"It doesn't hurt me
Do you wanna feel how it feels?
Do you wanna know, know that it doesn't hurt me?
Do you wanna hear about the deal that I'm making?
It's you and me
And if I only could
I'd make a deal with God
And I'd get Him to swap our places
Be runnin' up that road
Be runnin' up that hill
Be runnin' up that building
Say, if I only could, oh"
-Running up that hill, Kate Bush
******
The hall was full of celebratory cheers, singing, and even dancing by people who were able to stand. The boisterous noise carried into the entrance hall, traveling up the stairs to the landing where George sat with Harper between his legs and Joy settled in front of them both. The healer muttering under her breath as she rushed to heal the wounds both of them had earned tonight.
George kept a firm hold around Harper's torso, his other hand brushing away her hair from her face, careful to avoid the jagged scar on her left side. Attempting not to picture brushing the hair of a doll, memories of playing house with Ginny and her dolls twisted his stomach uncomfortably. He tried to push away the bubbling anxiety in his chest as Harper continued to sit in her catatonic state
"Seems like you had a hell of a night, Harps," Joy said lightheartedly, glancing at her friend who remained quiet.
"Is this far enough away?" George prompted, waving his hand toward the doors to the Great Hall.
Harper inclined her head once, Joy frowned meeting George's eyes with a quirked eyebrow.
"Sweetie?" Joy said softly, offering a large green vial Harper took quietly, "how'd you get this scar on your face?"
There was a shiver that traveled down Harper's spine, George felt it start in her neck and move through each vertebrae as he held her to him.
Harper began to make a series of gestures and squeaks, something wet dropped onto his forearm followed by sniffling.
"Shh, shh..I'm sorry, lovey. Im sorry, shh," Joy cooed, pulling Harper forward into a hug. Joy looked at him, her eyes were wide with worry.
"I had a hell of a night, I'll have you know, Harpsichord," George said lightly. Harper turned her head, looking over her shoulder, the jagged scar traveled along from her left earlobe and up across her cheek, touching the edge of her eye and disappearing into her hair. Anyone would've flinched away from the gnarly sight, George smiled, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear.
Hello, beautiful
No response, not even a small flush to her skin, George's heart sank with devastation.
"I was stuck with an angry Angelina and a injured Ryder, worse combination of people to be paired with since being paired with Fred in Divination. Do you know how often Victor complained?! It was every other sentence!"
Harper snorted, the corner of her mouth lifted, George smiled, lifting her hand to his lips. Joy held out a small jar, the contents were a plush silver colored lotion that shimmered in the ever rising sunlight.
"Left wrist," Joy said, offering up the jar to him another time.
"Look at that, Harpsichord. Joyful is trusting me with your care," George joked, taking the jar with a smirk.
Joy's face flushed, giving a roll of her eyes. "Piss off, George."
Harper lifted her wrist wordlessly, her gaze going to the door way below them. Joy shifted to the step below them, coming to sit beside George's knee and work on the gnarly wound winding along Harper's face.
"Well, it's not a cursed wound. That's good! It'll heal and with my help," she flipped her hair over her shoulder. "This scar will be gone in a month! Isn't that nice?"
Even with the joyous noise going to them, the air around them went dead still. George's fingers stopped moving the salve into Harper's skin, waiting for her response—if she gave one.
"I died."
A vial Joy was holding clattered onto the stairs, the noise loud in George's ear. Joy went pale white, Harper began shaking against him, folding further into him.
"I died saving Freddie...."
"Well, could've fooled me, you're pretty corporeal to me," he pinched her thigh.
"Ugh!" Joy hissed, shaking her head at the poor taste in joke.
"You use to think my jokes were funny, Joyful," George taunted. Joy gave him a withering look in response.
The corners of Harper's mouth lifted slightly, she continued to keep her gaze in front of her but she pressed harder into his chest. He could feel every tremble of her body, putting the salve down, he tightly wrapped his arms around her.
Tears slowly fell down her face, her body shaking from head to toe. Joy frowned, taking Harper's hands in her own.
"Tell us when you're ready, Harps."
"I'm sorry," Harper whispered.
"What could you possibly be apologizing for, Harpsichord?!" George said, looking at her incredulously, there was not a single thing she needed to apologize for.
"I'd seen how he was going to die, all night, I knew it. I saw this giant outside the windows coming for the castle...." He swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat, Harper let out a shivering breath. Joy leaned over George's knee, gripping Harper's hands tightly, tears were falling behind her glasses, shaking her head.
"Percy and Freddie were all the way at the other end of the corridor and I booked it...apparating could've worked but they were dueling so..." Harper took a long pause, George had to remind himself to breathe, a bead of sweat traveled down his spine like a bead of ice. "Percy was far enough away from Freddie he was safe and he...he didn't have anything wrong with him so I lunged at Fred and...we were buried alive."
George didn't know how to respond, his throat was dry. Joy made a squeak, pulling away to cover her face in shock.
"All night I saw death, we met up with Victor? His neck was snapped when I looked at him, Tonks and Lupin too....Alexandria when she found me looked like a vampire got her," Harper cleared her throat, George went to push her hair from her face. "Don't get me started about what the Great Hall looked like...and then my father..." the hairs on his neck stood up immediately.
"Lovey..." Joy breathed.
"What do we look like to you now, Harpsichord?" George whispered, completely fascinated, Joy shot him a dirty look.
Harper shook her head in response. "Is Alexandria alright?"
Joy and George shared a look, Alexandria was one of the more critical survivors, she was in fact attacked and immediately transported to Mungo's. Joy didn't give further information.
Fresh tears fell onto George's forearm, Harper turned and wrapped her arms around his neck, curling into him, her head resting just under his chin. Joy gently rubbed Harper's back, her crying became a sort of yowling.
"My father was out there.....Alexandria, she'd saved me from him and then..." Harper gasped for air, pushing against George's arms, trying to free herself.
"I'll send someone to get him, Harps," Joy promised, wiping her own tears.
"Dementors almost got me," Harper gave a sadistic laugh, George's pulse quickened as rapidly as Harper's mental state changed, "Charlie caught me. I-I-I thought my mother was in the forest."
Harper sank against George's chest, the tears falling faster, her chest rising and falling with each sob looked painful. Joy looked away, pausing her mending of her friend's injuries, her shoulders were the only indication that she was holding back her own tears.
"What good am I?" At this Joy's face turned red, glowering at her friend in outrage.
"Harp—"
"—I have these visions and each time I've let a version of them occur. Cedric would still be here if I hadn't lollygagged around, had I just been honest....." her hands made fists of George's shirt, her ring finger found one of the rouge holes he'd gotten, her nail scratching his skin as she pulled at the fabric. "Sure, I can't protect the castle from burning...but...I failed. I completely and utterly failed."
"Failed?! How?! How did you possibly fail?!" Joy asked, a bit outrageously, George gave her a warning look as Harper pressed herself harder against him—as if she were trying to shrink away from the blonde.
"Protecting everyone," she finally looked at her friend, her eyes were bloodshot and beyond exhaustion.
"I saw so many glimpses into how someone was going to die and I failed..."
"Who did you fail?" George said softly, a contrast to Joy's scandalized tone.
"Them. Everyone. All the people laying on that floor, my parents," Harper waved a hand gesturing to the double doors to the hall.
George nodded slowly, Harper continued to make herself invisible in his arms, Joy continued to glare, looking through her mediwitch pack for something.
"Were you near Collin Creevey then?" Joy asked.
Harper stilled in George's arms, thinking before shaking her head.
"Were you by Zacharias Smith then?" George asked.
"No."
"What about..." George let out a sigh, there had been twenty other faces on the floor of the Great Hall. Most of them a charred mess he didn't want to imagine sifting through. "What about Penelope Clearwater?"
"Now you're just guessing people," Harper muttered, leaning away to shoot him a glare.
"My point is: did you see all of those people who willingly fought tonight? They knew what was coming. It wasn't like you'd hid that fact from anyone."
"But I did," she whimpered.
"How?" George asked quietly, she leaned into his chest, tucking her chin into her knees, interlacing their fingers to make a cocoon from their arms.
"I could've said what I'd seen."
"That wouldn't change the outcome of things. War is messy and people understand what it means to fight for their life," Joy reminded her.
"I just—I should've—could've—parents—"
Harper's voice was gone, making a few gasping noises before she collapsed further into herself. George rubbed a large circle on her back as she sobbed, taking big lungfuls of air before crying into his collarbone.
"You can check on others now, Joyful," George said after a minute, Joy pouted while turning a vial over in her hands. Giving a sigh, Joy nodded and placed a few vials on the steps.
"For you, George," Joy instructed, holding a large blue vial up for him. "I'll be back."
Joy slowly left the couple, giving them worried looks a few times as she walked to the Great Hall. Uncertain if Harper was finished being tended to.
"Harper?" George whispered, threading his fingers through her hair when they were finally alone. "I will forever be indebted to you for simply protecting Fred. Even if you feel you failed, you didn't fail me, Ange, him, or our family. You saved my brother...you don't understand how in love with you I am, I can never show how grateful I am to you."
Harper snorted, wiping at her nose.
"Harper, I'm being serious."
"You only use my name when you are...." She muttered, leaning away to meet his gaze. The golden flecks shimmered, the dullness of them tearing at his heart.
George smiled, running his fingers along her arm, watching her stern gaze soften over time.
"I'm happy you're safe," she whispered, smiling at him.
"I'm beyond elated you're safe," he grinned, leaning forward until their noses touched.
Because now we can finally go home
"I don't know where that is," Harper said softer than the breeze that entered through the oak front doors.
George wiped a stray tear away, his throat feeling thick, holding in his own tears at how very real that was.
"We'll find it together then, beautiful."
"What if it takes a long time?"
"I'd search all of eternity just to help you find your perfect home, Harpsichord."
"You're so cheesy," hearing the soft laugh made him grin.
"Almost losing the person you love will do that to a bloke," he said with a smirk.
Harper smiled, her face blushing. "You're the reason I came back....there was this...thing and I realized I didn't wanna leave you."
Pressing his lips to her forehead, he could faintly smell the lemongrass scent of her shampoo underneath the dirt and sweat on her skin.
"Thank you, Harper," whispering against her skin. She nudged his chin with her nose, wrapping her arms around his torso and burying her face under his chin with a shaky breath.
"I love you," she whispered, her arms tightening around him. He smiled, leaning into the embrace, a hand tangling in her hair, he could feel clumps of dirt throughout.
"I love you more, Harpsichord."
"Oi! There you two are!"
Below them, Fred stood with support of a pair of crutches, Angelina holding onto his arm. A jagged scar ran along the right side of Fred's face, a large bruise could be seen under the left side of his shirt collar. A perfect compliment to Harper's own wounds.
Harper tore herself away from George with great effort, hurrying down the stairs, catching herself with the railing as she stumbled before lunging herself at Fred's torso for a second time that day. The two falling to the ground, tears were falling in torrents down Harper's face. Fred chuckled, holding his friend tightly.
"I missed you too, Harps," Fred laughed, tears falling down his own face.
****
Harper stared at the forest for what felt like ages, she ignored the two shadows that stood on either side of her, two steps behind. She'd spent the day finalizing the Nonemacker estate with Sybill, giving the Seer her childhood home.
the burrow or the joke shop would be enough for me.
Harper protested, emphasizing that her aunt was no longer bound to the school. At this reasoning, Sybill could no longer argue, but compromised on Harper taking her inheritance and the family vault along with any and all furnishings for her own home when she ever got one.
The memorial for the fallen had ended an hour ago, many of the people who attended had left or were still mingling in smaller groups, some offered to begin the cleaning and restoration of the school. Harper had noted the two blank spaces provided on the plaque toward the bottom, maybe to honor the people lost before the battle. Harper imagined them placed there for her parents, at least she knew Asher had been given a burial with the others.
A twinge in her heart caused Harper to start walking toward the forest.
Her shadows staying a few paces behind her, the trees loomed overhead with each nearing step. Harper felt ice in her veins, trembling as she moved forward.
Taking George's wand out of her boot, it gave a warm thrum of magic throughout her forearm, Harper entered the first stretch of trees.
She's not going to be here
What if she is?!
She was murdered far from here
I have to at least check
I have to know
"What do you think you're doing?" Charlie asked making her jump a mile in her skin, he tilted his head to the side. Leaning against a nearby tree, folding his arms, Harper trained her eyes forward—she had to keep moving forward. "You really are as bold as the twins told me...running off on your own again into the forest!"
Ignoring him, she took a few more steps.
"Come on before they rip you outta here!"
"Go away, Charlie," Harper frowned, she turned around, Fred and George were arguing in the sunlight, Angelina trying to play referee.
"She's not in here," Charlie motioned his head to the darkening trees, "checked myself with dad."
"I have to know."
Harper glanced at the twins who kept their distance, both watching them with concerned expressions. Angelina gave a sympathetic smile with a tilt of her head.
Harper, what's going on?
She flinched in response, building the walls as thick and high as possible.
"Do they know?" Charlie asked lowering his voice, he took a step closer to Harper, she gave a small shake in response.
"I don't know what you mean," she snapped, attempting to hurry pass.
Charlie reached out for her arm, pushing her back toward the edge of the forest. His expression was a mixture of exhaustion, sleep deprivation, sympathy, the tiniest hint of pity was there in his eyes.
"Harpsichord!" George's voice called behind them.
"I didn't get to say goodbye, I didn't get to say I loved them, I didn't get to apologize for running outta school—I didn't—I didn't...I just need to check, Charlie....don't you understand?" Her final words cracked in a desperate whispered plea, she didn't want to tell George what her current mental state was. Didn't dare breathe a word of it into existence, speaking it into reality would only cause more problems.
She'd finally hit her breaking point, her mental walls crumbled to the ground, she could feel everything around them as she snapped. Charlie's grip only tightened on her arm.
"Harper, I do. I truly do," Charlie said sympathetically, "but walking around in here....you're only going to hurt yourself thinking like this."
"They weren't ever found...who's...who's to say what happened to her?" Harper rasped.
Your mother was as useless as you were, but the screams....like mother like daughter.
"Your father being here while your mother wasn't is them being found, Harper," Charlie rationalized for her. "You're only going to drive yourself mad."
"I have to check!" She was at the edge of the cliff, ready to leap off, Charlie's grip tightened.
"Harper, how about we get Georgie over here? Let's just calm down and talk," Charlie offered soothingly.
"Please, please don't tell George what I was doing. Please," Harper broke down in tears. Any harshness in Charlie's featured instantly melted as Harper began to cry harder.
Harper went limp in his hand, falling to her knees, her crying blocking out all other noise. She hadn't wanted to process this moment, wanting to live in denial as long as possible. However that wasn't how the universe worked, how fate worked. The very real fact that her parents were murdered by Voldemort's lot stared directly back at her.
She was so tangled in her own emotions she didn't feel George's hands on her back.
"I'm sorry."
George lifted Harper from her hunched position to her feet, pulling her into a tight hug, a hand threading through her hair, holding her protectively to him.
"Harpsichord, shhh. I love you. It's alright, everything is fine. I love you," George was whispering into her hair she cried loudly.
"You know, our names would be up on that plaque if it weren't for you, Harps," Fred soothed somewhere behind her, his hand patting her head lightly. "I'm entirely grateful to you for that, all of us are....and you know what I think? I think your parents would be extremely proud."
"Your dad would be incredibly proud of the way you've handled yourself, Harpsichord," George soothed.
Harper nodded, nuzzling her face into the hollow of George's neck. George was saying something to Fred and Charlie, Harper not paying attention to it. Her heart felt as if it were ripped apart, finally allowing herself a second to mourn the very real truth that her parents were taken away from her for the first time in over a year.
"I didn't get to tell them I'm sorry," she whispered, nuzzling his jawbone with her nose, George's skin absorbing her tears.
George's arms tightened around her further, the words echoing in her chest, she was watching Fred and Angelina talking with Charlie when a slow idea began forming for a product that could help dozens.
"I wanna go home," Harper breathed, Angelina caught her eye and gave a small wave, nervously overseeing her friend spiral from a distance.
"Where to, love?" George murmured against her hair, giving them a slow sway.
"Could we stay at the Burrow? Until the shop and flat are settled?" Harper leaned away in time to catch George's wide grin on his face that quickly turned into a humbled smile.
"I'm sure that can be arranged, but I have a better idea," George smirked.
"We'll catch up with you lot later!" George told Fred and Angelina who looked skeptical but said nothing. Charlie watched with a worried expression, maybe the rumor of George's recklessness when it came to Harper's care reached the older Weasley. George pulled Harper up the slope, toward the castle and inside, going to the first available shortcut that would put them near the seventh floor if they're lucky.
"George....I really don't think we should—"
"—Nonsense," George shook his head.
Harper pursed her lips, following behind George as they carefully made their way up the small passage. The seventh floor was eerily quiet like the rest of the castle that still needed severe construction. Harper's legs locked up as they came across the juncture where the wall collapsed, the stones that buried her and Fred still there.
"George...." Harper breathed, pointing down the corridor, George was walking back and forth in a distinct pattern, muttering under his breath.
"Two seconds, beautiful."
"N-n-no, George. Now," her stuttering made him stop short and rush to her side, following her look, he gasp.
"Close your eyes, Harper. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking...erm...two more seconds, I promise."
Holding her eyes shut tight, she took a deep breath, she hadn't seen the rubble she'd emerged from. Looking at it now set off a flurry of alarms in her mind, the idea of the stones soaring toward her and burying her permanently made sweat appear on her neck.
How did we survive that?!
George's hands hurriedly took her shoulders and led her away, she listened to him shutting a door, pulling her toward probably the center of the room and guiding her onto something plush and soft. Harper opened one eye to a small room, they were seated on a large plush couch with an oak table in front of them, in the corner sat a dining set for two with empty glasses and plates. It was bare of decorations aside from a large bay window behind them. Harper noted on the far facing wall a billow of smoke was left over, it traveled from the floor to the ceiling, a long black shadow.
There had been a fire in this room
"Was this the hideaway?"
"A version of it," George nodded, "I'm impressed it still could make something for us."
"Maybe we shouldn't be—"
"—Harper Nonemacker," George sat up, shifting to face her, lifting her chin to look at him. "We've spent the better part of a year fighting to stay alive, you're finally allowing yourself to come to terms with the very real fact that you've lost your family. If there was ever a time to break a rule, do something mischievous, it's this moment. If you're that concerned, I bet that another way out of here will be given to us when we're ready to go, and if not?" He shrugged, "no one deserves to break a few rules right now more than you do, Harper. Understand?"
She nodded slightly, each tear that leaked through her lashes were caught by George's thumbs.
"We don't even go here anymore....wouldn't this be considered trespassing?"
"And yet the room let us in," George countered.
Harper was unable to retort, George gently pressed his lips to hers, causing anymore debating to leave her mind entirely.
"Just stay here in this moment with me for a second, you might actually enjoy it," murmuring against her lips when he pulled away.
Smiling, she rested her cheek against his shoulder, taking his right hand to interlace their fingers, bringing his hand to her lips. Soft music filled the space from the record player in the back corner, Harper closed her eyes and breathed deeply. George rested his cheek against her hair, occasionally planting a kiss into her satin locks, slowly pulling them back to lay the length of the couch, Harper pressed firmly to his side.
"This is really nice," George whispered after several minutes, his eyes had a glazed look in them when he looked to her. "Finally being alone like this."
"Sorta feels like home," Harper nodded with a smile, curling deeper into her pocket between the couch and George's side.
She didn't have to look at him to see the giant smile that was plastered on George's face at the words.
"I promise that no matter what, you'll have the perfect home to come back to when we have the shop setup."
The heartache from losing her family was slowly replaced with a warmth that slowly bubbled from her chest to her extremities. Coming to terms with losing her parents would be hard, but it was George's determination to give her the happiest life possible that lessened the loss she was finally allowing herself to feel.
"Thank you," her voice wobbled.
She felt George's laugh, his hand going to her cheek to wipe away the stray tears that fell from her eyes. George lifted her chin gently, his thumb trailing her jawbone, the amber orbs smoldering in silent permission to move closer. Pressing her lips to his, George's hands threaded through her hair, pulling her closer to him.
"The pleasure is all mine, gorgeous," laughing at him, George pulled Harper's lips back to his, smiling as she continued to giggle.