Chapter 16

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry inched forward watching the expression on his mother's face change to excited glee that he had noticed her. She urged him on waving him over franticly.

"Mr. Potter, your key," Grumnak suggested.

"Hmm? Oh … right."

Harry fished his Gringotts key from the chain that hung around his neck and handed it to Grumnak. He never broke eye contact with the portrait of his mother, but caught Grumnak, with his peripheral vision, inserting the key into the slot beside the Potter nameplate. The transparent wall of glass slid down into the floor and for the first time in his life, that wasn't a nightmare or a pensive induced memory he heard his mother and father speak.

"Harry!" they both said in unison.

Harry's teeth clenched in reaction trying to fight back the urge to run forward and hug a painting. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.

"Grumnak," he started. "I need Hermione."

Without speaking the Goblin left the vault and Harry alone with the shades of his parents.

Lily Potter sat in her portrait wringing her hands in frustration while James, if it was even possible, looked eager and thoughtful at the same time.

"Son?"

Harry's eyes turned to the portrait of his father.

"You're seventeen now." He said it almost matter-of-factly.

Harry nodded.

James thoughtfully returned the nod. "And seeing for how long we've been in the family vault I take it the worst happened."

Harry nodded once more.

Lily covered her mouth with both hands and he heard her sob. "My poor baby!"

Harry looked to the side and screwed up his face while closing his eyes.

"Lily, you're upsetting him." James chided.

"Harry, come here son. Let us take a look at you," James requested in a fatherly sort of way.

The youngest Potter stepped forward without thinking about what he was doing, and then stopped before preceding any further. Instead he turned and almost ran out of the vault. He slammed his back up against the outside wall of the inset in the tunnel and slid down into a crouch, shuttering as he pushed the heals of his hands under his glasses and into his eyes.

"This can't be happening. This can't be happening."

Minutes flew by as he listened to the pleading of his mother to come back in and the coaxing voice of his father apologizing and asking him to return. The sound of a cart stopping brought him out of his self-induced trance and to the worried eyes of his wife.

"Harry, what's wrong?" she asked as she rushed to his side.

He shook his head. "In there."

Hermione looked up and into the vault. "What?"

"Our … vault," he managed to stutter out.

Her eyes darted about not seeing what was bothering him. She stood cautiously and peered about to see if there was any danger then stepped slowly into the vault.

"Thank goodness," she heard a woman's voice expressed in exasperation. She tracked where the sound came from and saw the two portraits hanging on the wall.

"Great Merlin!"

"You must be Hermione," James deduced.

She looked to the sied where Harry still sat, looking out into the tunnel. "Um … yes, sir."

"I take it then that you are Harry's friend?"

Hermione gave a very short nod then seemed to change her mind in confusion. "Well, sort of."

Lily interrupted, "Hermione is Harry all right?"

She looked back out in the tunnel. "I think he's in a bit of shock if I had to guess."

James seemed to be the voice of reason. "We know we're … dead. I'm sorry he had to see us this way after so long."

"Could you talk him into coming back in here. I need to see him, Hermione … please," pleaded Lily.

"You're doing fine, Hermione," called Harry from outside. "Give me a few more minutes."

She nodded then moved in to get a better look at the portraits of her in-laws.

James motioned downward. "Pull out a chair." He looked over to the portrait of his wife. "We'll just get to know you a bit and Harry can join us when he's ready."

Hermione did as instructed and pulled one of the armchairs out in front of the display case, setting herself in a proper fashion before the inevitable interrogation began.

James started off. "So how long have you known our son?"

"Since first year, sir."

James frowned. "You can call me James if you want. I mean I don't look that much older than you, do I?" he joked.

"James, don't tease her she's … oh!"

Hermione followed Lily's gaze down to her hand. She covered it up looking rather guilty in the process.

An arched eyebrow was returned to her from Lily's portrait. "Exactly how do you know our son?"

Hermione gave a very weak smile. "A-heh … that's a very long story …"

James leaned forward as if to get a better look only to stop as if he remembered he was locked in a wizarding portrait. "We seem to have some time – that is if you feel comfortable talking about it?

Then a strong voice came from the doorway to the vault, "She's my wife."

Harry moved closer and laid a protective hand on Hermione's shoulder. She returned his gesture by placing her hand on her husband's, now proudly displaying both of their wedding rings to his parents.

James' eyebrows shot up above the frames of his glasses. "Well now, I guess things have changed a bit since the early eighties."

Harry shook his head. "No, things are pretty much the same. Like Hermione said -- it's a long story."

Concern grew on Lily's face. "The same? So Voldemort's still …"

"Dead," Hermione answered again proudly. "Harry's defeated him."

James blinked rapidly goggling at his son and Lily's eyes almost bugged.

Harry strode forward and retrieved a chair from underneath his mother. "Perhaps we should start from the beginning."

He placed the armchair as close as he could to his wife and when he sat down she set her hand atop his and squeezed lightly, giving him the strength to proceed."

"It started on Halloween of 1981 …"

"Sirius should have had sense enough to dispose of all of those dark items -- a ring that possessed …" Lily scolded to nobody.

Harry snapped his head up. "Don't talk about Sirius like that."

"Harry," said James to cut his son off before he said something he would eventually regret.

Harry's eyes tracked to his father. "Sirius did everything for me ... he broke out of Azkaban and risked his soul against a hundred of Dementors trying to get to Wormtail before he could harm me, he fought off Remus when the werewolf came and tried to kill me and my friends. He supported and sided with me when almost no other adult cared whether or not I sat like a mushroom in the dark being fed copious amounts of bullshit."

Lily flinched and James stared on in grim determination.

"He helped me -- he actually cared about me. He ..."

Hermione squeezed his hand. "Mr. And Mrs. Potter, Harry was willing to go up against Voldemort and a group of Death Eaters totally by himself when he thought Sirius was in trouble. And Sirius gave his life defending Harry."

She looked down and then back up again. "I think it would be a good idea never to speak harshly about Sirius in the future."

"Son," James began. "Sirius was my best mate. I don't know if you knew or not, but he was best man your mother and mine's wedding."

Harry shook his head indicating that he was aware.

"Your mother wasn't being harsh toward Sirius. She was being what she always was ... his friend."

It didn't seem to be enough for Harry as he still stared on, anger holding his eyes.

James continued. "You mean to tell me you've never had a row with Hermione or your other friend -- what was his name – Ron?"

Hermione almost laughed and James took advantage of the break in mood.

"I thought not. That must be some friendship if you've never had one fight in seven years. Wow!" he said in mock surprise.

"Harry," Lily broke in. "I love Sirius like he was my own brother. I'm sorry if it sounded any different."

"Forget about it," Harry replied. He lifted up Hermione's hand and cupped it with his other. "I wouldn't have changed anything about last year. Hermione's my wife and I wouldn't have it any other way."

Hermione smiled sweetly and stood. "I'm going back up to the castle, Harry," his wife said before laying a gentle kiss on his cheek.

He nodded. "I'll be along in a bit. I want to sort through some of these things before I come back."

Hermione looked back up at Harry's parents. "It was nice to meet you both."

"You too," James responded.

Lily only smiled at her.

When the sound of a cart leaving signified their daughter-in-law's exit Lily finally spoke up.

"She seems like a very nice girl, Harry."

He nodded. "She's my life, mum. Everything I do … it's for her."

Harry tried to busy himself looking through the packages on the left, taking them out one at a time and unwrapping them.

"Harry," James said to get his son's attention. "Have you been happy?"

He paused in tearing the wrapper to what was obviously another portrait. "Erm …"

He didn't know how to answer the question. Certainly during the majority of his life he had been anything but happy. Spending almost ten entire years living under the whip of the Dursley's had not been a very happy portion of his life. In saying his happiest times had been when he entered school was strange for almost any child. But it was true of him.

Even those brief moments of childhood innocence had been marred by the ever-looming presence of Voldemort and the eventual death of his Godfather, quite possibly the lowest point of his life.

"Happy? There've been times …"

"I don't understand," replied Lily.

Harry tore at the brown wrapping and revealed a distinguished white-haired man in dark blue robes staring back at him. "It's about bloody time someone took that infernal wrapping off!"

He didn't bother answering back and only set the portrait aside. "It's like this, mum … I'm the boy who lived, the defender of the Philosopher's Stone, Opener of Chambers that Shouldn't be Opened, Conspirator of Escaped Convicts, Triwizard Champion, the boy with a saving-people complex, Vanquisher of the Dark Lord."

He spun on his heel and retreated to the opposite wall. "But it never stopped there did it? They had to keep coming. Now I'm the youngest Professor in Hogwart's history. Why? Because Dumbledore can't seem to find anyone else because the position is cursed. I'm Gryffindor Head of House. That's my own damn fault. And now I'm leading an economic revolt on the British Ministry of Magic by building a town out in the middle of nowhere. Happy? Have I been Happy?"

Exhaustion was etched on every inch of Harry's face. "I can't be happy, because every time I am … every single time I think I've done enough … something else comes along."

He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I can't be happy. There's someone out there right now who has a death warrant out for Hermione, and I know the second … the very moment I feel the slightest bit of pure happiness then she'll be taken away from me."

"Oh, Harry," Lily emoted with a large amount of pity in her voice. "You can't think like that."

He looked back up at his mother and returned his glasses to his face. "Sometimes I just want to take her to a desert island and put up every ward in existence until nobody can find us, ever again."

"Then why don't you?" asked his father.

Harry fell back in his chair and laughed aloud. "If it were only that easy."

"Why can't it be?" his father inquired.

"I have responsibilities."

"You're seventeen. From what you and Hermione have told us you haven't even had a childhood. Why can't you let the bloody world take care of itself for once and you take care of your own?"

The urge pulsed through Harry to do just that. What use was all of the gold in the world if he couldn't do something with it just for he and his family? Thoughts of Dumbledore passed in his head.

"Because they can't do it on their own, dad."

James almost laughed. "No offense, son, but aren't you getting a little full of yourself?"

At that Harry did in fact laugh out loud. "They've had years to get it right. Years to prepare themselves for Voldemort's return and when he did get his body back and started terrorizing and killing again – you know what they did? They ignore it ... pretended like he wasn't even there."

"But to put all of this on your shoulders, Harry?" Lily questioned.

Harry sighed. "I'm all they've got right now, Mum. They have a chance now to change things for the better instead of putting up with the same old song and dance routine from the Ministry."

He sat thoughtfully for a moment. "Dumbledore was right – They need a leader. And right now I'm in a position to do just that."

He laughed again. "He predicted I'd become Minister of Magic one day. Said they needed someone to look up to ... someone with ..."

"What, Harry," Lily asked.

"A vision."

Harry left instructions for the disposition of his parents' belongings to one of the Goblin assistants. The majority of the portraits, furnishings, and odds and ends were to be transferred to the new Potter Estate located at the highest portion of the mountain above the rest of the houses that were being built. The portraits of his parents were to be placed in his and Hermione's study at Hogwarts.

The walk back to the community Floo was quiet and became a reflective moment for Harry. He did indeed have vision of what the world should be like and that was something he didn't think he could entrust to anyone but himself and his closest friends.

He did come to one conclusion though. Once the new government was set up and seemingly running smoothly, he would take his father's advice and do what he wanted to do in the first place: leave this troubled existence for someplace a little more quiet. Someplace where he and Hermione could start a proper family.

He flooed back to his rooms at Gryffindor Tower and pulled out the Marauder's Map he had stashed in his desk drawer so that he could find Hermione and see if she wouldn't mind living on a little island in the Caribbean for a year or two.

"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good."

A quick scan of the third floor showed no sign of his wife, nor was she in the Great Hall for lunch. Harry's brow wrinkled as he turned from area to area in search of his wife, knowing she wouldn't go anywhere else … knowing she wouldn't stray because of the threat on her life …

She wouldn't … would she?