Stranger Than Fiction
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe and all the characters in it belong to J.K. Rowling. This story is a work of imagination and is directed solely at readers of this website. No infringement of any rights is intended and no criticism of J.K. Rowling or her work should be considered to be stated or implied.
Author's note: Thanks to everyone who has bothered to review. I have to admit I'm a bit nervous about posting this chapter, after the excellent reviews of the last one, as it is fairly low key. However, it's important to move the story along.
For those of you who have asked, I am the same person who posts over at HF. In fact, the inspiration for this story came from an essay I posted over there, but as I continued writing, the story took on a life of its own and headed in a slightly different direction.
Part 4. Harry's Visit
A couple of days after my conversations with Hagrid and Cho, I had still not decided what to do about Hermione; if indeed there was anything that I could do. The beautiful weather that had accompanied my visit to Hogwarts was to continue for the remainder of the week. It seemed that we were having what I believe the Americans call an Indian summer, although what the weather has to do with Indians I have never been quite sure. In any event, by midday an intense yellow sun was blazing down on the rooftops of Hogsmeade, dividing the streets into alternating bands of brightness and shade and the temperature in my small house was rising alarmingly.
I had gone out into my front garden to escape the stuffy confines of the sitting room, and I was just using my wand to guide the few stray yellow leaves, that had already contaminated my lawn, into an open sack, when I noticed a person dressed in baggy clothing crossing the street in the distance and heading in my direction. As the figure got closer, I became aware of the sunlight glinting off of familiar round spectacles and I could make out an unruly mop of black hair that stuck out at unexpected angles, as if styled by an over enthusiastic purveyor of Muggle hair gel. These two observations, when combined, could only mean one thing. It appeared that I was about to receive a visit from Harry Potter.
I have to confess that I have always had a bit of a soft spot for Mr. Potter. Not only because he was a passably good student and the best Quidditch seeker that I have ever seen, but also because he had a remarkable talent for cultivating trouble that was somehow endearing. He and I also shared a mutual distrust of Severus Snape, the Potions Master at Hogwarts, although later events demonstrated that we were both entirely wrong on that count.
"Hello Professor," he called as he drew level with the flaking, white wooden palisade fence that marked the boundary of my property.
"Harry Potter," I exclaimed. "And what brings you here? Have you moved back to Hogwarts as well? Hermione popped in to see me the other day. She tells me that she is back at the school, trying to make up for a bit of lost time."
Harry smiled. "Yes, I know about Hermione, but I'm only paying a flying visit. I'm staying at the Burrow with Ron at the moment. We can't really decide what we want to do. It seemed too soon to come back here and we probably don't really need to, although I must say I was tempted. Ginny came back when term started. After all, she only has one more year to go." He paused, wearing a somewhat self satisfied expression, presumably dwelling on pleasant thoughts concerning the charms of Miss Weasley. "Ron told me that Hermione had been to see you and I thought that I would kill two birds with one stone; a visit to my girlfriend and a visit to the teacher that had the most significant impact on my whole education; the one who gave me my first break at Quidditch."
Stupidly, I found myself blushing. "Well, I can't take too much credit for that," I stammered. "Anyone could see that you were an exceptional flyer. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time."
"That's as may be," Harry grinned, "but I won't ever forget it."
"Would you like to come inside, having come all of this way?" I motioned vaguely in the direction of the front door, which was standing slightly ajar.
"No. It's too nice to sit inside. Why don't we pay a visit to the garden at the Three Broomsticks?" he proposed. "We can have a butterbeer or just a coffee, if you prefer. My treat."
"That sounds lovely, dear," I replied enthusiastically.
As the weather was so warm and there was no sign to suggest rain later in the day, I did not bother to get my cloak and hat. I just tied up the sack with one wave of my wand, closed and locked the front door with another and then Harry and I set off along the road that led into the centre of Hogsmeade. We chatted easily as we walked over the uneven cobbles of the path, basking in the warm sunshine, while laughing about Harry's early escapades at school and arguing over the value of the different subjects that he had been taught.
"Well," I said, as we completed a particularly heated exchange about the value of Herbology, "all of those plant names may have been complicated, but it is a good way to develop your memory. A good memory is essential if you are to have instant access to the widest possible repertoire of spells."
"I suppose you're right," Harry finally conceded, "but it still used to make my head hurt. We had far too many other things to remember. Just keeping track of the password to get into the Gryffindor common room was hard enough for me. I can't tell you how much time I wasted hanging around outside waiting for someone else to come along and let me in."
"That is because you never paid attention. You were always too busy interfering in matters that were rightly no concern of yours," I scolded.
Harry clearly wasn't in the mood to agree. "No, it's because they were always stupid. I liked Dumbledore's approach. The password for his office always seemed to be linked to one of his favourite sweets. Now, that's how passwords should be thought up."
I sniffed, unconvinced. However, I couldn't help noticing how much more confident and self assured Harry seemed than when I had last seen him. Clearly, his newly won freedom and peace of mind were having a positive effect. While we talked, I thought back to my conversations with Hermione, Hagrid and Cho and planned my strategy for quizzing Harry about the matters that were now troubling me such a great deal.
Once we got to the Three Broomsticks, I took my place at one of the rustic, wooden bench tables that were dotted around the garden and Harry went inside to get two butterbeers. The garden of the Three Broomsticks was a charming place, with a neatly trimmed stretch of grass, dappled with wild flowers and with sufficient heavily-branched deciduous trees established amongst the tables to provide natural shade in the summer. A number of colourful hanging baskets, still festooned with blossoms of pink, red and white, decorated the facings of the building, completing an idyllic country scene. Only the traditional village pond, complete with obligatory ducks, was missing.
Once Harry had returned and had vaulted into the seat opposite me, thankfully after first putting the foaming mugs of butterbeer carefully down on the table, I prepared to turn our conversation to more pressing affairs.
"So, you are not sure what you are going to do now, Harry?" I asked as my opening gambit.
Harry leaned back, letting the sun play across his face, looking more relaxed and contented than I think that I had ever seen him. "No, but one thing's for sure. I just want a quiet life, at least for a while. I think that I have had enough excitement, stress and hassle to last me a lifetime. Two lifetimes actually, since strictly speaking I've been killed once already."
"Yes, I'm not at all surprised, dear. I'm sure that you just want to spend time with your friends. Speaking of which, do you see much of Ronald and Hermione these days?" I enquired innocently.
"Well, as I said, I've been staying with Ron at the Burrow for a while, but I haven't seen Hermione for some time; not since she came back up here at least," Harry replied truthfully, disarmed by the subtlety of my approach.
"And will you be seeing her while you're up here?" I continued doggedly.
"I doubt it. I've really come mainly to see Ginny," he answered, beginning to look slightly uncomfortable with my questions. "Now that they're dating, Ron gets a bit nervous if Hermione and I spend too much time alone together. Ginny isn't too keen on it either," he laughed uneasily.
"Oh, that's a pity. Hermione was only saying the other day that she was sorry that she didn't see so much of you now. And I always thought that the two of you were such good friends." I dangled my bait in front of him.
"Well, we are," he replied defensively. "Hermione will always be special to me. We've been through a lot together and I don't think that I could have managed without her. She was the only person who never really doubted me, even though she had ample reason to." A look of contrition suddenly appeared on his face and he hurriedly continued, "No offense, Professor. I never had any doubts about you either."
"I never thought for one moment that you did dear," I said, smiling. "And what about Ginny Weasley? Is she special too?"
Harry became flustered. "Of course she is, but…there really isn't any comparison. The truth is that I think of Ginny and Hermione entirely differently. Ginny is my girlfriend and Hermione…well, Hermione is…" Harry paused, thoughtfully, as he tried to find the right words.
"Look…" he started again unconvincingly, "…I once told Ron that I thought of Hermione like a sister and that's exactly…" he paused again and a slightly bemused expression spread across his face. "Well, that's not entirely true, if I'm honest. I mainly said that to appease Ron. I just couldn't take any more agro, particularly when I had more pressing matters that I needed to focus on, like how to deal with Voldemort. In any case," he wondered aloud, "I've never had a sister, so how would I know?" He shrugged, but then suddenly seemed to snap back to reality. "Anyway, that really isn't the point. What you have to realize is that Ron always fancied Hermione. It seemed obvious to me from very early on, even when he wasn't really aware of it himself. So, things are a bit complicated. And Hermione clearly likes Ron, so that's the end of the story. I never was one for playing gooseberry and I don't need to when I can spend my time with Ginny without any fuss and everybody's happy."
"Well…" I began carefully, realizing the significance of my next words, "…in that case, I must have gotten hold of the wrong end of the stick. You see, I could have sworn that Miss Granger thinks just as much of you as she does of Mr. Weasley. Probably more, in fact."
Harry didn't respond immediately. He frowned and simply stared at me, unblinking behind the thick lenses of his spectacles. For a few moments he became as animated as a realistically painted statue.
"Harry, dear…" I began again, worried that I might have gone too far, but my interjection seemed to galvanize him back into action.
"It's not like that Professor," he insisted with a shake of his head, clearly agitated. "Look, I know that you mean well, but you just don't understand how things are."
"Well, perhaps you're right and I should mind my own business. Is that what you're trying to tell me dear?" I attempted to sound mildly offended, calculating how to draw the truth out of him.
"No, I didn't mean that," he replied in an exasperated tone. "The thing is, Professor, Hermione knows that if she ever needs me, I'll always be there for her."
"Are you sure about that, Harry?" I questioned. "If that really is the case then, given my recent conversation with her, I think that Hermione needs you now. She needs to know that you still care about her and want her to remain part of your life."
Harry sighed, seemingly concerned, but gave no indication that he accepted my suggestion.
"At least promise me that you will go and talk to her while you're here, Harry," I pressed.
Harry looked away, suddenly intent on his surroundings. However, finding no salvation there, he finally turned back to face me. "OK, Professor," he reluctantly agreed.
"No, Harry, that's not good enough," I persisted. "You must give me your promise that you will see her."
"All right! All right, Professor. I promise that I will go and see her. Are you satisfied now?" Harry acquiesced with an angry frown.
I was actually very satisfied and I smiled accordingly.
With that, Harry tried to steer the conversation into safer waters about my plans and what was going to happen to Hogwarts and I was content to let him, believing that I had done all that I could. You see in my misguided view, everything seemed simple now. Harry and Hermione would meet, realize their undoubted feelings for each other, give up their relationships with the Weasleys and then live happily ever after. Subsequent events were to prove that I was a very poor judge of the interpersonal dynamics within their little group, but in my defense, I really had no way of knowing this at the time. As far as I was concerned, I had worked my magic and I had done as much as I could for Harry and Hermione. I therefore decided that it was time for me to move on and get my own life in order. With this in mind, a few days later, I gave notice on my rental in the village and, after a further four weeks, I left Hogsmeade and Hogwarts for good.
Given this contented outlook, you can therefore imagine my surprise, if not horror, when about twelve months later I picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet and saw the announcement of the impending marriage of Miss Ginerva Weasley to Mr. Harold Potter. I felt physically sick as I read the details of the arrangements and I couldn't quite understand what could possibly have gone wrong.
After I had moved away from Hogsmead, I had lived in London for a short period and I had then decided that I would indulge myself with a leisurely world tour before settling down in some quiet, undemanding place. Thankfully, my tour was still in progress, although nearing its end, and I was going to be in Australia at the time that the wedding was to take place. This gave me a good excuse to avoid attending the ceremony, although, obviously, I could have easily gotten there if I had so desired. However, I couldn't face trying to pretend that I was happy about the union and I found that I could also not bear the thought of seeing Hermione at such a time, as I was sure that she must be upset. As a result, I sent a special long distance owl with a hollow message of congratulations and with my insincere apologies for my absence and I also forwarded the obligatory useful gift, destined to end up stored away at the back of a cupboard somewhere with other similar unwanted items.
After this unexpected shock, I was less traumatized by the further announcement, some two months after Harry and Ginny's wedding, of the upcoming marriage of Miss Hermione Granger and Mr. Ronald Weasley. Although I was now back in England, I again found that I didn't have the stomach to attend and sent a message of apology, citing incapacity due to illness. To be honest, although the announcements of these marriages upset me for a short while, when I thought things over, I was not too concerned. I was so certain that these two couples were unsuited that I thought, in my ignorance, that their marriages would be short lived. Although I felt sympathy over the anguish that these four young people would undoubtedly endure, I was confident that all would work out well in the end.
But, the recent revelations from Melissa meant that I now had to seriously question my judgment. Could I really have been so wrong?