Harry Potter and the Dreamer Awakened (Part 12 - Finale)

Harry Potter and the Dreamer Awakened (Part 12 - Finale)

"I said I was sorry!"

"And I'm pleased you did. This does not change my decision. Or your Mother's."

"Aw, come on!"

Asriel was sulking on the freshly painted bench outside the old house. Frisk sat next to him.

"But Dad," They said. ", up to the last day of school? Isn't that harsh?"

Asgore delicately pulled a weed from among the flowers. "Perhaps a little. But then perhaps Asriel should have thought about that before."

"I didn't mean it!" Asriel was half frustrated, half remorseful. "I was nervous about the test, and I had a headache which Mom herself said was likely my horns getting ready to bud. It was an accident when I bumped into Sally-"

"And when you yelled at her? And shoved her and cursed at her even after she fell down?"

Only remorse remained. "I know I shouldn't have done it. I just reacted on instinct. It's hard sometimes."

"I know, Son. And so does your Mother. That's why you only got a week’s detention now, without another week once school starts again. Such are the dangers of having a parent at your school. They cannot afford to go soft on you."

Such incidents as they were discussing had been a somewhat regular occurrence in the months after the Barrier Festival, perhaps every one or two weeks. Asriel's genuine remorse after such outbursts had initially stayed Toriel's hand somewhat, but after the fifth one both parents worried that the son of both the Headmistress and the King getting off lightly was setting a terrible example. It had been Frisk who took Hermione's advice and suggested they try a human therapist. Asriel himself wanted to try it too, and Toriel agreed, under the proviso that there would be no holding back on her part for misbehaviour.

Asriel's physical appearance had perhaps been the least difficult part for the therapist to wrap his head around. Other monsters had approached him independently, and their problems were not so bizarre that he couldn't offer advice and techniques. The hard part was getting him to understand why Asriel needed help. This was a mixture of reluctance to discuss the full story with him from all four Dreemurrs, and the few parts he could pry from them seemed utterly unbelievable devoid of their proper context.

It had taken something of a summit where Frisk of all people managed to boil it down into terms he could understand: Asriel suffered a traumatic experience - dying certainly counted as that - and he reacted to it by cutting himself off from his feelings. Asriel was surprised and almost grateful when the therapist reassured him that humans could do that too. And after he stopped feeling, he started lashing out at everyone. And then Asriel met a friend who helped him reconnect with those feelings, only now he felt awful for how he behaved, and he had picked up habits he wanted to control.

Unpacking his guilt was particularly hard at first. The therapist had consistently restated that full honesty would make his sessions be more effective, and Asriel couldn't bring himself to say 'I killed my mother' in front of him, both out of the weight of the act itself and the presence of the very alive Toriel which would contradict him. So most of the time he resorted to saying 'I lashed out', or 'I attacked', which was almost as hard to say, but he felt was able to communicate his remorse for it all the same.

The therapist talked about making amends, and in time Asriel fully understood why Flowey continued to tear at him. The people he needed to make amends with technically no longer existed. Even if he had run around town explaining what he did and apologising, it wouldn't bring him true closure, because he hadn't really done anything to those he'd be apologising to. Again this was hard to impart to the therapist, who had to be satisfied with the assumption that Asriel's guilt was disproportionate to his earlier offences. Fortunately his recommendations for either scenario were similar. It involved a lot of introspective soul searching about his base assumptions, and really thinking about the validity of them. One red flag identified early on was an internalised conclusion that Asriel was undeserving of forgiveness, and it was this they worked at overturning the most.

Unpacking Flowey's habits was more straightforward. The therapist had interviewed him about his previous outbursts and made notes about what led up to them. And then he encouraged him to keep a journal for every time it happened again. This eventually revealed a pattern Asriel already half-knew, that it was most likely to happen when he was stressed out, and with the same introspection he applied to Asriel's guilt, they were able to tease out what it was about the spark that made him react. A base assumption extracted from this was that Asriel should never get angry, which meant when he did get angry it was all the worse. In the therapist's words, anger meant bad. In Asriel's mind, anger meant Flowey. So they had worked on properly expressing frustration to prevent a buildup of tension that could lead to outbursts.

It was a lot of work, with a lot of time spent on self reflection and examining journals and exploring painful memories in a somewhat roundabout manner. But around the start of the new year, Asriel and his family could see the benefits as he became more practiced at thinking about how he thought. The rate of Flowey-related nightmares had declined, though never truly gone, something Asgore could sympathise with. And the incident he had just been punished for was only his third of that year, contrasted with the dozen or so before that. Not that he didn't occasionally drop an unintended rude remark every now and then, but nothing that required a visit to the Headmistress. Asgore was so impressed and relieved that he actually started having private sessions with the therapist too. However he chose to discuss his own issues, Frisk and Asriel never learned. They had enough on their plates with Asriel’s problems.

Asgore replanted a flower he had moved to get access at the soil. "Have you been practising the de-escalation techniques you told me about?"

"Yeah! Well, mostly. I got busy studying for the test and then..."

"I see. Then perhaps your error was not made in the hallway, it was at home when you chose poor priorities."

Asriel rolled his eyes. "Right. Because Mom would have been thrilled if I failed that test." Covering his less charitable impulses in sarcasm had been a more organic coping mechanism he had cultivated.

The King adjusted his sun hat. "You are doing no justice to your Mother's priorities. A few extra marks on a test is not worth putting the progress you have made at risk."

"Dad's right." Frisk chipped in. "And, well, you were really rough towards Sally."

Asriel exhaled. "I know. I feel terrible. I guess there's a selfish part of me who thinks that's punishment enough. That's wrong."

Asgore had moved to extracting more weeds from the garden path. "I am glad you see it that way. Our actions will always have consequences, even if only for ourselves. And to be blunt, school is your Mother's domain. Even if I were inclined to meddle with her decisions, that would probably precipitate a civil war."

The three of them laughed. And so did a fourth person.

"yeah, i'd be pretty war-ried if it came to that."

"SANS! Don't do that! We're discussing...personal stuff."

"oh, that stuff i've been working really hard not to listen to? sorry, cap."

Asgore had gotten a bucket of water and was washing the large rock. "You're here a little earlier than I planned, Sans, but it's good you're here."

"Why are you here, Sans?" Asked Frisk.

"Because there is more on my mind today than school policy. If I may ask, Sans, how did the first meeting of the Barrier Festival committee go?"

"You're on the committee?" Asriel smirked disbelievingly. "What are you in charge of?"

"catering. i bring snacks to cater for their arguments."

"So there wasn't much agreement?" Probed Asgore.

"Those committees usually only agree to disagree." Shrugged Asriel without much interest.

"i wasn't really listening." he extracted a piece of paper. "according to the minutes they're going with last year's plan as a baseline."

"Hmm, that will do in a pinch, but it would be nice to mix things up."

Frisk raised an eyebrow. "Why don't you tell them that in person, Dad?"

"Well, why don't you?"

Both children looked puzzled, then surprised. Asriel broke for cover first, green eyes wide with excitement.

"You mean you want us to-?"

"Yes. Clearly some sort of arbitration is needed or nothing will get done. They'll probably listen to you just as readily as me. And perhaps it's good practice for leading us one day."

"Oh, wow! That's amazing! Thank you Dad, I won't let you down!"

Frisk was heartened by Asriel's joy. "Neither will I!"

"That's the spirit. And I believe-" He got to his feet with a grunt. "-I'm finished here."

Everyone walked round to where he was. The headstone of Aurelian Orbis' grave was spotless, the Delta Rune quite visible on it. A thin line of dark stone now marked the approximate location of his body, which was still blanketed in golden flowers. On the dark stone rested vases of different flowers and tokens of well wishes with messages of thanks scribbled on them from monsters. It complemented the wider garden, which while not looking much different from when Frisk first saw it, definitely had an air of being actively tended. Indeed, keeping the garden and the house in good shape had been a project of Asgore's, not long after he began his own therapy. He had explained it was the only way he could show gratitude for the sacrifice.

"You've done a good job, Dad." Said Asriel softly. "I don't think he'd ever have expected this."

"All the more reason to do it, son." Mused Asgore. "Now, shall I return you to your mother's for dinner-"

As part of tidying up the house, Asgore had painted and oiled the gate. That meant nobody heard it until it shut again.

The four of them turned round. A human was calmly walking up the path towards them. Bald, black and broad shouldered, he wore an impeccable navy suit, but also curiously a gold hoop earring. He stopped a few paces from them, and Frisk could see he was tall. Asgore only outpaced him by maybe a foot, not counting the horns. As he appraised them with a methodical but good natured manner, Frisk's mind was racing. No other human in Ebott had ever noticed this house. Did that mean...?

"Oh, er, howdy!" Asgore finally broke the silence. "Can I help you, sir?"

"You are Asgore Dreemurr, correct?" His voice was almost as deep as Asgore's, and had a calm reassuring air to it.

"Uh, y-yes. What can I do for you?"

The man gave a deep respectful bow, and then cleared his throat.

"I, Kingsley Shacklebolt, duly appointed Minister for Magic of Great Britain, do hereby offer terms of parley to the King of the Monsters."

This declaration hung in the air. Asriel was looking in amazement at him. Frisk was returning his expression of stoic appraisal. Sans' expression was unreadable. Asgore was in the middle of trying to pull off his gloves.

"Oh. Well, that's very nice of you, Minister Shacklebolt. Perhaps we should go to-"

"heya."

Sans had walked towards Kingsley, sizing him up.

"you might be forgetting something, mister minister. unless things aren't going so great back home?"

Kingsley returned his evaluating posture, and then smiled.

"Ah, yes. It slipped my mind. I must apologise."

He reached into his jacket, and fished out a small scrap of parchment. He read without embarrassment.

"I, Kingsley Shacklebolt, duly appointed Minister for Magic of Great Britain, am the Legendary Fartmaster."

Asriel giggled, and Frisk smiled with relief.

"heh-heh. okay, we're cool, your majesty. he's all yours."

"A moment, your majesty."

Kingsley now walked over to the two children.

"You are Asriel and Frisk Dreemurr?" They nodded curiously. "I have something for you."

He reached into his jacket again, and took out an envelope with a notable lump.

"Our mutual friend asked me to show you this, then I’d return it to him." He continued to smile.

Asriel took the envelope and gingerly opened it. He pulled out a piece of parchment, and then-

"Oh!"

Asgore looked politely puzzled at his children’s reaction. In Asriel’s fuzzy hand lay a golden snitch. Only now it was open along a previously invisible hinge, its inside quite hollow. Frisk took the parchment and read it.

Frisk and Asriel,

Figured it out a few days ago. Glad it helped you so much. Just thought you should know it’s gone now. Probably for the best. Lots going on here, but maybe we’ll make time for the Festival. We’ll bring friends. See you then!

Harry, Ron and Hermione

All Asriel could think of in his surprise was that it was good he’d have finished his detention by then.

****

The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well.

"Right then," Said Ron, as the smoke from the scarlet steam engine began to dissipate. ", we'd better be headed on. Hugo here still needs to make sure everything's ready for muggle school tomorrow."

Hugo didn't think much of this notion, clearly wishing he could have gone on the train. Young Lily's expression sympathised with him. Ginny was smiling at both of them.

"Okay," Said Harry. ", we were headed over to Diagon Alley to pick up a few things before tomorrow and then-"

"Mister Potter?"

A young witch with curly brown hair and in Ministry robes, clearly not out of Hogwarts very long, had spotted the group and was marching towards them. She was extracting an envelope from her robes.

"Sorry to bother you, sir. The Department of International Magical Co-operation asked me to give you this."

"Oh, thank you." He took the envelope from her. She nodded, glanced briefly at his scar, and disapparated. He opened it to find a letter, written on paper rather than parchment.

Lily looked up as he scanned the letter. "What is it, Dad?"

Harry smiled wryly. "Seems there's a change of plans. The Ebott delegation have wrapped up their meeting with the Prime Minister early, and someone suggested an informal get together before tomorrow's tour of the Ministry."

"Really?" Lily frowned. "I know you have to organise security for wizards from other countries and things like that, but why can't you let someone else do it on your day off?"

"Oh Lily, you've gotten it wrong." Said Ginny, as she glanced at the letter. "Your father isn't in charge of security this time. He's a guest. We all are."

Ron snatched the letter from Harry, who watched as a grin spread on his face.

"Excellent! Hugo, here's a top tip from Dad: Never say no to a free lunch."

Hermione pursed her lips. "Is it a good idea to bring the children along? Maybe we should nip over to the Burrow with Floo Powder, ask your Mum and Dad if they can watch them."

"Hermione, think about who this is for." Ginny had a cavalier attitude to the development. "Do you think they'll care? Probably makes a nice change from talking to stuffy ministry folk."

The disappointment of not going to Hogwarts had vanished from Lily and Hugo's faces. Hermione knew a losing battle when she saw it.

"Alright then." She sighed, but smiling as well. "I think you’ll like them, anyway."

An hour later, the two families had arrived in a somewhat shabby park, where a small marquee sat unacknowledged by Londoners heading about their busines. Stepping through, they revealed it was the size of a small ballroom, with a polished wooden floor. It was already pretty crowded.

Ron clasped his hands together in satisfaction. "Ah, good, there's the sandwiches."

"Ron, shouldn't you at least say hello first?" Ventured Harry.

"They're probably too busy, we've got time-"

"Ah, Harry!"

At the sound of this deep voice, the crowd in the middle of the room parted. Four figures approached them with surprisingly light steps.

"It's been too long, all of you!"

Asgore held out his large hand, and Harry once again was the first to take it. He was wearing a purple and white tunic festooned with the Delta Rune, with shoulder pads attached to it that also served to hold his cloak in place. His broad smile was now flanked by liberal streaks of grey among the gold. Toriel stood alongside him and also sporting a genuine smile, looking mostly the same as ever, though she now wore her spectacles all the time.

"Oh, Toriel." Said Hermione cheerily as she offered her hand. "I hadn't realised you were still doing these diplomatic trips."

"I have not needed too for many years, not since we properly established ourselves." She took Hermione's hand. "But there is an education conference I hope to attend in a few days. And also, it is a good opportunity to spend time with my children."

The smaller of those children stepped forward. Even by human standards Frisk was not especially tall - Harry was half a head taller than them - and among their family they looked tiny. They were dressed in robes very similar to Toriel's, though their Delta Rune had a red background compared to Asgore and Toriel's blue.

"How's it going? I bet it's been quiet." They shook Harry's hand.

"Can't complain." Shrugged Harry. "I like a nice quiet life, me."

"Harry!"

The last Dreemurr took his hand. It had been twenty years since they shook hands like this, and although the size advantage had been reversed, Asriel had kept the knack of shaking hands like an equal. He was broader than Toriel, but not quite as tall as Asgore, and his horns curved much more simply than his father's. In some ways he stood out more than Frisk did in the family, because unlike their traditional garments, he wore a black suit. He acknowledged his heritage with a purple shirt, with the top button open to allow a tuft of fur to peek through, and the Delta Rune embroidered on his breast pocket.

"You need to come visit more often, Harry! Oh, and I meant to thank you in person for that birthday present. Is it really a model of the whole galaxy?"

"Well I didn't count all the stars, so if there are any missing I can get a refund." Harry admitted, they both laughed.

"Asriel! You're so big now!"

"Oh, Ginny! You look great!" He bent over a little to allow her to give him a quick hug. They had met a few times before, and had forged a common bond over less than pleasant shared experiences.

"Um, hello..."

Asriel looked down at the little girl holding Harry's hand.

"M-my name's Lily."

He looked at her for a moment, and then knelt on one knee.

"Howdy, Lily. My name's Asriel Dreemurr."

"Oh." She hesitated, but only briefly. "Areyoureallyamonster?"

He pondered the question, and then looked at his hands as if surprised to find fur there. "Golly, looks like I am!"

"And you can do magic?" Hugo had slipped clear of his parents.

His green eyes suggested he had just been waiting to be asked. "Sure!"

Holding an open palm, a small flame appeared in it, flickering all the colours of the rainbow. The flame twisted until it was an equally colourful star, which he sent zooming round their heads and then up to the roof of the marquee, where it burst into rainbow sparks. Both children were impressed.

"Oh wow!" Cried Hugo, and then launched into the next question. "My Mum says monsters are allowed to do magic in front of muggles. Why is that?"

It was another question he pondered for a moment. "Well, nobody told us we shouldn't, and by the time wizards found out, we'd been doing it so long they just let us keep doing it, as long as we keep you a secret."

"That's a very simple explanation for wrestling a hundred and fifty Ministries of Magic to the ground to leave you lot alone." Chuckled Ron.

"Well it helped we had friends in high places." Said Frisk, smiling.

Asriel got back to his feet and finished shaking hands with the others. Ginny slipped over to him.

"How are the dreams?" She whispered.

"Oh." His brow furrowed. "Well, they still come up from time to time. That potion for dreamless sleep helps a bit."

"Perhaps a little too much in the early days, my son." Interjected Toriel. "I am glad you continue to rely more on your therapeutic techniques." She then resumed talking to Hermione.

"Yeah," Muttered Asriel with a trace of annoyance. ", well mindfulness and acceptance of irrational thought is all well and good until you've remembered the time you tried to rip off-"

"Hey!" Frisk hissed softly with an elbow in the ribs. "Watch the F-moment."

He blinked, and shook his head a little, letting his ears flop. "Sorry, steering clear of unhealthy thoughts now."

"Oh, Harry." Said Asgore, missing the exchange between his children. "I believe your friend Miss Lovegood was in Domus Nova again a couple of months ago."

"Oh, Luna? Well she's Mrs Scamander now. Who was she pestering this time?"

"Frederick and Fregina the Froggits. She was trying to ask if their ancestors possibly came from the moon, because of their colour."

"Sounds like Luna alright." Grinned Ron. "Remember when we first took her there and she quizzed Gerson about crumple-horned snorkack movements in the middle ages?"

"I like her." Frisk piped up. "She had some pretty insightful questions when she was part of that group that was studying monsters. She's got the right kind of open mind for thinking about them."

"Hey Dad." Said Asriel. "What's on the agenda after this lunch?"

"Oh, until the tour tomorrow? Hmm, I don't believe there's anything planned. Why do you ask?"

"Well we were only in London once before and things were a lot less certain then. I was hoping I could visit Greenwich Observatory."

"Oh Asriel, you and your stars." Toriel smiled at him.

"I'd rather we not split up. The press in this country is rather, em, thirsty."

An old impulse not to disappoint seized Harry. "Well, as Head of the Auror Office, I can personally escort the young prince."

"Not without me you won't." Frisk looked determined. "He yammered about it for a week the last time and was crushed we couldn't go. After all that I have to see what the fuss is about."

"And who will nobly volunteer next?" Asked Toriel with a knowing smile. "I suspect it shall be Ron."

"Me!" Blurted Hugo. "I'll help keep them safe!" Before long, the Dreemurr Children had a vanguard of six willing escorts.

"We'll, um, hold the line about monster volunteers in the Department of Mysteries." Asgore nobly proclaimed. "Don't stay out too late."

"We have our phones, we'll be fine." Reassured Asriel.

After a somewhat dull lunch that betrayed its hasty nature, Ron was insisting he take them round to the Burrow that evening for a proper meal.

"Besides," He was saying. ", Dad'll love to meet you."

"Oh?" Said Asriel. "Has he not met many monsters?"

"Nah, monsters are old hat to him. He'll want to talk to Frisk. A muggle with opinions about magic! How can you pass up a chance for an interview?"

Frisk smirked as Asriel looked a little put out. It wasn't long before they headed out the marquee.

"Asgore, are you sure about this?"

"They're grown up, Toriel. They can make their own decisions. Besides, don't think I don't know about your own little escort."

"My- Ah. I see. Yes, well, better safe than sorry. When Undyne was unavailable he seemed the best choice. No BONES about it."

Asgore looked briefly stricken while Toriel smirked.

As Londoners bought hot dogs from a seller they were too busy to really question, the party of eight walked up the street on their way to Greenwich, chatting about the stars. And monsters. And whispers about magic. Asgore's fear of press harassment didn't come to pass. If anything the opposite happened, with the Prince of the Monsters stopping to let passers-by take selfies with him. This straddling the boundary between two worlds thing could be hard sometimes, but Asriel wouldn't have it any other way.

All really was well.

THE END