The next morning, as Harry and Benton entered the library, Harry felt he had left a part of himself sleeping in the dormitory. He wished the part of him that was here could go back and all of him could go to sleep forever. Then he realized that he did not really want that. He did not want to continue feeling like this and he didn't want to give into it.
"We probably won't need books," said Harry, forcing himself out of his torpor, "But we do need a quiet place." They sat down at one of the tables towards the back of the library.
"Cecelia told me you fear the color green," Harry said, trying to keep this very business-like, to stop his feelings of isolation from taking over.
"I told her that occasionally I am terrified of the color green, and, somehow, I am certain it has something to do with my parents' death."
"Right. Well … When I was younger, I used to try to remember the car crash my parents died in. I mean, they didn't die in a car crash, but that's how my aunt and uncle told me they died, so I believed it, and I tried to remember. All I could ever remember was someone laughing and lot of green light." Benton inhaled sharply.
"Green light?"
"Yeah. And, well, it turns out that the green light was part of a curse that was used to kill my parents and to attempt to kill me." Harry stopped talking, letting what he had said sink in.
"So you think someone killed my parents with that same curse? And maybe they tried to kill me too?"
"Well, really all I was thinking was that someone killed your parents, not that they tried to kill you, although it's possible. And it might not have been the same curse. It could've been another one, I guess. I mean, lots of curses use red light. So there could be more than one to use green light."
"Ok," said Benton, prodding him on.
"So, well, I guess what I'm thinking is that your parents were somehow connected to the wizarding world. Maybe they were a witch and a wizard. Or maybe they had family who was."
"My only living relatives were Cecelia and her mother," said Benton confidently.
"Oh. Well, still, they could've been connected in way. Why don't you try to remember, remember all you can about your parents and about the day they died. Were you there?" Benton shook her head.
"I can't remember, Harry. I was only a year old!" Harry leaned toward her.
"No," he said firmly, "I was only a year old when my parents died, but I do remember it." Harry recalled how, when the dementors had come near him, he had heard Lily Potter scream. Then realized something very important. "But I only really remembered it after coming in contact with dementors." Benton looked confused.
"What?" Harry looked excited.
"All we have to do is…wait, no. I was going to say all we have to do it find a boggart, but it only turns into a dementor for me. Although, it couldn't hurt to try. If that doesn't work, I don't know what we'll do, because we definitely don't want to seeking out actual dementors."
"Maybe I could use a Pensieve," said Benton helpfully.
"What?" said Harry, surprised that Benton knew that word.
"I saw Albus Dumbledore's Pensieve. He told me what it was. Maybe I could use one of those and we could look at my repressed memories." Harry stared in thought for a moment. He didn't understand how Pensieves or thoughts worked, but it seemed the best plan.
"All right. Can you get one? Tell me when you do."
"Ok."
Harry and Benton left for the Great Hall for breakfast. Benton went to the Slytherin table where Draco was sitting. Benton had things on her mind, too. Since the first week of school, she had been wondering something, and the birthday party last night had pushed her to mention it to Draco, actually for the second time.
"Draco."
"Hi, Benton," Draco said, as though greeting his little sister, very happy to see her.
"Remember what I said, the first day we met? That we look alike?"
"Yeah, I remember. It's cool isn't it? It's like, we can pretend to be brother and sister."
"Well … if we were with people who didn't already know us, we could. But, anyway, what I was thinking is that maybe we don't have to pretend. I mean, not that we're brother and sister, but, I mean, maybe we're related…." All of Draco's friendliness vanished, though he wasn't being nasty yet.
"Impossible. My family is completely, purely wizard."
"But, I—" And then Benton remembered something from her talk with Harry. "I think my parents might have been wizards." Draco stared at Benton, clearly flabbergasted.
"But you're a Muggle," he said sensibly, "You can't do any magic." Benton's eyes went to Draco's wand.
"We'll see." And she grabbed his wand. He didn't try to stop her, because he hadn't any idea what she was reaching for.
"Redere Incantatem," she said, vaguely waving the wand around. She didn't know what would happen. She didn't know if "redere incantatem" was a real spell. But she knew what she wanted to happen, without even having to think about it.
Two shapes appeared at the table. They looked human, but they were grey, like smoke. They looked shocked, then, when they saw Benton, happily surprised, and then they saw Draco Malfoy and looked confused and then angry, and then they disappeared. In all, they were there for about 4 seconds.
Draco took his wand back. He looked shocked.
"I don't know what you just did, but I guess you are a witch. And we look so much alike. We probably are related. We should ask my father about it."
Benton walked away from the table and out of the Great Hall and was not seen for the rest of the day.
