"The Prophecy Undone"

Chapter 5 - The Past is a Painful Place...

Photographs in frames, clothes, books and other personal touches started appearing all over the cabin wherever the shimmering light danced. Subtle changes happened to the furnishings and various personal items such as travelling cloaks hanging on hooks and brooms by the door started to appear; as if the cabin's owners were reasserting their occupancy.

"Harry, what's happening?" Ginny sounded wary. Harry had almost forgotten she was still standing there, so intent was he on finding out what this room was trying to show him. He knew that there was a point to all this, he just had to figure it out.

"It's ok Ginny", he said soothingly, moving back to her side. "Don't worry. It's going to be ok. This is a good place – I can feel it. Let's just see what happens." Harry didn't entirely believe it, but he was too curious to leave and he wanted to stop Ginny leaving at all costs. He took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly and they stood back and leaned against the window ledge so that they could take in the whole room at a glance and not miss any new clues that might appear.

The place started to look lived-in and homely as more things appeared and settled themselves around the place. Pots, pans and other culinary paraphernalia now lay strewn around the small kitchen that was tucked away in a far corner; as if a meal had recently been cooked and eaten. Newspapers appeared on a sturdy low table next to one of the big couches. A baby's toy - a small wooden pull-along train that was moving in slow circles by itself - had also appeared on a previously bare patch of floor near the big fireplace which still blazed comfortingly.

Harry noticed that the light in the room had also changed somehow and turned to see that it was coming in from the window behind them. The seasons had changed outside and although the landscape was still largely snowbound, here and there large tufts of grass and spring buds poked out of the ground, stretching themselves gratefully towards the warm spring sun that now shone cheerfully down.

The shimmering seemed to stop abruptly and Harry warily stepped forward to examine some of the articles that had not been there a moment ago. He was particularly interested in the photographs on the mantelpiece as he thought they'd probably offer the most clues and stepped purposefully towards them to see what they contained. As he picked one up to inspect it, he nearly dropped it in shock -

He had to lean against the mantelpiece for a moment to steady himself as he thought he might otherwise collapse at any second. Ginny rushed forward immediately, exclaiming "Harry! What's wrong?" and put her arm around his waist to hold him up. Harry was still holding the picture up and staring fixedly at it, breathing heavily, his eyes wide from shock. Ginny looked at what he was holding and gasped. She'd seen a picture similar to this recently - Harry had shown her - and realised that this picture was of James and Lily Potter - Harry's parents! Furthermore, they were holding a baby. A baby who was undeniably Harry.

"Harry, why is all this here?" Ginny asked fearfully, her voice tremulous "Why is this room showing you your parents?"

"I don't know" said Harry, his voice suddenly croaky "but I know I'm not leaving here until I've found out." he said determinedly.

Harry's other hand came up and gently caressed the image of his Mum and Dad cradling him lovingly and smiling joyously as they proudly held him up for the camera. The baby that was clearly him (although without the distinctive lightning bolt scar on his head yet) was chuckling gleefully at the camera - probably laughing at Sirius whom Harry imagined must have taken the picture. All of them blissfully unaware of the horror that awaited them not long after this picture must have been taken.

He stared hard the happy scene for a moment longer and swallowed the lump that had come up into his throat before putting the picture back gently and then peering at the others arranged around it on the mantelpiece. Sure enough, there was one of Sirius grinning madly, but still looking young and handsome with a devilish glint in his eye. He was holding baby Harry against him with one arm and he must have taken the picture with the camera held at arms length in the other because the snap had a sort of improvised charm that showed it hadn't been posed. Harry was being jiggled by his godfather and they were both laughing madly, James and Lily were just visible in the background, smiling and holding hands, unaware that they'd been caught in the picture too. Most of these pictures looked like they'd been taken outside the cabin where it seemed they'd all gone to play with Harry in the snow.

Harry glanced around quickly at the other photos and with another jolt noticed a picture of what must have been his parents' wedding day. His eyes momentarily swam with tears as he saw how happy their faces looked; he watched for a while as James and Lily alternately looked into the camera and then back at each other with rapt expressions on their faces. He gripped the mantelpiece to steady himself and had to look away for a moment.

Harry had been given pictures before, by various people that had known his parents, but none of them had the intimacy and charm of these impromptu family snaps. He'd have given anything up until now to see a picture of him and his parents together like this - happy and carefree. He'd often supposed that pictures like this had no longer existed. After his parents' deaths and Sirius's incarceration, their home had probably been stripped for evidence by the Aurors (and modified so that any surrounding Muggles couldn't see the destruction); the remaining contents subsequently disposed of, or held at the Ministry in a vault somewhere. That is, what hadn't already been destroyed in the fight with Voldemort. By all accounts the house had been reduced to not much more than a pile of rubble.

Seeing these pictures of his parents now meant more to him than anything he'd ever seen previously. They seemed so real and tangible and made him feel like he really knew them. Like he still knew them. He closed his eyes... he concentrated hard and thought he could almost remember the day when most of these pictures had been taken; the tinkle of carefree laughter, the crisp tang of the frosty air, the crunch of the fresh snow underfoot as they played happily and the warm enveloping arms of his family enfolding him as he giggled with joy... But he knew that it was impossible and he was just wishing... Nevertheless, it still felt like it was the closest he'd ever got to being really near to his parents and feeling what their life together must have been like before it had been so cruelly ripped apart by Voldemort.

Harry staggered back and sank down onto one of the couches in despair. He leaned forward and sank his head into his hands. Ginny sat next to him and stroked his back, murmuring comforts that he didn't acknowledge. The topmost newspaper on the low table beside the couch caught his eye. The articles on the front page reminded him of the ones that currently appeared all over the Daily Prophet; warnings, bad news, and more bad news - reports of dark magic everywhere, horrific killings and the inevitable deadly advance of Voldemort and his evil followers. He looked at the date - it showed a day in April around sixteen years ago - roughly six months before Voldemort's deadly Halloween attack on Harry's parents.

Harry took a deep breath and looked up, but stared off distantly into the fire. "Ginny, I think I know where we are now. I know what this place is", said Harry flatly. Ginny had been sitting patiently and quietly next to him on the couch. Clearly at a loss to know what to do or say, she just comforted him gently by stroking his back and waited for him to continue speaking.

Harry continued to stare into the depths of the fire as if in a trance. "This is my parents' old house. This is where they used to live. Where we all lived..." his voice still had a flat dead tone, but was sounding stronger now. "I know this isn't where they died though. They were in hiding then. I know that much. They'd gone to some Muggle village. I think it was called Godric's Hollow or something. I'm sure I heard Sirius mention it at some point..."

He blinked and looked away from the fire, the trance broken. "I think they originally lived here and Sirius must have lived in Godric's Hollow - " He paused, trying to piece it all together before speaking again. His voice sounded more confident now. "I think Sirius must have persuaded my Mum and Dad to swap houses at some point when they knew they were in danger from the Death Eaters." He continued haltingly, "Just think; no one would expect them to do something as simple as swap houses if they were trying to go into hiding." Harry paused, then exclaimed "Yes! It explains Sirius's bike being outside just now - he definitely lived here at some point" he mused, as if thinking aloud. "I'm certain that's what this room is trying to show me." Harry said finally.

Harry got up and started to pace, putting his theory together as he went. "I'm sure that's what they did", he continued quickly, now with more conviction. "...and then when they cast the Fidelius charm so that no one but the Secret Keeper could find them, they ensured each other's safety! Voldemort wouldn't be able to see my Mum and Dad in Sirius's house, nor Sirius in theirs - not even if he pressed his ugly nose against the windows. The houses would just appear empty, as if they'd fled. They'd remain completely hidden, even right under Voldemort's nose! It would seem as if they'd all just disappeared off the face of the earth!" he finished triumphantly.

Ginny still looked like she was having trouble keeping up with these developments. Harry knew Ginny wasn't as up on all these events as Ron and Hermione were – they would have understood straight away, so he tried to clarify it as best he could. "Don't you see, Gin? pressed Harry. "That's why they switched to Pettigrew!" Harry was in full flow now and became more animated as he continued to explain. "I've wondered so often about why they might have done that, but it all makes sense now - the Fidelius charm in this case would only work if the Secret Keeper was a third party or they wouldn't all be able to stay hidden; they couldn't just swap houses and keep Sirius as my Mum and Dad's Secret Keeper. It would mean Sirius would still be visible and therefore vulnerable to attack at my parents' house. By using Pettigrew, who they believed they could trust with all their lives -" Harry broke off, a bitter look on his face as he remembered Wormtail's betrayal. "...they thought they'd be safe.." he finished lamely.

Harry seemed to crumple again as he stood there and the grim realization hit him all over again. Ginny jumped up and led him gently back to the couch, soothing him with platitudes as they went. Harry didn't hear her. He burned with anger all over again at the incomprehensible betrayal. How could any of the friends have ever guessed in advance what treachery Pettigrew would be capable of? It would be like Hermione selling-out him or Ron to Voldemort someday. It was unbearable to think of...

No wonder Sirius had immediately gone and hunted Pettigrew down when it had happened, Harry thought. It sounded like if he hadn't have done, then he'd have been a goner too, as Pettigrew had undoubtedly sold Sirius out at the same time. If Sirius hadn't have been tipped off about what had happened to James and Lily and gone on the rampage, he'd probably have been sitting here calmly in this house and Voldemort would have undoubtedly come for him next. As it happened though, everything had still worked out in Pettigrew's and Voldemort's favour, Harry thought ruefully. They'd still managed to destroy Sirius just as effectively as if he'd shared the Potters' fate; by pinning Peter's "murder" on him and thereby condemning him to twelve long years in Azkaban - disgraced, discredited and out of the way, with the weight of his friends' deaths on his conscience. A fate worse than death to Sirius.

Even though not much of the Room's revelations - other than the realisation of this house having been his parents' original home - had been news to him, Harry still couldn't get over the wretchedness and injustice of the situation, no matter how many times he had to face it. Every time he thought he'd put it behind him or somehow come to terms with it, he would be forced to relive the whole nightmare of his parents being taken away from him again. The hurt would never go away, the wound kept being ripped open. He hated feeling so helpless; he knew that there was nothing in the world he could do to change any of it...

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Chapter 6 - "Rage and Despair" to follow...

Hungarian Horntail - England, July 2005