Sharing the Memories

David entered the small storage unit he had rented for the past sixteen years.  For a long minute he stared at the possessions.  The trunk, covered in dust.  His Firebolt in one corner of the small space. One box he knew contained all his old school clothes. Another held his old text books. Still another contained old tests, notes, and homework.

Finally, he sat down heavily on his old school trunk. In his hand, he held Courtney's reply to Harry Potter.

He was afraid to open it. Afraid she would want to know the truth. Afraid she wouldn't.

He glanced at his watch. He had received two unexpected appointment cancellations so he had a good three hours before anyone would need him. He had some time. He made sure his pager was on as well as his cell phone and then opened the letter.

Dear Mr. Potter,

I thank you for your prompt and polite reply to my inquiries.

To answer your question, I want to know. I have no doubt that it is horrible. I have no doubt that it is cruel.

But do you think wizards are the only ones who can be cruel? As I said before I am a Muggleborn. I have seen cruelty in the Muggle world that would match anything in the wizarding world.  A few summers ago, my family went on a vacation to America. While in Washington D.C. we visited the Holocaust museum there.

I got sick and threw up after being there. But I do not regret having gone. I think the goals of museum apply on a smaller scale to what happened to you. The past must be remembered. It must be examined and discussed for its implications on the present. I need to know in order to act as a responsible citizen of the magical world.*

That said, I hope you will tell me your story. Even if you do not feel comfortable now sharing it, I thank you for what you have told me so far.

I await your response.

Sincerely,

Courtney Barnes

David read the letter twice remembering the occasion to which Courtney was referring. She really had thrown up after the museum tour. Both he and Kathryn had been very sorry, fearing that they should have waited until she was older. Now she was saying she was glad she had gone.

David put the letter back in his pocket and thought for a few minutes. Then he slowly stood up and turned around to open his old trunk.

He rummaged through it looking for a few pictures, items and documents and, once he had found them, pulled out his old parchment and ink and quill sets.

It took him a moment to remember how to use a quill and inkwell (he was surprised that the ink hadn't dried up but then figured it must have been bespelled), soon enough it came back and he composed his reply.

~~**~~

Courtney grumbled as she received her grade back on her Charms quiz. How was she supposed to remember the charm was Wingardium Leviosa and not Wingardium Leviosia? There was practically no difference between the two! She stuffed the quiz in her bag and trudged to History of Magic.

"Hello everyone! Today we are having a surprise assessment." Professor Granger said when all the students were seated. "I want you to take out parchment and write exactly what you have found out so far about the person you decided to study." There were many groans but she just continued, "All of you should have at least found out a few things. It can just be a list of facts, or a full paragraph. I want to know you have been working on your project."

Courtney froze. What was she supposed to write? Everything she had found out so far was stuff she shouldn't know. She certainly didn't want to give away that she had a correspondence with Harry Potter!

In the end, she simply resorted to writing down what the Professor herself had said about Harry Potter in their first lesson. She didn't remind the professor that she already knew Harry had been framed for murder.  Quickly writing it down she turned it in and sat reading until the other students finished.  After Professor Granger collected everyone else's parchment, she launched into a lecture about the founding of the International Confederation of Wizards and its founding and why Liechtenstein had not wanted to be a member….

Courtney was glad when class ended. As nice and as good a teacher that Professor Granger was the subject still seemed to drag on forever.

She had some free time before dinner and so she put her things in her dormitory and went outside.  It was a surprisingly warm afternoon. It was gradually getting colder and this was probably the last nice day they would have before winter took a hold. The early October breezes rustled the brown and red leaves.

Courtney made her way to her favorite spot: the back stoop of the old hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Nobody else ever went back there. She wondered vaguely why the hut was there. It was old and abandoned-or at least she had never seen anyone inside-and, frankly, it was an eye sore. She shrugged to herself as she looked at a plot that could have once been a garden. An ancient dead stump with a large gouge in it, as though someone had just decided to bury an ax in the top, sat to the left of the garden just a few steps from the forest.

After twenty minutes she stood up and turned to the back door itself. She had yet to try and go in. Turning the handle she pushed open the door and walked in.

Light filtered through the windows casting a view on the dusty inside of the hut.  It was only one room. A fireplace sat along one wall with a large black cauldron. A bed with a bare mattress was in a corner. A dresser stood beside it.  A table and three chairs took most of the center of the room. Cabinets lined the wall above a water pump and sink.

An old rug sat by the front door.  It looked like someone or something had worn it very thin.

She hivered at the untouched feeling of the hut; she felt like she was intruding in someone else's place. She walked back out the door and closed it.

Deciding it was now time to make it back up to the castle for dinner, she walked around the cabin.  Rex fluttered over to her at that moment and presented her with a letter and a package.

Forgetting all about dinner she quickly untied the letter and package, thanked her owl quickly, and sprinted up to the Gryffindor Common Room where she eagerly opened the letter, setting the package aside until later.  She was surprised to find it written out on parchment, on several sheets in fact.

Dear Courtney,

I will have to break up my story into several letters as it would be too long and take too much time to write it all at once.

As I told you before I lived with my aunt and uncle. Aunt Petunia was the sister of my mother, Lily Evans. I however could never see how they could be sisters. I suspect Petunia was always jealous that Mum was a witch and had powers while she did not. Uncle Vernon owned a company called Grunnings which made and sold drills.  They had a son who was a few months older than me, named Dudley.  

For ten years my bedroom was the cupboard under the stairs at Number Four Privet Drive. They didn't believe I was worthy of a real room, while Dudley got two.

I was never physically abused, but I was neglected and belittled.

A few weeks before I turned eleven I started receiving strange letters addressed in green ink. Vernon kept destroying them and he kept me from reading…

The letter continued for pages chronicling the adventures during Harry's first year. She read about how Ron and then Hermione became his friends. She read about Hagrid's dragon Norbert (realizing finally that the old hut had been Hagrid's). She read about his confrontation at the end of the year.

In the envelope she also found a picture from his first Quidditch game, and his Hogwarts Letter in its original green addressed envelope.

By the time she finished reading, dinner was over and people were drifting back into the tower. She quickly stuffed the package into her bag so no one else would pick it up.

"Courtney? Why weren't you at dinner?" Angela asked.

"I got a letter. I wanted to read it."

"Well, aren't you hungry?"

Courtney's stomach gave a rumble and, laughing, she nodded.

"Come on then, Dad showed me how to get to the kitchens. The house-elves will be able to give you something."

Courtney followed her friend down to a portrait of a fruit bowl. Angela tickled the pear and a door knob appeared.

Entering they were greeted by a squeal of happiness from an aging house-elf dressed in some very strange attire.

The elf had on a maroon sweater and yellow pants. A bright green knitted hat sat atop his head, he wore one red sock, and one sock that had probably been black once upon a time but had been washed and patched so many times it was a multicolored gray.

"How can Dobby help the misses?" he squeaked.

"Courtney wasn't at dinner Dobby, she needs something to eat.

Dobby bounced on the balls of his feet and snapped his fingers. Three house-elves rushed out of nowhere and in twenty seconds flat had a plate with a bowl of soup a sandwich and a glass of pumpkin juice in front of Courtney, who was seated at a table.

"And," Angela said mischievously, "a little dessert for both of us?"

In eight seconds two slices of cheesecake sat on a table waiting for them.  Courtney ate her meal while listening to Angela's babble and when she finished it she and Angela both dug into their cheesecake.

"Thank you Dobby, thank you all!" Courtney said as she and Angela left the kitchen.  They hurried back to the tower to make sure they made it before curfew.

Later that night Courtney carefully packed the letter in her trunk with the first letter she had received (forgetting about the package in her bag). She wrote down a few questions she had on a separate piece of parchment and then went to bed.

At breakfast the next morning, an unfamiliar owl delivered a letter to her. She glanced at the handwriting on the front and her eyes widened. It was another letter from Harry Potter. She opened it and started reading it surreptitiously under the table.

Dear Courtney,

I find myself unable to concentrate on the things I need to do at the moment so I may as well do something productive and write to you.  Writing to you is difficult, reopening the memories that I buried years ago.  However, to my own surprise, I find I cannot hate the world for what it was then.  I cannot hate Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger for the children they were back then. Don't get me wrong, I never want to see their faces again. I never want to speak to them again. I have lived for sixteen years without them and I will live perfectly happily the rest of my life without them.  And I still hate them for what they did to me, but I cannot hate the eleven-year-old Ron Weasley who sacrificed himself on a life-sized chessboard. I cannot hate the eleven-year-old Hermione Granger who cowered in the bathroom, terrified of a troll.

I am remembering what was good. I don't want to though. Or maybe I do. I don't even understand it myself.

Anyway, the summer before my second year was one of the worst ever, mostly thanks to an over enthusiastic house-elf named….

This letter was even longer than the first one.  There was no way that Courtney could finish reading it before class started so she took it with her. She glanced ahead a little bit and noticed that this letter not only covered second year but also third year.

She continued reading during Defense against the Dark Arts while she was supposed to be reading up on the myths and truths about vampires.

Half-way through class Professor Black tapped her on the shoulder.  Startled, Courtney gasped. Sirius Black beckoned for the letter with a finger and she had to relinquish it. 

"Please stay after class." He said quietly so as not to disturb the other students.

Almost panicking at the thought of someone else reading one of her letters, Courtney couldn't focus on her text book. When the bell finally rang she almost had the urge to run out.  But she knew she had to get the letter back.

When all the other students had left, Professor Black closed the door and motioned Courtney to move up to the desk closest to his own. 

"When I give an assignment in class I expect students to follow my instructions. Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Barnes."

"Yes, sir." Courtney said staring at where the letter lay on his desk. Vaguely she thanked her lucky stars that he had not taken points off of her in front of everyone else or that he had not made a spectacle of taking the letter away from her as some other teachers might.

"Might I ask what is so interesting in a letter that you could not wait to read it at a more appropriate time?" Evidently, he had only seen the header and first line at most.

Courtney squirmed, "It was from a friend."

"How long has it been since you got a letter from this friend?" Professor Black asked.

Courtney mumbled her answer, knowing the professor would not be happy.

"I didn't catch that," he said patiently.

"A day," Courtney said a little louder.

"I see.  I will keep this for now," he picked up the letter and put it in a drawer.  He looked back up at her and, misinterpreting the expression on her face, said, "Do not worry, I am not in the habit of reading other people's mail. You can have it back at the end of term."

"But!"

"Miss Barnes, I suggest you get to your next class before you are too late."

"I need that letter professor!" she said desperately.

Professor Black raised his eyebrows at her.

"I said you can have it back by the end of term. And if you really want to know what your friend said then write back and ask and tell about your nasty old teacher who won't give it back. You should not have brought it to class Miss Barnes."

"But I can't ask him to write it all again! He might stop writing!" Courtney was close to tears.

Finally noticing how truly upset the girl was Professor Black said, "Calm down child. It is not the end of the world! What could possibly be this important?"

"I don't want to loose his trust Professor! I was so surprised when he replied to my letter that I didn't tell anybody in case he stopped."

"Who child? Is your father finally accepting the fact that you are a witch?" Sirius asked, remembering the statement of David Barnes the night he had come to explain the wizarding world to Courtney.

"No. Please, can I have the letter back?" she pleaded.

"Tell me why it is so important and I might."

"It's for my project for Professor Granger. You know on a witch or wizard. I need what is written in that letter for the project which is due before term ends."

Professor Black's face lost all color as he realized whom the letter had to be from.  He knew Courtney Barnes had been the lucky student to get Harry Potter. The handwriting on the letter had been vaguely familiar. Her talk of trust and that 'he' might stop writing….

"You're writing to Harry Potter?" he whispered in a strained whisper.

Courtney nodded miserably.

Professor Black sat back staring at Courtney.

"H…how did you…?"

Courtney sighed and answered "I don't know why he decided to write me back.  I just wrote to him out of desperation because there is no information on his anywhere. They don't say why he was sent to Azkaban in any of the books. The only reason I know is because Professor Granger told me right after I got my wand. They don't even tell us about the dementors guarding Azkaban.  I found that on my own. I decided to go straight to the source because it is obvious none of you will tell the truth."  Courtney's eyes widened as she realized what she had just said to a teacher.

Professor Black, regaining a little color, considered her words and nodded slowly. Then he cleared his throat, "I will not tell anyone else Miss Barnes. If you have any questions, you are welcome to ask me. I promise you I will tell you the truth. If Harry is writing to you, I have no doubt he will tell all of it anyway. And," he picked up a piece of parchment and started writing on it, "these are books with some specific references to Harry containing information that I'm not sure Harry himself knows. In my file cabinet in my office I have a collection of newspapers from the period that I know are neither in the library nor available for ordering from the publisher. If you stop by my office on Saturday I will allow you to peruse them."

He handed her the list he had written and then opened the drawer and took out the letter.  He gazed at it longingly for a moment and then handed it back to her.

"Miss Barnes," his voice was filled with emotion now, "I loved Harry and he trusted me. He didn't give trust easily, that came from his upbringing, and so when he gave you trust it was a big thing. I betrayed his trust, I betrayed the love he had for me. I betrayed the love I had for him.  I betrayed the trust his parents placed in me. Harry was my entire life at the time and I shoved him away without a second thought. For some reason he trusts you Miss Barnes. Cherish that trust."

He cleared his throat, "I will inform Professor McGonagall as to why you missed her class today. Just make sure you get the assignment. Let me know when you'd like to come around to my office. I wish you the best of luck with this project Miss Barnes. A lot of people won't be pleased with what you find out, but I, for one, am proud of you."

Courtney nodded and left, stuffing the list into her bag along with the letter.  Since, it seemed, Professor Black was excusing her from all of Transfiguration that day, she headed up to the tower to continue reading.

It took her almost an hour to finish the letter.  By then class was over and it was well into lunchtime. When she finally folded the letter back up and examined the other contents of the envelope she only had twenty minutes before her next class.

The first thing she pulled out was a newspaper clipping from an evening edition of the Daily Prophet talking about the flying car Ron and Harry had taken to school their second year.

Then there were pictures. There were quite a few in this one. There was Angela's dad burping slugs, Harry with a boneless arm, a diary being picked up from a puddle of red ink, and a group shot of Harry, Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, and Ginny all from second year.  There were even more from third year.  A picture of Harry flying his Firebolt proudly, one with Hagrid and Buckbeak, Professor Lupin banishing some object, the Whomping Willow brandishing its branches until a cat ducked under and hit a knot and froze it, Christmas morning with everyone smiling and waving-wearing Weasley sweaters, and Ron jumping around trying exasperatedly to catch his owl in a train compartment.

The first letter Harry had received from Sirius was there as well as the permission slip he had signed to allow Harry to go to Hogsmeade.

Courtney hurriedly put all the pictures back into the envelope, put everything in her bag, and ran off to join the rest of her year-mates in Potions.

Double Potions that afternoon seemed to drag on forever.  She managed to ruin her potion completely (though she didn't melt the cauldron, thank goodness) and get a zero for the day, but she didn't really care because she had just remembered the package that had arrived with the letter the night before. When class ended, she ran back up to her dorm and opened the package before anyone else could disturb her.

Out slid a smooth silvery Invisibility Cloak.

*I have never had a chance to visit the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, and that is to my shame because I grew up only two hours south of D.C. The information I know about the museum is from the website. What struck me is the goals of the museum, as described in the "For Students" section and that is what Courtney is referring to. This is what it said: "to remember those who suffered; and to reflect upon the moral, spiritual, and political questions raised by the events of the Holocaust, as well as to think about their own responsibilities as citizens of a democracy."

A/N. Grr, I re-read the letter to Harry and realized that Courtney really doesn't sound like an eleven year old. But I no longer remember what an eleven year old sounds like, so I guess she is just stuck sounding older in her letter…

Haha! Finally finished the chapter! Hope you liked it. You will se more of David in the next chapter. Sirius finally decided to cooperate and I found a way to get him in the chapter.