Disclaimer - I don't own Harry Potter or any of the Harry Potter characters. If I did, this story would be for sale in a store, and not on this website for free.
Sixteen-year-old Harry Potter was nervous. On the pretense of needing research for a school project, he was sitting in the local library in front of a computer, debating the merits of what he was about to do. It was the perfect time for research. Ordinarily the library had a thirty minute limit on internet connections, however, mid-afternoon on a Thursday was always a time when there was little to no interest in the internet at this particular library. He and Ms. Johnson, the young librarian in charge of the internet use on this day of the week had come to an understanding. Unless the internet lounge filled to its capacity and people were beginning to wait for a connection, she would not kick him out when his thirty minutes were up.
Harry didn't really need to research his current paper any further. He had finished writing it more than a week ago, but the excuse got him out of the house. It wasn't the first time that Harry had lied to his Aunt Petunia and his Uncle Vernon about being finished with his homework. It was a pattern of behavior that he developed very early on in his scholastic career, and one that had spared him countless hours away from the family. It was especially effective now that his cousin Dudley was attending Smeltings, the boarding school that his Uncle Vernon had attended in his youth. Harry attended the local state school, Stonewall High. Now that he no longer needed the extra study time to finish Dudley's homework for him, it meant that he had hours of free time in which to read, or complete extra credit assignments for teachers.
Today's research was different. There were no papers to write, no homework to finish. Today, Harry was attempting to find out about his parents. Or he would be, if he could get up the nerve. He'd heard the story only once while growing up, and it was obvious that the minor details imparted by his relatives were all he was going to get out of them. Harry knew only the bare facts of what had happened the night his parents died. His parents had been out at a Halloween party that evening and had left him at home with a sitter. They'd been in a car accident, and had both been killed instantly.
Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon enjoyed telling Harry that his parents had been worthless drunks and that the accident that forced them to take him in was inevitable. However, Harry wasn't entirely sure that they were telling the truth. It was obvious to him that there had been no love lost between the Potters and the Dursley's. Whether that had been at his parents or the Dursley's instigation he was unsure, but the fact remained that his Aunt and Uncle hated his parents more than anything else, and that was saying something. The Department of Family Services had brought him to the Dursley's home once they had determined that these were the people who should have custody of him. Harry assumed that there hadn't been anyone else, or that perhaps his parents hadn't had a will with instructions on who should get custody.
He had now been looking at the blank search box of a popular search engine for five minutes, trying to get up the nerve to type in his parents names and locate the details of the accident. It wasn't that he wanted to read all of the gory details, he just needed to know exactly what happened. Had the accident been his parent's fault? Were they really drunk? More than anything he wanted to see a picture of them. Not of they way they looked after they died, but just to see what they looked like. He had never known. If Aunt Petunia had any pictures of James and Lily Potter, she had never seen fit to share them with Harry, and he had begun to suspect that any pictures that she had once owned had long since been destroyed.
It wasn't the first time that Harry had considered finding the information on his parents' death, but it was the first time that he had come this far in his decision to search. Screwing up his courage, and praying that he would find something, he entered the little information he had into the search engine. James and Lily Potter – Car Accident – October 31, 1981. He pushed the search button.
The page loaded quickly, bringing up several articles on the car accident on the motorway outside of Exmoor nearly fifteen years previous. The first article on the list was from the Exmoor Times, which Harry read from beginning to end.
November 1, 1981 - James and Lily Potter, a local philanthropic couple, were tragically killed in a car accident, late yesterday evening, while returning home from a Halloween ball in Exmoor to benefit children suffering from Leukemia. Mr. and Mrs. Potter were well known in the local community for their charitable works and donations, continuing on a tradition of the Potter family held in this area for generations. Along with friends Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew, Mr. and Mrs. Potter were returning to Godric's Hollow on the motorway, when a drunk driver crossed into their lane and hit them head on, all members of the Potter's party were killed. The driver of the second vehicle remains in critical condition at the local hospital, and is not expected to survive his injuries. Mrs. Bathilda Bagshot, a neighbor of the Potter's stated, "The Potter's have been member's of this community for generations, and are well known for their charitable works. The tragic loss of James and Lily at such a young age is something that we will not soon forget. I can only hope that their young son is raised knowing that his parents were wonderful people, who cared deeply for others, and who loved him very much." James and Lily are survived by their young son Harry, and by their one remaining housemate, Remus Lupin, who stayed home last evening to care for Harry, when the babysitter called advising the couple that she was sick, and would be unable to watch young Harry as originally planned. Mr. Lupin was unavailable for comment.
Harry sat in front of the computer, with tears running down his face. He couldn't seem to look away from the brief newspaper article telling the story of his parent's death. It was unexpected to say the least. Not that the accident was not their fault, Harry had expected that his relatives were lying to him about that, but that he should be so upset about their deaths. It wasn't as if this were a recent occurrence, he'd been living with the knowledge of the car accident for 15 years after all.
It was at that moment that Ms. Johnson walked past his computer desk while doing her rounds of the Internet lounge to ensure that nothing inappropriate was going on. "Harry," she whispered, "what is it dear?" Ms. Johnson had a soft spot for Harry, she'd known him since he was a child, and he delighted in learning. It was always a joy to see him walk in the doors, and watch his face transform from that of a downtrodden child, to an intelligent, happy young man. She'd never seen him upset to the point of tears before; it was a disturbing sight, and one that she hoped never to see again. First though, she had to calm him down.
Harry couldn't bring himself to speak through his tears. He pointed at the computer screen, indicating that the article he was reading was somehow to blame. Ms. Johnson quickly scanned the article, eyes widening with each line. She'd known, of course, that Harry was an orphan. He never tried to hide the fact that there was no love lost between himself and his relatives. What she hadn't realized was that Harry had little or no knowledge of his parent's deaths. She hit the print button on the computer and said, "Harry dear, come with me into the office. You can do your research there in private. There's no need to look up something this upsetting out here in front of everyone. Mrs. Harris and I are the only ones here today, so there'll be an extra computer, you won't be in anybody's way."
Harry nodded, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand and following Ms. Johnson to the office. She handed him a box of tissues for his eyes and nose, and set him up on the spare computer after quietly explaining to Mrs. Harris why she was letting Harry do his research in private, rather than using the internet lounge as he usually did. Mrs. Harris, a kind older lady, slightly heavyset, grey haired and warm brown eyes, nodded sympathetically. While Harry began typing his research into the search engine again, hoping to find more articles, the two librarians read the printout of the first article he had turned up.
The two ladies eyes widened as they read the article. Philanthropic couple? But that implied that there was money! Harry was a sweet boy, everyone adored him, but he didn't look as though a penny more than absolutely necessary was ever spent on him. They spent a moment looking over the boy who had captured their hearts. He was too thin, he always had been, but he looked much smaller than he truly was due to the overlarge clothing he was forced to wear. Mrs. Harris lived near Harry's family, and she said more than once that she believed he was forced to wear his cousin's old clothes. He had messy black hair, which seemed to be either his rebellion against his relatives, or simply something the child couldn't do anything about, as he never wore it in any other style. He also had a relatively new, though obviously inexpensive, pair of glasses. The ladies suspected that the Dursleys refused to purchase new glasses for Harry until the school nurse wrote a note saying they were necessary. The boy often went years between pairs. Perhaps Harry's most striking feature of all was his eyes. They were almond shaped and the brightest green that anyone had ever seen. Right now those eyes, so striking even hidden behind glasses, were glassy with tears for the parents he had never known.
"Harry dear," Mrs. Harris said kindly, "You take all the time you need to do this research. Ms. Johnson and I don't need that computer at all today. And you print out anything that you want. There won't be any charge for the copies."
"Thank you Mrs. Harris," Harry responded quietly. "I'm sorry for being such a bother, but I wanted to know, about my parents I mean. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon never tell me anything. This is the only way that I could find out."
"It's no trouble at all dear. If you need any help you just come and find me. I'll be happy to point you in the right direction."
Ms. Johnson returned to her watch over the Internet lounge and Mrs. Harris sat down behind her own computer. She doubted that Harry would think to look for his parent's will on the internet, not at this early stage. He was thirsting for knowledge, any knowledge about who his parents were, not about what they had. Mrs. Harris had no such driving reason for her search. If the article she just read had been correct, and the Potters were philanthropists known for charitable works, then they had had money with which to do those works. That begged the question, where was that money now? Certainly it wasn't being spent on their son, who often looked as if his clothes came out of the rag pile.
Mrs. Harris was going to start her own search. She was going to track down what rightfully belonged to Harry, and determine what course of action he needed to take to get what was his. She thought to herself, that the first step might be finding this Remus Lupin, who had apparently been living with the Potters in their home at the time of their deaths.
Harry in the meantime had been quietly packing his research into his rucksack, preparing to leave. "Good bye Mrs. Harris, I have to go home so that I can get supper started. Thank you for letting me look in here."
"It was no trouble dear," Mrs. Harris replied. "You come back when you can dear. As long as there is a spare computer, you don't need to do this research out in the public eye. If you'd like, I can see what I can find for you."
"Oh, I don't want to be a bother…"
"It's no trouble dear, I am a research librarian after all. I'll print out and save anything I run across for you dear. How's that?"
Harry smiled shyly, "I'd really appreciate it Mrs. Harris. I don't get to come here as often as I'd like, and I don't have internet access at home. It makes looking this up difficult."
"Don't you worry dear. I'll bring the research home with me, you stop by on your way home from school to pick it up. I have Tuesday and Thursday afternoons off. If I'm not in on those afternoons, I'll leave a folder tucked in the door for you if there's anything new."
"Thank you so much! It's just, I've always wanted to know, and my aunt and uncle wouldn't tell me anything."
"You hurry home now dear, I'd hate for you to get in trouble and lose any library privileges."
"Yes Mrs. Harris. Will you tell Ms. Johnson that I said goodbye?"
"I'll tell her dear. Run along now."
"Bye."
As Harry left, Mrs. Harris turned back to her computer and typed Remus Lupin into her search engine.
