Soul Searching/End Game
SS Chapter 14 - Godric's Hollow
By Chem Prof
Chapter 14, Godric’s Hollow
Remus and Ron arrived with a pop at the edge of a deserted, dusty old road. Remus looked around carefully, and then popped away again. Ron looked around, but saw nothing but a meadow surrounded by a few trees. Off in the distance he could see a little village, but there was no sign of habitation anywhere nearby. Just then Remus reappeared with Hermione, then disappeared once more. Hermione repeated Ron’s scan of the area.
“Why do you suppose we’re out in the middle of nowhere?” Ron asked her, noticing the same confusion in her face that he felt.
“Maybe to avoid being noticed?” Hermione offered. “I presume that must be Godric’s Hollow over there?” Ron nodded his agreement.
Remus returned for the final time with Harry. Surprisingly, they both just stood staring at the meadow instead of looking off at the village. Hermione looked at the meadow, then at Remus and Harry, then at the meadow again, frowning in thought. Ron’s curiosity soon got the best of him. “Mate? What are you two looking at?”
Harry steadied himself as he and Remus landed, and immediately looked at the cottage in front of him. Something tickled at the back of his mind. He knew this place. He had seen it in his dreams. This had been his home. His eyes moistened and he quickly rubbed at them with the back of his hand. Ron said something, but he didn’t hear, his mind whirling with emotion. He felt Hermione’s hand slip into his and give it a squeeze, and he half-consciously squeezed back, grateful for her comforting presence.
“Harry?” He turned to her and saw a strange expression on her face, then turned further and noticed a look of confusion on Ron’s face. His mind finally processed the question that Ron had asked.
“What do you mean? I’m looking at my … my …” he couldn’t manage to say it. Remus looked at Hermione and Ron’s expressions and suddenly realized something.
“Hermione and Ron,” the older man inquired, “what do you see?”
Comprehension began to dawn on Hermione’s face, but Ron was as confused as ever. “A meadow and some trees. Why?”
“The Fidelius charm,” said Hermione simply.
Remus nodded. “Har… The place we were coming to visit is still under the Fidelius. I hadn’t thought of that. It’s still working after all these years. Lily was very gifted at charms,” he mused admiringly.
Harry suddenly realized what was going on, and why he hadn’t been able to say the words ‘my house’ out loud.
“So why can you and Harry see it?” blurted out Ron.
Remus paused and thought before answering. “I had been told the secret. Only a few of us knew about it. Harry was actually part of the secret, so obviously he can see it. He lived here so he’d have to be able to see his own house, right?”
“But I thought you didn’t know that Pettigrew was the secret keeper. How did you know?”
Hermione, who had been half listening to this conversation while keeping an eye on Harry’s reaction answered impatiently, “Ron, he probably was given a slip of paper with the secret written on it, just like we did with Grim… headquarters. Dumbledore was the secret keeper for that, but Moody was the one who showed us the paper, remember?”
She turned her attention briefly to Remus, who acknowledged that she was correct. “I don’t suppose you still have the paper?” she asked without too much optimism. Remus just shook his head sadly. He had been trying to forget all about this for fifteen years. Virtually nothing remained in his possession from that time in his life. “Does that mean we need to get Pettigrew to write out it out again so that Ron and I can see it?”
“That’s a possibility.” Remus admitted.
Meanwhile, Harry had been taking in the appearance of his former home. It was something like what he saw in his dreams, but not exactly. He realized that in his dreams he saw this house as it was fifteen years ago. There was a stone fence around the property, but the gate was missing. Inside the fence the meadow had reclaimed the beautiful lawn and flower gardens that had once surrounded the house. A battered door hung at an angle in the doorway, and some of the windows were broken. He had only half heard the discussion, but he realized that Ron and Hermione would have a problem coming any farther.
He finally spoke up. “Maybe Remus and I can lead you into the house.” He looked down and noticed that he was still holding Hermione’s hand. He glanced up at her and she nodded in agreement, willing to try it. They slowly walked through the gap in the wall where the gate was missing and up to the broken door. As they passed the wall he felt a tingle and looked quickly over at Hermione with concern. She nodded that she had felt it too, but gave him an encouraging smile. It was working so far.
Just as they reached the door, Remus called out. “It’s not working for me. I can’t get Ron through the gate. You’ll have to come back for him. Leaving Hermione at the door, Harry returned to the gate and grabbed Ron’s hand as Remus walked up to join Hermione. In a few seconds they were all at the doorway.
Remus put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. Let me go first. Harry swallowed at the lump that seemed to have appeared in his throat and nodded.
Ron was looking around, still not seeing anything but meadow. He watched in amazement as Remus seemed to push something aside and then disappeared right before his eyes. “Bloody hell!”
Hermione, who was still watching Harry worriedly, automatically reached out and smacked Ron on the shoulder, causing Harry to smile for a moment. Some things never changed. Somehow that thought was reassuring and his nervousness lifted a little. Looking up gratefully at his two best friends, he took hold of each of their hands and carefully maneuvered them through the doorway that they couldn’t see. A stronger tingle, almost a jolt this time, passed through them but a quick glance reassured him that they were both still OK.
The inside of the house looked much bigger than the outside. They were in an entryway that opened up to several rooms. A formal living room was on one side while a less formal family area was on the other. There was a stairs leading up to several more rooms, presumably bedrooms, which was strange because the cottage had appeared to be only one story. A hallway led to a kitchen and a dining area.
Remus had stopped just inside the entryway. He turned to them with tears in his eyes, nodding toward the family area. Broken furniture was overturned and mingled with long forgotten toys on the floor. Blast marks from powerful curses were on the walls, and all the windows in this room had been blown out. There was a gasp from Hermione and Ron, indicating that they could see everything now that they were inside the house. Harry just stood mutely, staring at the place where his father had been killed. Hermione’s hand tightened over his as two tears tracked their way down his cheeks. Her head found his shoulder and he felt Ron’s hand on his back.
They stood there silently, patiently waiting for as long as Harry needed them. Finally he looked over at the three of them in appreciation and stepped forward into the room.
Suddenly a mist filled the room. In a flash, Harry and Hermione’s wands were out and they had moved into a fighting stance, with Ron following only an instant later. Remus also had his wand out, and he had spun around, scanning the room for threats. Nothing emerged, however, and the mist slowly cleared.
As it cleared they heard voices from the room. Turning back quickly they immediately saw that the room had changed. The furniture was upright and repaired, the walls clear, and the windows unbroken. There were now three people in the room, a man, a woman, and a small child. Without realizing it, Harry lowered his wand and stepped forward, not willing to believe what he was seeing. He had seen this man and woman before, in the Mirror of Erised.
“Mum? Dad?”
Simultaneously he heard from next to him, “James? Lily?” He turned to see Remus staring at them too, and quickly turned back. There was no response from either of them or the child. Indeed, they seemed to not even notice the presence of others in the room with them. Harry suddenly realized what this reminded him of. He had visited many scenes like this recently in Dumbledore’s pensieve. Without turning around he asked the others, “Can you all see this too?”
Upon receiving affirmative responses he offered his explanation. “This is just like a pensieve memory. I think we’re seeing me and my parents when I was little. That’s what that mist was, the memory starting. I guess I must have triggered it when I stepped into the room. Remus, have you ever heard anything like this?”
“No, but I think you’re right. Let’s just see what happens.”
“Harry,” Ron finally asked, “is that really you?” Harry felt Ron and Hermione move up on either side of him, and Hermione took his hand again.
James was on the floor playing with little Harry, and was sitting back, smiling at him. Suddenly an alarm went off, startling the three of them. James and Lily looked at each other in terror, and little Harry began to cry.
“Lily, take Harry and go!” James shouted. “It’s him! Go! Run! I’ll hold him off …”
Harry’s stomach constricted into a small ball and his throat tightened. He knew what was coming next. He had seen this scene too many times in dementor-induced nightmares.
The door burst open with a crash. The other three jumped out of their skin, but Harry was expecting it. Without realizing what he was doing, he moved back out of the way to watch his father about to meet his death at the hands of Voldemort.
“Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!” Two of those shouts came from Ron and Remus, but their spells passed harmlessly through the apparition that was Voldemort. The third, from his father, impacted harmlessly against the powerful dark wizard’s shield spell.
Harry watched helplessly, clenching his fists as his father hurled every spell he could think of at Voldemort, but the evil one blocked them all, cackling with a high pitched laughter. “So, you thought you could defy me,” he hissed. “You thought you could hide from the vengeance of the Dark Lord. Crucio!”
Harry shrank back, not wanting to see his father tortured, but unable to tear his eyes away from the scene. James dodged the curse however, diving across the room and springing back to his feet to face Voldemort again. It was too late. Voldemort had already cast the fatal spell.
“Avada Kedavra!” A green jet of light struck down James Potter and he fell lifelessly to the floor.
“Nooo!” Even though he knew it was a vision, Harry could not contain himself. He ran to his father and tried to pick him up, but as he knew would happen, his arms passed right through the body.
He turned to see Voldemort striding out of the room and heading up the stairs. Ron and Hermione were backing away in terror, and Remus stood watching helplessly, shaken at having just seen his best friend die. Harry raced out of the room following the dark wizard and watched him go up the stairs to kill his mother.
“Reducto!” Harry couldn’t help himself, and watched the spell pass harmlessly through the ethereal body of his nemesis and blow a hole in the wall at the top of the stairs. As he was staring he noticed for the first time that Voldemort carried a sword in one hand and a wand in the other. Racing up the stairs after him, he arrived just in time to see Voldemort confront his mother.
Lily stood in front of her crying child, her wand up. Before she could react, a nonverbal disarming spell hit her, and her wand went flying. Ignoring the wand as it clattered to the floor next to him, Voldemort spoke again in that awful, hated voice. “Stand aside.”
Harry knew what was coming next. He could almost repeat it word for word, he had heard it so many times in his nightmares. “Not Harry! Not Harry! Please – I’ll do anything – ”
“Stand aside. Stand aside girl.” Volemort was slowly advancing on Lily, his wand on her carefully. ‘What is he waiting for?’ thought Harry, ‘why doesn’t he just kill her?’
“Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!
“Stand aside, you silly girl … stand aside, now …”
“Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead – ”
Still, Voldemort did nothing. Incredibly, he seemed determined to spare Harry’s mother. He was close enough to her now and reached out to physically move her away. Instead, she curled herself around Harry, clutching him in her arms. A faint white glow seemed to surround mother and child, and Voldemort pulled his hand away quickly, as though burned.
“Not Harry! Please … have mercy … have mercy …”
Now Voldemort apparently gave up on separating the two, pointing his wand at Lily again. Shrill laughter broke out as a nonverbal Cruciatas curse hit Lily and she started screaming. Still, she would not let go of her son.
“Avada Kedavra.” The voice hissed once more, the green light flashed, and Lily slumped to the floor.
Little Harry clung fiercely to his dead mother, his face buried into her chest. Voldemort walked up to him and laid the sword on his head. Suddenly, Harry realized what the sword was for. At the touch of the blade, the child looked up into the evil wizard’s face, hatred blazing in his green eyes.
“Avada Kedavra!” The green light jetted forth once more from his wand and struck little Harry directly in the forehead. This time, however, it reflected right back into Voldemort, striking him before the shocked wizard could move.
Voldemort’s body collapsed, and there was a loud clank as the sword hit the floor next to the now unconscious child. Instantly there was a loud piercing shriek, and a wisp of something flew from the body of the vanquished dark lord, swirled around briefly, and sped from the room.
Harry felt his legs giving way, but suddenly two pairs of strong hands caught him, while a smaller hand clutched at his own. Hermione’s anxious, tear-streaked face appeared in front of him, while he was slowly lowered to the floor. The mist filled the room again, then slowly dissipated. Harry quickly looked over at where the bodies had been laying, but they were gone. The dilapidated room with old, broken furniture had returned.
“Bloody hell!” For once, Hermione didn’t take exception to Ron’s comment. All of them were stunned by what they had just witnessed.
“Harry. The sword’s still here.” Harry had been staring at the place where his mother’s body had been, and Hermione and Remus had been focusing their attention on Harry, so Ron was the first one to notice the weapon. Harry got up and walked over to it. It lay there gleaming as though freshly polished. It clearly had not been laying here in the dust for fifteen years.
“Be careful Harry!” came Hermione’s voice from behind him. But Harry recognized this sword. Somehow it was calling to him. He reached out and turned it over to read the name he knew would be engraved just below the hilt. Godric Gryffindor.
“Be careful Harry.” Hermione repeated. “What if that’s a Horcrux?”
“No,” replied Harry quietly. Didn’t you see? The soul didn’t enter the sword. It flew away.” He turned and showed them the name on the sword. “This is the sword of Godric Gryffindor. It’s the same one I used to kill the basilisk.”
“But how? How can it be here and in Dumbledore’s office?”
Harry turned to Remus. “Do you know,” he asked, “how long this sword has been hanging in the headmaster’s office?”
Remus shook his head. “I don’t remember it being there when I was a student, and I was in that office quite a few times then. I know it was there the year I taught at Hogwarts.”
Harry pondered all of this for awhile, then laid the sword down carefully. To everyone’s surprise but his, it vanished.
“What? Where’d it go?” several voices cried out. Harry didn’t answer. Somehow, he just knew. The sword had communicated with him in some way. He stretched out his hand and concentrated on it. The sword reappeared in the air in front of him, but crashed to the ground before he could grab it.
“I guess I need to practice at this.” was Harry’s only comment. The others, however, were beside themselves with curiosity.
“What did you do?” How did you do that?”
Harry picked up the sword and turned to them. “When I killed the basilisk, I pulled this sword out of the Sorting Hat. But when Fawkes first dropped me the hat, the sword wasn’t in it. It only appeared when I put the hat on and called out for help.” He turned and looked at the sword in wonderment. “Somehow, it seems to appear when I summon it.”
He turned to look around the room. “Somehow, this whole memory was here waiting for me to trigger it. I’m not sure if it was the sword, or something my mum did, but this was all here to tell me something I needed to know.” He looked back at the other three. “I’ve been feeling it calling me to come here for a while now.”
He looked closely at the sword again. “We’re connected. I don’t know if it first happened when he tried to kill me or if goes back even farther, but we defeated him together. I think this is the key. This is how I’m supposed to kill him.”
He thought some more. “The name of this place is Godric’s Hollow. It must be named after Gryffindor, right? His sword was here and played a part in killing him the first time. It appeared again when I needed it to kill the basilisk, while I was fighting the first Horcrux. It all fits together somehow.”
He looked back at the others once more. “Now we have another reason to go back to Hogwarts next week. Maybe Dumbledore’s portrait will have some answers for us.”
-ooOoo-
After they all settled down, they explored the remains of the cottage. Ron and Hermione never left Harry’s side as he sifted through the broken remains of his past. Remus kept watch outside, preferring to spend as little time in the cottage of his dead friends as possible. He wanted to remember it the way it had been as much as he could.
Tears once more streamed down Hermione’s cheeks as she watched Harry look at his old toys. Even Ron had to wipe his eyes once or twice as the two of them thought about the happy childhood Harry should have had, but which had been denied him by Voldemort and the Dursleys. They looked at each other and silently vowed that if they had anything to say about it, both parties would pay.
Suddenly Harry sank to his knees, sobbing. In his hand was an old toy snitch. Ron and Hermione rushed to his side, Hermione hugging him while Ron carefully took the snitch and held it up. Printed on the sphere were the words:
Harry Potter, Future Gryffindor Seeker
1st Birthday
Ron put his arm around Harry too, joining in Hermione’s embrace. Finally Harry got control of himself to murmur in a low voice. “They never got to see me play. My dad would have been so happy seeing me play quidditch.”
The three friends sat there for a long time, two of them doing their best to comfort the third, but knowing that nothing could bring back what he had lost.
Later, as they walked out into the meadow behind the house, Ron and Hermione fell back a little to give Harry some space. Ron turned to Hermione. “I never really thought about what it was like for him, Hermione. I mean, I knew that the Dursleys treated him like trash, but I never really thought about what it meant, what he would have had. And what we saw in there, that vision. Is that what he sees and hears in his nightmares?”
Hermione could only nod. Even though she had thought about Harry’s childhood a lot more than Ron had, seeing the reality brought it home more clearly than she could have imagined. She shuddered at the thought of having to relive her parents’ deaths over and over.
Ron continued, “I can’t believe I ever envied him.” He turned to her. “I don’t want to be him anymore.” Hermione just smiled and shook her head, then reached up and hugged her other best friend. He was finally starting to get it.
-ooOoo-
They stayed at the cottage most of the day. Harry explored every inch of every room, trying to learn as much about his parents’ lives as possible. The most valuable time came from sitting with Remus under a tree, listening to him reminisce, prompting him for as many memories as he could recall. Ron and Hermione never left his side, supporting him as only best friends can, laughing with him during the fun stories and hugging him during the sad ones.
Hermione kept a close watch on all three of the others. She was proud of Ron’s more mature attitude, his unconditional support of his friend, and his willingness to share in Harry’s emotions. He had surprised her when he unhesitatingly joined in their hugs. His emotional range was now much larger than that of a teaspoon she thought, smiling to herself.
Remus, to her relief, had relaxed as the day went on. This was a therapeutic experience for him as well, she concluded. She had been aware of his extreme reluctance to come here, and understood why he would have wanted to bury these memories forever. But it had been the right decision, and confronting them had put him on the path to healing. He was forgiving James and forgiving himself.
Of course she had been the most concerned about Harry, and things seemed to be going well for him, too. He had been desperate for information about his parents for as long as she had known him, and she had never understood why the adults in his life had denied it to him. He didn’t even know where they were buried, she thought angrily. Why had he never been allowed to mourn them properly? But more and more she could see that he was coming to be at peace with the whole thing.
While she certainly wouldn’t want to go through that vision again, it had given him some closure, and answered some of the questions that had always haunted him. There were new questions raised, she knew. Why had Voldemort been so reluctant to kill Lily? And what was going on with the sword of Gryffindor? That was scary and exciting at the same time, the idea that Harry alone could summon the symbol of the legendary wizard.
-ooOoo-
The trio apparated back to the house on Turnbull Ct. in the late afternoon and Remus returned to Grimmauld Place. Hermione took Ron into the kitchen to help her prepare supper, leaving Harry to rest in the living area. She was sure it had been an exhausting day for him, more so than for her and Ron, and she wanted to let him absorb it all at his own pace.
Ron in the kitchen turned out to be a bad idea. He wanted to levitate everything, much as the twins had two summers ago at Grimmauld Place, and she had to explain to him that they were deliberately minimizing their use of magic here, in order to avoid giving the Ministry any way of detecting where they were. Ron however, was hopeless doing things the muggle way. His kitchen experience at home apparently had been minimal in the first place, such that he couldn’t even boil water or put something into the oven or on the stove without asking a slew of questions. The microwave was an insolvable mystery. Finally she just had him set the table and shooed him out to check on Harry.
To the relief of both Ron and Hermione, Harry seemed fine at dinner, and joined in with their conversation about the events of the past week without any hesitation. Hermione could tell, though, that something was on his mind. Instead of trying to pry it out of him, as she would have before this summer, she waited patiently for him to talk to them about it. Her trust was proven well placed again when, after helping her clean up after supper, Harry told them he wanted their opinions on an idea he had and they headed for the living area.
After they each settled into a comfortable chair or sofa Harry spoke up.
“First I want to thank you both for everything you did today. I can’t tell you how much it meant to me to have you with me.” He quickly waved aside their response. “I know you’ve told me over and over that you’re with me on this, but it isn’t something you had to do and I want you to know I appreciate it, even though I’m not always good about expressing it.”
“You’re welcome Harry,” Hermione responded softly. “It’s OK, mate,” was Ron’s reply.
“Now I’ve been thinking,” continued Harry. I really feel a lot better after today, even though it was horrible watching it at the time. I think it helped me seeing it now instead of dwelling on it in my head and I think it will help me deal better with the nightmares. Here’s my idea. You know how much Ginny wanted to come with us today.” The others both nodded. That had been pretty hard to miss. “I think we made the right decision, because I think this would have been pretty hard for her to take. You guys know me better than she does, and you could handle the way I reacted better.”
“I think you may be right, Harry, but I also think you’re underestimating her,” replied Hermione.
“Yeah, she’s pretty tough,” agreed Ron. “But I don’t know, she might have reacted pretty badly to what we had to watch. It’s hard to say.”
“I know she’s tough. And she’s got some pretty horrible memories of her own. That’s what gave me the idea. What do you think of taking her with us when we go visit the chamber next week?”
The other two were initially taken aback by this suggestion. After all, it had been the most horrible experience of Ginny’s life. “I don’t know, Harry. She still has nightmares about that place,” offered Ron.
Harry and Hermione both nodded. Ginny had told Hermione about her nightmares, and Harry had suspected it. “That’s one of the reasons I’m suggesting it, though,” Harry argued. “I think seeing the place where this happened in the light of day will help my nightmares. I wonder if going back and seeing it again now that she’s older and better able to deal with it might help her.”
“That’s a good point,” agreed Hermione. “I’ve read about how that can help in dealing with bad memories. I think it helped Remus today, too. But would just going there be the same thing as we went through today? With that vision, you actually relived it.”
“It’s possible that we could do something like that. We could use Dumbledore’s pensieve and I could show her my memory. She was unconscious for the whole thing, so she didn’t actually see Riddle die. Maybe if she sees me kill the basilisk, which she was forced to control remember, and sees Riddle die, it will help her deal with the nightmares.”
“I get it. I think you’re right, that might help. When she sees or hears Riddle taunting her, she can say, ‘You’re dead. I saw you die.’” With Ron’s concurrence the decision was finalized. “But you have to be the one to tell Mum.” They all laughed at that and agreed that if Molly would listen to any of them it would be Harry.
That evening Ron went for a walk with Harry and Hermione so they could show him the neighborhood. Ron raised his eyebrows in surprise as Hermione automatically slipped her hand into Harry’s and was uneasy that they made much more contact with each other during the walk than he was used to. Seeing his confusion they reminded him that to the people in this neighborhood they were newlyweds and they needed to act like it. They also reminded him to call them Jack and Jane. They introduced him to a few of their neighbors as their best friend from school. He declined their offer to take him running with them in the morning.
-ooOoo-
Ron did not adapt well to muggle life. Living his whole life with magic had not prepared him to deal with everyday things that Harry and Hermione took for granted. Commonplace things like on-off switches and door locks were puzzles. He wanted to just point his wand at anything to get it to operate. Telephones, televisions, music players, and computers were, like the microwave, absolute mysteries.
He liked watching the television when Harry or Hermione turned it on for him and put a movie in the tape player, but became less interested when he realized that the pictures on the screen did not respond to him like the moving pictures he was familiar with. When they tried to teach him to play cards he was irritated that the cards did not do what he instructed them to do.
By Friday he was getting difficult to live with. By Saturday they were all ready to call it quits. They each gave him a hug as he prepared to apparate back home, and made sure he knew that they weren’t upset at his inability to fit in They also promised that they would come to the Burrow for dinner the next day to talk to Ginny and Molly and to prepare for their trip to Hogwarts.
-ooOoo-
“Hermione?”
“Hmm?”
“I was just thinking about what happened with Ron.”
“Me too. What were you thinking about?”
Harry and Hermione were relaxing on the sofas in the living area and had just finished watching a TV show that Saturday night. Hermione had just picked up a book but put it down quickly and gave her attention to Harry.
“How was it for you when you first went to Hogwarts?”
“Well, as you probably remember, the toughest thing for me was that I didn’t have any friends for the first two months. I never really hit it off with Parvati and Lavender and I tried to get to know you and Ron, but you didn’t want me hanging around either. Neville was the only one who even wanted to talk to me.”
Harry’s shoulders slumped and he hung his head. “Oh Hermione, I’m so sorry about that. I feel terrible every time I think about it. I …”
Silently berating herself for bringing that up, Hermione quickly crossed to the sofa Harry was on and sat down next to him, grabbing his shoulder to make him look up at her and interrupting his apology. “Harry, I didn’t mean it like that. You don’t have to apologize for that anymore. You’ve more than made up for it since. I couldn’t have a better friend.” He smiled weakly back at her and she relaxed. “But that’s not what you meant, is it?”
“No, I was wondering how well you adjusted to magic.”
“It wasn’t as hard as it might have been. I’d read about a dozen books about everything magical I could find. I was really looking forward to it and prepared myself as well as I could. I even practiced some spells.”
Harry smiled again, remembering the bossy little girl on the train. “Yeah, I remember that you seemed like you knew everything. I was really intimidated by you back then.”
Hermione’s jaw dropped. “You were intimidated by me! I was intimidated by you. You were the famous Harry Potter. I started babbling every time I talked to you.”
They both burst out laughing as they realized how far their perceptions had been from reality.
“Oh yeah, I remember.” Harry switched to an imitation of an eleven year old girl’s voice. “Are you really Harry Potter? I know all about you of course. I got a few extra books for background reading and you’re in…” he switched back to his regular voice. “Which books was I in again? Never mind.” Switching back to the little girl voice he continued, “I’ve learned all of our course books by heart of course. Do either of you know what house you’ll be in? I’ve been asking around and I hope I’m in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn’t be too bad.”
Hermione was torn between being embarrassed and impressed, and settled for just staring at him.
“Oh, and my personal favorite,” Harry concluded. “We could all have been killed, or worse, expelled!”
Hermione buried her face in her hands and groaned. “Of all the things I’ve said to you, why did you have to remember that one?”
Harry said calmly, “I remember a lot of the things you’ve said to me Hermione.”
Hermione looked up at him and the room suddenly seemed very quiet. Harry found himself staring into her dark brown eyes and began to feel a little uncomfortable.
Hermione said in a low voice, “I don’t know. I think Hermione does. Why don’t you ask her?”
Harry immediately recognized his words from Snape’s first class. Hermione continued softly, “I remember too. I think that was the first nice thing you said about me.”
Harry shifted uneasily. He decided to move the conversation back to where it had started. “You were always so desperate to answer every question,” he noted. “Was it because you were trying to prove yourself? To make up for being muggleborn?”
“I guess I was, but I’d always been that way in school. I was really desperate to fit in. I’d always been an outcast in my other schools. When I found out I was a witch I thought I would find others like me and finally make some friends. But it was really no better at Hogwarts. Being a know-it-all didn’t make me any friends there any more than it had before. But you changed all that. Being friends with you … and Ron too. People started accepting me. I don’t think you fully realize how much your friendship did for me.”
“But being friends with you and Ron saved me too,” objected Harry. “Everyone else had the same reaction that you did at first. ‘Look, it’s the famous Harry Potter,’” he said bitterly. “It was like they expected me to walk on water or something. Huh. I didn’t know I was famous. I couldn’t figure out what everyone was talking about. I didn’t have a clue about anything. I was so lost those first few weeks. Ron was constantly having to explain things to me.”
He now became serious again. “Seeing how much trouble Ron had adjusting to muggle life reminded me of that.” He looked up at her. “So do most muggleborns adjust to magic as quickly as you did or are some like I was?”
“Probably more like you. It was worse for you because nobody thought of you as muggleborn, so everyone expected you to know things and didn’t bother to explain anything. Not too many incoming students read as much as I did.”
Harry couldn’t help laughing at that. “No, really?” Hermione hit him on the shoulder and tried to look insulted, but gave up and smiled back. Harry looked thoughtful again. “If I was running Hogwarts, I’d try to do something to help muggleborn students adjust. It’s almost as though they want us to fail.”
Hermione found it interesting that Harry thought of himself as muggleborn, even though he wasn’t. He really was a unique person. Famous from birth, born to a wizard family, descended from a long line of wizards on his father’s side, but raised as a muggle without any of the wizarding world’s prejudices. This is what had earned him the goblins’ support, and might somehow be the key to his ability to defeat Voldemort.
She shook aside that train of thought. “Well, you might be in a position to do something about that. I’m guessing McGonagall wants you to come back to Hogwarts pretty badly. Maybe you can get her to set up something like that.”
Harry didn’t answer that, so she continued. “Do you want to know what I was thinking about?”
“Sure,” he answered quickly.
“I was thinking of something similar, only for wizards. So many wizards are helpless in the muggle world. Look at Arthur Weasley. He loves muggle stuff, but he probably still wouldn’t be able to function in a muggle environment.” She frowned. “Our Muggle Studies course should be able to help that but it’s a joke. I don’t think the content’s been updated in a hundred years!”
“Maybe we can talk to McGonagall about that, too,” he concluded. They both sat in thought for awhile.
“Are you ready for tomorrow and for Hogwarts?”
“I think so. Do you really think we’ll find one there?”
“I do. But we’ll worry about that when we get there. Let’s get to bed. You’re going to need your strength tomorrow to battle Mrs. Weasley.”
He pretended to cower in terror, and she laughingly poked him in the shoulder as she stood up and pulled him to his feet and they headed off to bed.
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