Eight years later…
"James, slow down!" Harry called after his rambunctious son. James came running right back to Harry.
"Sorry daddy," the young boy said grinning sheepishly before he ran back up onto the next houses porch. James knocked and politely waited for an answer. The front door opened to reveal a tall, thin black-haired woman. "Hello, what have you got there?" She asked.
"Hello, miss, I'm James Sirius Potter. I'm selling chocolate for my soccer team. Would you like to purchase any?"
She bent down to look the boy in the face, "You know, I would most definitely like some. Could I purchase an entire case?"
James grinned widely, "Of course! My daddy has the box. Be right back." He ran down the front porch stairs and practically pulled Harry up the stairs. "She wants the whole case!" James made exaggerated hand motions towards the stately woman. Harry looked at her questioningly. She nodded.
She bent back down and talked to the boy, "What was your name again?"
"James Sirius Potter, and that's my daddy Harry Potter," he said proudly.
"Are you by chance related to a Sirius Black or a Lily Evans or a James Potter?"
"Uh huh," James shook his head enthusiastically. "Lily and James were my grandparents and Sirius was my uncle. Do you know them?"
The woman nodded, "Yes I did, James. I went to school with them." Harry watched the little discussion with shock. He couldn't quite believe that this woman in the middle of muggle suburbia knew anything about his parents. Harry laid a hand on James's shoulder thinking this woman was crazy. Harry began to pull his son away. "Excuse me? Why are you walking away?"
"I'm sorry, ma'am. I'm sure you mean well, but I've had several people tell me the same thing, and the conversation usually ends up with autographs and photos. And as you can see, I'm with my son, and we just want to do a little fundraising."
"Well I have never understood why people want autographs. Why would someone want an autograph from someone? The only useful thing you could do with it is use it to forge their signature on more important things, granted that their autograph is the same as the signature they use on official documents, and seeing as the average person rarely commits high level theft or identity fraud, I would think that autographs are quite useless." She cocked her head to the side. "As for photographs, my memory is quite impeccable. I see no use for them in this case of this mundane, if slightly atypical, social interaction."
"I'm sorry, I think we better be going," Harry said as he pulled his son away, then his thoughts went quickly back to a name he still knew nothing about. "Actually, did you by chance know an Aurora?"
She clasped her hands in front of her. "That depends on what you would like to know."
Harry thought he was somehow walking into a trap. "Let's start with her last name." If she knew it, then maybe she wasn't so crazy after all.
"Rosier. Although she hated that name more than just about anything. Except maybe the people who also bore that last name." She leaned on her door frame. "I can see in your face that you're having an internal debate over whether or not I am insane. I can assure you that I am relatively sane and really did know your parents and would still really like to procure a case of chocolates."
Harry decided it was worth it to talk with this woman. He was an auror, what was the worst that could happen? "I'll be back," he told her. He drove off down the street, dropping his son off at home and drove back. The woman was sitting on her porch reading a very large volume on the historic uses of runes when Harry walked up. Without even raising her eyes from the paper or saying a word, the door opened. "I'm sure you'd like to come in and hear their story," she said. She stuck out her hand, "I'm Deborah Carr. You may call me Deborah."
He shook it and followed Deborah into the house, and shut the door behind them.
"I must tell you that this house belongs to my brother. I am merely staying here until he returns."
"Oh, how very kind of you."
They took a seat in the living room where a lingering silence assumed. Deborah looked expectantly at Harry. "Erm," he said, "would you be able to tell me about Aurora?"
A smile lit up Deborah's face. "She told me you would come to me one day. Unfortunately, she never gave me a timeline, but I pride myself on being prepared for several likely and many unlikely occurrences." She produced a small chest from somewhere near her feet. "She instructed me to give this to you."
Harry had rarely been so puzzled in his life. He opened the chest slowly, realizing midway through that as a famous individual and magical law enforcement officer, this was a rather foolish thing to do. Thankfully, the chest didn't seem to have any curses inside. Instead, much to his continued surprise, were many small viles of silvery liquid and a letter.
Dearest Harry,
You do not know me, but I know you. I was one of the first few people to hold you after you were born, and I celebrated your first birthday with you only a few months ago. In the time since, many terrible things have happened. Harry, I am so sorry for what you have lost. My deepest condolences do not even begin to cover the sorrow you must feel. I am sending you all I have left to give in hopes that it will bring you closer to the family you have lost. I do not know when this will come into your possession, but I hope they find you well and full of happiness.
Love always,
Auntie Ro
Harry folded the letter and placed it back in the box. "Memories, she gave me memories," he murmured. "But why like this? Why now? Why not earlier when I needed them?" he said louder.
Deborah shrugged, "She told me it had to be like this. Something to do with her divination. But, if I had to postulate a guess, I would say that you are wiser now. You know your parents were human, just like the rest of us, and the pain of your loss has faded with time. You had a destiny which you fulfilled marvelously. Perhaps it would not have been so wondrously fulfilled if you knew what was contained in that chest?" She shrugged again, "I can merely speculate."