Ironic tears watered her sad smile this time when she rose from the liquid that wasn’t wet at all. As those glazed eyes drifted over to the empty fireplace once more, her breath got caught. She could have sworn to see a shadow vanish into thin air and there was this feeling of not being alone.
“Severus?”, she asked in a whisper, but naturally, there was no answer.
Sighing, her shoulders sank. Even if he was there, why should he show himself? Hadn’t she learnt? And Harry must have still got no idea how much she knew or how deep she was into – otherwise he wouldn’t have let her watch that. What time was it anyway? Shouldn’t they be back already?
Without further thinking, she retrieved the memories, stoppered them and packed them along with her Pensieve. Then she marched straight to the boys’ lavatory and pressed her ear to the closed door. No sound. A little more careful, she pushed down the handle and peered into the half light-flooded, semi oval tower room. No sign of – to her luck quietly enough, her hand clapped onto her mouth when she spotted them, Draco half hanging on Harry, left side and head to his chest, with his right hooked to his shoulder. She couldn’t see his face in that position, but telling from Harry’s open mouth and their calm, slow breathing, they were vast asleep. Harry’s arms hung slack, but he had obviously had them laid around Draco before he had dozed off. Forcing down a broad grin and a way too immature thought, she silently paced back and closed the door behind.
She needed to breathe. Somewhere. The heat rising in her face had to be cooled down. For a moment she played with the thought of taking the other door for a wash, but she knew that was no help. Composing herself, she marched back up and towards the sofa. There she took out a paper and pencil and wrote them a note with an added smiling face. Then she carefully placed the phial with the memory beneath the sheet, closed the window and, feeling the strange urge for it, stuck the pencil behind her right ear before she left the tower, lively pushing a startled Fat Lady away.
“Honestly, young woman, you might be a heroine, but that doesn’t give you the right to be rude!”, the portrait barked, making some others turn.
“Sorry!”, Hermione giggled and strolled downstairs in the bright, gigantic tower.
“That is not funny!”
Ignoring the following mutters, she made her way to her destination, but turned on the fifth floor. Not knowing why, she had a feeling that there was a better place to go to. Since she would be continuing her education in September, she would spend too much time in that other place anyway. So, naturally taking her twice as long as usual due to her low speed, she paced towards the Astronomy Tower, downright inhaling the air in the deserted, peaceful castle. It had never been so empty, so silent at daytime. But she had never been to it during the summer holidays. The awareness that it had not even been two months ago that half of the school had been destroyed in some ways, felt rather odd. They had done an incredible job.
Suddenly she wasn’t alone anymore. By one of the ancient windows, she noticed something silvery and slightly transparent. She turned to face Hermione with her big eyes popping out behind her glasses and an askew grin.
“Oh hello, Hermione!”, Myrtle sang. “What would you be doing here?”
“I just felt the need to – ”
“Yes, I know how that feels like.”, she moaned. “You have sent your parents to Australia? Luna once told me, you know. I know what you feel like. Being homeless.”
“Oh – sure. Your toilet was blasted away.”, Myrtle confirmed with a nod and her pale lips trembling.
“But they’re working on it.”, the ghost sighed. “I see much more of the castle these days, but I miss my – dying place. I miss the pipes. I never thought I would, but I do.”
“There are many other pipes – ”
“But they’re not the same!”, Myrtle spat at her, her face torn with sudden anger.
“I know. I’ve been to The Burrow so many times, but I miss my room too.”, that eased the dead girl.
“Yes.”
“I’ll go looking for my parents next week.”
“Hopefully you find them.”
“Yes. Hopefully you have your toilet back soon as well.”
“Thanks.”, Myrtle smirked, a little flattered.
“Ever – ”, considered Hermione, “Ever been to the Astronomy Tower since your school days?”
“No.”
“I – meant to go up there. Maybe you want to come with me? I could need some company.”
“You – you mean that?”, her already big eyes nearly fell this time.
“Yeah.”, Hermione smiled.
“No one – ever – asked me – ”, Myrtle sobbed.
“Sorry – I didn’t mean to hurt – ”
“You didn’t hurt me.”, she wiped off actually real tears. “It’s just, no one ever asked me to be their company. Well, Luna has, and Draco, and another girl has. But she died long ago as well.”
“Who was she?”, Hermione asked when they moved onward, Myrtle gliding at her side.
“She was like us, you know? Just much prettier. But she had Muggle parents as well. She often came to my toilet when the boys in her class made her upset. One of them then frequently came with her. Of course I told him to get lost, but he refused and she said it was okay. They were best friends, you see? And he could hurt Peeves. So I let him stay.”, by that, Hermione knew exactly whom she was talking of. “But they say, he died as well now. I’m sorry for you. You seemed happy.”
“We still are,”, Hermione smiled, “Somehow.”
“Has he come back? As a ghost?”
“Something like that.”, she sighed. “He doesn’t actually show himself.”
“Maybe he can’t yet. It took quite a time until people saw me. I was just – thoughts – flying through the castle – but after some years, I could already see myself in windows or mirrors. Just a bit, but I could. And then I could feel things as well, if others threw them at me. Or ran through me. I still don’t really feel when I fly through stuff myself though.”
“That’s interesting.”, Hermione considered.
“Yes. Very interesting. You know, you’re not so bad.”, Myrtle gave her a brief high chuckle, somewhat close to Umbridge’s, but Hermione did her best not to show the discovery.
“Thank you.”, Hermione chuckled back.
For the rest of their walk; Myrtle simply floated ahead through the closed door to the outer tower; they remained silent. A cool summer breeze blew through Hermione’s brown bushes when she went up the grating steps, Myrtle on the other side of the handrail. Still not dropping a word, they entered the topmost platform and moved towards the parapet in the western area.
“Luna said, she often comes up here.”
“She does.”, confirmed Hermione. “Or, did. But I guess, she’ll do again when term starts.”
“Oh, I think I will, yes.”
They rushed around. She only stood seven feet behind them, her blond waves swaying in the breeze. Why? Why did she always appear so –
“That’s probably because people usually tend to overlook me. Then they’re shocked because I’m there.”
“Did you just – ?”
“Your look told me what you were thinking.”, Luna smiled at Hermione. “Hello, by the way.”
“Hello.”, the latter aspirated, eyes indeed wide open.
“I’ll leave you two now,”, Myrtle meant with a smile as well.
“You can stay, if you want to.”, Hermione said. “Really.”
“Oh no, I think you two should be alone. I know a better place to be. I haven’t scared Mrs Norris in a while,”
With a high pitched, cheerful laugh she soared up, over the parapet and was gone. Before she could overcome her confusion, Hermione was already joined by Luna at the metal bars. Though they just stood there for some minutes and watched the sunlight fall onto the school grounds and the mountains and forests beyond. Some clouds had started crawling over the horizon, but they were the only ones to break the clear blue of the sky.
“You miss him a lot, don’t you?”, Luna asked.
“Yes.”
“He’s not gone too far, you know,”
“No. He’s doing his best not to attract attention.”, Hermione huffed.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,”, she grunted. “Maybe he doesn’t read the Prophet anymore.”
“Oh I don’t think those go on his account.”
“Well, guess, I think differently.”
“You really shouldn’t.”
“Okay, he said he’d never kill again once the war is over – ”
“There you got it, haven’t you?”, Luna winked. “You shouldn’t judge him so quickly.”
“I don’t. I just see the facts.”
“So do I. But we both know that he likes to play with those.”
“I also said I’d be fine with the killings, if they were spectacular. And drawing former Death Eaters is quite spectacular, if you think about it. I’ve heard Kingsley have some words on the `Avenger´ cases with Harry and he broke off almost all his sentences when he tried to describe it. Even Harry nearly puked when he showed him a photo. I didn’t get a glance on it, but Harry’s seen a lot and by Kingsley’s descriptions and everyone else’s words on the matter, it must be horrendous. He’s – become a – butcher – ”
“Don’t judge him quickly.”, Luna repeated. “As far as I can remember, it’s been you to tell everyone to look beyond his masks.”
“Still. You saw what he did to those in the Entrance Hall.”
“That was not done nearly as slow as these murders.”
“Are you just trying to convince me, he’s innocent?”
“Oh yes,”
“Do you have any proof?”, Hermione finally looked at her.
“None you would accept. And it’s like you said, isn’t it? He doesn’t actually show himself.”
“Have you been following us?”, Hermione murmured.
“Perhaps,”, Luna hadn’t lost her gentle smile yet. “How’s Draco doing?”, Hermione considered for some seconds, sorting the words to say.
“Being a totally honest liar.”, Luna only nodded. “But I think, he and Harry are starting to – er – get along – ”
“Draco needs him, more than he himself is aware of. He’s missing two fathers and Harry’s closest to what would be a brother now. We really have to be careful. He needs a family. His mother will stay with the Weasleys, so he’ll be alone when he returns to Hogwarts.”, with every word Luna spoke, her smile slowly faded away.
“He’s got Hannah – ”
“True, but she can’t take all the weight. You’ve been missing a lot during the last school year. This place has changed. The people have changed.”
“Everything has changed.”
“Yes. And he probably changed the most. Many didn’t agree, but we wrangled him into the DA, claming that he could work as a spy. But of course there were more than just him who played two roles. Ginny has lied so much, I already expected her to mix up things at times. But she’s become a master of it. Neville has grown above himself, but we haven’t told him the truth until the end of the battle, like many others. He confirmed to me himself that he will return for NEWTs.”
“That’s great.”, meant Hermione.
“Yes. Like Ginny said, he wants to do at least Herbology and try on Defence Against the Dark Arts.”, Luna giggled shortly. “I haven’t mentioned yet that Draco will be teaching it. I want to see his face.”
“Luna!”, Hermione laughed.
“Well, Ginny influenced us all, you see?”
“Yeah.”
“I think, we should give him some coaching in Potions and Transfiguration, even though he can’t take the exams in those.”
“Definitely.”, grinned Hermione. “Should have done that ages ago.”
“She’s pushing it quite high, don’t you think? Rita Skeeter?”
“When hasn’t she done that,”, Hermione murmured.
“And Harry doesn’t do anything about it.”
“Well, everyone knows the biography’s crap.”
“Yes. She’s `best selling´. There has been a ceremony somewhere in Devonshire. Three residents of a village bought an entire stock of her books with Leprechaun Gold and burnt them all in the middle of a field.”
“Read that, yes. Serves her well. Though they should have made the article bigger. Probably she did everything to keep it from release but it leaked nevertheless. I’m actually glad that no one really takes her serious anymore.”
“Some do.”, Luna sighed. “Some will always do. And that’s the danger with people that lie just for money. I think, I’ll buy the other biography. Although it seems, it’s just a part. But it’s said to be written like a story rather. And if it’s good, I might buy the whole series until no further comes.”
“Which other biography?”, Hermione got curious, but as so often, Luna wouldn’t answer such a simple question.
“Harry didn’t look all too happy when he came from the Headmaster office. Do you know what happened?”
“He’s watched the memory Severus gave to you, but he hasn’t explained yet why he so strongly believes now that Dumbledore killed his parents.”
“Has he said that? Hmm. Haven’t you asked him?”
“He fell asleep in the bathtub while I watched it. I didn’t want to wake him.”
“You should really ask him what exactly he knows.”, Hermione heard that Luna was smiling while she said that, but a gust of wind had blown her hair into her face and she had serious trouble getting it away.
“He’ll be telling me anyway, I think.”
“You think?”
“Don’t you?”, she could finally wipe the hair away and turned to her, but the girl was gone. “Luna?”, a little confused, her eyes searched the platform, but Luna was nowhere to be seen or heard.
~~#~~
“That is quite a stunning house. How are they holding it together?”
“I suppose, it’s something in the structure. Somewhere they must have installed staves for unloading.”
“They’re wizards!”, Hermione laughed. “It’s done magically, of course!”
“Hermione!”, like expected, as soon as she had entered the kitchen and been spotted by Mrs Weasley, she was pulled into a tight embrace. “Oh my goodness!”
“Hello, Mrs Weasley.”, she smiled, once she could breathe again.
“Oh come on, dear. Why don’t you call me Molly yet.”
“Alright, Molly.”
“And is that – ? Good gracious! You found them?”
“Yes.”
“Wendell – ”, her father offered her his hand, “Oh, sorry, Daniel Granger.”, he laughed “It seems, bits from our vacation got burnt into my brain. Australian sun.”
“Never mind. Welcome to The Burrow. I’m Molly for you too.”, she boasted and turned to greet Mrs Granger as well.
“Miranda, nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine! But we did meet already, didn’t we?”
“Oh yes!”, Miranda gasped. “Now that you say it, I remember, yes!”
Meanwhile Hermione had spotted that there was another person in the kitchen. Sitting at the table, he stared straight forward out of a window, seemingly unaware that they were there at all. Slightly worried, she approached him.
“Ron?”, he didn’t stir. “Ron!”
“Huh?”, his head jerked up at her but it wasn’t clear whether he actually saw her with his bloodshot eyes and he turned it back at the window three seconds later. “Hey.”, he aspirated.
“What the – ”
“He’s been like that all week.”, Ginevra had come downstairs.
“What happened?”, they shortly hugged each other for a welcome.
“You found your parents?”
“On Tuesday already. But they needed some time to make themselves at home again. Our house has been empty since, so it wasn’t much of a problem to move back in. I did the cleaning and arranging. Some pipes had collapsed and the ground floor was more or less awash, but I fixed that all. So? What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s gone mad – ”, Ron said, still fixating the window.
“Who’s gone mad?”
“Harry.”, the siblings said at once.
“He’s been put on the Avenger case,”, Ginevra started to explain, “But Ron doesn’t want to do it.”
“That’s a barbaric sadist!”, Ron moaned.
“Well, then take a different case,”, Hermione suggested.
“He can’t.”, Ginevra whispered. “He feels responsible for Harry, and that one seems to have been drawn into a wormhole once he agreed. Now he’s been dropping photos all over the place in his mania. When he comes home in the evening, he can hardly talk about anything else and he walks the house with folders in thoughts before he goes to bed – they just slip out at random places! We’ve seen enough of that Avenger’s work by now. And Harry too, if I think about it. He hasn’t slept a single night without a nightmare, but he’s become obsessed with that monster. I think, the job’s affecting him even more than it had done Mad-Eye. Luna’s started trapping him upstairs then.”
“Is she here?”
“Yes. She’s been here since Wednesday. But she’s gone crazy too. More than usual, I mean. Pops up out of nowhere, totally silent. Mum says, she’s totally amazing at Apparating, but if you ask me, she learned to make herself invisible without a wand. It mostly lies on the table in the sitting room, but she’s everywhere else.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, even Luna can’t split herself. She’s not a mass murderer.”, his hair wrapped in a towel and wet stains on his emerald shirt, Draco had entered the scene from above, carefully skipping a certain stair. “Hey.”
“Hi.”, replied Hermione.
“Back already?”
“Seems so, doesn’t it?”, Hermione smirked. “Has nobody repaired that stair yet? How are you?”, Draco just shrugged.
“He can’t complain, can he?”, Ron snorted at the glass. “Living at Mum’s expenses,”
“Ron,”, that one warned, having heard it during her conversation with the Grangers.
“Is Harry upstairs? I’d like to have a word with him.”, she already started towards the staircase but Draco blocked her path, which made him squint from the noise when he was forced to step back up onto the creaking stair.
“Er, no.”
“Pardon?”, she blinked at him.
“He’s not here.”
“What do you mean, he’s not here?”, Hermione raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t do that, you know I don’t like it.”, that made her raise it even higher.
“And it doesn’t bring him back.”, the second brow wandered upwards. “Neither.”
“He’s gone just minutes ago.”, said Ginevra. “Actually I’m surprised, you haven’t met him outside. No idea where he’s gone. Didn’t drop a word. He just stormed outside, looking like a beggar.”
“A – beggar?”
“I’ve never seen him so messed before. And that means something, since I’ve seen him in his worst states, if you can recall.”
“Oh yes, I can.”, Hermione snapped, her slightly tanned arms on her hips. “And he didn’t tell you where he went?”
“I’ve said that, haven’t I?”, noted Ginevra. “Relax, Mum. He’s grown up.”, that could have been meant for both Hermione and Ginevra’s mother; either of them had opened their mouths for protest. “He can take care of himself.”
“You have no idea.”, Hermione huffed. “He’s still the careless moron from our first year. Okay, he’s grown – in a little more than just his size too, but I wouldn’t be too sure that he knows what he does, when he storms out of the house, looking like a beggar. I mean, it’s his birthday! He can’t just – ”
“You shouldn’t be so worried.”, even Ron startled up now.
“There!”, Ginevra murmured and pointed her entire left hand at Luna’s amused face that beamed at them from a dresser by the window on the other side of the kitchen where she sat, dangling her legs, her wand stuck behind her right ear. “What have I told you?”
“Er – I have seen her coming from the sitting room,”, Draco meant, but was ignored.
“Hey.”, Hermione greeted.
“Hello.”
“Why shouldn’t I be worried in your opinion?”
“Because he does know what he does. It doesn’t mean I think it’s wise what he went for, but he has indeed grown. Mostly grown close to some principles, but he’s becoming more and more his parents’ son. And this way your hair will only get thinner, Draco. You’ve been carrying this turban for three hours now. That’s not good for your hair and neck and your head would cool better if you loosened it instead of washing your face every ten minutes. The air is warm enough for drying it as well, you know,”
“Blimey!”, mumbled Ron. “Why does she always have to do everything with a smile!”
“Well, thanks, Mum.”, Draco grunted and disappeared upstairs.
~~#~~
They were far too big for him, but they were necessary. The leather belt was all that kept the torn jeans on his bony hips. Above his old pair of trainers, they were turned up twice to fit his legs and the worn out grey T-shirt reached almost below his buttocks, the sleeves’ seams hanging around his elbows instead of half down the upper arms as they should. Ron was simply too tall. Though the disguise was necessary. He could have used Polyjuice Potion, but he didn’t want to. Now he had to pay for it. Fortunately his hair had ever been tameable enough to hide his scar, still the rest was a total mess as usual. So was his sight. The glasses and his wand were hidden in his Mokeskin Pouch. If anyone would recognise him, then for the glasses. Therefore he did his best not to stagger, only perceiving rough shapes in the light-flooded street.
Some children were playing a little further down. He could see colours dancing and hear them cheer. A – person – hurried past him. From the corner of his eye he could just see that – they – didn’t bother him. Finally there was the big tree and the church, the wall. He searched it for a difference so as to find that kissing gate. Eventually he did and – was forced to realise that it was locked. Why would someone lock the door to the graveyard on such a bright day? Startling him, a falcon screeched from the top of the church’s ridge turret. He had to risk it.
Cautiously, he did a checking glance up and down the street and clearly sure not to be seen, he reached into his pouch for the glasses. Now he could see that the falcon had caught something with its claws, on which it was pecking now, apparently a mouse. Another look around confirmed that he was alone in the hot summer sun. The children had moved into a shady side alley and away. Apart from another screech of the falcon and a soothing breeze making the leaves on the tree swish, the street was silent. A little too suspicious. Quickly, he retrieved his wand from the pouch as well before he hid it under the T-shirt again and clutched the phial in the other hand tighter.
“Homenum Revelio.”, he whispered up the street and did it another time down, but nothing happened and when he pointed his wand at the door, he got the same result. “Alohomora.”, he hissed, but it didn’t work either.
Why would someone lock the door to the graveyard on such a bright day – magically? And who? Something was definitely wrong there. Giving it a try, he swung himself over the low wall. Had he imagined? It had felt like he had just crossed some shield, and he knew that feeling well. Someone had cast a shield over the graveyard. But why? Ignoring the war memorial changing its shape as he passed it, he snuck around the church, crouching by the wall, careful not to miss any hint of movement and, though sure that he had been discovered anyway, he scanned the rows. Nobody there. If this was meant to be a trap, he had just jumped straight into it and from the feeling of being watched he had, taking out his Invisibility Cloak, was no help. Whoever they were, they had him. His heart hammered up in his throat and he knew the sweat on his forehead and palms was not only due to the heat of the day.
Exactly that heart did a jump when he did, so shocked that he didn’t give a sound when his back met hard with the church wall. He had completely forgotten. Twelve o’clock, rang the small bell. That was why the street was empty. Everyone was at lunch. Yet pounding heavily, his heart throbbed against his ribs now, just where it belonged, and he leant to the wall at the corner, trying to calm his heavy breathing until the bell fell still again. Having decided to take a glance around that corner, his heart stopped for a second anyway.
An angel sat by a grave. Their grave. Shining white was the hooded cloak of the kneeling person, in front of his parents’ final resting place. Fearing he would crush the vessel in his left hand, Harry loosened the grip a bit, but tightened it on his wand that he pointed straight at the stranger who rose gently and turned to him. Framed by the hood, a plain white female mask with a sharp, thin nose and faintly smiling lips covered their face. The eyes behind were black marbles, being the only dark about the angelic figure. The falcon shrieked another time and Harry’s neck cracked when his head and wand zoomed at the glowing white fog that fell to his right, becoming a similar character, the floor length cloak covering everything nearly seamless from the mask down. But this mask had no slits for eyes. Where should be holes, was plain white, melting with the rest of the mask. A red and white dog came from behind the Dumbledores’ gravestone and transformed to a third of them, rushing to his other side as fog alike, faced with Harry’s wand as well.
Frightened to the bone, but determined enough to not give in, Harry pointed his wand back at the first person, stiffening when each of them stretched their white arms forward from beneath their cloaks. The left held a wooden box, the right a bouquet of white flowers and the one by his parents’ grave, only their right hand up. Gentle moving fingers in a white glove made Harry’s wand arm lower without effort and he felt the phial slip forward. Desperately trying to hold it, his left arm followed the gesture as the figure tried to summon it. Unable to move his feet from the ground as though they were glued to it, he had to watch it slither from his fingertips and stop floating between him and the stranger who clenched their fist. A scrunching sound and the crystal vessel collapsed, causing the memory to vaporise in a brief glow.
Pieces of glass and a white string fell to the ground before Harry’s aghast stare and the figure opened their hand again, a white light bulb now appearing on it. Harry eyed it as it floated closer to him when the wooden box did, which settled down on his arms he strangely voluntarily held out for it. The light halted only four feet away from him and the hand was lowered; a woman’s voice began to speak to him.
“This is no place for burying memories, my son, and memories aren’t meant to be buried.”, his mother said, echoing from far away it seemed.
“Mum?”, he asked the light. “Who are they?”
“Let the dead rest,”, she answered, “And celebrate your life with the living.”, the light was gone.
Blinded by another, he found himself surrounded by the glowing fog again and the three soared high into the sky, becoming one beam and disappeared into nowhere. The feeling of being under a securing shield vanished with them and looking back down on the tombs, he found a bundle of white hyacinths on the grave left to his parents’. The box on his arms and the wand still clutched tight, he paced past the shards and string in the short grass, over to it. Having been covered with snow at his first visit, he hadn’t seen the sign he did now, spanning over the whole slab below the big Runic Cross that had many names in runes on it.
Eager to find out what was inside, Harry knelt down like the stranger had had and opened the box. Telling from the folder that rested on top of what filled it to the rim and a curious look specifically down the small gap at the side, it contained nothing other than such. He opened the lid and found a clean cut piece of parchment, the same kind of runes written on it as on the cross. With trembling fingers he lifted it and a sheet of strangely clean white, whiter than he had ever seen any parchment be, and his eyes popped out on the old, yellowed articles from the Prophet below. It were articles he could remember Hermione having mentioned. About Eileen Prince, from her school days until she married Tobias Snape, until the one that spoke of her having become mother. That was the end of the folder. Harry closed it, took it out and carefully placed it on the grave with the sign of the Deathly Hallows. The first article in the next folder was about the rich Samantha and Matthew Potter announcing how proud they were now to have a son. It even had a photo of them with the baby James printed along.
For some moments, he only stared at the parchment with runes he had placed at the box’s right, wondering what they meant, but believing that Hermione would be able to tell him. Then his look drifted onto his parents’ grave’s slab. On that, lay a single white rose and lily.
~~#~~
Ashen, Hermione sat at the kitchen table with Ginevra and Luna. Outside in the garden, another table had been set by a busy Molly Weasley and all sorts of friends had arrived. Half of the DA was there, those that were left of the Order of the Phoenix, Bill, Fleur, Charlie, George and of course everyone who had been in The Burrow already, wearing what they had felt like, on Harry’s demand. Naturally, the dress code ranged from jeans and T-shirts to miniskirts and strappy tops, elegant trousers and shirts or blouses, delicate dresses, simple or ornamented robes and – Hagrid’s everyday wear, adorned with his most artistic and only tie.
They were chatting lively while Molly asked for the time, constantly, annoying them all. Hermione, however, was far from living. But that was her own fault. She had pleaded Ginny to get her one of Harry’s folders. Now; luckily not moving; very similar photos of people trussed up to chairs laid spread on the clean kitchen table. The major colour was red and they could hardly be recognised as former human beings, their identity only conjecturable by their ghastly faces and though all their eyes had been closed, even spookier, with a Sickle pinned against each, it was the last one would want look at, especially when actually being supposed to wait for a birthday party to begin. But the birthday boy was long time in coming anyway.
Luna stood up like she had done several times, and went for checking the Weasleys’ famous clock that had gained four more hands over the summer when more rooms had been successfully attached to the house’s third floor against every structural logic. All hands but one were on `home´, the exception still pointed at `lost´. But by the moment she looked at it, that hand jumped to `travelling´. Quicker than a Grindylow abused as a cannonball, Luna sped back into the kitchen, the photos soaring into the Ministry folder with the top-secret-stamp in Harry’s order even before she came to halt and it landed neatly in her hands. Less than three seconds after she had caught it, she stood where she had slid to stand before, panting a little. The other two girls were too startled to realise what had happened when Harry already came shuffling from behind Luna.
“Harry!”, Hermione gasped. “Where the – Harry?”
“Huh?”, he must have noticed her just then, having been too amazed by Luna’s colourful dress – or the golden lightning bolts that dangled from her ears.
“What have you – what have you got there?”
“Er – ”, Harry gazed down on the piece of white parchment in his right hand when Hermione had stood up and staggered towards him. “I – where is everyone?”
“They’re waiting for you, outside.”, Ginevra answered him concerned. “Harry, you’ve been gone for five hours.”
“I – I know – ”, he aspirated. “Hard to miss the bell above my head, was it?”
“Bell?”, Hermione and Ginevra said together.
“I’ll be – upstairs, getting out of that crap, okay? Erm – can you – can you decipher that for me in the meantime, Hermione?”
She had hardly gotten hold of the sheet, he was already hurrying to the staircase, ignoring the creaking stair, and out of sight. Completely beside herself, she stared at the kind of runes she had seen last only a week ago. She stared at them so long –
“`J´? Ha- `J´ – Harry? Who – oh my god – ”
“Yes?”, he was back in clean black shoes and trousers, a long-sleeved white shirt and with his still shoulder-length chaos of freshly washed hair, right when she had read it fluently a second time.
“Who – um – who is – J?”, Hermione blinked heavily, his glasses and the green behind being no real distraction.
“Jay? Jay who?”
“Not Jay, the letter J. Um – `This once belonged to your grandfather.´”, she read aloud. “`I completed it over the past years. In hope, possessing and carrying it on will bring you the same pleasure as it had him, I wish you all possible happiness on your further path. May it be a path of brightest light..Happy 18th Birthday.´ It’s signed with `J.´ Who is – ”
“My grandfather, you say?”, Harry’s eyebrows narrowed. “Are you absolutely sure?”
“Positive.”, both considered for some moments.
“James.”, Harry said.
“Harry,”
“If it belonged to my grand- no – I mean, it’s – but – ”
“What is it, Harry? Carry on what?”, something told her that she was supposed to know what he had received. “And who gave it to you?”
“Mum – er – ”, her shook his head, “I – I mean – no idea – but – ”
“Who.”, Hermione dropped her hands, drilling her eyes into his.
“Er – can we discuss that later, please? I’m hungry.”
“Harry! You give me that and expect me to – ”, she brandished with the sheet, but it was suddenly gone from her fingers.
“Really, I – I mean, it doesn’t run away, does it?”
“It – just did, actually – ”, she stared at her empty hand.
“And you wouldn’t believe me anyway.”
~~#~~