Complete header information may be found in
Chapter One. You may find all parts of this story by clicking the
Harry Potter and the Slytherin's Hair tag.
Chapter Ten: That Sense of Normalcy
The next several days went by in a blur for Harry. He had left
the Tonks' feeling wakeful, for
Andromeda had seen how exhausted he was and put him directly to bed.
When he had awoken, the
lady had given him breakfast, and they had talked of Nymphadora and
Sirius. It had been sad, but
Harry was gratified to have more memories of his godfather and his
friend. He had not been sure what
to expect when he returned to Hogwarts. The the reporters, prayer
vigils, and protesters that were
milling around the grounds had been a surprise. The Aurors and Ministry
officials had not been.
Hagrid had met him at the gate, thrown his invisibility cloak
over him, and taken Harry directly to
Minerva McGonagall, who had already been named Headmistress. She had
greeted him warmly, telling
him, "You're a sight for sore eyes,"
before startling him by enfolding him in her arms. They had talked
for hours. Harry could not remember about what.
And then he woke up in the Infirmary with no memory of having
been taken there to absolute silence.
Must be a charm, he thought, sitting up.
"Hello?" he called to the closed curtains.
They swung open almost immediately. "Oh, Harry!
I'm glad you're awake, dear. I'm having
quite a
time keeping those Ministry pillocks out of the ward!"
"Ministry . . . officials? What do they want with
me?"
The witch made an impatient cluck and said, "They
seem to think you're required to give them details.
I've told them to bugger off, of course."
Harry smiled to hear the nurse use coarse language.
"Thanks. Where are my glasses?"
"On the table, dear. And your clothes are on the
chair. You dress yourself and come into my office.
We've a few things to discuss before I can release
you."
"Um, okay."
Madam Pomfrey offered him cookies and tea when he entered her
office, and he ate the entire platter
and drank the entire pot before she spoke.
"Good. You need feeding up. Now then,
you're perfectly healthy, but you do need to rest for the
next
several weeks. I don't want you
gallivanting about to Ministry functions and awards ceremonies and
funerals."
"Funerals. Oh. Who died? I mean, besides the
Headmaster and Tonks?" he asked, feeling more heavy
than sad.
"There's a list, Harry. I've
brought you a copy of it," Pomfrey said, handing him a
scroll. "There was
fighting here, in Hogsmeade, at the Ministry, and near and in Riddle
House, which is where He Who
Must-the Dark Lord was keeping himself, apparently."
"P-Percy Weasley?"
"Died at the Ministry," the nurse said
through pursed lips.
Harry was relieved that he did not know most of the names, but
felt guilty about feeling that way.
"Who's in charge of the Order now?"
"Arthur Weasley and Professor Snape, dear.
They've both been to see me. They say you're not
obligated to speak to anyone at the Ministry if you don't
want to."
"Oh. Good."
"Oh, yes. Classes don't begin until next
week. We're extending the term two weeks. Hogwarts was
badly damaged, but repairs are underway. Your friends Ron and Hermione
are at the Burrow. You've
been invited to stay there. Would you like to go now?"
"Where's Blaise Zabini?"
"Ah," she replied, smiling. "I
thought you might be asking about that young lady. "Blaise is
here. The
Slytherin portion of the castle was undamaged. Perhaps I should call
her for you. She'll want to show
you which parts of the castle are off-limits until the repairs are
concluded."
"Yes, please."
Before the witch could get to her hearth, a voice called from
the door, "Madam Pomfrey, is Harry
awake, yet?"
"Come in, dear."
"Harry!"
He flushed. "Hi," he said, and was pleased
when the girl rushed to him and hugged him.
"I'm sorry, is this not okay?"
Blaise asked when Harry stiffened.
"No, it's fine, really."
"I'll just check on some patients, my
dears."
"Blaise," Harry breathed against the
girl's neck. "I'm, I was,
you're all right."
"I'm glad you're fine,
too," she said, squeezing him back. "No one
knows."
Harry pulled a little away. "About what? And
how's your head?"
"Oh, that. I was struck by a chunk of stone during
an explosion. I'm fine. No one knows about
Pettigrew-his name isn't even on the official list
of the dead," Blaise said, looking chastened.
"You did what you thought you had to do.
It's all right."
"You're not mad? You didn't want
me to do it. I . . . I didn't really hear that until
after."
"I'm not mad," he assured her,
brushing his lips against her forehead. "I was just worried
about you.
Have you told anyone about the torc?"
"No. I didn't think it would be a good
idea. I suppose I'll just have to avoid dead bodies in
future."
Harry chuckled. "I'm for that, as well,
but you know . . . this is weird."
"What? Kissing me?"
"No, and we haven't had much of that, have
we?"
"No."
"I'd like one, you know."
"So would I, but I expect there are things you want
to do, first. I'm to tell you that you're to
contact the
Burrow at once."
"I will. It's weird that things seem so
normal."
"Half the school's been blasted to bits,
most of the 'mythical' creatures on the isle are
dead or
captured, you took Voldemort's body and then destroyed it, I
reanimated Death Eaters, the war's
over, Auror Tonks, Percy Weasley, and so many others are
dead-what's normal about that?"
"I guess it's 'normal'
for us, for our lives. I'm glad-that it's
over-I just don't know how to act now
that it is. And Percy . . . Ron's got to be upset, even
though, maybe because of how . . . ."
Blaise ran a hand through Harry's hair and
whispered, "Let's go see them."
"You'll come with me?" Harry
asked, not quite knowing how to react at his feeling that it was
important
she do so.
"Of course," she said, giving him a quick
peck on his cheek before releasing him. "Normal will work
itself out in time, won't it?"
It will have to.
No one was surprised to see Blaise arrive with Harry, and both
were made as welcome as any member
of the Weasley family. No one pressed Harry for details, and they sat
in the kitchen and talked sadly
about the good things they remembered about Percy. It felt strange, but
normal, too-like family.
"Well," Mr. Weasley said when things had
quieted after dinner, "I expect you'll be needing
to make
room for a third, Ginny."
"Oh, of course," she replied, looking at
Blaise.
"That's not-"
"Nonsense!" Molly interrupted the girl.
"Any friend of Harry's, isn't that right,
Ginny? And you don't
need to stay cooped up at Hogwarts when all your friends are
here."
"Millicent's here?" Harry asked.
Ginny flushed. "Um, she will be, later.
She's making sure her aunt's all right."
"Aunt Laura is the only Bulstrode who
didn't follow the Dark Lord," Blaise explained.
"She's quite a
formidable old lady, but getting on in years. The . . . death of her
family, most of it, well, she took it
hard."
"Sounds like you know her well."
"She made me feel very welcome after the split with
my own family, much as you have done, Mr. and
Mrs. Weasley."
"Say nothing about it, dear. We're happy
to have you here. Now then, it's late. You children should be
getting to bed."
"Mum! Harry just . . . I mean-"
"It's all right, Gin, really. Just because
I defeated Voldemort doesn't mean I don't get
tired."
"Well, I'm not
tired!"
"Good," Hermione said, brightening.
"Ron and I were talking earlier about studying for
N.E.W.T.s-"
"You were talking about it, you mean," he
said grumpily. "I say we're entitled to a
break."
"-And I'm sure you must have
studying of your own to do, as well," Hermione continued.
"Shall we
set up here?"
The day of his Potions N.E.W.T., Professor Snape pulled Harry
aside before the examination.
"Do you feel prepared for the examination, Mr.
Potter?"
"Uh, well . . . ."
"As I suspected. Very well. You will do your best.
Should you fail, I would be happy to provide you
tutoring over the summer so that you might take it again with the group
of students who were too
injured to take their N.E.W.T.s today."
"That's very generous of you,
Sir."
"Yes. Further, Miss Zabini has asked to see my
daughters. I thought you might wish to join her, say, at
seven o'clock this evening?"
"Students aren't allowed off grounds that
late."
Snape smirked. "I'm pleased to see you
remembering that particular rule now, boy."
Harry blushed. Of course. He knows why Blaise and I
were-
"Mrs. Snape has taken up residence in the castle.
Headmistress McGonagall has been good enough to
provide us with chambers . . . above ground."
"I suppose babies do need fresh air, Sir,"
Harry replied, successfully keeping a straight face.
Snape gave a small nod of his head, and the boy could tell how
pleased he was, in general, if not about
having to surrender the dungeons.
"Medi-witch Kiernan said that your babies were
beautiful. I'd like to meet them."
"And if the children had favored me?"
"Even then, Sir, but even you must be glad
that-oh. Um, seven. Sounds great."
"Thank God you have no intention of becoming a
diplomat, Potter."
Remus Lupin was present when Harry and Blaise arrived.
"Harry," he said warmly,
"it's good to see you."
"Remus, I didn't know that you were at
Hogwarts."
"Actually, I'm not. I'm helping
Rosmerta mind the pub while she's-"
"'Incapacitated'," the
witch called from her position by the fire.
She was cradling one dark-haired infant, and Professor Snape
held the other twin. Both parents looked
very proud.
"You'll never let me forget that slip,
will you?" Snape said in mock irritation.
"I think not. Pregnancy is not a disease, Severus.
Come here, Blaise and Harry. I think we could use a
break."
Before he knew it, Harry was sitting next to Blaise on the
opposite sofa in front of the hearth, and they
were each holding a baby.
"So, which of your daughters am I
holding," he asked the wizard.
"'Victorious Defender' of
'Merciful
Counselor'?"
Snape looked impressed. Rosmerta replied, "You have
Vittoria. Blaise has Venitia."
"How appropriate," Remus said.
Harry felt like blushing, but he did not. He was growing used
to accepting people's praise for his deeds.
"They're so lovely," Blaise
murmured.
"Don't go getting any ideas,"
Snape said, looking alarmed.
Harry did blush then.
"Of course not. How could I marry, get pregnant, and
be your apprentice at the same time?"
"At least you have the order partially
right," the wizard replied, mollified.
Harry turned to look at his friend.
"You're going to be apprenticed to
Sn-Professor Snape?"
"Yes. We decided after the results of the exams came
in. I like Potions. I think it would be a fine thing
to be a Potions mistress."
"I'm sure you'll be the best
ever," Harry said emphatically, before realizing his words
might be taken
wrongly.
"Blaise has the potential to be truly
great," Snape said.
"What will you do, Harry?" Rosmerta asked.
"Oh, well, if I pass my Potions
N.E.W.T.-"
"Congratulations, Mr. Potter."
"I passed, Sir?" Harry asked, thoroughly
surprised.
"Barely."
"Severus! You know that's not
true."
Harry laughed. "I passed, that's the
important thing. I'm going to join the Auror Corps."
"What, no professional Quidditch for you?"
Remus asked.
"Nah, Ron's going to do that, despite
Hermione's disapproval. He's determined to make the
Chudley
Cannons and see to it they win for once."
"And Hermione?" asked Remus.
"What will she be doing?"
"Hermione wants to become a spell-craftre."
"So more school for Miss Granger," Snape
replied. "I'm not surprised, though I am . . .
pleased that
you all lived to make these choices," he said quietly.
"Thank you, Sir. We're happy about it,
too."
Everyone laughed. Finally, Harry found himself walking Blaise
back to her dormitory. The Sytherins
who were left at school greeted Harry cordially, some even thanking him
for what he had done, and
then he was standing before Blaise's bedroom door.
"Never thought I'd be here," he
said nervously, his heart beginning to beat faster. So pretty,
he thought,
tracing one of the braids coiled on Blaise's head.
"You really don't like it when I do up my
hair."
"I like it down. I'd like to touch
it."
"Would you?" she teased, brushing her body
against his almost imperceptibly.
It was enough to make him wish for his robes.
"Yeah."
"I've a hairbrush, you know."
"What?"
"I've a hairbrush. One uses them
to-"
"I know what they're for. Are you asking
me to . . . brush you hair?"
The thought of being able to touch Blaise like that was almost
too erotic to bear.
"Yes, Harry, I am," she replied, pressing
against him a little more firmly. "I want to ask you to do
other
things, too, but I suppose I should give you one question at a
time."
"You can give me anything you want to,"
Harry managed to say, as he ran his hands lightly up and
down the girl's back.
Blaise grinned. "Well then, it's good that
exams are over, isn't it?" she asked, before moving
to kiss
him.
Without having to worry about any interference, kissing Blaise
felt like a miracle. Harry groaned into her
mouth and slid his tongue along hers, jumping a bit when she playfully
sucked it. It made something else
entirely throb with need.
"B-Blaise . . . I-"
"Want to brush my hair. Yes," she replied
huskily, "I know. Come in."
Harry had never moved faster in his life, and unwinding
Blaise's hair, running his fingers through it,
kissing it, brushing it, was the most amazing thing he had ever
felt-until the witch made good on her
promise to give him other questions, many in the form of requests, some
as demands, but all of them
things he found within his power to answer and grant.
They fell asleep in each other's arms, and when he
woke up the next morning and looked at the
sleeping wonder that was Blaise Zabini, he felt as though he were at
last at home.
"Wherever you are," he murmured, kissing
her face gently, "that's home."
"Is it?" she asked, opening her eyes at
once.
"You weren't sleeping."
She blushed. "No. I was watching you sleep before
you woke up."
"Sneaky Slytherin," he said fondly.
"Gorgeous Gryffindor," she replied,
pulling him down into a kiss.
Breaking it long moments later, Harry asked, "You
think I'm gorgeous?"
"Would I let just anyone brush my hair,
Potter?"
"You'd better not, Zabini."
They were late to breakfast, and various commitments kept them
from seeing as much of each other as
they would have liked, but before their graduation ceremony, Harry
found time to bring Blaise to the
Owlery.
"Look," he told her, gathering her in his
arms and levitating both of them up to the nest Hedwig had
made with Silvio. "The eggs have hatched."
Four tiny, fuzzy white chicks slept against Hedwig, while
Silvio watched over his brood with evident
pride.
"I'd like to have children some
day," Blaise whispered.
"With me?"
"No. I quite fancy having them with Remus
Lupin-of course, with you!"
Hedwig rustled her feathers in annoyance.
"Well, Lupin is rather handsome
. . . ."
Blaise snorted.
"You sound like Snape when you do that."
"Severus has his . . . qualities, too."
"What?"
"I am teasing you, you great
jealous pillock!"
Harry lowered the both of them to the floor.
"I'll show you what kind of pillock I
am," he said, mock
threateningly, smiling broadly at the girl.
Blaise shrieked out a startled laugh as he grabbed her, and
soon they were chasing each other through
the air-Harry flying by himself, and Blaise under the power
of her own wings. All in all, it was a
perfectly normal evening for the Gryffindor and Slytherin, and it ended
happily with hair-brushing and
soft words.
"I'd like to have children,
too," Harry whispered.
"With Remus Lupin?" Blaise teased,
snuggling into his body.
It was a simple thing, her teasing, and it made Harry feel
more loved than he had ever been. Loved.
Love. I do love you, he thought, letting
go of some of the pain he had felt since killing Voldemort. I
have loved you for a long time. Taking a deep breath, he
said, "No, with hair as glorious as yours,"
and then tensed for fear his admission was too much, too soon.
"Oh, Harry," Blaise
whispered. "Harry, I love you, as well."
"Trust a Slytherin to understand subtext,"
he replied, rolling over to kiss his girlfriend goodnight.
"That's a big word for a
Gryffindor," she teased.
To celebrate their first Christmas as man and wife some years
later, Harry presented Blaise with a
silver-handled hairbrush with green bristles with the word
"subtext" inscribed on the handle. They never
explained what this meant to their children, but then, Dora, Sirius,
Brian, Arthur, and Merva never
asked. They knew well enough what it meant when Mummy and Daddy started
talking about it being
"hair-brushing time," and they often wished they
had normal parents.
But the Zabini-Potter children loved to hear their
parents' stories.
Fin