"War doesn't determine who's right or wrong. It determines who's left."
•
AUDENTIS FORTUNA IUVAT.
Audentis Fortuna Iuvat.
Novissima Inimica Morte Victa.
These words floated out of the pitch dark in my nightmare this time, as I stumbled in the pitch black trying to find the source of the voice.
Fortune favours the Brave.
The last enemy that shall be destroyed is Death.
I don't know how I know what they meant. I just did, and it bothered me that I did. While the second statement was what was written in James and Lily Potter's graves, the first statement rang within my heart and rattled my spirit despite me having never heard it. While the first statement was spoken by a man with a smooth, sly, dangerously sweet voice, the second sentence was spoken by a woman, fierce and strong. I was determined to find out this time who it was but-
"Get up!"
"Get away, Hermione!"
"It's Harry's birthday!"
"No, it's not."
"It is," she laughed. I opened my eyes begrudgingly and noticed Hermione, bright and away, her bushy hair all around, her honey-colored eyes sparkling, and she smelled faintly like the autumn breeze. I sighed. I sat up and threw my feet off the bed, immediately standing and stretching.
"Where is he?"
"Still asleep, I presume," she groaned. "I was just packing."
"Oh," I said, suddenly awake, and the dawning of them leaving looming like a dark black cloud over my head. They're leaving. I got out of the room quickly and went into the shower before the hot water finished. With this many people in the Burrow, privacy was hard to come by. Although I wasn't disappointed when I saw a bed-haired Draco half asleep in the bathroom, washing his face. He looked at me, his eyes puffy from sleep and blanket lines on his arms.
"Good sleep?" I asked. He came hear me and hugged me, nuzzling his face into my once-again-red hair. I squished him back.
"MmHmm," he muttered, and I thought, he's really made of kittens and cotton candy. A distinct image went last my mind of him Imperiusing Yaxley to kill Dolohov and the idea that my boyfriend was anything delicate popped out of my mind like a bursting bubble. I flicked my wand and the door shut magically.
"Show me your scars," I stated as he pulled away from the hug. He looked at me and without a word, lifted his shirt over his head. And staring at me, blatantly accusing me of my sin to forget, were long white lines across his chest, like the branches of a barren tree in winter. His skin was pale, so pale that if it wasn't for his flush, he'd have appeared a ghost. In the moment I realized how grey-scaled Draco was. Mostly, his eyes were light grey, unmoving and headstrong. When he was angry, they'd dissolve into a stronger, darker molten steel, when he fought the Death Eaters. They'd be a dark grey when he was focused or attentive, furiously taking notes in class at an inhuman speed. And when he was extremely joyous, laughing like the seventeen year old boy he was, there'd be unmistakable specks of blue, like cool glaciers, in his constant grey eyes.
"Show me yours," he said. And without a word, I discarded my shirt. What was on his chest was now on my back. Long, white ugly slashes reminding me of my foolishly to not having moved quickly. They're battle scars, Draco had said as he changed the dressing one day. They show how strong you are, he has said, kissing my shoulders. They remind me of what was thrust upon me, I had thought. He lightly caressed the scars that will never go, that I will always carry around, that will always show. That will always remind me of how I am the girl from the second prophecy, how I was literally destined to protect Harry, how I was the key to stopping everything.
"They're hideous," I said.
"They are," he replied. I raised an eyebrow. "It's true. They are hideous. I have them too."
"They look good on you," I smirked. "Very rugged, macho, you know?"
He laughed. "Well, as you say. I'm going to go out before Molly notices and tells us off."
After he left, I bathed, and he came in again to change the dressings on my back. It wasn't necessary but he kept saying, "Madam Pomfrey dressed my wound for two weeks to avoid infection, contamination of pupplefirm virus and also unexpected opening of the wound. Don't resist me."
"Why do you look so happy about?" I asked as he hummed lightly placing the Dittany and bandages on my wound. His eyes were sparkling strangely.
"Oh, it's nothing-well Tonks's just written to me that Hagrid informes her there were new Unicorn foals in the Forbidden Forest," he said cheerily.
"So?" I didn't get it.
"So, when the mothers are in labor, they shed most of their hair. Hagrid's bringing them over tonight for Potter's birthday," he said, his eyes showing that strange speck of blue mirth. "I was just getting worried I'd run out of Unicorn-Hair infused bandages, I was planning to pass them to Granger when they leave for the last Horcrux you see-"
I kissed him, half a bandage dangling from a slab of Dittany on my bad. I couldn't help it. My hands bunched up his shirt and pulled him down as I kissed him with all the love I had. He was beautiful when he was passionate, ambitious and caring. I pulled away after a second. He looked flustered, and a little out of breath, before his signature smirk reappeared and his hands entangled in my hair, tugging lightly, as he kissed me hard on the mouth. "It's so hard to resist you," he said against my skin.
"We can always Floo back to Grimmauld Place, you know," I moaned as he kissed my neck, leaving little bites.
"With what excuse?"
"That we miss Sirius?"
"Oh, please," he stated in his third-year sneer. "Sirius comes here everyday. There's nothing to miss."
"Well, I guess then, you'll have to keep resisting me," I smirked, pinching his cheek. He made a face. I turned back and said, "Finish it then."
He begrudgingly finished dressing up my wound, kissing my shoulder one last time before kicking me out and stepping into the shower. I made my way to the kitchen where Harry was now standing with Hermione, looking at the assortment of gifts everyone had got him.
"Here," I said, handing him a flower I picked from the garden. He looked at it.
"Really?"
"I don't believe in birthdays, Harry, you know that," I smiled. "Besides, I can't give my real gift to you yet."
He raised an eyebrow. I could see his mind whirring, trying to figure what I could possibly give him that's so secretive.
"I'll pack these for you," Hermione said, and with a horrible falling darkness, I realized they would be leaving soon. Very soon. "I'm nearly done. I'm just waiting for the rest of your underpants to come.out if the wash, Ron-"
Ron's splitter was interrupted by Ginny approaching the first floor landing.
"Harry, will you come in here a moment?"
I smiled softly at her, sending all my wishes and blessings I could with just a glance. I faintly touched Harry's arm, and his emerald eyes turned to me. "Happy birthday," I said, before leaving the kitchen with Ron and Hermione.
"What is he doing-"
"It's none of your business, Ron!" Hermione snapped, pushing gifts into her extendable bag.
"It is my business! It's my sister," he said, his face turning as red as his hair.
"I know he called it off with her, Ron," I said. "But it doesn't mean they don't care about her."
"Merlin's balls!" he snapped. "I'm going up there."
I grabbed his shirt, knowing full well what was happening upstairs. "I'll hex you if you go, Ron!" I snarled. He looked taken aback for a full minute before squaring himself and looking at me.
"How are you not bothered by this," he asked roughly. "Your brother broke my sister's heart!"
"He didn't want to Ron, but if you'd rather that Voldemort is given a person-your sister-to manipulate Harry, by all means, I'll ask them to get back together," I snapped. His blue eyes wavered slightly. "But Harry won't do that because my brother is a noble and selfless prat, and he'd rather die than put Ginny in harm's way."
Ron seethed at me for a second before sighed loudly. "Tell me," he said quietly. "Are we going to make it through the War?"
"Yes," I said without batting an eye. "We will make it, and there will be no noseless Dark Wizard holding us away from what he care about."
I saw Draco come out of the shower dressed in an oversight Weasley-esque shirt and trousers, hair still damp from the bath. He trudged into the kitchen and soundlessly began making tea next to Mrs Weasley, talking to her in hushed voices.
When Harry came back down a few moments later, he looked flushed, his hair messier than usual, and his glasses crooked on his nose. What he had done with Ginny, without Ron interrupting, I didn't know, but I felt a weird feeling creep in my stomach as he spoke to Ron in the garden-
"You ditched her. What are you doing now, messing her around?"
"I'm not messing her around," said Harry, as Hermione caught up with them. "Ron -"
But Ron held up a hand to silence her. "She was really cut up when you ended it -"
"So was I. You know why I stopped it, and it wasn't because I wanted to."
"Yeah, but you go snogging her now and she's just going to get her hopes up again -"
"She's not an idiot, she knows it can't happen, she's not expecting us to - to end up married, or -"
-and I wondered if this is what Harry felt when I came out of the Room of Requirements with my tie in Draco's pocket. I shuddered, and walked away from the Trio, towards the kitchen, helping Mrs Weasley with Harry's birthday party.
-
It was a long and hard work, but it was finally done. Charlie distracted everyone with his new haircut. The dinner would have stretched the Burrow's kitchen to breaking point even before the arrival of Sirius, Remus, Tonks, and Hagrid; several tables were placed end to end in the garden. Fred and George bewitched a number of purple lanterns, all emblazoned with a large number 17, to hang in midair over the guests. Hermione made purple and gold streamers erupt from the end of her wand and drape themselves artistically over the trees and bushes. "Nice," said Ron, and I openly sniggered at the use of his dialogue from Twelve Fail-Safe ways to Charm Witches. I noticed Harry catching Ginny's eyes with a grin before hurriedly looking away.
I was dressed in a purple dress, blending in with the theme of the party. It reached my knees and covered the scars on my back with it's high collars. I wasn't in the mood to dress up for Harry's birthday, but I managed to look pretty and tame my hair into a bun. Draco made flowes- lilacs, particularly- entangle around them. He was dressed in a suit- grey and perfectly tailored to fit him beautifully. He walked ahead to the table to give me space.
"Out of the way, out of the way!" sang Mrs. Weasley, coming through the gate with the giant, beach-ball-sized Snitch floating in front of her. Seconds later, I noticed Harry realized that it was his birthday cake, which Mrs. Weasley was suspending with her wand, rather than risk carrying it over the uneven ground.
When the cake had finally landed in the middle of the table, Harry said, "That looks amazing, Mrs. Weasley."
"Oh, Skylar made it, dear. You just direct your compliments to her," she said fondly, as I tried hard blending with the streamers on the trees.
Harry looked at me a little wide-eyed and said, "How on Earth did you make this?"
"I like cooking in case you haven't noticed," I rolled my eyes.
By seven o'clock all the guests had arrived, led into the house by Fred and George, who had waited for them at the end of the lane. Hagrid had honored the occasion by wearing his best, and horrible, hairy brown suit. Although Remus smiled as he shook Harry's hand, I thought he looked rather unhappy. It was all very odd; Tonks, beside him, looked simply radiant. I knew what it was about. I smiled weakly at him and he looked away.
After basic Happy Birthdays were exchanged, and gifts were given, and jokes were cracked, I saw Hagrid hurriedly beckoning Draco who ran over to him like it was Christmas. Hagrid took out what looked like a silver jewelry box, and handed it to him. "Five hundred grams of Unicorn-Hair," he said to Draco quietly, who immediately charmed it shut and put it in his extendable bag. "Use it wisely."
"Of course, Hagrid."
Hagrid moved away and made his way to Charlie and started talking about Norbert-now called Norberta. I hovered in the corners for some time until the Weasel Patronus appeared.
"Minister of Magic coming with me."
I sighed, straightening my dress and ushering Draco inside and up the house before the man came and knew about his whereabouts. Draco obliged without a word, and I was thankful that he did. When I came back down, Remus and Tonks had left, all thanks to the great Anti-werewolf legislation of the Ministry. I saw Sirius stand defiantly at the edge of the table.
A second later, Mr. Weasley had appeared out of thin air at the gate, accompanied by Rufus Scrimgeour, instantly recognizable by his mane of grizzled hair. The two newcomers marched across the yard toward the garden and the lantern-lit table, where everybody sat in silence, watching them draw closer. As Scrimgeour came within range of the lantern light, I saw that he looked much older than the last time we had met, scraggy and grim. "Sorry to intrude," said Scrimgeour, as he limped to a halt before the table. "Especially as I can see that I am gate-crashing a party."
His eyes lingered for a moment on the giant Snitch cake. "Many happy returns."
"Thanks," said Harry.
"I require a private word with you," Scrimgeour went on. "Also with Mr. Ronald Weasley, and Miss Hermione Granger."
"Us?" said Ron, sounding surprised. "Why us?"
"I shall tell you that when we are somewhere more private," said Scrimgeour. "Is there such a place?" he demanded of Mr. Weasley.
"Yes, of course," said Mr. Weasley, who looked nervous. "The, er, sitting room, why don't you use that?"
"You can lead the way," Scrimgeour said to Ron. "There will be no need for you to accompany us, Arthur."
Unwittingly, I lurched forward, and Scrimgeour looked at me, raising an untamed eyebrow. I backed away, unwilling to cause a scene. . .yet.
When they went in, I stood next to Sirius, gritting my teeth. Minutes felt like hours as I played in my head the scene that was going on inside.
"What d'you think it's about?" Sirius asked.
"Dumbledore's Will," I said instantly. "He left them some of his possessions."
"Merlin-"
"And the Ministry kept it, to test it for Dark Magic or hidden things, all this time," I said, feeling anger burn behind my eyes. "Instead of reporting Draco's supposed Death, or the fact that we were chased three countries by Death Eaters, the Minister was locked up in his office trying to decode Tales of Beedle the Bard."
"Why give it now then?" Sirius said, his anger mirroring mine.
"The Decree for Justifiable Confiscation gives the Ministry the power to confiscate the contents of a will. Thay law was created to stop wizards passing on Dark artifacts, and the Ministry is supposed to have powerful evidence that the deceased's possessions are illegal before seizing them," I rolled my eyes. "But they cannot keep the confiscated objects for more than thirty-one days. Hence, he has no choice but to give it back now."
Sirius blinked at me. "Are you trying to be a Legislator?"
"No," I chuckled lightly. "I devoured books after books before Harry's hearing, remember?"
Quiet fell upon us all again, until, almost ten long minutes later, I heard Scrimgeour shout, "You go too far!"
My feet moved before I could think of any reasonable reacting. Ignoring Mr Weasley, I marched to the door step and barged into the sitting room.
"Get away from him," I growled as I saw the singing a hole in Harry's shirt. "I can think of seven different breaches of law right this second to bring your name to the ground, Minister."
Scrimgeour took a couple of steps back from Harry, glancing at the hole he had made in Harry's T-shirt. He seemed to regret his loss of temper. "It - it was nothing," he growled. "I regret your attitude," he added. "You seem to think that the Ministry does not desire what you- what Dumbledore- desired. We ought to be working together."
"I don't like your methods, Minister," said Harry. "Remember?" For the second time, he raised his right fist, and pulled my left one too, and displayed to Scrimgeour the scars that still showed white on the back of our hands, spelling: I must not tell lies.
"And if I were to," I said quietly. "I would tighten my reigns on the Ministry before it fell out of my hands."
Scrimgeour's expression hardened. He turned away without another word and limped from the room. Mrs. Weasley hurried after him; I heard her stop at the back door. After a minute or so she called, "He's gone!"
--
When I went to Harry and Ron's room after dinner, I saw Harry fiddling with the Snitch. Ron had left with Hermione somewhere. He looked at me.
"I open at the close," he said. "You know what it means, don't you?"
"Yes, I do," I said. It will open when you die, I didn't say. "You'll know soon."
"Why can't you just tell me?"
"You're not ready for that information," I said, almost choking. "Give me the Snitch."
He raised an eyebrow before wordlessly handing me the Snitch. I held it in my left palm. "I'm going to give you your birthday gift now, Harry," I said quietly. "You must not lose it, at any cost."
"What are you giving me?" He looked at me a little warily, his green eyes concerned as I placed the Snitch on the bed and unclasped my locket. With a tap of my wand, the Resurrection Stone unhinged and fell on my hand. I grasped it tightly, closing my eyes, thinking of my parents, thinking of how I would never get to meet them again. I opened my eyes, and two shimmering figures appeared behind Harry.
"I want you to meet my parents, Harry," I said quietly. He looked behind, and Meredith Potter smiled at her nephew. He gasped, scrambling to his feet, facing her. He acknowledged the man next to her, and I weakly smiled.
"Harry," my mother spoke quietly, her eyes laden with guilt and remorse. "I am sorry."
Harry turned and looked at me for a fleeting second with a terrible shock, before turning back.
"It was because of me that your parents died, Harry," she said, moving closer to my father. He wrapped an arm around her to prevent her from breaking down. "I never wanted James to die."
"Meredith," Harry whispered. For a second I thought he'd shout at her for choosing the wrong side, for being a bad sister, for taking a childhood away from him. But what he said was beyond my imagination. "It's okay."
My mother looked just as shocked as me, for a second, we both looked one and the same.
"You're not a bad person," Harry continued. "I'm old enough to understand that my father wasn't a saint either," he chuckled lightly. "You too were thrust into a life you didn't wish for. You too found a family somewhere else, like me. I do not blame you."
The quiet that fell upon us was deafening. I could hear the gnomes rustling in the bushes and the cicadas whirring in the night life. I caught her eye and she looked at Harry. "You are much like you mother, Harry," she smiled brightly, almost blinding the room. "Forgiving, kind and humble. But I want you to know," she said firmly. "I am to blame. I chose the wrong side simply out if spite and a chance to showcase my powers. How you've turned out, is great, and I deeply cherish what you have with my daughter. And had your parents and us been alive, I promise you, the love you'd have received from your Aunt Meredith, would've been unparalleled."
My father broke from the scene and walked towards me. I felt myself shaking as his unfeeling hand touched my shoulder. I would never see them again. I would never see my parents again. After so many years of yearning to meet them, I was finally letting them go.
"You're brave, my sweet," he said, his bright blue eyes looking into mine. His gaze was forlorn yet joyful, like he was proud of me. "You're everything I wish I was, Skylar."
I felt myself crying, little diamond drops of tears falling off my eyes, down my cheekbones. He smiled. "A Firegold is brave," he said. "And Fortune favors the Brave."
I looked at him, suddenly, feeling a chink in my armor close in on itself, leaving no gaping holes, no weak spots, and with a fleeting moment if realization, I understood my dream was infact the Firegold family motto: Audentis Fortuna Iuvat.
I let go of the Stone, and my parents came around me. One last glance, I thought, as I looked at them smiling at me and Harry. My father whispered, "Tempulum Aperio."
I picked my wand, wiping the tears that clouded my vision, and pointed it at the Snitch. "Tempulum Aperio," I said. The small Golden Snitch folded out, layer upon layes of it turned and twisting like a small compass. I held the Resurrection Stone between my fingers and looked at my parents, already dissolving into mists of ghosts. They smiled at me. I dropped the Stone inside the Snitch and they were gone.
Audentis Fortuna Iuvat.
Novissima Inimica Morte Victa.