32. Hidden city

Can't believe I'm back at school. Iona rearranged the books on the table in front of her for the third time then set about looking for something in her bag. She glanced up at the other students filing into the classroom, each one staring in her direction as they made their way to their places, some whispering to each other. They'll get over it. It's the first day of term. It's normal.

Since she was repeating the year she didn't know most of them. Some faces were familiar from the corridors or the school playing field, while others were completely unknown to her. 'I don't advise you talk about what happened,' Miss Holdsworth, her new form teacher, had told her. 'We've had quite enough talk about magic anyway.' That was true - she didn't want to talk about magic anymore either.

'They'll be scared of you,' Simeon had told her on the way to school that morning. He was still at her school, only now he was in the upper sixth. She liked his real name, and liked the fact that she was the only person at school who knew it. He had been in hiding for a while with his family when everyone found out they were wizards. 'They're scared of me now,' he had told her. 'That's one perk at least.' Spectre had turned little figure-of-eights by their side as they stood talking at her front gate, rubbing first against his leg then against hers. I'm sorry I never told you I was a wizard, he had said to her. She had told him to forget about it - given what had happened she understood his reasons. He had offered to wait for her outside her classroom when breaktime started - with a little subtle suggestion from her. The Circle was going to be handy for things like that, although she was going to keep it up under control of course.

She had disliked telling her mother that she would never speak to the others again. Justin, Eva, Rachel. Hermione. In any case, it wasn't like she needed an email address or phone number to contact them.

'What about Miss Herrick?' Iona had asked her teacher. 'What was everyone told about her?' 'Only that she died tragically, murdered by a man who mistook her for a witch.'

She looked up when the bell rang, pushing her hair out of her eyes and smiling at the teacher. Then she glanced around the faces in the classroom, being careful to make eye contact with one or two of them. Eyes bright and clear. A good student. Completely normal.

'Welcome to the sixth form,' said Miss Holdsworth, standing stiffly beside her desk and looking at the class with a kind of haughty wariness. She was obviously going to be a completely different kind of teacher. Iona looked down at the table, letting her hair quickly cover her eyes again. In an instant she had wiped the tiny tear from her eye. Helpless before the pain of the other.

Imogen lifted the edge of the net curtain and looked down into the square below. Hermione Granger was standing on the steps leading up to the front door of the building. She ran a hand through her ponytail as she presumably checked the flat numbers for the right doorbell to press. She quickly located it and Imogen buzzed her in.

She had the same haunted look as that night when Imogen had seen her leaning over the body of Lillian Herrick. She seemed more tranquil, resigned almost, but she still seemed somehow out of sync with her surroundings. She was looking around her with a kind of dazed interest. Probably for the best that Lorna's in Adelaide at the moment.

'How are you?' said Imogen. She hoped it wasn't too ludicrous a question given the circumstances.

'I'm fine,' Hermione replied. It was the first time she had seen her smile. 'I was just looking at your flat. I feel like I've been here before.'

'It's possible, I suppose,' said Imogen.

'This is going to sound a bit weird,' said Hermione. 'But then again everything I say probably sounds a bit weird. In another life I live in this flat.'

'Right,' said Imogen.

'Sorry,' said Hermione, reaching out and touching her with a cold hand. 'Don't mind me. To be honest, I'm really tired of being so weird. But I'm telling the truth.'

'Well,' said Imogen, 'I've had to swallow my disbelief over quite a few things in my job. Actually believing in magic for one thing. So why shouldn't I believe in parallel lives too?'

'Yes, why not,' said Hermione, smiling.

'Anyway, why don't you sit down?' said Imogen. 'I suppose you know where everything is.'

'Actually the decor is a bit different when I live here,' Hermione replied. Imogen wasn't sure if she was joking.

'Would you like a cup of tea?' she asked.

'I'd love one,' said Hermione, sinking down onto the sofa.

'I've got some butterfly cakes too,' Imogen added. 'I made them myself, which is a rare occurrence. Since I've been on sick leave I've had a lot of time on my hands.'

'That sounds really nice, thanks,' replied Hermione.

When Imogen came back with the cups of tea and homemade butterfly cakes on a tray, Hermione was sitting quite still on the sofa, her eyes fixed on the window.

'They'll be here soon, I expect,' said Imogen, putting the tray down on the coffee table.

Hermione looked back. She looked paler than when she had come in.

'Sorry,' she said, 'I just have these moments sometimes. My thoughts get a bit lost. Harry has them too.'

Imogen sat down at the other end of the sofa.

'I don't suppose there's anything I can do to help you.'

'No,' said Hermione. 'Sorry again for being so weird.'

'Don't worry about it,' said Imogen. 'Plenty of people have called me weird in my life. When she heard that I'd been offered the job at the Agency for Magical Affairs, my mother said 'Well that should suit you down to the ground'.'

Hermione smiled, her expression warmer.

'You were obviously the right person for the job. That must be why Lillian picked you to get involved in her … her arrangements.'

'So she was really responsible for everything?'

'For making the world know that wizards exist? Basically yes.'

'But as far as I understand it, she did that sort of for the fun of it?'

Hermione's face darkened.

'Revealing us? Yes, sort of. She wanted to wake us from our complacency as well. But really, everything she did was for a different reason altogether.'

'What was it?'

'Redemption. Or a kind of redemption anyway.'

They paused in silence.

'Do you regret that your world is no longer secret?'

Hermione chewed her lip for a moment.

'People have died because of it, and others have been arrested, tortured and terrorised. Those people are all on Lillian's conscience. But she wanted it that way. None of it had to happen, but even if wizarding society hadn't been exposed, other people would have died, or been hurt in some way or another. But one good thing that's come out of this is that wizards seem more unified now. And lots of younger wizards who were losing interest in magic have suddenly become proud of being a wizard again. That's about as much analysis as I can manage.'

Imogen swallowed.

'My life would certainly have been different.'

Hermione half laughed.

'So would mine. And despite what I just said I haven't felt so happy in a long time. Despite everything I just feel like I'm in the right place. That's the selfish response, anyway.'

'Don't you have a right to it?'

'I don't know. Maybe I do, maybe I don't.'

'What are you going to do now?'

'That's a good question. For now at least all I'm going to do is witness the next step in the history of wizarding society. Together with you and Caius, and Harry of course.'

'You're heroes a second time,' said Imogen.

Hermione shook her head.

'Ron's the hero now. He led the retaking of Hogwarts and got himself bloodied up out in front of the Ministry of Magic. I'm proud of him. He deserves the limelight. He might end up being quite a good leader. Harry and I just did some stuff behind the scenes. A lot of skulking about in dark places basically.'

'So I heard,' said Imogen, deliberately lowering her voice

Hermione looked at her sadly.

'But I want to distance myself from all that as much as I can.'

She didn't look as if she was managing it all that well.

'I just want to try and live normally,' she added. 'For once in my life. I'm all magicked out.'

'I suppose you can choose not to do magic,' Imogen remarked.

A glimmer of a smile crept onto Hermione's face. It even had a kind of a mischievous spark about it.

'It's harder than you think,' she replied. 'I tried not doing it, but I always still needed it. But now I think that maybe I've learned finally not to need it.'

Imogen looked at her a little oddly.

'It's funny,' she said. 'Magic's still so new to me. Not that I can do any of course. But I feel like I know so little about it. I want to know more.'

Hermione smiled again.

'Oh, I understand exactly what you mean. Though I'm sure you can find out a lot more about it from Caius.'

Imogen looked away for a moment. Then she looked back at Hermione with a sly smile.

Suddenly Hermione reached out and took Imogen by the hands.

'I can show you, if you like, what I'm looking for,' she said. 'With a little magic.'

'Ok,' said Imogen, her curiosity piqued.

Hermione brushed back a long strand of hair that had slipped out of her ponytail and looked straight into Imogen's eyes.

'Which kind of magic is this?' she asked in a low voice. 'I know you practise two kinds.'

'This is the kind called the Seven-Pointed Circle,' said Hermione. 'It went into the making of what I'm going to show you.'

As she spoke her last words, the living room dissolved. Instead Imogen saw before her a landscape of green hills dropping away towards a grey sea. On one of the hills stood a small cottage. A cool, steady rain was falling on the scene.

'Over there,' said Hermione, pointing towards the house. 'That's where I'd like to get to.'

Just then the doorbell rang. Imogen looked around her and they were back in her living room.

Hermione glanced round at the window.

'I think they're here …'

Imogen let them in. When they entered the flat, Harry too looked around with a quizzical expression. He whispered something in Hermione's ear as he kissed her on the cheek and she nodded discreetly. Caius seemed to be in a particularly good mood. Imogen kissed him for a long moment and sat down very close to him on the sofa.

'Well folks', said Caius, resting his hands on spread-eagled knees, 'I hope you're ready for this momentous occasion.'

'Just out of curiosity,' said Harry, turning to Imogen, 'and no offence intended, but I was wondering who got you your invite? It's just that I doubt that he (here pointing at Caius) has the clout, and I think I understood that you're pretty much the only non-magical person attending. Not even the Prime Minister is going.'

'Well,' said Imogen, colouring slightly. 'I will be reporting to the Prime Minister's Office on what I see, for one thing. And as for the invitation, it was Mr Weasley who gave it to me.'

Caius smiled.

'It's Mr Weasley already is it? Yes, I suppose he would have the authority …'

'I didn't realise I'd be the only … non-magical person attending,' Imogen replied. 'I almost expected the press to be there.'

'The wizarding press will be there,' said Hermione. 'Technically you're the only non-magical person with an invite. Rachel Thirlwell will be there, and although some wizards would describe her as a muggle, she's a long way from being anything of the sort. But I think it's right that some things are done like in the good old days, when wizards were still secret.'

More than a hundred witches and wizards stood on the shore of the Black Lake. Each of them had memorised part of the blueprint for the new city that was to be raised there; each wizard had a section of street, or a building, or part of the surrounding wall to conjure. Ron stood at the centre of the group, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Vantricia Bellu at his side. Myra Tremayne, Mortimer Knott and Luther Penhaligon were all in the vicinity, though they might just as well have been trying to position themselves close to Ron as to Kingsley. Tobias Destrument and Draco Malfoy were also in prominent positions. Just behind them stood Beth McAuliffe, Ginny, Neville, Luna, Mr and Mrs Weasley, George and Percy Weasley, Professor McGonagall and Hagrid. Beyond them wizards and witches stood in circles and lines fanning out from the central group. Harry and Hermione stood off to one side, together with Isaac, Argenta, Henoc and Rachel. Imogen stood next to Caius, who was discreetly holding her hand. For a moment she glanced behind her at Sioned, who winked at her from among the ranks of the Coven of the White Tooth.

The idea of a new wizarding city had been Kingsley's. He had worked on it during the months of exile, pencil sketching its layout, position and relief on countless sheets of paper, all annotated with indications on materials, the number of wizards it could hold, even on new magical protections that could be put in place. It became a kind of obsession, Kingsley had explained when he first presented the idea to the Union of Wands. It kept me going on when we were on the road. I figured it was the least I could do, to offer something new for wizarding society, after being such an indifferent Minister for Magic.

Ron was the first to raise his wand. He fired a white mark, which rose into the sky over the water, spinning and coalescing into itself and then dropping down and breaking apart across the water's surface. Then the gathered witches and wizards raised their wands aloft and did the same until the surface of the Black Lake was lit up with a hundred shimmering white lines. After a few moments, the white lights began to darken and grow thicker, forming into a single, golden-yellow sheet that lay over the water. Then the illumination faded from the sheet, leaving earth and rock behind it, forming an island with sloping rock shores rising to a plateau overlooking the lake.

They all raised their wands again, each concentrating on his or her piece of the foundation. Pale lines of energy shot from the ends of the raised wands and moved swiftly across the sky in an arc. When the lines reached their position in the preordained city, they exploded in all directions, tracing wall and street and square, and coalescing until the spectral outline of the new city stood before them in the chill morning, a grid of glowing lines and forms.

The gathered wands were raised once again, this time firing out a kind of shimmering black light. Along the line of the outer walls a great earthwork was raised straight out of the ground, and stone was brought up from deep under the ground and raised in a protective wall atop the earthwork. Smaller stones and rocks were summoned, colliding in mid-air, crashing, interlocking and merging before descending to the ground to form the city's street network.

All wands were lowered apart from those of the group at the centre of the gathering. They kept their wands aloft, and fired another black light, which coalesced at the centre of the new city and pulsed around the open square that now lay there. The black light rose into the sky and branched in all directions, surrounding the square. Then it dissipated, revealing a great stone hall fronted by a wide, pillared courtyard. The city glimmered over the lake, a reflection of the walls of Hogwarts, which lay above it on the hills overlooking the water.

Now the other assembled witches and wizards set about raising houses, shops and other public buildings on the newly laid streets of the city. This went on for almost an hour, followed by a good twenty minutes spent weaving a multi-faceted cloak of protection around the completed city. Then the wizards and witches walked freely through the gates of the city and went to their new homes to rest.

At dusk the courtyard at the centre of the city was empty. A cold, damp breeze was blowing around the courtyard. It was the typical kind of breeze that blew over the Black Lake, the kind that Ron, Harry and Hermione had felt countless times in their school days whenever they came down to the lake.

Ron stood in the middle of the courtyard with his back to the great doors of what they were calling the Hall of the Union. That was its provisional name, anyway. Ron hoped they would come up with something a bit more inspired. He looked down to the far end of the courtyard, where an archway led out into the streets of the city. The hidden city. The unnamed city. As yet unnamed, anyway. They would need a name for it, of course. But that would come. They'd only just conjured the place up out of magic, mud and stone.

Two figures were standing under the entrance to the courtyard. Ron strode forward to meet them. They met somewhere out in the middle.

'So, what do you think?' said Ron.

'It's beautiful,' said Hermione. Ron smiled.

'Yeah, it's amazing,' said Harry. Ron smiled again.

'Glad you like it.'

'I was just wondering,' said Harry. 'What's going to happen to the Burrow now?'

'Nothing,' Ron replied. 'It's still there, Mum and Dad will still live there most of the time. But if they need to come up here, they'll have somewhere to stay.'

'If things go wrong again,' put in Hermione.

'Err… yeah, if things go wrong.' Ron agreed.

Part of the reason for creating the city on the Black Lake was for wizards to have a place of sanctuary in future, if they ever needed it. Some people intended to live there permanently, while others, like the Weasleys, quite understandably wanted to go on living where they always had. And now there was no particular danger associated with living in a place like Ottery St Catchpole, apart from the risk of random manifestations of anti-wizard feeling, which could happen anywhere wizards were known to live. On top of that, there was no more Array to monitor the casting of spells. The device hadn't been destroyed though, Hermione recalled quietly to herself. It hadn't actually left the Ministry of Magic, another artefact in the Department of Mysteries. Let's hope no one gets tempted to try and use it again.

The Ministry itself had resumed operations, though many of its old staff had been understandably reluctant to go back to work there. There was no putting it back underground, but work was under way, some magical and some non-magical, to give it a more wholesome appearance, one more in keeping with the neighbourhood. Apparently it was even going to acquire a visitor centre. Will you be able to buy little plastic replicas of the Ministry, Argenta had asked Ron. Its role in wizarding society was in the process of being redesigned too, with some its powers moving into new institutions that were emerging. For the first time, muggles would have a role to play in running wizarding affairs, much to the horror of certain illustrious wizarding families, who were determined to use their clout to make sure that any joint committees with muggles had as little influence as possible.

'So this is where your parliament will meet, is that right?' said Hermione, pointing to the tall, classical-looking building that dominated the courtyard.

'That's right, the Union of Wands,' Ron replied, glancing over his shoulder to have another look at the place.

'Who are its members?' said Hermione.

'Oh, the usual venerable witches and wizards. And me.'

'Good for you,' said Harry. 'You deserve it.'

'And good luck with those venerable witches and wizards,' added Hermione.

'Yeah, I know,' said Ron, smiling. He paused for a moment, then added in a rueful voice: 'Draco's been nominated.'

'The one and only Draco?' said Hermione, a smile at the corners of her mouth.

'Like I said, he was nominated,' Ron replied. 'But to give him his due, he's more sensible than he used to be.'

'Strictly speaking that's not saying much,' said Hermione.

'Anyway,' said Harry, patting Ron on the back. 'You'll be here to keep him in line.'

'Kingsley's accepted a nomination too, you know,' Ron protested.

'And what about Myra, and Mortimer, and Luther?' asked Harry wryly.

'Yeah, they've been nominated too,' Ron replied quietly.

'Are any of the people who were held prisoner in the Ministry among them?' Hermione asked. 'I heard that Harold refused his nomination.'

Ron nodded.

'He said he's retiring. But Tadgh O'Dowd has accepted.'

'Well that's something,' Hermione replied.

'48 wands we are in total,' said Ron.

'And all sorts of different views are represented,' said Hermione.

'Yeah, all sorts.'

They paused in silence for a few moments.

'Speaking of wands,' said Harry, 'we'd like to ask you a favour.'

Ron looked up, his brow furrowed.

'Yeah, what's that?'

'We want you to look after ours for us,' said Hermione.

'What do you mean?'

'We can't stay here,' said Harry.

Ron looked down at the ground. The paving stones were perfectly arranged, free of any defect or blemish. He had rather expected that they wouldn't stay. He hadn't a clue what it was they were going to do. Since the day they walked back into Hogwarts they had seemed to him secretive and inscrutable. The feeling had continued in the wake of the battle in Sorcery Square, at the funerals of the seven wizards who had been killed in the Ministry, in brief moments here and there when they'd had time to talk. They were always together and always a bit detached.

'More than that,' added Hermione. 'We have no use for magic at the moment.'

'So we thought you could keep them here for us,' said Harry. 'This seems like as safe a place as any.'

'We don't know what the protocol is for such cases,' added Hermione. 'And it seems a bit negligent to just leave them at home in a drawer and forget about them.' Where will home be? she wondered. They hadn't quite got to the point of discussing it yet, apart from a few snatches of conversation. Grimmauld Place was a possibility, but that would hardly be a break with the magical world. She had started work on her house under the red sky; not as a place to live, but as a kind of template for the kind of house she hoped they would find somewhere.

With that, the two of them reached into their pockets, took out their wands and held them out to Ron. Not sure what else to do, he took them and stuffed them into the pockets of his jacket.

'Thanks,' said Hermione.

'How long do you want me to keep them?' asked Ron.

'Don't know really,' said Harry. 'We may need them someday.'

'Just not for the foreseeable future,' said Hermione.

'Don't you think it would be safer if you kept them, wherever you're going?' asked Ron. 'The outside world has not exactly embraced wizards as part of the community. Not all of the witch hunters have given up.'

'No, they never will,' Hermione replied.

'We'll be alright,' said Harry. 'And besides, we can manage a bit of magic without having a wand in our hands.'

'You're choosing the muggles,' said Ron in a monotone voice. 'Why don't you want to join us here? We need all the good people we can.'

'It's not a question of choosing the muggles,' Hermione replied. 'It's just about going living somewhere quiet and out of the way.'

'Didn't you try doing that before?' Ron asked.

Hermione shot him a strange, pained kind of look and said nothing.

'We can't be public figures anymore,' said Harry. 'And as much as I value and esteem Draco, I don't really fancy trying to run the wizarding world together with him.'

Ron shrugged.

The wind whipped up for a moment, blowing their hair about.

'We just want to do something else really,' said Hermione.

'And after all,' Harry added. 'We're still actually pretty young.'

Hermione smiled.

'I suppose we are.'

She turned to Ron.

'It's going to be difficult, making all this work,' she said, gesturing at the city around them. 'But we have faith in you.'

'Are you going right now?' he asked, his voice coming out slightly wrong.

'We thought we'd go tomorrow,' said Hermione quickly. 'Or maybe the day after.'

'Yeah, it'd be nice to spend at least a night here,' Harry added. 'If there's room for us somewhere. Maybe have a drink or two with everybody.'

Ron grinned.

'I'm sure we can sort something out.'

The sun had come out, and the courtyard was divided into sections of light and shade from the enclosing pillars. As promised, Harry and Hermione had stayed two nights in the new city. It had been as much like old times as they could manage. They had caught up with as many people as possible. One particular surprise had been seeing Teddy there, who had been brought up especially to see his godfather. He had been in good spirits to the point of overexcitement, and had taken very naturally to Hermione's new status in Harry's life.

Harry and Hermione hugged Ron in turn then turned to go. At the last moment, Ron caught Hermione by the arm.

'Hermione, can I have a word, just for a moment?'

He had never quite found the moment over the previous two days: always too many people around, wanting to have a drink, talk about the future or reminisce.

With a nod to Hermione, Harry walked away and went to stand under a pillar at the courtyard's edge. He and Ron had said everything they needed to the night before, drinking wine on the roof of the house where they were staying after Hermione had gone to bed.

'What is it?' she asked, a glimmer of curiosity in her eyes.

Ron's face was sombre in the morning sun.

'I just wanted to say thanks.'

'Ron, the last thing you should be saying to me is thanks …'

Something in his expression made her stop short.

'Thanks for sending Fred to me, I mean,' said Ron. 'You know what I'm talking about, don't you?'

His eyes suddenly seemed to her like grey monochrome. He knows what happened to him in the other place too. His hand was cold on her arm.

'Yes, I know,' she replied. 'And in a way I'm not surprised that you know too.'

'It's just a feeling,' said Ron. 'The vaguest feeling. But I know it's true. I often think about it. What was it like there?'

She shivered.

'Are you sure you want to know? I mean, in a way, what happened there never really happened. Or not here at least.'

'Forget about all that. Just tell me one thing about him. Did he know too?'

She looked at him sadly, her eyes as cold as his. Of course he would want to know that.

'Yes, he knew too. When he saw me, it was as if he could see both places, both destinies. It made him feel funny. But he had a few drinks and the effect wore off. When we left he was in his usual high spirits, him and George winding up your Mum.'

She felt his grip on her arm harden.

'I saw him too,' he murmured, his voice suddenly hoarse. 'He sort of paid me a visit.'

She smiled.

'I'm glad,' she said softly. 'Glad there are other ways of connecting here with there.'

Ron sort of chuckled to himself.

'I suppose he was just living a normal life.'

'He was,' said Hermione in a stronger voice. 'It was wonderful to see him and George walking towards me together. Terrifying, but lovely at the same time.'

Ron nodded, although his head barely moved.

Hermione raised her other arm to his.

'It was desperation that led me to agree to go there. I saw things I shouldn't have seen.'

She felt his muscles tighten and she let go of his arm.

'But it's just one version of events. One where the curse destiny intended for him caught you instead.'

'Is that what happened?' he asked, almost in a whisper.

'I don't know exactly what happened. If I dug deep enough into … well, into the other Hermione's memories, maybe I could see, but I don't want to. I just meant it as a metaphor.'

'Right,' said Ron in the same deflated voice.

'You know,' said Hermione, trying to seem brighter, 'taking into account all possible permutations, I think that the odds are in your favour. You're supposed to be alive. So make the most of it.'

Ron shot her a grim smile. She sounded a little like the old Hermione.

'I intend to.'

They looked at each for a moment in silence.

'What about you?' said Ron.

She seemed to look beyond him. Her eyes always seemed distant to him now.

'I can't quite get my head around it at the moment,' she replied.

'Around what?'

She paused before answering, as if she were contemplating how to answer.

'Well,' she began. 'Being alive, I mean.'

Another pause.

'Does that sound weird?'

Ron half-shrugged, half shook his head.

'I think I see what you're getting at.'

For an instant her eyes were with him again. But they brought with them a different kind of coldness.

'Don't look too closely,' she said, a trace of warning in her voice.

'I understand,' said Ron. 'Sorry.'

'You don't have to say sorry,' said Hermione. 'I meant that it's for your own good. There are things behind my eyes… But I don't want to talk about it. I don't think I even can.'

Her eyes flitted again to some distant point, as if she was looking for someone.

'Where's Harry?' she said, in an agitated, distracted tone.

'He's … he's waiting for you outside,' said Ron.

'I only …' she began, her voice faltering. 'I only … well, you know. I'm sorry.'

'I understand,' said Ron.

She seemed to come back to him.

'Anyway, bye for now,' she said finally.

'Um... bye.'

She started to go then stopped.

'Ron?'

'Yes.'

'You're going to be fine and I'm really happy for you.'

He smiled. She had been very sweet to Beth when they had met.

'But are you?'

She paused, thinking how to answer.

'Going to be fine?' she asked. 'It'll be a bit of a winding road but I think I will. Harry will keep me on it.'

'So you'll be coming back this way some time?'

She smiled.

'Count on it.'

Then she turned away and walked quickly back over the courtyard, disappearing into the shadows that rose under its walls.

He stood still in the centre of the courtyard. The sun was gone momentarily, hidden behind a cloud. At last he turned and looked around at the structure around him, and then out towards the horizon, waiting until the sun came out again. He walked back to the new oak doors of the Hall of the Union, the parliament as Hermione had called it, took out his wand and spoke the incantation that made the doors open. He stood on the threshold, looking up at the carvings around the door, then glanced back over his shoulder at the now empty courtyard. With a rueful smile, he stepped over the threshold and went inside.

The morning sky over the Black Lake was covered, as they had seen it so many times before. The streets they walked on were pristine, gleaming new and strikingly empty.

'Do you think it'll work?' said Harry, suddenly glancing at Hermione.

'It's some sort of democracy,' she replied. 'I should think it's the least worst solution'.

The windows on the buildings as they passed were mute and dark, with many shutters closed and curtains still drawn. They turned onto a wide avenue lined on either side with grand buildings of multiple stories that led to the city's main gate.

'It is beautiful here, I have to admit, but it's surreal, don't you think?' said Hermione, looking up at a beautifully carven gable and the latticed window beneath it. She thought she saw someone looking down at them from the window, but she couldn't be sure.

'I suppose it'll look more real after a few years' exposure to the elements,' replied Harry. 'Although, are buildings made through magic affected by rain and snow and wind?'

'I don't know,' said Hermione. 'Maybe not. Maybe there's an enchantment for aging magical buildings. But when it comes to magic I have to admit I'm less curious than I used to be.'

They smiled at each other and walked on.

They passed under the gate that led out of the city and found themselves in front of its walls, on the brief rocky expanse that led down to the lake. A covered causeway led back to the shore. Isaac Edwards' car was parked not far from the lake's edge, He was going to be giving them a lift. Only they hadn't yet decided where they were going.

Hermione looked back at the walls of the wizarding city.

'Goodbye,' she said under her breath. 'And good luck.'

Slowly the gates before them faded into the grey morning. They set off along the causeway, which faded and disappeared behind their footsteps.

They looked back again. Now they could only see a vast, empty lake behind them. Even Hogwarts was hidden from view. It was still there of course, they knew it was there, just as the wizarding city was. But just then they didn't want to see them.

'So what do you want to do now?' said Harry, taking Hermione's hand as they stood on the shore.

Hermione smiled. She hoped the smile was a bright one.

'Just live.'

He smiled in reply.

'Sounds good to me.'

Her face darkened.

'Only …'

'What?'

'Are we properly alive, Harry? I'm not quite sure.'

He touched her cheek. The cold leapt to his finger and spread down his arm. As it crept inside, the cold within him sprang up to meet it, to mingle with it.

'We are,' he said firmly. 'Really we are.'

'It's funny,' she said, smiling as she touched his face. 'Being with you helps me keep the memory of the dead away, if you see what I mean?'

He nodded.

'Yes, I do.'

'You remember how we once said one look a year is enough?' she said, her hair blowing in the wind.

'Of course,' Harry replied. 'But I take it back now.'

Her expression brightened.

He took hold of her by the waist. The kiss was long and effortless.

'So,' said Harry when they broke apart. 'Right now I suppose we could pretty go anywhere or do anything?'

'Pretty much,' she replied languidly, wrapping her hands back around his neck.

They began to walk back towards the car. They could see Isaac and Argenta through the windscreen, looking discreetly away from them.

'How does Rome strike you as a destination?' he asked suddenly.

She smiled.

'I can picture us there. It's as if we've been before.'

He nodded and she could see he caught her meaning.

'But there's somewhere I'd like to go first, if that's ok.'

'There's no rush.'

'It won't be as glamorous as Rome though. There's someone there I need to see again. I hope she still has a spare room where we could stay for a while. Just for a while. That's all the planning I can possibly make for the time being.'

Harry smiled.

'What do you think?' she asked after a moment's silence.

He slipped his hand back into hers.

'I'll go with you,' he said.

The end