Unofficial Portkey Archive

The Triumvirate of Resolve by Vicarious Leigh
EPUB MOBI HTML Text

The Triumvirate of Resolve

Vicarious Leigh

A/N: First a few notes for you!

Number one- I want to give my heartfelt appreciation for those who voted for "The Power He Knows Not" in the Reader's Choice awards. I'm truly humbled.

Second, Big THANKS to Muddgutts (Victor) who has been working on some FanArt for this Fic. It's wonderful and I'm so impressed someone was inspired enough to draw some of it for me!!

Third, if you haven't Read the "Power He Knows Not," you need to. I'm not saying that to be obnoxious, only that this will make NO sense if you haven't read that one first. It's a sequel and it is building accordingly.

Last, I changed up my style quite a bit in this fic. "Power" was written solely from Harry's POV. This is not. It begins with an attempt at the epistolary style (I got the idea from Lori's "A Theory of Letters" she is the H/H goddess and all the credit there goes to her). It will tell the story from many different points of view.

As I've said before, this story is FAR more complex than "Power" ever was. There are easily 15 story lines running through this. Some are so far buried you already read the "plants" in "Power" and likely just didn't notice it. It's already as long as "Power" was and I've only written them through about September of their Seventh Year. As it's a work in Progress I wouldn't expect updates as quickly as they came with "Power".

With that said….I welcome everyone to the "Power" series and I wish you many hours of happy reading!!!!

Vicarious Leigh

****

Chapter 1 - The Many Travels of Hedwig

July 15

Dear Hermione,

I never seem to be able to find the words to start one of these owls. I don't quite understand; it's never been this hard to write to you before this summer began. I suppose I could begin with some quaint and utterly overdone salutation…"How are you doing?" or "How's your summer been?" but I already know the answers to those questions either from your letters or from the connection that we've managed to forge. Most likely I know the answer because it's the same answer I would have if you asked me those questions. I suppose I could ask you what you've been doing with your summer, but again that's an effort in redundancy.

The hardest thing about writing to you is this; the one thing I really don't want to talk about seems to be the only thing that comes scratching out of this quill. I want to avoid the subject of our separation. I want to find some cordial and trite conversation that will take my mind off the fact I can't see you, or hear your voice, or hold you in my arms. But when I sit at this old desk, in this dim room, in this "home" I'm cursed to occupy and turn my thoughts to you…I am speechless. I cannot muster a word or phrase that doesn't seem irrefutably sappy. I keep looking over my shoulder waiting for Peeves to hurl something at the "ickle firsty" writing a love letter.

However, I am a Gryffindor and have taken on Voldemort more times than I can count….so, I can do this. Here goes…

In answer to your last question, I have heard from Ron this summer, but only twice so far. He isn't much for writing some of the epistles that you're so talented in penning. They've pretty much just indicated that he's doing well, and with the exception of being an unwilling guinea pig for Fred and George's latest invention, all is well. He hasn't made any mention of what's going on in our world and with whom (if you get my meaning). I don't imagine Ms Weasley is any more intent on discussing Order business in front of him now that we are all only days away from being of age.

I can't believe you've not heard from Ginny at all. She has gotten to be so chatty I promise she's not the person I met six years ago. However, I suppose that internship at Witch Weekly has consumed all of her time. It's really perfect for her though, I'm sure she will excel in that sort of profession-it's such a great opportunity, she's really lucky to have landed it.

I'm doing as well as can be expected. The Dursleys are…well, they're the Dursleys. What more can I say? The house is filled with its typical warmth and compassion…there's Vernon bellowing now. Dudley is as sleek and personable as a blast ended skrewt with an intestinal malady. Funny, he kind of looks like one of those as well. He made the rather unfortunate error of trying to take one of your letters from my "cell" the other day. I could tell from our attempts over the past few weeks that the Ministry is either not tracking, or cannot track telekinetic activity. I'm not sure what was better, watching the frying pan whack him in the head, or watching his reaction when Vernon and Petunia couldn't find my wand after they searched me for it (it was safely upstairs in my trunk). All three have been walking on eggshells around me for a solid three days -not that their behavior is much different than it ever has been. After all, I am the "freak" as Petunia continues to remind me.

Speaking of our attempts over the last few weeks, I know there's something you aren't telling me. I can feel it. I know you've not been sleeping well, if only because I'm most successful at connecting to you when you're asleep and frankly, I am having increasing difficulty determining when it is that you sleep at all. Please Hermione, I don't care how far apart we are, or how long it will be before I see you again, I need you to be honest with me about what's bothering you. If left to my own imagination I'm liable to think up any one of a million reasons why I think you're losing sleep. About 90% of those reasons revolve around my fear you've realized what a big mistake you've made in accepting my proposal. Please let me help.

Well, I wish I could say I've succeeded in small-talking myself out of the obvious revelation that I miss you terribly. I failed miserably. I can't stop thinking about you or missing you. Life here has always been cold but this summer feels like a nuclear winter. But I have your letters, I have your photos, I have glimpses of your emotions…but most importantly, even though you aren't here, I have you. That means everything to me.

All my love,

Your frying-pan chucking fiancé

Harry

***

July 19

Dear Harry,

I keep waiting for the day I'll see Hedwig at my window and find the letter attached that brings me peace. You sound so unabashedly depressed! I know your stay with the Dursleys must be trying, but please remember who you are. You are not just Harry Potter the "Boy Who Lived" you are not just Harry Potter "He-Who-Will-Bring-Down-Voldemort." You are also not just an incredibly powerful wizard or just the Future Mr. Granger (I'm still not taking your name). You are so much more than all of that. Don't let a few weeks with some shortsighted Muggles (who have NEVER known you) to detract from who you are. I fully expect to see the same man I love at the end of this summer, as I did at the beginning of it. Got that?

About your decree that something is bothering me…well, I didn't call you a powerful wizard for nothing. After all we've been told that time and distance matter in magic and yet, you can still get into my head when you live hundreds of kilometers from me, I am amazed by your ability sometimes. I haven't been sleeping well. I guess I've just had so much on my mind. I'm trying to sort through it all but really there's no sense in bothering you with any of it. It's all generally silly (and rest assured has nothing to do with you or your proposal!) The ring hasn't left my hand since you placed it here, nor will it. The only realization I've made is that I should not have waited until our 6th year to tell you how I felt. So please stow those 900,000 reasons for me being upset…you can't get rid of me that quickly Potter (and I do expect you'll notice I did the math in my head on that)!

I am a bit worried about the Weasleys and I don't really even know why. I am worried about Ginny. It's not like her not to send me an owl at least once every few days, yet I've not heard from her at all this summer. I know her internship must be hectic, working for such a large publication, but it's unlike her to neglect her friends. Ron is another story. I have heard from him some. He told me the same story about Fred and George's "Narcolepsy Nutbars" he apparently told you. I laughed until I cried seeing him fall dead asleep into Molly's treackle pudding for two solid days. I do hope Fred and George have developed a more suitable version with less long-lasting effects! That aside, I just can't help but think his letters are…sterile. I know he's not much for writing, but something just seems different and I can't place a finger on it specifically. You know that's driving me mad.

The other thing driving me mad is Hogwarts! I'm dying to know who will be the Head Boy and Girl! Can they possibly take any longer to send us our letters this summer? I have already had anxiety attacks about our N.E.W.T.s and don't know that I'll have enough time to get ahead in the reading if they don't send our textbook list soon. I have all this time I should be doing something productive with it! I thought to send McGonagall an owl to speed up the process but luckily, I don't have one…again you (or rather Hedwig) has saved me the embarrassment of having to read what would undoubtedly be her sanctimonious (and annoyingly TRUE) reply. I can hear her now…"Ms Granger. As patience is not one of your virtues I will not try to encourage it in you. You shall have your letter according to our schedule and not your own! Have a wonderful summer."

See! That's how you do it. You'll notice I have artfully crafted this letter to avoid nearly all references to how much I miss seeing those beautiful emerald eyes, how much I wish to run my hands through that unruly mop of hair atop your head, or be held by the toned arms which can belong to none other than Gryffindor's most decorated seeker and Quidditch Captain.

Humm, that's funny. When I went to muggle grade school the girls always made fun of me (and I completely believed them) that I'd never have a boyfriend, let alone one that is popular or athletic. Isn't life ironic? Well, I don't mind that they can't see how wrong they were…in hindsight, the fact Kristine's belt refused to stay buckled the rest of that afternoon was revenge enough for me. I can still nearly feel how her embarrassment approximated my own that day! I promise if that girl were a witch she might have been the heir of Slytherin.

In any case, I really must go. I have some things to attend to here and I've lost my ability to chat cordially without becoming that same "ickle firsty" you wrote about. Just know this before I close…

I love you Harry Potter. I miss you dearly and never cease to count the days until we're together again. I truly hope Dumbledore will make a decision shortly about your stay. And one last thing, just remember as the Dursley's are...well, being the Dursley's. After you leave there this summer, you never have to return.

All my love,

Your impatient skirt-shanking fiancée

Hermione

***

July 21

Dear Hermione,

I've had enough small talk. I need you to tell me the truth. I'm sorry if this letter seems abrupt but I'm worried to death about you Hermione. Last night I had a dream about us…sort of. I saw myself and Ron fighting Voldemort in some dark place I couldn't quite make out. That in itself was not uncommon for me. There's hardly a night that has passed since I was eleven that I haven't had some form of dream or nightmare when I closed my eyes. But this one was different. I watched myself and Ron from somewhere else. It was almost like an out-of-body experience. I watched myself fighting. I fell nothing but pure terror…that's part of the difference.

I've faced Voldemort enough in my life and I've come to terms with the prophecy and what it might mean, I've never once been terrified when fighting him (not even in my dreams). I might be scared, I might have my heart in my throat, but never the feelings I felt last night.

I woke up screaming as I watched myself get hit with the Avada Kedavara that shot from the end of his wand. I was holding onto Ron's hand and my own??? Then I realized the difference. I was watching YOUR dream, not mine. The three of us were holding hands together and I stepped out to take the AK in the chest for both of you. I watched this from your perspective and swear I felt what you did.

I must've managed to connect with you at a time you were actually asleep. Is this the reason why you've not been sleeping? I need you to talk to me. I have to know you're okay. All of your letters this summer have been eerily silent about everything that happened at the end of last year. You've not mentioned Krum once, you've not mentioned Voldemort. I know it's with you Hermione, please let it out through me. I'll expect Hedwig back promptly.

Patiently awaiting your owl,

Harry

***

July 22

Harry.

How dare you! I can't believe you sometimes! You know, just because you have the power to break into someone else's subconscious doesn't give you the right to do so! It is of no consequence to you what I'm dreaming about or who for that matter. And what is with you bringing up Krum? Are you trying to hurt me? Honestly, sometimes I don't understand you at all. I've instructed Hedwig to peck you until you bleed, I certainly hope she's not as much of a git as you are!

Hermione.

***

July 28

Hermione,

I'm sorry for the delay in response, I felt the need to calm down before I set quill to paper. I don't know how much more clear I can be. I am worried about you. Your last letter only increased that fear. What is the matter with you? Your letters have had a hint of you behind them, but something has definitely been wrong and as your future husband I'm begging you to let me in. If after this request you still refuse then I will not only continue, but increase the use of Legilimency until I find out what's going on. I'm sorry if you choose to make me go that route, but I will not have any qualms about doing so. I hope you understand I'm doing this because I love you more than anything in the world.

I love you.

Harry

***

July 29

Dearest Harry,

I was so excited to see Hedwig at the window I nearly cried. For days I thought you would never send her back. I got a letter from Ginny! She seems to be doing so well in her internship, she really loves it. You could feel the excitement hopping off the page and what's more I think she might've found someone at Witch Weekly. I don't know why, but I know Ginny, something is going on.

And you're right too, something is going on with me. Harry I don't know how to explain it, but I'm a wreck. I've been a wreck since I woke up in the hospital wing. It took sheer force of will not to allow you to see it at the end of last term. But since I've been home I haven't been able to control anything, to control myself.

I have always prided myself on being such a well-put-together witch. Self-sufficient, able to stand tough with you and Ron against the most evil dark wizard and still come out on top. I don't claim to be the poster child for a feminist witch, but I'm tough! I'm able to handle myself. And I'm scared to death. I don't know what's wrong with me Harry. One minute I'm hopping around on top of the world, the next I'm completely depressed. I got so angry the other day when my father was shouting at me that three plates in the cupboard exploded. I feel totally out of control and I don't understand any of it.

I'm not sleeping. It's worse when I sleep. Every night it's another dream. Krum, Voldemort, you, Ron, us; it makes no difference what the dream is but somehow or another you end up dead in the end of every one. The most disturbing ones start out warmly enough. I had a dream about our wedding night and it still ended with me stabbing you with Godric Gryffindor's sword!

I didn't see the need for both of us to be a wreck so I have been practicing Occlumency harder than ever. I'd like to think you didn't see one of these dreams until now because I'm getting better at it. Honestly, I can't believe I'm telling you but as I started to write, it just seems to keep coming out.

Harry, please help me. I'm so scared and I don't know what to do. Please tell me what to do I've never gone wrong with your guidance before. I'm not sleeping and my emotions are completely out of control.

Yours always,

Hermione

***

July 29

Dear Hermione,

It was so good to hear your voice on the phone tonight. I'm so sorry I called you so late, I know I must've woken your parents. But as soon as Hedwig returned I had to hear your voice, to talk to you if I could. Since then, Hedwig has been rather busy. I think I've sent an owl to everyone short of Mick Jagger and Elvis Presley. I'm dying to get out of here. I can't stand to hear what you're going through and not be there in person. I can't tell you how it broke my heart to hear you cry and not be able to hold you.

Dumbledore and I are failing to see eye to eye on this point. To say I'm a bit put out is an understatement. I don't understand his thinking, if he's thinking at all! Last year I was here for a total of two weeks before you came to get me. It's nearly August and he's showing NO signs of allowing me to leave! I have half a mind to grab my invisibility cloak and my Firebolt and I'd be to your side in less than an hour.

I think the Dursleys are as ready for me to be permanently out of their lives as I am. Vernon and Petunia got into a huge row the other night. They were entertaining yet another escapee from the camp for overweight executives. Apparently Vernon didn't think the house was clean enough that afternoon and let Petunia have it. I almost felt sorry for her…almost. Interestingly enough, it seemed cleaner than the museum standard she normally sets only an hour later. I have half a mind to corner her and demand to know the truth. Ever since she cottoned on about the dementors before our fifth year I've known something was awry in this house.

Just hold on a while longer Hermione. This separation will not last much longer. Even if Dumbledore doesn't agree, I will be with you soon. I promise you that.

All my love,

Harry

***

"He's getting restless. He's not going to wait there forever Dumbledore." Remus Lupin said quietly to the aging great wizard across the table.

The Order of the Phoenix was assembled in their new headquarters. For as much as Molly Weasley cared for the members of the Order, she missed having her home as merely, her home. Previously, the Order used Number 12 Grimmauld Place as their headquarters. However, since the passing of Sirius Black over a year ago, the door had sealed itself. The house would only open to its rightful owner. That owner had died saving Harry and the D.A. in the Department of Mysteries at the end of Harry's fifth year. Not even Dumbledore could convince the door to open and the Order was forced to find new headquarters. Molly and Arthur Weasley offered their home. All the Weasley children were either attending Hogwarts or out on their own, so privacy wasn't much of an issue during the school term. Dumbledore remained secret-keeper for its location and it seemed equally well-protected as the former headquarters had been.

"I'm aware of that Lupin." Dumbledore said quietly. Albus Dumbledore was one of the greatest wizards to ever grace the magical world. However, he was getting on in years. Although no one truly knew how old he was, the speculations ran from 134 to well over 200, it was clear he was growing tired.

"We have to tell him something," Lupin persisted.

"Remus, I don't think that's a good idea. He's still very young and many of these matters are not to be shared with those not already in the Order," Molly Weasley chimed in.

Over the course of the last few months, Molly had watched Lupin move into the spot of `Harry Potter's protector' that had been vacated by Sirius Black's death. He became the person adult wizards looked to when concerned for Harry. Honestly, it appeared a logical progression. Lupin was the last of the Marauders, if you don't count Peter Pettigrew, which none of them did. He was the last of James and Lily Potter's closest friends. It was not only logical, but almost expected, that Lupin assume the role Sirius had left behind. He filled the role so well, Molly Weasley had begun arguing with Lupin over Harry's welfare nearly as much as she had argued with Sirius Black. This conversation appeared to be no different.

"Molly, he's no longer the confused eleven year-old that can't figure out how to traverse the barrier to platform nine and three quarters." Lupin said while raising his hand to rub his throbbing temple.

"I didn't say he was!" Molly countered, the heat rising in her face.

"Then stop treating him that way! My heavens Molly he's faced down Voldemort more times than half the people in this room put together! He's not a child and he deserves to know what's going on!" Lupin snapped back.

"He's not even…" she began.

"…of age?" Lupin finished. "Check your calendar Molly, he will be tomorrow," he finished curtly.

Molly Weasley straightened her back and opened her mouth to retort but was stopped quickly by the ever-compromising Nyphandora Tonks.

"Okay, okay," she interrupted quietly, "we all know you both share a difference of opinion with regard to this subject. Let's just try and hear each other out without requiring the use of a memory charm for the muggles living 4 kilometers away, shall we?" she finished while stepping between where Remus sat and Molly stood.

Tonks was a newer member of the Order, comparatively speaking, but was as good as any. She was an Auror by trade, something Harry found to be even cooler than her multi-colored hair. She was also a metamorphmagus and today was sporting a lime green flowing coif that changed to pale lavender at the end of her long locks. She often refereed the tension that would erupt between Remus and Molly. Inwardly, she felt like the two of them were really competing less over Harry specifically and more over who would fill the vacant spot of "surrogate parent." Remus obviously saw the job as his, in the absence of the rest of the Marauders, and Molly seemed to see it more as a seniority issue. While Remus may've known Harry's parents and godfather well, Molly had known Harry since his first day to Hogwarts.

"Stay out of it Tonks," Lupin said as he cast a vaguely concealed glare in her direction.

"I will not Remus. You know I won't. Harry is important to everyone here and we all have our opinions. I'm not saying any one opinion is better than the other, but there's no harm in hearing them all out," she added softly. The melody of her voice always seemed to take the edge off Lupin's mood and his face softened as he returned his gaze to Dumbledore.

"I hear what you're saying, both of you," Lupin cast his glance back to Molly Weasley, still defiantly crossing her arms from the other side of the table, "I just think he needs to be told why he's stuck there before he decides to run off to Hermione on his own," he finished.

"It would be the worst time for that to happen," Arthur Weasley spoke for the first time in the conversation. He was sitting next to three of his sons. Bill, the eldest, had been a member of the Order for some time and Fred and George joined during the last year over the earth shattering objections of their mother. However, even to her begrudging admittance, the addition of the twin Weasleys was actually quite helpful to the Order. They owned what was likely the most profitable shop in Diagon Alley. Literally hundreds of wizards and witches graced the door of Weasleys Wizarding Weazes each day. Each customer brought their own conversation, which they rarely hushed, in the loud atmosphere of the shop. It provided the Order with another helpful, and abundant, source of information.

"It's a greater risk to him now if he leaves than it ever has been," George added in agreement with his father.

All the while, Albus Dumbledore sat quietly in his chair not appearing to be affected by the conversation one away or the other. Silence followed George's comment. Some of the Order glanced at each other and back to Dumbledore. They all seemed to feel it was his time to speak, yet for a long while he did nothing. Finally, he broke the eerie silence.

"I do not know that it's wise to tell him everything that has been happening," Dumbledore said, raising his eyes to the group assembled before him. It was the one sentence Remus Lupin was fearing he'd speak. In response, he jumped up from the table and stormed off toward the kitchen window. He did not fail to notice the relief breaking across Molly Weasley's face.

"I think that's wise Albus," Molly said with a hint of triumph in her voice.

"Well, I don't!" Lupin interrupted.

"Will someone owl the Daily Prophet please," snarled Mad-Eye Moody from a dark corner of the living room, "tell them we have earth-shattering news, Remus Lupin and Molly Weasley disagree!" he snapped, now rising to his feet to cross the room. He seemed thoroughly disinterested in the caustic glare both Remus and Molly were now throwing in his direction. "Regardless of the endless bickering we endure from these two Dumbledore, I must agree with Lupin. How can the boy protect himself from the growing threat if he isn't told some of the more important details? He at least needs to know about Damien…" his sentence was interrupted by a thud outside the kitchen door. In typical Moody style, he spun, with wand ready, toward the noise.

"Whoa! Hold onto your hip flask there Moody," Fred said, casting a glance to the door, and back to George. "We never did account for that last pair of extendables did we?" Fred added, pursing his lips and attempting to dodge the piercing glare that Molly was now directing toward him.