Chapter 61
"Mister Potter, when we said we'd like to stay in touch, I have to admit this is really not what I meant," Madame Pomfrey spoke, bustling into the medbay.
Harry looked to the medi-witch with surprise, then to his father who was standing in the doorway. Tony shrugged without removing his hands from his pockets.
"Our doctor is still down, and we needed someone who knew what they were dealing with," he replied to Harry's silent question.
"Your doctor can hear you, and insists that he is completely fine," Bruce declared from bed beside Harry.
"Hush," Madame Pomfrey eased him back with a gentle, but surprisingly forceful, touch. "You will be resting for the next few hours until we make sure that you are, as you put it, 'completely fine.'"
Harry couldn't help but let out a small giggle at the look on the doctor's face. He had been in Bruce's place many times before where he insisted that he was okay, but Pomfrey had kept him in the hospital wing anyway.
"Listen to the one with the actual medical training, Brucie," Tony teased.
"Okay first of all, that was uncalled for," Bruce began, holding up his hand. "And second of all, I think I've had just as much medical training patching up your sorry ass over the years."
Madame Pomfrey made a small noise, and the scientist turned to her with an apologetic look. Apparently she and Steve would get along just fine.
"Are you experiencing any lingering pain or discomfort?" Pomfrey asked to her favorite patient as she carefully lined up several bottles of various potions. Harry's eyes widened greedily at the instant relief- he never though he would miss the foul tasting liquids so much. But their ability to work instantaneously seemed to overshadow the poor taste. During his time in the muggle world, he had found that their medicine took too long to kick in and didn't have quite the same effectiveness.
"A bit. I can definitely tell that the tremors are going to be even stronger now, and I'm sore all over," Harry replied. Madame Pomfrey frowned at him. She desperately wanted to help Harry, but since the tremors were created as a result of dark magic, there wasn't much she could do.
Silently, she handed him a pain potion and watched as he eagerly downed it. From the doorway where Tony still stood, she saw him begin to say something, but he hesitantly stopped himself. It seemed as though he had gained enough of her trust to allow her to administer potions.
With a sigh, Harry relaxed into the bed as the pain potion began to work. The fire-y feelings in his body diminished, and his muscles relaxed from the clenched position they had been in.
"I'm prescribing you a few days of rest. You may perform some light activities, like walking about your home, but I don't want you doing anything strenuous for a minimum of two days," Madame Pomfrey announced. She turned and faced Bruce, eyeing him seriously.
"That goes for the both of you."
"But Madame Pomfrey-" Harry began, thinking of the bakery's opening. There were still things that needed to be moved, and a lot of baking to be done.
"Ah-ah," she held up a hand. "Two days. And if you're still feeling the side effects after that, then you need to continue to take it easy."
"Harry, we'll all help you with the bakery. Hell, we can move back the grand opening for all I care. Health trumps work, any day."
"If I promised to sit on a stool, can I do some baking?" Harry asked the medi-witch hopefully. He knew he was lying, and probably wouldn't do much sitting, but if it made her say yes, then he would try.
She pinched her lips together, hesitating for a moment before replying, "I suppose, as long as you know to stop when you're in pain or fatigued, that would be fine."
"Thank you Madame Pomfrey!" Harry exclaimed. A part of him wanted to throw his arms around the Healer and give her a tight hug, but the other part of him screamed at him to keep to himself. Human contact was simultaneously the thing he craved the most and feared the most at the moment.
"Now," the Healer cleared her throat as she tended to Bruce, "there are a few visitors in the hallway that would like to see you before they leave. Are you up for that right now?"
Harry swallowed the lump in his throat, already knowing who was there. He had thought that saying their goodbyes in the shipyard would give him a chance to think about what he would say, and that he would get to write it in a letter before talking with them face-to-face.
But here they were- it was obvious that they had stayed with Madame Pomfrey in hopes to be able to talk with him. A slight feeling of annoyance grew within him as he thought about how they weren't following his wishes, but the feeling was replaced by guilt as he realized that they were carrying around feelings of remorse, and didn't want to feel it as heavily anymore.
"Harry, you don't have to-" Tony began, but Harry nodded his head.
"I want to talk to them. But... just Ron and Hermione first," he murmured. He knew that the conversation would be awkward, but it needed to be had. It needed to be had, so the feelings of residual anger and pain could have a change of fading.
"Do you mind... Could we maybe have the room to talk to ourselves?" Harry timidly questioned. He felt bad asking for everyone else to clear out, especially Bruce, but it seemed that everyone understood. Soon, the room was empty, and there was a small knock on the door.
Ron's face appeared first as he cautiously entered the room, as if afraid that Harry would throw something at him, or begin screaming. Behind him, Hermione tiptoed in.
"Hey," Ron gave his ex-best friend a tight lipped smile. "How're you feeling?"
"A bit tired. Been better, that's for sure."
Hermione smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Sorry for just showing up like this. I know it's not what we agreed upon, but..."
"It's fine," Harry brushed it off.
A beat of awkward silence passed, the Trio all avoiding eye contact. Finally, it was Harry that broke the silence.
"Look, I know that you guys were mad at me. Mad at me for all of the senseless deaths, and the people who came to fight my battle for me. But they didn't come to do it 'for' me. I never asked anyone to die for me. And everyone who... everyone who died..." Harry paused and took a deep breath. "I lost my entire family that night. Everyone I had ever loved, and everyone who had ever loved me either died, or turned on me and blocked me out."
Hermione brushed tears from her face, feeling the immense guilt from his words.
"I never told you guys this, but Cedric and I were dating. We loved each other, and his death nearly destroyed me. I was already walking on eggshells in my day to day life, just trying to cope without letting anyone know about the pain and anguish I was dealing with. But then at the Ministry that night..."
He looked at Ron, who was staring at the floor, before continuing. "Ron, nobody blamed themselves for the deaths of everyone that night than I did. It was my battle. My battle to fight. My battle to lose. My battle to die in. Yes, I died that night, but I was the only one that got to come back. But when I came back, and I saw all the damage that I had caused... I wished I hadn't gotten that chance to come back."
Harry felt his own tears now, but they weren't the product of fear or sadness, but rather anger that filled him at the memory.
"I was banished from the Wizarding World. Everyone treated me as lesser than dog shit on the bottom of their shoe, and they chased me away from the place that had become home to me. Everyone that loved me or had ever offered me a home turned me away. I was forced to go back and live with my relatives. I thank whatever God there is every day that I met Tony, because he's the one that saved my life when my uncle almost beat me to death. He's the one that took me in when I had nowhere else to go. He's the one that adopted me, despite all of the trouble and baggage that I brought with me. So even though I've desperately longed to rekindle our friendship and be welcomed back as a wizard, I realize now that I've become a better and a stronger person living here with my family than I ever was back in the Wizarding World."
Another beat of silence passed, and Harry wasn't sure what would happen next. He gripped the sheets on the bed in his fist, preparing for someone to yell at him. Preparing to brace himself, and act like he wasn't terrified. Preparing to pretend like the last time Ron had yelled at him, he hadn't punched him.
"Mate..." Ron began, and Harry bit back a scoff at the word. They weren't mates anymore. They weren't friends- that had ended the moment he and Hermione turned their backs on Harry.
"I... I don't even know what I can say that would excuse my actions. And I'm not looking to make any excuses for myself. I'm looking to apologize, but now... I don't even know what words I can say that would make an apology even halfway meaningful."
"I don't want an apology out of pity, if that's what you're going for," Harry spoke, voice surprisingly level. His heart was pounding, and there was a large lump in his throat, so the fact that his voice came out evenly was a shock even to himself.
"No, I just... Yes, I feel bad about everything that's happened. Everything we've said and done. You didn't deserve any of it. And I know Hermione, my mum and I were the ones most guilty of it, but we let the grief speak for us. And that wasn't right. So...." Ron trailed off.
"I think what Ron is trying to say," Hermione spoke up for the first time, slipping her hand in Ron's. Harry couldn't help but stare at their intertwined hands and wonder when they had made it official.
"...Is that nothing we say can ever make up for what we've already said and done. As much as we would love to be back in your life, and have you back in ours, we understand that there have been things in the past that may be irreparable. So the reason we're here is to apologize, and make sure that even if this is the last time we ever see one another, or speak to one another, we've ended the relationship on good terms."
Harry was faced with conflict. He desperately missed Ron and Hermione, and wanted more than anything to rekindle their friendship. But he had moved on over the past several months, and they had really hurt him. There was nothing saying that they wouldn't do that again.
But if it did happen, he had the support this time. He had the people would comfort him. He had friends here, that wouldn't cut him out.
All he had to do was make the decision on whether or not to forgive them.
Hermione and Ron stared at him with eager eyes, awaiting his next words.
"It's going to be really hard to forgive you," he spoke, watching as both Ron and Hermione's shoulder sagged in defeat.
"But I will try my hardest."
Two pairs of arms were suddenly thrown around him as he finished speaking, and despite the events that had occurred in the past 24 hours, and all the reasons he had to be afraid, it was the first time in a long time that he hadn't flinched.