Chapter Two
Harry's Doubts
It had only been one or two months since Harry Potter had left Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He didn't think of himself as unusual any more, nor did he hate the summer holidays any more either. No, now he looked forward to them as much as other people his age did. The summer now seemed even more bright and carefree, what with You-Know Who gone…
Harry shook his head. It had taken him so much to defeat Voldemort. He could still hardly believe that Dumbledore had done it. But he had.
Harry was staying now at the Leaky Cauldron, having no other place to stay. Tom, the aging, toothless innkeeper, was still just as glad to take him in as he had been before. He was very generous, and allowed Harry to stay as long as he wanted, free of charge. Harry felt a rush of gratitude toward Tom as a strong, blustery wind rattled the windowpanes. He wouldn't fancy being outside in this weather, especially at night…
He shook his head once more, smiling slightly, and now looked into the mirror above his sink. The face staring back at him took him a little by surprise. He leaned closer, surveying himself. What had changed?
Yes, there was the obvious stuff-the things that still hadn't changed over all the years. His eyes were still that same shade of brilliant green. He still wore round glasses as well. He still had the same untidy, jet-black hair that he had inherited from his father. He was still skinny, but now that he was eighteen, he was no longer short for his age. He had become as taller at last, and now he and his friend Ron were nearly the same height, though Ron still beat him by several inches.
No, nothing really had changed over seven years-except for one thing…
Harry had never seen this new expression on his face. He had seen this face angry, had seen it smiling, laughing, frightened, defiant, sometimes even scratched up and bloody…but never, ever before had he seen such a quiet, desperate sadness etched here in his face. It looked as though he had seen something extremely terrible, something that had the power to remain there, in his mind; and slowly, over the years, it could somehow begin to show in his eyes, his face, his every expression.
He tried several times to change the way he looked: he smiled, frowned, arranged his face into a puzzled yet polite look, but nothing changed. He continued to look in the mirror, twisting his head this way and that, frowning at his reflection, until finally he slammed his palms down onto the basin with a crash.
"It's normal," Harry told himself. "You always look like that when you get older. It's nothing."
He ran both hands through his hair, trying to smooth it down; but as always, he had no success. Giving up, he went over to his bed and threw himself on top of it. For a long moment he just lay there, his eyes closed, thinking about nothing in particular…
Tap. Tap. Tap.
He opened his eyes, staring at the window. Perched on the windowsill, her feathers blowing every which way because of the wind, was Hedwig, his snowy white owl and his own post deliverer. He leaped up and rushed to the window. It took several minutes of struggling before he realized that the window was stuck (or locked). He pulled out his wand.
"Alohomora!"
The window sprang open.
The storm raging outside whipped his hair about and sent sprays of cold, stinging rain in with Hedwig.
"Hedwig!" Harry said gratefully. "Thanks! Hurry up—inside—" He slammed the window down after Hedwig hopped in. He'd have to unstuck the window once more later.
Hedwig gave a dignified sort of hoot as Harry stroked her, smoothing her rumpled feathers back down. It was when he was straightening her tail feathers that he noticed a note-a rather wet and soggy note, but still a note-attached to her leg.
"Gee…" he said, untying the letter, "Thanks a lot, Hedwig."
He placed her back inside her cage, offering her some Owl Treats, and flopped back down on his bed to read the note. He peeled it apart very carefully, cringing whenever a small part of the sopping-wet paper ripped a bit.
Finally, he got the note open (he was surprised to see that the handwriting was still legible) and spread it out on his bed to read it. He grinned as he recognized Hermione Granger's handwriting.
Dear Harry,
Hello! Have you had a good summer so far?
I didn't really know if I should have sent this to you right when Hedwig arrived-the weather looks as though it won't be so great, and I'm a little afraid that Hedwig might be blown off course…however, I figured that I should send it as soon as possible anyway, since I've got something important to tell you.
Ron told me that you were staying at the Leaky Cauldron now. I think that's a very splendid turn of events, because I'll be coming down to Diagon Alley myself in about a week or two. I have to get a bit of money out of Gringotts, and I am currently looking for a good wizarding job-I don't want to become a dentist like my parents!
Will you still be there in a week? Maybe we can meet there in Diagon Alley! I just got a letter from Ron and he said he might be going down to London too, though maybe a bit later than I am coming.
I really hope you'll stay just a little longer. I'd like a chance to catch up with you and Ron on what's happening, wouldn't you agree?
If you're not going to be there, then just send Hedwig back with a note(when the weather gets a bit better, of course) and I'll just continue writing to you instead. Try to stay there a bit longer, all right Harry?
Have fun (and thank Hedwig for me)!
Hermione
Harry's grin became wider as he read and reread the letter. It made him extremely pleased to have a letter written to him, especially a letter from one of his best friends. He thought about sending a note to Ron, but the weather outside had worsened quite a bit, and he didn't think Hedwig's chances of battling the gusts of wind and blankets of rain were good.
He knew the moment his eye passed over her letter that he would be staying at the Leaky Cauldron; now that one (or both) of his friends were coming to visit, he would never want to leave.
He looked outside the window again, his heart feeling considerably lighter than it did a few moments ago, when he was in front of the mirror…
Harry decided that he shouldn't have to wait long before getting a response from Ron. After long deliberation, he finally pulled out an old quill, a half-finished bottle of ink, and a piece of parchment that he decided wasn't too wrinkled to be a hindrance.
"I seriously have to go back down to Flourish and Blotts to get some new writing stuff," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. Finally, he got started on his letter.
Dear Ron,
Hello again. It's me, Harry, remember?
Right now, I'm staying at the Leaky Cauldron here in Diagon Alley. I'm all right here, except for the weather. Don't you reckon it's a bit unusual for it to be raining and for it to be so windy at this point in the summer? Maybe it's just fall and winter creeping up on us.
I just received a letter from Hermione a few minutes ago. It turns out that she's coming to Diagon Alley too, and maybe she'll stay in the Leaky Cauldron as well. She told me that you had sent a letter telling her that you would be coming to Diagon Alley for a bit too. Are you really? If you are, then that's good. It'll be just like old times.
Well, I guess that's all I wanted to say for now. Try and come down to London. If not, I'll just do what Hermione said and write to you some more.
I'll send Hedwig off with this in a little while; I don't think she'll get through in this kind of weather. Say hello to your family for me.
Harry
Yes, Harry thought, that looked about right. He normally checked over his letters to see if he had made too many errors or blotted some wet ink on the paper by mistake, but he didn't feel like it. He glanced out the window. The rain was coming down in sheets now. He had never seen it so dark, even at nighttime. There was a crash, a loud BOOM, and Harry thought he could hear a very odd scraping noise against the walls. Hedwig gave a startled hoot as a flash of lightning lit up Harry's room and a clap of thunder follow.
Harry sighed and folded the letter up. He'd better not chance sending his letter until he could be sure that Hedwig could make it through the sky. His note to Ron would have to wait.
He pulled on his pajamas swiftly and went over to Hedwig's cage. He picked up the now shivering owl and stroked her feathers once more, speaking soothingly to her. "Don't worry," he told Hedwig, running his hand across her back, "I'm not going to send you out there, not in this weather."
Hedwig hooted in a relieved sort of way. Harry smiled as he stroked her, not realizing that little by little his smile gave way to a sad frown. He wondered why he didn't feel happier. Hermione and Ron were both coming over (at least he hoped so) for the rest of the summer holidays. They were his best friends! However…why wasn't he excited like he normally would have been?
Maybe it was all those things that had happened to him in the years past. He remembered how disbelieving he had been after he had watched Voldemort's defeat. He remembered how detached he had felt in the months and years later, while Dumbledore was doing everything he could to prevent Voldemort's second rise to power. He remembered, only vaguely, how he had felt when he had heard the news of Voldemort's defeat. Never again would Voldemort strike fear into the hearts of wizards everywhere. Never again would he tear people apart by his evil actions…
Harry shook his head. It was still painful to think about all that he had been through all those years.
He turned his attention to Hedwig again. "So what d'you reckon?" he murmured, stroking her obligingly. Hedwig hooted again, in a softer, deeper, reassuring kind of way. Harry smiled. "Really? But you wouldn't really care, would you? After all, you're just happy that You-Know-Who's gone, aren't you? Like all the other wizards… but sometimes…sometimes I can't help feeling as though he's still here, you know? He'll never really die, in my opinion…what about you? What do you think?" Hedwig, feeling that some other, more meaningful response was needed, butted his hand roughly with her head and clicked her beak. Harry's smile became even wider.
"I guess we'll never really know, will we, Hedwig?" he said quietly as he carried her back to her cage. "I'll just have to do what Hagrid said…what's going to happen will happen, and we'll just have to meet it when it does…"
He gave her a last pat on her beautiful, snowy head, and closed the cage door. He threw his cloak over her cage to calm her down in case any more lightning pierced the windows, and settled down in his own bed. He was beginning to shiver himself because of the wind rattling the windows. As he curled up under the covers, he couldn't help feeling a little bit scared of the weather and darkness outside. He hadn't seen such a rainstorm in quite a while.
He sighed, burying his head in his pillow. It was foolish to even think of things as small and trivial as a rainstorm. He closed his eyes and let the sound of the rain pattering outside lull him to sleep.
He couldn't help thinking right before he fell asleep that it was extremely hard, even now, to even get worried about the prospect of Voldemort's legacy.
Not when there were friends to be welcomed, at least…
Harry's Doubts
It had only been one or two months since Harry Potter had left Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He didn't think of himself as unusual any more, nor did he hate the summer holidays any more either. No, now he looked forward to them as much as other people his age did. The summer now seemed even more bright and carefree, what with You-Know Who gone…
Harry shook his head. It had taken him so much to defeat Voldemort. He could still hardly believe that Dumbledore had done it. But he had.
Harry was staying now at the Leaky Cauldron, having no other place to stay. Tom, the aging, toothless innkeeper, was still just as glad to take him in as he had been before. He was very generous, and allowed Harry to stay as long as he wanted, free of charge. Harry felt a rush of gratitude toward Tom as a strong, blustery wind rattled the windowpanes. He wouldn't fancy being outside in this weather, especially at night…
He shook his head once more, smiling slightly, and now looked into the mirror above his sink. The face staring back at him took him a little by surprise. He leaned closer, surveying himself. What had changed?
Yes, there was the obvious stuff-the things that still hadn't changed over all the years. His eyes were still that same shade of brilliant green. He still wore round glasses as well. He still had the same untidy, jet-black hair that he had inherited from his father. He was still skinny, but now that he was eighteen, he was no longer short for his age. He had become as taller at last, and now he and his friend Ron were nearly the same height, though Ron still beat him by several inches.
No, nothing really had changed over seven years-except for one thing…
Harry had never seen this new expression on his face. He had seen this face angry, had seen it smiling, laughing, frightened, defiant, sometimes even scratched up and bloody…but never, ever before had he seen such a quiet, desperate sadness etched here in his face. It looked as though he had seen something extremely terrible, something that had the power to remain there, in his mind; and slowly, over the years, it could somehow begin to show in his eyes, his face, his every expression.
He tried several times to change the way he looked: he smiled, frowned, arranged his face into a puzzled yet polite look, but nothing changed. He continued to look in the mirror, twisting his head this way and that, frowning at his reflection, until finally he slammed his palms down onto the basin with a crash.
"It's normal," Harry told himself. "You always look like that when you get older. It's nothing."
He ran both hands through his hair, trying to smooth it down; but as always, he had no success. Giving up, he went over to his bed and threw himself on top of it. For a long moment he just lay there, his eyes closed, thinking about nothing in particular…
Tap. Tap. Tap.
He opened his eyes, staring at the window. Perched on the windowsill, her feathers blowing every which way because of the wind, was Hedwig, his snowy white owl and his own post deliverer. He leaped up and rushed to the window. It took several minutes of struggling before he realized that the window was stuck (or locked). He pulled out his wand.
"Alohomora!"
The window sprang open.
The storm raging outside whipped his hair about and sent sprays of cold, stinging rain in with Hedwig.
"Hedwig!" Harry said gratefully. "Thanks! Hurry up—inside—" He slammed the window down after Hedwig hopped in. He'd have to unstuck the window once more later.
Hedwig gave a dignified sort of hoot as Harry stroked her, smoothing her rumpled feathers back down. It was when he was straightening her tail feathers that he noticed a note-a rather wet and soggy note, but still a note-attached to her leg.
"Gee…" he said, untying the letter, "Thanks a lot, Hedwig."
He placed her back inside her cage, offering her some Owl Treats, and flopped back down on his bed to read the note. He peeled it apart very carefully, cringing whenever a small part of the sopping-wet paper ripped a bit.
Finally, he got the note open (he was surprised to see that the handwriting was still legible) and spread it out on his bed to read it. He grinned as he recognized Hermione Granger's handwriting.
Dear Harry,
Hello! Have you had a good summer so far?
I didn't really know if I should have sent this to you right when Hedwig arrived-the weather looks as though it won't be so great, and I'm a little afraid that Hedwig might be blown off course…however, I figured that I should send it as soon as possible anyway, since I've got something important to tell you.
Ron told me that you were staying at the Leaky Cauldron now. I think that's a very splendid turn of events, because I'll be coming down to Diagon Alley myself in about a week or two. I have to get a bit of money out of Gringotts, and I am currently looking for a good wizarding job-I don't want to become a dentist like my parents!
Will you still be there in a week? Maybe we can meet there in Diagon Alley! I just got a letter from Ron and he said he might be going down to London too, though maybe a bit later than I am coming.
I really hope you'll stay just a little longer. I'd like a chance to catch up with you and Ron on what's happening, wouldn't you agree?
If you're not going to be there, then just send Hedwig back with a note(when the weather gets a bit better, of course) and I'll just continue writing to you instead. Try to stay there a bit longer, all right Harry?
Have fun (and thank Hedwig for me)!
Hermione
Harry's grin became wider as he read and reread the letter. It made him extremely pleased to have a letter written to him, especially a letter from one of his best friends. He thought about sending a note to Ron, but the weather outside had worsened quite a bit, and he didn't think Hedwig's chances of battling the gusts of wind and blankets of rain were good.
He knew the moment his eye passed over her letter that he would be staying at the Leaky Cauldron; now that one (or both) of his friends were coming to visit, he would never want to leave.
He looked outside the window again, his heart feeling considerably lighter than it did a few moments ago, when he was in front of the mirror…
Harry decided that he shouldn't have to wait long before getting a response from Ron. After long deliberation, he finally pulled out an old quill, a half-finished bottle of ink, and a piece of parchment that he decided wasn't too wrinkled to be a hindrance.
"I seriously have to go back down to Flourish and Blotts to get some new writing stuff," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. Finally, he got started on his letter.
Dear Ron,
Hello again. It's me, Harry, remember?
Right now, I'm staying at the Leaky Cauldron here in Diagon Alley. I'm all right here, except for the weather. Don't you reckon it's a bit unusual for it to be raining and for it to be so windy at this point in the summer? Maybe it's just fall and winter creeping up on us.
I just received a letter from Hermione a few minutes ago. It turns out that she's coming to Diagon Alley too, and maybe she'll stay in the Leaky Cauldron as well. She told me that you had sent a letter telling her that you would be coming to Diagon Alley for a bit too. Are you really? If you are, then that's good. It'll be just like old times.
Well, I guess that's all I wanted to say for now. Try and come down to London. If not, I'll just do what Hermione said and write to you some more.
I'll send Hedwig off with this in a little while; I don't think she'll get through in this kind of weather. Say hello to your family for me.
Harry
Yes, Harry thought, that looked about right. He normally checked over his letters to see if he had made too many errors or blotted some wet ink on the paper by mistake, but he didn't feel like it. He glanced out the window. The rain was coming down in sheets now. He had never seen it so dark, even at nighttime. There was a crash, a loud BOOM, and Harry thought he could hear a very odd scraping noise against the walls. Hedwig gave a startled hoot as a flash of lightning lit up Harry's room and a clap of thunder follow.
Harry sighed and folded the letter up. He'd better not chance sending his letter until he could be sure that Hedwig could make it through the sky. His note to Ron would have to wait.
He pulled on his pajamas swiftly and went over to Hedwig's cage. He picked up the now shivering owl and stroked her feathers once more, speaking soothingly to her. "Don't worry," he told Hedwig, running his hand across her back, "I'm not going to send you out there, not in this weather."
Hedwig hooted in a relieved sort of way. Harry smiled as he stroked her, not realizing that little by little his smile gave way to a sad frown. He wondered why he didn't feel happier. Hermione and Ron were both coming over (at least he hoped so) for the rest of the summer holidays. They were his best friends! However…why wasn't he excited like he normally would have been?
Maybe it was all those things that had happened to him in the years past. He remembered how disbelieving he had been after he had watched Voldemort's defeat. He remembered how detached he had felt in the months and years later, while Dumbledore was doing everything he could to prevent Voldemort's second rise to power. He remembered, only vaguely, how he had felt when he had heard the news of Voldemort's defeat. Never again would Voldemort strike fear into the hearts of wizards everywhere. Never again would he tear people apart by his evil actions…
Harry shook his head. It was still painful to think about all that he had been through all those years.
He turned his attention to Hedwig again. "So what d'you reckon?" he murmured, stroking her obligingly. Hedwig hooted again, in a softer, deeper, reassuring kind of way. Harry smiled. "Really? But you wouldn't really care, would you? After all, you're just happy that You-Know-Who's gone, aren't you? Like all the other wizards… but sometimes…sometimes I can't help feeling as though he's still here, you know? He'll never really die, in my opinion…what about you? What do you think?" Hedwig, feeling that some other, more meaningful response was needed, butted his hand roughly with her head and clicked her beak. Harry's smile became even wider.
"I guess we'll never really know, will we, Hedwig?" he said quietly as he carried her back to her cage. "I'll just have to do what Hagrid said…what's going to happen will happen, and we'll just have to meet it when it does…"
He gave her a last pat on her beautiful, snowy head, and closed the cage door. He threw his cloak over her cage to calm her down in case any more lightning pierced the windows, and settled down in his own bed. He was beginning to shiver himself because of the wind rattling the windows. As he curled up under the covers, he couldn't help feeling a little bit scared of the weather and darkness outside. He hadn't seen such a rainstorm in quite a while.
He sighed, burying his head in his pillow. It was foolish to even think of things as small and trivial as a rainstorm. He closed his eyes and let the sound of the rain pattering outside lull him to sleep.
He couldn't help thinking right before he fell asleep that it was extremely hard, even now, to even get worried about the prospect of Voldemort's legacy.
Not when there were friends to be welcomed, at least…
