Here at the End

By

Ahn Na Blue

Rated PG-13

Chapter Three: Give Him Something To Fear

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter I’d be really, really, ridiculously rich. I’m not. And it sucks.

Hmm, can anyone tell that I like that People=Pets theory?

The night of the wedding, after Bill and Fleur had left for their honeymoon and all of the guests had departed, Harry was sitting silently in the Weasley’s living room watching Ginny play with Arnold, her pygmy puff, who, in Harry’s opinion, was very cute and cuddly but other than that didn’t have much going for him. The little furball would roll around in Ginny’s hands, occasionally nipping her fingers, and showing off his one trick, which was puffing himself up. It was cute for awhile, but a pet like that really made Harry grateful for Hedwig, whom he had left at Hogwarts.

In his lap, Harry felt Crookshanks give a faint growl. Crookshanks was very cranky; he had been driven from the room that Hermione shared with Ginny by her rampant packing. Hermione had insisted that they travel to Godric’s Hollow by Muggle train, and they were leaving for King’s Cross that same night.

Harry was still feeling confused about going to Godric’s Hollow. At his feet, Ginny was being very quiet. She had asked him one or two tentative questions, and then stopped, unable to think of what else to say. But it was all right. He’d have plenty of time on the train to discuss it with Hermione and Ron.

Behind him, he could hear Hermione coming down the stairs, dragging her trunk. He was going to get up and help her when he heard Ron say, “Levicorpus!”

Harry jumped to his feet and saw Hermione floating above the stairwell, upside down, using both hands to hold her skirt in place.

“Don’t you dare use that infernal spell on me!” Hermione shrieked, while trying to reach her wand with her teeth.

“Ron,” Harry shouted, “that’s the wrong spell!”

“Well I bloody know that now!” Ron shouted back, horrified. “I was just trying to help her carry her stupid trunk! What do I do?”

“Liberacorpus!” Harry called out, and then, realizing his mistake, made a dive for the stairs to catch Hermione as she fell. “Are you all right?” he asked. “I didn’t mean to just drop you.”

Hermione was seething at Ron, but when she spoke to Harry her voice was calm. “I’m fine, Harry. Thank you for getting me down.” She straightened her clothes as he helped her to her feet. “You can’t wear those robes to King’s Cross, you know,” she said to Ron in her most Hermione-ish voice. “And we’re traveling as Muggles. I hope that you’ve packed accordingly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ron sulked, tugging at his dress robe collar. “Look, I said I was sorry about the spell-”

Hermione put her nose in the air and drew her wand, giving it a swish and flick. “Wingardium Leviosa,” she said distinctly, and her suitcase rose gracefully into the air and followed her the rest of the way down the stairs.

Harry smiled after her, admiring her spell craft as always. But his smile faded when he looked at Ginny, who was watching Hermione leave with an unpleasant look on her face.

******************

“Where are you going after Godric’s Hollow?”

“I don’t know. We’ll probably just go back to Hogwarts and wait for term to begin,” Harry said thoughtfully. “If it begins, that is.”

“Dad and Mum say that they think it will. They don’t think that Professor McGonagall and the others will let Hogwarts close.” Ginny was standing very close; they were outside under the stars, waiting for Hermione and Ron to come out so they could leave for the train station. “I’m going to go back, whether it opens or not,” she said fiercely.

“You can’t,” Harry said sadly.

“What do you mean I can’t?”

She was looking very much like Molly Weasley at the moment, and Harry backpedaled, stuttering, “Well, er, of course you should come back to school…if it reopens…but if it doesn’t…”

“What? I should stay away from you? Is that what you mean?” Her voice was becoming very high.

“Ginny, I thought you understood me. What I said at Dumbledore’s funeral, and why I said it-”

“Well I did!” she exclaimed. “I mean, I do, but-” She stopped short, because a very familiar bickering could be heard behind them, and that meant that Ron and Hermione were coming.

“Well, are you ready?” Hermione asked brightly, and Harry couldn’t help noticing that Ginny was looking at her very strangely. For some reason, it reminded him of Cho Chang, though the two looked nothing alike.

Harry nodded, and Ron said, “Yeah,” very sulkily, having re-packed and changed out of his robes and into blue jeans.

Hermione bit her lip nervously. “I don’t know if I can side-along you both into King’s Cross,” she said.

“Side-along nothing!” Ron snapped. “I passed my test last month!”

“Oh,” Hermione said, sounding a little too surprised to be flattering. “Well…that’s terrific Ron. Then you can go by yourself, and Harry and I will be right behind you.”

“Oh for pity’s sake Hermione,” Ginny groaned. “Harry can Apparate just fine. Why don’t you butt out and let him do it on his own?”

Hermione’s brow clouded. “Because he doesn’t have a license,” she said simply, as though this would explain everything and put the matter to rest.

Harry looked nervously from one girl to the other. They were staring very directly into each other’s eyes, neither one giving ground. Ginny was beginning to glare and Hermione was starting to look simply furious.

“Erm, maybe we should just floo into Diagon Alley and then walk to King’s Cross,” he suggested.

“Oh, just let her have her way,” Ginny said, but the two girls continued to stare at each other, their arms crossed.

Harry’s stomach was doing flip-flops and his eyes felt like they were at a tennis match. Having Hermione and Ginny behaving like this made him very uncomfortable.

“Ginny,” he started, and then Hermione exhaled in a huff.

“Fine! Apparate, do whatever you want!” she said, and then turned and stalked off. And before Harry could tell her that he had been going to tell Ginny that Hermione was right, there was a faint Pop! And she was gone.

As soon as she left, Ginny gave Harry a kiss on the cheek and said, “Be careful,” and then went back into the house.

Ron shook his head after her. “I don’t know what’s going on with those two,” he said.

“I know,” Harry said, puzzled. “They used to get on fine. I wonder what’s changed.” Harry looked into the night at the spot Hermione had just vacated. “Just the same, can you do side-along?”

Ron grinned. “Sure mate,” he said, and grabbed Harry by the arm. Harry had only a few seconds to pray that all of him made it to King’s Cross before they were pulled through a bottle.

************************

When Harry and Ron came out of the shadows at King’s Cross, Hermione was already walking towards them, her face business-like.

“I’ve already got our tickets,” she said. “The train departs from platform seven in forty-five minutes.” She handed them each a ticket, which Ron studied as though it were a new species of bug.

“It’s going to be weird, you know,” said Ron, who had never traveled by Muggle train, “Just getting on a train…not running through the wall first…”

Harry and Hermione laughed, then Hermione exclaimed, “Harry! Your shoe!” And Harry looked down to see his right foot clad only in a sock.

“Bloody hell, Ron!” he laughed. “You left my shoe back at the Burrow!”

Ron’s eyes widened. “Oh! Sorry! But you know I’ve never done side-along before,” he said. “Frankly, you’re lucky it’s not your whole leg.”

Hermione was laughing very good naturedly at all of this, and Harry thought that she must be pleased that he hadn’t Apparated on his own. Without a word, she discreetly flicked her wand at his foot, and a new shoe appeared. He smiled at her in thanks, and they went to board the train.

******

“What’s that thing?” Ron asked, gesturing to a little boy across the aisle, who was playing a hand held video game.

“It’s a video game,” Harry said patiently. Ron had asked about every strange Muggle thing he had seen since they boarded.

“Well, what’s a video game? And wow! Did you see that guy’s drink? The bottle made a hissing sound when he opened it! Is it enchanted, do you think?”

“No Ron, it’s carbonated.”

“Oh. Well, what’s carbonated mean?”

Harry groaned.

Hermione intervened. “Ron, you’re going to have to stop asking so many questions. It’s a few hours yet to Godric’s Hollow, and people are going to think that you’re…well…that you’re simple or something.”

“Simple!” Ron sputtered. “I’m not simple! And why do you have to be such a nag?”

“Why do YOU have to be such a child?” she countered, and Harry groaned again as they started in on each other, doing their old routine. He listened to the two of them sling insults back and forth for a few minutes before he said,

“Enough! Ron, be nice to Hermione. Hermione, be nice to Ron. I can’t stand any more of this bickering.”

“Sorry mate,” Ron said sheepishly. “It’s just the way we are, you know. It’s just what we do.”

“Right,” Harry said somewhat irritably. And he knew that Ron was right, fighting was their dynamic. Although the more he thought about it, the more it seemed that Ron was the only one who enjoyed that; Hermione only seemed to want him to be nicer to her. Maybe he should tell Ron…but he didn’t want to butt in. After all, they were a couple…

“Harry? What’s wrong?” Hermione asked.

Harry barely heard her. Maybe Ron and Hermione weren’t a couple. Ron hadn’t mentioned anything about them going out, but Harry had just assumed, ever since Ron had been poisoned, and Dumbledore’s funeral…the way Ron had stroked her hair…

“Harry?” Hermione said again.

“Nothing, I’m fine.” He smiled, although he suddenly felt very strange. There was a warm, tingly feeling in his chest that he couldn’t account for.

“You’re worried about something,” she said softly. “Are you still nervous about going?”

Harry stared out the window at the landscape going past in greens and browns. Nothing fantastic out there. Just trees, and grass, and normal animals, like deer and chipmunks. No dragons. No Whomping Willows. He thought for a minute about what might have happened if Dumbledore had never sent for him. If Hogwarts, and the rest of the Wizarding world had just forgotten that he existed. Would Voldemort have been able to return? Would Dumbledore still be alive? Maybe. And he certainly wouldn’t be starting out on this bleary quest to destroy Horcruxes, a quest that was starting to feel like the end, the true end of everything. Maybe he wouldn’t be going to see his parents’ graves either, if he thought they had died in a car crash.

Harry lowered his eyes. He was the Chosen One, but chosen for what? Chosen to bring back the worst wizard the world had ever seen? Chosen to be a pawn, or a bait in a war that was wreaking havoc in the lives of everyone he’d ever loved? His eyes closed.

“Maybe you should rest, Harry,” Hermione said from beside him, and he hadn’t even noticed that she had switched seats. He was tired. He was very tired. He’d been fighting this battle since he was eleven, after all. He leaned back. He would try to sleep. He had a few hours left on the train, and Hermione could answer all of Ron’s Muggle questions.

“Thank you, both of you, for coming with me,” he said as his eyes closed.

“Sure mate,” Ron said.

“Aren’t we always with you?” Hermione added, and he opened his eyes to look at her. She was right, as usual. They were always with him. Especially her. It was her who’d helped him rescue Sirius, who’d taught him the Summoning charm. She’d saved him from Rita Skeeter and almost given her life at the Department of Mysteries.

“Come on Ron,” Harry heard her say. “Let’s let him get some rest. We can go to the lounge car and get some of those ‘carbonated’ drinks.”

“Really?” Ron said, sliding out of his seat.

Harry listened to them chatter as they walked away, and leaned his head against the cool window. Everything seems all right when they’re with me, he thought, as he drifted to sleep. If only Hermione had been there, the night that Dumbledore had died….

********

They got off the train at the little station in the Muggle village of Godric’s Hollow. Harry looked around. If the place had changed since his parents’ time, he couldn’t see how it could have changed much. The whole village had a very rustic feel. Homey little shops and cottages, wooden signs. And the streets were cobblestone, if they were paved at all.

“So where did your parents live?” Ron asked.

“I don’t know. It was a cottage…nobody ever told me exactly where.” He looked around helplessly. He thought that maybe it had been a mistake to come. He still had that uneasy feeling, and the realization that he had no idea of where to go didn’t do much to quell it.

“Library!” Hermione exclaimed, pointing very excitedly to a shabby gray building down the street.

“Good eye, Hermione,” Ron smiled, and Harry saw her lower her arm and color a bit, like she was slightly embarrassed.

“Right, well, we can check the public records there; they’ve got to have something,” she said quietly, and together they set off down the street.

In no time at all Hermione had a table stacked four deep in newspapers and was leafing through them, trying to find the correct date. Harry and Ron mostly just tried to stay out of her way, taking away the papers that she dismissed and trying not to chuckle at the newsprint on her nose. She was mumbling quickly to herself as she read, and then she said, “Oh,” very softly.

“What?” Harry asked. “Did you find it?”

“Yes,” she said resolutely. “Your parents lived at 915 Knightley Lane. In a little cottage just like you said.” She snatched up the paper and folded it in half. “Let’s get going.”

Ron stood to leave, but Harry reached for the newspaper. Hermione shook her head and bit her lower lip.

“Hermione,” Harry said resolutely, and she let go so that he could read it. The front page headline was extremely large, black and bold: Couple Found Murdered; Baby Missing. Beneath that line was a picture of his parents, laughing and holding a very young infant with unruly hair and a perfectly scar-less forehead. Harry clenched the paper so tightly that it shook, and then folded it quickly and stuffed it into Hermione’s bag.

“915 Knightley Lane,” he said darkly.

*************

Harry stared up at the ruin of his parents’ cottage. The house, once white, was now a dingy gray, and the bluish shutters were either cracked or falling off. The yard was overgrown with weeds, and the front gate stood open like a yawning mouth. It looked like nobody had lived there in years.

“Your parents must have been the last people to live here,” Hermione said, repeating Harry’s own thoughts. He didn’t say anything, just walked through the gate, and up to the door, hesitating only a moment before opening it and going inside.

The musty smell hit him full on and made him pause. But if was a bit of a relief. In the back of his mind, he had been worried he would be reminded of the night of the attack by the smells and sights of Godric’s Hollow, but he didn’t recognize anything. Not the moldy and scattered furniture in what remained of the living room. Not the stairway that led to what he thought must be the bedrooms and nursery.

He could hear Hermione and Ron right behind him as he mounted the stairs. The floor beneath their feet creaked with an almost painful sound, and he heard his own voice tell them to be careful. It seemed to him that he was only watching this through someone else’s eyes; nothing seemed real.

Until he saw the crib.

His crib, cream colored with blue ribbons painted on it, he could see that, even though the paint was chipping away and one of the crib legs had broken, leaving the whole thing tilted to one side. He reached out tentatively to touch it, and could suddenly feel his body inside it, warm and only curious about the strange sounds coming from downstairs.

Harry doubled over as he remembered his mother’s scream, closer than ever before. Ron tried to pat him on the back, but he pushed his hand away and ran down the stairs and out of the house.

He didn’t stop until he was leaning against the rickety gate.

“Harry?”

“Let him alone,” Ron said. “Just give him a minute.”

“I have to see if he’s all right,” Hermione said, and a second later he felt her hand on his shoulder.

“What happened in there?” she asked.

“You know what happened,” Harry said shakily. “Voldemort killed my parents.”

“I mean, what happened just now?”

Hermione was holding his hand, and he couldn’t really tell whether he was leaning against her or she against him. “I could hear him,” Harry said, turning to stare back at the cottage. “I could hear him fighting my dad. And I could hear my Mum, I heard her beg…I’ve never remembered that before…” Harry was surprised to feel a tear slip from his eye. It seemed ages since he’d cried.

“Harry,” Hermione soothed him, and wiped the tears away as quickly as they came, as though she couldn’t stand to see them there.

“I’m going to kill him,” Harry said. “I have to kill him.”

************

A half hour later they had made their way to the cemetery, looking for Harry’s parents graves. Hermione had purchased some flowers from a shop, a bouquet of lilies and wildflowers. They had all fanned out, reading the names carved into the headstones. They had been walking for several minutes before Ron called out to them, and waved them over to the eastern corner, to two granite markers placed underneath a large walnut tree.

Harry stood before them somberly, looking down at the names of his parents. It felt very separate from them; he couldn’t quite believe that they were buried beneath his feet, forever.

“It’s a really nice spot,” Ron said quietly, and Hermione nodded. “Lots of shade, and they keep it up too. Nothing’s overgrown.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “I suppose if they’ve got to be-Oh…” His breath caught in his throat. He thought he must be hallucinating. He blinked once, then again, and rubbed his eyes. It wasn’t until he heard Ron say, “What the bloody hell?!” that he knew it was real.

The graves no longer read James and Lily Potter.

The graves read Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.

“What’s happening, Harry?” Hermione whispered, her face pale and her eyes very wide.

“It’s him!” Ron hissed in a high pitched voice. “It’s You-Know-Who! He’s here! He’s doing it!”

“Be quiet Ron!” Hermione scolded gently. “It is not!”

“Yes it is,” Harry said in a very dread voice.

“We have to get out of here,” Ron said, panicking.

“And go where exactly?” Hermione asked. “He can see us, obviously, if it is Voldemort-”

“Don’t say his name!” Ron half shouted.

Harry wasn’t listening to either of them. He was watching the ground above his parents’ graves tremble and shift.

“Hermione!”

“What! What is it Harry!”

Harry pointed to the ground, which considered to move and seethe, like something was going to burst through to the surface. “He’s trying to raise them! He’s trying to turn them into Inferi!” Harry’s voice was growing louder and louder, and he was beginning to shake. “Make him stop Hermione! It’s Voldemort, he-” He started to back away. Don’t let me see my parents dead, he thought in a panic. I’ll go mad…I’ll go absolutely insane…Hermione…

“Harry, Harry listen to me!” Hermione shouted through his fear. “He can’t raise your parents, do you hear me? That’s not the way that Inferi are created! He can’t do it! Listen to me!” She pulled his hands into her own. “He can’t do this. It’s just a trick.” She turned to face the woods nearest to them, and spun in a circle. “And it’s a cheap parlor trick!” she screamed. “Do you hear me Voldemort!? It’s a cheap, stupid trick! Do you hear me Tom Riddle?! Do you hear me!!”

“Hermione, it’s stopped,” Ron said, although he still looked scared.

Harry fell to his knees. “Don’t you see what this means,” he whispered. “He knows where I am. He knows how to get to me. And he’s not afraid to do it anymore.”

“He stopped, Harry,” Ron said again, sounding like he wanted to convince himself as well.

“No, Ron, he’s just toying with me!” Harry shouted. “Don’t you see? Dumbledore is gone! There’s no one- He can do whatever he likes! He’s got nothing to fear now!” Harry’s eyes blurred in frustration. How could Dumbledore have been killed? How could he have left him alone? Everything seemed suddenly hopeless, and all he wanted to do was lie down.

“Then we’ll give him something to fear.”

Harry looked up at Hermione. She looked angrier than he had ever seen her as she sank to her knees beside him.

“You and I and Ron, we’ll give him something to fear. Do you hear me?” She smoothed his hair back from his forehead. “You’re going to tell us all about those Horcruxes. We’re going to train. And we’re going to kill him, Harry.” Her resolute eyes softened slightly. “But first-” She was holding out the bouquet of lilies.

Harry swallowed. He took them and squeezed her hand, and nodded to Ron, who was shifting his weight from foot to foot and looking nervous. And then he laid Hermione’s flowers on his parents’ graves.

***************************************************

A/N: Whew, that got a little serious at the end there, didn’t it? Anyway, next time we’re back at Hogwarts, which manages to reopen! And soon we’ll get to see Hermione the Heroine! Hey thank you to all of the reviewers, all of you insightful, funny, and sometimes downright weird reviewers! I really appreciate it. And sometimes there’s like, a mini theory in a review. Bonus! I hope that I’ve been replying in a timely manner. If I’m not, yell at me about it! Seriously. Yell. All caps and that angry face emoticon. I’ll get the message.