his arm. He was wearing a jumper and jeans; they were both fairly clean, and Harry checked himself up and down. His shoes were a mess, but they were at least different shoes from the other memories they had witnessed. Harry blasted each of them with a quick Scourgify; the old trainers looked a bit cleaner, but the holes looked about the same. The Harry in the memory shrugged and walked across the roadway and into the pub, followed quickly by Harry and Hermione. Harry sat down at a table, and the other Harry and Hermione sat down across from him to watch. A sassy waitress, just a few years older than Harry, wearing a short skirt and a top from the pub hurried over to Harry's table. "Hey, luv, how's my favorite customer?" She dropped a bowl of crisps on the table. "You know me," Harry said with a small smile. "Yes, I certainly do. So you're fine." She gave Harry a cheeky smile. "So, when are you finally going to take me away from all this, Harry?" She waved casually around the small pub, at which Harry was one of just three customers. "I can't take you away from all this. Where would I eat?" Harry responded with a larger grin. "I suspect the same place you eat all the other days you don't stop by to see me." She winked at him. "The usual then?" "Yes, Ms Wilson," Harry replied. "Harry, how many times have I told you not to call me Ms?" "Sorry, Clara, it won't happen again," Harry said guiltily. "Oh, you always say that," she teased. "I'll have your steak and kidney pie out in just a minute. Enjoy your crisps, Harry." She gave him a big smile and turned and swished away. Harry turned to Hermione and said, "Now she likes me, and she was flirting; I could tell." Hermione rolled her eyes. "She works for tips, Harry. There are only two other customers in here right now. She'd like you if you were Gregory Goyle." "But..." Harry said lamely. "But nothing. She may or may not really like you, but Clara is working for tips, and she'd be nice and flirt with you regardless, so you'll give her a nice tip," Hermione explained to Harry like he was four years old. Harry's brow furrowed. "People do that?" "Of course. You don't honestly think Rosmerta likes every school boy in Hogwarts, do you?" Harry deflated noticeably. "I always thought Madam Rosmerta rather fancied me." He sounded somewhat heartbroken. "I'm sure she did like you, Harry, but you were sixteen, and she was almost forty," Hermione consoled. "Although, you didn't hear that from me," she added quickly. "No, that can't be!" "She started Hogwarts the year Mum left, so she's only six years younger than Mum." The Harry in the memory was firmly engrossed in the telly, but every so often he would shoot a glance at Clara. Occasionally, she would catch him looking and give him a big smile or a wink. She walked over and left a pint of bitter on Harry's table. "There you go, luv, your dinner will be right out." Harry ate quietly by himself and at one point ordered a second pint. Clara brought him the bill after a long, drawn out meal in silence. When Harry put what appeared to be a credit card on the bill, the present day Harry was surprised. Hermione exclaimed, "You did still have it!" Harry looked at her quizzically. "You set that cash card up when we were hunting for the Horcruxes, for when we would stay in Muggle inns or visit shops. You have an automatic amount transferred from your Gringotts account to a Muggle bank. We attempted to use the charges on it to track you, but the bank wasn't very helpful about it. They wanted a Muggle court order, so we forged one and Bill almost got thrown in a jail. We cast a memory charm on the manager, and we had an inside person at the company, but we still couldn't get the list of charges. It was very frustrating. Anyway you didn't have it on you when we took you to the cabin," she explained. "It probably expired, and since I didn't have a permanent address, I couldn't get a new one," Harry suggested. "Then what were you living on?" "Not very much by the looks of me when you brought me to the cabin," Harry said morosely. "Well, that's for certain. You look a little better here, at least cleaner, but you're still really thin." When Clara brought the receipt back, she was carrying two large helpings of fruit pudding. She placed one down in front of Harry, and put one down in front of Hermione, who scrambled out of the way just before Clara sat down in her lap. "What's all this then?" Harry asked looking at the pudding. "I want information, and the sweet is just to soften you up," Clara responded. Harry looked skeptically at the treat but didn't touch it. "Oh, come on. You could use the sugar, luv; you're so thin, and you don't have to answer my questions if you don't want to. I just want to know a little bit more about you." "Why?" Harry asked. "Because you have been coming in here for months, and you're still a mystery. You're always so nice, and polite and friendly, yet you come here by yourself every time you're here. You always eat the same thing; I don't even think you have tried anything else on the menu," she leaned in and whispered confidentially, "and the food here isn't even that good." "I like it here. It's quiet, and the food's not bad, and nobody bothers me." Harry shrugged, his pudding still untouched. Clara stuttered and blushed, seeming to lose her confidence. "Sorry, Harry, I didn't mean to bother you. I just thought you might enjoy talking instead of bantering." Clara stood up quickly to walk away. "Have a good evening, Harry." "Clara, stop, I'm sorry. I'm just really private. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. What do you want to know? I'll try not to be such a prat." Clara sat back down with a huge smile on her face. "Well, how about we start small. What do you do for a living?" "I, uh, I don't really have a job. I used to be a kind of a, um, a detective," Harry replied evasively. "Well, surely you must do something for money?" Clara implored. "I have some good investments. I do okay, and I don't really have to work," Harry answered reluctantly. "Oh, well, that must be nice then." Harry just shrugged in reply. "Well okay, then what do you do for fun?" Harry shrugged again. "What's wrong, Harry? You're acting like I'm torturing you. I just want to be friends." Clara's mouth hung open. She looked carefully at Harry, trying to figure out what she had done. He had been fine earlier, and now he looked positively forlorn. A couple walked in and sat down at one of the other tables. She glanced at Harry sitting there, cheerless and resolute. He still hadn't taken a bite of the pudding she'd given him. It seemed she was at a loss for what to do, and she gave panicky glances back and forth between Harry and the new customers. "Harry, I need to go help those other customers. I'm sorry, but eat your pudding, and I will be back in a minute." She went and greeted the new customers, and as she was getting them drinks, a couple of the regulars came in and sat down at the bar to watch the game. She looked anxiously at Harry sitting there like he'd just lost his best friend. She was becoming more and more flustered the longer Harry sat there, but with other customers coming in, it didn't appear she was going to get a chance to sit down with him again. Harry and Hermione watched the interplay, Hermione with great interest, while Harry had almost as black a look on his face as the Harry from the memory. The Harry from his memory got up and started towards the door. Clara called after him, but he either didn't notice, or he ignored her. He walked outside and was about to cross the street when someone grabbed him. His instincts took over, and he pushed them away, and whirled around, wand out. "Clara? What are you doing?" Harry was momentarily shaken out of his haze. She looked quizzically at his wand, and Harry quickly returned it to his pocket. Then apparently deciding she had more important topics she looked apologetically at him and started. "Harry, I'm really sorry that I've upset you. I didn't mean to; I want to make it up to you." She grabbed his hand and pushed a scrap of paper into it. "It's my phone number; I'm free from ten to five tomorrow, and I want you to ring me up. I'll buy you lunch or something, and we can work on being friends, okay?" She gave his hand a squeeze. "Promise you'll ring me up?" Harry looked noncommittal and didn't say anything. "Harry, promise me you'll call me. I don't want to just leave it like this, but I have to get back to work," Clara pleaded. "Uh, sure, tomorrow," Harry said hesitantly. "Okay, I'll be waiting; don't disappoint me. I'll talk to you tomorrow." She squeezed his hand once more and went back into the pub. As the Harry from the memory walked across the street, Harry, following Hermione, stated sadly, "I'm not going to call her." "How do you know?" Hermione responded. "I don't know, I just know." "Do you think you ever came back?" They had followed Harry a short ways into the woods, and he suddenly Disapparated. Harry and Hermione felt a whoosh, and then they were both lying on the ground at Harry's feet as he continued to wander away. Each of them was grabbing their ears. "Ow, what was that?" Harry said getting up. "Following someone who is Apparating in a Pensieve is not a good idea," Hermione said, shaking her head as she climbed to her feet and stumbled along behind the Harry from the memory. "Why not?" "It hurts," Hermione answered curtly. "Well, obviously, but why?" Harry asked as he got his bearings and started to feel more comfortable. "Nobody knows for sure, something about the way the mind interprets memories of Apparition. I have managed to avoid it so far, but that came too quickly. I couldn't run us forward, and we were talking; I got distracted. I just need to be more careful," Hermione finished. Harry in the memory came to an old rundown shack and stepped inside. "I know this place," Hermione stated. "We spent a night here when we were searching for the tiara; we're in Wales." They watched Harry sitting on an old broken chair, in what had at one time been someone's little hunting shack. He sat there for a while, looking forlorn, before he pulled out a small photo of Ginny and eventually started murmuring to it, "I'm so sorry, Ginny. Why did it have to be me? I'm so sorry. I tried to stop them, but I just...." Tears started rolling down his face. "I didn't mean to. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He continued to sit there whispering apologies to the photo, until Hermione tugged on the Harry from the present. "That's enough for tonight; let's go." Soon they were swirling up to the sitting room. "So you were right; I think Clara did fancy you a bit." Hermione smiled. Harry's mood was dark black however. He was concerned about his comments in the memories and about what he had seen of his former self. "Why were you upset by Clara?" Hermione asked, seeing that she needed to get Harry to talk it out. "I don't know exactly. I think she was the first person who had wanted to be my friend in a while, but I can't really remember," Harry answered. "Here, let's put that part of the memory back in, and we'll see what you can remember." Hermione fished around in the Pensieve for a few moments, and when the mist started swirling around her wand, she yanked sharply on it, breaking the thread of thoughts. She put it up to Harry's temple, and it disappeared into his head. "Now, what exactly bothered you about Clara?" "She made me miss my friends," Harry said solemnly. "She reminded me a bit of Ginny in the way that she wouldn't just leave well enough alone and how supportive and nice she was. I just remember missing all of you terribly after she sat down at my table and started talking to me." Harry's eyes filled with tears. "I knew I could never come back, that you'd never accept me once you found out what I had done." "It's not true, Harry. It doesn't matter what happened; we forgive you. What did you do that you think is so terrible?" "I can't remember, but whatever it is, it haunts me. I spent all night in that shack apologizing to Ginny, and occasionally the rest of you, but I only had a picture of her with me. I was so alone; it was like a weight on my chest that I can still feel." Harry rubbed at his eyes, willing away the tears. He took a few deep breaths trying to regain his composure. Hermione got up and walked over Harry and hugged his head to her body. "It's okay, Harry; you're not alone anymore. Let it go. Just let it go." After a few moments she said, "I want you to think about the spot in your mind where we stored your happy memories, remember those memories, and just let the pain in these go." She stroked his hair and whispered encouraging thoughts to him. After he stilled he pulled away from her. She let him go. "I made you wet," Harry sniffled. "Merlin, I'm such a baby." "Don't, Harry. There is nothing wrong with crying. It's how people cope with extreme emotions. You have had more extreme experiences than anyone probably in the whole world. You're allowed to cry, and it will help you heal, as long as you don't get trapped in a spiral of negative emotions. Don't worry about my shirt; it will dry." She ran her fingers through his hair once more and sat down next to him on the sofa. Harry rubbed his eyes under his glasses once again, and they sat there in companionable silence. "Ron's coming to dinner tomorrow," Hermione announced, hoping to pick up Harry's spirits. "That's great," Harry said stoically, not looking at her, just sitting and staring at the swirling mist in the Pensieve. Hermione began picking things up. After finishing putting the rest of the memories into a jar and sealing it, she looked up while picking up the Pensieve and noticed Harry had been watching her closely. He quickly dropped his eyes as soon as she looked at him. She took the Pensieve and put it in the cabinet where the memories were stored. When she came back to the sitting room, Hermione leaned over the back of the couch and put her arms around Harry's neck and put her chin on the top of his head. After a few minutes she asked him, "You want to take tomorrow off?" "No, I want to keep going; I want to find out what's so wrong with me." Hermione sighed. "I'm going to bed," he announced finally. Hermione kissed him on the top of the head. "Goodnight, Harry. Do you want some dreamless sleep potion?" "I'll be fine. Goodnight, Hermione." With that he got up and wandered back into his room and shut the door. *** The next morning the weather was beautiful. The sun was shining, and the snow was all gone. The sunlight streamed into the windows and made the cabin bright and cheery. Harry, however, was still in a doleful mood. A night's sleep had done nothing to lift his spirits. Hermione was concerned that Harry's mood had not recovered much overnight and told him so, suggesting they might be better off taking the day off, but Harry was insistent. They sat down to finish the previous night's memories. As their feet hit the floor of the shack, Hermione grabbed Harry's hand and reminded him, "Harry, keep your happy thoughts close to the surface. If you start to feel sadness or despair, think about the place where you keep your happy memories." Harry nodded. Harry didn't call Clara that first day when he was supposed to; he didn't even leave the shack. He didn't leave the shack on the second day, either. On the third day, hunger and thirst drove him out of the hovel in order to find food. Hermione quickly forwarded past the Apparition, and they found Harry stuffing his face with pre-packaged pastries and orange juice while sitting outside a corner shop. He went back into the shop after eating his breakfast and bought several more food items. Harry carried his purchases a short way away from the shop and cast a cooling charm on the two bags, then shrunk them down to miniscule size and stuffed them in his pocket. Hermione waved her wand quickly and forwarded past yet another Disapparition. Harry was sitting on deserted beach of dull brown sand, the air heavy and salty. It was cold here this time of year, and Harry had lit a small fire and watched the waves as they crashed against the shore. He didn't cry or say or do anything but sit and watch the waves and occasionally find a new bit of driftwood to light on fire. "Do you know where we are?" Hermione asked. Harry shook his head, and she forwarded the memories until they reached the end with Harry still sitting on the beach two days later. "You certainly seem to have a penchant for finding places to be alone," Hermione stated as they sat once again in the living room. "I always have. I don't know why, but even on Privet Drive where the houses were so close together and there was no privacy, I could find places to be alone if I wanted to. People don't seem to notice me when I'm sitting still, wanting to be alone." "Why don't we get some lunch, and after that we can go back and visit you and Kyla," Hermione offered. Harry was unsure if he wanted to go and visit the memories of Kyla again now or not. He had thought a lot about what Hermione had said when they returned the memories to him. What if he had done something with her? He wasn't sure he could forgive himself if he had become involved with her; she deserved better. Everyone deserved better; he didn't want to face the prospect of having hurt even more people. However his curiosity battled with his fear; whatever had happened between them had already happened, and he couldn't take it back. Finally he sighed and nodded his consent. They went into the kitchen, and Dobby served them a hearty stew. Harry only took a couple of bites before he put his spoon down and stared dejectedly at his bowl. Dobby's concern came out instantly. "Harry Potter does not like Dobby's stew?" he squeaked. "It's good, Dobby. I'm just not very hungry today." "Harry Potter, sir, must keep his strength up!" Dobby insisted. "What would Harry Potter prefer?" "It's fine, Dobby, really." Harry picked his spoon back up and ate a few more bites. Once Dobby was convinced Harry was going to actually eat his stew, he went back to cleaning up and eventually wandered out of the kitchen. Harry immediately put his spoon back on the table. "He's right, you know. Harry Potter does need to keep his strength up," Hermione chided. "Harry Potter's not hungry and not in the mood to be nagged," he retorted. "Well, Hermione Weasley didn't expect these memories to be bothering Harry Potter this much. Is there something else wrong with Harry Potter?" Hermione asked continuing the third person game, hoping to get Harry to smile while she questioned him. "I don't know. I just can't seem to stop brooding about what caused me to become such a nutter." "Harry, I have asked you repeatedly not to refer to yourself by such terms. The horrors that you have witnessed are why you were having trouble adjusting. You have been affected by them. It doesn't make you in any way less of a wonderful person; it just makes you someone that needs help. You can heal from this; it's already started. You are so much better now than you were when we found you. You need to be absolutely sure that we're all here for you, and I guarantee you that's the case," she finished patiently. "You don't know. I was desperate to avoid being seen by any of you ever again. It consumed me. Somehow I knew that my friends would never forgive me for what I had done, and I couldn't face that. That's why I kept running." Harry was rocking back and forth in his chair in agitation. "Yet somehow you managed to overcome that at least enough to come see Ron and myself. We saw you just a few months after that last memory. You came to Ron and held our son. I saw you just after that, and I was so happy to see you, so relieved. My heart broke when you disappeared again. So did Ron's—and Ginny's. All we ever wanted to do was to be your friends and help you." "You don't know what it is that I did; I don't even know, how can you be certain? We will probably go through the memory, and it will break your heart, whatever it is, and I'll be an outcast again," Harry countered. "Love isn't like that, Harry. Whatever it is, we will still love you. It might upset us, we might get mad, but don't condemn us to rejecting you before we get the chance. It's not fair; you've assumed the worst of us without ever finding out if we were actually that shallow. Have the faith in us, Harry, that we have in you. Believe in your friends the way we believe in you." Harry made an exasperated noise. "It's just hard to think that whatever drove me so crazy, that's created the fear I have of anyone finding out, you lot could just dismiss." "I didn't say we would dismiss it, but we trust you, Harry. You wouldn't do something bad without a reason; I know whatever you might have done you felt sorry for it. But, even if you did something terrible and we can't understand your reasons, we wouldn't cast you out of our lives. Whatever it is, we'll deal with it. Stop beating yourself up over questions," Hermione replied sagely. "If you can't remember anything else, remember this. I love you, because of all the things you've done for me, and all the things we did together. Nothing can change that. You don't go through what we went through without forming a bond; I will not allow the bond to be broken." Harry wasn't exactly sure how to respond to that. Hermione's statement lacked logic, but he wasn't about to argue with Hermione about her faulty logic. Instead, Harry picked up his spoon and ate a few more bites of stew. Hermione nodded at him, and went back to her own lunch. After Harry had finished, they went back into the sitting room. *** After they sat down, Hermione looked at the memories still swirling in the Pensieve from earlier. "Do you want to deal with these now, or should I put them back in the jar, and we can get them out again later?" "Let's just get it over with." Harry grimaced. He swirled the memories onto the tip of his wand and put them back into his head. Hermione opened the new jar she had fetched earlier and dumped them into the Pensieve. Harry tapped it with his wand and, without even waiting for Hermione, leaned over and was sucked into his memories. His feet hit the ground, and he saw himself sitting at the table in the Brysons' cottage. A few seconds later Hermione winked into existence a short ways away. "Harry! Why didn't you wait for me?" "Sorry, I just wanted to get out of the cabin," Harry apologized without sounding terribly sorry at all. "You know that technically you're still in the cabin, right?" Hermione needled. "Oh, sure, ruin the illusion for me," Harry answered, throwing his hands up in mock anger. "Sorry, Harry, we will take the day off tomorrow and go down to the lake or something." "No, I want to get this over with as soon as possible." "Well, I admire your drive, but I think we should be smart about this." While they argued about taking a day off or not, Kyla wandered out from her bedroom looking like a million pounds. Her hair was pulled back into a plait, but it appeared she had put on some make-up, something that seemed very unusual for what they knew of Kyla. She was dressed for farm work, but somehow was pulling off a look that said she might be the most attractive farm worker in all of the northern hemisphere. She sat down across the table and gave Harry a dazzling smile and said, "Morn'n, Potter." "Good morning, Kyla." Harry glanced at her briefly, but enough to notice the smile she was giving him. He got a slightly embarrassed grin himself and looked away from her. She took Harry's obvious shyness under her gaze as encouragement and began gently stepping on Harry's stockinged foot with her own. Harry attempted to avoid her, but wherever he put his foot she would search around until she found it and then step on it again. Harry pulled his feet back as far as he could and wrapped his legs around the legs of his chair. Kyla slouched down and reached as far as she could, but Harry had succeeded in hiding his toes. Tabitha brought over a pot of coffee and pile of toast and put them down between Harry and Kyla. "Kyla, don't slouch; it's not ladylike. Now just toast and coffee until the morning chores are done, and then we'll have a proper breakfast." Leith came in from the front door. "Mornin," he said cordially. "Harry, you'll be helping me get the truck loaded ter go ter town this mornin." "Are you going somewhere?" "It's Saturday, and we need to pick vegetables and get them loaded into the truck ter take into market. I suspect this will be the last good haul before the weather just turns too cold." The Harry in the memory smiled to himself. He had charmed the Brysons' garden to be impervious to frost and to stay warm on its own. It should continue to produce until there was just too little sunlight to turn the vegetables. But he couldn't exactly volunteer that information to the family. "You want ter come ter town with me?" Harry had taken his feet out from underneath his chair ,and he suddenly felt Kyla's foot on his again. He glanced at her and noticed that her head was nodding ever so slightly. "Yes, sir, that would be nice." "I suspect you want ter spend some of your hard earned wages. We'll stop by the bank when we get into town, and I'll see that you get paid." Leith smiled at Harry. "I get to come too, right, Father?" Kyla asked him sweetly, looking at him with her large blue eyes fully open. "Well, I reckon Harry and I can handle it," Leith said scratching his head. "I'll do the shopping," she offered. She turned on the full power of her looks, batting her eyes at her father. "Please?" she begged. "Oh, you can go, if'n your mother doesn't mind and all," he relented. Kyla looked expectantly at her mother, who said, "If you get your chores done in time to go, then you can go, but I do have quite a bit of shopping for you to do." Harry helped get the vegetables loaded up on the truck and then went to help Kyla with her chores so she would have time to get cleaned up before they left for town. He found her mucking out the chicken coop. Harry grabbed a shovel full of sawdust and started in behind where she had already cleaned up. "Oi, how come you get the easy job?" she yelled playfully. "Funny, I thought they were both your jobs," Harry answered cheekily. "Well, apparently you just couldn't stand to be apart from me," she said silkily. "Hmmm, maybe I should just go have breakfast then," Harry replied and put the shovel back where he found it and started trekking back towards the house. "You get back here, Potter!" she shouted. Harry ignored her and walked back up to the house. After he was out of her line of sight, he doubled back, fed and milked the cow, and then released her out to her small pasture. He waved his wand and vanished the muck in the barn and then waved his wand again and a new layer of straw was laid down. He fed the small calf quickly, set out some milk for the barn cats, and took care of a few of Kyla's other Saturday chores. It was only about eight fifteen when Harry walked back to the chicken coop to a very angry Kyla; the truck was going to leave at nine, and she was just putting the finishing touches on the chicken coop. She was clearly fuming. "Wow, you're slow," Harry teased. She whipped around and glared at him. "What? Did you come back to make fun of me?" Her eyes were staring daggers at him. "No, I just wanted to apologize for teasing you earlier and not helping out," Harry said sincerely. "It was wrong; I should have helped." She melted immediately. "Oh, I was just kidding around, you know. I really wanted to go into town with you today. But, I will never get everything done in time now, and even if I do, I'll smell like manure." Her face crinkled cutely as she said the last bit. "Right, well, we better get going; there's only one bathtub, and there's a line." Harry winked at her. "I have to finish the rest of my chores. Mum will go spare if I go back in there before I'm done." Her shoulders slumped. "Right, well, I'm going to get clean. If you finish up in time, I hope you can come with us." Harry gave her a knowing smile and walked back to the house. Utterly defeated, she tossed her pitchfork into the wheelbarrow and headed for the barn. Hermione and Harry didn't get to see her reaction to her chores being finished because Harry made good on his promise to head to the house to get cleaned up. Harry took as quick a bath as he could and changed into the nicest clothes they had lent him. It wasn't much, clean jeans and a polo shirt, both slightly too large for him. As soon as he opened the door to the bathroom a whirlwind giggled past him and closed the door. Harry smiled and headed out to the kitchen to eat some breakfast before they left. Harry ate a small portion of eggs and bacon, but Tabitha tutted at him and served more eggs onto his plate. After Harry finished his breakfast, Leith and Harry sat outside waiting for Kyla to get ready. Leith glanced at his old watch occasionally, waiting for nine. When nine o'clock came, and Kyla still hadn't come out, Leith turned to him and asked, "Would ya like ter drive, Harry?" and tossed him the keys. Harry looked at them stupidly for a minute and then sheepishly said, "I don't know how," and tossed the keys back. Leith looked at him stunned. "What kind of young man doesn't know how ter drive? A soldier no less!" "I was at boarding school until I joined up, and we didn't have cars. My aunt and uncle never would have let me near their car," Harry muttered. "Well, I didn't mean ter make you feel bad; I'm just surprised is all. Well, get in; it's time ter go." They climbed into the cabin of the pickup and started the engine. As soon as it fired, Tabitha came hustling out of the house carrying several brown paper bags. Harry rolled down the window, and she handed three sack lunches to Harry. "Kyla says to wait just a second. She's ready; she was just looking for her nice shoes." Leith made an impatient noise but left the pickup in park. Tabitha moved around to the right side of the vehicle, and Leith rolled down his window. She stuck her head in the window and gave Leith a chaste kiss. "Drive safe, my love." Leith blushed furiously at this open sign of affection, the first Harry had witnessed in his time here. Kyla came hurrying out of the house as quickly as she could. Harry didn't see her at first, but as she reached the cab, she opened the door and gave Harry a cheeky smile. Harry just stared down at her, she was a vision; her hair honey colored in the sunshine streamed perfectly around her head and shoulders. She was wearing a light pink dress that hugged her body perfectly. Kyla looked up at Harry expectantly, but he just sat there staring at her. After a good solid minute she raised her eyebrows and said, "Um, Harry, budge over." Harry took several more seconds to engage his brain and move to the middle of the cab. This meant there was no longer room in the cab for present day Harry and Hermione since the people in the memory get to take whatever space they want, and the people viewing it just get pushed out of the way. It isn't a strictly ethereal experience; you can see, feel, or smell whatever the person remembers. In this case, Harry remembered a very small cab in a pickup that was really only designed to seat three at an absolute maximum. Harry ended up sitting in Kyla's lap while Hermione was sitting on Harry's lap. Kyla had scooched over and pressed herself firmly against Harry's side and was leaning on him heavily. Harry for his part was sure there was enough room for the three of them to fit comfortably in the cab and couldn't understand why Kyla was pushed against him. He looked very concerned about the current situation. Harry pushed himself away from Kyla twice to put some space between them, but instantly that space was taken up once again by Kyla; Harry was trapped. In an attempt to make the best of it, the nervous young man sat as still as he possibly could; however Kyla was not cooperating with this notion as she seemed to wiggle as much as she could. The cab of the pickup was quite warm with the three of them in tight quarters, and the sunshine beating on the windows. Kyla had insisted the windows be rolled up, so that her hair would not get tangled, and Harry wasn't close enough to either window to do much about it. Harry was very concerned that he was starting to sweat, and his concern was only causing him to become self conscious and even more nervous and sweatier. Kyla turned so that she was facing directly at the side of Harry's face but spoke to her father. "So Father, how much time do you think we'll have in town before we need to head back?" "Well, we need ter get back to the house before it gets ter be too late, but I should be able to give you a couple of hours," he answered. "That sounds terrific," she said casually and then after breathing rather playfully on Harry's neck said silkily, "If you'll help me with the grocery shopping, I'll help you shop for new clothes." "Now yer not ter be bothering Harry none, Kyla. He's a young man about town with a new paycheck; he'll probably have some things he wants to take care of, and he doesn't need ter be escorting ya," Leith admonished her. "Er, it's okay," Harry said. "She's really the only friend I have around here; I could use the help." Kyla made an almost imperceptible squeak and put her hand on top of Harry's and gave it a squeeze. Hermione was giggling madly, but memory Harry looked like he wanted to bolt from the pickup; the other Harry had a frown on his face. "What's wrong there, Harry?" Hermione asked. "Why are you giggling?" "The whole situation, you made a big gesture to Kyla this morning; I'm not sure you even realized how big it was. She is feeling very appreciative, and you couldn't be more uncomfortable sitting here between them. But, you've been out of action for quite a while, and Kyla's attention is making you, er...." Hermione stopped with a smirk, her cheeks coloring slightly. "What?" Harry cried fearing the horrible truth he knew already. He attempted to pull Hermione off the lap of the Harry in the memory, but there was really no way to rearrange them inside the cab of the pickup, so they sat there, two silent and red faced Harrys and two very happy and giggly girls. After about twenty minutes of this very bumpy torture, they finally reached the small market where they sold their vegetables. The five of them tumbled out of the cab, with the Harry on whom Hermione had been sitting following Leith out of the pick up as quickly as possible. The other three passengers exited on Kyla's side. The owner liked the quality this week and asked that Leith bring back any more that they have mid-week, because he wanted to get as much as possible before the first frost. Leith assured him he would try, but that he didn't know how much more the farm would produce in such short order. The transaction was done entirely in cash. Leith winked at Harry. "It keeps Her Majesty from getting more than her share," he explained quietly to Harry, who nodded, despite not having a clue what Leith meant. Leith then counted out the majority of the bills and handed them to Harry, and gave most of the rest to Kyla for the groceries. Harry immediately objected. "I can't take this!" "Course you can for work done well. You earned every penny, lad," Leith said affectionately while pounding Harry on the back. "No, you've been so generous to me; you leant me clothes, you've fed me and gave me a place to sleep; I consider that more than payment enough." "I took a little for room and board out of there, lad, but we're not exactly giving you top shelf accommodations, and ya hardly eat for a boy your size. You need to be eating a bit more; then we might be able ter put some meat on those bones," Leith assured him. Harry was clearly distraught over Leith's generosity, which was clearly a large portion of the family's income. Then a horrible thought occurred to him. "You're selling that sheep because of me, aren't you?" Leith laughed. "No, lad, I sell one ter the butcher occasionally when he asks; there are several flocks in the area, and I generally sell one a month during the year and several during the holidays." It was clear that the money was going to be an issue between them, but Leith cut him off. "Look, lad, you're doing good work for me, and I really did need some extra help. I can't afford to keep ya on all winter, but a young man needs some walking around money. I can keep you employed a couple more weeks, and maybe you can find a job here in the village. Most kids don't want ter stick around here and head fer a bigger town, ya know, so there might be a job around here. But yer welcome ter stay with us a while till ya get on yer feet proper like." Harry didn't argue, because he was speechless. Who were these people? The long lost Muggle cousins of the Weasleys, no doubt. Hermione saw the warning signs on Harry from the memory's face. He felt guilty. When Harry felt guilty, his friends' feelings got hurt in a hurry, and these new people didn't know Harry well enough to read the warning signs. Leith guided the shell-shocked Harry back to the cab of the truck. When Kyla got playful with him there was no response. This time Hermione was sitting on Kyla's lap, and Harry was sitting on Harry's lap. Both Harrys looked grim. Present day Harry turned to Hermione and said, "I'm going to push them away, aren't I?" "Oh, Harry," Hermione sniffed. Present day Harry was feeling guilty for hurting these people, and he hadn't even witnessed how it happened yet, but they both knew it was coming. Kyla sensed Harry's darkening mood, and while she didn't pull away from him, she did sit quietly against him occasionally rubbing his arm gently. Leith pulled into a small square and told them to meet him back here at two. They had a little over three hours before they needed to return. Kyla and Harry took their sack lunches and put them in a shopping bag. Kyla led Harry over to the shopping district, which had several little shops lined up along it and was just a few blocks from the town square. It was a tiny village; they walked by several shops doing some window shopping. They walked by the town jeweler, and Kyla looked at all the pretty baubles they were selling, but she had no money to spend on such things. Other than a beaten up watch on Leith, and well worn wedding rings on the elder Brysons, Harry had never seen a bit of jewelry on any of the Brysons. Finally the couple came to a small men's shop, and Kyla and Harry went inside. Kyla made Harry try on seemingly every bit of clothing in the shop before she made her selections. Harry picked a very modest shirt and pair of pants, but that was all. He purchased a pair of trainers from a wall in the back of the store. The merchant suggested that the cobbler down the street might have something that went with the clothes Harry was buying a little better, but Harry assured him these were fine. Kyla found Harry's modest purchases a bit anti-climactic. Most of her clothes were homemade, with very few exceptions. When Harry told her that he'd never owned very many clothes, and he thought she had a good wardrobe, she assured him that she was tired of wearing clothes she and her mother had made. Kyla had huffily explained that she'd never even owned a pair of stockings, then reluctantly admitted that she'd never actually had occasion to need them either. They went into another shop, and Harry picked out a warm looking but very simple jumper and added it to his purchases. After that he assured Kyla that he was tapped out for the day. "Harry, why aren't you more excited? I love shopping, but other than groceries I never get to do it," she asked as the continued through the merchant district. "I don't have a lot of experience with it; I haven't done a lot of shopping, and I don't really need much." She stopped in a window and looked at a barely dressed mannequin. "You know I've always wondered what it would feel like to wear a pair of fancy knickers like that," she said and then blushed furiously as Harry looked in the window; his face also turned a similar shade. The comment had the desired effect; Harry eyes had gone vacant for a second as he very briefly pictured Kyla dressed in the mannequin's racy outfit. They continued walking down the street until they reached the last merchant shop. Eventually reaching a small table in the town square the two sat eating their lunch in relative silence. Finally Kyla had enough of the silent treatment. "Harry, what on Earth is wrong with you? I thought we were going to have fun, but the minute we got to town you turned into Mr. Gloomy. Are you upset because I wanted to spend time with you?" "No, it's not you," Harry replied. "Well, what else could be bothering you; I'm practically the only person you've seen today!" She smiled. "Thanks for helping me out with my chores by the way, but I would have enjoyed doing them with you. Instead of you doing them for me, while you let me think you had walked away mad from my teasing." "You shouldn't be so mouthy then," Harry replied levelly, casting her an imperious look. "Oh, mouthy, am I?" She got up from her chair and climbed on the table and sat with a foot on either side of Harry on the bench until she was nose to nose with him. "Why don't you show me just how mouthy I am?" she said in challenge. "Oi, Kyla, who's that wanker you're tarting yourself up for?" Harry's head spun to the side and saw three rather large boys. "Friends of yours?" Harry asked quietly, but with a very hard edge in his voice. Kyla let out a bit of a nervous laugh. "No, those three are the reason I've never had a boyfriend. They are the only three boys anywhere near my age in this town, and I'd rather die a spinster than spend an evening with any of them." "I see." Harry carefully helped Kyla extricate herself from her precarious position above him, and then stood up to his full height of about five eleven. "Let's just go, Harry," Kyla pleaded as she tugged on his arm. The boys had crossed most of the square and were approaching them. "No, but if this gets ugly, I want you to go the grocer and wait for me, okay?" "Harry, no. Come with me this instant; if this gets ugly, they'll kill you," she whispered with ferocious intensity. "Don't worry about me; I'll be fine, but I don't want you to see what'll happen to them if they keep saying things like that. It's nothing a lady should witness," Harry said calmly while an intense aura of power radiated from him. Kyla and the Harry from the present day were unfamiliar with this concept, but Hermione was extremely familiar with it. "Uh, oh," she murmured. "Those boys are in for it now." "Harry, what are you talking about? I won't leave you," Kyla whispered intently. "Does my hair always do that when I'm angry?" the Harry standing next to Hermione asked. "Yes, you will. Promise me you will go at the first sign of trouble," Harry insisted, his eyes locked with hers in a fierce gaze. She would later recall that this was the one and only time while she knew him he looked dangerous, like a man that could kill. She looked at him with a quizzical concerned look on her face. "All right, I'll go," she said in a resigned voice. "Please be careful." "Yes, your hair always does that when you're angry, and if they push you very far it won't just be your hair," Hermione answered with the seasoned voice of someone who had seen Harry angry many times and knew exactly how frighteningly powerful he could become if you pushed him far enough. "I've seen you in a rage, Harry, and magic pours off you like too much electricity. When you're that angry it's pretty frightening for everyone." "You didn't answer me, Kyla. Who is this wanker, and why were you climbing all over him like a bint?" "None of your business, Angus," Kyla spat. "That will be quite enough of the name calling, Angus, is it?" Harry said in mock politeness. "None of my business, is it?" He turned on Harry. "You stay away from her; she's mine," he threatened. "Really?" Harry said in a very convincing surprised tone. "You never mentioned this, luv," he said as he turned to face Kyla in a mock hurt. He winked at her quickly. "I'm yours? When on Earth did I ever agree to that?" Kyla snorted derisively. "I wouldn't touch you if you were the last man in Scotland." "You bloody bint!" Angus yelled. He raised his hand as if to strike her, and as his hand moved towards her, Harry reached and grabbed his arm. "We'll be having none of that, Angus," Harry said more calmly than Hermione thought possible. The moment he touched Angus's arm it stopped moving. When he let it go, Angus cried out in pain and clutched his arm. Angus's two friends immediately started to advance, but Harry held up his hand, and they stopped. Kyla looked at Harry, stunned. "Kyla, go. Your friend, Angus, and I need to have a little chat, and I'm afraid it might not be entirely polite." "Harry, I...." "Kyla, go now; you promised," Harry said, his eyes flashing. She turned and started down the street, turning back every so often to see what happened. She finally stopped, a gobsmacked expression on her face. Angus turned to his friends and growled, "What are you waiting for? Get'em!" "I'm afraid this conversation is just between just you and me, Angus. Do you want the polite version or the painful version?" Angus looked at his friends, who were not moving even a little; Harry had petrified them with barely a wave of his hand, but Angus thought they were just scared. Enraged, he charged Harry. Harry had been dodging spells for so many years that hitting him with a fist these days was damn near impossible. As Angus lunged he simply moved to the side, letting him fall. "All right, I guess the painful way then." He checked on Kyla's progress; she was still too close. Angus got up and took a swing at Harry, who ducked, then took another swing at him from the other side, and Harry ducked again. Harry charged his fist with a bit of magic, and punched Angus right in the jewels. The effect of the added magic made it feel about ten times worse. Kyla saw the punch and Angus go down, his two friends standing rigidly behind him. She gasped a bit, but seeing that Harry appeared to be out of danger, she continued on to the grocer. Harry sat down on Angus, who was still clutching his bits desperately; the anguish on his face gave evidence to the fact that the burning sensation was still growing. He was sweating and very pale. "Angus lad, you've had a good run, but no more bullying, okay? If you as so much as speak to Kyla again I'm going to make sure that next time, when I'm done, they never work again. Got it? The whole package will be completely useless; do we understand each other?" Angus nodded stiffly. Harry stood up and released the other two boys. "And I don't want you two bullying anymore either." They charged him. He evaded their attack and then whirled and cast a trip jinx on both of them. When their massive bodies hit the ground, he cast an Incarcerous hex on them. Shaking his head Harry explained, "That was just—so the wrong answer, boys. What we need here is 'Sirius' reform." He smiled. He walked to the first man and turned him over so he was face up. The man had a look of sheer terror on his face. "Yeah, that's right." Harry nodded at him. "Too bad you didn't learn your lesson a little more easily. Now let's see. Obliviate!" Harry stood over the man, his wand hidden on the inside of his forearm. Magic was still possible this way, but his wand movements were badly exaggerated by having to move his whole arm in the motion. "If you ever see Kyla again, you will run in terror from her, as fast as you can in the opposite direction. You will spend the next fifteen years seeking work as a professional ballerina; you will get no training, just go from audition to audition making a complete idiot of yourself. You will to take the auditions very seriously and invite your friends along to watch." He went to the second man and charmed his memory to forget Harry and leave Kyla alone and to immediately seek work as a fish gutter and to keep at it until he had enough money to buy a huge diamond ring and then ask the fish gutter next to him, man or woman, to marry him. Lastly he charmed Angus to run as quickly as he could in the opposite direction until he ran into something each time he saw Kyla in the future. Then to find the ugliest, nastiest, most bitter woman he could manage and marry her and love her for all eternity. "Make her every day a joy, and if you make her unhappy, bang your head against the nearest wall until you pass out as punishment." His work done, he got up and trekked his way to the grocer. *** Hermione was giggling at Harry's actions as they followed him across the street. She turned to present day Harry and said, "Well, that was a little severe but very creative." "I don't have much tolerance for bullies," Harry growled. "I know, Harry, but still those decisions you forced on them will affect them for the rest of their lives," Hermione admonished. "They probably should be in jail; I just helped them down the road to rehabilitation," Harry answered angrily. "So you're the judge and jury now, Harry?" she asked, concerned that Harry seemed to feel it his right to hand out punishment to people. "Yes, and don't forget the executioner," Harry spat at her. "Harry!" Hermione shouted appalled. "Why would...." "I didn't, Hermione," Harry cut her off. "The world, or God, or fate or whatever did it. It tabbed me as the person who had to kill Voldemort, and so I turned into a killer. I did the job, and now that's what I'm left with, Hermione. Harry Potter, the-boy-who-kills-people." He pulled himself out of the memory and left Hermione standing alone in the street. *** By the time Hermione figured out what had happened and followed Harry he was already out the front door. She was terrified. He was angry and hurt and running away. "Harry!" she shrieked. He ignored her and kept walking. Thank Merlin for the Anti-Apparition wards or he might already be halfway across the country by now, she thought. She ran after him; running was neither something she was good at, or dressed for, so she was thankful that he was only a short distance away. "Harry, I'm sorry, please stop." "Why are you sorry? You didn't say anything you didn't mean. You didn't say anything that wasn't true," he stated with a cold sterility in his tone. "This is why we're here, Harry. This is why we are doing this. We need to deal with these feelings that you're feeling right now," Hermione pleaded. "Why? It won't change anything. I'll still be the monster. I can't go back, Hermione. Once you're a killer, you're always a killer. I did it. You took the memories, but it doesn't change anything. I still killed people, didn't I?" "That was war, Harry; death is a part of war. You didn't seek war; you aren't a warmonger, Harry. Voldemort chose to take the horrors of war to you, and you did what you had to survive. Nobody blames you for that." "Back there in that memory, you were right that I was out of control; I could have just erased their memories of the encounters and told them to stay away from Kyla, but I chose to punish them. You don't understand, Hermione. You were right; I did feel it was my right to do it." Harry stopped walking away and stood broken on the path. "That's all right, Harry. You shouldn't take the law into your own hands, but you have feelings for Kyla, and they threatened her. Look, you were emotional, and you reacted strongly. It wasn't that bad; you could have turned them into bugs and left them that way forever, but you didn't. You measured your response. My comment was more to make sure that you know you can't be a vigilante; you need to let society deal with problems like those men." "But society doesn't deal with them. Society lets them do whatever they want. They never get theirs. I lived with Dudley for years; nobody stopped him. He beat kids up, he stole from them, he defaced people's property, he treated girls inappropriately. Nobody ever stopped him; they just turned the other way." "That's not true." "Why? When did Dudley ever get what was coming to him?" Harry asked, apparently forgetting about being upset and becoming genuinely curious what had happened with Dudley. "Come back inside, and I'll tell you; it's freezing out here," Hermione offered. The sun was low in the sky, and Harry only now seemed to notice how cold it was. Hermione was shivering heavily. She had chased him out of the house in long skirt and a blouse; she wasn't even wearing her robes. Harry cast a warming charm on Hermione as his brow wrinkled while he considered her offer. "Okay," Harry said and started walking towards the house. Hermione took a deep breath and blew it out and then followed Harry, staying a few steps behind so he wouldn't change his mind and spin around again. A/N: I know it seems like I'm concentrating on Harry's interaction with women while he was separated for Ginny. There is a very specific reason for this, Hermione took notes on what she saw when she peered into the Pensieve after removing each block of memories from Harry's head. She wants to be sure that it's 'safe' for her to get Harry and Ginny together since they are both anxious to see one another. If Harry is involved in a relationship with some other woman, which right now it appears he's headed that way, then Hermione wants to know that before Harry and Ginny see each other. A big thank you to everyone who helps makes it possible for me to bring this story to you. Cera, Katie, and Emily you're all the best. (Even when you point out errors in my authors notes.)
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