Twelve Years Later
31 August 1993
"Jonathan! Let's go!" I called up the stairs. "I don't mind getting there later, but you wanted to see your friends!"
A moment later a pair of feet came bounding down the stairs and a blur passed by me.
"I'm waiting on you, Mum!"
I took a deep breath before turning to follow.
"You can drop the 'wise guy' right now. I'm not above grounding you the day before term starts."
The snarky teenager mumbled something incoherently under his breath, probably something to do with his "miserably frozen summer holiday" before smiling and offering a feeble apology. I bit back the remark I so wanted to issue. If there's anything I've learned from fourteen years of being a single mother, it's that patience is a virtue…and I have none. As my son, neither did Jonathan. If one of us lost control the other was soon to follow.
We made our way out the front doors and down the long path to the gates in silence. It seemed most of our summer was spent in silence. Silence was better than the alternative of yelling I suppose.
Don't get me wrong. I love being a mother. It is the single, greatest joy in my life and I wouldn't trade any of it, especially the yelling matches, for anything. Still, I missed the days where he thought I was the greatest person to grace this earth.
Once we'd passed through the protective enchantments, I silently offered him my arm and we apparated to the Leaky Cauldron in London. The instant we arrived, Jonathan pulled his arm from mine and took off running for the back door.
"Thanks, Mum! See you later!"
"Buy your school supplies first! And don't forget to go my Madam Malkins!" I called after his retreating figure. I heaved a great sigh and pinched the bridge of my nose. I'd likely have to find him later and remind him.
For most parents whose kids attended an exclusive boarding school for nearly ten months of the year, I suppose the start of term brought on a sense of longing and dread for both parties. For the parent it was because it would be several months before they saw their child again. For the child it was because school was starting.
Start of term did neither for Jonathan and I. Partially because Jonathan and I would continue to see each other on a daily basis since I taught at his school. But mostly it was because Hogwarts was not your typical boarding school. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was just that, a school of magic for the young witch and wizard to hone their craft. I'd been teaching at Hogwarts for as long as Jonathan had been attending, four years.
I slowly made my way to the back of the Cauldron and through the back door into the little alley. I tapped the third brick above the trash bin with my wand to reveal the secret entrance to Diagon Alley. Diagon Alley was one of the magical hubs in London, and it's where most, if not all, the students of Hogwarts bought their school supplies. Diagon Alley offered more than just school supplies though.
On a lamp post just inside the arched entrance was a wanted poster for one Sirius Black. Black had recently escaped the wizard prison Azkaban and the wizarding world was going frantic over it. No one had ever escaped from Azkaban before. Black had been imprisoned for fifteen counts of murder, twelve of them were Muggles, and thirteen of them were committed at the same time. "Muggle" is the term used for someone who doesn't have magic. Seeing Black screaming like a mad banshee in the poster didn't fill me with fear like it did most. When I looked at Black all I felt was a great deal of loss and sadness.
After going by Gringotts, I went into Scribbulus for some ink my self-grading quills, among other things. I took my time going from shop to shop talking to a few students who weren't too embarrassed to be seen talking to a teacher outside of school. When I got to Flourish and Blotts, I really took my time. I loved browsing through the Astronomy and Transfiguration sections for the new arrivals. I picked up a few books that seemed interesting and figured I'd try reading them this year. As the Professor of Astronomy, all of my classes were held late at night.
As I was walking by Quality Quidditch Supplies, I saw a familiar mop of untidy black hair. I stepped in to say hi. I came upon the trio of friends as they were admiring a new broom model. I read the sign over their shoulder.
"Hmm…sounds impressive, but I'd still manage to fall off."
Two of the three gave a little start of surprise, but Harry seemed immune to it.
"Professor Porter!"
"Hi, Hermione, Ron. Hello, Harry."
"Hi, Ms.…er—Professor Porter," Harry stumbled as he ran a hand through his hair.
"We're not at school yet, Harry. 'Ms. Porter' will do just fine."
I have known Harry all his life; Jonathan and I lived across the street from his Aunt and Uncle where he stayed. For most of Harry's life I was Ms. Porter, his slightly loony neighbor. It wasn't until three years ago when he first started attending Hogwarts that I became Professor Porter. Harry was surprised to learn that both Jonathan and I had magic like he did, but he was quickly relieved when he realized he always had someone nearby who could relate to his awful Muggle guardians.
Not that I think Muggles are awful, just those two. Vernon and Petunia Dursley are the worst sort of Muggles imaginable. They know all about the Wizarding world since Petunia's sister, Harry's mother, had been a witch. But they were disgusted with that side of the family. They are as prejudiced about wizards as some wizards are about Muggles. If I had known just how poorly they treated Harry when he was younger, I would have taken him away long ago and raised him as my own. Consequences be damned.
"Did you have a nice summer, Professor?" Hermione asked.
"I did, thank you. The Australis was breath taking, and I swear, I've never seen so many stars in one place in my life. Though, I think Jonathan would dispute the matter."
At the end of last school year I was given the opportunity to observe the stars and view the Aurora Australis from the wizarding observatory Glacier Peake in Antarctica. It was an opportunity I couldn't turn down. Jonathan and I had just returned from our month long stay.
"How was your summer?" I asked.
"Wonderful!" said Hermione.
"Brilliant!" Ron exclaimed.
"My parents and I spent the summer in France."
"Ah, yes. The view from the Eiffel Tower is astonishing, though there aren't many stars to see there. What did your family do, Ron?"
"Dad won the Prophet's Galleon Draw. The whole family went to Egypt to see my oldest brother Bill!"
"Oh! That does sound exciting. I've never been to Egypt before; how were the stars?"
"Er—bright?" he offered with a shoulder shrug. I laughed. When I looked back to Harry though, he looked a little put out having been left behind all summer.
"Though, I am sorry I missed the Marge balloon," I said.
Harry's lip twitched into a smirk as he rubbed his hand over the back of his head. "You heard about that?"
I nodded "I did. What happened, Harry?"
"She was talking about my parents, and I lost control," he explained with a shrug. "She called my Dad a drunk, and…"
"She didn't!" I said loudly, causing passersby to look at us oddly. "That flea-bitten toe-rag. She's lucky I wasn't there. I would have done a lot worse than blow her up."
"Professor!" Hermione exclaimed.
"Right. Sorry. That was the wrong reaction, wasn't it? That was bad, Harry. Very bad. We do not use our magic to take revenge on Muggles…even if they are flea-bitten toe-rags who deserve it."
Harry and Ron laughed; Hermione, however, didn't seem too pleased.
"You're brilliant, Professor," Ron said.
"Thank you, Ron. Would you do me the favor and remind my son of that? He seems to have forgotten it this summer. Speaking of Jonathan, have any of you seen him?"
"No, sorry," they all three said with a shake of their head.
"Wait! There he is!" Hermione said. "He just went into Madam Malkin's."
"Oh good. So he was listening. Well, I will leave you three to it. I'll see you back at the Cauldron for supper."
I waved goodbye and continued on my way. I stopped by Sugarplum's to pick up some chocolate; though it wasn't as good as Honeydukes so I would have to make a trip to Hogsmeade as soon as I could. When I felt all my shopping was complete, I returned to the Leaky Cauldron.
"Katherine!" a friendly, motherly sort of voice called out to me as I entered the front part of the Cauldron.
"Molly," I greeted the woman with a hug. "Arthur."
"Hullo, Katherine. How are you?" Arthur said as he hugged me.
"Brilliant, according to your son," I said.
Arthur and Molly Weasley have been dear friends of mine since the end of my first year teaching when I met them at King's Cross as we waited for the Hogwarts Express to return. Jonathan had wanted to ride the train back to London with his friends. I had some work to finish up at the castle, so it worked out well. Jonathan usually spent the last couple of weeks at the Burrow (as the Weasley's called their family home) while I made preparations at the school. This year was different, however. What with our trip to Glacier Peake and the Weasley's trip to Egypt.
"So, tell me all about Egypt." Molly's face lit up like the Australis as we made our way over to a table.
The three of us sat around one of the tables with some tea as we regaled each other with our trips. We were talking and laughing for more than an hour before the kids began returning. When they were all back we moved to a private dining room for dinner. Jonathan stayed at the far end with the twins.
"Twenty minutes, Jonathan, and then we have to go!" I called as he and the twins began to leave the table. "Jonathan Porter! Listen to me when I…"
"Yes, Mum! I heard you. Twenty minutes." And he was gone before I could say anything else. Fortunately the room was empty apart from Molly and Arthur. I bit the inside of my lip to keep the tears from falling.
"I swear, Molly, you're a saint. You both are, for raising six boys. I don't know how you do it."
"How long has he been giving you attitude like that?" Arthur asked.
"I guess it began at the end of last school year, when I got the offer to go to Glacier Peake. Truth be told, my summer holiday was pretty miserable. I mean, there I was with some of the most amazing skies I've ever seen and I couldn't properly enjoy them. I know he's not into astronomy the way I am, no one ever has been, but I thought…I thought it would be something memorable we could do together. How many people can say that they've spent a month on Antarctica during its winter?" I swiped at the tears falling from my eyes. "Maybe it's my fault; maybe I shouldn't…"
"Now you stop right there, Katherine," Molly said sternly. "None of this is your fault. You have done nothing wrong. You have raised a brilliant and talented boy. It's just…"
"…he's fourteen now," Arthur continued. "He's at that age where boys tend to learn more from their fathers than their mothers. It has nothing to do with you."
I smiled through my tears at their words. "His father? And what does a mother do when the father is no longer in the picture?"
Molly smiled sadly as she placed her hands over mine. "You never did tell us what happened between you and his father. Is there any chance?"
"Molly!" Arthur said reproachfully.
"Oh! Your right, Arthur. I'm sorry, Katherine, you don't have to say anything."
I smiled a little more. "It's alright, Molly." I sighed. "Nothing happened between us. Well…that's not true is it? A lot of 'something' happened, but then there was a lot more nothing. We were young; it was the seventy's. He wasn't ready for children and he ran. So I turned and ran in the opposite direction. But no, I don't think there's any chance, not after all these years."
"Well… In that case…" she smiled wickedly in a way that reminded me of her sons. "There's always our son, Bill. He's single, you know, and very handsome…"
"And too young for me," I said with a laugh. This wasn't the first time she'd suggested I date her son.
"You're not that much older than he is. What is it, five, six years?"
"How old is he again?"
"Twenty-three." She smiled fondly.
I laughed loudly. "Try more like eleven years."
"What! No! You can't be…"
"'Fraid so."
"But you look so young! How do you do it?"
"I'll let you in on a little secret of mine…" I leaned forward and whispered. "I know magic."
"Oh! You!" She sat back and laughed. Then she began to touch some of the wrinkles on her face as though trying to smooth them. Arthur quickly pulled her hands away from her face.
"You're beautiful, Molly, stop it," he said.
The tender smile they shared was darling…and heart-wrenching. I had to look away.
"Now, if you will excuse me. It has been far more than twenty minutes; I must go and fetch my son."
"Katherine," Arthur said as I stood to leave. "Let him stay. We'll see to it that he gets on the train."
"Are you certain you don't mind the extra body?"
"Not at all, Dearie," Molly said as she stood up to hug me. "And I'm not giving up on you and Bill."
"Now I know where Fred and George get their sense of humor from. Goodnight, Molly. Goodnight, Arthur."
I hugged them each once more before heading upstairs. The hallway was narrow and I nearly bumped into Harry as he left Ron's room.
"Oh! Sorry, Ms. Porter."
"That's alright, Harry. Do you know which room Jonathan is in?"
At that very moment there was a soft explosion sound.
"Never mind," I said.
Harry laughed. "Have you see Ron's rat tonic?"
"Why does Ron need rat tonic?"
"It's for his rat, Scabbers. He's really old and I guess Egypt didn't suit him. So Ron bought some rat tonic hoping it would make him better. Only now he can't find it."
"No, sorry, I haven't seen it. You can check with Tom at the bar. If someone found it, they would have turned it in there."
"Thanks. Are… are you all right?"
I smiled. "I'm fine. Just a bit tired. There was hardly any sunlight at Glacier Peake so my sleep schedule was thrown off. It's nothing a few good night's…or rather day's rest won't solve. I'll see you at school tomorrow, Harry."
Before leaving I absent-mindedly decided to reach up and flatten Harry's hair. I was unsuccessful; I always was.
"I don't know why I even try anymore," I said. Harry chuckled. "Goodnight, Harry."
"Night, Ms. Porter."
I moved down the hall as Harry made for the stairs. I lightly tapped on the door from where the explosion had occurred. There was frantic shuffling inside before the door was cracked to reveal a signature flaming red hair.
"It's only Professor Porter; it's alright."
"Hello, Fred. Is my son in there?"
"Hold on let me check." He stepped back from the door a little, allowing it to open further in the process. I could see singed spots dotted on the floor but decided not to question it.
"Is there a Mi-son in here? Mi-son anyone? Sorry, Professor," Fred said with a grin as he turned back around.
I looked over his shoulder at the boy sitting on the bed. "Jonathan…"
"Five more minutes, Mum, please. We've almost…"
"Jonathan, come here," I said calmly.
"Mum, please, we nearly…"
I gave him the look that always used to work when he was younger. Surprisingly it had the same affect now. He grudgingly came to the door, muttering his goodbyes.
"I am leaving for the castle now."
"But…"
"You…" I cut across him sternly, "…will be arriving via the express tomorrow night."
His eyes widened. "Really!"
"You will listen to Molly and Arthur and do everything they say. Do you understand?"
"Yes! Yes thank you!"
"Now, where are your books? I will take them with me."
"Here," he handed over a few bags. "But what do I do about clothes in the morning?"
"Did you go by Madam Malkin's like I said?"
"Yes. But I can't wear my robes all day. The Muggles will think I'm mental."
"You could always come back to Hogwarts with me…and stay there," I added quickly.
"Er—on second thought, it's really not that long of a walk through King's Cross."
"Not to mention you are mental," George called out.
"There's that too," Jonathan agreed.
"Right, so I will see you all tomorrow night. Oh, and boy's, whatever furniture you damage make sure you repair it before you leave in the morning. 'Reparo' works for most things, and if that doesn't work, consult with Miss Granger."
"Damage? Really, Professor Porter, we have no idea what you're talking about," Fred said with a grin that George matched.
"Of course not." My eyes flicked down to the singed spots before looking back up at all three boys. "Goodnight."
I turned and left just as Harry was ducking back inside his room.
