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10. Christmas holidays
On the train home, Harry sits with Neville, Hermione, Ron, Blaize and Daphne and they play exploding snap and look at pictures in Neville's advanced Herbology book. The sky outside is bright and the fresh snow sparkles in the sunlight, and Harry is happier than he had ever been. He is going home, to his parents, to spend Christmas with his family and friends. He is not alone, not responsible for the survival of hundreds of people, not supposed to be anything other than what he wishes to become.
"I think I'll play professional Quiddich when I grow up." He declares.
"Yeah mate, we'll play for the Cannons together!" Ron replies.
Hermione mimes sticking two fingers down her throat and says that she would like to work for the ministry, and frowns at Blaize's disgusted expression.
"I'll marry a billionaire..." Daphne says dreamily.
Harry chokes, remembering the other world where, at the time when he left, she had been engaged to a guy who tried, unsuccessfully, to invent new spells, while working part time as Hagrid's right hand. He earned enough to live on, but Harry doubts his Gringotts vault was even slightly bigger than the Weasleys'.
"Hey, do you guys want to come over to my place on the 26th?" Lily said Christmas Day was reserved for family, but Harry supposes the 26th should be okay.
"Can't, we're going skiing. I'll be in France for two weeks." Hermione replies regretfully, while the others nod agreement and Daphne says:
"You're rich, aren't you?"
As they near the station Harry remembers Flamel and, in a whisper, bending forward so the Griffindors seated across the bench would hear, says:
"You know how that dog on the third floor was guarding something?" At the confused looks some of them give him, Harry realizes that not everyone had been present.
"Blaize, Hermione and I went into the third floor corridor by accident and we found a three headed dog there". He is hesitant to confide in Daphne, but he supposes it is alright. Everyone gasps and Ron says: "How come no one told me?"
And Hermione glares at Harry and mutters:
"I'm never opening locked doors ever again."
When they quiet down, Harry continues. He has been thinking about how to proceed, but in the end he decides to give Neville the chance to face Voldemort and to explain away his knowledge in some way eleven year olds can accept. He feels very much like Dumbledore in this moment, and it gives him the chills.
"So anyway, the dog was standing on this trapdoor thing and so I suppose it's guarding something, and I know what."
"How'd you know?"
"I thought no one else noticed the trapdoor."
"Maybe it's gold?"
"What if it's a secret passage?"
Harry shakes his head.
"You know how in September someone tried to rob Gringotts?"
They nod, but Ron looks confused and Neville asks: "Why would Dumbledore rob Gringotts?"
"He wouldn't. But he took something from the vaults because he knew someone would try to steal it."
They stare, and Hermione asks, doubtfully: "Harry, do you really think Hogwarts is a better place for something that Gringotts? And how would professor Dumbldore know if someone was going to rob Gringotts? And how do you know what they wanted to steal?"
Harry sighs, mentally cursing Hermione's intelligence and knack for asking questions.
"Firstly, Hogwarts IS safer than Gringotts even, secondly, Dumbledore is badass and knows everything, thirdly, I know 'cause I saw Dumbledore carrying it to the third floor corridor when I still had my cloak." He swallows, hoping the lie will pass unnoticed.
They are very quiet for a while, and then Neville asks:
"Why are you telling us?"
"'Cause you're my friends, and 'cause I think someone will try to steal the stone again, only they'll succeed this time, if we don't keep an eye on them."
"That's stupid, if Dumbledore's protecting it, it's safe. And what is it anyway?"
Harry thinks that yes, it is in fact safe, but that Neville should meet their, or his, Nemesis, as he replies:
"The philosopher's stone! Hagrid said it had something to do with Flamel when I asked him, and by the way, he also said the dog was called Fluffy." He'd made a point of pestering Hagrid for information, to the expected result.
There are gasps from Hermione and Daphne, and Blaize mouths an appalled: "Fluffy?!", but the others simply stare uncomprehendingly.
"What's a philosopher's stone?" Neville asks, sounding as if he is remembering something he's heard before. Harry is about to answer but Hermione beats him to it.
"It's a stone that turns objects to gold and helps produce an elixir of life that allows one to live forever. The only known working philosopher's stone was created by Nicholas Flamel, who is now many centuries old."
"Who'd want to steal it?"
"Who wouldn't?"
"Voldemort might."
Ron flinches and glowers at Harry and the others simply stare again.
"He's dead." Neville's voice is shaky but determined and his eyes are very cold as he speaks.
"He's not. Didn't you say your scar hurt?"
Neville gives Harry a betrayed look and turns away. "So? It doesn't mean You-Know-...V-Voldemort is alive!" He is clearly frightened, his face gone pale and his tone rising an octave.
The train stops and they jump.
"Look-" Harry says, talking quickly now: "I thought I'd tell you so during the holidays we could all think about who could be trying to steal the stone, it's not like I'm asking you to fight Voldemort." Yet.
They are still stunned and Harry chooses to leave the compartment, grabbing his trunk and stumbling into the corridor, and out onto the platform. It's filled with people, families reunited, and he looks around trying to locate his parents when the breath is knocked out of him as Athena barrages into him and raps her arms around him.
"Harry! I saw you first!" She gushes, and he is trying to extract himself from her grasp when he sees Lily, Sirius and Hannah walking towards him.
"Where's Dad?" He asks, and he knows he shouldn't worry but he cannot help himself.
"He's got work now, honey." Lily soothes, and, as Athena moves away, kisses him on the cheek. "Ready to go home?"
...
James comes home to the scent of burning candles and freshly baked cookies. It is dark and he is very tired, his robes hanging around him in loose folds, almost too heavy. They caught a death eater today, Webbings, and he was too stubborn to go to prison. James cast a stunner but the force of it sent Webbings over the bridge and down onto the ice. James can see the blood in his mind's eye, pooling around the Death Eater's head, the man's eyes staring up at him, so surprised. And no one judged. No one said James was wrong, or that he should have cast more carefully. That, in truth, is what scares James, not the fact that Death Eaters still prop up all over the country, or that last time one of the aurors nearly lost an eye, but that so few cared that Webbings died. James cared. He hated killing, and although it was inadvertent he blames himself. He said as much when he broke the news to Webbings's parents and younger brother, at which point that brother nearly punched him in the face. James ducked in time, auror training kicking in, and disapparated, but instead of going straight home he landed a mile away and walked, deep in thought.
As he opens the door he is greeted with the sound of rushing feet and Harry's smiling face and a loud: "Dad!" He ruffles the boy's hair and walks on into the kitchen, to kiss Lily.
He knows she can see something is wrong, and as she pours them tea and hands out the cookies she looks at him questioningly over Harry's head.
"Dad, is it ok if I invited a bunch of people to come over on the 26th?"
"Sure. Unless...you didn't invite Malfoy, did you?"
He is relieved when Harry shakes his head with a look that says "Duh." He can accept Harry as a Slytherin, but he will not have a Death Eaters' son in his home.
"So, how is school? Have you got competition?"
They both know what he is asking about and Harry grins, while Lily frowns and pretends not to listen.
"Well, there are the Weasley twins, Fred and George, they're Ron's brothers, I think I've mentioned them, but anyway they found your old map and at first I thought we'd be like rivals but we mostly prank together now. You should have seen their faces when I told them I knew the Marauders!"
James can't help feeling proud, proud of his son and of the heritage he himself left. He determines to remember to mention this to Moony and Padfoot. They'll be happy, if a touch sheepish.
"By the way, dad, did you know Blaize's father helped invent the Wolfsbane potion?"
"No. But I bet Remus knows."
They told Harry about Remus's furry little problem as soon as they deemed him old enough to keep a secret, and six year old Harry had looked at them, at Remus, and asked if he could help. They had all sighed with relief, although James had not doubted Harry for a second, and Remus had taken Harry in his arms and hugged him and whispered "Thank you".
When they finish the tea, Lily says:
"Time for bed now. You can read for a bit before sleep."
Harry starts to protest, something like surprise flickering across his face.
"I don't care if you went to bed at 3 in the morning at Hogwarts, here, I decide when you have to sleep, so if you want to get that cloak back you better hurry up."
Harry groans and stalks out, and they all know he will not do as Lily said. James wonders if there's any point in punishing him, but he imagines Harry won't even get caught. He supposes that's good.
….
In the morning of the 26th Ron wakes up a second before his mother raps on the door. He yawns and stretches and makes a face at the Chudley Canons poster, asking for sympathy. He feels, as always, that it is too early to be getting up, and all his energy is reserved for Hogwarts, not home.
He eats the delicious breakfast and reads the back of his father's newspaper and races Ginny up the stairs. She wanted to come with him, to meet Neville, but he decided that his friends could do without her crush on the boy-who-lived.
As he steps through the flames and comes out into a large sitting room he is gripped again with the familiar envy, the determination that whatever else happens in his life, he will not be poor. The Potters' sitting room is beige, sofas forming a square around a glass table, photos and pictures hanging from the walls, and a VT, or no, TV, standing by the wall. He stares at it reverently, coming closer to look at the buttons and antennae.
"Hi Ron", Harry says.
He turns around and sees him in the doorway, with Blaize standing next to him, saying:
"I was surprised too, I had no idea what it is. Wait for Harry to turn it on, it's like, I don't know, muggles are scary!"
Harry takes something from the table and pushes a button, and the TV comes to life, tiny people moving across the screen, a woman shouting something.
"You can't often get a signal with all the magic about, so it's mainly for watching films." Harry explains.
Ron stares at him, at the TV and whispers, awed:
"How can muggles do something like this?"
Harry smiles:
"They've also been to the moon and have machines that can look inside your body at your bones and see what's wrong."
Ron drops down on one of the sofas, trying to wrap his head around the fact. Unlike many pureblood families the Weasleys do not hate or despise muggles, but apart from Arthur and the twins they look down on them, and Ron has always believed, without giving it much thought, that muggles were somehow weaker, lesser people, incapable of the things that wizards did.
"I think you broke him", Blaize says, when there's a flash of green flames and Neville enters the room. And looks at the TV.
When they are all there Harry takes them on a tour of the house and grounds, including the Quiddich pitch he and his father made several years ago. That provokes a game and, as James happens to be home, they divide into teams of three - Harry, Neville and Blaize on one team, Ron, Daphne and James on the other. Daphne and Neville don't like Quiddich much, so they go to sit on the ground after ten minutes. After an hour, Ron scores the last winning goal. He supposes it's not fair when James is one of the best chasers in the history of Hogwarts, but he can't bring himself to care.
A while later, they are in Harry's room. There's a portrait of a stern man on the wall and the curtains are silver and green but apart from that, Ron feels that this room is perfect. Harry has opened a notebook and is showing them a list of teachers, Quirrell at the top. He is talking excitedly, pointing out that Quirrell is suspicious.
"Oh stop that, will you? If we're looking for someone suspicious, then no offense, but Snape wins first prize."
"He does not!"
"Does too. Have you seen him?"
"I'm scared of him." Neville mumbles.
"Exactly." Harry looks smug. "This means he can't be trying to steal the stone because if we think he's suspicious Dumbledore definitely thought so when he hired him."
"He's a Death Eater!" Ron exclaims.
"So? He confessed, and now he's good." Harry sounds obstinate, but Ron can see that his words sound silly even to Blaize and Daphne.
"Harry..." Daphne begins: "I wouldn't go so far as to say he's good. He talks to Lucius Malfoy, and to Theodore Nott's family."
"And yours." Neville says. Daphne blushes and looks down and Blaize glares at him, and Ron's thinks that this is getting out of hand. On second thought, Neville has a point. He is about to say as much when Harry intervenes:
"Let's not blame people for what their parents did or didn't do." He looks almost angry and Ron wonders why. And voice at the back of his head is whispering that maybe, Harry is turning Slytherin, and Ron is fighting hard to ignore it.
"Let's talk about something else." Neville says, and, grudgingly, they switch topics. Harry ruffles through his collection of films and pulls out a cassette of something called "the terminator".
"Let's watch this." He offers, and they run down the stairs and a minute later they are lost in the movie, and Ron thinks this is the most incredible thing he has ever seen in his entire life.
...
At the airport Hermione wishes she could have stayed longer. She loves Hogwarts, but skiing was more fun than she expected, and the history of the French wizarding world fascinates her. On the other hand, she is eager to find out what the others think about the philosophers stone. She hasn't reached a conclusion, but Harry's explanation sounded odd, and she cannot shake the feeling that he is hiding something. She thinks of his grades, of the annoying way he writes tests excellently without studying much, of the way he seems to know things that no one else does. She tries to tell herself it is not true, that she is imagining the way professor Dumbledore's probing gaze seems so often drawn to Harry and the way Harry doesn't really go into detail about that very brave friend of his mothers. She hopes she is wrong, hopes, because Harry is good, and she knows it, and she does not want to be mistaken.
They board the plane and she sits between her parents, her mother pestering her once again about her schoolwork. During the holidays Hermione grew to realize that in the space of four months she has become distant from them, and that she will only become more different. Her world is not theirs, but the colorful magical one, one filled with secret passages and cloaked wizards and the persistent fear of Voldemort that she has yet to develop but that is always present at the mention of You-Know-Who. She loves that world, loves it for accepting her and for giving her friends, for providing an escape from the mundane school she used to attend, where she was an outcast.
Her parents have not yet grasped that they lost they daughter when she got her letter, but Hermione knows from talking to Madame Pince that only a few muggleborns stay close to their families. From Harry's words, his mother is one of them, but Hermione, though loving her parents, feels they do not understand her.
"Perhaps that'll change in the summer." She thinks, as the plane takes off. She hopes it will, because she knows it will hurt them, and knows, not unlike Harry, the muggle world has much to offer.