A/N: I won't even pretend to have any fraction of the talent JK Rowling does, so everything is hers!
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Ginny barely had time to land before she was running towards the front door and crashing into the burrow.
“Harry?” She called frantically. “Harry, are you still here?”
She rushed through the house, calling his name as she tripped over the various broken furniture and structure, wondering all the places he might have gone.
“Oh, please be here…” she said quietly to herself.
She called into the kitchen and dining room, dashing about like a fish in a frantic pool. She called his name a few more times throughout the bottom story before heading up the stairs, her feet creaking along the old wooden steps. She moved more slowly there than she had downstairs, the darkness causing limited visibility ahead.
“Harry?” She called again.
There was a distant squeaking and she shot her head upwards, listening to the floors above. It was coming from what sounded to be her old room…perhaps…?
Ginny reached for her wand and clung to it tightly with her left hand as her right felt along the staircase for rubble in the way. It wasn’t pitch dark, but lightless all the same and she fought for the hope that Harry was still in the building to keep her from becoming afraid.
Just as she reached the flight of her old bedroom she noticed a dark figure blur in the way.
“Name yourself!” The body commanded in a deep, stern tone.
Ginny squealed and jumped backwards, catching herself just in time along the banister post.
“Gin, is that you?” The voice called from the shadowy form, the sound completely different than it had been seconds before.
“Harry?” She replied, recognizing his new, soft tone immediately.
Harry walked forward, his steps light but quick. His shoulders seemed to reach her first, his legs and head left behind. She tried to catch his eyes, but could only see a gray body, barely definable even so close.
“You’ve come back…” he said as he stepped a bit closer.
“Yes…” she replied softly.
Ginny strained her eyes even more, hoping to catch a reaction in his face, but still couldn’t see anything but cloudy form.
The house creaked eagerly around the pair as Ginny found herself speechless, her breath shortened and labored. She watched Harry’s figure shift his weight uneasily, but curiously all the same and she pushed her own weight forward, pressing down on the soft wooden floorboards with a gentle sound. The awkward pause began to build about the dusty space until Ginny could stand it no longer. In one enthusiastic breath she exploded.
“Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry!”
“Gin, you have nothing to be sorry for!” He responded immediately, almost on top of her words.
“Oh, I do, Harry, I do! I’m so glad you’re still here!” She spilled out rabidly, throwing herself forward into his chest.
Ginny landed with a crash into Harry, her body collapsing into his arms, her head falling firmly into his neck. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, squeezing her in and leaning his head down to cradle hers. He felt her breathe a heavy sigh into his jumper as she tightened her hands around his back.
There were no tears, no outpouring sadness or emotion, just one, tight, powerful embrace that shook both Ginny and Harry in an inexplicably magnificent way.
“Are you all right, Ginny?” Harry finally whispered, his voice muffled into her soft hair.
Ginny didn’t respond immediately, unwilling to remove herself from this quiet moment. He finally felt her give an affirming nod, barely noticeable were it not moving so close against his body, and heard her meekly echo into the air,
“Everything is all right now.”
They remained calm and still in their embrace for a length of time neither really knew or cared to wonder about until questions resurfaced in Ginny’s mouth.
“Could we talk?” She asked, her head still buried.
“Please,” Harry responded.
He carefully coaxed her backwards, freeing space to lead her elsewhere than this dark place on the landing. He moved his hands from her back to take one within his palm and walked towards the first door on the right, the same place he had emerged from a moment before.
As the door pushed back a pool of evening light poured in and Ginny felt a rush of nostalgia attack. There was her bed, the covers and sheets untouched and tucked as neatly as ever. Her dresser was still standing, the drawers unmoved and still, she was sure, full of old clothing and memorabilia. A poster of her favorite Quidditch team rustled about on the wall, a beater pounding the winning goal beneath the layers of dust, and an old vase of withered and dried flowers sat calmly in the window.
“Oi,” she gasped, “My old room…my old things…”
Ginny wandered deeper into the room towards the bed, drinking in the surroundings while Harry swallowed and gripped the partially hidden picture frame in his hand.
“What’s that?” She asked, noticing the painted red frame.
“Oh…this?” He replied nervously. “It’s uh…it’s just…”
Ginny reached out and took it from his palm. She eyed it thoughtfully as Harry watched her, slightly embarrassed that she had found it in his hands.
“This was taken right before you left to fight Voldemort, the final battle,” she explained, her eyes still examining the photo, “I’d forgotten it was here.”
“James was so small,” Harry said softly.
“Barely two years old,” she said, a gentle smile forming. “He had fallen asleep on your chest and you fell asleep with him. I came to get you for supper, but I didn’t have the heart to wake such a handsome pair.”
Harry felt his heart skip and remembered the way his son used to coddle on his chest as he lay on the couch reading or engaging in other such activities. He would stop and watch James sleep many of those times, his only thoughts narrowing to how beautiful this child was, and how grateful he was to Ginny for bringing him to the world.
“I watched you for a minute or so, leaned against the doorpost and just watched you dream,” she continued, “it was so peaceful.”
“He used to fall asleep like that a lot,” Harry added quietly, shuffling his feet against the floor.
Ginny smiled widely and nodded.
“I finally walked over and gave you both a kiss before leaving you alone, that’s when mum took this.” Harry looked at her longingly. “You woke up for just a second and kissed me back…it was at that exact moment I really believed that anything was possible as long as I was with you.”
Ginny looked up from the photograph of a woman leaning over and planting a tender kiss on the head of a dark haired man, a young child asleep on his chest, who awoke to pull her forward and return a sweet, loving kiss on her lips as she giggled and smiled.
“Harry…” her voice trailed off and Harry stepped just inches from her, his hands reaching for her shoulders.
“I’m so glad you came back,” he chimed in, “I came up here, I don’t really know why, I’m not sure what I was hoping to find. I just felt like such a fool. I didn’t know what I was thinking, and well, I was hoping, I suppose, to feel some sort of comfort from this home,”
“You weren’t a fool, Harry,” she tried to begin.
“Oh, Gin, I didn’t know how to tell you about this, about…me…it was so hard, so terrifying…I was so scared you would hate me, and then when you left-”
“Oh, Harry,” Ginny interrupted, “I’m so sorry.”
“You’re sorry? What can you possibly be sorry for?” Harry asked unbelievably as he dropped his hands to his sides.
“For running away, not letting you explain, just abandoning the scene like that.”
Harry sighed as if he thought she still had no reason to apologize. Ginny heard the tone and continued her ramble, speaking quickly to avoid space for him to enter and interrupt.
“Harry, I was so confused, I mean, I missed you so much that suddenly having you here, it didn’t seem real, it didn’t seem possible…” Ginny stepped closer to Harry, breathing in deeply as she did so. “l wanted to be angry, but I think that’s what scared me so bad, I really wasn’t, I mean, sure, I was upset, but really I just wanted to fall into your arms. I just wanted to feel your arms wrapped around me and I wanted to stay that way forever. I felt…well…happy.”
Harry looked at her with deep compassion and watched as she sorted out the wild, but exhilarating thoughts in her mind.
“I didn’t understand it, like the emotion was disloyal or something! I wondered how it was possible to not have any anger at all…I mean…if it was there I knew I was going to have to create it and it was exhausting lying like that, lying to myself. Hearing you talk, the whole time all I wanted to do was giggle because you were actually sitting right in front of me! I mean…YOU! THERE! HERE!!”
Harry felt his heart begin to beat at a normal pace and he loosened his mouth slightly from its tense position. He gazed at Ginny for a moment longer and heard his memories laugh, remembering just how much he loved it when Ginny would talk quickly when she got really excited.
Everything was a whirlwind around him, and even though he didn’t quite understand the exact situation or the rectification of all of his actions, he felt like this was the beginning of something new.
“You were happy?” He said aloud with a laugh, a smile forming against his pale face.
Ginny looked at him and her own smile began to take over.
“It was a revelation, Harry! I’m not angry with you. I never really was; I don’t know if I ever could be. I mean, I was devastated when I thought you’d died, but now that you’re here…it just all seems to fit. With James off at Hogwarts now it’s like…it’s like the time is perfect and everything is perfect. Everything is all right.”
Ginny let out a nervous, excited sort of giggle and pulled at the hair hanging along her shoulders. She felt her blood pumping furiously through her chest and she knew she could never articulate the proper expression of her emotions at this moment, but she certainly wanted to try.
“Harry, there’s nothing you could ever do that could make me stop loving you…” she added calmly and gently, removing her hands from her hair and fidgeting with her feet.
These words exploded within Harry, his entire body powerless under the pressure of such incredible devotion, something he never thought he would ever deserve. However, these same words reminded him of the reason he had come to Ginny tonight in the first place, and as he tried to mask his concern, Harry’s smile faded into an awkward pose.
“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that, Gin,” he started, “but there’s still something I really need to tell you.”
“Harry,” Ginny said, her lips mesmerizing to Harry as they moved softly about, “I want to talk about the details, believe me, I want to hear every word you have to say, but you don’t have to explain anything to me right now. There’s time for that.”
“No, Gin, you don’t understand“ “
Ginny moved closer to the strong body of her husband, her eyes agleam. “All I need to understand is that right now I just want to catch up on our friendship, nothing else. Right now I just want to be your wife.”
Ginny stepped into Harry’s body trying to coax his arms around her waist in a strangely forward manner, but Harry pulled her away.
“No, Ginny, this is different. This can’t wait.”
A difficult frown washed over Ginny’s smile and she peered into his shaking eyes, feeling oddly hurt and rejected. Her heart pounded in grimace and she could only pause and wait.
Harry walked towards the window and glanced out at the sunset, almost completely down past the horizon, and then propped himself on the ledge. He titled his head down, then far enough to the side it nearly rested on his shoulder and sighed.
“Ginny,” he began breathlessly. There was a pause and Ginny started fidgeting with nerves.
“On with it!” She said hoarsely, admitting in her tone she would rather he not ruin the once delightful moment with something dark. She had just spilled her heart in forgiveness and joy. What was he about to tell her? What words were about to gun from his mouth?
“Ginny, you’re not the only one who knows.”
Harry immediately caught her gaze as she lifted her eyebrows in confusion.
“I’m sorry?” She posed in question form.
“There are others,” he said quietly, but with strength, “Others that know I’m alive.”
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“It’s him, Harry,” Remus said quickly, wasting no time to enter the conversation as the duo stooped into the low-roofed hut.
“Who?” Harry asked confused as he sat down at the dingy plank table set against the far right-hand wall.
“Phish, he’s the one we’re looking for.”
Remus set a chipped cup before Harry and began to fill it with hot tea.
“What?” Harry asked again, still puzzled.
Remus filled his own cup then returned the pot to its hook above the fire.
“The Death Eater that’s doing all of this,” he added with a sense of exasperation as if Harry should already know this, “he’s the one leading the rest of them.”
Harry watched Remus stir a cube of sugar into the liquid as the steam from his cup rose in gentle, hypnotic curls around his face. Remus was speaking quickly, excitedly.
“Voldemort would have been very angry about all of this, you know. A selfish one to the end, that creature…would he have seen this little charade I’m sure he would have killed them all himself. It was his reign and no one else’s.”
“Wait-“ Harry said shaking his hand slightly as he spoke, “back up. What about Phish-I mean…what? He’s the leader of all this? But he’s in charge of protecting everyone against the Dark Lord, or I suppose, he was until he died. He worked with the Order to kill Voldemort and he’s been working with us now to get the rest of Death Eaters…even though I know we don’t really…”
Remus gave Harry a patronizing glare and asked, “Since when have we ever trusted the ministry to handle this business?” He took a seat and huffed under his breath, “Ha, protecting…”
The two spent a moment sipping the liquid from their cups, Remus involved in practically schizophrenic thought while Harry watched on, trying to sort out the explosive accusations his friend was making.
“Remus-" Harry began, but was cut off by a sharp hush from Remus.
“No more, not now…it’s not safe any longer.”
There was something paranoid about his voice, although he otherwise seemed completely calm. Harry looked around the hut for a sign of disruption, but it was the same sort of eerie forest silence it had been when they arrived only a few minutes ago.
“Remus?” Harry asked in gentle confusion.
“I’ll return to the ministry tomorrow, normal business as always,” he replied smoothly.
Harry left his mouth open, words ceasing his lips. Phish was the Death Eater they had been searching for? What was Remus saying? It made sense, he supposed, and even more was the fact that Harry had never liked the man. Over the past few years he had forced himself to get on with the tall, arrogant wizard, a task nearly more difficult than fighting the Dark Lord himself.
When Harry had been forced to go along with the plan to tell everyone that he had been murdered while fighting Voldemort, he had lost all respect for Phish. He had decided that no right man would conjure such a plan…but then…his very closest friend in these times and most trusted advisor had agreed to it…Harry shook his head, chasing the thoughts away, trying to remember that bitterness would get him nowhere. He needed Remus now and he wanted to understand what he was being told.
Remus glanced sideways and upwards at Harry, motioning towards his cup as if to ask whether or not he wanted more. Without waiting for response Remus leaned in as if to add tea to Harry’s practically full cup when he pushed past the china and planted himself at Harry’s ear.
“We can not let on that we’ve caught him, he must never know until the moment comes to seize,” he whispered.
Harry nodded a barely visible motion of the head, still a bit bewildered by the sudden spit of accusation and Remus set back down in his seat, returning to his glazed expression over his tea.
“Then to the ministry tomorrow, right, yeah,” Harry mumbled aimlessly.
Remus didn’t even bother making eye contact, but simply gazed towards the dusty ground and Harry took this notion to do the same. He continued sipping his tea until tired overpowered his eyelids and he drifted away into a deep sleep beside the fire.
It was a sallow creaking that awoke him hours later, his drool pooling down his cheek, soot beginning to cake against his face as he slept so close to the stone fireplace.
“Remus?” He asked as he shot upwards, his reflexes sharp from years of battle.
His eyes darted about the dim room, the fire having died to embers during his slumber, trying to survey the space. His heart was pounding in a strangely familiar speed, the way it would when he was about to be attacked, however the hut was tiny enough that another adult would hardly go unnoticed or unheard.
As his pupils peered towards the black corners, he noticed Remus asleep across the table, his hand clutched around an empty cup. Harry lifted himself up and began to raise his chest and knees to stand when his shoulder caught the handle on the fire poker hanging low on the wall, causing it to crash to the floor with an echoing sound.
Remus awoke and jumped from the table ripping his wand from his pocket in a flash. He aimed it at Harry who, by instinct, had pulled his own wand at the same time.
“Harry?” Remus said in a short breath.
The two lowered their wands and Remus gripped his heart.
“Scared me near death,” he continued, shaking his head.
“I thought I heard something,” Harry said awkwardly as he searched around the room, “perhaps not.”
Remus blinked a few times and rubbed his unshaven jaw, glancing at a dingy clock on the wall pointing to the early hour of morning it had become.
“Not much time left ‘till sunrise I suppose,” he said in a calm voice, “doubt I can sleep much more anyway.”
“Yeah, it’s hard to get any-“
Harry was cut off by the horrible look that had consumed Remus’ face. He was already pale, but any color he might have had flushed out onto the floor. His eyes grew into unsightly large discs staring around Harry’s shoulders and his mouth slowly opened to reveal a dark, dry cavity.
“Dad?” A small voice cooed from behind.
Harry’s heart lurched forward in his chest almost physically pulling him down. He swallowed as he slowly twisted his body to face the sound and stood in complete panic as he turned around to see a six-year old James, dirty and wide-eyed in the moonlight.
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Ginny gave Harry a strange look.
“What do you mean others know you’re alive? Harry?”
Harry could feel his skin becoming clammy and his forehead filling with sweat.
Here it is, he thought, the time to let it out. You’ve been waiting long enough for this, and here is the spot.
“Harry, I don’t understand.” Ginny asked again.
“There’s a memory, a piece of your past that well…has never happened.”
Ginny gave him another perplexed look.
“Please, I don’t understand what you’re playing at,” Ginny didn’t want to let on, but there was something oddly familiar to confusion and fear that was forming in her lungs.
“There’s a past incident, pertaining to James, that isn’t really what you think it is. You see, James never fell out of that tree fort. Those cuts…they’re from something else.”
Ginny’s eyes were wide now. She knew there were things about her life that Harry was aware of because he had chosen to make himself welcome invisibly over the years, but it still took her by surprise to hear him talk of such things so casually.
“I don’t…” she mumbled.
“Gin, I know it’s going to be difficult, but please try to follow.”
Ginny didn’t know why she felt completely unpatronized by that, but she simply nodded and made herself comfortable.
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“James?” Harry squeaked, his throat closing fast.
There was a lasting pause that filled the room with black, confused space. Was this a mirage? A dream? Some sort of strange, desperately real vision? Harry refused to peel his eyes away from the young boy, James returning the wide-eyed search.
“Dad?” He asked again, his voice much weaker this time.
Harry lifted his chin softly and released a gentle nod. James’ eyes flooded with tears and he bolted towards Harry, throwing himself into his father’s arms. Harry kneeled to catch him, his own eyes exploding with wet droplets as he hugged his son for the first time in nearly four years.
Remus remained dumbfounded behind the pair, angry and ripped apart all at once. He couldn’t help but feel his own heart pull as he watched the scene before him unfold. But how had James gotten here? No one knew of this hut, deep within an ancient forest, let alone a little boy! And how did James even know Harry would be here? Questions pounded in his ears, but his body was too solid to speak them.
Harry pushed James back to look at his face. James continued crying, though his tears were much smaller as he hastily wiped them from his cheeks. Harry stared at his young, pale face, a few freckles peaking out from beneath his bright green eyes.
Harry had seen James over the years when he snuck into Ginny’s home under his invisibility cloak, and wasn’t so surprised with the way his son had aged, but Harry had never been able to touch him. It was always just listening, watching from a cold, empty distance and there was something sensational about holding James shoulders in his own, large, rough hands that exploded inside of him. His son, his boy!
“James! What on earth…what is going on? What are you doing here?” Harry managed to stumble out as the reality of the situation finally started to creep in.
“I had a dream…” James was equally baffled at the moment; it was obvious in his face by the way he quivered when he spoke. “But you are supposed to be…mum said you were…”
“What dream? How did you get here, James?” Harry pleaded, ignoring the final shaking comments.
“There have been a few…at first I just saw you, but then I started seeing a place…it felt so real. I could talk to you, too, dad, I could hear you. You played wizard’s chest with me and we laughed.”
“Harry…” Remus said from behind them.
Harry had nearly forgotten that he was even in the room with them and he turned around to face his friend.
“What’s going on?” Remus was quiet in his question.
Harry could tell that Remus almost doubted James’ appearance and wondered whether Harry had led him here by manipulating these supposed dreams, something Remus knew his friend was not only capable of, but inclined to do in desperation to see his family. Yet, Remus trusted his friend, and branded the thought as impossible.
“Is that what it feels like to apparate?” James asked, however, breaking the tension.
“What?” Harry said, returning his focus to his son.
“I felt a bit like I was being sucked through space and my bones were squeezing inward until I thought they couldn’t squeeze anymore,” James said with innocence.
Harry was even more confused now. James had apparated? But he was only six, nearly seven Harry figured, there was no way he would have the slightest clue about that sort of magic. He might have heard about it from Ginny or his uncles, however, he would most certainly be clueless when it came to actually carrying out the task…right?
“James, I don’t think-“ Harry began, but was cut off once again.
“I just concentrated really hard on the place I saw in my dream, and I thought about you being there, and then…there I was. I was just outside the forest, and it looked really familiar. I got really lost, but knew you were in here somewhere, you had to be! If this place was real, you must be too.”
“Harry, I don’t understand what’s going on here, but I think it wise for us to try and sort it out quickly before any problems arise.” Remus coached from Harry’s back. “I don’t really think this is place to do it, either, it’s just not safe…”
“Remus!” Harry called a bit frustrated. “My son is here! I’m not going to waste precious time running about trying to find an appropriate place to talk! I’ve been doing that for far too long already. That’s just rubbish, Remus, and you know it. Besides we’re in the middle of one of the deepest ancient forests in all the United Kingdom…I doubt anyone will find us here now.”
Lingering in Harry’s mind as he quipped back was the undeniable fact that his tiny son had found them, and he had apparently wandered through the woods to meet this hut face on. If a six-year old child can do this, Harry shuddered to think what a band of Death Eaters were capable of.
“Dad, it’s all right. We can spend loads of time together, I don’t have to do anything today. I promised Nana Granger I would have tea with her on Wednesday, but that’s not for a while.”
Harry turned to James, the word “dad” sinking into his skin like deeply, sumptuous oil. His heart sinking deeper into his chest as the confusion surfaced even more powerful than the last moment, he passed his son a stern expression.
“I need you to explain everything to me, James. How you got here, what these dreams were, who you talked to about them…Did you tell mum?” Harry was still crouching near the ground, but his knees dropped solidly to the dusty floor when James responded.
“Oh, well that man from the ministry helped me apparate,” he said calmly and disturbingly nonchalantly, “he told me just how to do it.”
Harry’s heart pounded and he was certain Remus’ was as well.
“James, what man from the ministry?”
“I can’t remember his name…the animal one. He came by to see mummy and he talked to me for a while when she was in the kitchen. He asked me about you and wanted to know if I had talked to you. I told him of course not because you had died when I was just a little boy.”
Harry heard Remus let out a choking cough and he ignored the creaking of the old pine chair he sat down in to brace his weak legs under the blow of such innocently delivered comments.
“Phish, you mean?” Harry asked strongly.
“Yep, that guy.”
“And what did you tell him, James?” Harry asked, still wavering under the reality that his son was actually standing in front of him, communicating with him verbally, conversing in such a manner that Harry didn’t have to hide or run.
“Well he didn’t seem very convinced,” Harry was surprised at James’ vocabulary, “and he asked more about you, and then I remembered my dreams and I told him about them and how real they seemed so it was like I was talking to you in real life.”
Remus’ hand let out a loud thud as it met the tabletop behind Harry. A jinx-worthy sigh expelled from his lips and James babbled on. His purity was impeccable; his disregard for the rather shocking revelation that his father was actually alive seemed utterly tossed aside at the energy of simply being with him. Neither Harry nor Remus really understood the scene before themselves, the world tipsy and swaying at the whole ordeal.
Leading James to take a seat next to the fire place Harry asked, “And what were your dreams, exactly?”
“Oh, well, nothing too special, I guess. They got a bit more different each time, but it started out with just the woods, and then you would be in the woods, and then I would talk to you, and sometimes we would walk into the woods together. One time you led me to this hut and we played wizard’s chess for a long time and you wanted to know about my new broom, the one Uncle Ron got me, but no one was supposed to know about.”
“You saw these exact woods?” Harry asked entirely baffled.
“Yep, they are just like I dreamed. Mr. Phish told me he bet I could ride my broom through the trees as good as you could, but I didn’t really believe him. Mum says you were one of the best flyers in centuries.”
At the mention of this Harry looked down and his knees, dirt seeping into the denim. It hurt to hear the wonderful things Ginny said about him when he was entirely undeserving.
“And he told me sometimes our dreams are messages from people who can’t talk to us in person, and there is a way to talk back to them. He told me you could be trying to tell me to come and visit you because you missed me. I still told him you were dead so that wasn’t possible, but he said maybe I could visit you in your world.”
Remus shook his head in the back, feeling all too powerfully he knew exactly where this conversation was leading. Phish knew perfectly well that wasn’t possible, if Harry really had been dead, there would be no way to go to “his world”. Phish had set this up, and it didn’t feel very good.
“James,” he asked, “did you tell this man where the forest was in your dream?”
“I didn’t know where it was,” he replied, “I just concentrated on the image from my dream to take me here, just the forest, though, because I couldn’t remember what the hut looked like, we had only gone to it once, and Mr. Phish said I could get hurt if I wasn’t certain where I was going.”
Remus looked exasperated and frightened.
“Yes, but did you give him any details? Does he know you’re coming here? Does he know you’re here now?”
James was an intelligent boy for a large part, naïve and innocent, but a smart lad, and he took notice of the frantic glow in Remus’ eyes as they stared at him.
“It was his idea,” he said meekly.
Harry knew exactly what Remus was getting at and stood to his feet again, taking James into his side. His chest was rising quickly with his shortened breaths and he flashed Remus an alarmed gaze.
“You don’t think -" he began.
“You know I do,” Remus interrupted, “it’s not safe here, we have to leave immediat-“
An explosion of light and sound erupted into the hut, green light blasting through the only window. Harry and Remus reached for their wands instantaneously and Harry shoved James into the crook in his legs, his free arm pressing James’ chest to hold him in place.
“Artego!” Remus shouted at an appearing Death Eater, blasting him into the air in a spiral roll.
The door swung open in a momentous shower of spells and Harry flung himself to the ground, James beneath him.
“Rendium!” A brilliant light exploded around Harry, James and Remus and smashed into a wave of Death Eaters like a nuclear bomb. It would only stun them for a few seconds, but it was enough time to collect themselves.
Remus leaped towards Harry, reaching for his arm so the trio could apparate away, but he didn’t reach in time.
“Petrificus Totalus!” A voice boomed from just outside.
“Expelliarmus!” Harry responded immediately, however Remus’ body had already fallen stiff to the ground, his eyes wandering about helplessly.
The aiming Death Eater had been launched backwards from the door at Harry’s return, but another was approaching quickly from behind.
“Belium Cannus!” Harry spouted, but the attacker ducked out of the way and aimed right back.
“Massium!” He spit out furiously.
Harry, who had begun to rise to his feet a second earlier, opened his mouth to reply when it filled with gasping air and absolute horror. James had been hit.
“No!” He cried as he aimed at the billowing figure blazing towards him at full speed. “Avada Kedavra!”
A blast of light exploded from his wand and hit the figure square in the chest, dropping him to the ground like a flat rag. His heart was pounding as he glanced at James again to see blood beginning to seep through his pale green jumper.
He shot a flash of red light towards Remus, whose body immediately unfroze and Remus sat up quickly, bracing his head in a creaking form.
As more and more Death Eaters bombarded the tiny hut, Harry’s only thought was on his son, bleeding and limp beside him. He had to do something.
Like an image from a dream Remus and Harry battled together to rid the remaining attackers, ducking and jumping out of the way of curses and jinxes alike. Lights were flashing all about the woods and hut, sending objects crashing to the ground in shatters and thuds and exploding in booms and piercing sounds to the ears. It could have been hours, it could have been seconds, Harry really didn’t know, but soon he began to hear the distinct sound of popping, the injured Death Eaters disapparating in retreat.
“James!” He cried as he threw himself back onto the floor next to his son’s side.
James was paler than before and his skin was turning an ill shade of blue. His hands were losing warmth as Harry ripped at his jumper and then through the white shirt beneath. Harry let out a smothered gasp as he set his eyes upon the wounds on James’ chest. Cuts like Harry had seen before, but never imagined on his child, covered James’ torso and shoulders, like a mangled cat.
Remus let out a shaking breath of air and leaned down next to Harry, gently touching James’ pant leg.
“He’ll be all right, there’s still time.” He said in comfort.
Harry and Remus had seen this curse before and luckily knew how to heal it. It was similar to a very nasty one Harry had learned in his sixth year at Hogwarts, however the cuts were more narrow and deep, and more numerous to count. The healing process was not easy, complicated and long, but if there was still any life left in James, Harry believed there was still chance.
Remus stood and walked away to keep guard over the yet unstable location as Harry began to mutter a windy countercurse. One by one the cuts on James’ body began to seal themselves, but very slowly and not completely. They would close about two-thirds of the way up the wound, leaving a surface cut that was still desperately painful and long-time in healing. The bleeding, however, was stopping and the blood around James’ neck was beginning to dry into a deep red crust.
“Harry, almost there?” Remus asked as he peered out the door frame, the actual door lying in pieces around the entrance area.
Harry didn’t respond, but kept on with his wand, warmth radiating from its tip into every open gash. Finally, however, the last cut shut as far as it would, the bleeding stopped completely and color began to restore to James’ face.
The pair waited with baited breath for any sign that this boy would be all right, but minutes passed with nothing.
Then, a cough.
Spitting from his mouth red saliva and what looked closely cousin to vomit, James rolled onto his side and let the combined mucus expel onto the ground.
“Oh, Merlin!” Harry exclaimed as he reached down to James’ shoulder, holding him steady as he coughed his way back to breath.
James looked up with watering eyes and moaned in pain. Harry fisted his left fingers tightly, pressing his chin deep into his chest as he suffered sobs like he hadn’t in years.
Remus approached the scene, still watching over his shoulders every few seconds, and placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder, James still releasing agonizing groans.
“I’m sorry about this, Harry,” he began, but this time Harry cut him off.
“It was because of this!” He said sharply through his wet tears. “This is why I did it, Remus, so this very thing would never happen…”
Remus lowered himself to give a more generous lean into Harry’s body.
“I know,” he whispered.
Remus let Harry cry a bit longer until Harry wiped his face and looked up, his eyes on fire, and stared straight into Remus’. It was a look that made Remus shudder and a look he understood well.
“Are you certain?” He asked calmly.
Harry nodded with a deep intake of air and swallowed hard.
“He can’t remember any of this.”
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A/N: Aha! Finally something intriguing, I hope! Thank you for being patient this far and for continuing to read with me! I hope this story grabs your imagination and keeps you wanting more! I’m really trying! The next chapter is a work in progress, as always, so no promises on when it will be up, but I can promise I will be working hard to get it up as soon as possible.