Author: C. Night

Rating: PG-13

Category: Action/Adventure & Romance (at least for this chapter)

Disclaimer: Anything that you, Harry Potter fan that you are, recognize does not belong to me nor do I claim credit for it. All of the people, places and things of the HP universe belong to a Miss JK Rowling and a whole bunch of other chosen people. Anything you don't recognize, however belongs to me and I would appreciate due credit for it. Thanks.

A/N: This is the end. Can you believe that? I can't.

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Title: Getting Out or Dying Trying

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Epilogue: Safe Haven

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Sitting cross legged on thinning, faded carpeting, learning slowly, but steadily just how exactly the game "Patty Cake" was played was not exactly what I had anticipated when I joined the Order of the Phoenix.

But here I was.

"Is it 'Maker's man' or 'Faker's man'?" I asked pretending to look baffled by both phrases.

"NO, silly," the young girl sitting cross from me chided playfully, "It's BAKER'S man! Come ON, Harry, it isn't that hard."

I smiled helplessly at the tiny blonde before me and shrugged, "I'm TRYING Mary, I really am! But I need you to help me more!"

The six year old heaved a playful sigh and said, "Ok, let's try again. Patty Cake, Patty Cake Baker's Man."

I repeated the phrase absently as my eyes grazed the room.

Looking at it you would not even guess that the room I was in was the most secure sector of the Stoanda Magical Research and Development Center.

Named in honor of the first Minister of Magic who actively supported the creation of new spells rather than outlawed them for their dangerous nature; this was not the first time I had been to the center.

I had come on one other occasion, during the summer with Professor Flitwick. As I learned that day, and at other points in my magical career, I have a great potential in spell creation, but as it is very dangerous I needed a certain license before I could actively practice spells of my own creation.

That, however, had been when the building was not under attack by Death Eaters.

Unlike today. 

Alright, well it wasn't under attack anymore. That, unfortunately, had occurred before the Order had known about it. So now we were doing clean up, looking for survivors, and... babysitting.

Ok we weren't babysitting.

I was babysitting and though I was very mad about it I couldn't exactly take it out on little Mary. Not when she and the other children were anxiously (those who know what was going on anyway) waiting to reunite with their parents.

Or perhaps waiting to hear that they would not reunite with their parents until the end of their lives.

'Dead. Some of these kids parents,' I thought as I looked around, 'are dead right now and their kids are sitting in here waiting for them, unknowing.'

It was horribly depressing.

But I couldn't be depressed right now. I had to keep these children occupied and right now I was only doing that for one of them.

Telling Mary that we would resume our game later I stood from my position on the floor and said to all the children around me, "So what would you guys like to do?"

I learned a lot about babysitting in that moment. The first thing being that taking suggestions from a room of about 10 different kids of relatively different ages is not so hot of an idea.

I could feel Professor Dumbledore's eyes on me, but I refused to look up. Not until I was done with the song.

Nope.

I was not facing those damned twinkling orbs until I was done with this. Otherwise I would blush and my throat would get all clogged and then I wouldn't be able to finish.

"You are my sunshine my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey. You'll never know dear how much I love you, so please don't take my sunshine away."

I closed my eyes as I held the last note for a little longer than all the others and when I opened them I was pleased to find that the majority of my listeners were snoring.

As I had hoped Mary, Bridget, Isaac, Michael, and Emily (the youngest of all those I had to watch) had been put to sleep by my lullaby.

Each was tucked into their own sleeping bags and pillows conjured by myself. Each sleeping bag had its own unique color and design and after much arguing and pouting I had agreed to sing the five tykes to sleep.

I don't have a particularly bad voice, but I don't think of my singing as anything spectacular.

The four older kids I was keeping watch over had been satisfied earlier when I had conjured them up a deck of cards and a huge pile of sweets for them to place bets with.

Alright so I was encouraging gambling, but I figured they were keeping quiet and that was always a good thing.

I scanned over my nine charges once again and then glanced at my watch 11:45.

In truth the five tykes should have been asleep much earlier than I had just put them down, but I had wanted to fully tire them out to avoid having to deal with them waking at random points throughout the night.

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat and I looked up at him, noting the fact that his robes are slightly sooty and he looks very tired. "Why Harry," he said in a somewhat excited whisper, "I was unaware that you had such a lovely singing voice!"

"Professor," I said irritated, "I hardly think this is the time. Now, is there anything other than this that I can do? I hardly joined the Order to baby-sit."

Dumbledore nodded and said, "As a matter of fact I came to get you for something else. Tonks and Kingsley I am afraid were called away on urgent Auror business unrelated to our situation here. The two of them had been performing the final sweep of the Center, looking for any survivors. So we need you to take that job up now."

I stared at him for a moment before I nodded. This would be fairly dangerous and when I looked into Dumbledore's slightly dulled blue eyes I knew he was worried that I was going to get hurt.

"Who is going to stay here with...," I wave my hand vaguely indicating all the children in the room.

Dumbledore smiles and says, "Now that all the young ones are asleep I dare say I will try my luck at poker and see how many chocolate frogs I can gather up."

I smile back and nod when he says, "You will have to do an entire sweep on the bottom floor and go up to the third floor and check the corridor which has a sign that reads, Sense Heightening Labs. As this is one of the most experimental parts of the Center expect there to be some rather heavy wards around the area."

I nod and adjust my robes absently before I suddenly remember something. I say, "Professor, has anyone been found yet?"

The old mage nods and say, "The parents of most of those in this room have been found and are in intensive care units at St. Mungo's right now. I am planning on telling them right now. However, neither of young Isaac Meloni's parents have been found yet. Nor has the mother of little Mary."

I nod sadly and say, "Well, I'll see what I can do. It was incredibly lucky that the Death Eater's did not come to the children's day center during their raid... or,"

I let the end of the sentence fade into silence and Dumbledore responds, "Yes, but despite the fact that this safe haven was very strategically located near the day care center, there may still be children in the building."

I nod for the millionth time as I take my wand out of its holster and turn away from Professor Dumbledore to face the door.

My black boots thump against the floor under me and I focus on the sound they make. I hardly ever wear boots so I find it interesting that they make so much noise.

Ah, I can't believe I was just contemplating that.

I open the door and am about to leave the safety of the warded haven when Professor Dumbledore says, "Harry, be careful."

I turn quickly to face him and say, "I always am," with a smirk.

He smiles back at me, but I think he knows that I have taken his words to heart.

Careful is good. It has taken me a long time to realize that.

After running through think clouds of soot and smog and putting out random bursts of flames, I am dead tired.

I inhale deeply and immediately start coughing. Soot fills my lungs and it takes me a moment to remember the incantation for a lung purification spell. Immediately after casting it I put up an air filter spell around me and enjoy the feeling of cool, clean air in my lungs.

The spell only lasts for 20 minutes, but it should give me time to do a pretty quick scan of the rest of this floor.

And then I was going to have to stop.

I was getting pretty tired and one of the beads on my Chaos bracelet was getting warmer and warmer every minute.

It was telling me that Dumbledore wanted me back. It had been growing steadily warmer for the past half hour and I knew that if I didn't start to head back the old worry wart was going to leave the kids alone for a bit and come looking for me himself. 

But I was angry. I hadn't found anything. Nothing except for char covered pieces of furniture and smog covered laboratory equipment. Alright, that wasn't really true. I had found something else.

Bodies.

Dead bodies that I had to cast cleansing spells on and then strap portkeys to in order to transport the bodies to the mortuary underground section of St. Mungos.

It was a horrendous feeling to see a body and think you may have found someone to save, a life to spare only to find that the person had already passed away.

It always successfully made me feel like a complete failure. And it had happened four times already.

It was probably the reason Professor Dumbledore wanted me to come back to the safe haven. He didn't want me to become depressed by the fact that I couldn't save anyone here.  

I do not have a hero complex. I don't NEED to save people, it is just preferable, I thought as I walked brusquely through the section of the building Dumbledore had specifically told me to visit.  

I can barely make out the words 'Sense Heightening Labs' in what I am sure was once a gleaming white paint over the entrance to the corridor.

I walk brusquely through knocking down ward after protective ward getting closer to the actual labs. I take a step forward and hear something snap under my boot. Then a loud shrill beep sounded down the corridor.

I felt ridiculously self-conscious. My breathing was starting to become labored and my eyes were darting around frantically.

What did that beep mean?

I wasn't sure, but since it had stopped I decided to press on. The bead on my bracelet was growing disturbingly hot.

The labs looked almost like a cross between the Potion's classroom and the room in which I had taken Science when I was 10.

Sectioned off into different areas by cubicle-esqe walls I didn't look around at the scenery too much. I was focused on the two women who seemed to be sprawled on the floor- immobile.

I rushed over to them and felt for pulses, trying not to get my hopes too high. But the first one I felt had a pulse!

I felt nearly deliriously happy as I rummaged through my pockets for a portkey that would take this woman to the intensive care unit of St. Mungo's and once I found the blue marble I shoved it into her hand.

She opened her eyes very briefly at the exact moment the portkey left and I knew that this very lucky woman who had astoundingly not been hit by an Avada Kedavra was the mother of a pretty little girl who loved Patty Cake.

I couldn't stop the smile that spread across my face, but I paused when I remembered that there was still one more woman here I hadn't looked at yet.

She had dirty blonde, straight hair and her arms were splayed at her sides. I couldn't see her face as her stomach was against the ground.

I felt for a pulse immediately, but my fingers were shaking so badly I couldn't tell.

I quickly cast a simple 'Infliction Verification' spell and felt my heart sink when a bright green light appeared around the woman.

She was dead. By the same spell that took my parents.

I turned her over as a tiny tear trailed down my cheek and was horrified to find that her eyes were still open.

They were an apple green color that I had never seen in someone's eyes before.

My fingers gently closed her magnificent eyes and I closed my own for a moment. Sending a prayer up to any God there ever was or ever would be to forgive me for not finding some way to help all these people.

'Alright, perhaps I do have a hero complex,' I thought as I placed a forest green marble in the hand of the dead woman and activated it.

The burning of the bead on my bracelet was too much now.

I had to go back. 

Sitting in the carefully warded and very high security intensive care unit of St. Mungos, I had never felt more out of place.

Dumbledore had asked me to help him take al the children whose parents had worked in the Stoanda Magical Research and Development Center to St. Mungos to the hospital to see their parents and in some cases file the papers declaring them orphans and putting them up for adoption.

I walked around the crowded wing carefully with a small clip board and pencil (so much easier than a quill and inkwell) taking down the names of all the family members who came to visit the injured or comfort those who had lost loved ones in the attack.

I looked down at my lime green healer's robes and rolled my eyes. The only way Professor Dumbledore could come here and still keep the secrecy of the Order was to disguise ourselves as Healers.

Of course those who actually worked here knew we weren't Healers but they had been briefed by their superiors, who knew about the Order (some where even members who had set up all the portkeys) not to ask questions.

I approached a young woman with light brown hair and asked her name and who she was waiting for.

I received the typical response and looked down my list to reassure her that yes so-and-so was indeed in the hospital and that he was doing fine.

This was the Stability Phoenix part of the deal. All the boring dribble that had to be dealt with by someone.

I pulled my little lime green Healer's hat over my scar for the 60th time when I thought I felt eyes on me.

This was not the time for autographs or gawking mobs, so I was keeping a low profile.

It was about 3 o'clock in the morning when most people had already cleared the wing to either get some rest in order to be energized to visit the next day, or left to grieve elsewhere.

I let myself sink into a plush chair in the wing and closed my eyes.

And then I felt a little hand tugging at my sleeve. Opening my eyes I found tiny little boy who looked at be about four years old staring at me.

The young boy was wearing hospital robes, but seemed to be perfectly fine in just glancing at him.

"Mister, can you find my mummy for me?"

I stared at him, confused before the boy sniffed and added, "Please?"

Furrowing my brow I said, "How would you like me to do that?"

The boy stared at me and laughed lightly, "Your paper silly! It's the People Finder Paper."

I looked at the boy hard for a moment before remembering his name. He had been in the safe room with me for a while several hours ago. His name was Isaac and if I recalled correctly....

"I'm sorry Isaac, but I don't think I will find your Mum or Dad on this sheet."

"NO," he said loudly, "That's not true! You did it for evewyone else. They come to you and say, 'Where is Mr. Jormshen?' and you say, 'Over in the Cuwse Woom.' And they say, 'Oh thank you, thank you.' You did it for them why not for me?!"

I was caught between laughing at the boy's uncanny recitation of a conversation I had had about 20 minutes earlier (and his amazing imitation of Mrs. Johanson's and my own voice) and crying at the fact that staring at this boy's apple green eyes I knew that his mother was not on my list.

I tiredly opened my arms to the boy, whose eyes had filled with tears and said, "I'm sorry Isaac, I really am. I know what it's like to feel alone, but you will go live with some other relatives now, okay?"         

The young boy did not respond, so I just rubbed his small back repeatedly until I felt his trembling stop and his breathing settle in slumber.

It was then that I flipped through the pages on my clip board and found under the heading 'Deceased' the names Eric and Melissa Meloni.

All alone, I thought. This little boy is all alone. The mere thought made me hold him to me much tighter than I had before.

And I made a promise to myself that I would do something to help this kid. I didn't know what, but I was going to do something.

No one should be that alone.

Walking through the rain with Professor Dumbledore, I felt ridiculously tired. 

It was 8 o'clock in the morning and after spending hours in St. Mungos doing everything we could for what seemed like hundreds of people, we had finally called it a night (er.. morning) and apparated to the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

I had my Order robes back on which repelled the rain that was steadily falling, but I hardly even noticed.

One foot in front of the other I was just making my way back to the school. I wanted to close my eyes and forget the bodies, the tears, the lists and lists of injured and dead people. I wanted to drown out the cries of children and mothers alike at the news of their deceased loved ones.

I especially wanted to forget the look on Isaac's face when I finally told him that his parents weren't coming back and more than anything else I wanted to forget the sound of the 'Emergency Contact' officer's voice when he told me that little Isaac had no living family members and was going to have to be adopted by strangers.

I wanted to FORGET, damn it.

I walked faster at the thought, trying to get to my bed even more quickly.

I was so distracted I hardly even noticed when I bumped into someone right outside the Hogwarts gates. I did notice that Dumbledore gave me a small smile before he continued through the gates and into the school, leaving me outside.

I stood up wiping mud from my robes with one hand offering my other to the person I had knocked over.

I felt a smaller and softer hand fall into mine and pulled the person upright, muttering an apology as I started to walk away.

"Oh, so the big Order member has no time to even greet me anymore. I am wounded," I heard the voice of the person I had knocked over say as I walked away.

I turned quickly and faced Blaise guiltily, "Sorry," I muttered, "I'm kind of distracted."

"Um- hum," she said as she looked me up and down. "I do believe that's true."

I turn away from her and say, "I'll talk to you later, as it's too dangerous for us to be out here together. Too many windows and all that. And plus I really need to sleep."

She stares at me before saying, "I think you should stay. You need to be..."

I stare at her, "I need to be what?"

Her brown eyes narrow and she says, "I don't know. You look like you need to be... cleansed or purified or something... I guess."

It was the first time I had even heard her stumble over her words and it got my attention immediately.

"And how do you suggest I cleanse myself?" I say seriously with the tiniest of a mocking lilt to my voice.

"Well, Harry," she scoffed, "It is raining isn't it."

I laugh, "Are you suggesting that I take a shower in the rain or something? Isn't standing in it enough?"

She looks at me seriously, "You are not standing it the rain seeing as that interesting robe appears to be repelling all the raindrops."

I smirk at her, forgetting my previous concerns, and come to stand closer to her, "What do you want me to do?"

"You know," she answers, "Blue was never really your color."

I get her gist immediately and pull the water-resistant robe off over my head. Under it I am wearing a black sweater and khakis, both of which immediately get wet.

The water flows in cool, tiny rivulets in my hair and down my face. I sigh as the water's pounding calms me and I close my eyes. Oddly enough I do feel somewhat cleansed by the whole process and lift my face to face the crying clouds.

After standing like that for a moment I open my eyes and see much to my amusement that Lacy, who had previously just been standing in the rain was now twirling around the grass with her hands stretched out on either side of her.

She looked like a six year old playing in the rain.

Her hair was hanging in wet locks around her face when she finally stopped spinning and held her arms out to me.

Needing no more invitation or explanation for her uncharacteristically childish behavior, I stepped into her open arms and immediately felt ok with everything.

I realized then that I had found my safe haven. And just like the only secure room in the Stoanda Center I knew she would keep me safe and sane no matter what.

8:17am on March 12th.

You would think that was an ordinary time of day, an ordinary day of the year. Minus the whole approaching Saint Patrick's day and all that jazz right?

Wrong.

For it was that moment when I, Harry Potter, realized that I needed nothing more in life than this precious girl whose arms I was in.

It was in that minute, in that moment, that I knew that no matter what life decided to throw at us- we could handle it.

We could handle anything together. I mean, come on, we were Harry Potter and Blaise Zabini...

As if there was ever any doubt.

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               THE END

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Author (C. Night) Notes: I can't believe that's the end. Whew! It's over! I feel sad. Ah well, it was loads of fun and I hope you liked it. Thank you, to each and every reviewer and to each and every reader (I am hoping there are lots of those). Thanks for sticking through all the evil cliff-hangers and tons of unanswered questions. This is the end of the line. To one and to all, don't forget to vote for your favorite sequel choice, but right now I am definitely leaning toward Diary of a Tainted Aristocrat. So for your reading pleasure (and a nice little farewell from me to all of you) I included a bit of a sneak preview of a scene I wrote the other day from that story (it's at the very end of this page). And the final choice for a sequel is up, it's called The Way of the Phoenix and I think most of you will vote for it. So I might write those two stories. Think I should change my mind? Well then let me know in a review. God bless all you guys for giving me a bit more confidence in my writing.  

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The sequel-ish stories are still open for voting and feel free to change your mind or vote for more than one. All five are up now.  Here we go:

1) Diary of a Tainted Aristocrat- A Blaise Zabini story which would be written from her point of view (1st person). It would begin in the summer before 6th year in which she interacts with good old Cousin Draco, Aunt Narcissa, and of course good old aspiring Death Eater Dad. It would progress into the school year when she becomes potions partners with the one and only Harry Potter. Read as her views crumble beneath her and she and Harry work to build up new ones together. It will NOT be in diary style. (Will contain the missing Valentine's Day scene from GooDT and the very beginning of the Harry/Blaise relationship.)   

2) Behind The Crucible- This would be very closely liked with GOoDT and would be the Order's POV on both Harry's testing and reaction. It would start before he actually took the test and would show exactly how it was planned and reveal every single little thing hidden in GOoDT that otherwise you may never know. It would be written in the 3rd person.

3) Through Hell and High Water- A Hermione/Ron story in which we explore their newly developing relationship and see just how JKR's seemingly canon couple will stand against my whims. And we'll explore their reaction when Harry finally fesses up about Blaise and the deeply passionate relationship he is developing with the Slytherin. How will it affect the trio's friendship? And will it cause trouble with Ron and Hermione's relationship? Um... YES!

4) The Periwinkle Twinkle- a series of narratives revolving around Harry Potter, but from the point of view of Albus Dumbledore. Will include Dumbledore's thoughts at various points in OotP and may continue through to my own story GooTD. Read and discover, as Harry put it, the "warped thought process" of Albus Dumbledore.

5) The Way of the Phoenix- a series of narratives from the point of view of the ever-daring, ever- amazing, temperamental and yet soothingly adorable Harry Potter. Each chapter representing one of Harry's exploits with the Order of the Phoenix, of which he is now a member. From meetings to missions to four year olds with nose bleeds to Voldemort with elemental powers; what will the Order cook up for Harry to do during the non-existent downtime of his 6th year? If you like my action sequences and "Harry-centric" stories- this one's for you.

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And now because I like you all so very much and you are all so very lucky you get a parting gift from me to you!

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*Sneak Previews* from Diary of a Tainted Aristocrat- (Blaise's POV)

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Scene 1:

I walk into Potions class about 25 seconds before the bell. I don't like to be early. It gives people too much time to think about me. They see me sitting and wonder things about me.

And too much mental stimulation is not good for my peers. It makes them start little rumors about me to make up for their ignorance which then leads to me having to cast a series of memory-wiping spells.

Way too much exertion when it can all be avoided.

When you sneak in right before the bell, only the people you want to see you can find you, no meaningless talking with the insignificant beings I call classmates to bother with as the bell is always about to ring when I make my entrance.

My eyes immediately travel to Draco who, of course, is sitting with Crabbe and Goyle. It annoys me to no end to see him with those two buffoons, but Lucius told his precious son to talk with them and make friends with them, so he did.

Nothing I can say could ever possibly sway him. A fact that has always annoyed me.

Draco never says anything about it, but I know that he realizes their significance. His father wants him to have protection among the Death Eaters. Even now the two goons protect him from everything from Potter, to the Weasel, to even me, when I ever get the urge to throw a solid right hook in his direction.

The two will always put Draco first and will forever be more loyal to him than anyone else- including the Dark Lord.

My eyes glaze over the classroom disinterestedly and I see the typical brave Gryffindors who dare to sit in the front of the room, tempting my dear Professor Snape to take points merely because they are breathing in his classroom.

Absolute morons. Why antagonize the overly antagonistic? They never did have any logic.

My eyes shift to Pansy Parkinson and her favorite lackeys Lucille Moon and Millicent Bulstrode the three of whom are all making eyes at my dearest cousin Dray. Every now and then (just about every 2 seconds) Pansy catches one of the two drooling and shudders in disgust.

That girl never had the best taste in friends. One of the many reasons I would never be caught talking to he in public. In private, on the other hand, I have found that she knows some rather good ironing charms and hair curling incantations.

Even seemingly useless people have their abilities. That's what I've learned from her.

And finally I see Herbert Avery sitting somewhat near Julius Nott.

Julius stares at me for a moment, while still giving off the impression that he not looking at me but through me, and inclines his head very slightly.

I am surprised, Julius is never this friendly.

I smirk at him and make my way over to the open seat in between the two Slytherin boys. On my way to the seat Ronald Weasel glares at me with a passion I had been pretty sure he was saving for the Mudblood all of these years.

The moron probably doesn't even know my name and yet he hates me with a furious and disgusted kind of ardor. I work to suppress a smile.

The crest on my robes is an instant Gryffindor repellent and I absolutely love it.

 

Scene 2:

He slams his bag down angrily on the table his two bookends glare at me angrily with what I can easily recognize as slightly restrained hatred in their eyes.

Whew look at those glares! Did I ever steal the last chew toy from the lion's den! What's a Slytherin to do?

They think they are bad, but when I turn the full strength of my glare on the two they both divert their eyes quickly and I am able to look back down at my Potion's book.

I can hear them whispering like little mice in the corner of a room to their leader who seems to dismiss them with some typical reassurances. The bushy haired little brat kissed his cheek and the gangling carrot stick ruffles the boy's already hideously out of order hair.

Ah yes these are true friends. Transmitting their saliva to each other's faces and ruining good hair days.

Now I truly understand the Gryffindor bond of a lifetime.

I snort to myself and note that the Price of all that is Good and Righteous is sitting down. His hands land somewhat near my book as he pulls out a chair with his foot and slowly sits down.

I am not looking at him. I am still reading. 

Silence takes the library within her clutches and holds tight. I note systematically that there are a few very quiet second year Ravenclaws in the corner and that Madam Pince is not at her desk.

I also note that the Price of Gryffindor sitting across from me is staring at me. I continue to read- let the bastard study Potions on his own. I refuse to debase myself my talking to him.

I'd like to think I'm above that.

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Author (C. Night) Notes : Did you like it, hate it? Let me know. And yes this is indeed the same Blaise Zabini who was twirling around in the rain at the end of GooDT. Like to find out exactly how she underwent that drastic change in character? Vote for Diary of a Tainted Aristocrat.

Until the next time

I make my presence known

in fanfiction land

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Thanks for reading!