Technologies Collide

A brisk wind put color into the swift seeker's cheeks. His eyes darted quickly, taking in the entire field around him. Those well-trained eyes were not so occupied with the game at hand to miss a few lingering looks at the smoking ginger in the second set of stands to the left. Once, he caught her laughing uproariously as an opponent took a bludger to the nose; another time, he was certain he caught a wink in his direction. The scene changed, suddenly, from the invigorating competition and subtle flirtation to a dark, smoky corridor in the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That same redhead had him pressed against one of the cold stone walls, taking his breath away far more efficiently than any broom-made wind. As he found himself violently snogged, somewhere in the distance the smooth sounds of the Kopper Kettletones could be heard. Louder and louder they grew until his eyes fluttered sleepily open, and the reality of waking hours suddenly sunk in. Disappointment in the prematurely truncated snog lasted but a minute as he rolled to find the subject of his fantasy snoring softly next to him. The smile on his lips broadened, and he leaned up to peck hers. Reaching up to turn off the wizarding wireless he had somehow snuck through American customs, Harry rolled grudgingly out of bed. Today was a busy day, and no matter how good a dream he'd been having, he could not afford to stay in bed. This was mostly because Hermione, his best friend, would never forgive him, and would possibly curse him into oblivion if he missed their appointment.

He ordered room-service, grateful for once for the years of Muggle-world experience, and got quickly ready before it arrived. He'd had one and a half cups of coffee and a handful of bacon before his wife even began to stir, and he was on his way out the door when she finally sat herself up in bed. One thing he loved about her was her ability to sleep. She had a skill for it; she could sleep through anything, and sleep well. She never slept terribly late, never more than 8 perfect hours. He, a frequent insomniac, could have nothing but admiration for that knack of hers.

An ever-present Ginny inspired smile on his face, he made his way out of their rather posh hotel, and down the three blocks to a coffee shop across from New York University, where he was to meet his fellow Muggle-born after her Poly-Sci class. He still couldn't quite believe that after such a complete wizarding education, at the finest institution in the entire Magical World (in his certainly unbiased opinion), she had agreed to attend a Muggle school, in America nonetheless. She had explained many times that it hadn't just been her parents' insistence that had led her here; she also believed that she would be a more, as she put it, "well-rounded citizen and witch if she included in her repertoire Muggle and American experience." He understood that, sort of; but, having had such a dreadful experience growing up Muggle, he couldn't bring himself to truly empathize or allow himself to follow suit. And, from a best friend's perspective, and the perspective of having to listen to his other best friend's bitching and moaning about Hermione's absence, he surely wished she had chosen a different path for her life. Or at least snuck Ron along in her suitcase.

As he mused on these matters, he ordered a grande White Chocolate Mocha, hot, per Hermione's suggestion, and sat down to peruse an abandoned Village Voice. He had just finished a rather scathing review of a Broadway actress' performance at a local gay club when Hermione breezed in from the blustery New York street. She threw a wave in his direction, ordered the same drink he had, and a pumpkin scone to wash it down, then hurried over to join him. She was weighed down by two bags, one holding way-too-large text books, and one, he saw, holding a laptop. One thing he did miss about the Muggle world was the Internet.

Hermione leaned over to kiss his cheek and give him a sort of awkward half-hug, as they were both holding scalding cups of coffee and seated side by side on a rather sinking couch. Even though they had had lunch the day before, when Hermione had picked he and Ginny up at the airport, he was still struck by a great joy at actually seeing her in person. It'd been nearly three months since she'd left for the states, and since they'd all seen her last. He was glad that they had decided to make the trip, even though Ron, who was right in the middle of Auror training, hadn't been able to make it with them.

Herminoe's face was all aglow, with a look that told him she had a secret. It also told him that it would not be a secret for very long. Sure enough:

"Harry, Ohmygosh, I have to show you what I found this morning!" She half-gasped as she tugged out her laptop with her free hand.

"It's on the computer?" He asked, bewildered by the fact that anything of great interest to him could be found online.

"Yes. On Facebook!"

"What's?..."

But she interrupted his question with: "This."

She had pulled up a blue and white screen, with faces followed by what seemed to be personal messages from the people in the pictures listed next to them. One had a name he recognized as a girl who Hermione had become good friends with, and had a message that said "This class sucks" with about a thousand exclamation points.

"What am I looking at?"

"This is a, er, social-networking website. Basically people get on here, put pictures of themselves, find people they know or have known, and can keep in touch. These little blurbs here are called statuses, and they are a way to let your friends know what you're up to or what's on your mind. The only reason I have one is because I kept getting really judgmental looks from people when I said I had no idea what Facebook was."

"I've never taken you as much of a conformist Miss Granger," Harry smirked to hide is confusion.

"Well, sometimes it is easier. Plus everyone I know is on here, even some of my Professors. No one talks on the phone anymore, they communicate through this. I figured, "What the Hell?" It makes life a little easier." And with a laugh she added "It also can be rather addictive. I get on it every day. Ohhh, that reminds me. I've found a few other wizards and witches on here, and today I found something amazing that I just had to show you."

With moves too fast for even his seeker-trained eyes to follow, she changed to page to another one that appeared quite similar to the first, except there was a picture in the upper left-hand corner of—

"My parents?!?!"

"Yes. This is a fanpage. It's something someone creates that is in support of a common point of interest and people can become a fan of it to show their support. One of my wizard friends, a boy from Finland who at school in Chicago, invited me to join it. It's so neat how it's done. Since it's so obviously Wizard, someone's found a way to make the webpage—the Internet webpage—unplottable. Incredible!! So you have to have Magic in your DNA to be able to even know it exists. Somehow, they've got a detector that can test the genes in your fingertips and see if there's magic in your blood."

"Uh…cool."

"It's really quite ingenious if you know what I'm talking about. It's okay that you don't. Anyway, someone has created a fanpage for Lily and James Potter. Look, it's full of pictures of them throughout the years, and people have posted stories about how they touched their lives. I read about twenty this morning and was almost late for class. I was crying and laughing."

Harry could not reply as she began to click through pictures he had never seen of his long-deceased, and ever-missed parents. There were pictures from their school years, from their wedding, from the hospital when Harry was born, and even pictures from their childhoods before Hogwarts. A whole album of Lily had been posted by a user called Tunie D. He was utterly perplexed by who could have such intimate, early photographs of his Muggle-raised mother. It wasn't until Hermione gasped that he began to catch on.

"Harry, I—I, think…it's your aunt!"

"Oh my god! How is that…how could she?"

"Technically, she has magic in her blood, through Lily. I guess they've advanced the technology. Hold on."

Another fifteen seconds of rapid-fire clicking and typing and she emerged seemingly satisfied.

"Wow, this is unbelievable. He's a genius."

Unable to hide the exasperation from his voice, Harry burst out with: "Hermione, do you mind cluing me in?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry Harry. Yes, yes, of course. Okay, well the guy that developed the Wizard-friendly technology has updated it to include those who are related, and supportive of, witches and wizards. That means that someone like Petunia, sister to Lily, can access wizarding web-sites. That also means, Harry, that she has no malicious will towards her, because it is impossible to access the sites if you do not have almost total positive energy for the related magic party."

"So, you're telling me that Petunia…that bit…that…my aunt, who never once had a good thing to say about my parents, is allowed onto this website. That would have to mean that she actually likes my mum, and my dad for that matter. Is that right? How is that even possible?"

"Well, I think the rules included guilt for past wrongdoings in favor of the magic relation. Harry, I've always thought that your aunt had it in her to come around to our world. She, well, she always acted so horribly out of jealous, didn't she?"

"Did she? I don't know, I always had trouble seeing past the abuse and neglect and general misery she put me through."

"I know, I know. But I think I'm right, and I think this proves it. Maybe you should give her another shot."

"Well, we'll see. Anyway, I want to see more of this, er, page."

"Yes of course!" Hermione began to bustle away on the page, and was stopped by a glance at the time indicated in the bottom right-hand corner of the screen. "Merlin's beard! I nearly forgot about my study session. Cauldron-bottom, I was going to try to catch up with you in person before I had to go. You see what I mean about Facebook? It's destructive! Well, how about this. I don't need my computer to study American History. You take it with you back to the hotel and look at this page. You think you can handle the navigation."

Barely looking up from the screen Harry muttered dismissively "Yes Hermione."

Smirking to herself, Hermione gathered her things, and turned back to him with a jab in his side.

"Hey," Harry roared in shock. "What's the idea?"

"Shouldn't you be heading back to your girlfriend?"

"Oh, yeah, you're right. Er, did you say I could take this with me?"

"Yes Harry. Honestly, you get so interested in things sometimes you shut out the entire world."

"Yeah, well, you do the same thing when you study, so I don't want to hear it."

Laughing boisterously, the two exited with their respective bags and beverages. Hermione made sure Harry hailed a taxi and gave the driver the correct address, and then made her way down the block to another coffee shop.

When Harry arrived back at his hotel, he could not get back up to his room fast enough. He was actually slightly disappointed to find Ginny awake, because that meant that he wouldn't have time to himself to explore his parents' lives. Disappointment didn't last, once again, because he had finally begun to learn how to share the important things in his life with the people he loved. Shutting them out had not only become tiresome, it had put quite a strain on the relationships he cherished most. He'd learned the hard way that sharing in the first place was far less difficult than making up for lost time.

He was greeted pleasantly with a hearty kiss; but, he could waste no more time than that. He rushed to the bed, pulling her with him, and had the laptop out and working before she'd even gotten settled.

"Harry, what's going on? I thought you were meeting Hermione this morning. What is this?"

"It's a laptop, you know, like a computer. I don't really know how to explain it; but, there's something on here about my parents and we have to look at it."

"Er, okay. Geez Harry I don't know if I've ever seen you this excited. Maybe when we won the Quidditch Cup, but that's it."

Laughing, "Yeah, well, I'd say I'm far more excited than for any sporting victory. Look!"

And for hours they scrolled through picture after picture of his beloved parents, and read story after story from people who'd had first-hand, or second-hand involvement in their lives. One in particular stood out to Harry, posted by Tunie D. He found an unfamiliar compassion for his old guardian as he read her stories of childhood fun, jealousy, and adult spite and eventual guild and forgiveness.

"Wow, Harry," Ginny said after they'd sat in stunned silence for a good two minutes, "Who'd ever imagine she'd had all that hidden beneath her bitchy exterior?"

"Yeah, I know."

Seeing his stunned, conflicted expression, Ginny leaned over to put her hand on his cheek. "Hey hot-stuff, what do you say we give her a call when we get back home? See if she's this changed in person?"

Harry paused for a minute, still asking himself whether he'd ever be willing to forgive his only surviving relatives for the treatment they'd bestowed on him for so many years. Skimming back over the typed words seemingly full of sincere sentimentality and regret, he decided he had to give it a shot.

"Yeah, okay. What's to lose?"

"Exactly." Satisfied, Ginny leaned over to give her man a good, lingering kiss.

Breaking the kiss, Harry sighed, "As fulfilling as your kisses are, if I don't get some real food in me, I may pass out."

"Well, we don't want that. I need you good and strong for our last night in this room. How about we get Hermione to show us where to find some authentic New York pizza."

"Mmm, sounds perfect."

"Sweet!"

Harry gathered the laptop and his American money, and he and Ginny headed out the door. As they waited for the elevator, Ginny mused, "You know, wouldn't it be crazy if they made something like Facebook for the wizarding world?"

Laughing, Harry thought for a second, then replied "Yeah. Imagine, no more owls, or howlers, or even sending Patronuses like the Order."

"Well, I was thinking more along the lines of the Harry Potter fanpage: The-Chosen-One, fighting Dark Magic all from the comfort of his own desk chair!"

Laughing, they got onto the elevator, with thoughts of Muggle technologies and wizarding magic dancing through their thoughts.