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Disclaimer: Am I evil? Yes I am. Dream Theater lyrics belong to Dream Theater. I don't Harry Potter or the Harry Potter universe. Wish I did, but my 3rd level dwarf sorcerer doesn't know that spell.



Chapter 6: About to Crash(Reprise)

I'm alive again
The darkness lies behind me
I'm invincible
Despair will never find me

--Dream Theater "About to Crash (Reprise)"





The train traveled for what seemed like several hours. Just as he began to ponder what to expect when the train reached its destination, atunnel loomed ahead. As blackness swallowed the train, Harry woke to see everyone sitting around moping. He sat up and asked, "Who died?"



The world disappeared behind a curtain of brown hair as the air was forced from his lungs. "Let him breathe, Hermione. He just cheated death for crying out loud!" He heard Ron exclaim.



Already memories of his second chance were beginning to fade, along with his vision of the here and now. It was almost a minute before she relaxed her grip enough that he could breath normally. He sat there for afew seconds catching his breath before he flipped on the WWN receiver and struggled to contain a laugh at the song playing at the moment. It was "Dead Again" by Type O Negative. Try as he might, he couldn't restrain the chuckle that escaped his lips.



"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, her voice muffled by his neck.



"Nothing," he said. Hermione pulled back far enough to stare at him.



Harry gave an exasperated sigh and waved at the receiver. "It's just that this is the second time I've 'died' and returned to the land of the living." He looked back up at her eyes. "You think I'm crazy don't you?"



Hermione was about to respond when Ron said, "I know I've told you my theory on sanity before. Sanity is an illusion. Everyone is crazy; it's just a matter of how crazy you are. Normality is the same wa--"



Hermione cut him off mid-syllable, "Yes, well, that's quite enough from you," Hermione said. "It's times like this that I wonder if the last fourteen years may have actually had a negative effect on you, Ron," she continued, smirking, though her eyes had not left Harry's.



Harry smiled, saying,"I know what you mean." He turned to Ron, "Sometimes I miss Ron the idiot, too," Ron scowled at this, "but not often."



Harry looked around at those gathered. He saw Jonas standing off to the side, near Jenna and another girl. He continued to sweep the room and saw the male Weasleys scattered throughout; at the foot of his bed he saw James, Albus, and Lily; Ron was near his head on the right, with Neville on the left. What surprised him most was the woman seated next to Neville. She was a pale woman, with huge silvery eyes. He had always felt that she was possessed of a haunting beauty, but now all he could think of when he looked into her eyes was how haunted she looked. He was about to ask her if she was okay when his eyes fell once more on his oldest daughter, and realized that something about the way she looked had been bothering him. In that same instant he knew what it was.



To someone who didn't know Jenna's secret, it looked like her friend was lending her moral support. Harry didn't doubt that that was part of what was going on, but he knew instantly that this girl was closer to his daughter than any mere friend.



------



It was just over a year ago, a couple of days after the end of her fifth year, Jenna had flooed over to visit him. She asked if they could speak in private, and they retired to his study. She seemed nervous, reluctant to speak.



Harry decided to break the silence. "Is there something wrong?"



This was apparently the wrong thing to say. She froze, not moving a muscle, barely even breathing; her eyes were wide with surprise--or was it fear? "Wrong?" she squeaked. She cleared her throat and this time her voice almost came out right,"What makes you thing that something's wrong?"



"Well for one thing, you seem nervous and jumpy," he grinned here. It was a toothy grin, predatory. "For another, no one ever asks that when nothing is wrong." His grin faded and was replaced by an expression of concern. "But seriously, tell me what's going on." He patted the space next to him on the couch he had in his study. It was an old-fashioned leather couch, hard as a rock with the leather pulled tight by buttons, more like a leather covered bench than a couch. Harry had never liked it, but Ginny had insisted upon it. He did have to admit that it looked nice, but he still wondered what the point was in owning furniture that no one wanted to use.



"Could you put aprivacy charm on the room, please?" Jenna asked. She still seemed reluctant to tell him what was bothering her.



"There already is. It's permanent; since Ginny can't stand the music I listen to. She even called Dream Theater--and I quote--'instrumental wankery,'" he shook his head. "So anyway, enough stalling, out with it; what's eating you?"



She seemed to flush at the turn of phrase, but he thought nothing of it. They sat there for a few minutes with nothing being said. Harry was prepared to wait her out. She had always turned to him first with her problems. He was drawn from his reverie by his daughter stirring next to him, gathering her determination. He waited for a few more seconds until...



"Ithinkimightbealesbian." It came out as one word.



For a moment Harry thought he'd misunderstood. All he could say was, "Pardon?"



His oldest daughter, his pride and joy, hesitated and when she spoke up again it was in a weak, almost scared voice. "I said that I...I think I m-might be a...be a l-lesbian," this last word was whispered.



He was at a loss for words. When he didn't say anything for over a minute and a half she said in a quiet voice, "When you disown me, could you at least come up with an excuse that doesn't involve outing me to the public?" She stood to leave.



Harry finally found his voice. "Why the hell would Idisown you?"



She stopped halfway to the door. "I don't know, but you'll think of something. I have faith in you." She continued towards the door.



"No, that's not what I meant, and you know it," he said, causing her to stop again, her hand resting on the door handle. "Why would I disown you just because your type happens to be the same as your brother's?"



She looked lost and confused, almost as if she was expecting anger and spite, and their absence was throwing her off. "Maybe because you're embarr--"



"Why should Ibe?" Harry asked evenly. "Luna, my best friend that happens to not be a Weasley or your mother, thought she was a lesbian for years until she met her husband. I never--never--thought any less of her for it, nor do I think any less of you. You are what you are. You just have to live with it," he enfolded his daughter in a comforting embrace.



"Could you not tell anyone about this?" Jenna asked. She was weeping with relief.



"You know you can trust me," Harry said. He suddenly had a thought. He held his daughter at arms length and favored her with a mischievous grin. "Only one problem with you being a lesbian, and it is amajor one."



He paused here, waiting for her to react. When she didn't rise to the bait, he continued. "The problem is really quit simple. It's a well-known fact that fathers of teenage girls take perverse pleasure in threatening their daughter's boyfriends whenever they first meet them. I can't very well make the same threats to another teenage girl. I do feel cheated that I don't get to have that experience with you, especially since you're my favorite," Harry said, meaning every word, and he could tell that she knew he was telling the truth. "Just do me a favor and don't tell the rest of them I said that that, since as a parent I'm not supposed to have favorites."



------



Harry pulled himself from his remembrances and greeted the pale, blond woman with the silvery eyes. "It's good to see you again, Luna. It's been what, ten years?" Those haunted eyes softened as she leaned in to give him a friendly embrace, but the haunted expression returned full force after she pulled back.



"Eleven, actually," she said, barely sounding herself. Her voice was lacking that dreamy quality that made her such an intriguing person. Something bad must have happened, as Harry couldn't remember a time when she'd sounded so...so/normal/. Normal by most people's standards, that is. Strangely, or maybe not so strangely, she sounded weirder like this. Neville seemed a little uncomfortable standing next to her, but Harry wondered how much of that was the expression on her face and how much was the effect she'd always had on him.



"How's your husband, er, what's-his-name?" Harry asked. He'd only met the guy once, at their wedding, and he hadn't liked him. Harry thought that the guy had been being a bit of an ass.



Hermione started to correct Harry, when Luna rounded on her, eyes flashing with anger, voice dripping with bitterness, "Don't you dare say that...that fucking bastard's name in my presence!" Everyone who'd known her when she was younger was startled by her use of such language.



"W-What happened?" Hermione asked, taken aback. "I don't mean to be rude, but perhaps you should vent."



Luna seemed to calm down alittle bit. "Well, shortly after we moved to Boise--it's in the U.S.--he started to become distant. He would say he was going out with friends and come back smelling like he had just showered," she said, still sounding bitter but not taking it out on anybody. "I thought this was odd. After about six months of him doing this at least once a week, I started putting tracking charms on him every time he left the house. He always found them--until a week ago. I guess he got careless, it doesn't really matter," she paused, taking a deep breath.



"He was in bed with another woman," she paused, shaking her head, wiping tears from her eyes. "He said it was an accident, as if he'd tripped and there just happened to be a naked woman to break his fall!"



Harry found the hair on his neck standing on end, and he knew that Luna was dangerously close to critical mass. Luna was perhaps the second most powerful witch of their generation, after Hermione, and Harry was afraid that if she didn't calm down soon he would find himself lying on a large, not so fresh ocean fish. He remembered the last time it happened, back at the end of his first marriage.



The magic in the air continued to build, and all Harry could think to say was, "Please don't turn my bed into a rotting fish!"



That had the desired effect. Magic in the room dropped to normal levels, while Luna looked down at him with a puzzled look on her face. When she spoke she sounded like her old self, even through the puzzlement, "Why would I do that?"



Harry snuck a glance around the room. Ron, Hermione and Neville were shaking with silent laughter, Jenna was whispering into her"friend's" ear, Jonas was grinning at him, and the rest were looking at him with various looks of puzzlement. Seeing that no one else was willing to explain, he sighed and said, "It's just that the last time I was this close to a woman who was this angry about her crumbling marriage, while at the same time laying in bed, I ended up laying on agrouper, and it wasn't exactly fresh. I was so tired I had to take the twins and spend the night at Neville's flat. Crookshanks wouldn't leave the room during that last month that he was there."



This made Luna smile, even coaxed a little chuckle from her lips--something Harry had not thought her capable of. As far back as Harry could remember Luna had always been dead serious, with the occasional laughing fits that scared most people. "You're kidding," she said.



Hermione was shaking her head. "No," she said through the laughter, "he's not." Luna just shook her head.



Hermione paused, almost wistful. "It did make the make-up sex awkward though," she said.



Her four children chorused,"Mo-om!" to which Jenna added, "I cannot believe you just said that!" Harry's three from his marriage to Ginny just made faces.



Harry noticed the incredulous looks on the faces of the adults and said, "It's true. Between the smell--you wouldn't believe how difficult it is to get rid of the smell of a magically produced fish--between the smell and the cat staring at me from the nightstand, I had trouble getting it up--much less keeping it up." He had the pleasure of seeing his oldest daughter run shrieking from the room, her face almost the color of her hair, the other girl, Jonas, Rose, Lily, Hugo, Albus and James following close at her heels. He couldn't help but laugh.



"So what'd I miss while I was...out of it?" Harry asked. He had almost said 'dead to the world,' but thought better of it at the last instant.



Hermione hesitated. "Well..."



"Hermione challenged Ginny to an honor duel, for one thing," Ron interrupted.



"When was this?" Luna asked.



"Night before last," Ron replied.



"Oh, please tell me this duel involves naked mud wrestling!" Harry exclaimed half seriously. Noticing the strange looks he got--mostly from the Weasleys--he added,"It'd kinda boring if it was just a straight up duel of magical prowess. Not to mention very, very short."



There was an awkward silence, broken only by the sound of people shifting in their seats. Harry suddenly realized that Hermione had not moved from his lap since he'd woken.



"So, anyway, how long was I out for?" Harry asked.



"About fifty-three hours," came a voice from the door.



Harry turned to look and saw Eloise Midgen trailed by an unfamiliar elderly man. The man wore a badge identifying him as Patrick Ferguson, Department of Mysteries.



"So what'd you do to scare those kids, anyway? The first two were shrieking like Voldemort himself was on their heels--and I've never seen anyone run like that in high heels before," Eloise said. She shook her head, "The others at least weren't running, but they were definitely in a hurry to get away."



The man standing behind her cleared his throat. "Oh, and this is Patrick Ferguson. He's an expert on subconscious magic from the department of Mysteries. He'd like to ask you a few questions before I move you back to the regular hospital wing."



"Do I have achoice?" Harry asked.



"Not really, no. Asking you was just a formality," the man said.



"Then let's get this over with."



------



Two hours later Harry was returned to the hospital wing. The questioning had been grueling, and the man hadn't stopped until Harry had snapped and started cussing him out in every language he knew. All he wanted to do was sleep. But Eloise had other ideas for him. The squib psychiatrist had arrived that morning, and for the next hour the psychiatrist, a rather attractive woman of Middle Eastern descent who'd introduced herself as Sally, asked him a few questions about what had transpired over the last nineteen years, but mostly whenever he finished an anecdote, she'd ask him what he thought about it or how he felt about it. In the end she gave him prescriptions for an antidepressant and an anti-psychotic.



Only after Sally had left did Eloise give him one final checkup, and pronounced him stable enough to return to his quarters--as long as he had someone with him at all times.



Harry got his daughter to escort him back to his quarters. Her'friend' was still following silently in her wake. When the door to Harry's apartment shut behind him he gave the girl an appraising look. She was tall--taller than Harry--with jet-black hair, and a dark complexion. She looked vaguely familiar.



"Dad," Jenna said nervously, "this is Carrie--"



"Jordan, right?" Harry asked the girl.



She nodded. "How could you tell?" she asked, her voice still not quite mature. Not surprising, since she was about two years younger than Jenna.



"I knew your mother...biblically," he said and enjoyed the seeing her shift uncomfortably.



"/Da-a-ad/!" Jenna whined.



"What I was going to say before my rude daughter interrupted me is that you have her eyes, and her lips," he said. He turned serious. "My condolences, by the way," he added.



Just over a year ago, Padma and Parvati had been in India visiting relatives when the turmoil in the Middle East that had burned Mecca and much of Israel to a radioactive crisp spilled over into the subcontinent. The first suicide bomb went off across the street from the cafe where they were eating lunch. Shrapnel had sliced through Parvati's throat, bleeding her out long before emergency services ever reached the cafe. Padma had survived, though she was now paralyzed from the waist down. Her right arm had had to be amputated just above the wrist, and her left hand was missing most of its index and ring fingers, and all of the middle finger. If she had just been gotten to a healer soon enough, her injuries could have been fixed without leaving amark. Unfortunately, severed and amputated limbs did not grow back, and after a day, not even magic can restore feeling to paralyzed limbs.



"Mother always considered death to be just another new beginning," the girl said.



"By the way, I'm sorry if my comment about 'knowing' your mother upset you," Harry said. He had honestly forgotten for that instant about what had happened to Parvati.



"Not at all. Mother always spoke very highly of you. She was very proud to have known you...biblically," Carrie responded, a hint of a smile gracing her delicate features.



They adjourned to his sitting room. As soon as they were all sitting comfortably, he turned to Carrie once more and said, "Now, about you dating my daughter," he said.



Carrie shot Jenna astartled look. Jenna gave her alook that said either I didn't tell him, or I don't know what he's talking about.



"What makes you think we're going out, Dad?" Jenna asked weakly.



"Well for one, your body language isn't that of two friends sitting together. Close, very close, but there are a few subtle clues, such as the fact you've been holding hands since we left the hospital wing, and the way you were leaning against Carrie when I woke up--you were too comfortable," Harry said.



"Wow, you figured it out just from that?" Carrie marveled.



"I had a hunch. I wasn't sure until after I asked about it. You see, Jenna is a horrible liar," Harry said. "Whenever she's put on the spot about something, she asks the person putting her on the spot 'what makes you think etc.'" he pitched his voice to a vague imitation of Jenna's voice, "What makes you think we're dating? What makes you think I stole ten galleons from your money pouch? What makes you think I switched Ginny's birth control with laxatives? You get the picture."



"So what would you have done if you were wrong?" Carrie asked.



"Well, first I would have paused awkwardly, wondering how I misread the signs, then I would have wondered whether or not Jenna had already told you she was a lesbian, while at the same time trying to turn the whole thing into a joke, most likely failing miserably, resulting in me altering your memory so you didn't remember the conversation," he paused. "I glad I didn't have to take that route, as I've never quite mastered memory charms. Last time I used it--this was still during auror training, mind you--all I wanted to do was make a muggle informant forget that he gave information. His identity was completely erased; all he knew how to do was drive. Last I heard he was working on a muggle television program about cars. Of course that was almost five years ago. The program has since been canceled."



"I'm glad you're right too," the girl said as she put her arm around Jenna and gave her a one armed hug.



The three of them talked for the next hour, though for the most part it was Harry telling embarrassing stories about Jenna, with Jenna hiding her face in her hands, begging Harry to stop. Hermione and Ron showed up at the end of the hour, and for another hour after that they told their own embarrassing stories about Jenna, until she finally couldn't take anymore and left with Carrie.



"So that's her girlfriend?" Hermione asked.



Harry didn't know what to say. "What makes you think that?" he said weakly.



"Well for one, you have the same tell as her, and for another, they were too touchy feely to be just friends," Hermione said.



"H-how did you know that she--"



"Was a lesbian? I found a porno magazine under her mattress this summer. There wasn't a single picture of a man to be found in it," Hermione said.



"Wait," Harry said, "she's only seventeen. Either the store she got it from forgot to check her ID, or she stole it."



"It wasn't a muggle magazine, Harry," she said in an exasperated tone.



"Oh," Harry said. "So you don't have a problem with Jenna being a lesbian?" Harry asked.



"No, but I am wondering why you don't seem surprised," Hermione said.



"She told me herself last summer," Harry replied.



Hermione huffed, but she didn't push the subject. Though it didn't seem fair that both of her daughters were closer to their respective fathers than they were to her, she had gotten over it a long time ago.



"Anyway, I had areason for bringing Ron along. I've made my decision. Ron, you know Ilove you, I really do, but I love Harry more." Hermione said, voice cracking with emotion.



"Though I can't honestly say I'm happy about it, I would've been surprise if you'd made any other decision," Ron said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get reacquainted with my right hand." With that he stood and left.



"I feel kind of bad for him," Harry said after the door had closed on his best friend.



Hermione leaned in for akiss, "You shouldn't," she said just before their lips met, her voice a silky purr.



Harry raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and why is that," he muttered against her lips.



"I'll show you why."



And she did. All night long.



------



A/N: I hope you like it. There's only one chapter left before the epilogue, or rather Grand Finale. So has anyone guessed where the chapter titles came from yet? I mean other than "Some Dream Theater songs." It will probably be a while before I get the next chapter done, though Ican say it will probably focus on Ginny, or at least feature her more prominently than previous chapters.



And to answer people who wonder where my info about Bipolar comes from, I'm Bipolar, I have a cousin who's Bipolar, and I've read up on Bipolar. Though it's rare, some people with Bipolar can go from depressive to manic and back to depressive rather quickly.



And Istand by my pledge to stop posting stories on Ficwad after I've finished posting the two I've already posted, unless the admin can get his or her act together and fix the posting/editing process.



Questions? Comments? Plotholes? Just type them up in a review and I'll try to get back to you.