New Revealations

After class, the headmistress thought it important to talk with Harry right away. Hermione came to her office as well, still sniffling occasionally, her eyes bloodshot.

"Cheer up, Hermione," Harry encouraged, "at least we're not in trouble. Besides, I think I want to see a lot more of our new head..."

Hermione hiccoughed and wiped her shiny green nose on her pink handkerchief. "Oh Harry," she said thickly, "I'm sorry that what we're going to have to make you understand will upset you, but you have to get it."

Harry sat directly across the desk from Heidi, looking full at her. He felt himself melt inside; here was the image of his mother as she should have been; powerful and unconquerable, able to take care of him – too strong for Voldemort to kill. She had even forced Dumbledore himself to back off. What did Harry care for the plot dumping old coot one way or another if his desperate desire that had started when he saw the Mirror of Erised was going to be granted to him? He had desperately wanted his mum back for four and a half years. Heidi's face was slightly longer than Lily's and she had a little cleft in her chin, but her features were just as symmetrical, the shape of her nose and cheekbones just as perfect and her overall beauty just as striking. The skin of her face may have been green, but at this moment, that only enhanced her in Harry's eyes and he had to fight down a wild impulse to kiss her.

"Harry – tell me about your feelings, my sweet," said Heidi softly, still gazing at him.

"Just a moment-" began Hermione.

Heidi raised a hand; "sorry Hermione, you must let Harry speak."

Harry thought. How could he express it without weirding her out? Didn't she already know what his feelings were? She was psychic, after all.

"Hermione and I could both tell you," he began, awkwardly, "back at Hogwarts when we were playing a Quidditch match against Slytherin, I won the match as usual and Malfoy tried to taunt me about why I used to visit the Weasleys. I wouldn't have cared if he had only babbled that my mum was "stinky," that is honestly the sort of taunt you would expect from a two year old – no, what really got to me was the fact that I went to the Weasleys, because deep down, I desperately wanted my mum back. Somehow I must have guessed that they were related to her. In a really weird alternate universe, I might have actually started to be attracted to the horrible Ginny, because she is certainly pretty and red headed, and is related to me..."

Hermione had put her hands to her mouth, her eyes wide.

"Go on, my dear," said Heidi, still gazing into his eyes. He felt the intensity of her gaze enter him like twin sun beams.

"Living with the Dursleys, no one ever loved me," said Harry bitterly, "then during my first Christmas at Hogwarts, Dumbledore let me see the Mirror of Erised, which showed me surrounded by my lost family, the Dursleys excluded from the picture. That almost killed me. I kept wanting to be in my mum's arms, where it must be safe and warm, isn't the womb supposed to be the safest and warmest place? Maybe back in her womb again as much as is possible would be best for me."

Hermione sobbed audibly and Harry still held Heidi's gaze. "I – I think you must be like my mum," he said in a rush. It was almost a relief to confess it, getting a great weight off his chest. "I really want to take you in my arms and kiss you."

He could hear Hermione gasp, but Heidi beamed.

"There Hermione, is it not wonderful that Harry trusts us enough to share all that with us? It gladdens me when a student is ready to confide so much."

"Headmistress, you do understand…?" said Hermione, tentatively.

"Of course I do, but that Harry can express it is the first step towards healing," said Heidi, "well done, dear Harry, well done indeed."

"You seemed to get rid of Dumbledore alright, so you are more than capable of getting rid of Voldemort," said Harry, still admiring Heidi's fine features and the glint and shine of her auburn hair, "any baby of yours is perfectly safe."

"Ach! Dear Harry I must tell you that Dumbledore and Voldemort seem much like "variations on a theme" as you English say? That's an English phrase I like," said Heidi, shaking her head so that her long red hair rippled and bounced. "It is appalling that he sent you to live with those Roald Dahl grotesques. Not only was there no need, but he had a dark intention, that I must tell you."

Harry glanced at Hermione who nodded, her eyes still bright with her tears.

"Voldemort performed terrible magic on himself," said Heidi, her tone becoming grave again. "He split his spirit – his soul into pieces and stored these fragments in various magical artefacts."

"So that's how the old horror keeps coming back!" said Harry, "I should have guessed it would be something like that."

Heidi nodded, "it's like this concept of a liche from Dungeons and Dragons, except that instead of storing his soul in one object, Voldemort has split his into many pieces and put each into a different item."

"Sounds like he made the Dungeons and Dragons concept worse and scarier," said Harry.

"My dear, it is worse than you think," said Heidi, "this will come as a shock."

"Wow, I wonder what it would be like to be shocked for a change," said Harry.

Heidi laughed nervously. "British humour is irrepressible," she admitted, "but you will not like what I say…" she took a deep breath, "when the horror attacked you he accidentally left a shard of his spirit in you, in your scar."

"WHAT!" exclaimed Harry, jumping up and glancing wildly around the office. The room seemed to spin. He turned to Hermione.

"It's true Harry," she said in a very small voice, "that's how you can speak Parseltongue, but your mum's protection has kept the piece of Voldemort contained in your scar."

Harry felt himself falling and suddenly both witches had their arms around him. Their green faces filled his vision and when he came to he was sitting on a soft, velvet couch and the other end of the office, Hermione's arms around him and Heidi's green face peering into his, her red hair spilling onto his chest, her expression very anxious. "You are going to be alright, dear," she said, "you are resilient, you can take bad news. We may be able to cure you."

"Why didn't Dumbledore say anything?" muttered Harry, resentment bubbling up inside him.

"Dumbledore is an old liar," said Hermione, angrily. "It all comes down to his nonsense about the Greater Good. Don't you see, Harry? He got it into his head that you had to die, because of the stupid Horcrux. I will never forgive him for even thinking that. As far as I am concerned, he is an enemy, like Voldemort is."

"You see? Hermione is staunch as a rock," said Heidi, saying that words in English. It must have been another turn of phrase she liked the sound of. "We are both looking after you now."

"Exactly what I needed to hear" said Harry.

Harry was lucky to have Hermione as a best friend, he had always known it. But his neurosis about the issue of his mother was not yet resolved. Looking into Heidi's green eyes he felt contentment fill him.