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 Late that evening, Ginny apparated an exhausted Harry back to Drover’s Haven. Most of the family was out on the porch awaiting their return, and George and Ron hurried to aid Ginny who was struggling to support most of Harry’s weight.


“Harry darling, how are you feeling?” Molly asked, worry creasing her forehead.


Harry just mumbled that he wanted to go to bed, as Ron and George half carried him into the house.


After he was inside, Ginny collapsed on the porch swing. “Well, that was something else!” 


“What happened?” Hermione asked. “You were gone for hours, your patronus only said that you’d gone to meet with Carl’s gran!” 


“Yes, we did.” Ginny said, accepting a cup of tea from Fleur. “It was incredible, she spotted what was wrong with Harry straight off. We never even had to explain it to her. She spent about a quarter of an hour chatting with him, and then put him into some kind of trance. She did a fair bit of chanting, it must have been an aboriginal language, because I didn’t recognize a word of it.” 


Ginny sipped at her tea, and continued. “After ages, she woke Harry back up again, and asked him about some of his other injuries. When she found out I’d been looking after him since the battle, she asked me to come in and talk with her.”


At this point, Ginny began to sound excited, “She’s going to train me how to help her. She says I’m a natural healer; that healers aren’t made, they’re born! I helped for the rest of the night!”


Hermione smiled slightly, “That’s great Ginny, does that mean Harry is cured?”


“No, not yet.” Ginny explained. “There isn’t really a cure, exactly, more like... teaching Harry to find himself in the void. Trilby, Carl’s gran, was pretty appalled that he’d been exposed for so long.”  


Molly looked relieved. “I’m just happy there’s someone that knows how to help him, because I didn’t even know where to begin.” 


Bill nodded, and chimed in “Yes, he just hasn’t been himself since the battle. Obviously we are all dealing with the after effects, but with Harry it seems so much deeper.” 


“Yes, and he won’t be the same person he was before the horcrux was removed.” Ginny explained. “We don’t know how much of his personality was him, and how much was Riddle.”


George grinned. “Well, that explains the temper!”


Ron frowned, “I don’t think so George. He still has a temper, it’s just gotten a longer fuse.” 


The family sat about the porch until it got too cold to stay out, and then slowly dispersed for bed. 


Hermione woke early the next morning. Determined to make it downstairs on her own, she got into her brace and picked up her crutches. She made her way slowly to the door, careful not to wake Ginny. 


She made it down the stairs in once piece, and practiced maneuvering around the sitting room. She was determined to find her parents as soon as possible, and she didn’t want them to have to deal with her learning to walk on top of everything else. It was going to be hard enough explaining the war to them, much less her injury.


Deciding that she should try walking on uneven ground, she made her way outside, and onto the lawn. Hermione didn’t notice Harry sitting on the porch reading. He glanced up and watched Hermione pace back and forth over the grass; she was getting quicker, more confident.


Hermione decided to try walking with one crutch, rather than two. Placing it on her bad side, she leant the other against a tree. She instantly felt much better, having a free had to use her wand. She made her way slowly about the yard, doing fine until she caught her crutch in a rabbit hole and toppled over. 


Harry sprang from his seat, and rushed to help her.


“Oh Harry!” Hermione gasped, as he scooped her up. “Where did you come from?” 


“The porch.” Harry said simply, carrying Hermione over to a chair and carefully setting her down. He retrieved her crutches and lay them down at her feet.


“I was hoping to be a bit faster by the time we found mum and dad.” She mumbled, kicking the crutches with her good foot. 


“Well, I don’t know about faster, but I do have an idea for your brace.” Harry said, picking up his wand. He closed his eyes, did a complicated wand movement, and the brace disappeared. 


“How did you do that?” Hermione yelled, “I’ve tried everything, it simply wont look properly disillusioned!”


“I found it in one of my books, it’s a transfiguration spell.” Harry explained. “It’s transfiguring the brace to match whatever material is underneath it.”


Hermione twisted this way and that trying to spot a gap in the spell. “It’s perfect! What is the spell? You did it non-verbally!” 


Harry’s face scrunched up a bit, “Yeah, I... I haven’t been able to do it verbally.” He looked at the ground. “Actually, I haven’t been able to do a verbal spell all morning.” 


Hermione glanced at him. “What do you mean?”


“Normal spells, things like accio, I can only do them properly non-verbally.” Harry explained. “And look...” He set his wand down and raised his hand up palm out; with a twitch of his wrist, the book that had been sitting on the railing flew into his hand.


Hermione didn't speak for a moment, and then asked quietly "Harry, can you do any other spells without a wand?"


Harry twitched his wrist again and the book floated up over their heads. He let it drop down to the table, and transfigured it into a bouquet of flowers, which he then summoned a vase for and filled it with what appeared to be the aquamenti charm, but Hermione couldn't be sure because he didn't say a word. 


"Harry, how long have you been able to control your wandless magic?" Hermione asked, her voice misleadingly calm.


"I'm not really sure." Harry said.


"Harry, that's... that's really unusual." She stammered, "You know I did a paper on wand less magic for McGonagall for extra credit fifth year." 


Harry chuckled. "What would you possibly have needed extra credit for?"


"Well it never hurts to be prepared!" Hermione sniffed. "But seriously Harry, do you know how rare that is?"


Harry shook his head. "Speaking parsel tongue is unusual and I can do that."


"Yes, but that's just uncommon." Hermione explained. "There's hundreds of people who can speak parsel tongue. There's been three on record wandless wizards in the written history of our kind." 


"No, that doesn't make sense! Kids do wandless magic all the time!" Harry countered.


"Yes! Uncontrolled, unintentional magic. But to be able to control it like you can! That's one in a billion Harry." Hermione whispered. "You shouldn't let anyone see you doing that. Two of the three people were taken into custody by the Department of Mysteries. They weren't seen again."  


“What happened to them?” Harry asked quietly. 


“Nobody knows.” Hermione said. “They were both born hundreds years ago. Logically, I assume they both died there. The Department of Mysteries wanted to study them.”


Harry considered this for several moments, before asking, “Well what happened to the third one?”


“He was around before the Department of Mysteries existed.” Hermione explained. “It was Godric Gryffindor, Harry.” 


Harry looked at the ground and then picked up his wand, twirling it between his fingers he grinned. “Well, at least it wasn’t Slytherin! People would start up with the ‘Slytherin’s heir’ rubbish all over!”


Hermione smiled at him. “I’ll do some more research.” 


“There’s nothing for it Hermione.” Harry said, with a sad smile. “I just won’t do it in public.”


Hermione nodded thoughtfully, “Perhaps Carl’s gran might know more.” 


But Harry didn’t want to discuss it any more. He was tired of always being different. “Come on, let’s get you down to one crutch. That way, when we find your parents it will be less obvious!”


They practiced for the rest of the morning until Hermione was comfortable with a single crutch on flat surfaces. 

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