Chapter 5:Lost & Found 


Voleta Voile walked swiftly down a street in downtown Paris, her high heels clicking against the brick 
underfoot. She had seen three owls today, and she was angry about it. "Bloody birds," she mumbled to
herself, her accent a strange mix between French and her native British. She had lived here so long
she had almost completely lost her British accent, but it was still slightly apparent in her voice.
This too annoyed her, though not nearly as much as seeing the owls. She had known they were wizarding
owls too, the way they flew so low to the ground; she could even see the letter tied to one owl's 
leg! 

Owls. Wands. Cloaks. MAGIC. What rubbish, she thought to herself.
Things such as these stirred memories inside her of events she had almost managed to forget, a time
long past when her life had been entirely different. But now, today, this cold rainy day in Paris,
things were different. Better, she told herself. Her tiny apartment, her office job, there were
the things that success is made of. She waved down a city bus traveling down the crowded street and
got on board, leaning her face against the cool window. Deep in thought, her eyes closed most of
the journey home, she failed to see the man who had gotten onto the bus after her, his long dark
cloak touching the floor of the bus only two seats behind her.



Dinner that night at Number 12 Grimmauld Place was quite the affair. After giving Harry a day alone to rest, Mrs. Weasley insisted that Harry, Ron, Hermione and as many members of the Order as possible come to the evening meal. She had outdone herself once again, with the table groaning under the mounds of delicious food. Harry, however, still seemed withdrawn and sullen. Hermione had noticed the change, of course, and was attempting to engage Harry in coversation; after a while however, she gave up, and began talking to Tonks about S.P.E.W., while Ron was listening in on the animated conversation between several of the other aurors, talking about a raid which had occured earlier that day. "Did you see him Kingsley, the way that curse hit him there was no way out-" "Ha! You're lucky you made it, that was a sticky situation..." "That wasn't luck, that was skill!! What are you talking about?" Heavily, Harry got up from the table and headed upstairs, no one seeing him leave with the exception of Dumbledore. Dumbledore turned to his left where Remus Lupin sat, staring at his now-empty place. "Excuse me, Remus, would you mind having a private word with me in the parlor?" Remus looked up, slightly alarmed. "Oh, er, of course, Albus," he said simply, standing up. They reached the parlor and sat on one of the old-fashioned sofas. Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I am very concerned about Harry. I know that each person must deal with their grief in their own way, and I know that you are dealing with yours at this time also, Remus. However, I see you as one of the few people that Harry would feel comfortable talking to about Sirus." Remus looked down, feeling guilty. "Albus, I am sorry, I have been so selfish and caught up with my own grief, I haven't had time-" "Now Remus," Dumbledore began. "I am not insinuating that you should have been helping Harry. At this point, it is still too early. But in the future," his eyes twinkled, and a small smile appeared, "I shall want you to be there for him, near him so that he may discuss the situation if he feels the need to. Which is why I have decided to rehire you for the position of Hogwart's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." Remus stared at Dumbledore, amazed. "But... that's not safe, the parents... no one will allow it..." "I am allowing it," Dumbledore interrupted. "With the Wolfsbane Potion, it is safe; many parents will have heard from their children that you were the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher they have ever had. For those parents who disagree with my decision, their only choice will be to remove their children from my school, as many have already done with Voldemort's return. I doubt many more will leave. Please, Remus, accept this position." Numbly, Remus nodded. "Good then, it is done; I will expect to see you the last week of August so that you may set up your classroom. See you soon, Remus," he said, exiting the room and disapparating from the hallway. Remus sat back in shock. He was going to be a teacher again! And more than just that, he would be able to be near Harry, helping him cope. He smiled to himself. Things were beginning to look up.
"Harry, I know you don't want to talk right now, but if you ever do, I'm here for you, okay?" The worried voice of Hermione floated into his bedroom and pushed aside his thoughts of Sirius. He nodded. "Thanks Hermione," he said, pausing. "I just... it's so hard..." He shook his head, he would never be able to transform his emotions into words. He covered his eyes with his hand, great, he thought to himself, he was about to start crying again. He hoped Hermione would just leave, walk out of the door so he could deal with this by himself. Leave, Hermione, please leave...he thought. Instead, she swooped down upon him and hugged him, beginning to sob herself. "Harry, I know this is hard, it's difficult for all of us, I know it's the worst for you, but... please, Harry, don't do this to yourself." She looked up, her face shining with tears. "I miss the old you, Harry." The old me died when I found out about the prophesy, he thought to himself. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he mumbled. She hugged him tighter. "Don't be sorry, Harry, I know you have to grieve. Everyone does. It's okay to cry." They sat together on the floor of his room, arms around one another, tears pouring down their faces for nearly an hour and a half. Finally, after he and Hermione had been able to collect themselves, they stood up. Harry felt as if a weight had been lifted off his chest just by sharing his feelings with his friend. "Thanks, Hermione, that really helped," he said, smiling. "Sure," she whispered back, enveloping him in another hug. Neither one of them saw the angry face glaring at them from the door which was just barely open. ***********************************
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