11. Secrets Revealed
The morning sunlight was dancing on the lacy curtains as a gentle breeze came in through the open window. A fresh morning scent filled the room. Hermione began to wake up as the flowers from the flowerpots sitting on the windowsill opened their petals to a new day.
It took her a few seconds to recall where she was. Her brown eyes looked around the room. Oh yes, she was at the Nathan's house! And just yesterday, she and Harry had finally acted on their feelings for each other. A smile appeared on her face as she remembered how wonderfully perfect it had felt to be in his arms and to be kissed by him.
A soft blush reddened her cheeks as she remembered the softness of his lips and the warmth of his tongue. She brought a hand up to her mouth and ran a finger across her lips, recalling the tingling sensation.
Eager to taste his flavor once more, she tossed the covers aside and quickly got dressed. Wondering if he'd still be in bed, she knocked on his door. But after getting no response, she peeked and saw that the room was empty. Hermione smiled, seeing that Harry had already made his bed.
She reckoned he must be outside taking a morning walk, so she went down the stairs. When she was half way down, she heard voices coming from the living room. One of them belonged to Harry, but Hermione didn't know who the other one belonged to. It was a woman's voice, but it didn't seem to be Angela's.
As she headed to the living room, she spotted Harry leaning by the fireplace. Suddenly, Hermione saw something that made her freeze on the spot: The fireplace was lit, but the flames were a weird shade of green. A woman's head floated amidst those strange-looking flames. And, on top of it all, Harry was talking to the head.
Hermione's jaw hit the floor as her mind frantically tried to find a logical explanation to such weird sight. But no matter how hard she tried, nothing reasonable came to her.
Just then, the conversation seemed to be over; the green flames disappeared, and Harry stood up. Hermione tried to speak, to ask what it was she had just seen, but no sound came out. As Harry started to walk towards her, Hermione - without knowing why - ran out the door, not giving him a chance to talk.
The image of the head in the fireplace seemed glued to Hermione's inner eye. She hadn't even noticed that Harry was chasing her and that he would soon catch up with her. Indeed, Harry quickly caught up and grabbed hold of her arm to make her stop.
"Hermione, wait!" he pleaded as she tried to pull her arm free.
Not being able to loosen his grip on her, Hermione sighed resignedly and stood still, looking at the ground.
"I, uh…" Harry stuttered as if he didn't know where to begin. He knew he had to tell her what Professor McGonagall had just told him. But he would've liked to have some time to think things through and figure out the best way to disclose the news.
Hermione slowly looked up at him. Harry was saddened to see there was a hint of fear in her eyes. "Listen," he finally said after taking a deep breath. Still he didn't let go of her arm, afraid she'd run away before listening to what he had to say. "I've got something to tell you."
Hermione looked away, not sure whether she wanted to hear him. She had seen a head, a head! What if Harry was some serial killer who liked to decapitate his victims? But then she remembered he had been talking to the head.
"I'm sure you must wonder what it was you just saw," she heard him saying. Hermione turned to see him. "I can explain everything."
"Could he be a cold-blood killer?" she wondered, looking into his eyes. But deep down, she knew he didn't fit that description.
Since she didn't respond, Harry assumed she was willing to listen. "You see, I… uh, I'm a wizard."
Hermione's mouth opened wide as she furrowed her brow. "A… a wizard?" she was finally able to say, not sure of what he meant by that. "You mean you're one of those people who entertain kids at birthday parties?"
Harry made an effort to keep from laughing. "No," he said. "I mean the real kind."
Hermione looked skeptically at him, trying to guess if he was trying to pull her leg. "Prove it," she said after a while, crossing her arms across her chest and thinking he had no way to prove something like that.
Harry sighed deeply. He knew her logical thinking would make her refuse the idea until she could have some tangible proof. "Okay," he said, putting his hand into his jacket's inner pocket. Without hesitation, Harry took out what he expected would convince Hermione he was telling the truth. "You see this," he said, waving a long, thin piece of wood before her eyes.
"Is that…" she started
"It's my wand," Harry interrupted.
He extended his hands out, so Hermione could look at it closely. But she didn't move forward or made any effort to touch it. She simply looked questioningly at it, not finding anything special in that piece of wood that would indicate it to be a magical artifact.
To show her once and for all that he was telling the truth, Harry headed to some wild flowers that bloomed at the foot of a tree. He glanced at Hermione, making sure she was watching. Then, he touched one of the lilac flowers with the tip of his wand, murmuring an incantation under his breath.
Before Hermione's amazed eyes, the flower transfigured into a butterfly that quickly flew away. Hermione stared open-mouthed as the tiny butterfly flew out of sight. She turned to Harry, her mouth still hanging open.
"Remember what your mother used to tell you about magic?" he asked, taking one step towards her. "She was right. There's magic - real magic - all around us. And she knew that," he said as he stood next to her. "…because she had it in her."
Hermione raised her eyebrows, wondering what Harry meant. But she didn't voice her thoughts.
Placing a hand on her shoulder and looking into her eyes, Harry continued in a low voice, "She had magic in her, Hermione. She was a witch."
Hermione shook her head for a while. "You've got to be kidding!" she finally managed to say. "She… how can you say that? You didn't even know her?"
"I didn't," he agreed. "But I know someone who did. That's who I was talking to in the fireplace."
"So, what I saw was real?" she asked tentatively.
Harry smiled, remembering the first time that he had seen Mrs. Weasley talking to someone in the fireplace. He had also been surprised by that, even thought he had already gotten used to magic. Even to this day, there were still things in the magic world that amazed him. He could totally understand Hermione feeling taken aback by such unexpected thing.
"That's one of the ways we communicate with other wizards. We have other means, but… I reckon we can talk about that later," he said after a while.
Hermione took a few steps away from Harry, thinking about the information he was giving her. Her mother, a witch? That could not be possible. Hermione would've noticed anything out of the ordinary, right? But Hermione's mother had always acted like a normal, regular person.
Seeing the confusion reflected in her expression, Harry placed a hand on her arm. His touch took Hermione out of her reverie.
"You must have the wrong person, Harry," she said. "I mean, I'm not actually saying that I believe this magic… thing. But even if it were true, my mother was an ordinary person. She couldn't have been what you said."
"Listen, I know what I'm telling you," he replied. "Professor McGonagall, who I was talking to in the fireplace, knew her from school. She met your mum at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That's the same school I went to. McGonagall even told me your mum's name, Marie Vaughn."
Hermione's heart fell to her stomach when she heard her mother's name. She searched her brain, tying to remember if she had mentioned it to Harry - although she already knew she hadn't.
"Could this be possible?" she whispered, talking more to herself than to Harry.
"That's not all," Harry said suddenly. "There's something else you need to know."
Hermione looked expectantly at him. What else could there be? Hearing about a part of her mother's life she would've never suspected existed was already too much to swallow.
"Your mum passed on her magic… to you," he said softly. Hermione stared at him for a while without showing any reaction. Afraid she had not heard him, Harry tried again, "You got it as well, Hermione. You're a witch."
Hermione made a disbelieving sound, staring at him. Deep down, she was expecting Harry to say it was all a big joke. She even waited silently for a while to give him the opportunity to end the prank. But Harry didn't say anything to deny it.
"This is not possible," she finally said when she couldn't take his silence any longer.
"Think about it, Hermione. It makes sense. I know you can make things happen. Haven't you ever asked yourself why?"
Hermione looked away, remembering several incidents in which things had happened without explanation. Most of them were minor things she had quickly disregarded. Lately, though, those incidents seemed to have increased in occurrence and in strength. Perhaps Harry was right.
She had always convinced herself that those incidents were nothing but coincidences. Nevertheless, how often could that be a logical explanation? Luck couldn't always be on her side, could it?
Harry was paying close attention to her reactions, hoping to see acceptance in her face. "I felt the same way when I was told I was a wizard," he said. Hermione pushed her thoughts aside to listen to him. "I was just 11. I reckon it's easier to believe in magic when you're younger. I'm asking you to believe, too." He took one of her hands in his. "I swear to you, Hermione. This is real."
"So, you're saying that those instances when unexplainable things happened around me… it was me all along?" she said in a soft voice, afraid to voice it out. "Couldn't it be simple coincidences?"
Harry took a step closer. "Do you honestly believe there could be so many coincidences? I saw what you did: the truck moving on its own, the trashcans suddenly falling. Those were not accidents."
"I can't believe this," she said after a while. "I always had this feeling that somehow it was me, but I didn't want to accept that there was anything wrong with me."
Harry quickly closed the distance between them and cupped her face with his hands, making her look up at him. "There's nothing wrong with you. This is not a disease. It's a gift! There's a whole world out there that you belong to and that has been waiting for you."
Hermione smiled shyly. A whole world? She was not sure whether she wanted to hear about that new world just yet. She first needed to make peace with her self and accept that she was different.
"But don't worry," he said, sensing her doubts. "I'm going to be there with you, every step of the way. I'm going to help you learn everything you need to know."
She nodded at him in agreement but remained silent. Harry closed his arms around her and brought her closer to him. She buried her face in his chest and tried to push her thoughts aside. There was only one thing she was sure of: having Harry at her side gave her comfort and the confidence to go on.
"Why didn't you say anything to me before?" she asked without raising her head.
"I wanted to confirm my suspicion first. I couldn't talk to you until I was completely sure," he replied, gently stroking her hair.
"Is there anything else I need to know?" she asked, looking up at him. "You're not hiding anything else from me, are you?"
Harry looked at her brown eyes. There was one more thing he needed to tell her. He could confess to her at that moment that he had been hired to protect her. But he couldn't bring himself to say it. Gently, he placed a hand on her head and made her resume the embrace.
"Trust me," he whispered in her ear. "Everything will be fine."
…………………………………
About an hour later, Harry and Hermione walked back to the house. Angela already had placed their breakfast on the table, waiting for them. Keith smiled widely as the couple sat at the table. Harry decided not to mention to them that Hermione was not a simple Muggle, after all. He wanted to give her some time to get used to the idea.
"Have some breakfast," Angela said, beckoning for them to serve themselves. "Keith will drive you to town, so you two can take a bus to Chicago."
"But," Harry started to say.
"We know you have no money," Angela quickly interrupted him. "We'll lend you enough to buy the tickets."
"We can't accept that," Hermione intervened.
"You sure can," she replied. "We're more than happy to help you. Besides, knowing you two has already been a great pleasure," she added, giving Harry a significant look.
Harry smiled at her. "It's quite generous of you. Please, let me know if there's anything we could do for you."
Keith and Angela looked at each other for a while. "Well, there's one thing," Keith said tentatively. He walked over to a cabinet and took a camera that had been sitting on the counter. "Would you mind?" he said, showing the camera to them. "Could we take a picture?"
"Sure," Harry finally said, a broad smile on his face.
The Nathans took the opportunity to take several photos of the famous Harry Potter. After they enjoyed their breakfast, Keith and Angela drove them to town.
……………………………………….
Two days after Harry and Hermione had left New York City, they arrived in Chicago. They were totally grateful to the Nathans. They had paid for their bus tickets and given then a few extra dollars to pay a taxi. The sun was shinning brightly when Hermione steeped out of the bus. She thought that was a good sign.
"We're finally here," said Harry as he stood next to her, giving her a warm smile. "So, do you know where your friend lives? What was her name again?"
"Cynthia," Hermione replied as they walked down the street. "I don't remember her address, but… There!" she pointed to a phone booth. "Let's find out."
They reached the booth and Hermione quickly grabbed hold of the directory hanging to the side of the booth. "Let's see," Hermione said under her breath as she run a finger down the page. "Reynolds… Here! This is it."
"Are you sure?" Harry asked.
"Totally," she replied.
Immediately after that, she grabbed Harry's hands and pulled him firmly. They walked to the edge of the sidewalk and called a taxi. Once they were in the backseat, Hermione gave the driver Cynthia's address.
As the taxi drove them through the city, Hermione was eagerly taking it all in. She could hardly wait until Cynthia could show her around. She had already spotted a few places she wanted to see and a few stores she wanted to shop in.
Eventually, the driver took them towards the city limits and into a nice suburban neighborhood. Nicely landscaped grounds surrounded the elegant houses and luxury cars were parked on the driveways.
"No wonder they were able to send their daughter to a boarding school in Europe," Harry said, looking at the neighborhood.
Hermione smiled at him. She was about to respond when the driver pulled over. He parked in front of one of the nicest houses in the block. It was surrounded by a tall iron gate that - fortunately - was open.
Harry quickly paid the driver and followed Hermione out of the car. They stood on the sidewalk for a while, staring at the big house. Hermione shrugged her shoulders, smiling at him. She placed one of her hands in his and was about to pull him forward when Harry's mobile phone rang.
"Hey! It works," Hermione said, letting go of Harry's hand.
"It does," Harry said in a low voice. He could almost bet who it was. Giving Hermione a shaking smile, he took out his phone only to confirm his suspicion. It was Parker.
"Why don't you go knock," he said to Hermione. "Let me get this call, and I'll be there in a minute."
"Sure," she said. Before walking away, she placed a quick kiss on his lips.
Feeling like she was walking on clouds, she headed to the main door. When she reached it, she immediately sounded the doorbell. As she was waiting for someone to open, she glanced at Harry. He was still on the phone, and by his expression, he seemed to be arguing with whoever had called him. She didn't have much time to wonder about it as an old lady dressed with a maid's uniform greeted her.
"Hi," Hermione replied. "Is Cynthia home?"
"Ms. Reynolds?" the maid asked. "She's not home right now, Miss."
"Do you know when she'll be back?" Hermione asked, hoping her friend wouldn't take too long to return home.
"Oh, dear!" the woman said, shaking her head and giving Hermione an apologetic look. "She won't be home for two weeks. She and her parents are on vacation in the Bahamas."
"The Bahamas?" Hermione repeated as a wave of disappointment rushed over her. She mumbled a quick 'thank you' to the lady and headed back to where Harry was. She could not believe it. They had come all this way for nothing. Cynthia was out of town. Hell, she wasn't even in the continent! Sighing resignedly, she shook her head.
Harry was standing with his back to her. Wanting to give him some space to end his call, she remained a few steps away, although she could still hear him clearly.
"I'm tired, too," she heard him say in an upset tone. "Just give me a few hours, okay? I'll call you later and tell you where we are so you can come and get Hermione. Then we can all go home."
Hermione's eyes opened wide. What was he talking about? Better said, who was he talking to? Several wild ideas rushed through her mind at once. Not knowing whether to run away from him or demand an explanation, she remained rooted to the ground.
Just then, Harry turned around to see Hermione standing behind him. Her expression of shock told him she had listened to the conversation. "Call you later," he said just before hanging up.
"Hermione," he said, taking a step towards her.
But Hermione took a step away, avoiding his contact. "Who were you talking to?"
"I can explain everything," he started, but quickly fell silent. He was sad to see that the happy look on her face when they had arrived to Chicago was long gone. A shocked and even afraid expression had replaced it.
"I'm waiting," she said in a firm and cold voice.
Harry sighed. There was no way around it. He had no other choice but to tell her the truth. "It was Parker," he said, looking at his shoes.
"Parker?" Hermione repeated incredulously.
"Yes. He's been trying to find us since the moment we left New York. I was supposed to inform him where we were."
Hermione looked at him questioningly, not sure she understood what he meant. "Who are you?" she asked after a while.
"I'm… I was hired by your father to protect you. He was worried about your safety in this country, and he wanted to have extra security in place. I was to look after you without you knowing it. He decided to give you some controlled liberty and ordered me not to tell you who I was."
Hermione shook her head, refusing to accept his explanation. "No. I… I met you outside the club. You were just…"
"I was waiting for you," he interrupted. "I was supposed to stop you and turn you in to your agents, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I hated to see them treat you like a criminal."
Hermione passed a shaky hand through her forehead. "I can't believe this," she said, walking away from Harry.
Harry walked up to her and placed a hand on her arm. "I couldn't tell you anything. Your father…" he started. But Hermione quickly moved away from him.
"Don't touch me!" she spat at him. "I don't care about what my father did. It's not the first time that he's shown no at all trust in me. But you… you lied to me."
Harry looked down for a while. He understood how she was feeling. But he was also angry at himself. He could've taken the opportunity to tell her everything the night before when Hermione asked him if there was anything else she should know.
"You gained my trust and made me believe you liked me," she continued in a hurt voice. "Everything you said to me… it was all a lie. And to think I almost…"
"No," Harry quickly interrupted her. "Not all of it…"
"I don't believe you!" Harry tried to grab her hand, but she avoided the contact. "Stay away from me," she said in a serious tone. I don't want to see you ever again." She took a couple steps away, but quickly realized she had nowhere to go. Remembering Harry's phone was working again, she turned to him. "May I borrow your phone?" she said in a cold polite way. To Harry, it hurt more than a slap on the face.
He extended the phone out to her. Without taking one step closer, she grabbed it from his hands in a quick movement. She immediately dialed Parker's number.
"Maurice?" she said once he answered. "Can you come get me? I wanna go home."