Chapter 79

It felt odd to be back on the Hogwarts Express after so many years, and even stranger still to have her son, almost a man, sitting across from her in complete silence. Beside him sat Hermione, sound asleep, her head lolling softly back and forth on the seat with the gentle rocking of the train, her riotous head of hair becoming more and more unruly as it rubbed against the fabric of the seat. Ron Weasley was markedly absent. Hermione had whispered to her as they had entered the train that Harry had broken up with Ginny at the funeral and now that Ron had found out he was furious with him.

They were a full hour into the trip, and in all that time Harry hadn’t said two words to her, only stared out the window at the darkening skies and green fields as they raced by. The train came to a curve, rocking on the tracks a little more strongly than normal and Hermione slid down the seat with a small snore, her head coming to rest on Harry’s shoulder. He looked down at her for a moment, pushed a little hair out of her eyes and then went back to staring out the window.

It was really getting ridiculous. If they were to both live through a summer at Petunia’s then they would need to be united, not like this, not talking, barely acknowledging one another’s existence.

“Harry…” She spoke quietly, not wanting to wake the girl beside him.

His eyes turned to meet hers in earnest for the first time in days, and she smiled weakly. “Harry we need to talk. We can’t keep on like this.”

His eyes flitted down toward Hermione, and then at the rack above her head. He nodded rather begrudgingly. “Yeah…yeah, if you want…” he whispered, and then slowly slid out from beneath her weight, lowering her gently to the seat. Reaching up he pulled a blanket down from the rack above and laid it over her before coming over to sit beside her. He stared over at the girl sleeping. “So…”

“So…so, you haven’t really spoken to me since it happened, Harry. We have to talk about this.”

His eyes lifted to meet hers and she saw such darkness there it made her shudder involuntarily. “You don’t want to hear what I have to say …”

She held his gaze, as difficult as it was. “Yes Harry, I do.”

“You want to know what I think, what I feel? You really want to know?!” he spat in a harsh whisper.

“Yes.”

“Fine. I hate him. I hate him more than I’ve ever hated anyone in my life, and when I find him – not if - when – I am going to kill him, as slowly and painfully as I possibly can…”

“Harry, please…”

“You wanted to know,” he snapped. “Well now you know.”

His voice was cold, numb, dead, and she worried for him. “Don’t Harry. Don’t hate. I know it’s hard, but…”

“But what? You’ll defend him to your dying breath, won’t you…?” He choked on the words as though they made him sick.

“I loved Albus, Harry. I did, and I am grief stricken that he is gone, but you must see that there are more important things to concern ourselves with at present than revenge.”

“Oh believe me, I know…if there’s anyone who…I know…” he finished lamely.

“What do you know? I know you were with Dumbledore that night. I know you were in the astronomy tower, you saw what happened, but you haven’t said a thing to me. I’ve only been able to piece together the little you told me then with what I’ve heard from others… Harry, I have to know where you went. It is vital that I know what it is that Albus has asked you to do.”

“I can’t tell you that.” He stated it plainly, looking straight at her. If she had hoped to find anything buried in the depths of those emerald eyes she soon realized that she was to be disappointed. They were completely unreadable.

“Harry, don’t shut me out. I love Severus, but I am on the same side as you.”

“You can’t have it both ways, Mum!”

“Yes Harry, I can.”

“No…” he whispered. It came out choked and she could see his eyes filling. “No, you can’t.”

“Harry, I do want the same thing you do. I want Voldemort dead.” His eyes snapped to hers at that. “He killed your father. He tried to kill me, and now he is trying to kill you too. Because of him I lost some of my dearest friends. Because of him…because of him I lost everything that was ever dear to me, and I want this over. If we work together we can end this all the sooner. Please don’t shut me out. I can help you.”

Harry’s eyes searched hers, and she had the feeling that he was sizing her up, deciding just how much he could tell her. Perhaps she needed to give him a little push. She had her suspicions after all. It couldn’t hurt to throw something out there and see how he reacted. “Well answer me this then, Harry. Does this have anything to do with horcruxes?”

He fought to cover his shock admirably, but she had seen a flash of recognition in his eyes. “So it does. Is that what you were doing with the Dumbledore the night he was killed; something to do with Horcruxes? I know he’s had you in private lessons all year, Harry. I know that he shared secrets with you, things he told you and only you… What did the two of you discuss all those evening up there in his office alone, hmm…?”

“Don’t…don’t make it sound like something it wasn’t, Mum! There are enough other people saying that…saying…”

She sighed, and then reached out and took his hand. He stared down at it. “I know what people say, Harry, and honestly, I’m not really concerned with that kind of rumor. You know what kind of relationship you had with Albus, and that should be enough, no matter what anyone else says, but if he has asked you to do something for him now, something dangerous…Harry please…I’m your mother. I need to know!” She squeezed his hand.

“You…how do you know about…? Dumbledore says they are really dark magic. Hardly anyone knows about them…”

“Albus and I talk, Harry. You are my son. There are things I needed to know.” It wasn’t entirely true, but to tell him that it had been Severus who had explained the concept to her didn’t really seem wise at the moment.”

He looked at her suspiciously. “You really want to help?” He sounded doubtful.

“Yes, Harry.”

His eyes searched hers for a moment more, and then pulling his hand from hers he reached into his pocket and pulled out something large and gold that looked like some sort of necklace. Pressing it into her palm, he nodded toward it. “That’s where I went with Dumbledore – to get that.”

She stared down at it. It was as large as a chicken’s egg, gold, and encrusted with emeralds in the shape of a serpentine ‘S’. “A locket?”

“Dumbledore thought it was a horcrux.”

“He took you with him to find this?”

“Yes.” He sounded defiant. She ignored it.

“Where was it?”

“A cave. I don’t know where. We apparated there. It was by the sea.”

She looked down at the thing. “You said he ‘thought’ it was a horcrux. How can you be sure it’s not?”

He nodded toward it again. “Open it.”

“Are you serious?”

He nodded. “Yeah, open it.”

She did as he asked. A small folded piece of parchment fell out into her lap. She picked it up and looked to Harry in question.

“Go ahead, open it. Read it.”

The hand was elegant but scrawling:

To the Dark Lord

I know I will be dead long before you read this

But I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret.

I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can.

I face death in the hope that when you meet your match,

You will be mortal once more.

R.A.B.

She gasped and let her finger run lightly over the bold words penned so many years before by a boy barely any older than her son. “Regulus…” she whispered sadly. “Oh Regulus, what did you do…?”

“Regulus?” He sounded instantly intrigued. “What? You mean Regulus Black?”

“Yes. Sirius’ younger brother. You know of him?”

“Sure. Sirius told me about him. He was a Death Eater – got cold feet and decided he wanted out. They killed him.”

She winced a little at the cold and matter of a fact way he said it. “It was a sad affair. His family and friends were devastated. Poor boy… but…if he wrote this note, really wrote it, then…then that means he was actively working to bring down Voldemort when he died, and if he got to this horcrux, then maybe…How many are there supposed to be according to Albus?”

But she could see the coldness returning to her son’s eyes again. He reached out and snatched the locket and piece of paper off of her lap, and folding it and sealing it up again, stuffed it back in his pocket. “I can’t tell you that. I…I shouldn’t have even told you that much.”

“Why not? I don’t understand this, Harry. I don’t understand why you have to do this alone. Albus could hardly have intended it…”

“I have to! It’s too dangerous. The more people are involved the more likely it is that ‘he’ will find out what we’re about and try to put a stop to it.”

She nodded. “Okay, that’s fair enough, but…why, why does it have to be you. Because you’re the ‘chosen one’? Because of some damn prophecy?!”

“Yes.”

She leaned back in the seat and brought a hand up to wearily brush across her eyes. “My God, Harry…How do you…how do you live with the weight of that?”

His eyes lost some of their anger, and then unexpectedly began to fill again. He shrugged.

With a sigh she slid over and reached out to him, pulling him close. He remained tense, and unyielding in her arms. She could tell that he was trying to appear strong, to not break down in front of her, but she continued to hold on. “You don’t have to do this alone, Harry. You are right, there are reasons to keep as few people involved as possible, at least on the surface, at least as far as what is visible, but there may be ways of letting people help you that might not be so obvious…”

He pulled away, his brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

She sighed. “I…I don’t even know, I just…” Reaching out she took both of his hands in hers. “Harry just promise me this. Promise me that you won’t turn away help if it comes. Use your instinct – yes; let your heart guide you in regard to whom you trust, but…but don’t exclude help if it comes from a place or a person you can’t believe it can or should. Just promise me that.”

She shook his head. “Mum, what are you talking about?”

“I…I just think that there are more people interested in helping you than you might realize. I don’t think that Albus would be foolish enough to set this responsibility on your shoulders alone, completely alone, without any outside help.”

The softness she had seen in his eyes disappeared again and he gently, but firmly pulled his hands from hers. “Yeah, well no offense, but I don’t think that I can even really trust anyone who Dumbledore might have thought trustworthy. He…he trusted Snape, didn’t he, and look where that got him!”

She felt the prick of tears coming to her own eyes then, and with a sigh she simply nodded and fell back against the seat again. “Just promise me you’ll be careful…”

“I will, Mum.” She thought she heard sympathy in his voice, but she couldn’t bring herself to look back at him. They sat in silence for several minutes. Outside, the sky drew darker under a gathering storm and the heaven’s let loose, the small compartment filled suddenly with the staccato of a deluge of raindrops beating against the window. “I’m not going back…” His voice suddenly cut through the quiet.

“Back?” She felt tired. “Back where?”

“To school, in the fall. This…this is more important. I…I can always go back if I have to, but…”

Her first instinct was to argue with him, but she was too emotionally drained. The tears that had been building spilled over then, and she didn’t bother to try and brush them away. “I’m sorry, Harry…”

“Sorry? For what?”

“That…that you have to be a part of this. All your father and I wanted was to end this. All those years ago… We first became involved in the Order to put an end to this madness. We…we should have finished it then. I never wanted this for you. You are so young. Too young to…” She turned her eyes wearily to his. “It’s why you ended it with Ginny, is it not? To protect her?”

His eyes flickered away from hers and came to rest on Hermione for a moment before returning. He nodded.

She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

They descended into silence again. Hermione shifted a little on the seat, mumbling something unintelligible in her sleep and then grew quiet again. All of a sudden the door to their compartment slid open, to reveal the very person they had just been discussing.

Ginny Weasley’s eyes scanned the compartment quickly and came to stop on her, her brow furrowing when she saw her tear streaked face. “Oh, hello Mrs. Potter. I…I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

She wiped the last of her tears away and smiled. “No, not at all.”

She looked briefly to Hermione asleep on the seat, and then her eyes finally found Harry’s. “Harry will you come and talk to Ron. I’ve told him it was both of our decision, that I’m fine, but he’s still being a git, and …” she sighed deeply. “I’m running out of patience…”

“What makes you think he’ll listen to me?”

“Well, I…I don’t know…Do you think maybe he’ll listen to Hermione?”

“Maybe.”

The girl entered their compartment then, and went to the seat to shake her friend awake. “Hermione…”

The girl stirred a little and then her eyes slid open blurrily. “Hmmm…what…?”

“Hermione, I need you to talk to Ron.”

“Ron? Why?” She sounded slightly disoriented with sleep.

“He’s being a git, that’s why, and he always listens to you.”

Hermione blinked once and then sat up. She looked down at the blanket that fell from her body as she did, and then over to Harry briefly before turning her attention back to Ginny. “What’s he on about? Still you and Harry?”

Ginny sighed. “Of course.”

“Mmm…” She stretched a little and then reached up to run a hand through her hair. Her fingers got caught in the curls and she scowled. Reaching down, she pulled a hair tie from her pocket and pulled the riotous mess back into a lose knot before getting to her feet. “Are you going to come too, Harry?”

“Will it do any good, do you think?”

“Well, it can’t hurt. Come on.”

He looked over at her in question and she smiled weakly. “Go on Harry. I’m probably just going to try and get some rest.”

The three left the compartment, and she was alone. She didn’t know why, but for the first time since it had happened the loneliness felt complete. Totally suffocating. Sliding over in the seat until she reached the window, she pressed her forehead against the cool glass and stared out at the artificial dusk created by the storm.

It had rained on her first trip to Hogwarts - poured rain - and at the time, as she had stared out the window at the landscape racing by, she had been glad it was raining. It was like the world was crying with her, sharing her pain at leaving home for the first time, leaving her family behind, sharing in the pain of losing her sister, and the pain that her one friend in this new and frightening world couldn’t seem to understand why that might hurt. As an adult she could understand why. What had he ever known of family or love, after all, poor boy, but as a child she had felt suddenly betrayed, and horribly, horribly alone.

It was a loneliness she felt again now. Life had an odd way of coming full circle. When she had first ridden this train all those years ago she been suddenly bereft of her family and had only Severus to cling to. Now, twenty-five years later, she had been suddenly bereft of Severus and would have only her family for comfort, a comfort that would no doubt be as weak and insufficient as Severus’ had been years before.

Letting her eyes slide shut, she let the incessant patter of the rain lull her into a restless sleep.