Chapter 65: Three Little Words
McGonagall's arrival had not come soon enough in Harry's opinion. The woman ought to have collected him directly from the locker room and saved him the devastation of seeing Sirius with those girls. He couldn't understand how he could have moved on so quickly after saying what he said, doing what he did.
"It's not you," Remus assured him quietly as they followed the stern professor through the corridors.
"You sure about that?"
"It's Sirius. I talked to him last night," the boy said. "He was a mess, hated the idea of you leaving and being left broken-hearted."
He scoffed. What he had just seen was not a broken and heartsick boy. It was a determined flirt doing what he did best. It's what he had done before Harry arrived. It's what he would keep doing after he was gone. Pretty soon he would hook up with Tildy, who would give him the Sex Pistols album that had made Tonks swoon. Nothing had changed. Everything was exactly as it had been before.
"I swear it's true," Remus barrelled through Harry's despondence. "I think he used a memory charm on himself. I wanted to as well, but seeing him now... that's just wrong. I wouldn't want to live without Hermione in my heart. I think if he had the chance to see himself acting that way, Sirius would agree. He was better when he was with you."
Harry breathed a sharp sigh of annoyance. "Remus, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but don't. It doesn't make it easier. It makes it worse. He's dead where I'm going – died months ago after barely getting to know me. Now I know it's because he chose to be that instead of keeping me in his head."
Remus nodded and kept silent for a few more corridors. "Although, I'm kind of glad he did it."
"What?" Harry turned and stared at him.
"Think about it. You're leaving us behind. James is with Lily now, so he'll be off frolicking through the clover with her. Peter's determined to win Hooper back at all costs, so he'll be likely be in Madam Pomfrey's expert care until the end of seventh year or until he realises it's hopeless. That leaves only me. You think I want to be stuck listening to Sirius turn every conversation into one about you? And can you imagine how awkward that would get once you're born? All those lovesick sighs as he changes your nappies." He gave Harry a gentle nudge in the ribs.
"You twat." Despite it all, Harry managed a smile. "I will miss you."
"Damn right you will," the boy grinned. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to spend the rest of this walk with my girlfriend." He marched ahead to join Hermione, leaving Harry alone at the back of their little procession.
He watched Hermione link her hand with Remus', simultaneously hating her and feeling absolutely overjoyed for her. Ahead of them, James and Lily walked side-by-side. They were not holding hands. Instead they let their arms sway as they moved, allowed their fingers to brush one another's hand or thigh. At least in the respect, Harry wasn't doomed.
Professor McGonagall saw them onto the stairs to the headmaster's office with curt goodbye to the Grangers then left, most likely to put an end to the Gryffindor party.
"How many points do you think she'll take?" Lily questioned.
"If she doesn't take all the points we just won in the match, I'd be surprised," replied James. "Luckily, someone was doing their homework and earned more points with assignments than we did for all four games put together. We're a shoo-in for the House Cup." He wrapped Hermione in a tight hug. "Best fake daughter I've ever had!"
Hermione blushed with pride and pleasure even as she pushed him away with a huff of "Honestly."
The door was open, and Dumbledore was waiting for them just inside his office.
"Once again, I must offer congratulations for one of the finest games of Quidditch I have ever seen, and I have seen quite a few," the man said with a smile and a brief round of applause. The noise seemed hollow in the expanse of his office, offering none of the joy felt in the common room.
"Harry, if you would put this back on, we can send you home." He lifted the dragon's tooth necklace from his desk and offered it to him.
His fingers were slightly numb as he took hold of it. Even knowing what the leather was, it felt no different than it had before. It didn't tingle against his skin in the same way his wand did; Hermione likely had loads of knowledge about wandlore and what turned wood and a feather or a bit of leather into a magic amplifier, what made one wand right and another disastrous. Maybe it didn't tingle because it didn't choose him. Maybe without a wooden casing as its partner, the heartstring was simply incomplete. Shoving aside his lack of understanding, he secured the leather around his neck.
"Very good," the headmaster said. "Now we can begin."
"Just like that?" Lily questioned.
"I assumed you said your goodbyes over the course of this past week. But if you require a few moments more..." The man stepped around his desk and began busying himself with a stack of scrolls, acting as if no one else was in the room.
"We need a lifetime," James muttered. The boy turned to Harry, his face pulling into confusion. "Not really sure what I'm meant to say. I mean, I know you're my kid and all, but it's just... you're just... I mean, you're just Harry. You are a git, but you play good."
He couldn't hold his snort in check.
"Oi! Shut it!"
Harry laughed even as his heart ached. "I should've been spending more time with you," he said, unable to hide the sadness. "Shouldn't have let Sirius distract me."
"Much as I hate to admit it," Lily sighed. "He's a charmer. There was no way you could have held out against him for long once he started on you. Doesn't mean I won't hex him into next week, but there it is."
"And the git's not even here to give you a proper send off," James grumbled.
"We already said all that we were going to," Harry assured him, the ache in his chest redoubling as he remembered the hateful way he had pushed the boy away in the dungeons. He had thought it would make the leaving easier, dull the heartache if he controlled their separation. How wrong he had been. It hurt worse knowing Sirius thought he didn't care, knowing that Sirius cut him out of his heart and memory thinking that his love was one-sided. It wasn't. Harry loved him. Not as a friend. Not as a father or brother or any of the ways he had clung to so persistently. He was in love with Sirius.
He wanted to make a mad dash through the castle to tell him the truth, to make sure he knew, but there was no point. Sirius didn't remember him.
"I'll sort him out, don't you worry," James assured him. "Even if he did do something daft like Moony thinks."
There was little point in trying to talk him out of it, so Harry just offered a slight nod of acceptance. "Well, I guess this is goodbye."
"For now," Lily agreed, wrapping her arms around him. "I'm sorry I fancied you, but think of it as a compliment. You're a very handsome bloke."
He laughed wetly. "Ta."
"Stop that, you'll give him a bigger swagger than he's already got," James cried, swatting her hands away. He offered his son a brief hug. "Remember everything I've taught you. I expect great things from you, son. Bigger pranks than anything I could have ever dreamt of. And remember to write. You know how your mother worries."
"Yes, Dad," he said, trying very hard not to cry. He rubbed his skin, feeling the warmth where they had wrapped themselves around him. It wasn't the same as being hugged by a real parent. These were still teenagers. The talk they offered was little more than a game to them. It would be years before they truly understood what Harry was to them, but still he clung to the memory of their love encircling him. He'd never feel it again.
The step they took from him must have been the signal Dumbledore had been waiting for. He cleared his throat delicately. "Are we ready?"
"I suppose," Harry said. Really, he would have liked to wait just a few more years until he was born so that when his parents hugged him they would really be hugging him as their son and not the vague idea of who he would be to them.
"Miss Granger," the headmaster said, drawing Hermione's attention from Remus.
The girl offered one last kiss before turning away. Unlike Harry, her eyes were clear and untainted by tears. She had a Remus to go home to. Hurriedly, Harry wiped the water from his eyes, determined that the last thing he saw would be his parents.
"If you would stand by the trunk," the man directed as he readied his wand.
"Will it hurt?" Lily questioned.
"I would dearly love to answer that, Miss Evans. However, I truly do not know. Let's err on the side of caution and say it might sting a bit," he said with the barest of twinkles in his eye. "Wand out and hands clasped if you please, Harry."
Harry obeyed, taking Hermione's hand and squeezing it tightly in his left hand while his right pulled the wand from his pocket.
"Oi, Harry, find a better place to keep that before you accidently curse something off that you'll wish you hadn't," James called.
"Maybe I want a manly scar on my right buttock," he retorted, remembering Tonks's advice to him so many months earlier as she stood with him in the bathroom of the Burrow trying to put the contact lenses on his eyes. How different he had been. Skinny, to be sure, but also so broken and alone. This trip had changed that, changed him.
As he considered all the ways Malfoy's spell had backfired, Dumbledore shouted out the countercharm and a blinding red light began to fly at him. Hermione's grip on his hand tightened, forcing him to look away from his parents. She was staring across the room at Remus, her mouth forming three words: See you soon.
Quickly, before the spell struck, his eyes darted to the boy, whose face contorted in sickness and horror. Poor sod.
He looked back to his parents and hurriedly tried to form a message of his own: I love you, I'll miss you, Peter is dangerous. They all flew through his head, warring for importance, and then the spell struck. And it didn't sting a bit. It was excruciating.