Disclaimer: It's all J.K.R.'s. I own nothing but the creepy exhilaration I experience while writing it.
Chapter 8: Unforetold
Ginny sat up sharply and saw she was, as usual, in her four-poster, lying simply to wait for the time when she returned to her body. Beyond thinking this, she did nothing but stand up and take off. She had to find him before he did something drastic. She raced through the school, trying desperately to find her way to where she had been only moments before. She rounded corner after corner, attempting to retrace his steps (finding it nearly impossible, as she hadn't really been paying attention to where he had been going at the time).
Ginny rounded the last corner and did a quick internal rejoice to see the yellowish glow radiating off the door. She slowly crept up to it, peering inside to confirm her suspicions that it was, indeed, the same one. She edged her hand inside the door, grabbing the formerly forgotten Invisibility Cloak, and slipped it on. She then slid inside the room, barely fitting between the narrow crack between the door and the wall.
Once inside, Ginny was careful to move slowly and noiselessly to one of the chairs alongside the wall, which she took a seat in, prepared to make a move any second to prevent anything that she, well, needed to prevent. She could no longer see what Harry saw in the mirror, but could hear him muttering softly under his breath, when all of a sudden his voice rang out in the room.
"NO!" he was screaming to the ones nobody but he could see, regretting everything that had happened to him, everything that he thought he had 'caused.' Amongst feelings of utmost regret, Harry pulled his foot back and sent it crashing into the mirror. Amid his wave of tears, the mirror then shattered. Harry turned away from the broken shards and ran from the room, leaving Ginny behind to watch.
Harry had long-forgotten about the Cloak and hadn't stopped to get it. He had just broken the Mirror of Erised. Dumbledore would kill him; he was sure of it. His face blotched with tears, Harry ran up and down corridors- not knowingor caring where he was going.
As he rounded one last corner, he saw people ahead. He didn't want anyone to see him like this: red-faced and angry, in a bout of fear. He didn't know how he got there, but Harry suddenly found himself staring at the door in front of him, a very familiar door… the door to the Room of Requirement.
Slowly, Harry turned the handle to let himself inside. But rather than the normal collection of defense books and other materials, there was a squashy armchair (much resembling those from Gryffindor Tower) in front of a warm, cheery fire. There was a mug of steaming hot chocolate, and some warm biscuits to match.
Grateful, Harry walked over and sank into the chair as he drank deeply from the mug before him, its sweet aroma and just-hot-enough-but-not-scalding temperature warming his heart. Harry didn't know how long he sat there, nor did he care. Anyone worrying about him would just have to worry;he wasn't ready to return yet. But after awhile, he decided he'd better do so. After quickly washing his face in the basin that appeared in the corner, Harry stepped out the door and set off to return to the common room.
"Mr. Potter," a voice rang out behind Harry just as he reached the portrait hole. He whirled around and found himself looking straight into the eyes of the famous headmaster.
"Professor Dumbledore…"
He chuckled, "Yes, that would be I," his bright blue eyes twinkled, but there was obvious gravity hidden beneath the cheery expression.
"What is it?" Harry asked, feeling stupid – but still wanting to know why Dumbledore was seeking him out at such a time. Could he know about the mirror already? Harry mentally slapped himself, of course he could, that was probably what this was all about anyway. "About the mirror… I'm really sorry. I ju-"
"There is no need for an explanation." Dumbledore looked deep into his eyes, forcing Harry to turn away from the sheer magnitude of it all.
"But-" Harry started to interrupt, but stopped as his Headmaster held up an open hand, signifying his want for Harry to not continue.
"I'm sure all will be explained in time, butI believe you will find it more useful to follow meand make up for lost time." Harry briefly wondered what he meant, but didn't dwell on it. After all, Dumbledore was a man of many things – and when it came to speaking in riddles, well, that was only one of them. Harry silently followed the old man as they walked the familiar route to his office, walking up to the statue, which would soon spring to life.
"Sugar Quill."
Harry arose up the stairs, wondering why Dumbledore had come to seek him out. Pausing before the door, Dumbledore turned to him and gave a warning – brief, but equally serious as their talk at the end of last year had been.
"Harry…" Dumbledore didn't seem to have the wits about him that he normally did, but eventually managed to tell Harry that the scene coming up would be interesting, to say the least. Without further ado, he pushed aside the door to reveal a sight that Harry had been longing to see since he was one year old. A petite redhead sat in a comfortable chair, wringing her hands nervously.
"Stop that, Lily," a black-haired man with hazel eyes said irritably. "You're making me nervous."
"Well you should be nervous! You're meeting your son for the first time in fifteen years, and he has been through more than any of us can even have nightmares about. At least, that's what Sirius here says."
"How many times do I have to tell you we can trust him?"
"I'll never trust him with anything less than a life," Lily said jokingly, but despite her tone, a silence fell over the room. It was at that point that all three seemed to notice an old man and a young, teenage boy standing in the doorway.
"Sirius!" Harry yelled out loud enough to be heard down on the grounds as he ran to hug his godfather. The two embraced, Sirius patting Harry on the back comfortingly. "What's going on? How… What happened?"
"There'll be plenty of time for that later. Right now, I think you'll be better off meeting…" Sirius trailed off, unable to think of how exactly to put this – but Harry understood.
"Mum… D-Dad?" He was speechless, but the situation didn't require words. The parents he had never known were sitting right in front of him, it didn't matter how.
Harry wanted to go hug them, but when he got there, he noticed a bit of a transparency to them. Not very much, so it was not obvious, but from close up they seemed to be a projection of sorts. He leaned over and hugged them anyway, and found them solid.
"What's going on?" Harry asked tentatively, glancing between his parents and Dumbledore.
Ron dashed down the corridor and through the doors of the library. Glancing around feverishly he looked for the familiar bushy brown hair that signified. "Hermione!" Ron shouted as he spotted her in a dark corner of the library.
"Hush! This is a library" Madame Pince reprimanded.
"Sorry," he added in a whisper, sinking down along the wall to join her on the thick-carpeted floor as he reached her. "You never opened your letter," he added, handing her the smoky-black envelope.
"I don't need to," she replied, burying her tear-streaked face in her knees once more.
He put his arm around her shoulder comfortingly and held the envelope to her. "Yes, you do. Please, Hermione. Just read the letter" he coaxed, putting his arm around her.
"I know what's in it" came her muffled reply, indifferent to his display of affection.
"Oh but you don't. Please, Hermione. Just read it."
"Fine…" She looked up, the tears making her face glisten in the shadows, and reached a shaky hand for the envelope. Slowly she opened it and read the enclosed message. With a slight gasp, her eyes widened as they quickly skimmed the rest and she abandoned the paper to throw her arms around Ron. "Are you serious?" she asked softly, looking deep into his eyes.
"Yes, Hermione. They're not gone" hesaid, his blue eyes melting into her brown ones as her tears slowly came to a halt.
And with no warning at all, she leaned in and kissed him.
"He looks so much like you," Lily said, tears glistening in her bright green eyes – a replica of her son's.
"Me? Excuse me, I do not have green eyes, thank you very much!" James retorted, avoiding being serious at all cost.
Harry was at classes – after all, he had his final exams in just a few months- parents, or no parents. He would meet them after classes in the hospital wing- where Madame Pomfrey insisted they get looked over before letting them go. No one but Harry, and his friends knew about their return yet. The ministry was cooperating, but they couldn't be trusted for a little while yet. No, it was better keeping this hush-hush for a few days. Of course, like everything else at Hogwarts- It wouldn't be kept quiet for long.
"What time is it?"
"Two minutes after the last time you asked."
"What's that?"
"3:57."
"When'll Harry get here?"
"His last class ends at four."
"So…"
"He'll probably be here in ten minutes or so," she replied exasperatedly.
"What time is it now?"
"Shut up." Lily was getting annoyed by both James', and Sirius' constant complaints and whining. Sure, she couldn't blame them for their anxiousness, but they did get annoying after awhile… in a… cute, lovable sort of way.
Hermione pulled back, her eyes wide in horror. "I-I'm so sorry…" shestuttered, fumbling to her feet as she tried to stand up on shaky legs. "I shouldn't have, I'm such a-" But what she was Ron never found out, as a second later she ran away, simply trying to get away from him.
"Hermione, wait, don't-" He watched her retreating back, paying him no attention. "Don't go…"
"Hey, Potter!" The annoying voice he knew only too well echoed down the hallway behind him. He whirled around.
"Wha' d'you want, Malfoy?" Harry said, lowering his voice dangerously.
"I wanna know this: are the rumors true?" His coldgrey eyes stared into Harry's bright green as he tried to look menacing – not that Harry would tell him he wasn't, but…
"Might be, depends on what these rumors are saying exactly."
"You know what they're saying, Potter."
"'Fraid I don't," Harry said bitterly, "care to tell?" Malfoy just scowled at him and made to turn away, when a voice came from behind Harry.
"Why hello! I've been wanting to meet dear Lucius' son for a long time."
Hermione took off down the halls, cursing herself under her breath for being so stupid. "What an idiot… Now your friendship is totally ruined… You know Ron doesn't like you like that;he never will. Nobody will, but especially not Ron…" she told herself as she slowed her pace to a fast walk, glancing around feverishly for a place to get away. She had to go somewhere where Ron wouldn't find her… He probably wanted to get away from her as well. He probably never wanted to see her again. "How could I have just done that…" she asked herself, her eyes falling on the darkened door of the prefect's bathroom. Nobody would be in there at that time on a Saturday. Glancing around, she leaned against the door and murmured, "Winter Bright." Hoping desperately that Ron wouldn't come looking for her, she slipped beyond the pine door.
"Sirius, what time is it?" James whined again.
"Oh no you don't- you're not going to go after me too! Lily! Save me!" Lily laughed at both her husband's antics and his best friend's mock fear of him as the forty-one-year-old man ran to hide behind the chair Lily was seated in.
"Jamie boy just wants to welcome you back to the land of the living!"
"Firstly- it's him who should be welcoming me, and secondly- don't call me that!" her husband said, sounding insulted.
"Sure thing, Jamie boy." Sirius flashed a grin.
James surprised them all a moment later when he shushed them suddenly.
"Wha-" Lily started to ask, but was cut off as James' hand rose to silence her.
A voice was coming from outside the door. "I wanna know this, are the rumors true?"
"I know that voice!" James was whispering to himself, "Oh gosh, I know that voice! Where have Iheard it before?" He was cradling his head in his hands as he thought.
"Whoa there, Jamie boy, don't burst any brain cells here. It's simple," Sirius replied to his rants as if it was obvious.
"Then wouldja mind telling me exactly who it is!"
It was clear that James wanted to know, for some reason or other, so Sirius decided not to humor himself and just tell him.
"Let us think." Sirius said, sitting on floor, pretending to meditate, "Who do we know who has always been horrible… racist… Dark… chauvinist…"That was all James needed.
"Malfoy!" James shouted outraged. "What's he doing here?"
"Malfoy- Jr." Sirius corrected, still on the floor, his voice hardly more than a whisper as it imitated Professor Trelawney's mystical tones.
"Why is he conversing with our son?" James turned to Lily with a look of terror on his face.
"James-" Lily started.
Sirius sprang up, interrupting her loudly as he announced, "Jamie boy, old buddy, old pal! Don't you worry your not-so-little-head about it! Harry-boy hates the old bugger more then we hated dear old Snivellus! If that's even possible!" Sirius shouted, then pondered.
James let out a sigh of relief, "Good! But for the record…" He opened the door, and put on his best sarcastic voice, which could win any contest when it came to this (he had had years of practice after all!).
"Why hello! I've been wanting to meet dear Lucius' son for a long time."
"Who are you?" Malfoy's voice took on a surprised tone as he looked between James and Harry, practically twins with the exception of the eyes and a certain scar.
"Ah, forgive me for not introducing myself sooner! I'm-"
Harry elbowed him, giving his father a look that clearly said 'shut up you idiot,' which Harry was smart to do – as Dumbledore told them to keep it all under cover for the time being.
"He's… a distant cousin of my… uncle's, dog walker's… brother" Harry butted in suddenly, introducing his father in a… long, untrue, interesting way.
"Sure…" Malfoy looked confused, but Harry could see the gears working in his brain as he looked between the two- not believing what he was told.
"Mr. Malfoy!" a cold voice barked down the corridor, and everyone turned to look at its owner. "Perhaps now would be a good time to return to your common room." It was Snape.
"But Professor…"
"Now, Mr. Malfoy," he repeated sternly.
"Yes sir." Malfoy gulped and turned around- scurrying off.
"Potter," Snape snarled, glaring at James, "So the rumors are true."
"What is it with these rumors that nobody ever tells me!" Harry remarked loudly to nobody. He wasn't scared of Snape, especially now, with his father at his side.
"Why hello, Snivellus!" James said brightly, "The dungeons seem to have done you good! That is, if you consider barrels of grease in your hair and skin that looks whiter then a ghost's good."
"Arrogant," Snape sneered, "as always."
"I prefer the term self-esteemed thank you" James corrected, using his fingers as a way to make a point.
"Both mean the same thingsuit yourself." Snape looked furious at the sight of his enemy.
"Actually…" James went on to state the differences, but Harry didn't stick around to hear them. He didn't want to get in any unnecessary trouble at the moment. He took the time to sneak around his father and slip into the Hospital Wing.
Ron dashed down the hallway, trying to follow the rapidly receding sound of heavy footsteps. He came to a T in the hallway. Glancing anxiously from left to right he decided to take the right corridor. If I were Hermione trying to run away from me… Where would I go? His first thought was the library, but considering the situation he felt that he could safely rule that option out. Looking around, he quickly recognized the hallway, and then the door to the prefect's bathroom. It's worth a try… he told himself as he walked up to the door.
"Winter Bright," he said aloud, turning the handle one hundred and twenty degrees to the left. He poked his head inside the door. "Hermione?" he asked, though the sound of low sniffling was all he needed to hear before he was inside the steamy bathroom.
"So, what's your old man doing out there?" Sirius eagerly questioned Harry the moment he appeared in the room. Harry just pointed at the door, as enough of an explanation was the noise coming through.
"Ah, Snivellus, fancy meeting you here," Sirius said as he strolled around the corner, leaving Lily and Harry to roll their eyes simultaneously.
"So Harry, how was your day?" Lily said conversationally. What did one say to their sixteen-year-old son, whom they hadn't seen since he was one, who thought (and was correct) that they were dead all that while?
Harry just shrugged and sat down in a chair by the window as he gazed out to the Quidditch pitch, where the Hufflepuffswere practicing.
Lily watched her son as he sank into the chair, looking out onto the Quiddich pitch lovingly, almost longingly. He had seemed so happy for the past day, since meeting them for what might as well have been the first time. There was a light in his eye, one that (according to Sirius) hadn't been there before.
"Oh, we got 'im good!" James said loudly, smiling as he came into the hospital wing again.
"You can say that again!" Sirius replied, sitting down next to James on his bed, lying back against the pillows. "So, how's life treatin' ya, Harry?"
"Very good as of late, actually." Harry grinned as he turned around again.
"Glad to hear it!" Sirius' infamous childhood exuberance seemed to be restored – something that had obviously been lost in Azkaban, Harry noticed.
James had a twinkle in his eye as he watched his son (who appeared to be less then a decade younger then himself). But he grew quiet as he thought about what was coming. Life had been tough on his little boy. Everyone knew that. From the moment he hadn't died, everyone had anticipated it. It was just that hearing the details from Harry's mouth himself that would be difficult.
"Harry…" James began, unable to figure out how to say it. Luckily, Harry seemed to realize the seriousness of the situation, and sat down, the laughter leaving his face instantly. "It… might be hard for you, but – all things considered. We need you to do something for us." James very much doubted he would see this as a favor to anybody, but it was – really.
"Of course, anything." Harry looked confused, wondering what to expect next.
"We need you to tell us everything about your past six years here… In detail."
Out of everything Harry might have been expecting, it wasn't that. "Well… sure. But… can't you just talk to Professor Dumbledore? He can tell you everything."
"Well, we could. But for one thing – I'm sure you never told him the whole story – or if you did, I need to teach you more then I thought." Lily slapped him with the back of her hand for that. "And, secondly, we need every detail you can remember – it's important. And thirdly… It's just not the same as hearing it directly from the hero himself." James smiled down at his son.
"O-of course," Harry looked startled, but touched all the same, "Where should I start?"
"How about from my horrid sister's place," Lily said, snarling at the thought of her son growing up with them.
"Um…" Harry didn't know what to say. Did he include all the weird stuff happening to him like turning his teacher's wig blue? It was details, but they said everything… But, it was normal for child wizards. Taking a deep breath, Harry began, and told them everything.
It was nice, having parents near your own age. They laughed at all the right parts, and Harry finished in what seemed like no time at all (but was actually several hours). He wrapped up telling his parents about recent events.
"And… I dunno what really happened…" Harry blushed deep crimson at this point, "But I just… got really mad at Sirius for… nothing really. Just…"
"Leaving you to deal with the prophecy alone" heinterjected.
"Er... Yes… and… I dunno, I just sort of… lost control." Harry was as confused as everyone else as to why his parents suddenly returned from the dead. It was supposed to be impossible. "Any ideas?" Harry wondered aloud.
"Well…" Lily fidgeted in her seat a bit, trying to figure out how to put it. "For starters, do you know what the mirror does?"
"Of course, it shows us the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts…"
The three adults in the room got looks of confusion over their faces. "Harry-" Sirius started to say, but was interrupted by the wise voice of the man everyone looked up to, Albus Dumbledore had entered the room with a smile.
"I'm afraid that's my doing." he said, a smile traceable on his wrinkle-lined face.
"What is your doing, Professor?" Harry looked confused.
"What did you tell him, Headmaster?" James asked instantly.
"Well, there's no real way of saying this easily, Harry." Dumbledore seemed to be bracing himself for the worst, not wanting a repeat of the previous year's "chat" in his office. "That mirror… isn't the Mirror of Erised."
"But it said…" Harry started to interrupt, but was once again cut off by the old man.
"It is an exact replica of the Mirror of Erised, in every way, except in its magical capabilities. That… particular mirror was invented by none other than Nicholas Flamel, himself. It was meant as a Divination… enhancer, you could say. Rather like a witch or wizard using a wand to enhance his or her own natural Magick's. It was meant to work with farsight- seeing the present, from far away, and foresight- seeing the future, and work much like a pensieve, taking visions, and putting them in a form that allows us to analyze them later on. But, he… made a mistake. Or rather, didn't accomplish what he meant to. Almost four hundred years ago, Nicholas worked with your Great-Great-Great-Grandfather, Francis Bentley, a famous seer of his time, as well as the only living descendent of Godric Gryffindor, to create it. It was his idea to make it look like the mirror of Erised, and in making it, one of the edges of the glass cut his skin. The powers of a seer flowed into it, and in short- the mirror tells the future. It shows us only what it feels most necessary that we know. Changed "then" to "than." Magick's – huh? I get why you want it capitalized, but I guess I don't know why you want it "ck." And also, no matter, it shouldn't have an apostrophe because it's just plural, not possessive. Changed "pensive" to "pensieve." –The ck I use when I'm talking about magic in a form that is uncontrolled and lacks understanding from the prior centuries. I've seen it used before, and rather liked the idea, though if you deem it necessarily it can be changed.
"When it went on display in the Magical Museum of Charming Achievements, people flocked from all over the world to catch a glimpse of their future, and that was only the beginning of the problems. It was getting dangerous; people were trying to change their futures, but what was showing in the mirror was fate. It could be changed, but most often it was for the worst. It was Bentley's son, Lucas, who finally figured out what to do about it. He looked at Nicholas' previous invention – the Mirror of Erised, and got the idea of changing it. It was too late to drain the powers from the mirror, and breaking it – such as you did, had unknown results. Together they charmed it, and what before showed the future, became what the gazer wanted. The real Mirror of Erised is hidden far from any prying eyes. That very reason is how you were able to get the Philosopher's Stone back in your first year. It would have been far more difficult to enchant the original Mirror of Erised to do such a thing, as it would have been contradicting it's original… programming, so to speak. Your greatest desire has always been a family, and Voldemort's desire for the Stone could never change that.
"The twist in fate is this. As if life weren't confusing enough already, Balthasar Slytherin, Tom Riddle's Grandfather, managed to find the Mirror, and charmed it in… ways the rest of us can only imagine. The Slytherin line was destined for evil, and Balthasar knew it. He made the mirror to enclose all the seriously law-breaking things that his descendants did in such a mirror. Upon breaking it, you released them all. Were you to go to St. Mungo's you would find that the Longbottoms have regained their sanity, as well as several other patients. Those killed at the hands of Lord Voldemort – previously encased in the mirror, now have the chance to release their souls through the veil that you saw in the Department of Mysteries last June..
"The rest, we do not know, but I believe your parents and Sirius are with us once more because they were visible in the mirror when it was broken, despite the fact that Lord Voldemort didn't kill Sirius initially. However, nothing can bring them back to life. They are here in soul and mind, but as their bodies are unfit for possession of their remaining selves, they are mere reflections of them. Since nothing like this has happened before, we don't know exactly how it works, or how long they may be with us."
Harry was overcome by all this knew information. His head was spinning more than ever before. He was the descendent of Godric Gryffindor himself, the only one, excepting his father?
"Now, perhaps you would like to return to Gryffindor Tower. You undoubtedly have much to tell your friends," Dumbledore said, responding to Harry's deafening silence with a twinkle in his eye.
Without another word said, Harry rose and departed from the Hospital Wing, his head spinning.
Ron walked into the bathroom, looking around to see Hermione curled in a ball in one of the corners while the gigantic bathtub slowly filled with purple foam that he could have recognized as lavender from the other side of the door. "Hermione?" he said softly, tentatively reaching his hand out and putting it on her shoulder.
"Leave me alone," she whimpered, burying her head in her hands as far as it could go.
"No… Hermione, please talk to me."
"I can't…"
"Why can't you?" he asked, challenging her in a mellow voice.
"Because…" She paused, waiting for words to come to her.
After a moment Ron laughed softly. "And so the great all-knowing Hermione cannot answer a question." She looked up, and glared at him. His heart meltedas he saw her tear-streaked face. "We're making progress now." He fought to speak clearly. "But please talk to me, Hermione. Why did you run away?"
"Because… Because I was scared."
"Why would you be scared?"
"Because I thought you would never talk to me again… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry… I know I shouldn't have done that… I had no right. I was just… I don't know. I just-"
"You don't have to give me a reason" he interrupted.
"But I don't want my stupidity to ruin our relationship as friends. I didn't mean to do that, and I'm sorry."
"You don't have to apologize. I understand… How that must be. I don't mind in the slightest."
"Are you sure… Because if you want me to just stay away from you from now on I will… I know it's awkward…"
"The last thing I want is for us to stay away from each other. We've been through trolls, escaped convicts, Dementors,Slytherins, and all sorts of evil beasts. I think we can handle one kiss," he said with a grin. She smiled.
"Thank you."
"No, thank you," Ron said, pulling her into a hug. "Now I'll leave you to your bath," he said, motioning towards the almost-fullminiature swimming pool. "I'll see you later."
"Alright. 'Bye Ron."
Oh my God... What to say, what to say? I absolutely LOVE this chapter; I really do! I mean... dear God... there was my two absolutely favorite things in the whole wide world in it: Lily/James'ness AND Ron/Hermione'ness... THEY KISSED! Holy fudgin' begeebez!
But... one question, I realize that Harry hugged Sirius, but not Lily and James. Yet, they're all supposedly only soul and mind - transparent, really. So, are they still touchable? Hmm... 'tis a ponderence.
Fixed!
I quite liked this chapter! So much there. At first I wasn't sure about the whole Lily/James/Sirius thing, but when I read through a second time, it grew on me, and by the time I finished betaing the chapter, I found I quite like it. So, yeah. And also? The Ron and Hermione bit was absolutely lovely. Sorry again for dropping off the face of the earth.
I had a lot of trouble with this chapter. I think every time I looked at it I found myself rewriting 90 of it and I fear if I look back more than briefly right now I'll do the same thing. I had a lot I wanted to fit in, and the only way I did was write three SEPARATE chapters and then combine them. I knew what I wanted to happen between Ron and Hermione, though each scene was rather short and spaced apart. I knew what I wanted going on with Lily and James, and Harry, and also Dumbledore. However, I just couldn't do it all from scratch. Honestly, if word processors these days weren't so easy to use I would never be writing stuff this long (though whether that's good or bad, I'm not sure). Thanks a million Annika!