The last chapter! Haha! And there're still 13 hours until Deathly Hallows is released, hehehe! I did it! (Sorry, Harry Potter high. Little giddy. You all understand.) You can still finish my story and then go and read the real thing:)
Thanks ever so to all the people who have stuck with it this long -- you've no idea how much I appreciate all your feedback and comments. Thanks tons to my beta, TMell, even though he only was around for about the first half of this -- he helped solidify the story line into the goodness you've seen here. Thanks to Heidi, who has faithfully reviewed and sent advice, and thanks to Maggie, who pushed and pushed and pushed and without whom, this might never have been finished.
Oh, and yes, I know the last word of the book is no longer 'scar,' but . . . I couldn't resist. :)
And now, my last pre-DH DISCLAIMER (I shall try to be witty):
Four years ago a writing girl created
A trilogy that grew out of control
And finally, on final fight fixated
To tie loose ends and make the story whole.
And now I say, though by me it was written,
It is not mine, nor ever has it been.
Promises Kept
Chapter Thirteen - To Heal and Move On
After twenty-four hours of bed rest and around the clock surveillance, Harry's patience was wearing thin. He had taken to pestering and badgering Healer Bromton so much whenever the man came into the room that he finally gave up and admitted that he could see no signs of negative after effects of Harry's experience, apart from stiffness and weakness. It took a few more hours of wheedling and cajoling to get the Healer to sign him out altogether, with only the promise in exchange that he wouldn't wander alone, he would come back immediately at any sign of trouble, and that he would use a cane for support. The last Harry agreed to most reluctantly.
After Apparating with Ginny to the site of the battle where the last leg of clean-up was still going on, he was trying to convince her to allow him to ditch the cane, but Ginny was having none of it.
"I heard Healer Bromton's orders as clearly as you did, Harry," she told him firmly, walking with him toward a familiar figure.
"I know, but it makes me feel like an old man," Harry whined playfully. "I don't need to use it, and how's Healer Bromton going to know?" Ginny fixed him with a glare.
"Harry, are you a Healer?" she asked.
"No," he said.
"And can you take ten steps on your own right now without falling down?"
"No," he admitted grudgingly.
"Then shut up and use the cane," she said, and that was that.
"It makes you look dignified," Remus called, coming to meet them. Harry grimaced.
"I'm eighteen; I'm not supposed to look dignified," he complained. "I'm supposed to look vital and healthy and vigorous."
"And when you are vital and healthy and vigorous, you will look so," Ginny said. "Until then, you're using the cane. And if I hear or see otherwise, it won't be Healer Bromton you have to worry about." She smiled at him sweetly. He sighed.
"I am properly chastised and frightened into compliance," he grumbled.
"Good," she said, standing on tiptoe to kiss him. "I'm heading back to St. Mungo's. Remus, make sure he uses that." Remus laughed while Harry rolled his eyes.
"Will do, Ginny." She Disapparated, and Remus said to Harry, "How are you, really?"
"Stiff, shaky, and being mothered from all directions," he said with good humor.
"Yes, well, dead tissue takes time and rest –"
"In order to regenerate, yes I know," Harry broke in. "I swear Healer Bromton spelled everyone who might run into me to repeat that phrase at least twice in my presence." Remus smiled.
They began to walk, Harry leaned heavily on the carved wooden walking stick that the Healer had provided for him. All over the field, Harry could see the signs of the battle that would not soon fade from the landscape. "All this is being covered from the Muggles?" he asked. Remus nodded.
"Yes, and any who saw the battle last night have had their memories modified. There are Muggle Repelling Charms around the perimeter now, and once those are lifted, there will be glamour work to hide the spell marks from their view. The Ministry wants to erect a monument here, did you hear?"
Harry nodded; he'd heard rumors to that effect from Will Greer. "Yes, I heard," he said with a sigh. "I don't suppose we can use our combined pull to convince them to add the Death Eaters' names to it?"
Remus shook his head. "Your speech yesterday has planted the seeds, Harry, but you can't expect fruit this soon. Push too hard and too fast at the beginning of the process and it will fall apart before your eyes. Time and distance and the imperfection of memory will add their names to the stone eventually. Until then, we must be satisfied with the small changes that are already being made."
Harry nodded and the two continued their slow walk around the forest edge. Harry took in the sight of the workers still clearing rubble and debris. It was symbolic, this process, which was half of the reason Harry wanted to help with it. Only by picking up what was left of the past could they move on and heal.
"And you?" he asked, after a time. "Work everything out with Tonks?" he asked innocently, with a sly glance at Remus, who tried to look severe and dignified at the same time and ended up accomplishing neither. He cleared his throat.
"Yes," he said simply. "And I don't believe I need to relay the story to you; I imagine you've heard it from several sources by now," he almost growled. Harry grinned.
"True enough," he said. "Honestly, Remus, if you were going for discreet, you shouldn't made your, from all accounts, rather passionate display of affection in quite so public a place." Remus colored and almost managed to look offended, but a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth.
"I had to make Sirius proud, didn't I?" he asked, amused.
"Oh, I imagine you did that fairly well," Harry said with a laugh.
The story of Remus and Tonks had spread far and wide since the previous afternoon, and had gotten back to Harry very quickly indeed: how Remus had Apparated from the Ministry directly to the battlefield; how he had sought out Tonks first thing; how Tonks had been in the middle of a conversation with Kingsley; how Remus had asked to interrupt for ten seconds or so before taking Tonks in his arms, dipping her back, and giving her a long and passionate kiss in the middle of a battlefield while all crews looked on. Though most accounts said that he had then straightened, thanked Kingsley, and merely turned and walked away without another word until Tonks had gotten over the shock and run after him, Harry (whose source was none other than Kingsley Shacklebolt himself) knew that Remus had said, at some point before walking away, something cryptic about being ready, able, and more than willing to make promises now.
Harry had to hand it to him; he may take forever to act, but when he did, he did a thing right. "But, in all seriousness, you have worked everything out satisfactorily with her?"
Remus smiled softly. "Yes," he said sincerely. "Yes, we have." He peered up at the sky. "Honestly, I don't know why I waited so long to let myself love her," he said softly.
"Nor do any of the rest of us, but it's all right. You two have nothing on Ron and Hermione." Remus laughed.
"No, I don't suppose we do!" he admitted. "But let's talk about you, Harry. Have you, Ron, and Hermione decided what you're going to do next?"
"McGonagall stopped by St. Mungo's yesterday to talk to each of us in turn. We're categorized as being on temporary education hiatus right now, so it won't be any trouble to go back for our last year in September. The real trouble comes with the fact that all three of us are now moving in different career directions than we planned out two years ago."
"Really?" Remus asked, curious. "So, you three aren't going to head right off into the Ministry's Auror program?" Harry smiled and shook his head.
"No. "
"Ministry's not going to like that," Remus commented, making Harry laugh.
"No, they're not. They already showed up at the hospital yesterday, to recruit Hermione and Ron. Stayed away from me, but I think that's because they've just assumed I'm already there. They're in for an unpleasant surprise."
"Ron and Hermione definitely against it, then?" Remus asked.
"I don't think Ron and Hermione ever really wanted it," Harry said with a shrug. "I think Ron liked the idea, but . . . it was never what they wanted to be doing. They did it mainly for me." They walked on in silence for a while longer. Then Harry said, "You know McGonagall has been serving as Headmistress in addition to teaching Transfiguration?"
Remus nodded with a grimace. "I heard a rumor to that effect. Why hasn't she hired a new transfiguration professor?"
"When I asked her, she told me she was waiting for her chosen replacement to finish the training."
"Who's her –" Harry gave the older man a look. "Hermione," Remus said. "Shouldn't have asked."
"McGonagall said Hermione was the most gifted Transfiguration student she ever taught, second only to my dad. She wanted him to replace her, but he was set on being an Auror, and he didn't want to wait twenty years for the position to open."
"Hermione's going to teach, then?" Remus asked. Harry nodded.
"She's really cut out for it. I think it was the direction she was always going to in. You know Hermione; she could do absolutely anything she chose to do, but educating others has always been her passion."
"I can see her as Headmistress in twenty years," Remus observed. "She's got the right temperament and pull for it." Harry squinted up at the sky. Remus glanced at him, somewhat startled by the gesture. "You don't agree?" he asked.
"No, I do, and I think she'll get offered it at some point. I just don't think she'll accept."
"Really?" Remus asked, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Why not?"
"You have to give so much to that job. Few Hogwarts teachers are married, and there's a reason for it. But I know Hermione won't be willing to accept the position unless she can have both. It is Hermione, so, in forty years, with children grown . . . who knows? She may change her mind." Harry gave a small smile. "But right now, Ron's the most important thing to her."
"How's he feel about all this?" Remus wanted to know.
"Works out well, actually," Harry said with a little laugh. "Surprised everyone with his intentions, including himself, I think. He said he wants to teach Defense. Said that everything we've done this past year really showed him how far behind our schooling was. Of course, he also said he's gonna wait and watch what happens to the 'bloke' in the job now, since he has no desire to 'kick it' after a year."
Remus laughed. "We didn't all kick it," he said. "Some of us just resigned."
"Or had their memories erased or were attacked and controlled by Death Eaters or were kidnaped by centaurs," Harry said wryly. "He'd like to make sure the curse is really gone before vying for the position.
"Wise of Ron," Remus said, still laughing. "Which leaves us with you. I take it that you, also, no longer have your heart set on becoming an Auror."
Harry shook his head and stopped walking, looking past Remus into the heart of the forest. "I don't want to be that person," Harry said softly. "I don't want to be the go-to Dark Wizard fighter. I don't want what I had to do at eighteen define what I do for the rest of my life. And the truth of it is, this past year, I have had enough of this kind of work. I want to do something worthwhile, something that isn't about destruction and pain and death. I want to give life, not take it away. I want to help people by doing just that. Helping them."
"So what are you looking at?" Remus asked him.
"The past day and a half I have walked the halls of the hospital and I have spoken to the wounded and the families and . . . I have found the people who have truly done the most in this battle. The Healers. They have mended bones and stitched flesh back together and stopped curses. They're tireless. They don't stop, they're always making sure everything is all right." Harry shook his head. "I always thought Healing was a simple thing. A potion here and a simple incantation there . . . it's not. I know it's not. I spoke to George's Healer for an hour and a half this morning. The regimen they're putting him on for the next few months . . . Healer Knowles flat out admitted to me that they don't have any magic to help him walk yet. But he outlined all these experiments, potions, spellwork . . . I want to be a part of it. I want to help people like him. I want to find a way to Heal people, to make their lives better."
"A worthy ambition," Remus said. "I take it, though, that you haven't told the Aurors?"
"I've told you, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, McGonagall, and George. I'll tell the people who need to be told. Everyone else can stuff it."
Remus laughed. "You'll go far, Harry," he said seriously, resting a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Whatever you end up doing. I'm proud of you. You've come a long way from the thirteen-year-old who used to share tea with me in my office." Harry smiled at the memory. Looking up, he saw the tell-tale red that signaled an a Weasley.
"Ah!" he said, faking cheeriness. "My nursemaid approaches." Remus laughed.
"Indeed she does. You headed back to the hospital, then?"
"No," Harry said, after a brief hesitation. "To Surrey. We're going to meet my aunt." At Remus' raised eyebrows, he said, somewhat sheepishly, "I did tell her I'd try to keep her informed of what was going on. And . . . she's my last real family. I'd like Ginny to meet her. And I have a note to her from Mum."
How the little roll of parchment had survived from the place where he'd been to the land of the living, Harry didn't know. He also didn't really want to question it. When he'd gotten a chance to unroll it, he'd seen a few simple sentences in his mother's by-now familiar handwriting.
For all the difference in hair color, you and I shared a temper, Tunia. I should have known better than to inflame it. Let us each claim half the fault and be done with it. Harry is your family now and you are his. Love him without feeling guilty, dear sister, as I love you.
"You still haven't convinced me that this isn't going to be extremely awkward," Ginny muttered to him as she led him to the Disapparition Point.
"That's because it is going to be extremely awkward," he said cheerfully. "For the first few minutes or so, but then I trust that you will both get over it and become good friends."
"You trust in that, do you?" she asked, clearly not believing him.
"I do," he said. She sighed.
"Well, I'll do it because I love you, but I'm not making any promises," she warned.
"I'm not asking you to, love," he said. "I'm also trusting that my aunt will speak for herself." He flashed her a smile. She grimaced.
"We might as well get this over with," she muttered before taking his arm.
Petunia Dursley smiled to herself, humming a little as she wiped down the counters in her kitchen. Once the surface was sparkling, she covered it with wax paper just as the timer on her oven went off. She took the latest batch of cookies out and spread them on the wax paper. Looking around the kitchen, she had to laugh. Every surface was covered with row upon row of chocolate chip cookies. She hadn't done this much baking in years, not since Dudley had been young.
Depositing the still-hot cookie tray in the sink to cool, she took off the oven mitt and wiped her hands on her apron. Her nephew would be here any moment . . .
Sure enough, a few minutes later, the doorbell rang. Smiling, she set off down the front hall to open the door.
Two red-topped blurs came flying through, one shrieking at the top of her lungs. "DYLAN!!!! No FAIR!! It's MY turn to be the knight!! You got to LAST TIME!!!" Petunia dodged expertly as the boy peeked out from around the corner, tongue out and the girl lunged for him.
"First come, first serve, and slowpoke sisters LOSE!" he taunted, eliciting another shriek.
Laughing at the six-year-olds now racing around her living room, Petunia looked back to the front door only to have another child enter. This one was a girl a few years older with long, dark hair and a solemn expression. Looking up at Petunia, she said, with a long-suffering sigh, "Children." Petunia feigned solemnity and nodded. "Donna, Dylan, stop it right now!" the girl said severely. "You know better than that!"
The twins stopped tussling then, but not because of anything the girl was saying, but because they had both smelled –
"Cookies!" they said at the same time and raced off toward the kitchen.
"Donna! Dylan!" came a man's commanding voice from outside. "You set one foot in that kitchen before invited to do so, and you won't like what happens to you!" he warned.
The twins halted just behind the doorframe, then exchanged mischievous looks.
"One," the boy mouthed.
"Two," the girl mouthed in return.
"Three!" they both yelled and leapt over the threshold.
Just then a tall man entered the front door, looking sternly at the pair. "What did I just say?" he asked.
"You said one foot!" Dylan shouted gleefully.
"And we put in two!" Donna finished with a giggle. The man gave a long suffering sigh of his own and tried not to smile. Turning back to the open door, he pointed a finger and said, "They're yours!"
A rich, deep laugh answered him, and a red-haired woman entered, carrying a bundle of baby. "And why would you say that, Mr. Potter?" she asked.
"Because mischievous twins come from your side of the family," he said with a half-smile.
"Yes, but your father was quite a trouble maker, from all accounts, so I don't think you can pass them off quite so easily." Laughing, Harry Potter put an arm around his wife and led her through the hall to his aunt.
"Ginny, dear!" Petunia greeted her with a gentle embrace and a kiss on the cheek, which was returned.
"Always good to see you, Petunia."
"Auntie Petunia, Auntie Petunia!" the twins said, clamoring around her legs. "Can we have some cookies. Pleeeeeeease?"
With a laugh, Petunia said, "Oh, of course, you two!" And she led them into the kitchen and handed them two cookies each, and another two to their older sister as well.
"Now, up to the attic," the older girl whispered, pushing them toward the stairs.
"Aren't you coming?" they asked her.
"In a minute!" she said through clenched teeth. And so the two flew up the stairs, their footsteps and happy cries echoing down the hallway. "Auntie Petunia, you have to see my new brother!" she said enthusiastically.
"You're right, Rose, I do!" Petunia agreed. "Introduce me, would you?" And so Rose led her aunt over to her mother.
"This is PJ," she said proudly.
"PJ?" Petunia repeated, with an inquiring look to Harry, who rolled his eyes.
"Peter James, but Rose is insisting on calling him PJ." Rose planted her hands on her hip and looked disprovingly up at her father.
"You can't call a little baby Peter James! It's too big of a name!" she said primly.
"So PJ he is, and PJ he'll probably remain," Ginny said with a smile. "Looks like his da," she said, wrinkling her nose down at the bright-eyed baby, who smiled a toothless smile up at her.
"That he does," Petunia agreed, taking him as Ginny offered him and lifting him up in the air. The baby looked down at her curiously with hazel eyes. "But he has his mother's eyes," she said to Harry, who rolled his own.
"And I imagine he'll get as tired of hearing that as I did," he said.
"Yes, most likely. Well, come on into the living room and sit down! You must have had quite the long journey!"
"It's not a bad drive," Harry said.
"From London to Surrey?" she asked, pretending to be shocked. "So you say." Laughing, Harry conceded her point. She led them all into the living room, young Rose following her parents. "So fill me in!" she insisted once they were all seated. "Last owl I had from you was when this one was born, a full three weeks early, I might add!"
Ginny groaned. "Oh, yes, and right in the middle of Rosalie's first introduction; I've never been so embarrassed in my life!" Harry chuckled.
"She was very understanding, love."
"Now, you'll have to remind me who Rosalie is," Petunia said, bouncing PJ on her knee.
"Charlie's fiancé," Ginny said. "Oh, and you have to come round the Burrow this summer for the wedding!" she insisted, laying a hand over Petunia's.
"Well, of course! I wouldn't miss the last Weasley's wedding! That brother of yours finally got his act togther, did he?"
"You sound like Mum," Ginny said. "Yes, yes, he's getting married at last, and that's everyone in the family. It was an ordeal, getting a date when everyone could be there!"
"Mummy?" Rose broke in. "Is Cousin Dominic going to be there?" she asked.
"Yes, dear. We got word last week Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur will be coming." Rose 'hmphed' and crossed her arms, slumping back in her chair. "Why, Rose, whatever is the matter? Don't you want to see Lila and Marietta?"
"Yes, I want to see them," she said, sounding very put upon indeed, "but I don't want to see Dominic! He's starting at Hogwarts this year, and he'll be absolutely impossible!" Harry and Ginny exchanged a smile.
"Well, he did just turn eleven, Rose."
"I know, but I want to start at Hogwarts, too!" she insisted.
"You have a few more years to wait, I'm afraid," Harry told his daughter. "You're only eight, and you do have to be eleven first. Besides, I thought you liked your lessons with Uncle Remus and all your cousins!"
"I do," Rose said. "But they aren't the same as lessons at Hogwarts!"
"No, they aren't," Ginny agreed. "But you can get together with Emma Lupin and all your cousins and complain all through the wedding, okay?" she asked, tickling her daughter until she coaxed a giggle out of the eight-year-old.
Just then, a loud crash echoed through the house, rattling the walls. Ginny raised her eyes to the ceiling, and said, "Oh, dear," she said with a sigh. "Rose, honey, would you mind heading up to the attic and making sure your brother and sister aren't getting into too much trouble?"
"Of course, Mummy," she said, transforming into the model of dignity, and walked from the room. Her parents watched her go with equally amused expressions.
"And where did she come from, with that cool and calm demeanor?" Petunia asked with a laugh.
"I have no idea," Ginny admitted.
"I do," said Harry wryly. "That's from Aunt Hermione," he said. They all smiled.
"Now, you'll have to run through the count for me," Petunia said to her nephew and his wife. "If I'm coming this summer, I'll need to keep everyone straight. Bill and Fleur have . . . ?"
"Six," Ginny said.
"And Fred and Angelina?"
". . . two?" Harry said, looking at his wife, who nodded.
"But Angelina is pregnant again, they announced last month."
"Right."
"Okay," Petunia said. "George and Ellie have just the one, though," Harry and Ginny nodded. "And Ron and Hermione have . . . three, right?"
"Right. And that's really all you need to know," Ginny said with a smile. Petunia rolled her eyes, smiling.
"Says you. I'll be studying pictures and names from now until then!" Harry and Ginny laughed. "So, how did Rosalie and Charlie meet?"
"Rosalie is a Muggle archeologist," Ginny said, smiling at Petunia's raised eyebrows. "Charlie met her in Romania; her team discovered a dragon skeleton, and Charlie's team had to send someone to modify the skeleton and convince the Muggles it was no such thing."
"And that person was Charlie," Petunia said, adding to the story. Ginny nodded.
"Exactly. And things . . . progressed from there!" she finished.
"Well, you may tell them that I will be there, and if your mother needs any help, she's to let me know so I can come early! No, I insist!" she said, over Ginny's token protests. "Now tell me what you've been up to at Mungo's. Are you any closer to cracking your puzzle, Harry?"
Harry grimaced and ran a hand through his hair. "No," he said with a sigh.
"You're closer, Harry," Ginny said, laying a hand over her husband's. "You're getting closer all the time."
"But not close enough!" he insisted. "It's been ten years; you'd think we'd have made more progress than this!"
"George doesn't mind, Harry. He knows you're doing all you can, and look at everyone you have helped! Why, you're the most demanded Healer in the business!" Harry gave his wife a wry smile.
"So they tell me," he said.
"Your modesty is to your credit," she said to him, kissing the tip of his nose. He smiled in good humor. "Besides, George has all he can concentrate on now, taking over for Binns. He's really starting to make an impact on that subject for his students. He can't take the time out to submit to strenuous Healing sessions that are all you have to offer him right now."
"If I could just get him for the summer, there's that new series of spell work being developed in Sweden that they're willing to share, the –"
"I thought we'd both agreed to keep the work at the hospital, dear," Ginny admonished gently. Harry smiled.
"I am properly chastised," he said, inclining his head to her, and turning back to his aunt.
"This year marks George's . . . third teaching?" she asked. "Just how many family members do you have up at that school?"
"Ron's teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts for the sixth year. Hermione's taken over Transfiguration for the sixth year, and then there's George, and Ellie is serving as the school's nurse now, so . . . four!" Ginny said brightly.
"Just when McGonagall thought she'd gotten rid of you," Harry commented wryly.
"A fact Fred likes to point out to her as often as possible," Ginny said with a laugh.
"And the world?" Petunia asked softly. "How is it?"
"We're coming up on the ten-year anniversary, and I know the Ministry's planning something huge to commemorate the occasion. And, I have it from a reliable source that he's planning on announcing his retirement then, too."
From the look on his face, his 'reliable source' was likely her sister, Petunia mused. Glancing at the framed note on the mantle, Petunia shook her head slightly. She'd stopped questioning how the continuing relationship was possible long ago.
"Any news of who they're getting to replace him?" she asked.
"Word on the street is that they've approached Remus," Ginny said happily. "And that they really want him."
"But McGonagall's got her eye on him to take over at Hogwarts as Headmaster when she retires," Harry added, then smirked. "He's nearly as popular as I am."
"And there's no telling which he'll choose," Ginny said. "He could do a lot of good as Minister, but he may be too modest to accept it. I see him more as Headmaster; he's a lot like Dumbledore." Harry nodded.
"Of course, knowing Remus, he's just as likely to decline everything and stay at home with his kids," Harry chuckled.
"But the fact that he's being courted like this is the most encouraging thing I've seen in a long time. It means people have moved past the fact that he's a werewolf, and are more than willing, eager even, to see him hold a prominent spot in society." Harry nodded again.
"It is encouraging. Ten years after the battle? I'm pleased with the changes I've seen. Even just in Hogwarts. There are Muggleborns in Slytherin and the children of one-time Dark supporters in Gryffindor. And there are friends all across the board, with actual Common Rooms through the castle for cross-house friends to meet. A person's house has stopped being the ultimate definition of who they are. And that means we're raising a more tolerant and peaceful generation."
Harry smiled down at his sleeping infant son, snuggled in his great aunt's arms. "Which is good news for everyone," he whispered, squeezing his wife's hand. "We're moving on."
Harry Potter and his family stayed for a long visit that wintery spring day. When they had finished eating supper and the sun had begun to set, Petunia hurried them all out her door, saying they had a long drive ahead of them and they should start it sooner rather than later.
"We'd be more than happy to help you with the dishes," both Harry and Ginny started to say, but Petunia shushed them.
"Of course not!" she said, waving a hand at them. "Whip out your wands and clear everything away and leave me nothing at all to do? Now, go! On with you!" And it was hugs all around and promises to arrange a week to get away for the wedding, and then the six of them were out the door and the house was back to its quiet self.
With a smile, Petunia began tidying up, talking, as she always did at this time, to her sister's picture on the mantle.
"Oh, Lily," she sighed. "I know I say this every time he comes to visit, but that son of yours gets more handsome every week. And your grandchildren are the most precious kids in the world." Lily's picture smiled down at Petunia, who glanced up at it before folding an afghan and continuing. "The most sought after Healer in St. Mungo's, you know. They've offered him several managerial positions, but he turns them all down. His wife's the same way with her psych patients. They both want to be doing the real work of the business, not telling others what to do.
"Oh, and little Rose!" Petunia said, sitting on the sofa with the folded blanket under her arm. "I said I didn't know where she got that demeanor from, but I do. She's just like mother. Watching her handle the twins today . . ." Petunia laughed. "Whenever you and I got in trouble, Mother would speak to us in just that tone of voice, you remember? She's so self-possessed, even at only eight." She sighed happily and stood to fold the afghan over the back of the sofa. Then she went into the kitchen and started the dishes, talking all the while.
"And the little one! Peter James, PJ. Now he looks just like his grandfather! Or rather, I imagine he does; he looks just like Harry did, but with your husband's eyes instead of yours, and since everyone says Harry looks just like James, I think it's fair to say the looks have come full circle." She stood for a while, happily scrubbing the dishes, humming to herself again.
After a few moments, she stopped, her thoughts turning contemplative. She turned off the water and walked back into the sitting room, to address Lily's portrait directly. "You know, it amazes me," she said softly. "Ginny's older brother is getting married this summer, and they've invited me. Every time I have gone to Molly Weasley's home, I have been welcomed with open arms. They've made me part of their family. Me! A Muggle, and Harry's Horrible Aunt to boot!" She shook her head. "But that's all forgiven now. Was forgiven long ago. They're really the most forgiving sort of people I've ever met. I don't know many wizards outside the Weasleys, true enough, but . . . well, I know what Harry's been trying to do there, and if the Weasleys are any judge at all, he's succeeded admirably!
"And, if the news is true, that Remus Lupin, a werewolf, has been offered the top job in their government, well! I think it's safe to say that all prejudices have been nearly forgotten! And that's a miracle in and of itself, really." She looked lovingly at the picture of herself and Lily from that Halloween, many years ago.
"Harry's really taught these people what it means to forgive. And in ten short years? I'd not have thought it possible! But then," she smiled back at Lily, "he is your son. So I suppose I should have known."
She kissed the tips of her fingers and pressed them to Lily's forehead. Then she gave a smile and walked back to the kitchen, passing numerous pictures of Harry and his family and old photographs of the Evans', and one, her favorite, a picture of the day Harry had come home from the war and brought both his future wife and a small scroll of parchment.
Ten years ago, this family was broken, she thought. And somehow, Harry healed it, and if he'd done nothing else, that would have been more than enough. That had been his first real Healing, now that she thought of it.
She gave a little laugh as she thought more and more of the idea. "And the most impressive thing about it," she whispered, "He didn't even leave a scar."
Fin
Thanks so much for sticking through to the end! Review and enjoy Deathly Hallows!
Realmer