Chapter 12—Old Friends
Disclaimer: I own only Josephine Clearwater, and a few other odds and ends. All else belongs to J.K. Rowling. This story is not for profit, and the only reward I get is the smile on my face when you review (so please do so!).
Harry spent the rest of the day working on his bedside cabinet. Around eight-ish he went out to Ottery St. Catchpole to do some grocery shopping now that he had a working refrigerator to keep things in. After dinner he worked on the cabinet until the early hours of the morning. It was about dawn when he finally finished and fell asleep on top of his work.
When he woke up again, it was midday. He pulled some cold chicken out of his refrigerator and reheated it for breakfast. He looked at his handiwork as he ate and he was fairly pleased. It looked pretty good. A coat of stain and it should be about done. By mid-afternoon he had covered the cabinet with a nice varnish, and his last major home project (for the time being) was complete. True, he didn't have a table or chairs yet, but those would come along eventually. He didn't feel like doing anymore building at the moment.
He put on a warm cloak and picked up his broom. He was going to the cemetery. It was a long, long flight, but he didn't mind.
It'd been a while since he'd been to the cemetery where his parents were buried. The cemetery where Sirius's memorial stone was, next to his father's. He'd go today and contemplate life a little. Life and death went hand in hand more often than not, after all.
It was dark and chilly by the time Harry left the cemetery, but he didn't mind. He walked into Hogsmeade; the cemetery was just outside it. He wondered how he could have been so close all those years, and nobody had ever bothered to tell him where his parents' final resting place was until he was seventeen. They probably thought they were protecting him. But they weren't. Harry found he felt himself more peaceful whenever he came back from talking to his parents in the cemetery. Sure they weren't there to answer back, but he almost felt as if they were listening at least.
He pulled the hood of his cloak up to attract as little attention as possible and just kept walking through the town. He had half a mind to visit Honeydukes and use the secret entrance into Hogwarts. He toyed with the idea. With the approaching holiday season, the candy store was crowded with patrons who wanted to buy candy canes and chocolates. With a grin, he slipped into the store.
Without much difficulty he slipped into the back and went down to the cellar. Hidden under a layer of dust and some boxes was the trapdoor entrance he remembered. He opened it just enough so slide out of sight as he heard footsteps. He stayed there at the end of the tunnel for a moment, grinning to himself. It felt as though he was thirteen years old again.
Thinking of Fred, George, Moony, Padfoot, Prongs, and even Wormtail, he continued through the tunnel. It didn't seem as long as it used to. Soon, he found himself at the far end. He wished he had the map to know if anyone was in the hallway, but decided he must just make do with his ears. It didn't sound like there was anyone out there. No voices. No footsteps. Deciding the coast was clear he climbed out slowly. No sooner had his feet hit the ground, than he heard a voice behind him.
"Going somewhere?"
Harry froze, his back still turned to the speaker. Who'd caught him?
"As a Prefect, it'll be my duty to report you to the Headmaster. And to your Head of House of course. Turn around. Let me see your face, troublemaker."
Harry relaxed. It was only a student. For a moment he'd had the horrible feeling it was McGonagall. He turned around and drew himself up to his full height. He almost laughed when he saw the student behind him.
The girl couldn't have been older than fifteen and had a very shiny Prefect badge pinned to the front of her robes. She had a self-righteous I'm-punishing-you-for-your-own-good look on her face. The kind of look he often remembered seeing on Percy Weasley's face.
He looked at her with a charming smile. "You were saying?"
The girl seemed unable to talk for a moment, staring at him.
"What's your name?"
"Grassgreen. I mean, Silvia. Silvia Greengrass. I know who you are."
"Do you?"
"I'd know you anywhere, even without my cousin's description. You used to come into her club a lot with Hermione Granger, Ron and Ginny Weasley, and some other people. You're Harry Potter. You defeated…well you know who you defeated, and you've been a Quidditch star the last two years, and—"
"And now I'm here to visit an old friend. Say, you don't have to take me to Dumbledore do you?"
"I suppose not…since it's you," she blushed, staring at him.
"Where is everybody right now?"
"At dinner."
"Good. The Headmaster likes surprises." Harry got a gleam in his eye. "He'll be glad to see me. But don't tell him I'm here. Just go on back to dinner like nothing's wrong." He gave her a cheery wink.
"I could help you find his office if you'd like," she offered.
"No thanks. I know where it is."
"My cousin said you haven't been coming by her club much anymore."
"I've been staying out of the nightlife. I'm not much of a dancer. Two left feet."
Silvia didn't look as though she was going to believe that.
"Why don't you get back to dinner? Maybe we'll run into each other before I leave."
Silvia smiled at him and started off back toward the Great Hall for dinner. "Wait, Silvia. It's not just Dumbledore; don't tell anyone you've seen me."
She nodded, smiling, and left.
Throwing his broom up over his shoulder, Harry started off toward the Headmaster's office. To most, the halls might seem eerily empty, but to Harry, he felt like he was finally home again. Home like he hadn't been in years. Hogwarts was the first home he could ever remember having where he was loved. He spent seven of the best years of his life there. And now he was back. He wondered if he might stay a while. There was probably still a bed in hospital wing with his name on it after all the time he spent there.
He considered going up and visiting Gryffindor Tower, seeing the old common room again, but the Fat Lady would never allow a soul in without the password, even Harry Potter. If he ran into Nearly-Headless-Nick, Nick would give it to him if he knew it.
It wasn't long before he reached the gargoyle that led to the Headmaster's office. He started shooting off attempts at the password. "Fizzing Wizbee. Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans. Droobles Best-Blowing Bubblegum. Peppermint Imps. Lemon Drop. Chocolate Frogs." He tried to think of more candies.
"Might I suggest Ton Tongue Toffees?" offered a curt voice behind him.
Harry knew that voice anywhere. He turned and was face-to-face with his old Head of House. She hadn't changed since the day he met her. Maybe a few more lines here or there, and hair a shade lighter, but beyond that, she looked the same. "Professor," he breathed in surprise.
"Are you going to stand there all day, young man?"
Harry smiled and went McGonagall and gave her a one armed hug as he was still holding his broom in the other hand. "How have you been, Professor McGonagall?"
"I've been fine. You've been well? I heard you've ended your Quidditch career. News hasn't quite reached some of the students yet though."
"Yes. The world of professional sports was too stressful for me. I'm actually taking up journalism."
"Really?" she seemed somewhat surprised. "After all the trouble that journalists have caused you?"
"I know, but it's something to do. And it's relaxing."
"I suppose that's all right then. Is it too far beyond you to apply for a teaching job?"
"A teaching job?"
"Yes. Our potions professor is only temporary. We've had difficulty filling the position. Speak with the headmaster about it. I assume that's why you're here?"
"Yes. I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by."
"I have a Prefects' meeting to attend. Very good seeing you."
"You too, Professor."
McGonagall was just walking off in the direction of her office when Harry asked, on impulse, "Professor? What's the Gryffindor password?"
She smiled, a rare thing. "At present, I believe it is…Chuddley Cannons. Good evening, Mr. Potter." She turned and walked away.
"Well how do you like that," muttered Harry. Chuddley Cannons! He turned to face the gargoyle again, now armed with the Headmaster's password. "Ton Tongue Toffees," he said defiantly to the gargoyle.
He was almost sure the gargoyle smirked at him before moving aside to let him through. He went up the old steps and threw the door at the top. As expected, the only occupant in the room was Fawkes.
The bird, which had been tearing at a scrap of parchment with its beak, recognized him at once and flew to him from the desk.
Harry stroked the gorgeous phoenix and it made contented sounds. With a look around the cluttered office and a cheery wave at the portraits pretending to snooze, Harry sat back in Dumbledore's chair and put his feet on the desk, keeping Fawkes on his shoulder. He sat, eyes half closed, listening to Fawkes's song.
And that was precisely how Dumbledore found him, not five minutes later.
"Yes, that chair is rather comfortable, isn't it?" asked Dumbledore pleasantly.
Harry opened one eye lazily as Fawkes flew from his shoulder to the old man's. "Good evening. Had a nice dinner, I presume?"
"Yes, it was quite enjoyable. Remarkable. You never cease to amaze me."
"And how is that?" Harry asked, sitting up in the chair and taking his feet off the desk.
"I would have thought the novelty of you unemployment would have worn off by now and you'd have come in three days ago to tell me about a new job. I read Miss Clearwater's article on you in the Prophet about a week ago."
"I am finding unemployment rather dull now that you mention it."
"Indeed?" he asked. There was a twinkle in Dumbledore's eye and a quizzical tone in his voice.
"Yes, no need to sound so smug, old friend. Here I am, resigned to spend my days and nights with nothing to do. There are only so many home improvement projects a person can do and only so many people to see and have lunch with."
"I told you when you graduated, Harry; there will always be work for you here."
"I know. It feels good to be back. It feels right to be back. But I don't know. I just spent most of the week tidying up and fixing up my new place. It'd be a shame to leave it after all that work. I'll write for the Quibbler for a while, I think. I'm taking over Luna's column about the whereabouts of Severus Snape."
"Keep in mind, Pureblood families are always looking for tutors for their children under eleven years old. Some families have two working parents and no one to stay home and teach the children to read and write, or learn their arithmetic. And some just plain don't feel like teaching the children themselves and don't want to put their children in a Muggle school."
"I'll look into that," Harry said, not sure whether or not he would. It wasn't a bad idea actually.
"What brings you here?" Dumbledore finally sat down in the chair in front of his desk.
"I was in the neighborhood," he said absently.
"Indeed."
There was a pause. "Professor, why didn't you ever tell me until after Hogwarts about where they were?" There was no need to specify who "they" was.
"Had I told you in your first or second year, you would have undoubtedly found some way to leave the grounds and go searching for them on your own. It wouldn't have been safe. And then third year, I thought about telling you, but I was so relieved when you came to school without your guardian's consent to the village trips that I deemed it unnecessary. I thought, surely you wouldn't leave the grounds and go, not with Sirius Black chasing you. How wrong I was," Dumbledore spoke softly, sadly.
"What about fourth year? What about fifth year? What about sixth? Or even the beginning of seventh? You could have told me at any time, Professor. But you didn't. You waited until I was almost gone. You could have taken me yourself at any time; I would have been safe."
"Harry…your fourth year, so much was uncertain. I couldn't say anything; I didn't want to hurt you. In fifth year, I distanced myself from you; you know why. After that, it was too late. I didn't know how you'd react the information I'd been concealing and I didn't want to hurt you anymore, Harry. I'm sorry."
"What hurt was that you knew they were there the whole time. That's seven more years than I needed to miss them. It would have helped."
"You could have known sooner. Sirius wanted to be with your parents."
"I was too upset to have a service for him. You know that. I didn't want to think about things at all that summer. I just wanted to forget."
"Forgetting isn't easy, Harry," he said gently. "I know. I have a long memory."
"I know. I wanted to forget. I tried so hard and I couldn't. I still haven't. But time has helped some." He leaned forward on the desk, head in his hands. "When you showed me where they were, the first thing I said was that the blank space by them needed a headstone for him."
"I remember. I helped you pick it out."
"I have to put new flowers on soon. The old ones are starting to die."
"Harry, it is winter. In winter, the natural world allows everything die, to sleep for a while so everything can come back with renewed strength and life."
"Not everything comes back, Professor. Not everything comes back." Harry stared at the painting of Phineas, behind the headmaster.
Phineas, probably noticing the stare and not really being asleep in the first place said, "The house is quiet now. The only person there to talk to is that painting of Sirius's mother. Merlin knows I'm sick of listening to her." He promptly went back to sleep.
"I was at the cemetery today, talking with them."
"I surmised as much."
"The hurt never goes away completely, does it, sir?" he asked, feeling as though he were eleven years old again and speaking to his mentor.
"No, Harry, it doesn't. I miss your parents. I miss Sirius. I miss the Longbottoms. I miss Abner Lovegood. I miss Severus. Gideon and Fabian Prewett. I miss so many of them. So many taken too young; so many young lives ruined." The Headmaster closed his eyes for a moment.
"Is Snape dead then?"
"No, Harry. As far as I can tell, the man still lives somewhere. I don't know where, but somewhere on this lonely planet, he still breathes and trudges the earth. He's a man that won't be found if he doesn't wish to be."
Harry sighed. So many lives ruined.
"Are you hungry?"
"A little."
"Cookies and milk?"
"Sounds delicious. Double chocolate are my favorite."
"Mine too. Dobby should be by any moment now to see if I need anything for the night." The old man smiled, carrying Fawkes back to his perch and refilling his water dish with his wand.
It wasn't long before Dobby did show up. "Headmaster Dumbledore sir! Do you need anything? Sorry, Headmaster Dumbledore sir, Dobby dids not see you had guest, sir." Then Dobby caught sight of just who the guest was. He ran at Harry and hugged him around the knee. "Harry Potter sir! Dobby has not seen you in the longest time. How have you been, Harry Potter?"
"Just fine, Dobby. I'm doing alright."
"Do you need anything, sirs?"
"Double-chocolate cookies, Dobby, and two glasses of milk," Harry said, with a grin.
"With white chocolate chips?" Dobby asked, bobbing his head.
"Thanks, Dobby."
"Dobby will be right back, sirs!" He vanished with a loud crack.
"Just where have you hidden yourself away this time, Harry? Hmm? This makes almost a half dozen moves since leaving Hogwarts, I believe."
"Almost. But this time, I'm staying in one place. I think I'll be very happy where I am. A new start in an old place."
"Really? And just where are you staying?"
"With very old friends."
"I wasn't aware that you knew anyone older than me," Dumbledore laughed.
Dobby returned with a large plate of cookies and two glasses of milk.
"Thanks, Dobby."
"You're very welcome, sirs! Dobby has some work to do, sirs." Dobby disappeared with a loud crack.
"You were saying?" Dumbledore started munching on the plate of cookies.
"I'm staying with people who have always been very kind to me. I'm really happy there. I probably ought to be going." He took a bite of double chocolate cookie and a large sip of milk, resulting in a milk mustache.
"It is getting a trifle late. I don't suppose you're going to leave without saying goodbye to Hagrid."
"No, I'm going to go see him now. It was great talking to you, Professor."
"You too, Harry. Don't be a stranger."
"I never am." He picked up another cookie. "One more for the road." With a wave, he picked up his broom and walked out the door. He hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. Where to go first: Hagrid's or the common room? He opted for Hagrid's and walked through the school and out the Great Hall doors. He crossed the familiar grounds and at last arrived at Hagrid's hut near the forest.
Harry knocked on the door with his broom a few times. He heard the scrape of a large chair against the floor and footsteps coming toward him.
"Comin', I'm comin'," boomed Hagrid's voice.
Harry stood there and the door opened to reveal Hagrid, looking the same as always, standing before him.
"Who's there? 'Arry! Arry, 'ow are yeh, boy? Lookin' more an' more like yer dad ev'ry day, yeh are. I haven't seen yeh in ages. Come in'!" With a bone-crushing hug, Hagrid brought Harry inside.
"It's good to see you, Hagrid."
"Good ter see yeh too, Harry, good ter see yeh too. Would yeh like a cup o' tea?"
"Sure, why not?" Harry asked, sitting at the large table.
"How've yeh been?"
"I'm doing alright. And you?" He looked around for Hagrid's old dog. Normally Fang would have been jumping all over him by now.
"I'm gettin' through. It's been lonely, this last week. Fang died on Monday." He sniffled at the memory of his beloved boarhound.
"Hagrid, I'm so sorry. I had no idea."
"It's alright. I…I miss 'im, is all. Fang was a good dog, good friend."
Harry patted Hagrid on the shoulder consolingly.
"How's yer Quidditch goin'?"
"I quit. I left Ginny Weasley to take my place on the team. I'm done being famous."
Hagrid nodded knowingly. "I thought it might not last too long. Yeh never were the sort ter like attention very much. Is there summat goin' on between Ginny an' you? Yeh two were startin' ter get close in yer last year here."
Harry smiled. "No, Hagrid, nothing between us."
"Yeh looked kinda close at Ron and Hermione's weddin' not long back." He wiggled his eyebrows and Harry had to stifle his laughter.
"Gin is just a friend. I've got a lot of girl friends, Hagrid. Ginny, Luna, Josephine, and even Daphne Greengrass a little bit."
"Yeh'll find the girl for yeh sooner 'r later, 'Arry."
"Thanks, Hagrid. I'm not looking very hard right now. Just taking some me time. So, tell me. Do you have a good batch of students this year? We didn't get to talk much at the wedding."
Hagrid and Harry talked for a while, reminiscing on old things and catching up on new things.
Eventually, it got late enough that Harry figured he ought to go. Hagrid had an early class to teach in the morning.
Harry debated whether to visit Gryffindor Tower as he planned or not and decided against it. The kids ought to be asleep by now. Then again, a good number of them would still be up, finishing homework or chatting. Harry said goodbye and flew to Hogsmeade, Apparating from there to his room.
