Beneath the rolling thunder clouds, the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice stood, silent amongst the wind’s screams. The dark, cold sea churned, and the waves roared and crashed against the jagged cliff. The last time he was here, he retrieved Regulus’ locket with Dumbledore. This time, he was alone. He needed answers.
******
“EXPELLIARMUS!!!”
That was all it took to end his life-long nemesis. It was relieving in a way, he didn’t need great magical prowess, just a first-year spell to save the world.
The Boy-Who-Lived-Twice was shaken around, clapped on the back and the shoulder, cried on, hugged, kissed, and thanked. Then, it was just him, Hermione, and Ron.
“Let’s get some Butterbeer and a goodnight’s rest, yeah?” whispered Ron, as if to not disturb the dust settling on the battlefield.
“Yeah, that’d be… nice.”
******
Fred’s funeral passed quickly. Harry sat next to Ron crying on Hermione’s shoulder, who was comforting him.
However, he kept an eye on George, who was staring at the wet grass a few feet in front of him, far away from them. He tried to say something, anything, but his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and his throat dried up like he was about to cry.
Throughout the whole ceremony, Harry didn’t shed a tear, even though he really, really wanted to.
******
He slept with Teddy either next to him or on his chest. Hermione had expressed a few concerns about this arrangement, especially because of his usually violent reactions to nightmares, but the baby screamed and thrashed unless he was in his godfather’s arms, Hermione had relented.
Teddy’s steady breaths and the owls’ distant hooting were the only sounds breaking the silence of the Burrow’s attic. Harry laid flat on his back, absent-mindedly petting his godson’s small back.
The familiar prickling in his scar was gone. He missed it, strangely.
Sighing, he gently placed Teddy on his side and curled around him. He looked so much like Remus, his heart ached. A tear gathered, so he closed his eyes. The tear fell. He hugged Teddy closer.
“I will protect you, I promise,” he whispered into the barren room. Slowly, he drifted to sleep, prepared to meet Voldemort yet again.
******
“No, Harry! That’s too dangerous!”
“Molly, I know you think so but–”
“Enough,” interrupted Molly, practically slamming her cutlery on the Burrow’s long, wooden dining table, “You do not know how to take care of a child, and leaving with Teddy is one of the worst ideas you have ever had!”
“I am an adult, Molly,” he said firmly, “I can make my own decisions, and as Teddy’s godfather I make decisions for him as well.”
“Think of Remus and Tonks, Harry. Do you really think they would have wanted Teddy to grow up away from his family? From us?”
“Actually, I’m the only family he has left.”
Molly slowly sat back on the chair she had risen from. Around them, the Weasley family and Hermione stayed silent and focused on their food. It wasn’t the first time such an argument had erupted during dinner time. Mostly, it was about handling the Daily Prophet, which demanded Harry appear at press conferences and participate in social gatherings. Harry, of course, wanted to stay away from the worshiping cheers and applause, away from the hypocritical newspaper that wanted his good graces, and especially away from the reminder of all the deaths he had been responsible for, partially. Molly wanted him to socialize, to step out of his comfort zone, to heal.
“You’re just like Sirius,” muttered Molly, loud enough for the whole table to hear. “You never listen to good reason…”
Harry shot up from his seat, the wooden chair crashing onto the floor. Without looking back, he climbed the stairs to the attic and slammed the door, making the roof shake. He flopped onto his and Teddy’s bed, bringing his knees to his chest. Distantly, he heard Teddy crying.
The warmth of the Burrow had disappeared.
*******
“What do you think, Teddy?”
They were standing in front of a small cottage provided by Hagrid. He left Teddy to waddle in the grass and wildflowers and went to inspect the house.
On the facade, honeysuckle climbed on the cream wood boards. A chimney peaked out of the red-tiled roof. Harry called in Teddy and together they explored inside. It was quite bare, the only furniture was an imposing mahogany bookcase, and the kitchen needed appliances, but the wooden countertop and brass-handled cabinets were in great shape. There were three additional rooms and a bathroom with a limestone bathtub. Hagrid had hit the jackpot.
“This is our home now, ‘kay?” said Harry softly.
“Yay! Teddy and Harry’s home!” exclaimed Teddy in his little toddler voice. “No more ang’y.”
“Yeah,” replied Harry, even if Teddy had left outside to play, his hair matching the orange butterflies. “No more anger.”
******
After a year, they had completely settled in the little cottage. They had Portkeyed furniture from Grimmauld Place with help from the Gringotts goblins. Harry was particularly keen on keeping Sirius’ four-poster bed, which he had placed in his room.
Harry had wanted Teddy to have an education before Hogwarts, so he enrolled him in a magical preschool. He wished he could have enrolled him in a Muggle one, but Teddy being a Metamorphagus was too big of a giveaway.
The first day, Teddy wouldn’t let go of Harry’s jeans, but back home, he babbled about his teachers, the snacks he had, and the bug he had found in the playground with the other kids, his smile stretching across his face, and his hair a beautiful, vibrant pink.
That night, Harry had fallen asleep with a smile on his face.
With Teddy gone day after day, however, he was alone to confront his thoughts and his fears.
Sometimes, he explored the cottage’s surroundings. He had found a little creek, with crystal clear water. There, the air whispered and giggled. He couldn’t see them, but knowing there were water nymphs was comforting. He would lay in a patch of sun and listen to the light rippling of the water and the gentle swaying of tall grass.
Other times, he never left his bed. The room would be drenched in cool darkness and the only source of light was the outline of the door. The sheets were different, and years had passed, but he could still smell a whiff of Sirius’ scent every time he breathed like his soul had slithered and merged into the wood grain.
He thought a lot, about…everything.
There was a gaping void in his soul where the Horcrux had merged. Perhaps the feeling will never disappear. It was a part of him when you think about it. He had barely lived without its presence. Voldemort was his soulmate…in a way. Never would he wish Voldemort was alive, but it felt like there was an absence in his life. The lack of danger, of violence, of imminent death stressed him like there was something he should be doing, hunting Horcruxes, battling dragons, killing serpent-faced serial killers. He had always known he was…different. Everything explained itself when Hagrid looked him in the eye and said: “You’re a wizard, Harry.” As he grew up and faced challenges, near-death experiences, and an actual death at the hands of his all-time nemesis, it turned out he was different even in the wizarding world. No other wizard could survive the Killing Curse. Now that Voldemort was gone, who was he? Who is Harry without a part of his soul? Who is the Boy-Who-Lived without the one who killed him?
So, with his hair and clothes drenched by the rain, he stood under the thunder clouds at the seaside cave and screamed to the dark sky.
“WHAT DID I DO?” he asked. The waves crashed against the jagged cliff. “WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS?!” Thunder rumbled. “I NEVER ASKED FOR THIS! ALL I WANTED WAS TO LIVE! WHY ME?” The sea foam stung his chapped lips. “WHY WAS I THE ONE WITH THE HOLLY WAND? WHY WAS I THE ONLY ONE TO FACE QUIRREL?” The wind whistled past his ears. “I KILLED THE BASILISK, I FACED THE DEMENTORS, SO WHY WAS MY NAME THE ONE IN THE TRIWIZARD CUP?” Lightning struck and he fell to his knees, the mud and grass staining his jeans. “WHY WAS I THE ONE WHO WATCHED CEDRIC DIE AND FACED VOLDEMORT ALONE??” His voice cracked and he slammed his fists into the ground, gripping the grass with tears streaming down his face. “WHY DID SIRIUS LEAVE ME?? AND REMUS AND TONKS AND FRED AND EVERYONE!!! EVERYONE!!! WHY WAS I THE ONE WHO DIED??!!!”
Maybe there was a reason he was the Boy-Who-Lived. Maybe Dumbledore knew, but never told him.
In the end, it doesn’t matter.
******
“I’m really happy to have you, Harry,” whispered Teddy, who was tucked into bed after a long day of celebrating his 7th birthday with Harry.
“Me too, buddy,” replied Harry, smiling softly and ruffling the boy’s jet-black hair, that matched his own.
******
The downpour lessened, and sunbeams pierced the clouds, making the calm sea glitter and shimmer. A gentle breeze caressed his face, the exhaustion from yelling settling in.
******
“Here–” he handed Teddy a gingerbread cookie– “what do you think?”
He watched with anticipation as the 10-year-old chewed, making a scene of thinking of an answer.
“It’s gross!” he finally declared, reaching for another.
******
Harry gazed at the pale blue sky, making out shapes in the clouds. A stag, a doe, a wolf, and a dog. What an odd combination.
******
There was a gaping hole where the Horcrux had merged with his soul, but now it is filled with love.