"The Devil's Dilemma"
Chapter Four
"In Which Harry Learns that Marriage Can be Difficult"
The sweetest woman in the world
Could be the meanest woman in the world
If you make her that way.
You keep hurting her
She'll keep being quiet,
She might be holding something inside
That'll really, really hurt you one day…
-Thin Line Between Love and Hate, Iron Maiden
It was raining.
Not just any rain, mind you: this was a soaking rain; a rain that fell to the earth in large, fat, pregnant drops; the kind of rain that felt like a punch when it splashed against an uncovered and unprotected face. This, combined with the humidity of the air and the yellowish-white zigzags of lightning that occasionally snaked across the sky, would normally cause any sane man caught in it to turn around, head back into his house and curl up with a good magazine. Perhaps he would engage in some physical love with the wife…anything, just so long as they were warm and dry.
But not Harry Potter. Oh no, not Harry. Despite being cold, wet and somewhat chagrined that he had spoken so harshly to Tessa, Harry was too proud to walk back into the house. He had spoken his piece and shown Tessa who wore the trousers in the relationship and he wasn't about to lose face. She was going to have to start treating him with respect if she ever wanted to see him again, he thought.
Wow Harry, you chose a miserable day to decide to leave your wife, the boy wizard thought huffily as he looked to the sky and winced as the drops slapped his face like a thousand small hands. He hadn't thought to bring his heavier cloak and his wand was packed somewhere in his hastily packed suitcase…towards the bottom, he believed, and he wasn't about to try to dig it out; he had neither the time nor the inclination to do so.
As the rain drenched his black locks, pasting them to his head, Harry glanced back at the Tudor house. The lights were still on downstairs, throwing beams of golden light into the back garden. He supposed that Tessa was still hoping that he would come back inside…hoping that he would come back to her. That particular thought sent him back into his childishly angry mode once more. Bloody hell, not tonight, Harry thought to himself. He needed time away…away from her and away from his crying baby. She should understand. She would have to understand. He was only seventeen—too young to be taking care of a baby. He needed his space. She was older and more knowledgeable of the workings of the world.
On some small level, Harry knew that he was being grotesquely immature. It had required both Tessa and himself to create Abigail and it was harshly unfair to saddle Tessa with the burden alone. But maybe being away for a couple of days will help me clear my head, Harry thought. I can be a better husband to her if I'm rested. She'll be thrilled with that, right?
Yeah, his brain demurred. Leaving Tessa alone with a small baby despite the dangers of the Side of Darkness discovering her will really cause her to leap into your arms with delight! Try as he might, (and he was trying quite hard) Harry was having a hard time justifying his departure from the house and with each passing moment he felt more and more foolish.
It wasn't that he didn't love Tessa anymore; he loved her very much, and the baby too for that matter. What he was sure of was this: had he stayed in the house much longer, he would have been angry enough to warrant exchanging words with Tessa that would have been rather hurtful. He didn't want to do that, even though her words to him had stung quite a lot. Maybe it's true what they say; Harry thought…marriage is a lot like a coffin and children are the nails that seal it shut!
Harry prepared to Apparate to the Burrow, not knowing exactly what he would encounter when he got there. Better have a good story, he thought. Ron was the only Weasley who knew that he was married and a father and that's the way that things had to stay for the foreseeable future. He stepped behind a tree and Apparated out of the back garden. Seconds later, he stood in front of Ron's house, soaked to the bone. He raised his hand and knocked.
The door opened. Mrs. Weasley stood in the entryway, a dishcloth in one hand. When she saw Harry standing on the porch, her eyes widened in surprise.
"Harry, dear! For goodness sakes, do come on in out of this terrible rain!" She grabbed hold of Harry's cloak and literally pulled him into the house. Harry stood on the rug just inside the doorway, puddles beginning to form by his feet as he dripped. "Ron!" Mrs. Weasley called up the stairs, "Harry's here! Bring down some towels, dear, he's positively drenched!" She clucked over her new charge like a mother hen caring for her chicks as she helped Harry out of his outer robes.
Ron's red head appeared in the stairwell, his facial expression one of complete and utter surprise. "Harry's here?" Moments later, Ron bounded downstairs, a bundle to towels clutched in his hand. "Here, mum," he offered, thrusting the towels into her hands. As Mrs. Weasley continued to pull Harry out of his wet things and placed the warm, fluffy towel around his shoulders, Ron caught Harry's dejected-looking eyes with his own round ones. He raised one eyebrow. Harry inclined his head ever so slightly in Mrs. Weasley's general direction and shook his head slightly. Ron seemed to understand the gesture and did not speak.
"What brings you here on what has to be the most depressing-looking night of the season?" asked Mrs. Weasley jovially as she towel dried Harry's hair. "Nobody should be venturing outside on a night like this. Honestly, I think our weather gets worse every single year…" She continued to ramble as she conjured up a cup of hot chocolate with a flick of her wand and handed the steaming, frothy treat to Harry, who took it and sipped it gratefully.
"Um…" Harry didn't rightly know what to say to her. The thought of outright lying made him feel lower than a worm. Molly Weasley had been nothing but kind toward him for as long as she had known him and was a bit like a mother figure to Harry; it felt wrong to tell her something that was utter fabrication. She was staring at him, awaiting an answer. What could he say? "I--"
Ron saved Harry from his moral dilemma. "He owled me, mum, last week and told me that his Aunt and Uncle were giving him permission to stay here until the start of school," Ron lied easily. Harry looked at him appreciatively. Apparently, Ron had no qualms about lying to his mother at all. Harry grinned.
Mrs. Weasley embraced Harry warmly. She looked up to him with a welcoming smile. When did Harry get to be so tall, she wondered. "Well, we're glad to have you, Harry. Would have been awfully nice of Ron to let us know you were coming so we could have got out your bed!" She shot Ron a dirty look. "I suppose you boys just want to talk anyway. Why don't you set up a sleeping bag, Ron, and let Harry take your bed?"
"Fine with me!" Ron turned and began to head up the stairs. On the third step he turned around. "Coming, Harry?" he asked.
"Yeah! Thank you for the drink, Mrs. Weasley," he offered Ron's mother, giving her the half-finished mug of chocolate.
The boys trudged upstairs, saying nothing. Ron pulled the door to his bedroom open and Harry stepped through.
"All right," Ron said when his bedroom door closed behind Harry. He pulled a faded-looking orange sleeping bag with the Chudley Canons logo on it (a speeding cannon ball with two connected 'C's' emblazoned across it) and laid it out on the floor. "We both know that you haven't been anywhere near the Dursleys. Something's up with you, and I want to know what it is. Now, tell."
For a few moments, Harry ignored his best mate and looked about the room. It was the epitome of teenaged boys' rooms everywhere: the room looked like a bomb had recently struck it. Dirty clothes were scattered everywhere; comic books (wizarding ones and Muggle ones alike) littered the floor. Posters of Cannon team members adorned the walls. As he looked to Ron's unmade bed, Harry was fairly certain that he saw a recent issue of Playwizard peeking out from behind Ron's pillow. Upon closer inspection, Harry saw that indeed he was, in fact, completely correct. A buxom, raven-haired witch wearing nothing but a pair of tassels and a thong winked suggestively at him from the cover of the publication, across which was splashed the title of the feature article (which, as we all know, was why wizards bought the rag anyway), "Everything You Wanted to Know About Engorgement Charms (but were afraid to ask)." Harry picked up the magazine and shot Ron a questioning look.
"I know what you're thinking. Sod off, Harry," Ron said, looking embarrassed. "Besides, Miss July was worth the price all by herself."
Harry flipped to the centerfold and his jaw dropped. Miss July was definitely a credit to her gender; long black hair, smoldering gray eyes and posed in a position that Harry was fairly certain had to require a touch of acrobatic skill to pull off as successfully as she was. She blew Harry a kiss. "Hermione would be thrilled if she knew you looked at this sort of stuff," he commented dryly. And I'm certain that Tessa would be doing cartwheels if she knew you were looking as well, the sensible part of Harry's mind offered. Immediately Harry closed the magazine and blushed.
"Well, I wouldn't need to look if Hermione were a little more open to the idea of--" Ron's face flamed as he caught himself. "Hey, wait just a bloody minute here! We're not talking about me tonight. You're the one who came to my house all wet and looking like you've been kicked repeatedly in the manhood. What's going on? Did Tessa throw you out?" Ron's voice was concerned as he asked this.
Harry glanced nervously around the room. He did not want to be overheard. "Where's Ginny, Percy and the twins?" he asked in a conspiratorial whisper.
"Ginny's asleep, I think," Ron answered in a low voice. "Percy's not here--working overtime. He's planning on buying an engagement ring for Penelope to give her for Christmas and needs cash fast." Ron looked about the room and seemed to discover then and there that he probably ought to clean it up a little; after all, Harry was a guest. He reached for his wand and began to send papers and books whizzing around the room and piled them neatly into a corner.
"Good for him," Harry said with a small smile. He sat on the bed and laced his fingers behind his head.
"Good for us you mean," Ron replied. "Honestly, that bloke is so anal that he could shove a lump of coal up his arse and shit out a diamond in a week or two, what with his love affair with cauldron bottoms. I've heard enough about those to last me three lifetimes! Penelope can have him. That is, if she can stand him."
Harry laughed aloud at this. The mental picture alone was enough to cause him to snicker; the part about the cauldron bottoms was the icing on the cake.
"Fred and George are on a double date in Hogsmeade tonight. Fred's with Angelina and George is with the Guatemalan delegate to the International Confederation of Wizards. He met her through Percy, actually. It was a bloody riot when he introduced her to mum and dad. She doesn't speak a word of English…not that that's going to be an issue with George later, if you know what I mean." Ron waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Harry did. He also realized just how far out of the loop he was as far as Ron was concerned. Ron's relationship with Hermione was deepening and Harry was uncomfortably aware that, due to his current circumstances, he had missed out on a significant time in Ron's life. Life was going merrily on for everyone around Harry; meanwhile he seemed stuck in quicksand--not quite drowning yet, but not too far from it. It was a depressing thought.
"You want a Fizzing Whizbee?" Ron asked conversationally as he reached into his desk drawer and pulled out several of the multi-colored confections.
"Lovely!" Harry smiled, thankful for a tiny respite from his thoughts.
"Incoming!" cried Ron. Harry opened his mouth wide and Ron attempted to lob one of the candies into his mouth. He missed by several inches.
"Chaser material you're not," Harry said as Ron tried unsuccessfully twice more to make contact with Harry's open mouth. One Whizbee hit the wall, split into several pieces and fell behind the bed; the other one got lost amongst the bedclothes. "Come on, Ron, you're not even close."
"I know, I know. And with a mouth as big as yours you'd think I would be a shoe-in!" Ron exclaimed. Harry closed his mouth and threw a pillow at Ron, laughing. He searched through the bedclothes for the intact Whizbee to no avail.
Ron watched Harry search. "You know, there are days when I really miss Scabbers," he said with a hint of regret. "He was always good at finding sweets and cleaning up my messes." Ron handed Harry a Whizbee and Harry took it. The sweet bonbon seemed to levitate in his mouth. It was very sour and Harry's cheeks burned a little due to the tartness.
"So, why are you here with me and not with your wife and child?" Ron asked. "You two seemed so happy together and after the problems with Tessa and the birth--"
Harry cut his friend off. "I'm tired. I can't do this, Ron…I can't do it," he mumbled. "Tessa's not the woman I married anymore. It's almost as if she's gone insane! She doesn't sleep, except for three or four hours a day and at really odd times. I worry about the baby…what's going to happen to her if Tessa falls asleep when I'm not there…dreams…I don't know what's going on but I can't seem to help her." Harry knew that he was talking fast and furious and that Ron probably had no idea what he was talking about but he felt the need to get his weight off his chest.
Ron confirmed Harry's thoughts by speaking. "Slow down, Harry," his friend said. "I don't understand what you're saying."
Harry tried to compose himself. "I shouldn't be here…I should have stayed with her. We had a row, Ron…a bad one. She thinks I'm stupid."
"Did she actually say that?" Ron's eyes were wide.
"Well, no," Harry admitted, "but she may as well have."
"So what makes you think she thinks you're stupid?" Ron asked.
"I--I don't know." Suddenly Harry felt very, very foolish. He worked over his response to Ron's question in his brain, but the more he tried to think of a way to articulate it, the more stupid it sounded. 'Well, Ron, Tessa's having these nasty nightmares but doesn't want to discuss them with me and now I'm throwing a hissy fit over it? Meanwhile she gave me what has to be the best birthday present I've ever received, bar none, this morning.' The more Harry thought about it, the stupider he felt.
"I am just tired, I suppose. Having a baby is a lot more work than I thought it was going to be," Harry said. "I don't have anyone to talk about it with, either."
"Hey, thanks," Ron said dourly. "Meanwhile, here I sit."
"I didn't mean it that way, Ron," Harry replied. "You've been great. It's just that I wish I had someone to talk to who has had experience with this. Tessa's behavior in the last month has been really weird. She cries a lot and doesn't sleep very much. Sometimes she acts like she's afraid of her own shadow. She carries her wand around the house with her all the time, like she's afraid she's going to be attacked or something! It's getting better, or at least I thought it was. Today when I came home from the shops, I went upstairs and she had torn the bureau apart. Looking for something, she told me. I offered to help her and she said not to bother and that it wasn't a big deal. But she was crying, Ron." Harry raked his hands through his hair. "She had these tears coming down her cheeks and I know that something was haunting her but she won't say what."
"Weird," Ron said with a pensive frown. "Maybe she doesn't want to bother you. Maybe she's afraid she's going to hurt you somehow. Have you thought to talk to Sirius or Dumbledore?"
"I owled Sirius several weeks ago, but I haven't received an owl back yet," Harry answered. He looked at Ron, shamefaced. "I actually threatened to tell Dumbledore what was going on. I told Tessa that he'd force her to speak. She called my bluff, Ron. She wants to talk to him and not me. If that doesn't confirm my suspicion that she thinks I'm a complete dunce, then I don't know what does."
Ron gave a low whistle. "I don't know what to tell you Harry."
"That's fine, Ron. I just had to get it out to someone. I've seen nobody except the local shopkeeper since bringing Tessa home with the baby. Maybe I've just been without contact with other people for so long that things that shouldn't bother me are." He smiled. "Maybe a night away from Tessa and the baby is all I need."
Ron frowned. Running away from problems was not the way that Harry usually handled himself. Something was up with his best mate and his wife…something more than Harry was willing to let on…
"Well, if you were that upset with her, maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to leave. You don't want to say something to her you're going to wish you hadn't."
Harry nodded in agreement.
"You love her, Harry. I remember how you looked in the delivery room when you weren't sure she was going to live or not. You looked about one hundred years' old that day. You have too much vested in Tessa to leave her over some dreams Harry. Abigail needs both of her parents, not just one. I don't profess to know everything about love and marriage and all of that; hell, I can't even get underneath Hermione's blouse, but I do know that you love Tessa and she loves you."
Harry looked to his friend with wonder. "I am impressed that something that adult-sounding came out of your mouth, I really am." He sniffed and wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "My ickle friend is growing up..."
"Poke it, fuckwit," Ron said in a dismissive voice, but was bursting with pride on the inside. He decided that the time had come to change the subject entirely. "Want to look at the new Nimbuses?" he asked as he pulled the Quidditch Affectionado from his desk drawer.
Harry's face lit up like a Christmas tree. He had the same magazine at home. "Yeah," he said. "Let me just let Tessa know what's going on so she doesn't worry."
It pleased Ron to watch his best friend give him his first real smile in months. "Write Tessa a note and let her know you're ok. We'll send Pig."
"Nah. He's small but he's a trooper. Besides, Errol only does local deliveries now." Ron opened up his desk drawer and pulled out some parchment and a quill. He handed them to Harry.
"I do love her, you know," Harry said.
"Who?" asked Ron stupidly.
"Tessa, you pratt!" Harry cried.
"I know you do," Ron said. "I'm just egging you on."
"Is it all right if I stay here for a little while?" Harry asked. "I'm not ready to go home just yet."
Ron sighed. "No problem, Harry."
The day before school began was a busy day in Diagon Alley. Hundreds of students crowded the narrow pavements, each entering various shops to purchase wands, robes, books and the like. Vendors selling everything from quills that would write in any color the writer wished, to autographed photos of famous Quidditch players had opened up impromptu shops on every corner. The heavenly smells of roasting chestnuts, piping hot chips and chocolate from the restaurants wafted on the breeze. The sun shone brightly in the blue sky as three very good friends made their way through the crowds. All in all, Harry thought, it's a great day to be out and about.
Harry had been away from Tessa for three days and was feeling much more comfortable with his familial situation. Pig had returned that morning with a note from Tessa indicating that she had received his note and to do what he thought was the right thing. I am a lucky man, Harry thought. How many girls would be as forgiving as Tessa was? It was amazing, he thought, what a couple of day's rest will do. With a smile, Harry thought that he would go back home that evening. It would be his last chance to do so for a while, what with school beginning the next day.
Harry, Ron and Hermione entered the bookshop and waved to a group of fellow Gryffindors who were leaving. The little group smiled widely at Ron and Hermione, but, unless Harry's imagination was playing nasty tricks on him, the smiles given to him were considerably cooler; they were almost nonexistent.
"Dear me, look at the prices of the books this year," Hermione said in dismay as she picked up a copy of Advanced Arithmancy and grimaced at the price tag. "I wonder if there are any used books in stock," she added, looking toward the section of the store marked "Used Texts." She looked to Ron's red face and knew that he was thinking the very same thing.
Harry's face grew pink. Conversations about money were ones that Harry generally tried to avoid; money was not an issue for him. Thanks to his parent's successful financial endeavors during their lifetime, they had amassed a small fortune and Harry knew that he would not have to want for anything, so far as money was concerned. Harry would have been happy to give some Galleons to Ron, so that he could buy books without having to resort to tattered seconds like he did in so many instances, but he knew that Ron wouldn't have taken the money under any circumstances. He silently went about his business of buying the texts that he was going to need for his classes. As he took his heavy stack to the till to pay for them, he brushed past a Gryffindor third year he could not recognize by name and smiled vaguely at him. The smaller student merely scowled.
What is going on? Harry wondered as he paid the cashier. Why does everyone seem to be in a rotten mood? Have I done something that I don't know about?
Harry's suspicions that fellow students were upset with him were confirmed without a shadow of a doubt when the trio walked into the Three Broomsticks later in the day. The small pub was packed with students. As soon as the patrons got a look at Harry, the noise level dipped considerably for several seconds, but soon enough the noise level went back to normal. Harry could feel the beginnings of a blush grace his features. He searched the room quickly, hoping to find somewhere at the back where he and his friends would attract less attention. In the far corner sat Neville Longbottom, Pavarti Patil and Dean Thomas, drinking butterbeers and eating chocolate frogs. Perfect.
Harry opened his mouth to call to them, but Ron beat him to the punch. "Oi Neville!" Ron shouted over the din of the busy establishment as he pulled Hermione along with him through the crowd. Harry followed closely behind. "Room for us?"
Neville looked to his three schoolmates with a smile, but the grin faded quickly when his eyes settled on Harry.
"There is now," he said quietly. "I'm leaving. I have to go buy a new cauldron." Neville stood up and brushed by the trio, his eyes on the floor. Pavarti and Dean didn't bother to even make an excuse. Mumbling hellos, the couple picked up their butterbeers and headed for the exit.
"What is the matter with them?" wondered Hermione as she watched the group exit the restaurant.
"I dunno. Neville said something about cauldrons," Ron said absently. He looked at the table, now completely empty. "Well, at least we have a place to sit." Harry, Hermione and Ron sat down at the table. As they did so, Hermione, the transcendent lover of anything having to do with studying launched into a conversation about class schedules.
"Looks like we all have Potions, Transfiguration and Defense against the Dark Arts together this year," she commented, giving Ron and Harry their class schedule. "Meanwhile, while you two are dealing with animals in Care of Magical Creatures and sleeping through Divination, I'll be taking Advanced Charms and Ancient Runes." She brushed a tendril of bushy hair that had escaped her ponytail out of her face. "Honestly, you two really ought to have put more care into the classes you chose at the end of last year. Where are classes like Divination going to get you in the real world?"
Ron shot a glance at Harry and rolled his eyes. "She's mental," he mouthed to Harry, who sniggered.
The waitress came over to the table in that moment and took their orders. All three ordered extra large tankards of butterbeer.
"So, Harry," Hermione said conversationally, "do you plan on playing Quidditch this year?"
Harry nodded. "Definitely. Why wouldn't I?"
Hermione reddened slightly. "I would have supposed that…you know, circumstances being what they are you might take the year off and focus more on your studies."
Harry's voice was low as he responded. "Hermione, I have a baby, I'm not dead. Quidditch is something I enjoy and I'm not about to give up on things I enjoy just because of a baby. Nothing's changed in that department."
"Yeah, Hermione," Ron added. "Give him a break! He probably needs Quidditch for relaxation!"
Ron's girlfriend shook her head at the boys' ignorance. "Oh what a tangled web we weave when we're incredibly naïve," Hermione paraphrased. "I would think by now, Harry, you'd have a concept of just how much work a baby can be."
"I can handle it," Harry assured her. "I handled it last year and I'll handle it this year."
"But Harry--last year you didn't have a baby to care for. Tessa was merely pregnant. And your marks weren't exactly superb. If I hadn't--" Ron shot Hermione a warning glance and shook his head. Hermione took the hint and stopped chatting mid-sentence.
At that moment, the waitress brought the trio their butterbeers. She smiled as she placed a foamy tankard in front of Hermione and Ron, but fiercely slammed Harry's down in front of him. She turned with a flounce and walked away before Harry could say anything.
Harry gripped his butterbeer in his two hands and frowned. "Have you noticed anything, er…off about the way people are treating me today?" he asked. Neither of his friends answered him, but Harry distinctly saw a look pass between the two. He decided not to press the issue.
The professors at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry sat in the staff room in small groups. Professors' Trelawney, Sinistra, Flitwick and Hooch occupied one table. Professors' McGonagall, Professor Vector, Professor Sprout and Hagrid occupied the other. Snape sat gloomily by himself in the corner, sipping a warm cup of coffee and scowling, as he was usually prone to do during staff meetings.
Staff meetings before the start of term were not unusual at all; Headmaster Dumbledore was rather fond of the get-togethers; he always hoped to garner unity amongst the staff. This year would obviously be no different.
Dumbledore walked into the room and, out of respect, his underlings stood up. Dumbledore gave them all a smile and motioned for them to take their seats.
"Greetings to all of you," he said with a smile. "I trust that your summers were productive?"
Some of the professors nodded in assent. One or two laughed lightly. Snape merely scowled.
"There are only a few items on my agenda today, friends, so I will make this brief," Dumbledore stated. "First of all, Hagrid, the heads of the bookstore have politely requested that you discontinue using The Monster Book of Monsters as the recommended text amongst the third year students. Two of their members of staff were attacked yesterday and suffered lacerations on their arms. Frankly the bookstore owner finds the books too dangerous to be kept on the shelves."
The gigantic man shook his head dejectedly. "They aren't dangerous if yeh know how to tame 'em. If I've said it once, I've said it a 'undred times, Perfessor Dumbledore sir, yeh have to stroke 'em! It'll calm 'em down," Hagrid said in a disbelieving voice. "Why is that so 'ard fer folk to figure that out?"
"Secondly, Mr. Filch has asked me to remind the heads of house that the list of Forbidden objects has grown to over six hundred items. A list is available in his office and he requests that you discuss this list in exhaustive detail with your charges."
"That list seems to grow by leaps and bounds every year," Professor Sinistra sniffed.
"I think that Fred and George Weasley were responsible for three hundred of those items," offered Flitwick in a tinny voice. The other faculty members nodded knowingly. Many were quite pleased that the boys had left Hogwarts after seven years of pranks. Professors began to chat amongst themselves about the various stunts the twins had pulled during their time at Hogwarts. This went on for several minutes.
Dumbledore folded his hands in front of him somberly. He cleared his throat and the noise died down.
"I have one more issue that I need to discuss with you," the Headmaster said in a solemn voice. "What I must tell you needs to stay within these walls. It concerns Harry Potter."
The Professors' interest piqued; all heads turned to face Dumbledore to hear what he had to say.
The Headmaster looked around the room with a serious expression on his face. "As all of you are aware, Mr. Potter found himself in a spot of bother last year," Dumbledore said. "He, er, made some less than prudent choices in behavior with Tessa Laughlin last year. As a result of actions on parts of both, Tessa became pregnant."
The staff nodded knowingly. This news was not new. Most of the professors remembered how withdrawn and incredibly morose Harry had been last year. Dumbledore continued.
"What I am about to say next is probably going to cause many of you to become upset. However, you must know that Harry married Tessa in a private ceremony in December. I performed the rites myself." Dumbledore dropped the bombshell. "Their daughter was born in June."
A gasp echoed through the room. "Harry's married?" asked Professor McGonagall incredulously. "You allowed this? You supported this? That's where Harry went over Christmas break…to get married? He's lived with this secret for almost nine months?"
"Yes," answered Dumbledore. "I felt, and Harry agreed, that his marriage to Tessa would help keep both her and the child safe from Voldemort. Those who support his cause are very upset with Mrs. Potter because she chose not to deliver Harry to him. Harry loves Tessa and his daughter deeply and is willing to go to any length to protect them."
"Professor Snape sat up and tapped his fingertips together. "I certainly hope that you don't expect us to go any easier on Potter because of his sheer stupidity, Professor. I refuse to treat him any differently than I would have before."
McGonagall turned to her colleague with a quizzical expression. "Certainly, Severus, under the circumstances even you would be willing to concede that perhaps a little more leniency--"
"No, I would not concede, Minerva. The boy has been astoundingly foolish and I refuse to pander to his idiocy."
"But surely with the knowledge that he has a child now--" Professor Sprout cut in.
"That is not my problem," Snape said smoothly. "He's made his bed and now he's going to lie in it. Allowing him concessions based on his ignorance of contraceptive devices will do him no good in the real world."
"I could not have said it better, Severus," intoned Dumbledore. "Harry's marital status and child do not allow him special favors as far as homework and testing is concerned. I would, however ask that you keep his marriage a secret. I have told you this information only to help explain why Harry will occasionally be leaving Hogwarts in the evening. He will be regularly visiting his wife and daughter. Due to circumstances being what they are, Tessa is in hiding and shall remain there until I deem that it is safe for her to resurface."
The professors nodded.
"The only students who know about the marriage are Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger and that's the way I would like it to remain for the time being. I don't think I need to explain that there are those in the Wizarding World who would love nothing better than to bring about Harry's demise. I do not see it beyond Voldemort's capabilities to try and get to Harry through little Abigail. The fewer people who know about the circumstances surrounding both the child and him, the better it will be. Can I trust that all of you will keep the secret?" Dumbledore was met with a few silent nods.
"It's going to be a long year for everyone," the old man said. "Keep your ears to the ground. If you hear anything concerning Harry or the well being of his wife or daughter, do not hesitate to find me immediately. Harry's lost enough loved ones in his life; I'd rather he did not lose any more." With that statement Dumbledore left the room.
As Tessa steeled herself to begin the task of washing the dishes, she heard the front door open, then shut again with a soft click. Startled, she wiped her hands on a towel and threw it over her shoulder and into the sink. She entered the archway into the family room just as the interloper was making to enter the kitchen. As a result, she and Harry ran straight into each other. Both voiced their displeasure at the same time:
"Damn it," Tessa shouted, rubbing her cheek where Harry's forehead had made contact. "That hurt!"
"Look where you're going!" Harry already had a large bump rising on his forehead.
Then the pair's eyes met and they simply stood before one another in stunned silence.
"Hello," Harry said finally, attempting to break the ice.
"Hello, Harry," Tessa answered him. Her statement was a short one, giving away nothing. Stiff and distant, she was choosing to keep up the barriers, at least for now. "What brings you here?" Please say you're coming home to Abigail and me, Tessa thought fervently.
"I…er…I left some things here the other night that I need for school," Harry muttered. "I'll just…go and get those things now." Despite his words, he didn't move. You're so pretty in blue, Tessa, Harry thought as he took in the sight of Tessa in her periwinkle robes. They were tailored to her figure perfectly, right down to the golden braided sash around her middle. He desperately hoped for Tessa to apologize to him for her words the other night. He wanted to come home to her so badly, but he wanted an apology first. He deserved one, he thought!
He is a fully-grown man now, but he still looks like a child, Tessa thought. His hair is getting too long; it needs to be cut. His robes are wrinkled: they need to be ironed. Despite these imperfections, a surge of warmth flowed through Tessa's body at the sight of him. Oh, Harry I want to wrap you in my arms and hold you so badly. I want to be with you…the way a wife is supposed to be with her husband.
"How are things at the Burrow?" she asked. "How are Ron and Hermione?"
"They're fine. How's Abigail?"
"She's fine. She just fell asleep."
Tessa looks so unhappy, Harry thought. She's still having the terrors; she's not saying so but I can see it on her face. She's more tired-looking than I've ever seen her and the black bags underneath her eyes are so dark. Why is she being so secretive with me? I want to sit down with her and let her cry on my shoulder. I want to bear some of her burden. Why won't she let me do that?
"Do you mind if I just go and check on her? I've missed her while I've been gone." Harry attempted a smile. It looked a bit more like a grimace.
Tessa sighed and closed her eyes. One, two, three…
"No one forced you to leave," she pointed out in clipped tones. Her first attempt at something other than sterile pleasantries caused Harry's face to harden.
"I didn't have much of a choice, Tessa," he spoke with measured calm.
"You bloody well did; you could have stayed with us. It's bad enough that you chose to walk away from me, but your beautiful daughter did nothing to deserve what you did to her." Tessa's voice was soft, yet strained. It was obvious that she was doing everything in her power to keep her anger in check. She turned away from Harry.
"You didn't want me around."
"I never said that!" and now Tessa's voice began to rise.
"It was implied."
Tessa chose to ignore Harry's last statement. She threw up her arms as she turned to meet his gaze once more. "Harry, things have been hard for me lately. I'm cramped in this house all the time with no one to talk to except for you and Abigail. I'll probably never know a truly free existence again." She walked over to the sink. She immersed her hands once again in the warm, soapy water.
Harry stepped towards her once again. "Trying to change the subject isn't going to work, Tessa. Not being able to leave the house is not the problem here and you know it. You weren't sleeping well and you refused to talk about it with your own husband."
"That too."
"You're still not sleeping well. I can see it on your face. I just wish you'd give me a little more credit. You married me because you said you loved me. Marriage means we're supposed to share the bad things together!" Harry yelled.
"I'm aware of what marriage is, Harry," Tessa said as she placed a clean plate on the draining board next to the sink.
Harry's next words were spoken with a quiet conviction. "I'm not very old, but I know what love is. You're not letting me do what I am supposed to do as your husband! I vowed to be a good one to you on our wedding day and I am trying so hard to do that, but you're not allowing it!" Harry's eyes were sad as he looked to Tessa. "Why?"
Harry's hurt expression tore at Tessa's heart. For a moment, she considered telling him everything. But then the mental image of her kissing Wormtail, her tongue in his mouth and his hands hot against her bare skin sprang to her mind and she shook her head against the temptation to come clean. She wanted desperately to forget the whole sordid mess, but she couldn't. She didn't think she would ever be able to forget it. Tessa pulled the plug in the sink. She stared as the water created a vortex, swirling clockwise as the water drained.
"Let's just drop the dreams, Harry. They don't matter. I'll get over them in time, I'm sure," Tessa said in a terse voice. "I'm tired of arguing about them."
"Fine," Harry snapped. He exited the kitchen and stomped up the stairs. Tessa heard the bedroom door open and Harry rummaging around in the drawers. Sighing mightily, Tessa threw her dishcloth over the sink's spigot and followed her young husband up the stairs.
"Are you home to stay, Harry?"
Not now, thought Harry bitterly. You've gone out of your way to ruin my attempt at reconciliation with you. "You know that term begins tomorrow, Tessa. It's probably best if I head over to Ron's, as not to arouse suspicion. I've stayed at his home until school begins for last few years. If I don't, it's going to look suspicious. Besides," he added as he piled underclothes into his heavy cauldron, "I'm not wanted here. You don't respect me." Harry evaded her eyes and continued to pile clothing into his cauldron. "I'm sick of being treated like a child."
Tessa frowned. "It's hard to respect somebody who's behaving like a complete git!" she said through gritted teeth. "As to you being a child, I'm going to call it as I see it. If it looks like a duck, waddles like a duck and quacks like a duck, then it's a duck!" Tessa folded her arms across her chest.
She looked at her husband contemptuously. "Things get a little heated for you; you don't get everything you want and then suddenly you decide that it's time to leave those people who need you the most!" Tessa scowled as she continued her angry rant. "You don't see me running from the problem. You may be an adult, Harry James Potter, but your behavior of late would be immature for a twelve year old!" At this point in Tessa's tirade, Abigail began to cry piteously in the next room. Tessa left the master bedroom for the nursery, tersely muttering something about having to take care of two children.
Harry was furious. He had enough problems to deal with without Tessa behaving like a royal bitch goddess. Harry had left the textbooks that he purchased in Diagon Alley at Ron's house, for which he was very grateful, considering how heavy his belongings already were. He grabbed the handle of his cauldron and pulled it as hard as he could toward the door.
As he struggled with the unwieldy bundle, he became aware of an uncomfortable silence in the house. He managed to pull his school things into the hallway, then stopped and rubbed his sore hands together. The house was still silent.
.
"Tessa?" Harry called. There was no answer. She's probably still pissed off with me, he thought, and just isn't answering. "Tessa? What's the matter now?" As if he didn't know, he thought glumly. Harry stepped into the nursery. He saw Tessa cradling Abigail in her arms, tears streaming down her face as she placed kisses on the baby's head. His heart softened despite his anger with his wife. He put an arm around her. "Tessa, I would have to leave tonight even if I weren't angry," he said softly.
"Don't leave, Harry," Tessa said as she looked to him. "Please don't leave Abigail and me again. I need you. I don't want you to be angry with me. I am sorry for what I said. It was unfair of me."
For a moment, Harry was sympathetic. "Tessa, I can't stay here. I have to stay at school. People are going to become suspicious if I'm not at Hogwarts all the time. The subject of those dreams of yours isn't closed in my mind and, at some point, we're going to have a frank discussion about them. But not now...not until you're ready. I don't want to leave you angry again, either."
"Let's sit down and talk, Harry," she said softly, not looking at him. She took Harry's hand and together the little family walked out of the nursery, downstairs and into the living room. They sat down together on the sofa. For what seemed like an eternity to Tessa the two simply sat together holding hands and saying nothing. She knew she needed to placate him, but wasn't entirely sure what to say. Finally, after carefully rehearsing a decent explanation in her mind, she opened her mouth.
"Harry, I love the fact that you've been so concerned for my well-being. It's rather sweet. You've asked me a good question in why I won't talk with you about my dreams earlier; it's only right that I give you an explanation. Harry--look at it like this," Tessa explained patiently. "If you had a terrible stomachache you might tell me that you hurt, but you wouldn't expect me to examine you and prescribe you medication or pain relieving charms, would you?"
"Well, no, I suppose not. I'd see a mediwizard. But what does that have to do with--" Harry began.
Tessa interrupted him. "If you tore all of the twigs off of your Firebolt, you'd probably share that with me as well," Tessa continued. "But you wouldn't expect me to repair it would you?"
"No way," Harry answered with a small smile. "I've ridden a broomstick with you before. Almost took years off my life."
Tessa laughed. She was deathly afraid to fly and Harry knew it. He had tried to take her for a ride once; the ride had been short-lived. She was petrified of heights.
"If I had problems with my broom, I'd take it straight to Quality Quidditch Supplies in Diagon Alley."
"Of course you would!" Tessa exclaimed with a smile. "My problem is much the same. I've told you that I am having problems with nightmares but I want to share my problem with someone who perhaps specializes in the cure, as it were." She took one of his hands in hers and squeezed it. "You are the love of my life, Harry, but I really want to talk to an expert about this. It's not a question of whether or not you understand the situation, you see? My choice to not tell you about them has nothing to do with your intelligence."
Tessa's explanation seemed to have a degree of merit in Harry's mind although he thought it was twisted logic at best. "Do you still want to see Dumbledore, then?" he asked.
"I do, Harry. I really, really do."
"Then do it," Harry said with a degree of sadness. "I want you to be happy. If you want to see him, you have my blessing. He's at Hogwart's. I will begin school and when I think it's safe for you to venture out of the house, I will owl you. I will come home and watch Abigail while you take my invisibility cloak so that you're not seen. You can go to Hogwarts and speak with Dumbledore."
Tessa was on cloud nine. "Do you mean it, Harry?" she cried as she threw one arm around Harry's neck and squeezed him so hard that he could barely breathe.
"I mean it," Harry answered as he put his arms around his wife. "If you think that Dumbledore can help you more than I can, go to him. But Tessa, remember that when the time comes, you cannot be seen."
"I will be careful, Harry. I will not be seen by anyone." Tessa smiled into Harry's shoulder. "You are the sweetest, most understanding man I have ever known," she whispered. "Thank you."
"Anytime," Harry answered. He kissed her cheek but could not help feeling somewhat slighted, despite her kind words that were meant to comfort.
Harry placed a gentle hand on his daughter's head. "I'm going to miss you, little Abbey Road," he whispered. "Take care of your mother for me and I will see you as soon as it's safe for me to do so." His eyes sparkled with delight as Abigail favored him with a tiny smile.
"She smiled!" Harry cried. "Did you see that, Tessa? She smiled at me!"
Tessa did not have the heart to tell Harry that she could feel that Abigail was filling her pants at that very moment and was probably "smiling" at him due to gas. Instead, she handed Abigail over to her father and said, "I think it's only fitting that you spend a few quality minutes with your daughter before you leave her for God knows how long." And I get a little bit of poetic justice, she thought wryly.
Harry eagerly accepted the child, then caught a whiff and immediately held his daughter at arms' length. "Dear God, she reeks, Tessa! What have you been feeding her?" Harry stood up and proceeded to walk back upstairs to the nursery. Tessa followed, laughing the whole way.
"What can I say, Harry? She's an overachiever."
"I shouldn't have to change her!" Harry complained. "I have to go!"
Tessa whistled innocently as she strode to the dressing table and reached into the bag of nappies and pulled out a fresh one. Handing it to Harry, she exited the room without a word.
This, Harry thought, was decidedly not fair. "What about stone, paper, scissors?" Harry called out. "Tessa? …Can't we talk about this? Come on…Hello? Are you even listening to me?"
The only thing resembling an answer that Harry got was the sound of Tessa's laughter from the stairwell.
Harry looked to his daughter with a grim expression. "We'll show her, Abbey Road. Daddy's going to flick his wand and you're going to be clean and dry." He reached into his robes for his holly and phoenix feather wand with a smile, which turned very quickly into a frown. His wand was not in his robes!
"Tessa!" Harry called out. "Tessa, have you seen my--"
Tessa sighed as she walked back up the stairs and stepped into the doorway with a devilish little grin on her face and her hands behind her back. "Whatever is the matter, Harry?" she asked as innocently as she could.
"Do you know where my wand is? I want to use it to change Abigail!" Harry looked desperate.
"Harry, I am appalled that you would choose to use magic to change the baby's nappy. This is supposed to be daddy-daughter time and I'll not have you taint the bonding time that you have the potential to share because you're scared of a little pooh!"
"This has nothing to do with a fear of a little pooh!" Harry cried indignantly. "This has to do with being afraid of something vile, evil and disgusting...a lot of pooh!" With a large sigh, Harry walked Abigail over to the dressing table and began to undress her.
"I can't believe that these words are coming from the Boy Wonder who saved us all from the Dark Lord," Tessa said sardonically. "Thanks be to God that Voldemort is potty-trained, otherwise what would we all have done?"
"I can fight Voldemort with a wand," Harry said pointedly.
"And you can change Abigail without one," Tessa retorted as she left the room. She closed the door behind her and snickered. Harry's wand rested in her left hand. If you're going to leave tonight anyway, the very least I can do is give you something to remember your daughter by, Tessa thought with a chuckle.
Harry's first day back at Hogwart's did not start well.
From the second that Harry stepped back into the hallowed halls of the school, he knew that something was amiss. The bad feelings he had felt in Diagon Alley the previous day came back to him in a rush as he could not help but notice that people were treating him differently. Hufflepuffs merely looked at him and shook their heads sorrowfully; Ravenclaws walked past without a second glance, with the notable exception of Cho Chang who gave him a wave and a smile. Most students seemed to think that he was invisible and the Gryffindors (save for Ron and Hermione, of course)--his very own housemates--could barely bring themselves to grunt hello.
Ironically, the only house that seemed to want to acknowledge his presence was Slytherin. Several members of Slytherin house, led by a triumphant-looking Draco Malfoy sauntered down the hallway in Harry's general direction, their swaggers pompous and their heads held high.
"Look who we have here!" Draco called out nastily so that others in the corridor could hear him. "If it isn't the one person solely responsible for Slytherin's Quidditch Cup victory last year…the infamous Harry Potter!"
"Ignore him, Harry," Hermione advised. "He doesn't know what the circumstances were!"
"You know, for ten knuts, Malfoy could have been prevented," Ron said in a sullen voice. Harry couldn't help but laugh at that.
"At least my parents could afford birth control," Draco said with an evil glare. "Your kind should have been fixed a long time ago."
"Ron is worth twenty of you, Malfoy!" spat Hermione.
Draco merely ignored Hermione's comment. "Thanks again, Harry, for the cup!" Draco continued. His boulders of friends nodded dumbly.
Harry turned to his friends. "Well, at least now I know why everyone else is treating me like dirt!" He scowled. "I just thought that maybe they'd forgotten about it by now."
"What sort of fantasy world do you live in?" Ron asked. "You were the most hated student in Gryffindor House the entire last week of school. Throwing the match cost Gryffindor the Cup!"
"I…er, had a good reason, Ron," Harry said.
"Well I know that, and you know that, but do they?" Ron asked as he pointed to a group of Gryffindors who passed without looking at the trio as they headed for Divination. Ron shook his head. "They know nothing. From their perspective you threw the game, simple as that."
Harry sighed. "But I didn't!"
"As your best friends, Hermione and I had to withstand the brunt of their frustration. It wasn't pretty," Ron informed him.
"I'm sorry, Ron," Harry said in a tired voice. "I didn't have a choice."
"As bad as it sounds, until it's safe for Tessa to come out of hiding and you can freely share your, er, status as a married man, you're going to have to live with their judgement. It's not going to be easy," Ron said, "but you'll have Hermione and me."
Harry shook his head slowly. "It's going to be a long year," he mused aloud. "Is it normal for a person's bones to ache when they're my age?"
Ron shrugged. He and Harry said goodbye to Hermione, who had Arithmancy class next, and made their way to the long ladder that would take them up and into the tiny classroom they dreaded almost as much as the potions dungeon.
"Remind me again of why we take Divination?" Harry asked his best friend.
"Because we were too lazy to actually put some thought into our class choices," Ron said with a sigh.
Harry climbed up the ladder that led to Professor Trelawney's classroom. As he pushed the trapdoor up so that he could climb into the room itself, his nostrils were assailed with the overly pungent aroma of roses, incense and a smell that Harry couldn't identify exactly, but he remembered having smelled it coming from his cousin's room on Privet Drive. His eyes began to water. As quickly as he could, Harry headed for the back of the classroom, where the only window was. He settled himself on a bright blue pouf and saved another one for Ron, who looked as if he were going to be ill.
"Open the window a crack, Harry! I can barely breathe in here," Ron said, gagging.
The rest of the Gryffindors slowly made their way into the classroom. With the exceptions of Lavender Brown and Pavarti Patil, both ardent supporters and worshippers of Professor Trelawney and All Things Divination, the other Gryffindors followed Harry and Ron's lead and tried to find seats as far away from Professor Trelawney's desk as they possibly could.
"Welcome, Gryffindors, to your first Divination class of the term," Professor Trelawney intoned in her normal airy voice. "We shall begin this year's work with the study of Dowsing, as my Inner Eye tells me that all of you are woefully lacking in its understanding. Alas, it is my sad duty to report that one of you shall not grasp the concept well enough to earn a passing grade and will be forced to repeat the term next year."
Professor Trelawney shook her head sadly at the thought, her huge golden hoop earrings catching the light in the room. The combination of the light from the earrings and her bug-like eyes behind her thick glasses made her look not entirely unlike a huge firefly from the neck up, Harry thought. He suppressed a chuckle.
As Trelawney made this prediction, several members of the Gryffindor contingency turned their heads sharply in the direction of Harry and Ron. It was no secret that since the professor had predicted Harry's death during his third year, the boy wizard was not enamoured with the woman. It also went without saying that, if Harry did not care for her, then neither did Ron. If anyone was going to fail the class, then certainly it had to be Potter or Weasley. The boys flushed pink at the attention.
Professor Trelawney placed a large ordinary-looking cardboard box on her desk. From the box she withdrew an L-shaped piece of wood and a Y-shaped piece. She also withdrew several metal coat hangers and plastic straws. The final object she took from the box was a silver chain with a pink crystal attached to it.
"The art of Dowsing dates back many centuries. We are not certain exactly where and when it began for certain, but archaeological excavations and pictorials found in Egypt and China from 7,000 years ago show that Dowsing was being used as far back as that time period. Dowsing did not make an appearance in Europe, so far as we know, until the Middle Ages."
It has to be over one hundred degrees in here, Harry thought as he sucked on the tip of his quill. Harry knew that he could not afford to be remiss about his studies this year just because he had a new baby and a hormonal wife, so he tried very hard to pay attention to what the professor was saying, but it was difficult. Only ten minutes into the class, beads of sweat were already forming at the base of his neck and trickling slowly down his back. It tickled. He tried to ignore it as he dipped his quill into his bottle of ink and began to take notes.
"Dowsers, the proper term for people who practice the art of dowsing, look for all kinds of things. Water is usually the primary thing they are trying to locate, but dowsers also can search for oil, hidden metal, minerals, treasures and even people who are lost. Many skilled witches and wizards earn a good living by means of dowsing, even in the Muggle world. It is one of the few divination skills that many Muggles appear to accept."
Professor Trelawney picked up the L-shaped stick and held it up for the class to see. It was unremarkable, save the shape. "A person can use many different objects to dowse and be successful. One of the more popular dowsing objects is an L-rod."
Ron inclined his head so that he was very close to Harry. "Heh heh," he spoke in a low voice, "she said rod!" Harry suppressed a guffaw of laughter.
"These rods can be made of just about any material: copper, silver, and even wood. This particular piece is made of beech wood, although apple and alder have been used often as well. When you are using L-rods to dowse with, you will need two. I shall explain why in a moment. The rods, traditionally known as 'Wishing Rods', are formed into an L shape."
She passed the L-rod to Dean Thomas, who gave it a cursory glance before he passed it to Neville Longbottom. Neville passed it to Harry, who couldn't understand how a piece of wood was supposed to help one find something. The stick wasn't impressive, and didn't look like it would be good for anything besides being an old man's walking stick. He passed the rod to Seamus Finnegan.
"When one dowses, it is imperative that they grip the smaller of the two angles of the rod or they will not get the results they wish for."
At that very moment, Seamus Finnegan passed the L-rod to Ron, who was now sniggering without shame at his sexual innuendo. "See, Harry? You've got to grip the rod," Ron voiced, running his hand provocatively over the smooth wood. "Otherwise you won't get what you wished for! I've got to let Hermione know about these," he said with a sly grin.
That did it. Suddenly the male members of the Gryffindor house who were within earshot of Ron's remark burst into laughter. The girls, who were focused on their professor's lecture, had not heard the off-color remark, looked at them quizzically.
Unfortunately for Ron, Professor Trelawney had heard it. She walked to the back of the room and took the L-rod from the red-faced boy. "Unless it is your desire to complete a star chart for every classmate in your year, I would thank you to keep your crude remarks to yourself. Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley."
Ron mumbled an apology and the class continued.
The professor picked up a second L-rod and continued with her lecture. "Let me see…where was I? Ah yes, now I remember! When dowsing with L-rods, you will need to use two. Let us say, for the sake of demonstration, that I am looking for water. I would pick up both rods, being sure to grasp the smaller of the two angles and point them in the direction I think the water is." For emphasis the professor held up both rods in her hands, parallel to the floor. "As I near what I am looking for, in this case, water, the rods will begin to vibrate in my hand and when they're over the water, the sticks will cross." Professor Trelawney began to walk very slowly toward a basin of water that rested on a nearby table. As she got closer to the basin, the sticks indeed began to vibrate with a low hum. Pavarti and Lavender nearly fell off their poufs in their excitement. When the sticks were positioned over the basin of water they crossed, just as the professor said that they would, and both girls clapped enthusiastically. Professor Trelawney flashed a delicate smile in their general direction.
Harry was less than impressed with the display. It would have been far more interesting, in his opinion, if the old bat had actually found water that was hidden. Wisely, he kept his comment to himself.
"Y-rods are also used for dowsing purposes, as are pendants." Professor Trelawney picked up her silver chain with the pink crystal attached and held it up for all to see. "This pendant acts like a pendulum, which map dowsers use to look for people. We shall discuss this in more depth next week. For this week, your assignment is to construct your own set of dowsing L-rods using materials with which I will provide to you. I would also ask that you find a partner and have them hide something from you. You must then see if you can find it using your L-rods."
With this statement, Trelawney proceeded to hand out two metal hangers and one drinking straw to each student. Once everyone had their materials, the professor gave directions on how to make the rods. "Cut off the long wires at the bottom of the hangers, and bend one end about four inches, so that it makes a right angle. The small end is your handle, and the longer end is the pointer. Fit your drinking straw over the handle."
Seamus Finnegan raised his hand. "What's the straw for?"
"I knew that somebody was going to ask that question," Professor Trelawney said with a smile. "Can anyone venture a guess?" She looked about the room and was met with fifteen sets of confused eyes. Finally Pavarti Patil raised a hesitant hand.
"Wouldn't we use straws to allow the rod to swivel freely without being affected by our hand movement? I would think that a sleeve of some kind would ensure a more accurate dowse," she finished in a questioning voice.
"Excellent answer, Miss Patil. I could not have said it better myself," Professor Trelawney said with a smile. "Five points to Gryffindor!" Pavarti beamed.
The rest of the class passed fairly uneventfully, if you didn't count Neville's complete inability to follow directions, which left his hanger twisted and utterly useless. Professor Trelawney merely pressed her fingers to her temple, closed her eyes and shook her head slowly before she gave him another hanger to work with.
The bad thing about sitting next to the window in Trelawney's room, Harry discovered, was that you were going to be the last student out of the chamber when class finally ended. He tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for all of the other students to make their way to the trapdoor that led to fresh air and freedom
"What have we got next, Ron?" he asked the red headed boy.
"Potions," Ron answered miserably. "This day just goes from bad to worse, doesn't it?"
Harry nodded affirmatively as he made to open up the trapdoor and climb down the ladder. A light tap on his shoulder stopped him. He looked up and into the eyes of his Divination Professor.
"May I see you for a moment, Harry?" she asked.
Harry shot Ron a questioning glance. Ron shrugged his shoulders.
"I'm going to be late for Potions," Harry said, his voice uncertain. Ron nodded in agreement.
"How are your wife and child?" the professor asked in a kind voice.
Harry's blood seemed to freeze despite the heat in the room. "How did you know--"
"It's not always pleasant, Harry, having an Inner Eye. Sometimes the Fates tell me things that I wish I didn't know…sometimes terrible things. It leaves me in rather a quandary…do I tell what I have seen or do I let nature take its course?" she asked rhetorically.
Harry fought the urge to turn around and leave immediately.
"That, and your wedding ring is hanging out of your shirt."
Harry looked down at his chest and saw, much to his horror, that the professor was telling the truth. Had anyone else seen the ring? If so, did they know his secret?
As if Trelawney knew what he was thinking, she said, "I doubt it, Harry. But I would be much more careful about concealing your ring in the future."
Harry reddened as he placed the ring underneath his shirt. "Thank you," he said.
"Don't thank me just yet, Harry. I just wished to save you some trouble. I have seen that there are a number of disturbing things in your future for you to deal with without adding one more."
Harry didn't know what to say to that. He stared at the professor and waited for her to continue. Several seconds passed. She's going to milk this for all it's worth, isn't she, he thought with a slight shake of his head. Fine, I'll play to her. "Well? What do you know that pertains to me exactly?" Harry asked.
Professor Trelawney looked at Harry as if she had just witnessed a kitten being kicked. "Heed the warning in the letter."
"The letter?" Harry scratched his head. "What does that mean?"
"This is just it, Harry. I have absolutely no idea. I was hoping that perhaps you could tell me," Professor Trelawney said in a defeated-sounding voice. "This is the information delivered to me by the Fates. I consulted your cards this morning, hoping to discover some elaboration on the statement but was unfortunately unable to detect anything else."
"Did you see anything else I should know about? I mean, besides the business with the letter?" Harry asked.
The waspish professor looked at Harry sorrowfully. "I think that you should go to your Potions class now. Professor Snape is going to be dreadfully angry that you're late already," she stated.
"You saw something else, didn't you?" Harry asked. "What did you see?"
"You don't want to know, Harry. It's best that you don't," Trelawney said in a sad voice. "Sometimes it's better not to know what the future holds, because you still have the power to change things, and—"
"What did you see?" Harry asked again. He was becoming more livid with each passing second.
Professor Trelawney sighed.
"I saw a child…"
"I already know that I have a child," Harry said in an irritable voice. "Why is this news?" he asked peevishly.
Ron smiled at Harry's statement. Harry put on a rather good show of acting all upset about this, but Ron knew how proud Harry was of Abigail. He talked her up almost constantly when others were not around.
"I saw a child…a child who initially will bring you the utmost joy, yet the child is not…hmmm… " Trelawney looked up at the boy wizard and sighed. "The child is not…uh…the child is not…"
"Not what?" Harry asked.
Professor Trelawney looked at Harry with large, spooky-looking eyes. She glanced first at Ron and then at Harry. "Uh…Harry, dear…the child is not…is not…a girl. That's right!" she smiled as if pleased with something that Harry did not understand. "The child is not a girl!"
Harry snorted. "That was the big prediction? You really need to work on your technique, Professor. I have a daughter. I think I would know if she was a boy." He turned away from Professor Trelawney and opened up the trapdoor. To Ron he whispered softly, "I'll give her extra points for originality, though. She really had me wound up for a minute," he said as he beckoned a flabbergasted Ron to follow him down the narrow ladder that led to the main corridor below.
When the trapdoor closed behind the pair, Professor Trelawney sighed. She should have taken more points away from the boy for cheek, she thought with a grimace, but if the Fates had informed her correctly points would be the very last thing on Harry's mind soon enough. She didn't have the heart to tell him what she really saw; she didn't know how badly he would have taken it. If giving Harry an inaccurate prediction and becoming the butt of his jokes for a few days was the price she would have to pay, then so be it. She didn't want to be the person who was going to have to tell him the terrible news.
Of one thing however, Professor Trelawney was certain; she needed to speak with the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry right away.
"I suppose you're wondering why I've called you all here," said the Minister of Magic in a mysterious voice. He took a sip of his ever-present cup of coffee and cleared his throat. His best Aurors stood around the desk and looked confused.
Cornelius Fudge pushed his chair away from the mahogany desk and stood up. He rifled through a pile of papers in his 'IN' tray with the hand that wasn't holding the coffee and procured a small index card with some words printed on it. "I've asked you here because of this," he announced as he held up the card. "Do any of you know what this is?" He paused and waited for an answer. Finally a balding man with several medals of commendation on his robes spoke up.
"I believe, sir, that you're holding a birth announcement."
"Excellent, Warrington. Years of Auror training and field work have served you well," Fudge said with a smile. Warrington and the other Aurors looked at each other nervously. They didn't know whether they should laugh at their boss' statement or keep up their sober appearance. A couple of the agents looked at their shoes; one cleared his throat.
Thankfully, the moment was short lived. Fudge turned away from the small group, placed his hands behind his back and walked to his picture window. He looked outside for a moment. "I pride myself," he said, "on keeping things peaceful in the Wizarding community. Wherever Dark Magic presents itself, I immediately send out a team of Aurors to squelch the problem…eradicate it if necessary." He nodded to himself. "Yes," he continued. "As long as I have been Minister of Magic, the Dark Forces that once threatened our peaceful existence have been kept at bay and that's the way I wish it to remain."
More than one Auror cringed slightly at this statement. The general consensus on the street was that the law-abiding citizenry was becoming more and more concerned that those who supported the Dark Lord and what he stood for could lead a coup at any time.
These fears were exacerbated by the events of the Triwizard tournament that had been held at Hogwarts the year before last. Since Harry Potter had met up with the Dark Lord (who had attained a new body, but this was classified information--most of the general public did not know this little detail) rumors had abounded that it was only a matter of time before Voldemort became hugely powerful once more.
The Minister turned sharply to his underlings and placed the index card on his desk. He pulled his wand from the top drawer and held it in his left hand while tapping the palm of his right hand with the tip in an almost impatient manner. "There was one person who escaped me this past year," he stated in a soft voice, "and that person was Tessa Laughlin. At least, that's what we've thought all this time. It turns out that Tessa Laughlin no longer exists."
"Did she die, sir?" asked Warrington. "Has her body been discovered?"
"No, Warrington. To the best of my knowledge, the woman is still alive. However, she is no longer Tessa Laughlin. Gentlemen, it appears as if congratulations are in order for the Hero of the Wizarding World. It appears as if Harry Potter has recently become a father. Harry Potter is a father, and the traitor Tessa is the mother of his child."
A collective gasp echoed throughout the room. One of the other Aurors whispered, "It can't be…Harry Potter, a father? He's only sixteen!"
"Seventeen, Stebbins," corrected Fudge. "He turned seventeen mere days ago. And the rumors are true. He has a daughter, born on June the fourth. Her name is Abigail Rose and the mother's name is Tessa Potter. It seems that our young Hero made an honest woman of her and married her before the child was born." The short man bristled at the thought and, without any warning, he slammed his wand onto the desk.
"Laughlin and Potter made this entire Department look like a bunch of incompetent morons!" cried Fudge. "Meanwhile, they're out there somewhere playing house and thumbing their noses at us. I hear the voices on the street. 'Let Tessa go free--she's atoned for her sins'. Never mind the fact that she very nearly sold out Potter to Voldemort!"
"But Harry apparently loves her if what you say is true," advised another Auror. "Wouldn't it be best to just leave the couple alone? I--I mean, public opinion is strongly in Ms. Laughlin--excuse me, Mrs. Potter's favor. And public opinion and confidence in the Ministry being what it is currently, sir--"
Fudge was around his large desk and standing before the unfortunate Auror in less than three seconds. "What, pray tell, are you suggesting? Do I hear the beginnings of a plea to spare the traitor a life sentence in Azkaban? Does nobody recognize that the girl very well could have brought the entire wizarding world to its knees in one night of heated passion?" Fudge grabbed the man by his robes and shoved him hard. The tall, brown-haired man stumbled backwards a couple of paces and regained composure.
"I have a duty as the Minister of Magic to bring those who seek to destroy the peace we've worked for all this time to justice. Tessa Laughlin-Potter is no different to any Death Eater we've managed to capture. I repeat for emphasis, she is no different." His voice was harsh and his eyes flashed with malice, as he looked each of his subordinates in the eye. "Forget that she is Michael and Sierra Laughlin's daughter. Forget that she's captured the heart of a mere child. Children are easily swayed; easily led by those they trust." For a moment the face of Albus Dumbledore loomed in Fudge's mind, which left a bitter taste in his mouth. He didn't doubt for a second that Albus had played a significant role in the young wizard's decision to wed the criminal. Fudge flicked his wand and muttered, "Aparecium Tessa Potter." A large photograph of the woman appeared in thin air. It was a photo of Tessa taken with her parents. She was wearing a set of soil-streaked green robes and holding a trowel in one hand and a potted plant in the other. She waved cheerily at the camera.
"Tessa Potter is officially Public Enemy Number One. I want her captured and the kiss to be performed as soon as it can be arranged. The Wizarding world deserves to sleep a little bit safer and we're going to make that possible."
"Where is the woman hiding?" asked Stebbins.
Fudge walked back around his desk and picked up the index card. "It seems as if someone close to the couple--Dumbledore, I believe, though I cannot prove it--has placed protective wards and concealing charms around newlyweds' domicile. The enchanted quill in the Department of Magical Births was unable to pinpoint a location."
"Then how are we to--" began Stebbins.
Fudge waved him silent. "I plan a different approach in finding Tessa." He paced behind his desk as he talked. "To get to the mouse, one must first find the cheese…and the cheese has recently begun his sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
"There's no way that Dumbledore is going to allow any of us to question Harry Potter," Warrington challenged. "Harry has already been tested with Veritaserum and passed with flying colors. We're not going to be allowed within fifty feet of him."
Fudge's thin lips curled up into a smile that on anyone else might have been attractive; on him it merely looked like a contemptuous sneer. "You, perhaps not. However there is one amongst our staff who can." Fudge pressed a red button on his desk. "Andrea, send in the young Weasley."
The door to Fudge's office opened and a nervous looking Percy Weasley stepped into the room. He had no idea what he was doing there. He just knew that his boss had summoned him from a fascinating meeting on the specifications for the newest potion vials to advise him of something important and he wasn't about to miss that!
Percy was quite honestly a bit surprised that several highly decorated Aurors occupied Fudge's office. What were they doing here and what did they have to do with Percy?
"You summoned me sir?" Percy asked, his voice an octave higher than he would have liked. The incident with the coffee was still fresh in his mind and Percy looked to the empty mug cautiously.
Fudge smiled at Percy; a fake smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Young Weasley," he said brightly, "I've taken note of all the hard work that you do here at the Ministry. Your tireless efforts in the promotion of continuity of cauldron bottom thickness haven't gone unnoticed by this employer," he complimented. "Congratulations, Percy, on a job well done."
Percy blushed scarlet. "Thank you, sir," he gushed taking the proffered hand in his own and shaking it. Just wait until my moronic brothers hear about this, he thought with no false modesty. That will teach them to take my job a little bit more seriously!
"I'm of the understanding, young Mr. Weasley that you're looking for a little extra money for a Christmas gift for a certain Reference Librarian downstairs?"
"Why y--yes, sir. How did you know that?"
"How I know is really no concern of yours," Fudge said simply. "You've chosen well in Penelope Clearwater. Lovely girl, if you ask me. You know, Percy--" he paused. "Can I call you Percy?" he asked. Without waiting for an answer from the young man (who was nearly wetting himself with delight. Fudge knew his name!), Fudge continued to talk. "You're going to want to buy her the very best, and the very best is costly. How would you like to do some top-secret work for the Ministry for let's say one thousand Galleons?"
"Of course I would!" Percy was on cloud nine. He hadn't been so pleased with life since the day he found out he was to be Head Boy at Hogwarts.
The Minister of Magic beamed at his protégé. This was going to be too easy. "Let me fill you in on the plan, Mr. Weasley…"