Chris P. Gardener
(Disclaimer:
All of the characters and things in this story belong to J. K. Rowling except
for Chris and Norton. Oh, I own the bell too.)
(A/N:
This is Harry's 6th year, and my first fic. If you think this is a
little farfetched, just go with me, okay? I hope you like it!)
Harry joined Ron and Hermione at the
Gryffindor table for breakfast. Then they all looked up at the rush of owls
delivering messages. Harry wasn't expecting any letters because Hedwig, Harry's
owl, was safely in the Hogwarts Owlery. However, a tiny owl, about the size of
Ron's owl, Pigwidgeon, soared down to Harry and dropped a letter, and then
perched on Harry's golden plate picking at Harry's bread. Harry anxiously
unfolded the letter with Hermione and Ron peering over his shoulder.
Dear Harry Potter,
Hello.
My name is- well, are you the son of James and Lily Potter? If you are, please
send Erma, my owl, back to me with a response. If you are their son, I have
something important to tell you.
From
Chris P. Gardener
"Um…. who's Chris?" asked Harry.
"I don't know. Why don't you ask when you
reply?" suggested Ron.
"You can't reply! Must I remind you that
You-Know-Who is after you? I mean random people don't just send you letters
about your parents-" Hermione was cut off.
"Chris said he had something important to tell
me," said Harry.
"You don't even know who Chris is!"
exclaimed Hermione.
"That's why I'm going to ask him when I reply
'yes'," said Harry aggravated. He stormed off with the letter, forgetting
about breakfast and leaving Erma alone with Hermione at the table.
* * * * * * *
"Navy flower," Harry grunted
the password to the Fat Lady portrait.
"What's bugging you?" asked
the Fat Lady swinging open and revealing the entrance to the Gryffindor common
room.
Harry went in and climbed the stairs
to the boy's dormitory. It was empty; everyone was at breakfast. Harry grabbed a
quill and a piece of parchment from his bag, and then marched back down to the
common room determined to write the letter.
Ron walked in as Harry sat down. Then
Ron joined Harry on the couch and looked at the letter Harry was writing.
Dear Chris,
Harry paused. "What am I supposed
to say? 'Yeah, I'm their son, by the way they're dead'?"
Harry and Ron both gave tiny chuckles,
and then Ron spoke more seriously. "Harry, maybe he already knows that
they're dead. I mean, doesn't everyone know about the story of You-Know-Who
killing everyone but you?"
Harry pondered this for a minute, and
then started to wonder why he wasn't getting touchy about his parents' death
now that it had been brought up. "Well, I guess I've never thought about
them much other than the times I relived their death," he thought, but
then he turned back to Ron. "Well, what should I write then?"
"Maybe you should just tell him
who you are and ask who he is," suggested Ron.
The boys attempted many letters until
they were surrounded in crumpled pieces of parchment.
"This shouldn't be that
hard!" exclaimed Harry as he ripped another paper in half. "If
Hermione hadn't stuck her nose into this, we wouldn't be so worried about
telling Chris too much!"
Just then, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan
walked into the common room leading the rest of the Gryffindors. Breakfast was
over and everyone needed to get ready for the long day. The common room filled
up, and Billy Armstrong walked over to the couch where Harry and Ron were
seated.
"Hello, Harry!" squeaked
Billy, holding something under his arm. He was a first year, picked by the
sorting hat just a week before. He idolized Harry, but Harry thought Billy was
just a more annoying Dobby.
"Hi, Billy," groaned Harry.
"Harry, guess what!" Billy removed
what was under his arm. "It's a new poster of you and the Goblet of Fire!
My mom just sent it to me! It took three whole owls to carry it!" Billy
showed Harry and Ron the poster.
Harry looked up at it. "Geez, I
look stupid," he thought.
"Isn't it neat?" asked
Billy.
"Yeah, sure," sighed Harry.
His picture was now waving back at him. "Look Billy, Ron and I have a lot
of work to do right now."
"Okay dokie!" said Billy. He
went over to one of the tables where other first years were sitting and begin
to show off his poster.
Then Hermione walked in. She looked at
the boys with disgust and then went over to their couch. "So, I see you've
still decided to write the letter. Why don't you just listen to me? You're only
hurting yourself!"
Hermione made Harry so angry that he
quickly scribbled down
Dear Chris,
Yes
I am Harry Potter, the son of Lily and James. Who are you?
From
Harry Potter
on
a piece of parchment and marched over to the exit of the common room. Then he
turned back to Hermione. "Where's Erma?"
"She's in the Owlery,"
Hermione replied. "But Harry, don't danger yourself," she pleaded.
Harry ignored her and went to the
Owlery to send the letter.
* * * * * * *
Over the next couple of days, Hermione
refused to speak to Harry or Ron. The boys refused to talk to her also.
Every morning since Harry sent the
letter, he eagerly looked up into the owl swarm to find Erma. Finally he
spotted her.
Dear Harry Potter,
Please
read this alone-
Harry left his breakfast and told Ron
to go to the common room with him. Then he continued to read.
-This may sound weird, but I'm your
brother. I was seven when Voldemort killed our parents-
(A/N:
Did you like it? If so, please tell me so in a review! If not, please don't
flame me, this was my first fic. You can give me suggestions though, through a
review. So…. REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!)