Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. This is a work of fiction and is for entertainment only. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 12
Harry apparated directly to the little country lane outside of Godric's Hollow. He pulled his coat closer against the cold evening. I don't understand why I am doing this, he thought. Mark may not even be at the church. He may be at home and I don't know where he lives. He almost turned around and went home but something drove him on. He had to know for himself. There was something odd about Mark.
He stopped in at the second of the two pubs he and Hermione had seen and had a bite to eat. He had a table next to a window and, just as he was finishing, he looked out to see Mark Vollander, walking away from the direction of the church. He quickly put muggle money on the table and rushed to the door.
"Mark!" he called. Mark stopped and looked in his direction. When he saw who had yelled for him his eyes widened in surprise and then he smiled. Harry walked toward him and the two shook hands.
"Surprised me Harry. I had hoped to see you again but didn't imagine it would be so soon," Mark said.
"Well, I didn't actually plan it myself, it just seemed the right thing to do today for some reason," Harry said. "I have a theory about something. Will you come over here with me for a minute please? I want to try something," Harry continued as he walked toward the war memorial.
"Sure," Mark replied with a curious look on his face. The two arrived at the memorial and Harry stood very close to Mark. The priest gasped. "Harry, do you see that? It... it changed. It's a statue! A man, a woman, and a baby! What is going on? Oh wait," he said and visibly relaxed. "I get it - you called Cassie and you guys set up a camera somewhere to mess me about," he said laughingly as he began to look around for a camera.
"That's not it Mark. Really. Could we go back to your office? We need to talk," Harry said quietly.
"Should I call Cassie and tell her I'll be late?" he asked.
"That might be wise," Harry said.
The two men walked back to the little church and through the back door to where Mark had his office. Mark called Cassie and told her that he needed to chat with someone and would be home later. When he rang off he asked, "Biscuit Harry?" and held out a tin.
"No thanks," Harry replied. "I'm sorry to interrupt your dinner hour."
"It's okay," Mark said. "That's why I keep the biscuits here. Now don't keep me waiting any longer. What happened out there?"
Harry looked deeply into Mark's eyes. He wondered if he could really trust this man. But then, he was a priest, wasn't he? Weren't they supposed to keep secrets? Finally Harry decided to speak. He could always do a memory charm if things went awry. "Okay Mark. I will tell you, but you must understand that you must keep this secret as if I were in a confessional. If you tell anyone, and I mean anyone, I could be imprisoned."
"Imprisoned!" Mark said. "What in the world are you talking about? What is this all about?" Mark asked with fear beginning to creep into his voice. After all, he didn't know Harry at all really.
Harry took his customary deep breath, held it a moment, let it out and said, "Mark, I am a wizard."
To his amazement, Mark's face changed from puzzlement to surprise and he burst out laughing. "Oh no! Not you too," he said. "Did Cassie put you up to this?"
"No Mark. I haven't seen or spoken with Cassie since Sunday at lunch. Why do you think she and I would play a trick on you?" Harry asked.
Mark just continued to smile. "Okay Harry. I'll tell you. Before Cassie and I moved to this parish, we had heard rumors, from my own family, about Godric's Hollow. My great-great grandfather lived here many years ago and is even buried in the churchyard. He was supposed to have been a most unusual man, able to mix up funny concoctions that healed injuries extremely quickly and also able to get from one place to another with more speed than anyone could imagine. Then, since we've lived here, we've both been told stories of unusual things on more than one occasion, and legends that witches once lived in the forests nearby. It's just village legend, and I hear from other priests in these small parishes that it is quite common. Cassie is always messing me about with my tales of the memorial. She must be involved in this in some way, yeah?" he finished.
"No, Mark. I promise you that Cassie is not involved in any of this I am truly a wizard and it sounds as though your great-great grandfather was too. Must have been some sort of potions master, what with the stories of healings. Look, I know that this is hard for you to believe. I remember the first time I was told of it. I didn't believe it at all," Harry said, as he thought about that first meeting with Hagrid.
"Hard to believe?" Mark questioned. "It's impossible. There are no such things as witches and wizards Harry. Everyone knows that. Is there someone I can call to come and get you? Hermione perhaps?" Mark asked, with real concern in his voice. This young man must be deeply troubled, he thought to himself.
Harry smiled to try to remove Mark's fear. He thought of a memory he had seen in Dumbledore's pensieve during his sixth year at Hogwarts. I really don't want to do this, he thought, but he may not believe any other way. Harry looked to his right. A metal filing cabinet stood there with loads of books and papers on top. "Mark," Harry said calmly, "I am going to show you that I am a wizard. Don't yell. I will stop this in a minute."
Then Harry turned, took out his wand, and pointed it at the filing cabinet. "Incendio," he murmured. Instantly, the filing cabinet burst into flame. Mark's eyes opened wide and he started to scramble to get out of the office since he was now more frightened than he had ever been in his life.
"Wait!" Harry yelled. He shut the door with another quick wave of his wand, looked back at the filing cabinet and murmured, "reducio." Instantly the size of the flames grew smaller. "Aguamenti," he said, and poured water over the remaining flames. Then, with a final wave of his wand, he dried everything and all was as it had been before he started.
Harry looked back toward Mark. He had fallen down into his chair, his mouth agape and his eyes so far open they looked as though they might pop. "Mark," Harry said, "say something. Please."
