Harriet Potter Year 1: Life, Death, and Rebirth
"Because things are the way they are, things will not stay the way they are".
~Bertolt Brecht
Chapter 9: Remus's (Very) Old Acquaintances
Harriet Potter, The Great Hall, Hogwarts- December 21, 1991
The small scream pierced the hall as a sword cut through the air, showing no mercy. Pieces of rubble scattered around the table.
"Checkmate," said Ron triumphantly. Harriet scowled at him and moved to examine the chessboard. Sure enough, after Ron's gory destruction of her knight, her king was cornered with no way out. With an annoyed huff, she toppled it over, signifying defeat. Ron grabbed his spoils: the chocolate frog-the last of what her parents had sent her.
"Thats completely barbaric!" Ron and Harriet turned around in time to see Hermione entering the Great Hall, lugging a massive suitcase behind her. When she sat down next to them, she was out of breath and panting slightly.
"Thats Wizard's chess," Ron informed her cheerfully. At least, that was what Harriet assumed he was saying. It was difficult to understand him through the mouthful of chocolate. Hermione shook her head disgustedly.
"I see you've packed," Harriet offered, trying to diffuse the tension between her two bickering friends. Hermione gave a curt nod and turned to Ron.
"I see you haven't," she snapped at him. Harriet sighed and gave up, choosing, instead, to sit back and watch. Ron raised his chin defiantly.
"Change of plans," he informed her, "My parents are going to visit my brother Charlie. He's studying dragons there."
"So I guess there is no chance of asking your parents who Nicolas Flamel is, then," sighed Hermione, disappointed. Harriet was just happy that the two hadn't gotten into a shouting match, something that was relatively common for them.
"No," agreed Ron, then adding, more brightly, "You can ask your parents! That'd be safe!"
"Very safe," Hermione said drily, "as they're both dentists."
"Oh right," Ron grumbled dejectedly, taking the final bight of his chocolate frog. Hermione turned to Harriet and looked at her appraisingly. Harriet braced herself for what she knew was coming.
"You could ask-"
"No."
"You didn't even-"
"The answer is still no."
"You don't even know what I was going to say! Thats hardly fair!"
"I don't care. I'm not asking my parents about Nicolas Flamel."
"Why not?" demanded Hermione, obviously annoyed that Harriet had guessed her motives. It hadn't been difficult, since they had had this conversation several times before.
"I already told you," Harriet stressed, "They've been asking me for weeks to let this whole thing go. I don't want them to think that I'm not listening to them."
"But you aren't listening to them," Ron pointed out. Harriet threw a chess piece at Ron, who had found the one flaw in her almost perfect plan. The guilt had been eating at her for weeks, but, as usual, her curiosity had overridden all else.
"They don't know that," Harriet retorted, ignoring Hermione's slightly disapproving stare. "Besides, just because I can't ask them any questions, doesn't mean I can't do any digging. We have a massive library back home, with tons of books that aren't here at Hogwarts."
"I suppose that'd be okay," conceded Hermione, trying not to let on how much the idea of solving the mystery enticed her. "I just wish we had a way to communicate over break. I don't have an owl and Errol is too old to make long flights, so all we would have is Hedwig.
"That would take too long," Ron dismissed tactlessly.
"It would tire her out, too, Ronald," Hermione informed the red-head tersely. Ron let out a slightly embarrassed laugh.
"Oh, right," Ron muttered. He gave Harriet a careful look. "Don't tell her I said that, would ya?" Ron, Hermione, and Harriet had learned very early on that Hedwig had quite the attitude, and that she was unafraid of showing her opinion when displeased, usually with the use of teeth and talons.
"I won't," Harriet said half-heartedly, not really paying attention. She was thinking about the two small packages in her trunk, wrapped in sparkly gift-wrap and ready to be given to her friends, come Christmas day.
"I might have a solution," she said carefully, "if you wouldn't be opposed to exchanging Christmas gifts a bit early-"
"Why would be against that?" laughed Ron, eyes bright with the thought of presents. Hermione, too, looked very pleased.
"We have enough time before the train leaves in a few hours," she exclaimed, jumping up from her seat. The three hurried quickly to the common room, which was overflowing with students saying their last goodbyes to each other around the Christmas tree.
Harriet and Hermione split up from Ron as they each headed to their respective dorms. Hermione stayed downstairs as she already had her luggage with her, along with her gifts. Harriet managed to find her trunk and, with some hasty digging, procured her gifts. Studiously ignoring Lavender and Parvati's weepy good-byes, she headed back downstairs. She exchanged looks with Ron, who had also just returned, and Hermione, as all three of them came to the realization that the common room was just too noisy.
"We could head up to the boys' dorm" Ron offered. "Its a lot quieter."
"Why is it that girls are allowed in the boys' dormitories, but not other other way around?" Harriet wondered aloud while the trio was hastily ascending the steps.
"Its an ancient rule that dates back to when Hogwarts was first built," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "Apparently, girls were more trustworthy than boys. Anybody who has read Hogwarts, A History would know about it!"
"So only you?" Ron asked, sounding dead serious. Harriet laughed and Ron pushed open the door. The boys' dormitory, Harriet discovered, looked exactly like the girls' dormitory only instead of being filled with fashion magazines, cosmetics, and posters of the latest actor or rockstar, it was filled with sports magazines, Quidditch posters, and several pairs of underwear littering the floor.
Both Harriet and Hermione couldn't hide their snickers as Ron hastily grabbed his underpants and stuffed them under his pillows.
"Alright then," he said calmly, plopping lazily on his bed. He held out his two presents. "Who first?"
"Open mine!" Hermione said eagerly, giving both Harriet and Ron their gifts. Harriet raised an eyebrow when she felt the familiar shape of a book, but was pleasantly surprised when she opened it.
"Its a homework planner," Hermione explained, "each month shows a new Quidditch move for you to try and each day lists an important accomplishment for women in Quidditch."
"Thats brilliant, Hermione," Harriet thanked. She turned to Ron and laughed at his awestruck expression. He was flipping through a large book of pictures of Quidditch players. Their bright orange robes told her that they were the Chudley Cannons, Ron's favorite team.
"Thanks, Hermione," he breathed, flipping to another page. Hermione flushed, very pleased. Ron gave the book one last look before putting it down. He pulled out his two gifts, wrapped in plain brown paper and each a similar size and shape.
"I didn't really have any money to spend," he said, uncomfortable, "so they may not be as nice as-"
"Shut up, Ron."
"Honestly, Ron! Like we care!"
Harriet made quick work of her paper and, once it was gone, stared at the gift. It was a picture resting in a simple frame. The photo showed herself, Ron, and Hermione walking down one of the Hogwarts corridors, laughing at something one of them had said. Harriet grinned at Ron, who was looking a tad awkward.
"Where did you get the picture?" Harriet asked, not remembering anybody with a camera there.
"Its a spell," Ron explained, obviously glad that neither Harriet or Hermione were going to go all mushy on him. "Its a bit advanced, but I convinced Percy to help me. I told him I was trying to get extra-credit in Charms."
Harriet chuckled and Hermione tutted disapprovingly. Then, the two girls exchanged glances. Wearing identical smirks, they simultaneously threw themselves at Ron and began to sob hysterically.
"Oh, Ronald!" Hermione fake cried, "Its just so-so-so beautiful!"
"What did I do to deserve a friend like you?" exclaimed Harriet.
"Alright, alright alright!" Ron squawked. He squirmed and, after a few seconds, finally managed to get both girls off of him. He expected to have to console them or get them a tissue or something (his mother had made sure to teach him how to treat girls, telling him that he would thank her for it later), so he was shocked to see his two friends laughing and rolling on the floor.
"Your face," gasped Harriet through her laughter. Hermione was trying to catch her breath, holding her side.
"That wasn't funny!" he said indignantly. Both girls giggled.
"Yes it was," denied Hermione, and by the grin forming on Ron's face, he reluctantly had agreed.
"Open my presents now," Harriet instructed. "The train is leaving soon."
She handed them each their gifts, which they opened with the same relish as they had the other ones. Hermione was the first to finish, but instead of the smile Harriet had been hoping for, she wore a confused frown. Harriet's grin dropped.
"You don't like it?"
"What?" Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh no, Harriet! Its lovely, I'm just a bit confused. You said our gifts would solve our communication problem."
"They will," affirmed Harriet. Ron raised an eyebrow and held up his gift.
"How is a mirror supposed to help us talk to each other?" Harriet laughed.
"They aren't normal mirrors. My dad and his three best friends made them in school so they could talk to each other in detention in stuff. Sirius gave them to me on my birthday and now I'm giving them to you. I've got one more in my trunk."
"Three-way mirrors," exclaimed Ron, "thats wicked!"
"It was originally four-way," Harriet agreed, "but the fourth one is...lost," Harriet finished lamely. If Ron and Hermione picked up on it, they didn't say anything. They were too busy playing with their reflections on the mirror.
"I can see you, Hermione," he said to Hermione's image on the mirror. Hermione nodded eagerly.
"I can see you, too!" Hermione laughed. She cocked her head to the side. "Harriet?"
"Yeah, Hermione?"
"You said your father and his friends made these mirrors."
"They did," Harriet said, not quite sure where Hermione was going.
"Well, that means they are one of a kind," Hermione frowned.
"Probably," Harriet shrugged, unconcerned.
"Are you sure you want to give them to us?" Hermione questioned. Ron looked up sharply. "I mean, you said Sirius gave them to you-"
"Sirius gave them to me so I could use them." Harriet interrupted. "Not so that they would sit in my trunk unused for the rest of my life. He knew that I'd be giving some of them away to my friends."
"Are you sure you want to give them to us, though?" Ron asked. "What if you change your mind or something?"
This time he was the one looking unsure, holding the mirror as though Harriet might change her mind and try to snatch it away. Harriet felt a warm feeling of affection swell in her heart when she looked at her two friends, both of whom were so concerned that she would regret her decision.
"I'm positive," Harriet said resolutely. "I'm not going to change my mind anytime soon."
Harriet Potter, Kings Cross- December 21, 1991
Both Harriet and Hermione sat patiently on Harriet's trunk at King's Cross. Legs dangling over the sides, they watched as the other kids wandered around, looking for their parents. Some of the reunions were filled with tears and laughter, while others were a bit more quiet. Neither of them talked, just enjoying each other's company.
"Sugar Quill?" offered Hermione. Harriet took one.
"Thanks," she said, sucking on one. She smirked. "What happened to only sugar-free candy?"
"I did some research," Hermione said, "Apparently most brands of wizard candy are charmed against cavity and tooth-decay." Harriet nodded and took another suck, honestly not caring. To her, candy was candy and candy was good.
"Hey, Prongslette!" Harriet jumped, as she felt two arms wrap themselves around her and lift her up. Hermione, so startled, fell off her seat on the trunk. Harriet was too busy giving her father a hug to notice, though. She hadn't realized how much she had missed her parents until she stood there hugging them.
"Dad," she mumbled into his robes. She felt him chuckle and hug her closer.
"Miss me?" he joked. She looked up at him and nodded, making him smile.
"What about me?" came a softer voice from next to them.
"Mum!" Harriet abandoned her father and launched herself at her mother, who returned her hug with equal fervor. It felt so good to seem them again.
"So thats how it is then?" her father joked. "One minute you're all lovey-dovey and the next I'm being left for a pretty witch with great hair?" Harriet mother rolled her eyes.
"Mum can cook," Harriet pointed out and her father laughed and nodded. "Are Moony and Padfoot here?"
"No," James admitted. "Neither could get the day off. They'll be at the house later for your 'Welcome Home!' dinner, though." Harriet didn't even try to convince them that she didn't need a welcome home dinner, but she knew that it would be pointless. She had inherited her stubborn streak from both her parents.
Harriet looked and noticed Hermione picking herself up off the ground.
"Hermione?" Harriet asked, offering her friend her hand to help pull her up. "What are you doing on the ground?"
"I fell over," she said, obviously annoyed, although she took Harriet's hand anyways. She managed to stand up and straightened up her robes.
"Are you okay?" Harriet asked as Hermione brushed herself off. "Are you hurt?"
"No," Hermione assured, then she grimaced. "Just my pride."
"Well, you have plenty of that," Harriet dismissed, waving her hand, "it probably cushioned the blow. You'll be fine." Hermione hit Harriet upside the head with her box of Sugar Quills. It may have been almost empty, but it still was not a pleasant sensation.
"Ow," she hissed, "Okay, um...Sorry. Just kidding"
"You better have been," Hermione told her loftily. Harriet, still rubbing the sore spot on her head waved Hermione towards her parents, who had been watching the proceedings, amused. Hermione straightened and waited patiently for Harriet to introduce her.
"Mum, Dad," she said, "this is Hermione. Hermione these are my parents."
"Its a pleasure to meet you," Hermione said simply, offering them her hand. Harriet resisted the urge to laugh as each of her parents introduced herself. Hermione was acting as if this was a business agreement. Harriet's mum smiled.
"Are your parents coming to pick you up, Hermione?" Hermione nodded and began scanning the crowd, which had already begun to thin out.
"They should be here somewhere-" Hermione muttered, before her eyes lit up. "There they are!" She beamed. She grabbed her luggage. "It was a pleasure meeting you!"
"It was nice to meet you, too," her father said. Hermione turned to Harriet and grabbed her sleeve, pulling.
"I want to introduce you to them," Hermione ordered and Harriet laughingly agreed, letting Hermione pull her along. Hermione's parents were looking a bit out of place in the station, obviously still uncomfortable with the idea of magic. They relaxed considerably at the sight of their daughter.
Harriet stood to the side politely while Hermione greeted her parents with a warm hug for each of them. When they had finished, Hermione moved to her side and pushed Harriet forward, eagerly.
"Mum, Dad," she said smiling, "this is my friend Harriet, the one I told you about."
"Hello," Harriet said unsurely. What exactly had Hermione told her parents about her? She gave them a small smile. "Its nice to-OOMPH!"
Harriet found herself being held hard by Hermione's mum, who was thanking her over and over and over again. Harriet tried to squirm out of her grasp, but couldn't do it. She felt herself getting a bit lightheaded. Hermione understood her plight, though.
"Mum! Let her go! You're choking her, Mum!" Hermione's mum released her and Harriet was able to stumble backwards, gasping for breath. Hermione's mother looked sheepish, but Harriet waved away her concern.
"I'm fine," she wheezed. She took another deep breath. "What are you thanking me for?"
"You saved Hermione from a troll," Hermione's father told her, saying the word troll slowly, as if learning another language and not yet familiar with the terminology. Harriet shifted her weight on her feet.
"It was nothing?" She posed, but when it was clear Hermione's parents were not going to take that as a really answer, she tried a different tactic. "Well," she shrugged, "it wasn't nothing, but Ron and Hermione and I became friends afterwards, so it was worth it."
Hermione's parents grinned at this, as did Hermione. Harriet turned around and saw her mother and father waiting patiently for her. "I need to go.."
"Of course, dear," Hermione's mum said, her brown eyes (the same as Hermione's) looking warmly at her.
"Happy holidays!" added her father, while Hermione gave her one last hug goodbye. She waved to them and then jogged over to her parents. She smiled when she reached them, slightly out of breath.
"Ready?" posed her father. Harriet nodded.
"Yeah," she answered, "lets go home."
Potter Manor-December 21, 1991
With a satisfied nod, Harriet finished putting everything away in her room. Isaura was watching uninterested from her small tree. Hedwig had stayed behind at Hogwarts. Harriet turned to her snake.
"Its good to be home, isn't it?" asked Harriet. Isaura nodded and curled up tighter around the tree, apparently tired from the long train ride and not in the mood to talk. Harriet getting the message, left her room, closing the door quietly behind her. She made her way to the kitchen, where her mother and father were both drinking tea, the cooking supplies behind them beginning to make dinner.
For some reason, she stopped outside the doorway, listening in to what they were saying. She wasn't sure what made her do it; maybe it was a delayed reaction from living with the Dursleys, where she would often check her Uncle's mood before entering a room.
"Are you sure its a good idea to have them over, Lily?" her father was asking. Her mother sighed and then shrugged.
"I don't know. I just feel bad that they are spending the holidays all alone." Her father frowned.
"Yes, but if Harriet-"
"Harriet hasn't brought up the matter in weeks! I doubt she will make the connection."
Harriet frowned and decided that now might be a good moment to break in. Taking a few steps back from the door, she stomped loudly into the kitchen. Her parents, she noted, looked a bit too casual. What were they keeping from her?
"Tea?" Harriet's mum offered. Harriet nodded her consent and cheerfully hopped up on a stool. She looked critically at the food being prepared for dinner.
"Isn't that a lot of food?" Harriet asked. Lily looked up from pouring sugar into the tea.
"It is," she laughed, "but remember, Sirius and Remus are coming. And a few friends of Remus have been invited as well."
"Who?" Harriet asked, bewildered. Remus was really nice, so it was no surprise to her that he had friends, but she hadn't heard of any save Sirius and her dad until just now.
"Actually," James explained, letting Harriet sip her still hot tea, "its his boss and his boss's wife who will be joining us. They are very old and don't have any family, so we thought they might like some company over the holidays."
Harriet nodded understandingly.
"Have you finished unpacking, love?"
"Yeah," Harriet assured, "Isaura is upstairs taking a nap."
"Hogwarts life too busy for her?" her father laughed. Harriet shrugged.
"She spent a lot of time with Hagrid. He liked her a lot." She snorted. "I will never understand Hagrid's love of dangerous animals."
"Your mother and I meant to talk to you about that," her father began slowly. Harriet grimaced. "We understand your curiosity, Harriet, but you can't continue to poke around the castle. It can be dangerous." He didn't called her Prongslette, Harriet noted, so she knew he was serious. She nodded fervently.
"I know," she said quickly. "I didn't go looking for the dog, though, I promise!"
"So how did you manage to stumble upon it then?" her mother posed. Harriet shifted uncomfortably and, for the first time that Harriet's parents had seen, she actually looked a bit guilty.
"It was an accident," she said carefully, "just a misunderstanding between Malfoy and me."
"Malfoy and I," corrected her mother idly.
"Not you," Harriet denied, "me." Her mum gave her a look and she smiled sheepishly. It had been too hard to resist.
"Don't sass your mother," her mother teased. Harriet made her eyes wide and innocent, resisting the urge to laugh.
"I could never sass you, mum," Harriet promised, making her father laugh out loud. While they laughed and joked, Harriet thanked her luck stars that she had managed to draw their attention away from her (almost) midnight duel with Malfoy.
It was a little bit later when Remus and Sirius finally showed up. Sirius was the one who showed up first, sweeping her into a hug so tight that, for the second time that day, she actually felt herself choking.
"Sirius!" she gasped. He laughed and set her down, as if her dying from lack of oxygen was something amusing to him. She glared at him.
"I missed you, Prongslette," he smiled, apparently assuming that she wasn't really angry with him. He was right, since when her glare softened and she laughed, going in for another (less tight) hug.
"I missed you, too, Sirius," she told him meaningfully.
"What? No hug for me?" a voice demanded. Harriet looked and realized that Remus had just entered the kitchen. She threw herself at him.
"Remus," she exclaimed. He, like Sirius, laughed and gave her a large hug. It felt good to be back home, she decided, even if she loved Hogwarts. "Are your bosses coming soon, Uncle Moony?"
"Yes," he assured her, letting her go.
"Why don't you go set the table before they get here, love?" her mum suggested. Harriet nodded, finally glad to have something to do while she waited. She threw a table cloth over the table and set up the plates and cups. She was just putting the silverware down when she heard some voices from the living room: Remus's bosses had arrived.
"Harriet?" Harriet looked at the doorway, where Remus was leading two of the oldest people she had ever seen into the dining room. She put the silverware down almost immediately, moving to pull two chairs out for them. The old man gave her a soft smile.
"Nicolas," Remus introduced, "Perenelle, this is Harriet, Lily and James's daughter. Harriet, these are the people who own the bookstore where I work, Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel."
It took all of Harriet's not-so-considerable experience to not show how she was feeling back then. I guess I know what mum and dad were hiding from me, she realized, as she shook the hand of the person she and her friends had been looking for for weeks, now.
"Its a pleasure to meet you," Harriet told them, trying not to sound too giddy. Now, she rationalized, all she needed to do is find out how they know Dumbledore and enough about them to give Hermione something to go on in the library. "Let me finish setting up the table."
They both smiled politely as Harriet bustled about. Remus and Sirius had taken their seats, while Harriet's father helped his wife in the kitchen. Harriet had just sat down when they brought dinner out. Harriet felt her stomach clench in anticipation. As good as Hogwarts's food was, nothing beat her mum's cooking.
Conversation stalled for a bit as everybody enjoyed the food. It was Mr. Flamel who finally broke it.
"Well, Lily," he told her, his voice incredibly raspy but still undeniably cheerful, "I must say that Remus was not exaggerating about your cooking. The food is remarkable."
"Thank-you," Harriet's mum said, looking very pleased. Harriet couldn't help but nod in fervent agreement.
"I really missed your cooking, mum," she admitted. Mrs. Flamel examined Harriet curiously.
"Remus said it was your first year at Hogwarts, dear?"
"Yes, Mrs. Flamel," Harriet said politely. Mr. Flamel smiled at her.
"And how are you liking it?" Harriet couldn't stop the grin that overtook her face.
"Its fantastic!" she beamed. Mr. Flamel chuckled appreciatively.
"I can imagine," he agreed. "Especially with Albus as headmaster." Harriet saw an opportunity and took it. Making herself look as innocent as possible, she asked, "You know Professor Dumbledore?"
"Oh yes," said Mr. Flamel, taking a moment to lift a shaking hand to wipe his mouth with a napkin. "He was alchemy partner for quite some time. I've known him since he was very young."
"Dumbledore was young?" Harriet had really meant to ask what Mr. Flamel was doing owning a bookstore if he was an alchemist, but for some reason, she was unable to stop herself from asking that. It was such an odd image. Harriet's parents both laughed and Sirius, who had been taking a sip of wine, almost choked. Mr. Flamel just smiled.
"Yes, well, this was a very long time ago," he explained. He grabbed his wife's hand. "I've long since retired. Perenelle and I much more content with our bookstore." Harriet smiled, as he had also answered her second question.
"Too much action involved in alchemy," Mr. Flamel added with a wink. Harriet giggled and conversation moved onto slightly more neutral topics.
It was very late when the Flamels left, with Remus escorting them to their home. Sirius stayed behind for a bit, just joking with Harriet's dad and making her laugh, but, eventually, he left as well. Harriet was finally told by her parents to head to bed.
She changed and made herself comfortable under the covers. She didn't go to sleep right away, however. She stayed up, staring at her ceiling, head swimming with what she had figured out. Granted, it wasn't much, but the knowledge that Nicolas Flamel was an alchemist who had worked with Dumbledore would give Hermione plenty to go one when she began looking in the libary-
Hermione! Ron! She sat up straight. She had forgotten to tell them what she knew. She chewed on the inside of her cheek and eyed the door leading to the hallway. It was well past her bedtime, but she honestly didn't know if she had the self-control needed to wait until tomorrow to tell her friends. Nor did she want them to get mad because she hadn't told them right away.
She crept carefully from bed, doing her best not to wake up Isaura, and opened up her trunk, rummaging around until she found her mirror. Laying back down in bed, she held it up to her face.
"Hermione?" she hissed as loudly as she dared, "Ron? Are you there?"
She heard some rustling on the other side of the mirror. Ron's face appeared first, slightly wrinkled from sleeping. He looked exceptionally drowsy. He scowled.
"Harriet? What are you thinking? I was sleeping?"
"So was I!" it was Hermione who appeared now, rubbing the sleep out her eyes. She also looked very annoyed. Harriet gave them an apologetic smile.
"I know," she whispered, keeping an ear toward the hallways in case either of her parents thought to check on her. "but you won't believe who we had over today for dinner!"
Judging by Hermione's and Ron's blank expression, they had no clue. "Nicolas Flamel and his wife!"
"What?"
"Are you serious?"
Hermione and Ron forgot to keep their voices down. Harriet mentally cursed her bad luck as she saw the hall light turn on and heard footsteps in the hall. Ignoring her friends protests and calls for more information, she stuffed her mirror underneath her bed. She pulled her covers tight around her and closed her eyes just before her bedroom door cracked open.
"Harriet?" her father's voice asked. Harriet made sure not to move.
"I told you she wasn't awake, James," her mother tutted. Harriet heard her move closer to the bed and felt her stroke her hair a few seconds later. She leant into it a bit, making her mother chuckle.
"I thought I heard something," her father protested, before admitting, "I guess I was wrong."
"Mhm," laughed her mother softly, placing a kiss on Harriet's head. Harriet heard more soft footfalls followed by the door closing. The lights in the hall went off. Harriet waited another moment before she pulled the mirror out.
"Sorry," she muttered to her impatient friends, "my parents came in."
"I really don't like all this secrecy," Hermione fretted. Harriet sighed and shifted around a bit on her bed.
"Neither do I," she admitted. "But something is going on at Hogwarts and I am determined to find out what it is!" She hissed. "Now, do you want to hear about Nicolas Flamel's visit, or not?"
Her friends listened raptly as she explained the visit and what Flamel had let slip to her over the course of the dinner.
"So Flamel was an alchemist?" surmised Ron. "And he gave it up to own a bookstore?"
"No wonder we haven't been able to find anything," sighed an exasperated Hermione. "We've been looking in the wrong section all this time! If Flamel worked with Dumbledore many many years ago, I should be able to figure out around what time that happened," she was muttering to herself at this point, "and then examine his other achievements and deduce which is the most probably for Dumbledore to be protecting."
"You do that, Hermione," Ron told her, letting out a huge yawn. "I'm going to bed."
Harriet's own yawn followed. "Yeah," she agreed, "its late. I'm sorry for waking you guys up. I just thought you might want to know. I didn't want you to get mad because I didn't tell you right away-"
"Harriet," Harriet got the feeling that Hermione would have sounded more exasperated had she not been so tired, "we aren't going to get mad at you if you don't tell us a piece of news right away. You can wait until its convenient for you."
"And us, mate," Ron said sleepily. "Like, not at three in the morning."
"I'll let you guys get to bed, then," Harriet said softly. "Good-night."
"Good-night, Harriet."
"'Night, mate." The mirrors went dark and Harriet was left alone in her room.
"Love you guys," she whispered, before putting the mirror back under her bed and finally drifting off to sleep.
Her dreams were odd: she was playing in the yard with her family and Ron and Hermione. Slowly they faded away until she was rolling around the floor with Padfoot. He shifted, though, into Fluffy, who advanced at her with his teeth bared. She tried to run away, but something had wrapped around her legs. Quirrell's turban was constricting her legs, moving upwards, until it was completely smothering her.
Harriet jerked awake and took a few deep breaths before falling back asleep. When she woke up the next morning, she couldn't remember any of it.
Potter Manor-Christmas Day, 1991
Harriet had been in the middle of a surprisingly deep sleep when she felt something wet on her face. She tried swatting it away, but it didn't work. It almost felt as though it were raining, or maybe if something was licking her-
"Sirius!" she cried, sitting up and shoving him off of her. She managed to find her glasses and put them on. She glared crossly at him, annoyed. He just continued to sit on her bed, his tail wagging excitedly. "Its early," she grumbled, "what are you even doing up?"
He didn't say anything (obviously he couldn't in his dog form), but grabbed the wrist of her pajamas and pulled hard. Getting the hint, she climbed out of bed, shivering a bit when she felt the cold floor hit her bare feet. She stopped along the way to get Isaura, who was also displeased at being woken up so early, and followed Sirius downstairs. Because she was going much slower than he was, he disappeared around the corner before she even made the bottom of the stairs.
When she made it into the living room, she found that he had changed back into his human form and that he was waiting for her with her parents and Remus. Harriet's eyes widened as she took in the sight: underneath their large Christmas tree was the largest pile of presents Harriet had ever seen. More than Dudley had ever dreamed of.
"Are you just going to stand there?" laughed Sirius. "Or are going to open your presents?"
"I have presents?" Harriet asked, wide-eyed. James frowned.
"What were you expecting? Turnips?"
Harriet didn't say anything, simply sitting down in daze on the floor next to the tree. If she had thought her birthday was full of presents, it had nothing on Christmas. She lost count of the presents from her parents, Sirius, and even Remus, but she got gifts from other people, too.
Hagrid gave her a small flute. When she blew on it, it sounded like an owl. Snape, in an obvious attempt to keep her from getting into any more meetings with angry trolls, got her a book called Looking Before You Leap: Thinking Through Hair-Brained Schemes Before Actually Going Through With Them. The author, Gabriel Temerarious, had died in a tragic cliff-diving accident, leaving his wife to publish his book.
"I thought Slytherins were supposed to be subtle," she asked her mum, referring to Uncle Sev's rather obvious motives behind his gift. Her mum just laughed.
Another surprising gift was from the Dursleys'. Harriet took the gift, shocked that they had bothered to get her anything. Apparently her little "accident" the last time she had seen them had scared them.
"A fifty-pence piece?" Remus asked skeptically. Sirius raised an eyebrow as Harriet snorted.
"That was generous of them," she said dryly. She held it in her hand for a second, not really sure what she should do with it, before adding it to the rest of her presents. "I'll give it to Ron," she shrugged, remembering his wide-eyed look at some of the Muggle things she had shown him. "I'm sure he'll get a kick out of it."
Speaking of the Weasleys, Molly Weasley had given Harriet a large box of homemade fudge, which Harriet tasted and found to be very good. She also received a homemade, emerald green sweater. Slipping it on, she smiled, as it was soft and warm and just the right size for her.
Harriet wasn't the only one who received presents, though. Harriet loved watching her family open their presents almost as much as she loved opening her own. Harriet's favorite moment was when her father opened up Sirius's present. He opened the small box and it released a cloud of black powder. When it cleared, his entire face was covered in feather-spitting boils.
He stood shocked for a moment, not really sure what to do, while everybody else laughed and Lily made sure to snap a picture. After a few seconds, her father got up and charged after Sirius, chasing him around the living room. Remus, wanting to join in on the fun, stuck his foot out in order to trip his friend, but it backfired on him. Sirius tripped and fell on Remus, with James landing on top of him.
The three of them toppled over the armchair Remus was sitting on and landed in a tangled and swearing heap on the floor. Harriet's mum normally would have chewed them out for using foul language in front of Harriet, but she was also laughing too hard to talk.
Things finally settled down a bit after that. At least, until Sirius suggested that they all go outside after lunch and have a snowball fight. Uncle Severus, who had arrived just in time for his suggestion, was unwillingly dragged in on it.
Everybody put on their warmest clothes and trekked outside, ready to fight. The teams ended up being the Marauders versus Harriet, Lily and Uncle Severus. While the former team relied heavily on simply pummeling their opponents with snow, Lily and Harriet and Snape relied a bit more on stealth and strategy, thus winning the hours-long match.
Sirius and Harriet's father entered the house grumbling and annoyed, but when the smelled Harriet's mum's food a little while later, they instantly forgot about all their anger. Dinner was fantastic: A fat, roast turkey; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas; tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce.
As everybody laughed as Remus described a particularly amusing prank pulled by he and his friends in their Hogwarts days over Christmas break, Harriet found herself hard-pressed to stop smiling.
Her Christmases with the Dursleys were never exactly fun (her favorite present had been a tin of dog-biscuits from her Aunt Marge) and she had spent many nights sitting under the Christmas tree, just watching the light twinkle and wishing that one day she would have a better Christmas.
But not even in her wildest dreams had she imagined that Christmas with her real family would be this great.
Harriet Potter, Hogwarts- January 2, 1992
Harriet had arrived at Hogwarts the day before term started, along with most of the other students. Hermione was very eager to begin looking for Nicolas Flamel. Within minutes of entering the library, Hermione found the right book.
"I don't know why I didn't think of this before," she complained to Ron and Harriet as she pulled a particularly thick book from a shelf. She lead them to a table, where she began to flip through it . "I checked this out a few weeks ago for a bit of light reading!"
Ron eyed the book skeptically. "That's light?" Hermione scowled, but kept flipping.
"Here it is!" she said triumphantly. Ron and Harriet crowded around for a closer look. "Nicolas Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosopher's stone!" Ron and Harriet exchanged confused glances, letting out a simultaneous, "Huh?"
"Don't you two read?" Hermione asked tartly. Ron went to give a retort, but Harriet quickly shushed them both. Madam Pince was giving them both shrewd looks over her desk. When she finally looked away, Hermione said, "Look here!"
She read: "The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Philosopher's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal.
There have been many reports of the Philosopher's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life running a used book store, with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight)."
"That explains everything!" said Harriet, just a little too loudly. Madam Pince snapped.
"Alright, alright!" she hissed, taking their book from them. "You three have been loud enough! I want you out of my library right now, or five points will be taken from Gryffindor!" Harriet, Ron, and Hermione didn't need any more motivation. They darted out of there as fast as they could and headed for the common room.
"See?" said Hermione, as they walked. "The dog must be guarding Flamel's Philosopher's Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it, that's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!"
"The question is," posed Harriet, "who is trying to steal it?"
"Are you serious?" demanded Ron. "I'll tell ya' who! Its Snape. I bet that greasy-old bat would love to get his hands on the Stone!"
"It isn't Snape," said Harriet tartly. "Trust me."
"He tried to jinx you!"
"He let the troll in the bathroom!"
Harriet cut off her friend's protests with a firm shake of her head. They quieted. The three entered the Great Hall and took their seats, waiting for Harriet to say something.
"Somebody else here is trying to get at the Stone," she said surely. "I don't know what Snape's been trying to do, but, if anything, he's trying to protect the Stone."
"You think?" Ron asked, trying not to sound as doubtful of his friend as he really was. It didn't work and Harriet laughed, then shrugged. She framed her next words carefully.
"Dumbledore trusts Snape," Harriet said carefully. "What if, when Snape went to look for the three-headed dog that night, he wasn't looking for the Stone-"
"But for the actual thief!" said Hermione excited. Her smiled darkened. "But Harriet, he tried to jinx you! Remember? At Quidditch. I saw him muttering words under his breath and not blinking because you need to maintain eye contact for jinxes!"
Ron looked as though he had come to realization, "Don't you need to maintain eye contact for counter jinxes, too?"
"Of course," wailed Hermione, obviously disappointed with herself for not making the connection. "How did I not see that before?" Ron awkwardly patted her on the back, not really sure how to comfort her.
"So we have two very different theories," said Hermione, once she had calmed herself down. "Which is right?"
"There isn't really any way to tell," Harriet grimaced. "So, for now, I guess we just wait and see."
Harriet Potter Hogwarts-February 13, 1992
Harriet had arrived at Hogwarts the day before term started, along with most of the other students. Hermione was very eager to begin looking for Nicolas Flamel. Within minutes of entering the library, Hermione found the right book.
"I don't know why I didn't think of this before," she complained to Ron and Harriet as she pulled a particularly thick book from a shelf. She lead them to a table, where she began to flip through it . "I checked this out a few weeks ago for a bit of light reading!"
Ron eyed the book skeptically. "That's light?" Hermione scowled, but kept flipping.
"Here it is!" she said triumphantly. Ron and Harriet crowded around for a closer look. "Nicolas Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosopher's stone!" Ron and Harriet exchanged confused glances, letting out a simultaneous, "Huh?"
"Don't you two read?" Hermione asked tartly. Ron went to give a retort, but Harriet quickly shushed them both. Madam Pince was giving them both shrewd looks over her desk. When she finally looked away, Hermione said, "Look here!"
She read: "The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Philosopher's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal. There have been many reports of the Philosopher's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life running a used book store, with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight)."
"That explains everything!" said Harriet, just a little too loudly. Madam Pince snapped.
"Alright, alright!" she hissed, taking their book from them. "You three have been loud enough! I want you out of my library right now, or five points will be taken from Gryffindor!" Harriet, Ron, and Hermione didn't need any more motivation. They darted out of there as fast as they could and headed for the common room.
"See?" said Hermione, as they walked. "The dog must be guarding Flamel's Philosopher's Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it, that's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!"
"The question is," posed Harriet, "who is trying to steal it?"
"Are you serious?" demanded Ron. "I'll tell ya' who! Its Snape. I bet that greasy-old bat would love to get his hands on the Stone!"
"It isn't Snape," said Harriet tartly. "Trust me."
"He tried to jinx you!"
"He let the troll in the bathroom!"
Harriet cut off her friend's protests with a firm shake of her head. They quieted. The three entered the Great Hall and took their seats, waiting for Harriet to say something.
"Somebody else here is trying to get at the Stone," she said surely. "I don't know what Snape's been trying to do, but, if anything, he's trying to protect the Stone."
"You think?" Ron asked, trying not to sound as doubtful of his friend as he really was. It didn't work and Harriet laughed, then shrugged. She framed her next words carefully.
"Dumbledore trusts Snape," Harriet said carefully. "What if, when Snape went to look for the three-headed dog that night, he wasn't looking for the Stone-"
"But for the actual thief!" said Hermione excited. Her smiled darkened. "But Harriet, he tried to jinx you! Remember? At Quidditch. I saw him muttering words under his breath and not blinking because you need to maintain eye contact for jinxes!"
Ron looked as though he had come to realization, "Don't you need to maintain eye contact for counter jinxes, too?"
"Of course," wailed Hermione, obviously disappointed with herself for not making the connection. "How did I not see that before?" Ron awkwardly patted her on the back, not really sure how to comfort her.
"So we have two very different theories," said Hermione, once she had calmed herself down. "Which is right?"
"There isn't really any way to tell," Harriet grimaced. "So, for now, I guess we just wait and see."
Harriet Potter Hogwarts-February 13, 1992
The next day dawned bright and clear, but tensions were high because of the high stakes of the game. If Gryffindor won against Hufflepuff, they would take the lead for the House Cup, finally stealing it back from Slytherin for the first time in seven years.
Both Ron and Hermione were worried because Snape was refereeing, but Harriet honestly didn't know what to tell them to calm them down. They had not been as open to Harriet's "Snape is trying to save the Stone" theory as she had first believed.
Instead, she told them that she was playing to wipe the smirks off of the Slytherins' faces (she had nothing against the Hufflepuffs- they were quite nice, actually). If she didn't, she'd never live it down and she'd probably be exiled from Gryffindor.
If she was lucky...
Ron and Hermione had prepared valiantly to protect her from Snape (although they didn't tell Harriet that!). They'd been practicing the Leg-Locker Curse after seeing Malfoy using it on Neville.
"Now, don't forget, it's Locomotor Mortis," Hermione muttered as Ron slipped his wand up his sleeve.
"I know," Ron snapped. "Don't nag."
"The whole school is here," Neville said, as Ron and Hermione found a spot next to him in the bleachers. "Even Dumbledore!"
Ron and Hermione let out collective sighs of relief. Snape would never do anything with Dumbledore watching. Harriet would be safe. So, when the game started, both Ron and Hermione were completely focused on watching Harriet find the Snitch. At least, until-
"Ouch!" Ron whined as somebody poked him in the back of the head. Ron scowled and turned around, only to see Malfoy smirking at him. Hermione rolled her eyes and went back to the game, where Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff (a completely unfair) penalty. Ron, however, was beginning to get angry.
Malfoy began to speak quite loudly. "You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team? "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's living with a bunch'a lowlife scum, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money — you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."
Ron went to tell Malfoy off- Neville was always nice to them, after all, and lions stuck together!- but before he could, Neville spoke up. Blushing bright red with both anger and embarrassment he said, "I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy."
"You tell him, Neville," Ron muttered. He hadn't bothered to look away from the pitch, though, where Harriet was continuing to circle, looking for the snitch.
"Longbottom," Malfoy snorted, "If brains were gold, you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."
What little patience Ron had broke. He launched himself at Malfoy, tackling him to the ground. Neville hesitated, then joined in, ready to help one of his only friends. Hermione wasn't even paying attention, focused instead on the game, where Harriet had just gone into a dive, headed straight for Snape.
"Come on, Harriet!"
She missed him by inches. Snape turned only a moment before Harriet shot past him. Her hand was outstretched- then, she pulled out of the dive, her arm raised in triumph. She'd caught the snitch!
Everybody was in an uproar. It had to be a record, no one could ever remember the Snitch being caught so quickly.
Hermione was dancing up and down, hugging Parvati Patil, yelling "Ron! Ron! The game's over! Harriet's won! We've won! Gryffindor has the lead!"
Down on the pitch, Harriet was in shock. She hadn't expected to find the snitch that early on. Now Gryffindor had the lead. She saw Snape give her a barely perceptible nod of congratulations, then he went off to his Slytherins, no doubt to sulk a bit. He was surprisingly competitive when it came to Quidditch. Then again, most of the professors were.
Harriet was in her room later when Isaura came to find her. Everybody was downstairs celebrating, but Harriet had wanted a moment of quiet to herself so she could write to her parents. When Harriet saw Isaura slithering towards her, she picked her up and placed her on the desk. Isaura hissed.
"There isss trouble, pequininha."
"Trouble?
"I saw the Sssnape man speaking with the squirrel in the woods."
"You mean Quirrell?" Harriet said, after a moment. "What did he say?"
Isaura relayed their conversation- apparently Snape had wanted to meet Quirrell in the woods, privately, to discuss the sorcerer's stone. Snape was talking to Quirrell about "Hagrid'sss beassst" and whether or not Quirrel had found a way past it. The conversation ended with Snape threatening that Quirrell did not want him as an enemy and that Quirrell better learn where his loyalties lied.
Harriet was just digested this information when Hermione came running up the steps to the dorm. "Harriet! Where have you been? We won! You won! We won!"
Harriet was too worried to be excited. "Get Ron. Meet me in the boy's dorm."
With that, she slipped off her chair and went to Ron's room. Hermione followed with him a few minutes later. Ron was still giddy and gave Harriet a congratulatory thump on the back. "I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! He's still out cold but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be all right! Talk about showing Slytherin! Everyone's waiting for you in the common room, we're having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens."
"Never mind that now," said Harriet breathlessly. "Wait until you hear this."
She told them what Isaura had said, but made it seem as though she'd overheard it earlier while cleaning up her broom by the Quidditch pitch.
"So we were right, it is the Philosopher's Stone, and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it." Ron muttered to himself after Harriet had finished her story.
"Or," Harriet emphasized, "Quirrell is trying to steal the Stone and Snape is trying to stop him!" The looks that both Ron and Hermione gave her showed how disbelieving they were. And she couldn't blame them: she would be the same way if she were in their position.
"You think s-s-stuttering P-P-rofessor Q-Qu-Quirrell is trying to steal the Stone?" Hermione asked, in a tone that clearly stated the she was worried for her friend's mental health. "And you think that Snape-"
"-the meanest, darkest, scariest teacher in the whole school-" interjected Ron.
"-is trying to protect it?" Harriet opened her mouth to form an argument, but there honestly wasn't much she could say. She knew that everybody at the school had to believe that Snape hated her, but she hadn't realized how difficult it would be keeping her secret from her friends. Then again, she hadn't really imagined she would have gotten friends as good as Ron and Hermione.
"I don't get you, mate," Ron sighed. "Snape spends all his time in class belittling you and insulting you, but here you are defending him!"
"I'm not saying he's not a git," Harriet said quickly, "but I don't think we should assume that he's guilty just because we hate him and because he's mean. Besides, Snape is a Slytherin, right?" Harriet asked.
"Right," Ron and Hermione chorused.
"Well, they are supposed to be cunning aren't they?" Harriet asked again. When Ron and Hermione agreed, Harriet continued, "If Snape really was trying to steal the Stone, don't you think that he would try to be a little less obvious about it?"
"Thats true," Hermione admitted. "So you think Quirrell's stutter is just a front?" Harriet frowned.
"I don't know," Harriet frowned. "Maybe, maybe not."
"We've been too focused on Snape to pay any attention to Quirrell," Ron groused. He nodded firmly. "Alright, Operation The Man Underneath the Turban is a go!"
Both Harriet and Hermione gaped at him.
"What?" he asked them, turning bright red. "My dad made us watch this movie once called The Man Behind that Mask? I thought it was appropriate."
"I like it," Hermione encouraged.
"Alright," Harriet closed, "Tomorrow, we begin Operation The Man Underneath the Turban."
AN: Okay, this was a pretty fast update, but I figured I owed y'all one since I only updated once over break. That in mind, I'll probably go back to my old schedule now. I'll update about once a week or ever two weeks, depending on the workload at my school.
I got a decent amount of reviews telling me to keep posting, so I will. Thanks for the positive responses to this story. They make me smile, so keep on reviewing.
tinyrose65