Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and Co. J.K. Rowling does.
Summary: After one very eventful night ten years ago, Voldemort was destroyed and Harry disappeared. Where did he go? What happened that night? Only one man knows the answer: a teacher named James, aka Harry. But what will he do now that he has faced the two people who were once his best friends?
Author's note: Gaa! I am so deeply sorry for how long it has taken me to post. My life sorta...crumbled. But everything is up and running now, so you can expect updates much more regularly.
Chapter 17: Letters and a Reprimand
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Peter's éclairs proved to be a hit. Everyone at the wedding loved them, and there were even a few remarks that éclairs could one day be more common at weddings than wedding cakes. Peter, though, didn't share this bit of information with Jacob, Sarah, Emma, and James, partly because he feared the physical abuse he would suffer when the others realize they might be stuck making éclairs for the rest of their lives, and partly because he didn't want Emma to get too excited and start making chocolate sauce.
Several days had passed and James finally got a reply from the Westins. James immediately opened the letter as soon as he saw where it had come from.
"Dear James,
"We are so sorry about your troubles. We wish there was something more we could do. Though it is a good thing the Ministry didn't recognize you or put a memory charm on you. It's a shame your friends didn't believe you. That would have given you a chance to finally be out in the open and not so secretive.
"Paul and I both wish you weren't so paranoid over your identity. We want you to be happy, dear. Not suffering anxiety attacks because someone might uncover the real you that has been hidden beneath all those tales. Paul is shaking his head while I write this letter. He doesn't agree. He thinks that although it would be better if you could be the real you, it is still perfectly acceptable to want to create a new life for yourself. And he says that in your situation and being who you are, he would want to live as a non-magical person with no connection to his past, too.
"Oh, well, it's your life, and we both agree that you've done excellently. You're our favorite client, and we're proud of all you've done for yourself in the last several years. We miss you very much. It was so much fun when we went with you to Italy three years ago. We had a great time.
"Which leads us to the advice you wanted us to offer about going to London. We both think you should go, for several reasons. One is because of your friend Peter. He is like a brother to you, and your relationship seems rather stained at the moment. It would be a good time to reinforce that wonderful friendship you have and to spend time with Peter's family, who consider you part of their family. And besides, it's Christmas, and we're sure that Peter and his family will want to be with you.
"The second reason is that we would like to see you while you're in London, and would love to meet you for dinner or something. Paul and I go to London every year to buy supplies, usually around Christmas time, and it would be lovely if we could be there during the time when you're there.
"We hope you will consider our advice, and will write us back soon.
"With love,
"Ciara and Paul Westin"
James smiled as he read the letter. The Westin's seemed to have an answer for everything. And they gave out good advice.
Reading the letter made James feel better about the whole London issue. Ciara had this way of reasoning out problems that made everything seem okay. No one would see James as anyone but James. He would have a fun time with the closest people he had to family. Simple as that. And, as an added bonus, he could visit Ciara and Paul. It would be fun.
James looked through the rest of his mail.
Bill, bill, bill, dentist postcard, and an invitation.
He opened the invitation, sensing what it was.
And he was right! It was Emma and Jacob's wedding invitation. They were getting married in late July, on the 26th.
It's about time, thought James. They had been going out for almost two years now.
James push-pinned the wedding invitation to the corkboard above his desk. Then he went out and headed for Peter's bakery to tell Peter a nice bit of good news.
The door chimed as James walked into the bakery. A customer was being helped by a blond-haired man who worked at the bakery. James waved hello and walked into the kitchen.
There were about five other people in the room cooking. Peter was there drinking a glass of water. He stood up and smiled when he saw James.
"Well, look who it is!" Peter said happily.
"Hey Peter," said James. "I have something I want to talk to you about."
"Okay,"
"Um, is your offer for me to go to England with you still open?"
"Yes, of course!"
"Well, I think I can make it. I mean," joked James, "My schedule is quite full, what with my stress-inducing job and my over-demanding large family, but I think I can find time to squeeze in a trip to England..."
Peter laughed. "Wonderful! I'm so happy you can come. Mom and Dad will be happy too, not to mention the rest of the family. They love you so much, James... you're like a long lost family member, or something. And, since you're British, you can take us to all your favorite London haunts. And you'll sound like you belong there when you speak, not like us who will have such awful accents."
"I don't know, Peter... my British accent has all but faded."
"Doesn't matter, we'll have fun."
"Well, I'm excited. Hey, did you get Emma and Jacob's wedding invitation yet?"
"Yeah. Boy, does it sound nice. And Sarah was talking for about an hour about how wonderful marriages are, and how nice it must be to be engaged, and how great it must be to live in the same place as your boyfriend. Needless to say, I got the hint."
"So...are you ever going to ask her?"
"About what?"
"To get married, stupid."
"Oh, well, one day."
"Good. I like her."
"Yeah...me too." Peter looked very flustered.
James decided to change the subject.
"So," he said, "Did Emma and Jacob want a cake, or éclairs?"
Peter groaned. "No," he said, "No more éclairs. I won't be able to stay sane if they ask for éclairs. At least, not if they ask for more than fifty."
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Hermione's face lighted up as she saw the SpySphere float in through the window and land on her desk. She was at home for the weekend and was grading papers and final exams for her DADA classes.
She picked up the SpySphere a held it like a prize. "It's about time!" she said happily, "It's almost been a week."
Carefully, she tapped the sphere with her wand and said a spell to make it relate all conversations it heard with the specified words in them.
Silver words streamed out of the sphere and floated in the air, like smoke.
"Number of conversations heard: one," the words read. Then, James's conversation with Peter burst from the sphere in high volume.
"Hey Peter, I have something I want to talk to you about." screamed the globe the voice of James.
"Okay" shouted the sphere in Peter's voice.
Hermione was horror-struck. She clutched the sphere to her chest and whispered frantically, "Quiet quiet quiet quiet... shhh!"
Despite Hermione's attempts to keep it quiet, the sphere could still be heard. "Um, is your offer for me to go to England with you still open?" said the sphere, still very loud, in James's voice.
Hermione's office door burst open and Ron stood in the doorway.
"What is going on?" he asked, rather annoyed.
"Nothing!" said Hermione, her voice high. She whipped the sphere behind her back. "Nothing at all!"
From the sphere, James's voice rang out, "...but I think I can find time to squeeze in a trip to England..."
"Nothing?" asked Ron suspiciously. "What are you hiding behind your back? And is that the voice of the muggle we saw at the bakery?"
"No! Of course not!"
"Then, what is it?"
The awkward pause was filled with the sound of James calling, "I don't know, Peter... my British accent has all but faded."
The sphere yelled finally in Peter's voice, "Doesn't matter, we'll have fun." And the conversation was over. Silence descended on the room.
"Okay, Hermione...You better have a very good excuse for this."
"Um... I can explain..."
"So? What's going on?"
"Look, Ron... Don't be mad at me--"
"Oh no," groaned Ron, "That means something bad..."
"No! It's good! At least, I think it's good." Hermione started speaking in a rush. "You see, I went to the ministry and said I was going to do a conference for Dumbledore and the guy let me into the file room and then the kids started screaming and then the guy left the room and I got the file from that incident at the bakery and then I sent a SpySphere to listen in on all the muggle's conversations that had certain words in it and then the sphere came back and you heard the conversation that the sphere recorded and I didn't tell you because I thought you would be mad at me and look! now I know you are because your face is almost as red as your hair!"
Hermione sighed and sat down breathlessly in her chair.
There was a pause while Hermione's hurried speech took time to sink into Ron's conscience.
Ron said finally, "Wait, let me get this straight... You essentially broke into the Ministry by using Dumbledore's name to get you in, with out his permission, I'm assuming, because you and your little plan seem to have priority over everything including law and privacy rights; you made an illegal copy of a Ministry file, which, might I add, is extremely dangerous because the Ministry probably has charms on the documents to make sure that doesn't happen; you lied to me about all of this; and if I heard you correctly, you did this all in front of the kids and encouraged them to not tell me about it?"
Hermione opened and closed her mouth a few times, beginning to say one excuse, then changing her mind and beginning another.
"Hermione!" burst out Ron, "How could you do this? You've broken the law, used Dumbledore's good name with out asking, and have been a very bad example to our kids! You've put our family in danger with the law! What were you thinking?"
"Look, no one will find out that I made a copy of the document. The man in charge of the department was so nervous that he wouldn't report it to the rest of the Ministry for fear of enraging Dumbledore. And besides, he thought, I was researching a separate case, not the one with Harry and I at the bakery."
"I repeat: What were you thinking?" Ron was shaking with anger. "Or were you thinking at all? This is just like in second year when you insisted that we steal supplies to make Polyjuice Potion, and then knock out two students to steal a piece of their hair. Or in third year when you had that whole time-turner thing for your classes and you stressed yourself out and made yourself sick with all the work you insisted on doing. Or all those other years when you insisted on doing things that were against the rules or harmful to yourself or other people, because you thought yourself above laws and all that. When your ambitions get hold of you, Hermione, nothing stands in your way, not even rationality. And what if your supposed Harry is actually not Harry? What if you're wrong, Hermione, and you put our family in danger all for nothing?"
Hermione looked like she was about to cry. A single tear slid down her cheek.
There was silence while Ron willed himself to take a deep breath and count to ten.
"Look," said Ron, "I didn't mean to dash your hopes. I was just scared, that's all. I was scared that we would get in trouble, and I don't want our life to be ruined."
More tears trickled down Hermione's face.
Ron bent down in front of Hermione and put his hand on her knee. He looked up into her eyes. "Sweetheart, you could be right. That man could be Harry. I want him to be Harry. But I don't want you to be crushed if your hopes aren't fulfilled." Ron thought a moment. "Tell you what: I promise to fully support you in your plan to find Harry, on two conditions: one, that you do not do anything else illegal or harmful to our children, and two, that you will promise not to get your hopes up too high, by thinking that this man will definitely be Harry. Do you agree?"
Hermione gave a small sniff. "You-- You mean that you will help me find Harry? And you won't get mad at me?"
"Yes, but you have to promise me not to expect too much. I don't want you to be depressed if this man does not turn out to be Harry. Promise?"
Hermione sighed. "Yes, I promise."
"Good," said Ron, "Now, what sort of plan did you have in mind?"
Hermione smiled. "Well, this SpySphere has revealed that the man is going to London for Christmas..."
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