Author's Notes: Hello all, I'm skipping the events at Malfoy Manor. This chapter begins at the saddest point in the book. As I've stated before, I'm sticking to book canon. If the book has someone die, then they'll die in my story too. Sorry, but I can't bring myself to do anything else.
Harry Potter belongs in whole to JK Rowling, I'm just borrowing him for a while.
Chapter Thirteen
The smell of the sea overwhelmed Heather's nostrils as she, Hermione, Ron, Griphook, and Dobby landed in a heap. Grunting with pain, Hermione was lying on the small of her back, Heather pulled herself out of the pile, feeling the gritty sand between her fingers. Finally free, she climbed into a sitting position. She couldn't see much in the gloom surrounding them except for a few shapes moving towards them, backlit by the lights in a house some fifty yards away.
"Are we here Dobby?" she asked, drawing the two wands from her pocket and preparing to fight. When he didn't respond, she tore her eyes away from the silhouettes to look for him. Dobby was lying next to Griphook, not moving.
"Dobby!" she cried, catching sight of the silver knife protruding from his tiny chest. Any potential threat that the approaching shadows might pose was forgotten in an instant and Heather was at the elf's side. He was still breathing, but barely.
"HELP!" she cried. If only they could get him up to the house, he would be alright.
"Heather...Potter" whispered the elf, a peaceful smile crossing his lips as he looked up into her face. With a last rattling breath, the body in her arms went limp and the eyes rolled back.
Time stopped and Heather wasn't sure how long it was before she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Luna, Dobby's last act had been to bring them to safety.
"Hermione?" Heather asked, her voice breaking.
"Ron took her inside. Dean and Griphook are in there as well" Luna replied kindly. Bill emerged from the darkness and stood next to them, gazing down at the body in Heather's arms.
"I want to bury him. Do you have a spade?" she asked.
"Yeah," answered Bill, "But Harry-"
"Later." Heather said, rising and clutching Dobby closer. Silently, Bill led her to a spot in the garden that overlooked the sea and summoned a spade from a shed. He watched as Heather laid the elf gently on the ground, removing the silver knife from his chest. With a look of pure hatred, she threw the knife as far as she could. If it landed in the ocean the sound of it was covered by the crashing waves, but she didn't care.
As Heather set to work both Bill and Luna retreated back into the house. Grief and pain coursed through her blocking out any thought for a while. Her scar burned as she dug but no visions came to mind. For the first time in months she didn't give a damn what Voldemort was doing. All that mattered was that Dobby was dead.
But how had he known her name? True, he had been sent by Madam Pomfrey last year to retrieve her clothes, but there no way the matron would have divulged Heather's name for that task. And who had sent him to save them in the first place? She stopped digging to look once more into the glassy eyes, wishing he could answer her questions.
Hallows or Horcruxes, Heather or Harry were the thoughts that preoccupied her as she resumed digging. It was over, her cover was blown. The Death Eaters knew she was a girl now, even if they only thought it was a disguise. This meant that she wouldn't be able to use her claim of it only being a subterfuge with the Order anymore either. It's time came the little voice in the back of her mind, the one that had told her she was a girl for the first time all those years ago. It's time it said again louder, momentarily drowning out her grief and panic.
"I know" Heather whispered to the darkness.
"Harry?" Ron said from behind her. Unseen, he and Dean had approached carrying spades.
"My name is Heather" she said forcefully, stepping aside to give them room. She looked directly at Dean, trying to glimpse any sign of a reaction to this but there wasn't any. In silence they dug.
The darkness began to lighten, dawn wasn't far off. Heather's hands were sore and split in places, coating the handle of her shovel with blood. When the grave had reached a deep enough point, all three stood back and gazed at each other, not sure what to do next. Whether they had heard the digging cease or had planned to come out at that moment anyway, Bill, Fleur, Hermione, and Luna emerged from the house and came over.
All Heather could think as they buried the elf and spoke over his grave was that Dobby deserved so much more than this simple grave. She remembered the funeral for Dumbledore, with hundreds of attendees and a ornate tomb. When it was done and Bill had covered the grave, Heather asked for a moment alone. She selected a stone from nearby and engraved into it Here lies Dobby, a free elf. It was the best she could do but she promised Dobby that if ever this war ended and she survived, she'd make this right.
Tearing her eyes away from the stone before tears returned, Heather squared her shoulders and set off for the house. Whatever would happen, was going to happen. No point in putting it off any longer. Bill was in the sitting room with everyone except Griphook and Ollivander. It turned out that while she had been digging, he had been helping evacuate the rest of the Weasley family from the Burrow. Ron being discovered with Heather meant that they were all in danger now too. Plans were already made for moving Ollivander and Griphook to Muriel's.
"No. I need to talk to them."
She turned on her heel and walked into the kitchen to wash the sweat and blood from her hands, leaving a stunned silence in the sitting room. Under the cold water in the sink her blisters hurt, but the pain no longer affected her, not in that moment. The sun was rising, turning the sky a blood red. It was time to decide, would she go after the Hallows or the Horcruxes.
Bill and Fleur were both waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. When she made to pass them Fleur held out a hand. "No. You cannot question zem. Zey are too tired."
Heather forestalled further protests with a determined look. "I'm sorry, but I need to talk to both of them, seperately."
"Harry, what the hell is going on? You show up in the dead of night, Hermione's been tortured, Ron won't say anything, and you look like a girl."
Heather stared him down. "Bill, you know I've got a job to do. It's on Dumbledore's orders. As for this," she waved a vague hand over her features, "I'll explain later."
He wasn't happy about it, but Bill nodded after a minute. "Who do you want to talk to first?"
"Griphook. And I'll need you two as well" she called this last part into the sitting room where Hermione and Ron had been skulking unseen. Sheepishly they came out and followed Heather and Bill up the stairs while Fleur watched, shaking her head.
The interviews didn't last long. Griphook was lying on Bill and Fleur's bed, his legs being mended by Skele-gro, still clutching the sword. When Heather asked for his help to break into Gringotts, the goblin flatly refused, saying it was impossible. It took all of Heather and Hermione's tact to bring him around to the point where he said he would think about it. This being the best they were going to get, they withdrew, Heather taking the sword with her at the last minute.
Out on the landing, Heather explained quickly in low tones. In the back of her mind she saw the familiar outline of Hogwarts and knew Voldemort had found the wand. In Ollivander's room, Heather and Ron produced the wands they had taken at Malfoy Manor. The one that felt so comfortable in Heather's hands, almost as her phoenix wand had, had once belonged to Draco Malfoy.
"Once belonged?" she asked.
"Yes. I do believe that when you took it, it's allegiance switched to you. It's a tricky subject, wand lore."
Heather careful broached the subject of the Elder Wand, unsure if she wanted Ollivander to confirm it's existence or state that it was a legend, nothing more. As they spoke, Heather saw Voldemort crossing the grounds, moving slowly towards the white tomb.
Ollivander was fading, and they excused themselves. Heather didn't say another word until they had reached the privacy of the garden. As best as she could with her scar burning, she walked Hermione and Ron through everything she had heard and suspected since their arrival at Malfoy Manor. She told them about Dumbledore having the wand, and at Ron's insistence that she go for it, she gave in to the vision that had been trying to take over for hours. Voldemort cracked open the tomb and retrieved the Elder Wand from the dead hands of Albus Dumbledore. It was too late, and she had other things to worry about. Dumbledore had wanted her to seek the horcruxes, and destroy them. For better or worse, that was what she was going to do.
They came back into the house from the garden to once more find Bill in the sitting room. Dean was passed out on the couch, still sitting upright, while Luna was peering closely at a seashell wind chime right inside the door. Fleur wasn't there but bustling noises could be heard from the kitchen. Unsure of what to do, Heather took the empty armchair close to the fire. The clock on the mantle showed that it was after ten o'clock. Her brain struggled to account for all of those hours but moved to sluggishly.
Fleur entered with a tray of sandwiches and tea, the smell of it waking Dean. Wordlessly they dug in, conversation held at bay by full and ravenous mouths. After her second sandwich, Heather saw Bill was watching her and knew the time had come. Wiping her mouth with her sleeve, Heather said to the room at large, "So, I'm sure you all have some questions."
No one spoke for a full minute before Fleur coughed and said, "'Arry, vy do you look like a girl?"
"Because I am a girl." Heather answered firmly.
"Of course you are. You told me that at the wedding" piped up Luna, smiling at Heather.
"You vere a girl at our vedding?" asked Fleur, who looked like she was racking her brain trying to remember. "Ze one in ze green dress!" she cried suddenly, taking Heather in again with an approving eye. Heather blushed and nodded.
Bill cut in then, "So what exactly do you mean, that you're a girl?"
Heather looked up at him. He didn't look angry or disapproving, but his tone held an edge in it. "Exactly that. I'm not a boy, I'm not Harry, not anymore. I haven't been for over a year. I've just been hiding it from everyone, well almost everyone. My name is Heather."
As she spoke her eyes left Bill and moved to Dean. Understanding the unspoken question, he shrugged. "I mean, it makes sense. You've acted like one since third year. Explains a lot actually."
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before now." Heather said to him.
"No big deal. Gonna take some getting used to though."
"Who else knows?" asked Bill, cutting across.
She turned and eyed him warily. "Well, your mum for one, Ginny too."
Bill's eyes widened somewhat at that, prompting Ron to add, "Yeah, and if you disapprove or anything, be on the look out. Ginny nearly murdered me a few times when I had my head up my arse about this."
"Vy would ve disapprove?" asked Fleur. "I already know zat you have started your potions, remember? From ze night we came to get you from your families' house."
"You know about the potions?" asked Heather incredulously.
"Of course," replied Fleur, waving her wand dismissively. "You are not ze first girl like you I have met. Zey are rare in France, but not unheard of."
"I never knew that" said Heather.
"Ve French have somevat broader minds zan you English sometimes, I think." Fleur said, turning to look at her husband. Bill was still staring at Heather, his face a blank mask. Once upon a time, Heather would have quailed at his gaze, her body going into panic mode. Now however, she sat and looked right back. What did it matter if he didn't accept her?
After several long moments, Bill's features softened and he shook his head. "Sorry Ha-Heather, was it?" She nodded, and he continued. "Just took a minute for it all to sink in. It's nice to meet the real you. I remember you from the wedding now. I never would have guessed that was you."
"Well, zere will have to be some changes to ze sleeping arrangements zen" said Fleur, standing up from her chair and taking charge in a manner that closely resembled her mother-in-law. There were three bedrooms in the small house. One was shared by Bill and Fluer, the smallest which Mr. Ollivander shared with Griphook, and the one shared by the three girls. It was certainly cramped, but much better than the alternative.
Ron and Dean camped out in the sitting room downstairs, a fate Heather missed out on due to Fleur's insistence that she shouldn't be sleeping in the same room as boys. When Heather pointed out that, even as a girl, she had been sharing a dormitory with boys for years, Fleur batted away the argument. "Zat may be, but you are a girl now. Under my roof, girls don't sleep with ze boys." She winked at Heather, and gave her a small push up the stairs.
There were two beds in their room. Heather and Hermione shared the larger of the two while Luna had the smaller one to herself. For the first few days Heather felt timid about being herself around so many people, even people who had accepted her. There were several times she was addressed by the wrong name or called a boy on accident but she didn't care. Her biggest champion, other than Hermione, Ron, and Luna, was Fleur. From that moment onwards she never slipped up, and did her best to make sure Heather was comfortable.
Heather spent most of her days outside the cottage, so as to avoid the crowdedness. It was there that Fleur found her, Hermione, and Ron a few days into their stay.
"Heather, ze goblin wishes to speak to you." She said contemptuously. It was clear that she didn't like Griphook anymore than Heather did.
Upstairs in the bedroom that Heather shared with the girls was Griphook's retreat during the waking hours of the day. He informed them as soon as the door had closed that he would help them, but only in exchange for the sword of Gryffindor. Heather tried to barter with him, Ron even suggested he steal whatever he wanted from the Lestrange's vault as payment. This was the wrong thing to say. Furious, Griphook left no room for further negotiation. Either they hand over the sword, or he wouldn't help.
Out in the hallway, they discussed his price. Ron was all for tricking him, at which Hermione shot him a scathing look. There was no way they could hand over their only weapon against the horcruxes before they were all destroyed. When this thought popped into her head, Heather had an idea. She would hand over the sword once Voldemort was destroyed, not before. She just didn't feel the need to inform Griphook of that little caveat.
With the goblin's assistance, they set to work. Using a hair that Hermione had pulled from her jumper the night they had been taken to Malfoy Manor, they intended for one of them to take Polyjuice Potion and become Bellatrix. Using her aura and power they would bully their way into the bank and gain access to the Lestrange vault. Hermione looked sick at the idea of becoming Bellatrix. Resignedly, Heather took on that role in the plan herself. It would be easier for her to impersonate the woman's imperious manner than it would be for Hermione. She, after all, had far more direct experience with the odious witch.
One night in April, several weeks after their abrupt arrival, they were all eating dinner around the cramped table when there was a loud pounding on the door. In an instant wands were drawn and aimed, and everyone was on their feet. Bill moved forward, covered by Heather, Hermione, Ron, and Fleur, and called out "Who is it?"
"It is Remus Lupin, werewolf, wife of Nymphadora. You, the secret keeper of this house told me to come if there was news."
The tension in the room evaporated. Bill sprang forward to wrench the door open and pull Lupin inside.
"Tonks had her baby!" he gushed as soon as he was inside. Fleur and Hermione shrieked, Ron cheered, and Heather just smiled. It was as though the months of danger and anxiety were lifted from her for just this minute. Lupin looked around the room and Heather tensed, remembering the words she had thrown at him on their last meeting. Lupin's eyes found hers, and that same quizzical look he had worn during the wedding and at Grimmauld Place returned.
"Harry?" he said, moving towards her.
"Zat is Heather, Remus." Interjected Fleur.
Lupin paused, then shook his head and let out a whispered, "Damn."
"What?" asked Heather, nonplussed.
"It's nothing." Lupin said.
"Clearly it's something, spit it out." Said Ron, rising to face the man.
Lupin threw up his hands, "Oh no, it's nothing like that! It's just...I owe Tonks ten galleons now." At this he started to chuckle and smiled at Heather.
"You what?" she asked.
"She's been saying you were really a girl since we saw you at the wedding. Didn't buy your disguise story for a second. So, she bet me ten galleons."
"Smart woman, that one" murmured Bill.
"She really is." Agreed Lupin. He reached a hand out and took Heather's. "Well, you'll be godmother?"
"Godmother?" Heather asked, she had completely forgotten the news that Lupin had brought.
"For Teddy" he said, smiling at her. "Dora completely agrees."
Numbly, Heather nodded. Cheers broke out and Bill summoned a bottle of wine. Lupin's protests that he couldn't stay were overrode, and it wasn't long before one glass turned into Bill opening a second bottle, then a third.