Six years ago (coughs), I had this idea. I was walking back from the supermarket, bags heavy with yummy goods, when I imagined what it would've been like if Harry had been hit by a stray curse during the Battle of Hogwarts. I always think about stuff like that, so it was normal for me. I could literally see him stumble through destroyed hallways, desperately wanting to see something happy before leaving for good. And there it was - the scene was jammed into my brain and wouldn't let me live my life in peace until I wrote it down.

A few days later (after having translated it into English), on the 21st of April 2014, I uploaded the first chapter of Visitation.

It took me six years to get to this point (and to be completely honest, I've waited for two days just to upload it today bc I'm lame and think it's hilarious), and I cannot say how sorry I am for that delay (not the two days, but the six years).

All I can say is - thank you to all of you who have stayed put and have had patience. I've had a few things to deal with during the last couple of years that had forced this story into another, less important part of my brain, but I have sworn to myself that, once everything was fine again, I would continue writing it.

Because I loved the idea of this story and I loved writing it.

And now, six years later, Visitation is completed.

I hope you have enjoyed this journey and I will see you all in the comment section of my next story.

Until then - enjoy reading the last chapter of Visitation. See ya! :D

Family

"Now, having altered the things that have changed since the 16th century, the ritual should work as described. Since we have already used this ritual and are now trying to remidy what was screwed up, Lily did her magic and wrote a counter-ritual. It is surprisingly simple to follow, as we will leave out all of the creepy stuff with pieces of animals and such and simply focus on the blood magic itself.

Once we have said the spell and done everything correctly, James and Lily should vanish and be pulled back to Godric's Hollow by their Death Bond."

Harry sighed deeply. He was standing in the dimly lit bathroom downstairs and was washing his hands. They had just had the best lasagna he had ever tasted and that meant a whole lot because he had been witness to Molly Weasley's cooking. It was, however, something entirely different to have your own mother cook a meal for you, especially if said meal was a secret family recipe.

He had always assumed that whenever Ron had complained about the food in The Three Broomsticks or wherever they had gone from time to time, it had been because Mrs Weasley's meals always tasted good, but now he got it. Eating something your mother had cooked made it so much more special and delicious. The best cook in the whole world truly was a mother.

He took the soft towel from its hook and slowly dried his hands. They were trembling slightly. He hadn't told anyone but ever since the Pepper-Up Potion had lost its effect the trembling hadn't stopped. It was impossible that something had been wrong with the potion; it was more likely that his time was running short. His magic couldn't work under the stress anymore and it was showing even when his parents weren't using magic. It was just like his mum had feared – and what he had feared if he was honest with himself.

He didn't really care all that much about his health. He had never really learned to do that as a child since everyone around him had disregarded both his physical as well as mental health. He had always just done what needed to be done without thinking twice about the consequences it might have on him – this wasn't much different.

But now, failing to force his hands to relax and stop moving, even he had to admit that his parents needed to leave him. He didn't want them to; actually he was more than a bit scared for them to leave. He wasn't worried about the ritual itself – he trusted the two women with his life – but he was scared what them leaving might to do him. They would succeed, they would break the bond that connected them to his magic and then, just like Hermione had said, they would disappear and leave him again.

They had had a few talks throughout their stay, so he knew they didn't want to leave, they had never wanted to leave and all they wanted for him was to live a happy and fulfilled life. Once it was his time to die, they would see each other again and have all eternity together. He knew they loved him, he could feel it deep in his heart, and that was the reason why he was so scared of the consequences.

He had come to know honest and unconditional love – a love that he could only receive from his family. Of course, Hermione was his family, but this was still different. Not having that, losing that one, normal part of him again might rip a hole into him that might forever stay open and bleeding.

Harry raised his head and gazed into his reflection in the mirror. He was very pale, his cheeks looked sunken in and he had the general air of a sick person.

He sighed and turned away. There was no use to dwell on this now. They would go through with the ritual in the morning after breakfast and then everything would be back to normal...

How he hated the word normal.

He took a deep breath and pushed all of the air forcibly out of his lungs. He should get back and spend every second with his parents. It would be a while before he would see them again.

Harry hurried down the hallway and scampered into the lounge where his three favourite people were sitting in front of the fireplace, digesting the delicious food.

"I think you've killed me, Evans," James groaned dramatically and slit further down into the couch. His long legs were outstretched in front of him, his bum barely touching the cushions. "You've literally done me in serving me that incredible lasagna."

Hermione started laughing as Lily rolled her eyes and slapped her husbands arm. "I did no such thing and thank you for that hidden complement, I love you too, Potter."

"Harry!" Hermione grinned as she jumped up and hurried over to him. A horrified, "How is she still moving so fast," from James was shut up by another slapping sound. "Hey, what is it?"

Harry blinked as the brunette wiped something wet off his cheek. He hummed contently and closed his eyes as he leaned into her touch.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes," Harry smiled and looked into her beautiful light brown eyes that were shining with worry for him. In that moment, he fell in love with her a bit more. "Yes, everything's alright. I promise," he quickly added as Hermione's eyes narrowed slightly, clearly not believing him.

Before he could say anything else, he was interrupted by his dad, who, having sat up properly, waved them over to the fire. "Come on over here, lovebirds. I'm in the mood for some marshmallows and I can't summon them without having my son lose consciousness."

Lily, having watched their exchange with a soft smile on her face, turned around and looked at her husband, eyebrows rising on her smooth forehead. "I thought I've already killed you by letting you eat too much and now you want to eat even more?"

James shrugged and looked at his son for support.

Harry, truely enjoying playing the role of the son, sent his best puppy-dog face towards his mother. "Marshmallows are the best evening snack when the fire is going."

Lily looked from Harry to James, who was doing his best to immitate his son's facial expression, and back to Harry. She shook her head dejectedly, admitting defeat. "You're lucky I'm not immune to your puppy face, Harry, because otherwise I would hand both of you another serving of lasagna and watch you struggle."

*~*HP*~*

The evening was amazing. They roasted marshmallows, listened to James animately explaining successful and unsuccessful pranks in so much detail Harry felt as if he had been there himself. Lily talked about her friends at school, the times the Marauders got caught by Filch, much to the chagrin of her husband, and both of the elder Potters asked Harry of his experiences at Hogwarts. Although Lily had been there throughout the whole durance, they wanted to hear Harry explain it from his point of view.

James got a kick out of his depiction of the first task during his fourth year – "And you just tried to summon a magical object that was immune to spells and was stored hundreds of meters away although you have only practised summoning uncharmed things that were in the same room? That's what I call guts!" – much to the disappointment of the two women in the room. They had been talking for hours on end, completely forgetting the time. Hermione's yawn had them look at the old grandfather clock in the corner simultaneously.

"Three in the morning. Oh goodness gracious," Lily exclaimed and smiled at Hermione, who was struggling to keep her eyes open. "I'm so sorry, dear."

"No, it's alright. I was really enjoying the evening," Hermione reassured her and slowly got up. "But I think I'll go to bed now anyways. We'll need all the energy we can get for tomorrow. Harry, you should probably also go to sleep."

Nodding dejectedly, Harry stretched and got to his feet.

"Oh, I nearly forgot!"

The Potters watched, confused, as Hermione stumbled into the opposite corner to the set of drawers that still held the rituals book from earlier that day. When she turned around, a camera in her hand, her face didn't show any tiredness anymore.

"I thought it would be a nice idea to take a picture of you three together. You know, for the future."

Harry could have snogged her senseless right then and there. Why hadn't he thought of that? He had been so preoccupied with his worries that he had been distracted from what had been right there. He wanted his parents to stay. He wanted this feeling to stay – this feeling of having a real family, people who loved him for who he was. He knew he couldn't have it in the obvious way. They needed to leave, he knew and accepted that. Yet he hadn't seen the second best thing – a photograph of a moment in which he felt like a regular boy, mother and father at his sides.

He beamed into the camera as Hermione ushered them to stand next to the fireplace. Lily's hand trailed around his back and came to rest on his left side of the waist. James threw his arm around his shoulders. Both were gently squeezing him, telling him that they were there, that they knew how he felt, and that they understood. They didn't need words to convey that that was the exact same way they felt at that moment.

Harry turned to his father, seeing the sparkle in his hazel eyes and the love reflecting in them. His throat closed up, but his smile never faltered as James reached up and tousled his son's hair. He didn't even care how messy it looked after that. All he could care about was how his heart swell with the warmth and the love he felt at that moment. A laugh escaped both him and James as Lily turned slightly and started to tug at the odd strand sticking out in a ninety degree angle from his head.

The scene felt so normal that, for a short moment, the Potters forgot what had happened in the past and what would happen the next day. They simply lived in that moment, enjoying being a family.

Lily kissed Harry's cheek and grinned as the wizard blushed. This was how they would remember each other.

*~*HP*~*

The next morning came with a vengeance. The storm had only gotten worse, now having arrived in central London. It rattled aggressively at the windows, making them shake violently.

The four people sitting around the table in the kitchen didn't notice as the lovely summer's day turned into what looked to become a downpour in just a few hours' time. They were all staring at their food, picking at it and pushing it around their plates. Hermione was the only one who had managed to eat a small portion of her scrambled eggs before she, as well, gave up.

She pushed her plate away quite forcefully, heaving an annoyed sigh.

Three pairs of eyes gazed towards her. The young witch shrugged, stood up and left the room.

After a few seconds of nobody moving to follow her, Lily pushed back her chair and stood up. "I'll go talk to her," she mumbled softly and followed the girl up the stairs and into the lounge.

The items they would need for the ritual were all resting on the coffee table, waiting until they decided that the time had come. Three candles symbolising three people bound to each other, chalk to draw the pentagram and a needle to draw the blood that held the intertwined energies.

Her eyes travelled over the objects to the far end of the room. Hermione stood at the window overlooking the street. A family was hurrying down the road, the mother tried her best to usher her children home before the first raindrop fell.

"Is it bad that I don't want you to leave?"

Lily turned to the girl, whose eyes were fixed to somewhere in the distance.

"Is it really that bad that I want Harry to be happy?" she sniffed and a lone tear dripped out of her eye. She wiped it away, frustrated with herself. "He's been through so much pain and heartache and as soon as he's got you back he will lose you again. That's not fair and I'm afraid of what it might do to him."

"He won't be alone with this," Lily walked over to the young witch and looked outside as well. The first few raindrops had started to fall. "He will have you."

"But what if that's not enough?" Hermione's voice trembled as she turned and looked at her boyfriend's dead mother. Her chin quivered as she forced herself to speak the next words. "What if I'm not enough?"

"Oh, Hermione," Lily pulled her into a loving embrace and held her as she let go of all her fears. "You know him. You know what he is like and you know that he won't send you away just because we won't be here anymore."

Hermione sniffled, as she buried her face in the crook of Lily's neck. She knew she was behaving irrationally and hearing Lily say those things, she realised how stupid she sounded. That knowledge didn't help quench her insecurities, though.

"He will be hurting," she whimpered. "He won't know what to do with himself."

"Then it will be your job to make sure that he won't forget who he is. You have to make sure that he'll stay in the present, here with you, and not dwell on what could have been. Hermione," Lily gently pulled out of the embrace and held the girl at arms' length, "all of this should never have happened. You know that, James and I know that and Harry knows that as well. We've died years ago. Harry had to go through so much without having us at his side, but you know who he's always had at his side? You!"

The redhead smiled and watched Hermione's eyes clear up. Her tears stopped falling as she looked back at Lily, not saying anything. Lily could see that she needed the reassurance and she would give it to her.

"He's always had you to count on. You've always been there and have you ever questioned it? Have you ever thought about maybe not being enough for him?" she raised her eyebrows, challenging the young brunette. She knew fully well that she was right and Hermione knew that too.

"No."

"And have you ever felt like Harry might send you away? Have you ever had the impression that he might not want you near him?"

An embarrassed smile tugged at Hermione's lips. "No."

"My son loves you, Hermione. Oh, I know he does," she laughed as she pushed away a strand of brown hair that had fallen into the girl's flushed face. "I know that because I know my son. I may have not raised him, but I've been there throughout his whole life. I know what he feels for you, so don't you even allow yourself to let your doubts get the better of you. He's had a lot on his mind lately. The only constant, apart from the harrassing Prophet reporters that is," she winked as Hermione who laughed softly, "is you.

You make my son happy, Hermione. You have always been there for him, you have never left his side – I refuse to count that time during your third year. You've acted correctly, Ron and Harry were just being dense – and I am more than sure that you will always be there for him. You've seen him for who he really is, not for who he is supposed to be. I don't know how both James and I could tell you just how grateful we truly are. I can only give you my word for it and wish you all the luck and happiness the world has to offer."

New tears glistened in Hermione's eyes as she listened to the words she had needed to hear. The raindrops were pounding on the window, drowning out everything else.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered and hugged Lily tightly. She felt her warm arms embrace her gently and hug her back just as tightly.

"No, thank you," the older witch whispered back. "For making my son happy."

*~*HP~*~

James looked after his wife as she moved out of the room. The door fell shut behind her, leaving a stuffed silence in her wake.

He turned to his son, who was absentmindedly pushing his scrambled eggs around on his plate. His light eyes glared daggers at his sausages as one rolled from one side to the other.

"She's a nice girl," James said in a low voice as to not make Harry jump. "Hermione," he added as his son's questioning glance hit him. "She makes you happy, doesn't she?"

Harry's gazed jumped back to his plate. He nodded.

James watched him for a few seconds, waiting for him to say something, but nothing came. "Do you love her?"

That got him an adequiate reaction. Harry jumped, his eyes widened dramatically and his mouth dropped as he stared at his smiling father.

"It's the way you look at her," the older Potter shrugged and continued to smile gently. "You know she loves you too, don't you?"

Harry blinked, his heart rate rising. Heat slowly crept up his neck as he continued to gape at the smiling man sitting across from him.

"You know, son," James took a deep breath and leaned back into his chair, "if there's been one thing that I've learned in my short life, it is that love is something worth treasuring. Once you feel it and once you see it in other people, you have to hold onto it, because it's something pure and powerful that will keep you going even in moments that have you feeling like giving up."

He watched his son patiently. After a couple of minutes, Harry pushed his hands through his hair, tugging at it irritably. "I just," he sighed and gestured widly with his hands, "I don't know."

"What don't you know?"

Harry shook his head, clearly not knowing how to articulate what he was feeling. He loved Hermione, he knew that. He also knew that that love was going so much deeper than anythign he had ever felt. He just didn't know whether he was compatible. He didn't know whether he could actually lead a relationship like his parents had – loving each other unconditionally, getting married, starting a family. It scared him to think about what the next step would be and he didn't know how he should behave and act whenever Hermione might decide that it would be time to for the next step. He certainly had no idea about relationships, so when should he know when they were ready to deepen their relationship and how should he know whether it was the right thing to do?

"Son," James stood up and walked around the table, so he could sit down next to his distraught son. "You will never know for sure whether what you are doing is right at that point in time because there is no right or wrong when dealing with 'taking the next step'."

He put both of his hands on Harry's shoulders and waited until he stopped fiddling with the hem of his shirt and look him in the eye.

"I know that I'm probably not the best person to ask for advice on how to go about relationships considering how it went with your mother until our seventh year, but what I do know is that I'm much more reliable on that subject as Sirius was," he winked, causing Harry to chuckle. "The only thing that I can tell you is to follow your heart. You will know when the time is ready. You will know when to ask her to marry you, because it isn't your brain deciding, Harry, it is your heart. It has been for my parents, it was for me and it will be for you.

"And if there's something us Potter men do amazingly at, it is to choose our women for life."

James squeezed Harry's shoulders gently and let go. "But you have to promise me something, son," he said and eyes the boy with narrowed eyes.

"Anything!"

"Tell her how you feel and do so soon. You don't want to regret it later if you've missed your opportunity. Because that girl is amazing, so you better follow your heart and hang onto her."

Harry laughed and wiped away a lonely tear running down his cheek.

"You have become a wonderful person, Harry," James said, turning serious as he looked straight into the eyes of his adult son. "We couldn't have hoped for you to become any less. We are so proud of you, my boy. We have always been so very proud of you."

Harry's chin wobbled as he fought the tears threatening to take his breath away. All he could do was lean forward and hug his father as tightly as he could, hoping that that hug would convey every single thought he had in his mind.

"I love you," he whispered as he inhaled the familiar scent of his dad.

"We love you too, son."

*~*HP*~*

Harry winced as he pricked his finger with the needle. A small drop of blood formed on the tip, slowly getting bigger. Just as he had been told, the black-haired wizard let it drop into the first of three candle that were positioned at three of the five edges of the pentagram – two right next to each other and one across from them.

Hermione had explained that this ritual was based on symbolism.

The three candles stood for Lily, James and Harry, all of them the subjects of the magic. The positions of the candles were to show how they were connected at the start – Lily and James, both having died through the same course, were linked by their magic and fate. Harry's candle was situated across from their two candles, symbolising their supposed distance, yet involvement since all three are part of the pentagram. Last but not least, each of the Potters had to add a drop of their blood to their corresponding candles, showing their connection through both blood and magic.

Harry put his bleeding finger into his mouth and sucked gently to stop the blood from flowing. A slight metallic tang hit his taste buds.

"Okay, now all you have to do is stand behind your candles. James, Lily," Hermione nodded to the two mentioned, parchment with instructions in her hands, "you two should hold each other's hand. Your other hand has to point towards Harry, palm up.

"Harry," she went over to her boyfriend and tugged him more towards the left, "you need to reach out to each of them, palms down."

Everyone did as they were told and stood there, looking at each other. They had said their goodbyes, but that didn't mean that made it any less painful.

"Well," Hermione cleared her throat as she forced herself to stay focussed and not think of what might happen after the Potters were gone, "this is it, I guess. The spell is very short, so, if you want to say anything else, I guess now's the time."

James turned to look at Lily, who smiled reassuringly and nodded. Both turned to their son, who looked as if he had trouble staying still and on his designated spot.

"Remember what I told you, son," James raised his eyebrows slightly, silently conveying his message to the younger boy. "You won't regret it, trust me."

Harry's smile was slightly crooked as his chin wobbled. He bit down on his bottom lip and forced a deep breath into his lungs.

"We love you, sweetheart. Never forget that."

"And we couldn't be more proud of you, even if we tried."

Lily felt James gently squeeze her hand as he felt her start to tremble. His muscles were tense, as if he wanted to jump across the room and pull Harry into a tight hug and never let go of him ever again. But he couldn't do that and he knew that. So he stayed put.

He stood there, vaguely registering as Hermione's voice started reciting incantations.

"I love you," his son's voice wasn't more than a whisper, but he heard every single syllable as they cut themselves into his heart. He swallowed thickly as it got more difficult to breathe. He couldn't tell whether that was a consequence of the ritual or whether it was his throat closing up from the deperation he felt at that moment.

The air around them started to waft and a weird, floating feeling washed through his body. He could feel Lily's hand grab his even tighter as the air was sucked out of his lungs. It was as if he was being suffocated, yet he kept his eyes steadily on those of his son.

Harry was crying heavily by now, blinking rapidly to get the tears from taking his view from his parents. Both of them were looking back at him with so much love in their eyes that he didn't know how he could still stand still, rooted on his spot.

And, all of a sudden, a blinding light filled the room and a screech echoed from the walls as the overwhelming feeling of alone set itself deeply within his bones.

Once the light had faded, he could see that his parents were gone.

*~*HP*~*

It felt as if part of his being was ripped away from him. Part of what make him the person he was, was being taken from him irreversably. It felt wrong. It felt so wrong. His very soul was writhing, trying to hold onto the part he had grown used to and which had become part of who he was – but to no avail. With a mighty tug, he felt the connection break. What had fused his energy to his son's broke and crippled what was left behind.

He gasped as pain shot through him. He felt it in every part of his body as he lost everything that had meant something to him. He crumbled on the dirty floor and hit his head on something hard and sharp. He didn't even feel the pain from that collision. All he could feel was the emptiness that filled him completely.

Blinking rapidly and trying to get oxygen into his aching lungs, he looked around. He was sitting on the floor of Godric's Hollow's graveyard, or more specifically – he noticed as he turned around – on his grave. He groaned and rubbed his face. He was exhausted, both mentally and physically.

He still kept seeing him – Harry standing across from him, hands reaching out, desperation marring his face. Screeching had filled his ears, making it impossible to hear anything else Everything had been so bright – and so painful. He had been ripped apart.

Hectically, he shook his head. He forced himself not to think about what he had just lost, and rather focused on the positive things.

Harry would have the chance of healing and he wasn't alone. Hermione would always be there for him, that he knew. He trusted her with his son and he knew that Harry would be alright. He was loved and he was safe. He had a job that he loved, he had his friends, and now he knew that his parents were still thinking of him, still silently watching over him and being there for him, although they couldn't do so physically. They still did emotionally and he knew that now.

Nevertheless, he couldn't do anything as the tears started to trickle down his face. He had just lost his son for a second time. He didn't know how he was supposed to deal with that.

"Lily!"

James sniffled loudly and aggressively wiped his tears away. He needed to find Lily! How could he not have noticed that she wasn't there next to him? Oh Merlin, please. Please don't tell me something went wrong yet again, he thought as a panicked whimper escaped his throat. He needed to find her. Now!

*~*HP*~*

Lily groaned as she opened her eyes. Everything hurt. She felt worse than after being hit with the Cruciatus Curse. What had happened? She couldn't remember how she got here, wherever here was. Shakily, she looked around. She was lying on the hard wooden floor of their living room in Godric's Hollow. Thank goodness for small mercies!

Now to the next question: What had happened to get her onto her lounge floor, aching all over?

She slowly sat up, but quickly aborted that action. She groaned loudly as the room started spinning wickedly around her. She felt like she might puke.

"Oh God," she groaned and covered her mouth with her hands. Something was not right. Something was very wrong, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She felt weird, like she didn't belong, like a part of her was missing. But that didn't make any sense, yet it didn't stop her from feeling that way. She needed to think! What was the last thing she could remember?

Eyes closed and mouth tightly shut, she took a deep, calming breath through her nose, filling her lungs with fresh air. She needed to clear her mind in order to focus and solve this problem. This wasn't any different than having her little boy cry hysterically and not letting himself be calmed – Harry!

Her body shot upright and she regretted it almost instantly as her stomach revolted and she threw up over their beautifully woven carpet. Yet nothing hit the floor. Lily gasped as she dry-heaved aggressively. Harry! Harry! She remembered now! She remembered everything!

The Death Bond, James giving her his magic, her baby boy all grown up, Hermione – oh God, James! Where was James?

Hectically, she looked around the room. "James?" she called and got to her feet unsteadily. "James?"

Nobody answered her. For a fact, now that she just stood there, she could hear nothing but her panicked breathing and rapid heartbeat. He wasn't there. She was alone in their house. What happened?

Okay, think, Potter. Think! She began walking back and forth, nibbling her lip while she desperately tried to think of an answer. The ritual. Hermione and I modified and reversed the ritual. It should have worked. We thought of everything, so where is –

A clanking sound came from the front door, just before it was being pushed open and bounced off the wall. "Lily? Lily, are you here?"

"James!"

Her husband whirled around the corner and barrelled into her. "Oh, thank Merlin, Lily!" He pulled her into a warm embrace, squeazing her tightly. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, James." She pulled away and put her hands on his flushed cheeks. "I'm fine."

The raven-haired wizard exhaled sharply and closed his eyes, feeling a rush of relief flood his body.

He tightened his hold on Lily, a desperation flooding through him that he had only once felt before – right after he had died. He needed to make sure that she was right there and wouldn't vanish just like Harry had just done. She would stay and they would somehow get through this together.

Pulling back slightly, Lily eyed him worriedly for a moment and pulled him back into her arms as soon as she got a view of his eyes. "He will be alright, honey. Our boy will be alright, and one day in the future we will see him again. You'll see."

James could only nod as he pressed his face into the crook of her neck and his arms pulled her even closer. He inhaled her lovely, fresh scent, letting it pull him away from all the pain as the tears started to fall.

*~*HP*~*

Harry stood on his peak of the pentagram and stared at the empty spot that had only just harboured his mother and father. They were gone. The two candles that had been flickering wildly during the ritual were blown out, his own still glowing merrily.

This felt wrong. It felt all wrong! Why were they not burning? The candles were supposed to be burning! His mum and dad were still there, just not here in the house! They were still in Godric's Hollow to where their Death Bond had pulled them. They weren't gone! They – they couldn't be. No, this was wrong!

"We have to light them again," Harry mumbled, feeling weirdly out of place as he forced his numb legs to start moving. He stumbled around the pentagram and dropped onto the floor next to the two white candles. This is wrong! He pulled out his wand, fumbled with it for a few seconds and pointed it at his mum's candle first.

"Incendio."

Nothing happened.

"Incendio!"

"Harry?"

The candle stayed cold.

"Why isn't it working?! Incendio", he pointed his wand at his dad's candle, and again failing to light it up.

"Harry, they won't light up."

Hermione walked through the room slowly and sunk down next to the devastated and confused boy cowering in front of two white candles, whose wax was slowly cooling down.

"But this is all wrong! We have to light them again! We can't just let them – "

"They're gone, Harry."

"No. No! No, we just have to – "

"Harry! Look at me!"

Frantic eyes met calm ones and looked for the lie he was sure that she was telling him. He found nothing. He found nothing but brutal, painful honesty that ripped open the slowly growing wound inside of him at such a rapid pace that he gasped and clutched at his chest.

This pain needed to stop! This was all wrong! This couldn't happen! It was impossible!

His breathing was shallow as he painfully sucked in air, desperate for the oxygen.

He was alone again. He had just gotten his parents back and now they were gone, leaving him behind. This couldn't be happening. This had to be some kind of cruel nightmare and he would wake up any second! It had to be. He wouldn't survive this pain if this was the real.

"Harry," Hermione's voice sounded oddly far away, as if she was speaking through a telephone wrapped in multiple layers of fabric. "Harry, you need to calm down."

Calm down? He was calm. He had never been more calm. He just didn't understand why his chest felt as if it was being ripped open. He couldn't breathe. There wasn't enough air in the room. He blinked rapidly as his gaze jumped around the room. They were gone. They were really gone. This hadn't been a dream. If it had be, he'd have woken up by now. But this nightmare wasn't ending. He was alone again. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't –

Harry gasped desperately for air as his wet eyes turn upward and he was engulfed in merciful darkness.

*~*HP*~*

The first thing he saw was the ceiling. He could see small cracks running along its perimeter, forming intricate patterns. Dust was floating in the air as the sun lightened up the room. The thick curtains had been drawn back and pulled taught with a piece of strong ribbon, securing them neatly in place.

Harry blinked tiredly. His head was pounding viciously, making him groan softly as he tried to sit up.

A gasp pulled his attention away from the curtains. Hermione sat next to his bed, a book on her lap and a frantic, yet relieved expression on her beautiful face.

"How are you?" she asked softly and hurriedly sat down right next to him. The mattress bend down slightly under her weight.

"I'm fine," he mumbled, too preoccupied by her hands rubbing soothing circles on his temples. "Headache."

Hermione chuckled quietly and continued her ministration.

Her hands felt heavenly. The pounding headache started to dwindle away, leaving him feel painless yet oddly... empty. Something was wrong.

"Hermione?" he asked, cursing himself as her hands stopped massaging his temples. "What happened?"

The young witch hesitated as she turned to fully look at him. "You don't remember?"

Harry frowned, but shook his head.

"We've sent your parents home, Harry," Hermione said cautiously, not entirely sure how to tell him without causing another panic attack that ended with him fainting. "We performed the ritual and everything worked accordingly this time. I've checked your magical core and it seems that everything will be back to how it's supposed to be. It's still not up to the level how it once was since it's still repleneshing, but you should be up and ready in a couple of days."

Blinking slowly, pictures came back to him, memories of his parents standing in front of him, smiling at him, telling him how much they loved him and then it got fuzzy. He couldn't remember what happened after the bright light had filled the room. The only things he could remember were a lot of confusion and pain.

His brain shied away from the scene and focused on something very much present instead – Hermione.

"They're really gone, aren't they?" he asked her, looking deeply into her beautiful chocolate eyes.

Hermione watched as the emotions washed over Harry's face – happiness, confusion, emptiness, pain. "Yes," she said and ran a hand through his hair, trying to smooth it down slightly, "they are gone."

Harry nodded slowly, his brain still fighting to comprehend everything. The emptiness within him got bigger. Yes, they are gone. The words echoed in his head, repeated themselves over and over again. He felt weirdly detached from his body, as if her was floating next to it, watching the emotions flow through the body yet unable to experience any of them.

"You're not alone with this, you know?"

Blinking, he looked up and saw her eying him closely.

"I'm here with you and I won't leave. I never will."

Tears gathered in his eyes and he didn't even try to stop them from falling. He just let go. He let everything go and Hermione was right there, holding him tightly in her warm embrace, lazily combing his hair with her fingers. She gently scratched his scalp and placed kisses on his head, forehead and cheeks. He held onto her and allowed himself to feel. He could still hear his dad's words in his head.

"You know, son, if there's been one thing that I've learned in my short life, it is that love is something worth treasuring. Once you feel it and once you see it in other people, you have to hold onto it, because it's something pure and powerful that will keep you going even in moments that have you feeling like giving up."

He felt it at that moment. The warmth flowing through his body as Hermione's promises engraved themselves into his heart, made the hole in his chest stop bleeding and feel as if, with time, it might be able to heal. It was a feeling he had thought he would never be able to feel again.

"The only thing that I can tell you is to follow your heart. You will know when the time is ready. It isn't your brain deciding, Harry, it is your heart. It has been for my parents, it was for me and it will be for you. Tell her how you feel and do so soon. You don't want to regret it later if you've missed your opportunity. Because that girl is amazing, so you better follow your heart and hang onto her."

He inhaled deeply, tears drying, as he bathed in the love this incredible woman gave him. At that moment he knew. He knew there wouldn't be anyone else in his world. He wanted to live the rest of his life with this amazing and loving witch, who had always been by his side, had always made him see that there was still hope, and who had always told and showed him that as long as she was around, he would never be alone.

"I love you, Hermione," he whispered softly into her ear, a true smile gracing his face. "I love you."

The witch froze in his arms and, after a few seconds, slowly pulled out of his embrace. Her eyes were big as she stared at the young man lying in bed. His green eyes were honest and sincere, shining with so much tenderness that her breath hitched.

Before she knew what was happening, she was a crying mess. Her loud sobs were muffled by Harry's shirt which she was clutching onto with all her might. A rumble vibrated through his chest as the black-haired wizard chuckled softly.

"I love you too," Hermione's words were difficult to understand in between her hiccups and muffled by Harry's clothes, yet he could feel them in his body as it started tingling almost instantly. Every part where Hermione's body was pressed up against his was on fire. He pulled her even closer and inhaled her calming, clean scent.

For the first time in a long while he felt as if someday it might be okay. He felt as if one day he might actually heal and be able to lead a happy life. He would accomplish all that he wished for, and through it all, Hermione would be by his side and he would be by her side, suppporting and loving her in every possible way. He would never leave her side.

*~*HP*~*

Later that day, the two young adults sat next to each other in front of the fireplace. Their hands were intertwined, her head rested on his shoulder, his arm lying across hers.

Harry was staring into the flames, sifting through everything that had happened in the past few days. Even though the hole in his heart had slowly started to close, the emptiness was still there, constantly reminding him of what he had lost. Absentmindedly, he wondered whether that emptiness would ever fully go away. For some reason, he knew it would. It might have been something his father had said to him, but he knew that, with time, this last week would be less painful to think about. It would be a cherished memory of the two people who loved him more than anything – the two people who had conquered death just to be able to hug him again and tell him how much they missed him. He knew he would see them again someday, but he hoped, sitting there next to the woman he loved, that that day was a long way to go.

A lone tear ran down his cheek, leaving a wet trail behind. Harry blinked as a warm finger wiped it away. He looked down and was met with a loving gaze of two chocolate brown eyes watching him. A smile tugged at his lips as he slowly leant down and kissed those smooth lips softly.

Hermione hummed contently as she pulled away a few minutes later. Her cheeks were flushed slightly, her eyes bright and twinkling with happiness. Harry decided that this was his new favourite version of her – calm, happy and content.

"I have something for you," she whispered and slowly got off of him. Harry pouted slightly as she got off the couch and went over to the set of drawers. She pulled open the top drawer and took what looked like a piece of paper and a leather-bound book out of it.

Harry frowned slightly as he recognised the photo album that Hagrid had given to him all those years ago.

"I owled a few people this morning and asked whether they could help me with this. I wanted you to have it tonight," she blushed lovingly and held out the piece of paper to him.

As Harry curiously turned it around, his heart stuttered before picking up the pace. It was the picture they had taken only last night. It felt as if it had been ages ago.

Mesmerised, the young man watched himself beam into the camera, his mother's hand holding onto his waist, his father's arm slung around his shoulders. His picture-self turned to his dad, grinning widely as the latter ruffled his hair. James threw his head back and laughed hysterically as Lily frowned and reached up to neaten her laughing son's hair. Giving up after a few tugs, she shook her head and softly kissed Harry's cheek, grinning widely as the young wizard blushed. Lily's eyes met James' and they both shared an intimate smile, both gazing at their son with so much love that fresh tears sprung up in Harry's eyes. He hadn't noticed them looking at this like that, being too preoccupied with hiding his blush.

He couldn't believe this picture had only been taken not twenty-four hours ago, in this very room. It felt like a lifetime. He remembered feeling normal when that picture had been taken. He had felt like any other boy, enjoying a laugh with his parents. He hadn't felt the hollow emptiness inside of him, of what he had been so afraid of to happen.

The hole in his chest ached as he looked at the happy scene he was holding in his hands.

"You will see them again some day," Hermione said and placed a kiss on his cheek. She snuggled up against his side and looked at the picture. "But until then," she said and gazed into his eyes, "we'll make the best of what will come our way."

We. She had said we.

Harry turned away from the photograph he was clutching in his trembling hand and looked at the witch by his side. She must have known what he was feeling, as she merely smiled knowingly and placed her right hand on his left cheek, successfully forcing him to look at her as she spoke her next words.

"We will do this together, Harry, and some day in the future we will notice that we have healed along the way. Because we've had each other."

Yes, Harry thought as he slowly leant closer to catch her lips with his. Her skin was smooth, soft and tasted like more.

They might not have parents to ask for advice, they might not have their best friend at their side, but there was one thing they did have, the most important thing.

They had each other and nothing would change that.

The End.