Book I
Chapter 7
The Greater Good
When Harry woke up on Christmas morning, his first instinct was to run to his parents' room and wake them so he could open his presents. He was prevented from doing this because the first thing he noticed when he woke up was that there was a piece of parchment stuck to his face. He pulled the parchment from his face and held it before his eyes. The sun had barley risen and his room was still dark, so he grabbed his wand off his nightstand and cast Lumos. He recognized the handwriting on the parchment as his father's.
Happy Christmas, Harry, the note read, Come down to the shed to get your first present. Don't wake your mother.
Harry furrowed his brow in confusion. His father was well known for his pranks, but surely he wouldn't prank his son on Christmas morning. Or would he? Regrettably, the only way for Harry to find out was to follow the note's instructions and meet his father in the shed. He climbed out of bed, stuffed the note in his pocket and grabbed his glasses off the nightstand. He put on his cloak and snuck out of his room. His mother's room was further down the hall, but she was a light sleeper so he took extra precaution in sneaking down the stairs.
Once at the bottom of the stairs, he did his best to ignore the Christmas tree in the living room. The bounty of gifts underneath it was tempting, but he knew he couldn't open them until his parents were awake, and he had to figure out what his father wanted first. He walked through the kitchen and slunk out the back door. He pulled his cloak tight around his body to fight off the morning chill. The shed was at the far end of the backyard and the door was closed. He had seen his father spending a lot of time over the winter holiday in the shed. When Harry asked him what he was doing in there he would only say that he was working on a secret project. Even his mother didn't know what it was. Now, Harry was wondering if the project his father had been spending so much time on was his Christmas gift.
He approached the shed and cautiously opened the door. He still hadn't ruled out the possibility that his father was playing a Christmas prank on him. When he entered the shed he found that it was empty. The place was a complete mess. His father's work bench was covered with a white sheet. The floor was littered with Quidditch magazines. The shelves on the walls were stacked with out of place tools and what seemed to be random pieces of wood. The portions of the walls that weren't covered with shelves were plastered with pictures and diagrams of broomsticks.
Harry walked to his father's workbench and grabbed the white sheet covering it.
"Don't touch anything," a badly disguised voice said from behind him.
Harry whipped around and scanned the empty shed. "Dad?" he asked the empty air.
The door to the shed swung closed, apparently of its own accord. Harry pulled his wand out of the waistband of his pajamas and brandished it in the air. He was certain now that his father was playing a joke on him. He wasn't sure how holding his wand out was going to help, but he felt safer with it in his hands.
"Now, what are you going to do with that?" his dad asked. The air shimmered where the voice came from and his dad's head appeared floating in the air. "Happy Christmas, Harry," he said with a grin.
Harry sighed in relief and dropped his wand to his side. At least it seemed like his father wasn't going to be playing a joke on him this morning. "Happy Christmas, dad," he said with a grin of his own.
"I suppose you're wondering why I lead you down here?" his father asked.
"Your note said you were going to give me my first present," Harry said.
His father nodded. "And do you have any idea what that might be?"
Harry shook his head.
"It's something very important to me." The air shimmered again as his father completely removed his Invisibility Cloak. "It was passed down to me from my father, who received it from his father, who received it from his father and so on and so forth as far back as anyone can remember. Giving it up is going to be hard, but I know you'll have more fun with it than I will."
His father paused, presumably for dramatic effect, and Harry couldn't keep his excitement contained, "What is it?"
His father held out his shimmering Invisibility Cloak and said, "It's my Invisibility Cloak!"
Harry's jaw dropped. He had been expecting something great, but he hadn't been expecting that. He couldn't believe it, he kept thinking it had to be a joke. "You're joking," he said after gaping at his father for nearly a minute.
"Nope," his father said. He tossed the cloak to Harry, who just barely managed to catch it. "It's all yours now."
"But, but," Harry said, unable to wrap his mind around such a magnificent gift.
"You'll have more use for it at Hogwarts than I'll have for it here at home," his father said, "Plus, there's more than one way too make yourself invisible."
"But what about mum?" Harry asked.
"Well, she didn't want me to give you the cloak until you were at least seventeen, but what she doesn't know won't hurt her, right?"
"Right!" Harry said with an enthusiastic nod.
"That's my boy," his father said, reaching out and ruffling his hair. "Now, let's get back in the house before your mother wakes up and notices we're missing."
They left the shed together and snuck back into the house. All the while, Harry clutched to his new Invisibility Cloak as if he was afraid someone would steal it from him. He dashed to his room and stashed the Invisibility Cloak in the bottom of his trunk while his father roused his mother from bed. They gathered in the living room and spent the rest of the morning opening presents, though nothing else Harry received that morning measured up to the Invisibility Cloak.
His mother was beautiful. Harry had never been more aware of this fact than as he watched his mother pace back and forth in the living room. She was wearing dark emerald dress robes that matched her eyes. Her ruby hair was pulled into an elegant bun and she was wearing just enough make-up to highlight her already pretty face. And yet, despite how beautiful she looked, there was a worried frown on her face that ruined the whole image.
"You're going to give yourself wrinkles, dear," James said as he trotted down the stairs. He was dressed in simple black dress robes. His hair was an untamed mess. He grinned at his wife, but she didn't share in his good spirits.
"You could at least try to do something with your hair," she snapped. She stopped pacing in favor of facing her husband with her arms crossed.
James ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up further. "How's it look now?"
Lily sighed and resumed pacing. "Why do I even bother anymore?" she said, speaking to herself.
James stopped grinning. "Lily, what's the matter?" he asked. "I know you're not really mad about my hair. You gave up trying to fix that ages ago."
"You know what the problem is," she said. She stopped pacing again and leveled a glare at her husband. Harry began to feel uneasy, he didn't like seeing his mother angry.
"It's just a party, Lily," his father said, his voice even in the face of his wife's fury.
"It's not just a party, James," his mother said, "It's Dumbledore's party."
"It's still just a party," his father said, "What's the worst that could happen?"
Lily's only response was to continue glaring. To his credit, James didn't back down. They locked into a staring match that lasted for over a minute and probably would have lasted longer if Harry hadn't interrupted it by clearing his throat. His parents turned to him with surprise written across their faces. It seemed as if they had forgotten about him in the heat of their argument.
"We're going to be late," he said.
His parents shared a look before turning back to him.
"Sorry about that, son," his father said, grinning again. "Are you ready to go?"
Harry nodded. He had been waiting for Dumbledore's Christmas party all day. After opening presents it was the only thing he could think about. He hadn't talked to Dumbledore since the Welcoming Feast and he was eager to talk to him again.
"Lily? You ready to go?"
She nodded as well. She had a strange look in her eyes that Harry didn't quite understand. He understood that she didn't want to go to Dumbledore's party, but he didn't understand why. Maybe she just thought she wouldn't have fun?
James clapped his hands together, "Then what are we waiting for? Let's go!"
Harry smiled and offered his mother his hand, "Come on, mum," he said, "I'm sure the party will be fun."
His mother smiled back and took his hand. Together they followed his father as he lead the way out the front door and into the cold December night. They followed the path through their lawn to the main road. Dumbledore was hosting his party in his cottage, which was just a quick walk down the road from the Potter's cottage. As they walked in silence, Harry noticed his mother's palm sweating. Was she nervous? He figured that could be why she didn't want go to Dumbledore's party. He couldn't blame her for being nervous around Dumbledore. He remembered when he had first met the man he had been nervous as well. Of course, he had only been five at the time and had quickly learned that there was nothing to be nervous about around Dumbledore.
These thoughts occupied Harry for the entirety of the walk to Dumbledore's cottage. The cottage looked ordinary from outside. Not unlike any of the other cottages in the village. Harry had been in Dumbledore's home before, though it had been years since the last time. He remembered the inside being just as ordinary as the outside. Harry and his mother followed his father up the path to the front door. His father hesitated before knocking.
"Remember," he said, "It's just a party, so have fun."
Harry knew he was talking to his mother and she had no verbal response. He did notice that her grip on his hand tightened. His father raised his fist and knocked on the door twice. It was as he was about to knock a third time that the door flew open revealing Dumbledore himself standing on the other side. He was dressed in expensive-looking purple dress robes.
"Ah, the family Potter," Dumbledore said, welcoming Harry's family into his home with a sweeping gesture. "So nice of you to accept my invitation."
"It's an honor to be invited, sir," James said with a slight bow. Harry and his mother bowed as well, though Harry noticed a rigidness to his mother's bow.
"No need for such formality, friends," Dumbledore said with a genial smile. "It is a party after all!"
Harry and his father laughed. His mother remained quiet.
"Come now," Dumbledore said, leading them further into the entrance hall, "Let me give you the grand tour. This is the entrance hall of course, nothing special to see here."
Harry silently disagreed. On the outside, Dumbledore's cottage was ordinary, but the inside was anything but. The entrance hall alone seemed bigger than his family's entire house. The walls were adorned with golden candelabras and suits of armor so shiny that he could see his reflection in them. A lush Persian rug, red with gold trim, covered the oaken floors. Harry didn't remember Dumbledore's house looking so nice the last time he'd been there.
"Over here we have the ballroom," Dumbledore said, leading them to a set of double doors at the end of the entrance hall. Harry, so caught up in gaping at the exquisite entrance hall, barley had time to register the fact that Dumbledore hadn't had a ball room last time he'd been in his house. "This is where the party will be taking place."
Dumbledore opened the double doors and revealed a sight that took Harry's breath away. The ballroom was large, larger than should have been possible. He knew there was magic to fit large spaces into small spaces, but this was just ridiculous. The ceiling of the ballroom, which was made of glass, was higher than the ceiling of Hogwart's Great Hall. Hanging from the ridiculously high ceiling was an equally ridiculous sized glass chandelier. The floor was made of marble that had been polished to such a sheen that Harry could see his reflection in it. The walls were covered with decorative marble pillars and arches.
Harry noticed all of his before even noticing the guests in the ballroom. There were at least a hundred well-dressed witches and wizards milling about the room. There was a string quartet playing in a corner of the room and a section of the floor was reserved for dancing. There were small, round tables on one side of the room for guests to eat at. A group of at least two dozen muggle servants darted about the room carrying trays of food and drinks.
Harry heard his mother make a strange sound in her throat. Before he could ask her if something was bothering her, his father spoke.
"Quite the place you've got here," he said with a wry smile though his eyes held a look of unease.
"Indeed," Dumbledore said. "Now, come along. I've got to introduce you to the rest of the guests."
"That won't be necessary, sir," Lily said, "I'm sure you've got more important matters to attend to."
"Nonsense," Dumbledore said with a wave of his hand, "It is my most important duty as both a good host and a good neighbor. Now, come along."
Dumbledore lead them around the ballroom and introduced them to dozens of people. Many of them were rich business men or important politicians. The type of people Harry normally would have been nervous meeting, but Dumbledore barley gave them time to say hello before he dragged them off to the next person he wanted them to meet. His father took it all in stride, but he could see his mother getting more aggravated with each new person they were introduced to.
Dumbledore's whirlwind tour came to a stop as he brought them before a woman dressed from head to toe in pink. Pink shoes, pink dress robes, pink gloves and a pink hat. The only non-pink things she wore were the large black bow in her hair and the multitude of gaudy silver rings that adorned her stubby fingers. The woman had a distinct look that made Harry think she had to be part toad, and she was flanked by two imposing wizards in black robes.
"Here is a person truly worth meeting," Dumbledore said, leaving Harry to wonder why he had introduced them to all of those people if they weren't worth meeting.
"Lord Dumbledore," the pink woman said in a sugary tone. She and her two bodyguards bowed. "We had been wondering where you'd gotten off to."
"Just attending to a few guests, Dolores," Dumbledore said. "Dolores, these are my neighbor's: the Potters. James, Lily, Harry, this is Dolores Umbridge, Minister of Great Britain. "
The woman laughed a high pitched laugh that caused Harry to cringe, "Oh, Dumbledore, I'm sure they already know who I am," she said.
Harry did not know who she was and after meeting her he wished it could have stayed that way. He knew that there was a British Minister, of course, but he'd never paid attention to who it was.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," James said, extending his hand.
"Of course it is," Umbridge said, ignoring his hand. She turned to Dumbledore and said, "Dumbledore, sir, I have been needing to talk to you about some very important matters."
"Of course, dear," Dumbledore said, "But first I must find Gellert. I'm sure he'd be delighted to meet the Potter family."
Harry's eyes went wide. They were going to meet the Emperor?
"I believe I saw him wander off not too long ago," Umbridge said, barley hiding her annoyance at being put off by Dumbledore. "I thought he was looking for you."
"Ah, I imagine he's in one of his moods," Dumbledore said. "If you'll excuse me Dolores, Potter family, I must find him before he curses someone."
Harry laughed, but Dumbledore didn't seem to be joking for once. The old wizard walked off and Harry lost sight of him in the crowd. Umbridge watched him walk off with a frown on her toad-like face. She turned to the Potters and cast an appraising gaze at them. After a moment of scrutiny she scoffed and left with her body guards.
"Charming woman," James said, he turned to the rest of his family. "Come on, let's go find a place to sit down."
Harry, still holding his mother's hand, followed his father as he navigated through the crowd of party guests. They found an empty table at the far side of the ballroom and sat down. As soon as they had sat a muggle servant approached their table. The muggle was a bald, middle-aged man who was sickly thin.
"What can I get for you?" he asked with a yellowed smile.
"Nothing for us, thanks," Lily said instantly.
The servant nodded and shuffled off to the next table.
"Mum," Harry whined, "I wanted some pumpkin juice."
"We have pumpkin juice at home," his mother said.
"We're not at home."
"We will be soon," his mother said. She turned to her husband.
"We just got here, Lily," he said.
"I refuse to stay here any longer," Lily said. "We made our appearance. We made nice with these people. We've got no reason to stick around."
"I don't want to leave yet," Harry said, but his mother ignored him.
"If we leave now it'll look suspicious," James said, dropping his voice to a whisper.
Lily glared at her husband. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it before any words came out. She cast a furtive glance in Harry's direction. Harry frowned, not entirely sure what was going on between his parents. His mother grabbed his father's hand and they both stood up from the table.
"Your father and I are going to dance," his mother said, still glaring at his father. "Stay here until we get back."
Harry received an apologetic look from his father as his mother marched him towards the dance floor. Alone, Harry could only wonder what was going on between his parents. His mother didn't want to be at Dumbledore's party, but he still couldn't figure out why. One thing that was apparent was that his mother was getting angrier the more time she spent at the party. As much as he wanted to see Dumbledore, Harry was starting to think it was best if they did leave the party if only so his mother would stop being so angry.
"Is there a problem, young sir?"
Harry was shaken from his thoughts as another muggle servant addressed him. This one was female and much younger than the one from before. She was probably only a few years older than Harry. Her dark hair was a tangled mess and her skin held an unhealthy pale color.
"No, there's no problem," Harry said. " But do you think you could bring me some pumpkin juice?"
"Of course, young sir," the servant said with a quick bow. She shuffled off and returned a minute later with a goblet of pumpkin juice. Harry accepted the drink with a grateful smile.
"Thank you."
The servant seemed shocked for a moment before replying, "The pleasure was mine, sir. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
Harry shook his head and took a sip of his pumpkin juice. The servant walked off to deal with other patrons. Harry gazed out at the dance floor and saw his parents were still dancing. There was an angry look on his mother's face and his father was frowning. Their lips were moving quickly. It was obvious to Harry that they were arguing though he couldn't tell about what. That at least explained why his mother had been so eager to dance. She didn't like him to hear them arguing.
"Ah, there you are, Harry."
Harry turned and saw Dumbledore approaching him. He greeted the old wizard with a smile.
"Where are your parents?" Dumbledore asked as he pulled up a chair and sat next to Harry.
"They're dancing," Harry said. "I think my mum's mad about something."
Dumbledore glanced at the dance floor and nodded, "I suspected she would be."
"What do you mean, sir?"
"Your mother is and always has been a very angry woman," Dumbledore said. "And I fear her anger is at least partially caused by myself."
"Why do you say that?" Harry couldn't imagine why his mother would be angry with Dumbledore. As far as he knew she barley knew him. At least she didn't know him as well as he did.
"Your mother is a muggleborn," Dumbledore said. He stroked his beard thoughtfully for a moment before continuing, "As such, she was obviously raised as a muggle. I'm sure I don't need to explain to you that muggles do not live very fulfilling lives."
Harry nodded. "But she's a witch now, she doesn't have to live like a muggle anymore."
"Indeed, but that doesn't erase what she went through as a child," Dumbledore said. "I'm afraid she blames me, and Gellert of course, for her rough up bringing. She will probably never forgive us."
Harry frowned and crossed his arms. His own mother didn't like Dumbledore? He couldn't believe it. If his friends found out they'd think his family was weird.
"Do not be angry with your mother," Dumbledore said. "The greater good requires sacrifice above all else. Your mother does not understand that."
"I understand it, sir," Harry said with a smile. Dumbledore had explained the greater good to him a long time ago when they had first met. Muggles and wizards could not live together as equals, so muggles had to live beneath wizards. This is what Harry believed because it was what Dumbledore had taught him.
"Of course you understand," Dumbledore said with a smile though his eyes didn't twinkle as usual. "So, do you think your mother would be mad if I stole you for a moment?"
Harry looked out to the dance floor where his parents were still dancing and arguing. "Probably," he said.
"Then I'll have to do my best to have you back before she notices," Dumbledore said, standing up from the table, "Unless, you'd prefer to sit here?"
Harry looked over to the dance floor, his parents were still arguing. Figuring they wouldn't notice he was gone, he stood up and followed Dumbledore. Dumbledore led him through a door behind the dining area and into the kitchen. The kitchen was large, at least larger than the kitchen in Harry's home, but almost every inch of available space was taken up by a stove or a counter. Muggle servants darted about preparing food, but as soon as Dumbledore entered the room they stopped what they were doing and bowed deeply.
"As you were," Dumbledore said, leading Harry through the kitchen. The muggle servants went back to their business, though they all made an effort to stay out of Dumbledore's way.
"Where are we going, sir?" Harry asked.
"There was one other person I wanted you to meet, remember?"
Harry's eyes widened. "Emperor Grindelwald?"
"Yes, unless you wouldn't like to meet him."
Harry hesitated before speaking. "He's not going to curse me, is he?"
Dumbledore smiled down at Harry. "Not while I'm around."
They reached the back of the kitchen and Dumbledore led Harry through another door. They stepped through the door and into the cold night air of the backyard. The backyard was entirely featureless save for a stone bench at its far end. Sitting on the bench was an old wizard with a wild mane of gray hair and a long beard to match (though not as long as Dumbledore's). His facial features were well-defined; high cheekbones and a sharp nose though his most noticeable trait by far were his eyes. They were golden and glowed in the darkness like those of a cat. As those eyes fell upon Harry, he felt as if he were being measured or judged. Despite Dumbledore's words of assurance earlier, Harry felt scared.
Dumbledore seemed to sense this, as he reached out and grabbed Harry by the shoulder. He led Harry closer to the old wizard, but the closer Harry got the more afraid he became. The air surrounding the old wizard was thick, making it hard for him to draw breath. Every step he took towards the wizard felt as if he were walking through molasses. By the time he came to a stop a foot away from the wizard every instinct in his body was screaming at him to run away, but he couldn't. He was paralyzed by fear.
"Harry," Dumbledore said, "I'd like you to meet Gellert Grindelwald, Emperor of Magic."
Harry couldn't speak. He knew he had to say something, but fear had hold of his tongue. He stared into the Emperor's golden eyes and couldn't look away. The Emperor seemed to radiate an aura of pure terror that had wrapped itself around Harry and refused to let him go.
"It is customary," Grindelwald said, his voice held a heavy German accent, "To bow before your Emperor."
Harry's legs shook and fell out from underneath him. He landed on one knee and bowed his head. He worked his mouth up and down, trying to form an apology to save himself from the Emperor's ire, but he couldn't find the words.
"Albus, why do you bring this whelp before me?" Grindelwald asked.
"This is Harry Potter," Dumbledore said, "My neighbor and friend. I would appreciate it if you would stop intimidating him."
Grindelwald grunted and Harry felt the air around him change. He stopped shaking, he let out a deep breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. His mind was no longer muddled up with fear and he could think clearly. Had he been under some kind of spell? He raised his head and looked into the eyes of the Emperor, which were still glowing slightly.
"Sorry, sir," Harry stuttered, his voice hoarse for some reason.
The Emperor grunted again. He stood up and swept past Harry. Harry remained on the ground in front of the bench until he heard the sound of the back door opening and closing, then he raised himself off the ground and sat on the bench. He let out another deep breath and looked up at Dumbledore.
"Is he always like that?" he asked, his voice shaking.
"Regrettably," Dumbledore said. He stared at the door that Grindelwald had went through with a thoughtful expression.
Harry ran a hand through his hair. What had been the point of all that? Why had the Emperor saw fit to scare him like that? Dumbledore had to have known Grindelwald would treat him like that, so why had he brought him out here? Harry thought about asking Dumbledore all of these questions, but he didn't want to sound ungrateful. Terrifying experience that it was, Dumbledore had just introduced him to the most powerful man in the world. Not many eleven year olds had that honor. He knew his friends would be impressed, at least. Still, he did have one question he had to ask, for clarifications sake.
"Was it a spell?"
"Something like that," Dumbledore said. "If you wish to avoid it in the future, I'd suggest against looking him the eyes."
"Would have been nice if you had told me that before," Harry said, trying not to sound angry.
"It only affects those who are already afraid of him," Dumbledore said, looking down at Harry. The look in Dumbledore's eyes gave Harry the impression that he was being chastised. He looked away, feeling ashamed even though he knew he shouldn't. Of course he was afraid of the most powerful wizard in the world. Who wouldn't be? But then he already had his answer. Dumbledore wasn't afraid of Grindelwald. The spell hadn't worked on him.
"Come now," Dumbledore said, "We should return to the party if you don't wish for your mother to notice you're gone."
Harry stood up and followed Dumbledore back into the house. As they walked through the kitchen, Harry noticed many of the muggles looking unnaturally pale. A few of the younger ones had tears in their eyes. It seemed that Emperor Grindelwald had passed through and given them a healthy dosage of his 'charm'. When they got back to Harry's table, he was relieved to note that his parents weren't there. Maybe they hadn't noticed he was gone? He looked out to the dance floor, but he didn't see them there either.
"It has been an interesting night," Dumbledore said, "But I'm afraid the rest of my party guests will become jealous if I ignore them for too much longer."
"I understand, sir," Harry said, "Thank you for-er-introducing me to the Emperor. It was-" he paused, "-an experience."
"That it was," Dumbledore said with a smile, "Enjoy the rest of the party, Harry."
"I will, sir," Harry said, waving to Dumbledore as he walked away and disappeared into a crowd of party guests.
Harry sat down at his table and grabbed his goblet of pumpkin juice. It was warm now, but that didn't stop him from taking a drink from it. His throat still felt a little hoarse from his meeting with the Emperor.
"Harry?"
Harry winced. It was his mother that had called his name and she didn't sound happy. He turned around in his chair and faced her with a forced smile. "Hey, mum," he said with forced cheer.
"Where have you been?" his mother asked, her arms crossed, "Your father and I have been looking all over for you!"
"I was-er-I was in the bathroom," Harry said. His mother's gaze was skeptical, and he found himself wishing he was a better liar.
Whether or not his mother bought his story didn't matter as she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out of his chair. "We're leaving," she said and she pulled him away from the dining area and towards the doors to the entrance hall.
"What about dad?" Harry asked. The idea of protesting had come to his mind initially, but he knew it was pointless. His mother was determined to leave the party. It didn't bother Harry too much. He had come to the party to talk with Dumbledore again and he had done that, though he hadn't accomplished much.
"Your father can find his own way home," his mother said, keeping her voice down as they passed a group of party guests.
They reached the double doors that lead to the entrance hall and his mother threw them open. That was when the screaming started. A high-pitched, blood curdling scream. The scream managed to fill the entire ball room, quieting all the guests. It sent a shiver down Harry's spine. He whipped around and tried to find the source of the screaming. It sounded like it was coming from the center of the ballroom, but there were too many guests around. He couldn't see anything. Some of the guests were running away from the screaming, but some of them were walking towards it almost casual in their gait.
Harry's mother scanned the party, then turned back to the entrance hall, then looked down at her son. "Wait here, Harry," she said, pulling her wand out of a fold in her robes.
"But mum-"
"Please, Harry," his mother said, "Wait here. I'll be right back."
Harry nodded and his mother jogged back into the ballroom, heading towards the source of the screaming. Harry stood and waited just like his mother had told him, trying to ignore the scream and finding it impossible. He felt foolish just standing around. He was a Gryffindor; bravery and courage were his traits. He should have went with his mother to investigate the scream. Someone could be hurt or worse and he was just standing around. His mother had told him to wait, but he was a Potter and they didn't often listen to authority figures. That was what made Harry's decision for him. He pulled out his wand and followed his mother's path towards the center of the ballroom.
He pushed pass other party guests as he made his way towards the screaming. The closer he got, the louder the screaming became and his resolve began to wager. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea? He didn't know what he was doing, after all. Those worries were quickly squashed down by his Gryffindor spirit as he continued working his way closer to the source of the scream. When he reached the epicenter of the scream, he found his mother and stood next to her. Then he saw who was screaming.
It was a muggle girl. Harry vaguely recognized her as the one who had brought him pumpkin juice. She writhed on the floor, her face contorted into an expression of absolute agony. Standing above her was Emperor Grindelwald. The Emperor had his wand pointed at the girl and there was a look of malice in his golden eyes.
Harry's hand went limp and his wand clattered to the floor. The Emperor turned to him with those golden eyes, all the while still torturing the muggle girl, and Harry found himself trapped in the same terror spell from before. His breath quickened, his heart raced, and the only thing he could think was that he was next. The Emperor was going to turn his wand on him and torture him next.
Then a hand fell over Harry's eyes, delicate and warm. He felt himself being pulled away from the screaming girl. The people in the crowd of party guests whispered loudly; some even shouted at him. Harry couldn't understand what they were saying. His mind was still caught up in what he'd seen. The look of agony on that girl's face had been horrifying; almost as bad as looking into Grindelwald's eyes. He continued to to let himself be dragged until he felt the cool kiss of the night air and the hand dropped from his eyes. Looking around, he saw that he was at the front door of Dumbledore's cottage. It was his mother who had covered his eyes and dragged him from the house, and now she knelt before him with tears in her eyes. She leaned forward and wrapped him in a hug. Harry couldn't find the will to hug his mother back. He accepted her hug as one question ran through his mind.
"Why?"
His mother had no answer, she just hugged him harder.
Harry and his mother walked back to their home in silence. As soon as they entered the house, Harry was sent straight to bed by his mother and he didn't protest. His father arrived home a few minutes later and came into his room to wish him goodnight. His mother came in after that.
"Are you all right?" she asked, her voice was soft.
Harry shook his head.
His mother knelt down next to his bed and stroked his hair. "I know it was horrible what you saw," she said, "But you need to try and sleep."
Harry felt like he'd never sleep again. He couldn't get the girl's screaming out of his mind. He couldn't get the girl's agonized face out of his mind. Worst of all, he couldn't get Grindelwald's glowing gold eyes out of his mind.
"I'll try," Harry said, choosing not to tell his mother any of this.
She leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek, then she stood up and walked towards the door.
"Wait," Harry said. She turned around to face him, "Did you...did you look him in the eyes?"
She nodded.
"Then why weren't you scared?"
"Because I'm not afraid of him," she said, her voice firm.
Harry's eyes widened and he nodded slowly. His mother left the room after bidding him good night and he rolled over and tried to sleep. He still couldn't get the girl's agonized face or her scream out of his head. He still couldn't get Grindelwald's malice filled eyes out of his head. When those eyes had been directed at him he was so sure that he was going to be cursed next. But, there was something else in Harry's mind now: his mother's eyes, vibrantly and beautifully green. Those eyes had met the Emperor's golden ones and she hadn't been afraid. Harry realized that if the Emperor had tried to curse him he wouldn't have succeeded because his mother was there. With that thought prominently in his mind, a sense of comfort fell over him like a warm blanket and he managed to fall asleep.
When Harry woke up the morning after a fitful night of sleep, he found a box laying on his nightstand. He grabbed the box and opened it, thinking that it was a belated Christmas gift. What he found inside was his wand. In the chaos of the night before he'd forgotten that he'd dropped it. Also in the box was a note written in the loopy script of Albus Dumbledore.
Dear Harry, the note read, I believe you dropped this last night. I'd like to apologize for what happened at the party. I'm afraid that Gellert's anger can get the best of him sometimes. Unfortunately, the poor muggle girl happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. All the best, Albus Dumbledore.
Harry read the note again with an expression of disbelief. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a frustrated sigh. He crumpled up the the note and tossed it across the room. He believed in Dumbledore, he believed in the greater good, he believed that muggles had to live below wizards. But he didn't believe that muggles deserved to be treated like that.
No one deserved to be treated like that.
