Harriet Potter Year 2: The Dreams of Yesterday
"The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."
~Albert Einstein
Sirius Black, Gringotts-November 6, 1992
When Sirius had been a little kid, his head had been filled with images of the exciting life of Aurors: catching the bad guys, saving the day, and the admiration from women that came with the job.
The first War had quickly washed those thoughts out of his head. They were replaced with grueling hours, dangerous duels, and, on occasion, letting the bad guy win. The attention he garnered from women was the one thing that stayed true to his fantasy, much to Sirius's immense relief.
But even those days were he was forced to spend long nights awake on nothing but coffee couldn't compare to this, Sirius decided.
Sitting in a stuffy office in Gringotts, dressed in his finest robes, Sirius was decidedly uncomfortable. His parents had spent a good portion of their time training him to eventually take up his position as the scion to the Black family. He hated it then and he hated it more now, especially since he had thought that he had left that life behind him the moment he ran away to James's house.
It's for the good of the wizarding world, Sirius repeated, like a mantra in his head. The wizarding world better be pretty damn appreciative for what I'm doing for them.
Obviously this mantra wasn't working.
Do it for Harriet. Do it to keep her safe. Much better, decided Sirius, as he almost felt his resolve strengthening.
After a few more minutes of waiting, a stout goblin in a purple, velvet suit walked back into the room, carrying a stack of papers. Sirius eyed them with a growing sense of dread.
"Here is the complete inventory of the contents of the Black vaults. It would help, of course, if you knew what you were looking for-"
"Well, I don't. Not really." Sirius huffed, thinking to the items that Dumbledore had listed as possible Horcruxes. He could start with those, at the very least.
The goblin smirked. "Well, then, you'll have to go through all of these individually. If you have yet to find what you are looking for, I can draw up the paperwork to give you access to both the Lestrange and Malfoy vaults."
Sirius flexed his hand, already uncomfortably stiff. The goblin watched it gleefully. Sirius had a feeling that he was enjoying this just a bit too much.
"Thank-you," he said resignedly as the goblin placed the thick stack of papers on the desk in front of him. Sirius picked up the first page and squinted. The writing was impossible small.
"This might take a while."
"Oh, no rush," chuckled the goblin, exiting the room.
Sirius groaned and leant over the papers, beginning to scan the inventory for anything that even resembled a cup or a necklace.
For Harriet. Do it for Harriet.
Harriet Potter, Hogwarts-November 11, 1992
"A dueling club?" Harriet read from the poster adorning the wall in the common room. "That could be fun."
"It could also be incredibly educational," Hermione said eagerly.
Ron eyed her warily, "Sure. I just want a chance to hex Malfoy, though."
"Ronald," tutted Hermione disapprovingly, "This Dueling Club is the perfect opportunity to practice our defense skills! Especially with all of these attacks! I think its an absolutely brilliant idea!"
"I never said it wasn't," sulked Ron.
"A Dueling Club will be great," Harriet said definitely, hoping to get her two friends to stop fighting. "As long as Lockhart isn't teaching it."
After dinner that evening, Ron, Harriet, and Hermione made their way to the Defense classroom. It was crowded and the three of them had to fight hard to find a place closer to the front of the classroom.
"It was just because I said something, wasn't it?" Harriet asked despairingly, staring at Lockhart, who was preening in front of a gaggle of giggling girls. Hermione scowled and brushed her hair back, obviously not choosing to say anything. She moved to Harriet's other side, putting Ron between them.
Harriet knew that she wasn't really angry, but rather just wanted to make a point. Harriet wished that she hadn't said anything to Hermione, though, because the moment Hermione moved, a Hufflepuff in her year took her place.
"Hello, I'm Justin Finch-Fletchley, Huffpuff," He said amicably. He held out his hand and Harriet went to shake it.
"Nice to meet you," she said sincerely. "I'm-"
"Oh no need," he laughed. "Even us muggle-borns know who you are!"
He didn't say it in an admiring or awe-filled tone. He said it laughingly, as though it was just a fact. Harriet laughed with him and turned to look at Lockhart, who was observing the proceedings from his platform.
Justin noticed her looking.
"That Lockhart is something, isn't he?"
Harriet snorted. "That's one way of saying it."
Justin interpreted her words the wrong way and nodded in agreement. "I couldn't believe half the things he's done when I read his books. My mum wasn't so sure about me being a wizard, but after she read Lockhart's books, she was really excited."
"At least Lockhart is good for one thing," Harriet muttered to Ron, who had been listening in the conversation.
Lockhart clapped loudly several times, bringing everybody's attention on him. "Hello! Hello! Everybody gather round, don't be shy! You can all see me, hear me, yes? Good. Now, welcome to the first official meeting of the Hogwarts Dueling Club!"
There was some scattered applause and excited mumbling. Lockhart beamed at them, his white teeth blinding her. "To help me teach you how to defend yourself as I have done on countless occasions, I have enlisted the help of an assistant."
Harriet almost burst out laughing as Snape climbed onto the platform. He looked as though there were no place he would hate to be more. He shot her a subtle glare when he heard her giggles, but was otherwise powerless to do anything about the situation. Taking advantage of his position, she stuck her tongue out at him when nobody was looking. Snape glared at her even more.
"Don't worry," Lockhart assured the crowd, "You'll still have your Potions Master by the time I'm done!"
"There goes that dream," Ron quipped to Harriet. As much as Harriet loved her Uncle Severus, she couldn't help but laugh at that. Maybe she'd mention it to him later. He'd probably love to know that his students hated him so much.
"In a proper wizarding duel," Lockhart began, "You must first begin by bowing to your opponent."
Lockhart did so, with a lot of exuberance and fluttering of his opulent robes. Snape, in stark contrast, simple gave a quick bow and jerk of the head. They then turned around and each took several steps to opposite ends of the platform.
Snape turned around and raised his wand in a defensive position. Lockhart did it as well, but his position looked a lot more theatrical to Harriet, his wand held lightly and in front of him. He cleared his throat.
"You will take the proper defensive position, as so." Lockhart said. He waved his wand and wiggled the fingers of his other hand to emphasize his position. Snape just stared back stoically. Harriet, knowing him as well as she did, knew that he was trying as hard as he possible could to not laugh.
"And then, on the count of three, you will try to disarm-and only disarm- your opponent." Lockhart warned. He nodded to Professor Snape, who hadn't moved. "One, two, three."
Like a shotgun, Snape fired his curse. Lockhart had no time to defend and his wand was sent flying backwards. Harriet giggled and realized only a second too late that it was a bit loud. Thankfully, Hermione's worried shrieks muffled it.
Lockhart straightened after a moment, looking considerably dazed. He picked up his wand as dignifiedly as he could. He cleared his throat and did his best to pretend that he hadn't just been humiliated.
"Yes, Professor Snape, thank you." He said insincerely. "Although, I would like to point out that it was very obvious what you were planning on doing-"
"Of course it was obvious," Harriet whispered to Ron, "He told Snape what to do."
Ron nodded in agreement.
"-and, if I had wanted to, I could have easily blocked you. As it is, I was hoping to show the students what a successful curse would look like."
"Perhaps," Snape said smoothly, "It would be prudent to teach the students first how to block a curse."
"Smashing idea!" Lockhart said, as enthusiastic as if he had thought of it himself. "Yes, let's have Harriet and, ah-"
"How about somebody from my own house," Snape said easily. Harriet had a feeling that Snape was about to enact his revenge on her for sticking her tongue out at him. She was right. "Draco Malfoy, perhaps?"
Harriet made a face as she clambered onto the platform, Draco following, having a much easier time for it since he was quite a bit taller. It was moment like these that Harriet very much regretted being short.
"Now," Lockhart said, pulling Harriet to the side, just as Snape did Malfoy. "Harriet, you will defend against Malfoy like so."
He then proceeded to make a very complicated wand movement and dropped his wand. Even if he hadn't, Harriet doubted that she would have been able to replicate the motion.
"Just do what I did," he assured her, once again bending down to pick up his wand. She looked at him in alarm.
"What, drop my wand?"
Before she could ask him to repeat the motion, though, he was shoving her towards the center of the platform and towards a smirking Malfoy. Harriet did the best she could not to show fear and lifted her wand up in acknowledgement, just as Lockhart instructed.
"Bow," Lockhart ordered. They did, never taking their eyes off of each other. When they straightened, Malfoy smiled a bit.
"Scared, Potter?"
"You wish."
With that they each turned and walked to their ends of the platform. Harriet took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. After that disastrous Quidditch game, she could not, would not, let herself be humiliated by Malfoy.
She caught the eyes of both Ron and Hermione and smiled at them before turning around to face Malfoy again.
"Wands at the ready," Lockhart commanded. Harriet brought her wand up much in the same manner as Snape did and planted her feet.
"Now, on my count, you will attempt to disarm-and only disarm- your opponent. You will also attempt to defend against them, if they manage to hit you. Am I clear?"
Harriet nodded almost imperceptibly.
"One, two, three-" Lockhart counted.
Harriet had long suspected that Malfoy did not know how to count. As it turned out, she was right. Malfoy fired on two, and not just to disarm her. Harriet didn't hear what spell he cast at her, but all she knew is that one moment she was doing her best to copy Lockhart's wand motions, and the next she was laying spread eagle on her back.
As the stars cleared from her eyes, Harriet blinked dazedly up at the ceiling.
Oh, that's some very nice stonework.
Harriet scowled and lifted herself up. She was going to wipe Malfoy's triumphant smirk off of his face. Aiming her wand, Harriet hadn't even thought of a spell to use when a burst of magic shot from her wand and hit Malfoy square in the chest. He was sent flipping rapidly through the air, landing at Snape's feet.
Harriet glanced at her wand in surprise as Snape hauled Malfoy up. Malfoy took another few steps and Harriet readied herself for whatever spell he would cast next. Surprisingly, he didn't aim directly at her, but in front of her.
"Serpensortia!"
From his wand, emerged what Harriet guessed to be a cobra. Gasps could be heard from the audience as it drew itself up and hissed loudly. She took a few step backwards and did not make a sound. Harriet just watched the angry snake warily, just as tense and as anxious as everybody else.
"I'll take care of it!" Lockhart assured.
Harriet should have known that whatever Lockhart would do, it wouldn't be "taking care of it." The spell he shot at the snake did nothing but toss it up into air, ensuring that, after it had landed, it was even more angry than before.
It fixed its eyes on Justin and gave a low, meaningful hiss that even somebody who wasn't a Parselmouth would have no trouble understanding.
Looking back, Harriet could never say what had possessed her to do what she did next. Maybe it was worry for Justin, or just that brash impulsiveness that made her a Gryffindor. All she knew for sure was in that moment, as the snake crept infinitesimally closer to Justin, the words sprang uncalled from Harriet's lips.
"No!"
The snake stopped, hovering in front of Justin's face, obviously not sure about what to do. Harriet took a few steps forward.
"Leave him," She ordered. The snake turned to her and eyed her curiously, obviously not sure what to make of her. She put all the weight she had into her voice and inflection. "Leave him."
The snake took one last, long, considering look at Justin, and then turned back to Harriet. She shook her head "no." Finally, the snake bowed to her will and slumped to the floor, as docile as a lamb.
Snape quickly took control of the situation, vanishing the snake with a simple, "Evanesco."
Harriet wasn't sure what she expected the reaction around the classroom to be. At the time, she hadn't really been thinking about it. But now, surrounded by the muffled whispers and shocked gasps of her classmates, Harriet finally realized that what little time she had spent around other wizards and witches had skewed her perception to believe that they were all as open minded as her parents and Remus and Sirius- even Snape and Dumbledore had been accepting of her gift, once they had gotten over the shock.
She was wrong to think that all wizards were like that. Justin fixed her with an accusing glare, offset by his skin, which was milky white in terror. His voice shook a bit as he demanded, "What are you playing at?"
Harriet, not having an answer or any way to reassure him, did something completely out of character for her, the girl who had faced stares and whispers and her Uncle Snape and Quirrell and Voldemort himself all with a dogged determination and bravery that put older wizards to shame.
Harriet ran.
She ran as fast as she could, leaping off of the platform and through the small crowd, which parted easily for her, all of the students too afraid to touch the obviously "dark" witch. Harriet didn't really know where she was headed-somewhere, anywhere. She would have kept running all the way home if she had the chance.
As it happened, she didn't. Ron and Hermione, now well versed in the art of keeping up with their notoriously quick and unpredictable friend, easily caught up with her. One of them (Harriet couldn't see which, but later would learn that it was Hermione) grabbed her by the back of her Robe and tugged her into an empty classroom.
Ron shut the door behind them. The two of them moved to stand in front of Harriet, between her and the door, effectively trapping her.
She nodded in acceptance and prepared herself for the onslaught that she knew would follow. "Alright, you've got me. Let's hear it."
"Harriet," Ron stated useless, "You're a Parselmouth!"
"Yea," Harriet nodded. "I know."
"Well of course you know," Hermione said patiently, "You've got a pet snake, for Merlin's sake. Of course you know. We were just wondering why you decided to reveal it in the middle of a crowded classroom."
"If I hadn't told that snake to back off of Justin-" Harriet began, annoyed. Hermione instantly went to soothe her irked friend.
"That's what you did!" Ron said, sounding very surprised. "I thought you were egging it on or something!"
"Do you really think that I would do that?" Harriet asked, obviously hurt by her friend's accusation. Was the fear of Parselmouths so great that her friends, the two people she thought knew her better than almost anybody else, would begin to suspect her of sending a snake to attack another student?
"Of we don't, Harriet, but it doesn't matter," Hermione explained. "To everybody there, all they heard was you speaking Parseltongue and then the snake moving closer to Justin. Everybody else will think-"
"So you don't think I would do something like that?" Harriet interrupted.
Ron gave her a look implying that he thought she was slightly insane. It was a look she received from him often. "Of course not."
"So you aren't angry, then?" Harriet demanded. "Because I'm a Parselmouth, I mean?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione snapped. She bit her lip. "I have to admit, we are a bit hurt that you didn't tell us sooner- I mean, I am."
Ron's expression proved that he, too, had been hurt by Harriet's lack of trust. She looked sheepishly at them both.
"When we first met, I didn't tell you because I didn't really know you yet," Harriet began. Both Ron and Hermione nodded in concession to her point. "Then, as time went on, and we got to know each other better, things just kept coming up: Quirrell, the three-headed dog, the dragon. By the time things had died down, we were so close I was worried that you'd be mad at me because I didn't tell you sooner."
Ron raised an eyebrow. "So, what? You were just going to go the rest of your life without telling us?"
"No, I was waiting for an opportunity like today's to show itself," Harriet scowled, "Where I could reveal myself in front of everybody and mark myself as a Voldemort" -flinch- "reincarnate or something."
"Well it worked," Ron offered, trying to lighten the tension. His joke fell flat.
"I'm sure everybody will forget this, Harriet," Hermione said. "It might take some time, things being what they are with the Heir of Slytherin, but it will happen."
"There is no way you're the Heir of Slytherin," Ron added.
"Slytherin was alive thousands of years ago," Harriet frowned. "For all we know, I could be."
"But the Potters are a fairly pureblood family," Hermione argued. "Surely, you can trace your bloodline back-"
"I don't know if we can trace it that far," Harriet denied. "I can check over break, I suppose. There's bound to be something in the library. I haven't been there in ages. It'll give me something to do, I guess."
"What about homework?" Hermione asked, as the three finally began to make their way towards the common room. Harriet and Ron both scoffed.
"Oh," Harriet paused and reached out to Hermione's shoulder, noticing something on it. She brushed it off.
"You had a bug," she explained by way of explanation. Hermione shrugged, uncaring, but Ron looked a bit sick. Harriet hastened to reassure him that, "It wasn't a spider, Ron. Just a beetle or something."
"Oh, good," Ron said in relief as they stepped through the portrait. "Beetles I can handle, but not spiders."
"Technically, Ronald," Hermione began primly, in full lecturing mode, "A spider is an arachnid, not a bug. You can tell the difference because..."
Ron and Harriet exchanged amused looks behind Hermione's back as they settled down on the couch. She continued talking, unaware that her two friends were no longer paying any attention to her.
They spent the remainder of the day debating whether or not spiders were really bugs ("They're bug like!" Harriet argued) and working on homework, jokingly throwing wadded balls of paper at each other.
Harriet Potter, Hogwarts-November 12, 1992
They walked as silently as they could, although there was nobody around. It was imperative that they were not seen. They approached the threshold of an old house and stopped for a moment, admiring their reflection in the solitary, dusty, window-tall, dark-haired, and handsome.
Enough.
They needed to do this and they needed to do it quickly
Do what?
Oh, you know.
They stepped into the hovel, the air dank and cold, not much warmer than outside. There was a small fire going, but it did little to ward off the chill. There was a man, old and tired looking, sagging in arm chair.
They waited for him to notice them.
He did and they were not disappointed. He staggered upright, clutching hold of the side of the chair, preventing him from crumpling to the ground. The old man almost tripped over the beer bottles littering the ground.
Who was he?
Morfin.
Who?
...
What did they need from him?
...
"You!" he bellowed, picking up his wand and a knife. "YOU!"
That man was a wizard?
Only by mere technicality. He's a disgrace to our kind.
Do we know him?
Only by name.
The wizard in question lunged towards them, but they easily sidestepped him. He was sent crashing to the floor. They watched as he struggled to stand up again.
"Stop," they said simply.
But not in English.
They spoke in Parseltongue, a language as familiar to them as though they had been speaking it all their lives.
But we have been-
"You speak it?" the old man interrupted their train of thought. There was a long silence where they said nothing, the door slamming shut behind them, as a result of the heavy wind.
"Yes, I speak it," they intoned. They watched the old man gape at them, eyes wide. How disgusting that a wizard would ever let himself fall so low.
Let alone him of all people. They were ashamed.
Why were they ashamed? Why is he so special?
He has something we need.
What?
Information.
Information?
About our family.
"Where is Marvolo?" they asked. The old man looked surprised at the question, although it was hard to tell from the expression on his face. It could be seen in tenseness in his shoulders, or the white knuckled grip on his knife.
"Dead," he said after a moment. "Died years ago, didn't he?"
That wasn't right.
"Who are you then?"
"I'm Morfin, ain't I?" He didn't seem too sure of the fact.
"Marvolo's son?" they clarified.
"Course I am, but you-you!"
He straightened and pushed his hair out of his eyes. They watched his right hand sharply, catching sight of a black-stoned ring on his right hand. Morfin attempted to get a better look at Riddle.
"You look like that Muggle," he said finally, whispering. "You look mighty like that Muggle."
What Muggle?
Wait, what? Their mother was a Muggle. She had to be. She just had to...
"What Muggle?" they demanded quickly.
"That Muggle what my sister took a fancy to, that Muggle what lives in the big house over the way," said Morfin, gibbering away almost incomprehensibly. He he spat unexpectedly upon the floor between them. "You look right like him. Riddle. But he's older now, in 'e? He's older'n you, now I think on it…"
They swayed, understanding dawning on them like a freight train. Their mother was not the Muggle. Their father was. Their mother had been a witch, but she had left herself die. More importantly, she had let herself die and left them to that dodgy old orphanage, rotting away as though they were nothing.
Morfin added, almost as an afterthought, obviously not noticing the conflict written all over their face, "He came back, see."
They didn't say anything for a moment, letting their eyes drift to the ring. Then back up again to Morfin's face.
"Riddle came back?"
It was important.
They had to know.
"Ar, he left her, and serve her right, marrying filth!" said Morfin, stamping on the ground where he still sat with his hands and feet like an errant toddler. "Robbed us, mind, before she ran off., where's the locket, eh, where's Slytherin's locket?"
They didn't know. Not yet. But they would find out. Of course they would. It was only a matter of time. Nevertheless, Morfin did not need to know this.
They didn't answer. They just watched cooly as Morfin got himself more worked up than ever before.
"Dishonored us, she did, that little slut! And who're you, coming here and asking questions about all that? It's over, innit… It's over…"
Yes. It's over.
Unnatural darkness fell, extinguishing Morfin's candle, the lamp, the fire, everything. Even the air, it seemed, had disappeared.
Morfin's scream pierced the darkness, but, eventually, even that faded into nothing.
Harriet sat up in bed like a shot, breathing heavily, choking on a scream. She held her breath for a moment, worried that somebody may have heard, but there was no sign that they had. Her dorm mates were all snoring peacefully.
She raised a shaking hand up to touch her scar. It was burning once again. She didn't understand it and, at this rate, she doubted she ever would. Hermione wouldn't believe her about her dreams, and neither would Ron. Harriet was still hesitant about going to an adult. They would no doubt be skeptical, too.
Maybe Dumbledore-
No. He might have given her the benefit of the doubt, but there was no reason to bother him about a nightmare. He had far more important things to do.
Harriet tried to calm herself, taking several deep breaths. What did she know so far about Riddle? He was real, he had to be. Her dreams were far too detailed for there to be any other explanation.
He had a Muggle father and a mother who was a witch. They had died and left him at an apparently decrepit orphanage. He was a wizard and had, at some point or another, gone to Hogwarts. From what she could remember from her dreams, he had been rather popular, but Harriet had never heard of him, and she doubted that the teachers would remember one student out of thousands. He had an interest in Dark Magic (Horcruxes, in particular, it seemed, although Harriet didn't know much about them other than what she had heard) and he could speak Parseltongue. It seemed as though he had killed that man- his uncle? Because of the ring. Or maybe it was because he didn't want to be seen. He also knew something about the attacks at Hogwarts. But what-?
The strangest thing, however, was the feeling of the dreams themselves. She wasn't watching the dream from an outside perspective. She and Riddle had almost been the same person.
And that had been the scariest part of all.
Because she and Riddle didn't seem that different. And if Riddle was as dark as he seemed to be, did that mean that she, too, would-
No.
No she wouldn't. Right? Never mind the fact that she could talk to snakes or that the Sorting Hat had wanted to put her in Slytherin. There was no guarantee. And, on a similar note, there was no guarantee that Riddle had done those things either! It could have been just curiosity asking about the Horcruxes and maybe what happened with Morfin was just her imagination getting the better of her.
Harriet was deluding herself, but she didn't care. The dark hours of the (very) early morning made everything more sinister. If she even wanted to think about Riddle and her dreams, she had to do it during the day.
Still, there was no chance of her getting to sleep now. She huffed in annoyance and rolled over to her side. She didn't have her glasses on, so everything was just a blur, but she could make out the blurred form of her bedside table. On it, she saw a flash of yellowed parchment and suddenly remembered the Mardauder's Map.
Harriet hadn't had much of a chance to look at it, so deciding that she had nothing better to do, she slipped on her glasses and picked it up. She sat up straighter in bed and peered around her curtains, checking, once again, that everybody was still sound asleep.
Satisfied, she grabbed her wand and waved it over the parchment. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
Sure enough, the parchment slowly revealed itself, showing off every passage in the school and every person in it. It must have taken quite a bit of magic to create this.
No doubt Uncle Moony did most of the work, she snickered to herself.
She watched half-interested as the figures on the map moved. Most were still, the majority of the occupants in the castle asleep. Although Dumbledore look to be pacing in his office. Harriet had a feeling he did that a lot.
Filch, too, was awake, no doubt patrolling the corridors.
And Snape, oddly enough, seemed to be hard at work in his Potions lab. That was surprising. He always warned her about working with a clear head and an alert mind-not in the middle of the night while half asleep.
What could be so-
Wait just a tick!
There, in the corner, heading towards the corridor where Mrs. Norris had been found, was a name that Harriet had never expected to see.
Peter Pettigrew.
Harriet blinked. That couldn't be right, could it?
Hopping off from the bed, she quietly put on her slippers. She was halfway out the door when she paused.
Her parents had warned her multiple times about sneaking about the castle. Maybe it would be better for her to find somebody and show them. Uncle Severus was still up. If she explained the situation to him, he might understand why she was so anxious enough as to break Hogwarts's curfew.
Mind made up, Harriet slipped out of the common room and into the corridor. Using Lumos to light her wand, she kept one out for Pettigrew and another eye on the Map. She had to be careful. At the rate they were going, they were going to run right into each other.
He was heading towards her-
Filch was coming around the corner-
Pettigrew was right there!
But where? She couldn't see him!
Filch was here-
She waved her wand over the map, hiding the text, and then extinguished the light of her wand almost immediately after.
It was too late, though.
Harriet flinched as Filch flashed a bright light in her eyes. She couldn't make out his expression, but she had a feeling he was smirking triumphantly. If Mrs. Norris hadn't been Petrified, Harriet would have expected to hear her triumphant mew near her feet somewhere.
"Wandering the hallways at night," he tutted, "That's the second time I've caught you doing this, Potter. Making a habit of it, are we?"
Harriet waited to give her eyes a chance to adjust to the light. Once they had done so, she took several steps back, moving away from Filch.
"Well, go on then. What's your excuse this time?" He was obviously waiting for an explanation, although she didn't really know why. He'd probably give her detention either way.
"I was," she paused trying to think of a somewhat reasonable explanation. "I was looking for my Uncle Remus."
"Were you now, Harriet?" came a curious voice from behind Filch. Harriet breathed a sigh of relief when she saw her uncle. No doubt he wouldn't be too happy about her being out of bed, either, but at least he would give her a chance to explain herself.
"Yes," Harriet said quickly.
"Any particular reason why?" Remus asked, eyeing her carefully. She shifted uncomfortably, knowing that if anybody could tell when she was lying, it was her Uncle Moony. Harriet thought for a moment.
"I had a nightmare." She said finally. Harriet resisted the urge to slap herself. Out of all the ridiculous excuses-
"Well, Argus, there you have it." Remus said, with a raised eyebrow.
"I don't believe it," Filch denied. "Not considering her father. The trouble you four used to get into- the number of times I found you lot out of bed-"
"Yes, yes," Remus chuckled. "We gave you quite a hard time, didn't we? But Harriet is clearly on her own, so I doubt she's pulling a prank. No, I think she is being truthful. I'll take her to my office, give her some hot chocolate, and then send her straight to bed. Tomorrow, I'll talk to Professor McGonagall and discuss a proper punishment."
Filch may have been at the school for years, but even he did not have the authority to usurp a professor. He gave a disgruntled nod and hobbled off, eager to find any more rule-breakers wandering through the halls.
Remus, holding her firmly by the shoulder, lead her down the hall and, eventually, into his room at Hogwarts. It was small and cozy and filled to the brim with books of all sorts.
It suited Remus perfectly.
Harriet looked around for a moment, and then finally took a seat in a chair in the corner. Remus watched her patiently, before finally taking a seat himself.
"Well?" he said finally. "Would you mind telling me what exactly you were doing out at this time of night?"
"Would you believe me if I told you that I really did have an odd dream?" Harriet asked sheepishly.
"Yes, I dare say I would," Remus said, looking at her speculatively. He shook his head. "However, I sincerely doubt that you would risk detention on something as silly as that. So, what's the real reason? And it better be a good one, with all these attacks going on! It's dangerous in the halls these days!"
He took a deep breath, calming himself. "Honestly, Harriet! I know your father and Sirius and I are hardly the ones to be lecturing you about breaking curfew-Merlin knows we did it enough times ourselves- but even we wouldn't be as stupid enough to endanger our lives on a whim."
Harriet nodded in acceptance of his rebuking. "I know, but I wasn't doing it on a whim, I promise! I was looking for you or Snape. It was important!"
"What could possibly be that important?" Remus tutted.
"I think Peter Pettigrew is inside the castle," Harriet said finally.
Remus stood from his seat, his expression disbelieving. Harriet didn't blame him. If she hadn't seen it for herself, she wouldn't have believed her either.
"That's impossible," Remus said succinctly.
"I know," Harriet shrugged, "But it's true."
"How do you know?" Remus demanded. "Did you see him?"
Harriet shook her head, but then nodded, and then just shrugged again. "No- I mean, yes- Sort of."
Remus nodded for her to continue.
"Like I said, I had an odd dream and it woke me up. I couldn't go back to sleep, so I took out the Marauder's Map and was looking at it-"
"You found the Map?" he asked, suddenly forgetting for a moment the true gravity of the situation. " Where did you find it?"
"The twins found it," Harriet corrected. "Fred and George, that is. They found it in Filch's office first year. When they heard the Howler that Dad sent, they put two and two together and realized who the Marauders were, so they gave to me."
"That would explain why approached me that day and began bowing," Remus said smirking. "And here I thought they actually respected my abilities as a teacher."
Harriet shook her head. "No, I doubt it. Although you're a brilliant teacher, Uncle Moony- really, you are-"
"Stop sucking up, Harriet." Remus warned firmly, although his lips twitched a bit. "You'll still probably get detention for this. Now go on. What happened next?"
"Well, I saw Peter's name on the Map," Harriet explained. "So I got up and went to find Snape. It looked liked he was still up."
"Show me," Remus demanded.
Together, the two of them spread the Map out on the table. Remus waved his wand over it and said the password, smiling as he did so. He laughed softly as he watched the Map reveal itself.
"Oh, I remember this thing. We worked on it for months- well, I say 'we'. It was mostly me. Your father and Sirius helped a bit, but they always got too distracted with- well, things. But I digress. Now, where did you see Pettigrew?"
Harriet pointed. "He was heading towards the corridor where Mrs. Norris was found."
"Well he's not there now," Remus muttered. The two of them scanned the Map, but couldn't find his name anywhere. Remus looked at her skeptically.
"Are you sure you saw his name?"
"Yes!" Harriet said assuredly.
"You weren't still dreaming?"
"My dream had nothing to do with Pettigrew," Harriet denied. "It had to do with this boy-"
"Ah," Remus laughed. "It was one of those then?"
"No!" Harriet squeaked. "I didn't mean it like that, Uncle Moony!"
"Of course not," Remus laughed, looking back down at the Map. Obviously he didn't believe her.
He frowned again. They couldn't see Pettigrew anywhere, but Harriet was sure that Pettigrew's name had been on the Map and, knowing that Remus had done most of the work, there was no way it could have been an accident. He had always been incredibly meticulous. He either had to admit that he made a mistake with the Map or agree that Harriet had been right.
"I'm going to keep this here," Remus said finally. "I'll watch it for the next few days and see if Pettigrew makes a reappearance, alright. I'll let the Headmaster know, as well. In the meantime, you need to get to bed."
"Yes, Uncle Moony," Harriet said softly. She bit her lip. "And thanks."
"Hm?" Remus asked, distracted by the Map. "For what?"
"For listening to me," she said simply, and the walked out the door and back to her dorm. Remus watched for a moment, making sure that she wasn't taking any detours, and, once he was sure that she was going straight back to her room, he smiled, chuckling at the fact that she was taking a less commonly used route to avoid Filch.
He went to conceal the map, when he noticed something. Frowning, he leant closer. But that couldn't be right. There, walking right behind Harriet, was somebody who shouldn't have been in the castle at all, let alone at night, tailing a student. Harriet not once stopped, so Remus had to assume that Harriet had not seen her.
Remus grabbed the Map and tucked it into his robes, racing after Harriet.
Harriet Potter, Hogwarts Corridors-November 12, 1992
Harriet was now exhausted. Between her dream, her conversation with Remus, almost being caught by Filch, and now the cool air of the hallway, she was distinctly uncomfortable. She just wanted to go back to sleep for a few hours before classes. She had Quidditch practice as well, so she would most likely be dead on her feet tomorrow.
There was, of course, a shorter path to the common room, but Harriet was not in the mood to meet Filch again, so she took a longer way. She paused, as she thought, for just a brief moment, she heard a slow, soft, voice.
Come to me.
Harriet took a deep breath. It was just her imagination. It wasn't real. She kept on walking, ignoring the impulse to go and track it down.
Come to me.
Well, it sounded real. In fact, it sounded familiar. If she didn't know better, she would have said that it was-
Harriet turned a corner and stopped short. Her breath began coming in short gasps as shook took in what she saw. Justin stood in front of her, frozen in place, obviously petrified. Next to him, Nearly-Headless-Nick floated as well, frozen as well.
She heard footsteps behind her and saw Remus round the corner, seeming to scan the area around him for something.
"Harriet did you see somebody-" He stopped short when he saw Justin and Nick. He balked at her.
"Remus, I swear! It wasn't me!" Harriet said pleadingly. "I was just going back to the common room-"
"I know," he said finally, wandering over to Justin, checking to make sure that he was alright, other than being Petrified. He then turned to Nick and frowned.
"What could do that to a ghost?" Harriet asked. Remus shook his head slowly.
"I don't know."
Harriet frowned again. "Why were you coming to get me Remus?"
"I thought I saw-" Remus stopped and looked around him, then shook his head. "It's not important anymore."
"What do I do now, Remus?" Harriet asked quietly. He looked at her for a moment and then pulled her into a hug.
"Get to bed. Get some sleep. I need to alert the staff. No doubt Dumbledore will want to talk to you tomorrow."
"But I didn't do anything," Harriet said softly. Remus smiled tightly at her.
"I know and I'm sure he does, too. That doesn't change things. You've been at the center of these attacks three times already. I know you have a tendency to go looking for trouble, but this is getting too close for comfort."
"I don't go looking for trouble," Harriet defended. She eyed Nick and Justin hesitantly. "Trouble usually finds me."
"Well," Remus said after a moment, leading her back to the common rooms"Let's hope that whatever is causing this trouble doesn't find you anytime soon."
Harriet got one last look at the two, petrified figures, looks of sheer terror were frozen on their faces. Harriet felt a shiver run down her spine as she wondered what could have been that terrifying and what (or who) could have done this.
She recalled Remus's words.
Let's hope.
AN: Okay! So I'm starting to get excited because I feel like the action and mystery is finally starting to pick up, but it doesn't matter what I think. It matters what you think. So let me know! Oh, and check my profile page for an important message, if you haven't already.
Thanks for everything!
tinyrose65