Chapter Text
But we cannot simply sit and stare at our wounds forever.
- Haruki Murakami
The Forest around her is calm. Eerily so.
There'd been an awful storm when she was eight years old- one so bad that even with their cruelty, the Dursleys had allowed her to sit in the downstairs bathroom when the worst of it broke overhead. They were in the upstairs together, Dudley bundled up in the tub with his favorite toys while Petunia tried desperately to keep him entertained without the telly on. She'd been warned not to leave the room, not because it would be unsafe, but because they didn't trust her not to break anything...or even not to touch things which would then be tainted by her 'freakishness'.
Thunder cracked nearby, shaking the house so badly Harri could hear Petunia shriek above her, but Harriet herself only flinched slightly, her arms wrapped tightly around her stomach, which clenched painfully around its own emptiness. They hadn't allowed her to turn the light on, so she sat there in cold darkness, simply listening to the chaos of the roaring wind.
But after what felt like hours, nothing. There was a sudden silence.
It was jarring after all the noise; it left her feeling edgy- ready to crawl out of her own skin.
Harriet felt the same way now.
The sounds of the battle had long disappeared, the dead and dying silenced by the doors of the Great Hall that she'd left behind her.
She can taste the fresh air on her tongue, breathing deep in the desperate hope that it will clear away the heaviness within her. Lift it up and out of her, unburden her of it.
The air cannot clear it away, though. She knows this; she has learned that lesson over and over. It's a stupid, useless hope that anything could.
But Harriet was nothing if not a being made of stupid, useless hope.
It'd gotten her this far.
However, this marked the end of her life's journey. In this forsaken forest, clad in an old jumper of Ron's over her own hand-me-downs, which were ragged and worn out after the years. They did not keep her warm.
As if the girl herself is beside her, she hears a long-ago comment from Hermione echoing in her head. Some philosophy book or something that had caught her fancy, Harri hadn't really paid attention. She sort of regrets it now; she should've cherished and lived in the small moments where her friend went on about the things she enjoyed.
'This is how the world ends, not with a bang, but with a whimper.'
No matter how hard she racks her brain, Harriet can't remember why Hermione had singled it out as important enough to repeat to her, but it lingers all the same.
This was no grand battle for her; it would be a lonely, silent end to a less-than-kind, lonely little life.
It was terribly unfair, if anyone asked her.
Though there wasn't really anyone around to do so. And it's not as if anyone had ever particularly cared whether what they were asking of her was fair or not.
Fate was not fair. Pretending differently was like trying to speak to God.
And God had never answered her prayers before, back when she used to try. Back when magic was the stuff of fairytales, and her Aunt Petunia dragged her perfect family off to church every Sunday. A family that had never included Harriet, who was beyond saving, according to her aunt.
Who would listen to a little girl trapped within a dark cupboard beneath the stairs? A freak. A monster. Nothing worth hearing, worth listening to.
Nothing that was worth trying to save.
Like a screaming child crying herself hoarse, Harriet understood there was no one coming to save her. They never had before, and life had not changed that.
And she could no longer save herself. It had all been luck up till that point anyway. Sheer dumb luck had allowed Harriet Potter to slip by with her life intact all those times she'd brushed against death.
That luck had run out now.
It was not yet time for the sun to rise; she'd left the castle barely twenty minutes before, and even without knowing the time, she knew it was only just now creeping towards the dawn.
The forest was bathed in moonlight. Just enough cut through the foliage of trees above her head to light her way and prevent her from stumbling too often on roots and rocks, focusing on her steps helped distract from the reality of what she was walking to.
If she tried hard enough, she could pretend she was eleven years old again, suffering detention alongside Ron and Hermione.
As if all she had to do was look to the side, and she'd see Ron's young, freckled face, not having grown into his nose nor his gangly limbs yet. Not yet the brilliant man she knew he was today; brave and loyal to a fault.
Hermione would be right beside him, made up of frizzy hair and intelligent brown eyes, buck teeth large in her smile since she would not fix them for another few years.
Sometimes, Harriet desperately missed those buck teeth.
A stupid thing to miss really, something 'Mione herself did not miss one bit, but they reminded her of how young they once were. How terribly important it had felt to Hermione to fix her teeth, so she'd no longer be made fun of. So, she'd feel prettier. But Harri had thought she was the prettiest girl in all the world either way.
Back when they were simply three lonely children who'd found kindred spirits within each other.
Ron, always left feeling unremarkable and unimportant in his siblings shadows, always left out of their games.
Hermione, an only child who found solace in books when the other children at school called her names and didn't want her to play with them.
And Harriet, and orphan whose cousin made sure that any other child who interacted with her would believe her as much a freak as he himself did.
Once there was a time that they were smiling and bright and full of dreams for a future they would carve out together.
A future that Harri would no longer get to share with her two best friends. Her family.
Grief was not a strong enough word. Not for the aching feeling within her. Not for the burning in her eyes that she tried to shut away to no avail.
Harri truly wanted to hate Dumbledore in this moment. It had taken her so long to drag herself off of the cold stone floors in his office after she'd collapsed onto them, drained and disoriented from the memories.
A pig for slaughter. That's what Snape had called her. Raised only so she could die here and now, the proper moment. How terribly fitting.
Hating him would give her nothing, change nothing. It would only make the ache of betrayal worse.
There was no turning away from this. Any of her hurt was unimportant. It always had been.
Before she could stop herself, Harriet took one last look at the castle behind her. It was far in the distance, dim lights looking like stars against the night sky.
Hogwarts wasn't her home though, not the way she'd thought of it all those years.
But the people within its walls, they were.
They were home in a way no place could ever be.
Ron, Hermione, the Weasleys, McGonagall, her fellow students and teachers, they'd been home. Even at the worst of times. Even when the students sneered, pointed, and laughed. Even when they hated her or called her crazy. She was here to die for them- because despite it all, she loved them fiercely.
Especially Ron and Hermione, two people who had burrowed themselves deep within Harri's bones to the point that she was sure some remnants of them would still be found lingering within her long after she died. Like Rons jacket hanging large on her shoulders and Hermione's bracelet tied on her wrist. They made her braver.
She hadn't said goodbye to them.
Regret is a heavy stone sitting in the bottom of her stomach- but she had known she never would've been able to walk away had she tried to say goodbye to them. She would've thrown herself at their feet and begged them to help her find another way so that she wouldn't have to be alone. To die alone and be without them.
Hermione would've tried. The witch would've torn apart the entire world to find another answer. Would've scoured libraries, tomes, old forgotten remnants of lives and people that may hold some kind of answer.
Ron would've been right behind her. But his focus would be Harri, making sure she never left his sight. He'd loved her so much he would've happily bloodied his hands in whatever way would keep her safe and alive.
And that's why she couldn't ask either of them to try.
It was too late.
The only consolation she had, was that they had each other. They wouldn't be alone. They'd lean on the other for support and slowly heal together.
And one day, maybe Ron would grow some bloody bullocks and propose to Hermione.
The thought made her smile even as her heart twisted within her chest.
A wedding she'd never see.
Harriet whipped back around, defiantly facing away from the castle. Almost as if she could physically pry herself from her own longing like a little girl angrily pulling away from loving arms because she was too upset to allow them to wrap around her.
Harri had never been that little girl held in loving arms anyway.
Not since.... well, since she was far too young to remember.
A lifetime ago. A childhood she'd never had. A taste of it with a godfather she'd barely gotten to know.
Taking another deep breath, the scratch of her jumper drags across her many bruises and cuts from the battle as her chest rises and falls.
That's when she remembers the weight in her pocket.
The close...
Hand trembling, Harriet reaches into her pocket, fingers grasping at cool metal. Dumbledore, his voice all his moments of obscure and unclear advice came to her mind.
She brings the Golden Snitch out and traces the engraving on it, the one she'd discovered only weeks before when she remembered how she'd caught the snitch in her mouth the first time.
"I open at the close." The words are a whisper, just for herself as she comes to a realization.
The closing of her life.
Emerald eyes lifted upwards, silently cursing Dumbledore and how secretive and confusing he had been and continued to be even after death.
Not even Death could keep the headmaster from his half-truths and secrets.
Lifting the snitch to her lips, she held her breath.
When she pulled it away, the shimmering wings slowly retracted, and the golden body opened in a way Harri hadn't know it could. She'd never seen any seams or latches.
Even now, magic still surprised her.
But it was what rested within that truly caught her attention.
The Resurrection Stone.
Even knowing that the tale of the three brothers had been real, that the deathly hollows truly existed, seeing the stone was a shock.
But if it truly did as it was said to, that meant...
Her throat felt tight as she held the stone in the palm of her hand, closing her slim fingers around it, strange that it felt warm- as if pulsing with life.
Harriet closed her eyes.
And when she opened them again, her knees felt weak at the sight before her.
Lily Potter looked so much younger than Harry had imagined.
Sure, she'd seen a few pictures, memories through Snapes eyes not even an hour before, but seeing her mother in front of her, frozen at the age of 21, barely four years older than Harry was now, it was like ice water down her spine.
Despite the tragedy of her young age, her mother was lovely. Her long red hair came a little past her shoulders and her eyes, Harry's eyes, were bright with joy and love. Adoration.
This was the woman who'd carried her, who'd birthed her, was the first to hold her. Who'd died pleading for her only daughter's life.
Harriet had never known what it was to truly have a mother, but she felt it would've been so wonderful if the warmth pouring from the mere shade of Lily Potter was anything to go on. A love so powerful it had destroyed Voldemort.
Beside her mother, was James Potter. The man who'd given her his hair and terrible eyesight. They wore matching round glasses.
Only now did Harri wonder where hers had even come from. She couldn't remember ever going to a doctor. She'd struggled constantly as a child with blurry vision until one day her Aunt Petunia had shoved the pair of spectacles into her hands and told her to put them on.
Was it too much to hope that the glasses on her face were actually her father's? That maybe along with the letter that had been with her on the Dursleys doorstep, a pair of glasses belonging to the man who'd helped to give her life had been laid as well. Why else would her aunt have them?
Whether the answer was yes or no, she pushed the glasses on her bridge a little closer. If only to stop the tears from falling at the unbridled pride she could see on her father's face.
James Potter still looked a bit boyish in his youth. Cheeks round and smile wide. There was a draw to him, to that light. It was like bathing in the sun.
On Lily's other side stood Remus Lupin, looking so much younger and happier than Harriet had ever seen him. There were less scars on his face, and he stood taller, back straight. No longer weighed down by the burden of old grief and regret. How had she never truly noticed that hunch to his shoulders, the dullness in his eyes?
Despite the distance he'd created between them over the years, his own guilt causing him to push her away, Harri couldn't help the little sob that the sight of him pulled from her.
His death was still so fresh. Having only happened a few hours before.
She'd been so numb after hearing Voldemort's voice in her head, the deal he'd offered her. It was like she'd tried closing herself off, focusing in on surviving because if she didn't, there'd be no ending to the orphaned children and mourning families.
Then seeing Ron and his family bent over Fred's body, over the man she had lo-, Harri found she couldn't stop herself from shutting down completely, making the walk up the the headmaster office, empty.
It was a skill she'd cultivated over her childhood. Years of swallowing her tears and choking down sobs within a tiny cupboard.
She used it all that day, that night, when her future, their future had fallen away beneath her feet, crumbled like the stone wall that had taken Fred from her.
But seeing Remus and Tonks lying side by side, hands still touching even in death, new parents who'd left behind an infant son, well, it had taken everything in Harri not to start throwing up.
It hurt so much more to think that now she too, was going to be leaving little Teddy Lupin behind.
He was an orphan like she'd been, left to bare the weight of loss from such a young age.
All Harri could hope was that he'd be surrounded by more love than she had been. That Andromeda Tonks and the Weasleys and Hermione would step in and care for him when Harri couldn't. They'd tell him that she did it for love.
Still, her lips wobbled as she looked into amber eyes, "Remus...your son-"
But he only gave her a gentle smile, he'd always been so kind to her, such a drastic difference from how the wizarding world viewed werewolves as vicious monsters.
"He'll grow up knowing what his mother and Father died for. A better world. For him and everyone else. Something I'm terribly sorry we couldn't give to you." His voice was soft, but sincere. An apology she'd never gotten, not from anyone.
An apology for the fact she'd never been safe, except-
Harriet finally let herself look at the last person, her eyes welling.
The first person who'd made her feel safe. Loved. Understood. Unjudged.
Sirius.
He too looked so much younger. Years in Azkaban had given him a gaunt and haunted look, but not here. Not now. Not when he'd found peace in death, finally reunited with his family, all the pain of the 14 years spent without them seemed to have fallen away.
It was a balm to her heart as well as a wound.
Even after two years, the loss of her Godfather still left her feeling raw.
He'd loved her in her entirety. No questions asked, even when the ghost of James and Lily haunted them both. He'd always done his best to be there for her, had always come to her when she needed him.
He'd spent months in a cave just to be there for her in her fourth year when it felt like she'd lost everyone else. Even when he'd been at such a high risk of being caught and going back to Azkaban.
Harri felt like she'd never been loved like that before and never would be again.
Seeing him hurt so much worse than everyone else. All she wanted was to run into his arms, to be told it would all be alright.
But it would be an empty assurance. Nothing about this was alright. They were here for a reason. Just as she was.
"I'm sorry. I- I never wanted any of you to die for me."
Her father gave her a grin, fierce in the way only a parent could be, "There was nothing in this world I would've rather die for."
Harri shut her eyes tightly, but the tears still poured down her cheeks. She only opened them again when her mother spoke, voice soft.
"You've come so far, Darling. We are so proud of you."
She wanted to scream that she was nothing, useless, worthless. Unworthy of the lives they sacrificed for her. But something told her that they would never see it that way. That they'd simply keep smiling at her as they were.
Unconditional love.
Something far more powerful than any spell or enchantment. Even Death.
Her time was limited. She couldn't spend it apologizing and begging forgiveness, not when that was how she'd spent her entire life. She just didn't want to be alone when she faced him one last time.
"Will you come with me?"
"Of course." Remus responded. Gentle guidance, as he'd been for as long as she'd known him.
"And he won't be able to see you?"
The smile on Sirius' face, one she'd spent the last few years missing, sliced through her, leaving her open and bleeding.
"He can't, we're always with you, right," he lifted a ghostly pale hand to point at Harri's chest, right where her heart lay, "here. The ones who love us never leave us, Harriet. We'll be with you."
"Until the very end." Her father added, no room for doubt in his tone.
"Always." Her mother reached towards her, palm out and open, as if she wanted to touch Harri's face. For a moment, Harri wished for nothing more than to feel her mother's hand on her cheek. To be touched with such gentle devotion would make everything better in the way only a mother's touch could.
It was childish, her last question. She felt so small, so young suddenly. Standing in the Forbidden Forest, surrounded by the ghosts of the people she'd loved and lost. Of those she'd never been given the chance to truly know. Who didn't truly know her, but loved her all the same.
"Does it hurt...dying?"
And without meaning to, her eyes went instantly to Sirius' steel grey ones. Seeking the man who'd only ever offered her safe haven. A place to rest her soul.
"Quicker than falling asleep."
Even nearly five years after the Battle of Hogwarts, after her death, Harriet's nights were still plagued by nightmares.
Always vivid, far more detailed than they should be, but her nightmares had always been like that. Even in sleep she couldn't rid herself of the horrors in her life and memories from her past.
Years of change and healing didn't mean it all went away.
Sitting up in bed, her sweat from the night terror making her usually loose shirt cling to her like a second skin. Casting a wandless charm to check the time, revealed it to be just a little after 5 A.M, Harri rubbed at her eyes. She'd finally caved a few years before and gotten the potion to fix her eyesight like Hermione had been hounding her about, so at least the world wasn't blurry until she found her glasses, thought they still remained permanently on her nightstand.
There was a lot to do today and the second she was fully awake, the stress began to sink in.
Pulling herself from the silk sheets of her bed, courtesy of the rich tastes of the Black family, Harriet pulled on a robe and slippers before making her way downstairs, making sure to skip the especially creaky one near the bottom.
Teddy would be up any minute, and unless she wanted a cranky 5-year-old on her hands, she needed to have some breakfast ready.
Despite the loss from the war, Harri had come out of it with one wonderful gain, something she wouldn't trade the world for: her Godson.
As soon as she'd been able, she'd gotten custody sorted out to take him in (which took a few good months of legal work), and they'd moved into Grimmauld place together.
Well, she'd moved in, Teddy had been a babbling six-month-old who couldn't exactly help with unpacking boxes or cleaning dust from old furniture. So, she'd started their life off with the daunting task of making Sirius' childhood home into well- an actual home.
That's where her friends and Kreacher had come in.
During her time here, Kreacher had become almost a friend. She'd forgiven him long ago for his part in her Godfathers death, recognizing it was unfair to put all her grief and rage on his shoulders, especially when if she's been just a little less impulsive she would've remembered the mirror he'd given her and called him.
He was only doing as he was taught. How could anyone be anything more than a monster when that's all they've ever been shown to be?
As if summoned by her thoughts, right as she began sorting through cupboards, a pop sounded behind her.
"What is Mistress needing, let Kreacher do it." His gravelly voice insisted.
Rolling her eyes with fondness for the house elf, Harri turned to face him. He was dressed in much nicer and cleaner robes, a dark green with a mixture of the Potter and Black house symbols on a little crest pinning the robes in place above one shoulder. It had been one of her compromises with him, she thought he had deserved something better to wear, not wanting him to feel unappreciated.
In her heart she'd thought of another house elf in dirty rags whose memory still brought a dull ache when Kreacher had gotten misty eyed.
"I'm fine, Kreacher, Thank you. I'm only making Teddy, and I breakfast, you know he'll be a little nightmare if I don't." She ended her sentence with a small yawn, still drained from her actual nightmare.
The night she had died was a reoccurring thing her brain loved to bring up. There were such conflicting emotions from it that even years later Harri struggled to sort through them all. Or heal from them. How does someone even begin to process their own death?
Ron and Hermione had admitted their own nightmares of that night, or more, the following morning, when they'd seen her limp body cradled in Hagrid's arms.
Nothing could match the guilt Harri had felt when her best friend had looked at her weeks after the battle, tears in his eyes as he said, "I thought I'd lost you. I- I can't sleep sometimes, remembering how it had felt to think I'd never see you again...I know why you did it, Harri. But if you'd truly died, I'm not sure I wouldn't have been far behind you."
Hermione had merely squeezed his hand, cheeks wet and gave a nod of agreement. For the first time, she hadn't been able to find words and that told Harri much more than anything else had.
She'd never meant to hurt them like that. The only response she'd been able to give them was that when she'd passed, entered limbo and spoken to Dumbledore, the entire time she'd felt two insistent, invisible, strings pulling at her. They were tugging her back, showing her the way out.
Harri liked to imagine those strings were tied to Ron and Hermione, and they were calling her home.
"Let Kreacher make you tea, Mistress. It helps after the bad night." He continued to push, glare on his face but nothing but reverence in his tone. They'd built true respect and friendship over the years, especially when Harriet had officially gotten her inheritance from Gringotts, including taking up the title of Lady Black, Sirius having named her his heir.
Not wanting to fight, she gave the elf a nod and he immediately went to work making cinnamon tea for her. A comforting favorite. Remus had made it for her once during her first visit to Grimmauld Place, placing a chocolate biscuit beside the steaming cup one morning when she'd been awoken by nightmares much the same as today. He hadn't said anything beyond, "Eat and drink up, it'll help."
It had, but not because of the delicious taste or warmth, but because of the care he'd shown in her to make it. Something simple and sweet, to make her feel better.
Harriet returned to her task, gathering everything she needed to make eggs, bacon, and toast before working.
When Kreacher finished her tea, he placed it down beside the stove for her and she gave him a soft thanks before he popped away, most likely off to do some chore or make sure everything was packed.
That's why the day was going to be so stressful.
Moving.
It'd been coming for a while, after the war, she'd been the focus of far too many tabloids and whispers, and she was bloody tired of it.
Tired of constantly being either worshipped or hated, always worried over which it would be that day.
Especially since most people didn't respect her privacy and that was affecting Teddy, which would only get worse as he got older.
That was too far in Harriet's opinion. She'd gone her entire life dealing with it, she wanted more for her Godson, for the boy who was more her own son after these years of raising him.
And past wanting herself and Teddy to have privacy, she was also dreading the day all the photos and whispers made people realize that she wasn't aging.
Other than being healthier from consistent eating after years of starvation then a year on the run, a few tattoos, and getting better control of her hair and looks, Harri wasn't changed from her seventeen-year-old self.
If it wasn't so worrying, she'd be a bit annoyed over the fact she never got another growth spurt and was stuck at 5'2. A height that was constantly on display when standing beside any of the Weasleys who all were abnormally tall and Hermione who was 5'7 with long legs. But that was such a small annoyance in the grand scheme of possible immortality.
Harriet was not looking forward to when Teddy actually grew to the same height as either of his parents because they were both tall as all bloody hell, especially since he was definitely on the smaller end for his age currently. But she feared more for the day he looked older than her...
Him referring to her as 'Mum' would be a lot harder to explain then, already she got looks from strangers about how young she 'was' to have a five-year-old.
Flipping the bacon on the pan, Harriet began cracking her eggs, scrambling them in a separate pan, trying to focus on that instead of anything else.
As she did, she heard a set of small footsteps padding around above her, before a door opened and those steps began down the stairs, the one step loudly creaking beneath him.
Warmth filled her chest, Teddy was awake.
"Momma?" His little voice was sleepy, and she glanced over her shoulder at where he stood, hands clutching onto his black dog plushie, a gift from Ron and Hermione.
He was the best thing that had ever happened to her, this tiny little thing that had gone from a screaming infant to a curious and sweet toddler and child who wanted more than anything to be Harriet's little shadow.
For so long she'd carried such guilt whenever she looked into his amber eyes, so much like his dad's, thinking on how he'd go his entire without knowing the man, knowing his mom. Even if he saw Harriet as his momma, and that had been a punch to the gut the first time he said it, it was terrible he wouldn't know Tonks for the bubbly humorous woman she had been.
But the guilt had made way for unending love. After Andromeda, Ron, and Hermione had all sat her down and knocked some sense into her that if she always looked at Teddy with guilt, it would hurt him the way it had hurt her to always be seen as her parents' mirror. And she didn't want to do that to him.
She could still feel the twist of her heart every time Sirius had struggled to look at her. It had never been her fault that she looked so much like James and Lily.
"Yes, my little wolf?" She'd taken to calling him that when she noticed he'd gotten a few traits of his father's wolf. He didn't transform, genes like that can't be passed down, but he got hungrier around the full moon and restless. He was fiercely protective of her and anyone he saw as his family like a wolf, though it was of course limited to glaring or funny comments since he was only five. Wolves also happened to be his favorite animal and so, he was her little wolf.
Teddy shuffled his way over, rubbing at his eyes. Moving the pans of the stove and turning it off, she gave him her full attention, squatting down to be eye to eye to him since he only came up to her hip barely. His messy hair was currently a brilliant purple, indicating a mixture of excitement and nerves.
Another set of genes he'd gotten, this time from his metamorphogus mother. It was relegated mainly to eye and hair color and usually only for emotions or when he was a baby, he'd change hair for who he wanted to hold him.
That had been complicated when Teddy's hair had turn ginger and he had to be passed around the Weasleys while crying as they all tried to figure out which one he wanted to hold him.
Reaching a handout, she ran her fingers through his hair, parting through any tangles gently. He shuffled closer and she recognized when he wanted to be held. Harriet quickly swung him up and into her arms, letting a bit of an 'oomph' out as she took on his weight.
"What's for breakfast, Momma?" He asked into her shoulder.
"Well, we've got some bacon, eggs, and toast. Perfect for a growing boy with a busy day ahead of him." She turned to show him the pans and he hummed a bit in acknowledgement. Planting a kiss on his cheek, she placed him down in his special lifted seat at the table, smiling as he instinctually placed his plushie on the table and grabbed his napkin to place it on his lap.
So polite. Andromeda and Narcissa had made sure to teach him his manners. Especially since Harri still ate like she was a teenage boy.
It wasn't her fault she had to eat quickly growing up or she wouldn't eat at all, and she had been unable to break the habit even now as an adult with a consistent food source, though she was better about it in polite company.
Narcissa was an interesting matter. An unexpected one as well. Harri held a great deal of respect for the woman for looking Voldemort in the eyes and lying to him to protect both her only child and Harriet. Without her, Harri would've truly been dead. However, when she'd first taken Teddy in, she'd made it clear to the woman that she'd allow no one with bigotry and prejudices around her godson. The Lady Malfoy had been quick to agree, though it had still been months for her to unlearn so much of her old pureblood beliefs.
After the war, as Harri and Draco grew a strange friendship, and with Andromeda and her being sisters attempting to rekindle their bond, adding in Teddy, Harri and Narcissa had come to a mutual respect and deep regard for each other.
That relationship had only grown stronger after Andromeda had passed, losing so much at her age had weakened her, and only two years after the war she'd gotten sick, magic could only do so much for her, and months later she'd passed in her sleep.
It had been peaceful, and Harri could only mourn her and hope she was happy being with her husband and daughter again.
Narcissa continued to come around relatively often though, wanting to see Teddy and help instill some manners and class into him.
If the woman saw the way Harri let him eat with his hands most of the time, she'd probably have a heart attack.
Telling Narcissa that they would be leaving the wizarding world hadn't been easy. Mostly because Harri had let her fears get the better of her and she'd shattered one of the Lady Malfoys teacups with her jittering. Of course, that was easily fixed. Harri's embarrassment on the other hand, not so much.
But the woman had taken it in stride. Understanding that Harri was tired of being in public eyes and didn't want Teddy suffering for it. Narcissa was amongst the few people that saw Harri not as the young hero- but simply a woman and mother.
The Weasleys hadn't taken it nearly as well.
Molly had nearly burst into tears, hugging Harri tight to her. Everyone else had to help pry her off when Harri had begun losing oxygen.
They'd been worried that it meant she was never coming back, or they'd never see her. It was weird that the half-blood had to remind the purebloods who'd grown up in the magical world that magic existed, and she could easily be back at any time.
Still, they'd made her swear to write constantly and come back as often as possible.
Ron and Hermione were the hardest people to really tell though. Mostly because Harri didn't want to say goodbye to them. Even if they could be back with each other within an hour of them wanting to.
Harriet wouldn't have survived after the war without them. Wouldn't have been able to pull herself out of Sirius room where she'd holed herself up in after leaving Hogwarts, wearing the old sweater Fred had left behind.
But she needed to do this. For herself and for her son.
Besides, Mystic Falls sounded like a good fresh start. Somewhere safe and small for Teddy to grow up before Harri would have to send him off to Hogwarts.
Thinking of that was like dropping a heavy stone into her stomach. But that was still a good six years away, plenty of time to get over the anxiety of sending Teddy away from her.
Placing a kiss on his head, Harri turned away from Teddy and began putting the food on the plates for them.
She called Kreacher in and asked politely for him to charm the dishes, it was a small thing she could've done but it made him happy to be asked to do those things and it was no skin off her back.
"How'd you sleep, Teddybear?" Harri spoke around a forkful of eggs.
He gave her a small shrug as he dug into his own food, having spread grape jelly across his toast.
She reached her own napkin out to wipe the jelly that fell onto his shirt without really thinking about it.
Teddy was normally quiet in the mornings, so his response didn't worry her much. However, he was going back and forth on the move emotionally and since it was today, she worried over where on the emotion spectrum he landed today.
He was excited for a new place and new friends, but he didn't like that he wouldn't spend weekends at the Burrow anymore or have Auntie Cissa and Uncle Drac over for tea and books.
It had been easy to find a place to move, she'd wanted a small town away from Europe with a job that accepted her with a flexible daycare nearby for Teddy. Those narrowed her choices, and after seeing the TA job offer from Mystic Falls high, working alongside the history teacher Mr. Tanner as he'd been planning to eventually move and the transition from one teacher to the next would be simpler with an assistant staying consistent between them, she'd jumped on the offer.
Everything she'd seen of the town was idealic. Cozy with plenty of real estate, though she'd found a nice, secluded place in the woods only 15 minutes from the town square that had four bedrooms and three bathrooms. A bit much for just the two of them but she anticipated guests seeing as her friends were likely to pop in randomly to check in on her and her son.
The seclusion of the home was perfect for wards and magic, especially since Teddy would want space to run and play without the glamor, she'll have to put on him to make sure no one saw any of his changing hair or eye colors. Or his bouts of accidental magic. Though, she was lucky that most of it so far had just been magically appearing toys to his hand when they were far away. He was a very easygoing child and very rarely had any outbursts that caused violent accidental magic.
When they were finished eating, Harriet placed their plates on the counter for Kreacher before lifting Teddy back up to bring him upstairs to change.
"What shall we wear today? Any thoughts?" She asked pushing his door open with her other hip before putting him down.
She placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head down at her Godson who was eyeing his closet with intense focus.
"Green, please."
"Good choice, little wolf." Harriet gave a quick nod before digging through his closet to find a soft forest green shirt and a pair of loose grey jeans that would be comfortable.
When she'd gotten an approving nod from Teddy, she placed them on the bed. He was at the age of dressing himself though he still asked for help sometimes. Then she waved her wand and had the rest of his clothes packed into a box which she then shrank down for easy transportation, placing it to the side for Kreacher to add to her bag with the rest of the shrunken boxes.
"Whenever you're ready I'll be downstairs with your shoes and we can get going, alright love?"
Teddy's hair turned a shocking blue, pure excitement and anticipation which made her laugh. She hated the idea of him being nervous.
At least they'd already said their goodbyes. That had not been easy at all and would've made today much more difficult.
Teddy had spent a large portion of the time crying in Harri's arms, and usually Harriet kept her emotions in check so as not to add to the boy's stress, but she'd cried herself. Already missing her family and friends. The life she'd finally started living here.
But she was haunted. Still seeing the ghost of Sirius in the halls of Grimmauld place, still seeing memories, good and bad, lingering in every major spot throughout the wizarding world.
She still couldn't set foot in Weasley Wizard Wheezes. Not when she knew she'd never see Fred's wolfish grin anywhere inside it. The loss of him, of what they were, still eating away at her.
The pain had eased somewhat, but despite everyone's urging, she'd found herself unable to seek any new kind of romantic relationship.
Even if it left her feeling lonely. Even if she missed that kind of intimacy.
Though, Fred and her and never taken the last step. Too young or too busy or too 'trying not to die' to find time to....
So, she was 23 and a virgin. It didn't bother her. It wasn't important. She had a lot of other things to worry about and losing her virginity was nowhere near a priority.
Even if she felt a distinctly sharp longing in her chest whenever she saw Ron and Hermione comfortable in their little bubble together. Inside jokes or moments of silent conversations that she wasn't a part of (and didn't want to be) but made her want something of that for herself. Wanted someone to rely on, to fully share her burdens and fears with.
But it was fine. She had Teddy to worry about. Romance had never been all that important to her before. Fred had come out of nowhere truly. She hadn't even known she'd been hopelessly in love with him until he'd kissed her at the Yule Ball her fourth year. After that, she'd felt stupid for not realizing it sooner.
Oblivious is the word Hermione used. But Harri just thought she was too busy trying to survive every year.
Losing Fred had felt like losing her joy and laughter. He'd been the one who always made her smile at her lowest times.
It had been a very long while before she'd found it again.
Jerking from her thoughts at the sound of Teddy bounding back down the stairs, Harri smiled brightly at the boy.
Her joy and laughter in the flesh.
"Shoes?"
Harri wiggled the pair of tennis shoes in the air and Teddy immediately plopped down at the bottom of the stairs and lifted little feet, waiting for her to put them on.
"Right away your majesty" The young mother laughed, squatting down to slip the shoes on his feet. He gave her a little giggle before reaching arms out to be lifted again. "You're spoiled, you know that? You're getting too big for this, little wolf."
But Harriet knew even if she was old and grey she'd hold her boy close if he needed her.
"Alright, Kreacher!" The house elf popped in next to her. "Everything ready?"
"Yes, Mistress. Kreacher has already brought everything to the new home and Kreacher has the port key ready." He lifted up a small coin. The port key would take them to the yard in front of the home. The goblins and Kingsley Shackelbolt, new minister of magic, already assuring she would have a car, Sirius' old flying motorcycle, and any ID she'd need waiting for her there.
All she needed was to get Teddy checked into his daycare the next day and set up as the new TA.
"Thank you Kreacher, what's the word?"
"Bumblebee, Ma'am. It'll activate and you'll leave a minute later."
Meeting her sons' eyes, Harri leaned forward to kiss his nose then looked around at Grimmauld Place. Ron and Hermione would be there the next day to move in and take care of it for her, and possibly make it a permanent home for themselves as Harri had already told them they should.
Still, her eyes latched on the kitchen table, remembering Sirius sitting there with Remus, both warm and alive. Reunited after twelve years, only to be lost to each other again so soon after.
She'd miss it. She needed this start with her son, but leaving her home of five years, and the wizarding world which she'd found a place in for the last 12 years, was like cutting off a limb.
Teddy caught her attention, a large smile on his face showing off the missing front tooth. The site of that smile steeled her resolve. He deserved more of life, more from her.
"Bumblebee."
And with a pull in her navel, Harriet Potter and Teddy Lupin were whisked away to Mystic Falls.