Harry woke up in a cold sweat. Where was he? Suddenly he heard a clock
ticking loudly in the hall; a slight rattle as Hedwig moved in her sleep
inside the cage; thunderous snoring from down the hall where Uncle Vernon
lay sweetly asleep, if you can really use that expression. He sat up slowly
and pushed his glasses on, squinting at his watch which reflected the light
from the street lamp outside. Three o'clock in the morning! He lay back in
the bed again with a frown on his face. Another dream. No, not Lord
Voldemort again - he had not allowed those dreams breathing space since his
early summer Occlumency classes with Dumbledore - but perhaps just as
disturbing as those.
. . . 'Good morning, munchkin!' . . . he could hear a sweet voice . . . 'How is my darling today? Do you know who has come to see you, you lucky boy?' . . . a slightly gruff voice . . . 'He looks just like you, James, but he has my daughter's eyes, thank heaven' . . .
Harry shook his head and blinked a few times, trying to think straight. What on earth was going on? It seemed to him as if he was having memories . from infancy! But that was hardly likely - most people hardly remember even the second year of their life - and this seemed as if his mother was there. And his father. And someone else.
He remembered an earlier dream.
. . . 'Now, Harry! Stand up - go on! Be a man!' . . . 'Oh, Henry, don't push the boy, you can see he loves to crawl' . . . and another dream . . . 'I have a feeling about this boy of yours, James - he's going to be a great wizard someday!' . . . 'Oh, Father, you can hardly tell now' . . . a more feminine voice piped up . . . 'and anyhow, I would love Harry just as much if he turned out to be a Squib, so there!'
Harry had woken up with the pillow a little wet after that one.
Now he tried to forget it all; he really should get some sleep. They would be up to all hours tomorrow night in the Gryffindor common room - Hogwarts tomorrow! It would seem almost heaven to him after the long, drowsy summer spent at the Dursleys', not allowed out for any reason whatsoever under orders of Albus Dumbledore himself. The Dursleys wouldn't have minded letting him out, hoping for his death, if they hadn't been so terrified of what Dumbledore could do. He had spent the entire summer in his room, hanging out for mail from his friends, nibbling at the myriad quantities of food which sympathetic Mrs Weasley had sent via Errol on a trip which had left Errol gasping for days by Hedwig's water bowl. It had been fun sometimes scaring Dudley almost into cardiac arrest, but most of the time he just got into more trouble if he did that, and now all the Dursleys simply stayed away from him as much as possible -
What was that? Harry jumped up. Taps on the window. "Harry! Harry!"
Harry rushed to the window on tiptoes, and almost pulled the curtain out of its rings in his eagerness to see who was there. The grinning faces of Moody, Tonks and Lupin greeted him, perched on their broomsticks outside. "All right, Harry?"
Harry beamed. "I'm fine!" He paused. "Please take me away!"
"Poor Harry," said Lupin, a sad smile on his face. "I bet you haven't had the best holidays of your life?"
"No, you could say that," said Harry with a grin. "But you are here to take me, aren't you?"
"Yeah, of course!" said Tonks. "What do you think we're here for, a social call?"
Harry grinned. "I'll get my things." He stuffed all his clothes, all his books, into his big Hogwarts trunk until he could hardly close the lid. Hedwig's cage was strapped onto the trunk too, and Harry picked up his Firebolt, while scribbling a note to the Dursleys in case they cared. "I'll leave all Mrs Weasley's cakes to rot underneath the floorboards," he said. "Where are we going?"
"Grimmauld Place," answered Moody.
Harry started suddenly, and looked up. "Grimmauld Place?"
The other three now looked serious. "Yes, Harry. I'm sorry. I know the whole house may bring back memories," said Moody softly.
Harry swallowed, and looked away. "Hedwig, meet us at Grimmauld Place," he said softly to his owl. Hedwig nibbled his finger in an affectionate, comforting sort of way, and then soared out the wide-open window with a hoot. Moody waved a careless wand at Harry's things. "Petitio!" All Harry's luggage turned to the size of a thimble. Harry stared.
"Just put it in your pocket, son," said Moody, "make sure it won't fall out."
"Are you ready?" asked Lupin, still eyeing Harry with sympathy.
"Yeah," said Harry, getting on his Firebolt. They soared off into the night, and the sensation of being in the air at long last was almost enough to rid Harry of the lump in his throat, and the pain in his heart. Sirius. . . he had almost managed not to think of Sirius - but then he didn't want to stop thinking of Sirius, either, in case he forgot him. It was all too recent, he decided, following Tonks on a steep climb above a low cloud.
At last they arrived at Grimmauld Place. Harry got off his broom, almost sodden after having to fly through several clouds on which Moody, ever vigilant, had insisted on. He was shivering, and still in his pyjamas and thin jacket. The others bustled him into the house, whispering, and quickly took him upstairs. "Here's your room, Harry," said Lupin.
"Is Ron here?" Harry asked sleepily.
"Yes, but right now he is asleep, and doesn't know you're here, and I would suggest leaving him that way until the morning," replied Moody. "Now, get out your trunk from your pocket, I'll restore it to its proper size."
Everything was done; the others left the room; Harry collapsed into bed. It was only as his eyes started to shut that he remembered the dream. He was utterly confused.
************
. . . 'Say hello to your aunty, Harry! Say hello to Alba!' . . . 'Hello, Harry, you young rascal, have you been ripping up any more important documents lately?' . . . a musical laugh . . . 'No, he's been very good, hasn't he, Lily?' . . . Harry's heart gave a jump - his father! . . . 'How's little Neville doing, Alba? Frank and Alice are so proud, it's lovely . . . but we haven't seen hardly any of the Order for such a time now, have we, James?' . . . 'At least we've got Sirius, Lily' . . . 'you're right, darling - good old Sirius!' . . .
Harry sat up in bed, panting. It was too much; it really was. These dreams, they were driving him out of his mind, and now, to mention Sirius as well! He couldn't stand it. Well, there was to be no more sleep that night, that was for sure. Thoughts whirled in and out of his mind like manic steam rollers, leaving him so exhausted he had no way to stop them. Family . . . grandson . . . Sirius . . . munchkin . . . aunty . . . Alba . . . rascal . . .
Harry finally fell asleep a few hours before daybreak, strained and exhausted.
************
"HARRY!! Harry!" A heavy lump landed on his bed like a lightning bolt, and shook him awake immediately. "Oh, Harry, when we went down to breakfast today, and they told us you were here, oh Harry! How are you, Harry?"
"Tired," moaned Harry, rubbing his eyes.
Hermione covered her mouth in a gasp. "Oh, sorry, Harry! I should have known!"
"How are you, Harry?" asked Ron, grinning.
"Good, I suppose," said Harry, smiling faintly back as he pulled on his glasses. "I guess you two have had a great summer."
"All right," said Ron, screwing up his face. "It was just me and Ginny here with Mum and Dad most of the time. Fred and George apparently live with us, but they've been in Diagon Alley so much I hardly see them. There weren't even many of the Order in, now that You-Know-Who's announced his presence, and they have a headquarters at the Ministry. And Hermione abandoned me to go to the Middle East on her Ancient Runes trip."
"Oh please Ron, as if I did," said Hermione sharply, and turned back to Harry with a grin on her face. "So, Harry, have you had a good summer?"
He snorted. "Fat chance. Have I ever had a good summer staying with the Dursleys?"
Her face fell. "Oh, Harry, I am sorry. I thought of you a lot, you know."
"Yeah," added Ron. "And we did try to send you lots of stuff to put you out of your misery."
"You did," admitted Harry. "Thanks, Ron, Hermione. I would've gone mad without it."
Hermione lowered her voice to a whisper. "Have you had any more . dreams?" She said it as if dreams were the scariest thing in existence, but Harry wasn't laughing.
"Not about Voldemort, if that's what you mean," he sighed.
"Sirius?" whispered Hermione again.
He shrugged. "A bit. Not really."
"Then what have you been dreaming about?"
He looked away for a moment. "I don't know . flashbacks and stuff ."
"Like with the Dementors?" whispered Ron now in what could have been comical under different circumstances.
Harry shook his head. "No, different now." He paused, trying to collect his thoughts. He began hesitantly. "I hear all these voices - my Mum, my Dad . . . and other people. I think they might be other relatives of mine. I hear them talk about aunties and grandparents and . . . yeah."
"Weird," said Ron, his eyes wide.
Hermione's eyes were, however, narrowed. "But what's happened to them, then? They weren't killed like your parents, were they?"
Harry shrugged helplessly. "I have no idea."
They all looked at each other wordlessly. Hermione at last broke the silence. "Maybe you should ask Dumbledore."
"No, Hermione," said Ron, rolling his eyes. "Why do you always have to suggest that?"
She scowled. "Simply because it is the most obvious and probably most effective way to solve the problem?"
"It's an idea, Hermione," said Harry. "But . what if Dumbledore doesn't want me to know? If they're still alive, if I have any relatives . why hasn't he told me before this?"
Ron fiddled with his shoelace, looking away. Hermione bit her lip. They didn't have the answers.
. . . 'Good morning, munchkin!' . . . he could hear a sweet voice . . . 'How is my darling today? Do you know who has come to see you, you lucky boy?' . . . a slightly gruff voice . . . 'He looks just like you, James, but he has my daughter's eyes, thank heaven' . . .
Harry shook his head and blinked a few times, trying to think straight. What on earth was going on? It seemed to him as if he was having memories . from infancy! But that was hardly likely - most people hardly remember even the second year of their life - and this seemed as if his mother was there. And his father. And someone else.
He remembered an earlier dream.
. . . 'Now, Harry! Stand up - go on! Be a man!' . . . 'Oh, Henry, don't push the boy, you can see he loves to crawl' . . . and another dream . . . 'I have a feeling about this boy of yours, James - he's going to be a great wizard someday!' . . . 'Oh, Father, you can hardly tell now' . . . a more feminine voice piped up . . . 'and anyhow, I would love Harry just as much if he turned out to be a Squib, so there!'
Harry had woken up with the pillow a little wet after that one.
Now he tried to forget it all; he really should get some sleep. They would be up to all hours tomorrow night in the Gryffindor common room - Hogwarts tomorrow! It would seem almost heaven to him after the long, drowsy summer spent at the Dursleys', not allowed out for any reason whatsoever under orders of Albus Dumbledore himself. The Dursleys wouldn't have minded letting him out, hoping for his death, if they hadn't been so terrified of what Dumbledore could do. He had spent the entire summer in his room, hanging out for mail from his friends, nibbling at the myriad quantities of food which sympathetic Mrs Weasley had sent via Errol on a trip which had left Errol gasping for days by Hedwig's water bowl. It had been fun sometimes scaring Dudley almost into cardiac arrest, but most of the time he just got into more trouble if he did that, and now all the Dursleys simply stayed away from him as much as possible -
What was that? Harry jumped up. Taps on the window. "Harry! Harry!"
Harry rushed to the window on tiptoes, and almost pulled the curtain out of its rings in his eagerness to see who was there. The grinning faces of Moody, Tonks and Lupin greeted him, perched on their broomsticks outside. "All right, Harry?"
Harry beamed. "I'm fine!" He paused. "Please take me away!"
"Poor Harry," said Lupin, a sad smile on his face. "I bet you haven't had the best holidays of your life?"
"No, you could say that," said Harry with a grin. "But you are here to take me, aren't you?"
"Yeah, of course!" said Tonks. "What do you think we're here for, a social call?"
Harry grinned. "I'll get my things." He stuffed all his clothes, all his books, into his big Hogwarts trunk until he could hardly close the lid. Hedwig's cage was strapped onto the trunk too, and Harry picked up his Firebolt, while scribbling a note to the Dursleys in case they cared. "I'll leave all Mrs Weasley's cakes to rot underneath the floorboards," he said. "Where are we going?"
"Grimmauld Place," answered Moody.
Harry started suddenly, and looked up. "Grimmauld Place?"
The other three now looked serious. "Yes, Harry. I'm sorry. I know the whole house may bring back memories," said Moody softly.
Harry swallowed, and looked away. "Hedwig, meet us at Grimmauld Place," he said softly to his owl. Hedwig nibbled his finger in an affectionate, comforting sort of way, and then soared out the wide-open window with a hoot. Moody waved a careless wand at Harry's things. "Petitio!" All Harry's luggage turned to the size of a thimble. Harry stared.
"Just put it in your pocket, son," said Moody, "make sure it won't fall out."
"Are you ready?" asked Lupin, still eyeing Harry with sympathy.
"Yeah," said Harry, getting on his Firebolt. They soared off into the night, and the sensation of being in the air at long last was almost enough to rid Harry of the lump in his throat, and the pain in his heart. Sirius. . . he had almost managed not to think of Sirius - but then he didn't want to stop thinking of Sirius, either, in case he forgot him. It was all too recent, he decided, following Tonks on a steep climb above a low cloud.
At last they arrived at Grimmauld Place. Harry got off his broom, almost sodden after having to fly through several clouds on which Moody, ever vigilant, had insisted on. He was shivering, and still in his pyjamas and thin jacket. The others bustled him into the house, whispering, and quickly took him upstairs. "Here's your room, Harry," said Lupin.
"Is Ron here?" Harry asked sleepily.
"Yes, but right now he is asleep, and doesn't know you're here, and I would suggest leaving him that way until the morning," replied Moody. "Now, get out your trunk from your pocket, I'll restore it to its proper size."
Everything was done; the others left the room; Harry collapsed into bed. It was only as his eyes started to shut that he remembered the dream. He was utterly confused.
************
. . . 'Say hello to your aunty, Harry! Say hello to Alba!' . . . 'Hello, Harry, you young rascal, have you been ripping up any more important documents lately?' . . . a musical laugh . . . 'No, he's been very good, hasn't he, Lily?' . . . Harry's heart gave a jump - his father! . . . 'How's little Neville doing, Alba? Frank and Alice are so proud, it's lovely . . . but we haven't seen hardly any of the Order for such a time now, have we, James?' . . . 'At least we've got Sirius, Lily' . . . 'you're right, darling - good old Sirius!' . . .
Harry sat up in bed, panting. It was too much; it really was. These dreams, they were driving him out of his mind, and now, to mention Sirius as well! He couldn't stand it. Well, there was to be no more sleep that night, that was for sure. Thoughts whirled in and out of his mind like manic steam rollers, leaving him so exhausted he had no way to stop them. Family . . . grandson . . . Sirius . . . munchkin . . . aunty . . . Alba . . . rascal . . .
Harry finally fell asleep a few hours before daybreak, strained and exhausted.
************
"HARRY!! Harry!" A heavy lump landed on his bed like a lightning bolt, and shook him awake immediately. "Oh, Harry, when we went down to breakfast today, and they told us you were here, oh Harry! How are you, Harry?"
"Tired," moaned Harry, rubbing his eyes.
Hermione covered her mouth in a gasp. "Oh, sorry, Harry! I should have known!"
"How are you, Harry?" asked Ron, grinning.
"Good, I suppose," said Harry, smiling faintly back as he pulled on his glasses. "I guess you two have had a great summer."
"All right," said Ron, screwing up his face. "It was just me and Ginny here with Mum and Dad most of the time. Fred and George apparently live with us, but they've been in Diagon Alley so much I hardly see them. There weren't even many of the Order in, now that You-Know-Who's announced his presence, and they have a headquarters at the Ministry. And Hermione abandoned me to go to the Middle East on her Ancient Runes trip."
"Oh please Ron, as if I did," said Hermione sharply, and turned back to Harry with a grin on her face. "So, Harry, have you had a good summer?"
He snorted. "Fat chance. Have I ever had a good summer staying with the Dursleys?"
Her face fell. "Oh, Harry, I am sorry. I thought of you a lot, you know."
"Yeah," added Ron. "And we did try to send you lots of stuff to put you out of your misery."
"You did," admitted Harry. "Thanks, Ron, Hermione. I would've gone mad without it."
Hermione lowered her voice to a whisper. "Have you had any more . dreams?" She said it as if dreams were the scariest thing in existence, but Harry wasn't laughing.
"Not about Voldemort, if that's what you mean," he sighed.
"Sirius?" whispered Hermione again.
He shrugged. "A bit. Not really."
"Then what have you been dreaming about?"
He looked away for a moment. "I don't know . flashbacks and stuff ."
"Like with the Dementors?" whispered Ron now in what could have been comical under different circumstances.
Harry shook his head. "No, different now." He paused, trying to collect his thoughts. He began hesitantly. "I hear all these voices - my Mum, my Dad . . . and other people. I think they might be other relatives of mine. I hear them talk about aunties and grandparents and . . . yeah."
"Weird," said Ron, his eyes wide.
Hermione's eyes were, however, narrowed. "But what's happened to them, then? They weren't killed like your parents, were they?"
Harry shrugged helplessly. "I have no idea."
They all looked at each other wordlessly. Hermione at last broke the silence. "Maybe you should ask Dumbledore."
"No, Hermione," said Ron, rolling his eyes. "Why do you always have to suggest that?"
She scowled. "Simply because it is the most obvious and probably most effective way to solve the problem?"
"It's an idea, Hermione," said Harry. "But . what if Dumbledore doesn't want me to know? If they're still alive, if I have any relatives . why hasn't he told me before this?"
Ron fiddled with his shoelace, looking away. Hermione bit her lip. They didn't have the answers.