Chapter Thirty
CLARA LEWICK
Author's Note: Having trouble uploading this one. I think it might be too long. Part one of two.
* * *
"We're going outside?" Hermione hissed. "We could chalk being around the castle at this hour as prefect duties, but outside? Outside?"
"What, is `outside' a new word you learned today?" Ron quipped, stepping behind her and pushing her forward with the palm of his hand. "Look, we're not even going to leave the courtyard. You see that wall over there? Right through it."
"Right through the wall?" said Hermione uncertainly.
"That's how I found Ron and Anna out in the first place," said Harry reassuringly. "Just think of it as the barriers at King's Cross Station, okay?"
"Okay," said Hermione uncertainly. "What about Professor Sprout? How do we know she's not going to barge in at any moment?"
"Marauder's Map," said Ron. "Besides, she seems to prefer Private Garden Two. I've never once seen her go into the others. Through the wall now, quick as you can." Ron shoved Hermione forward, and through the wall she went.
"You don't have to prod her along," said Harry in disgust. "She was going."
"Not fast enough," said Ron, grinning. "If you'd rather be the one guiding her along, be my guest, Potter. She's only your girlfriend after all." He, too, passed into the garden before Harry could do anything to hurt him. Shaking his head, Harry walked right into the wall and stepped onto the cobblestone path on the other side.
"Wow," Hermione was saying, "it's so beautiful here! Oooh... there's both magical and non-magical plants here! Roses, in with Saes flowers, and lilies, in with... wow! It's simply magical!"
"Yeah, you wouldn't have expected that here," said Ron, striding purposefully down the path toward the center of the garden. He turned his head and grinned at Hermione. "Anna calls it romantic. Maybe that's what you're looking for?"
"It's beautiful," said Hermione again. She was so taken with the surrounding greenery that she nearly tripped over an uneven place in the path. Harry caught her just in time, which brought about all the usual sniggers from Ron.
Harry and Hermione followed Ron down the worn pathway to the center of the garden. It was the same route that Harry had followed the day that he had discovered the garden and therefore walked in on Ron and Anna, but it felt as if he were discovering the place for the very first time. The flowers had changed from what they once were, and Harry couldn't fault Hermione for calling it a magical place. In fact, there was something about the area that Harry wanted to identify as even more magical than the rest of the castle.
"Fiaxus," whispered Hermione as they walked down the path. She seemed to be in absolute awe of her surroundings. "Pixie Wings. Snapper's Herb. Red and White Feather Drops." Harry felt her squeeze his hand suddenly. "Isn't this place amazing?"
"Do you really know what all of those things are?" said Harry, still holding her hand. With the other, he gestured at the different flowers she had just mentioned. Hermione blushed.
"Yes," she said shyly.
"Come on you two," called Ron. "Stop flirting."
Harry blushed and quickly dropped Hermione's hand. If it hadn't been for the slight color on her cheeks, he would have thought that Ron's comment hadn't fazed her. He glanced ahead. There was the great tree that Harry was now sure served as Ron and Anna's exact meeting spot because she was sitting under it, an aged leather book in her hands.
"Ron!" exclaimed Anna, hopping up and hugging him tightly. Harry shielded his eyes.
"Um, yes," said Ron a moment later. "It's nice to see you, too."
"Hey Anna," said Hermione brightly, seizing Harry's hand again but only to drag him forward into the expanse of cobblestone before the tree.
Anna smiled, albeit hesitantly, and Harry was suddenly struck by the thought that this was probably a bit odd for her. Ron saw Harry and Hermione every day, but she hadn't seen them for ages, and they probably had reason to believe that she was positively insane for keeping her and Ron's relationship a secret. (For the record, neither Harry nor Hermione understood this, but it wasn't like Ron seemed to, either.) Hermione seemed to pick up on Anna's nervousness as well, and she hugged the younger girl reassuringly.
"It's great to see you again, Anna," said Hermione brightly.
"Hey Anna," said Harry, giving her a little wave. Anna smiled shyly, which wasn't at all unusual, and she clutched Ron's hand, pulling him over to the base of the tree. Harry followed, kneeling on the paved area in front of it.
It was then that he noticed there were actually seven of the leather-bound books. Harry looked at them curiously as Hermione took a seat next to him. He looked to Anna, waiting for an explanation, and was a little surprised at what he saw. She was more or less sitting in Ron's lap, and he was whispering something or another into her ear, which made her smile.
It shouldn't have struck Harry as odd because they were dating, but it did because they appeared even closer than they had been before Anna had "called it off." Anna laughed suddenly, shot Ron a look that was clearly meant to be stern, and elbowed him slightly. Ron pretended to be hurt, but then he wrapped his arms around her waist and cleared his throat.
"Well?" he said, grinning.
"Er-hi!" said Anna, waving a little. She sounded nervous again and grabbed for the book. From its innermost pages, she pulled a piece of parchment that she had been using as a bookmark. "Er... so anyway... Ron kind of told me that you had heard some stuff about Clara Lewick, and that you kind of wanted to know more about her, and since she would have been my aunt and all, I wrote to my other aunt and... I'm rambling, I know." Anna's cheeks flushed as she pushed a very curly strand of red hair behind her ear.
"No, you're doing great," said Hermione reassuringly.
Ron decided to step in then. "I told her about the pictures and the initials on this tree back here." He turned around a little and patted its trunk. "And what little we do know about Clara. I guess we're assuming a lot, that she dated Professor Lupin, all that stuff."
"She did," said Anna automatically, going redder. "Well, when I wrote to my Aunt Vanessa, I assumed she'd send back a page of generic information about Clara, if she wrote back about her at all. I should have known better, though, because my aunt never does anything halfway. She sent me back these-" Anna indicated the books "-journals Clara kept here at Hogwarts. I've read through the first three-sorry, I was curious-and am nearly through the fourth. I got them on Tuesday, but I didn't want Ron here distracted from his O.W.L.s for even a minute."
"Everyone seems to hold the opinion that I am easily distractible," said Ron forlornly. Anna patted his leg.
"You are, sweetie," she said, smiling all the while. She looked shyly to Harry and Hermione. "I don't know if this will help you, but I figured it was worth a shot."
"Well, you heard about the pictures someone sent Harry, didn't you?" said Hermione. Anna nodded. "They were charmed with a message, and concealed, so it seems to me that someone is trying to tell us something."
"That what I thought," said Anna, "when Ron told me. If you think these might help you, you're welcome to read them." She blushed. "Maybe you'll do better than me. They're fascinating, but I feel strangely guilty reading them. I don't know if they were meant to be read."
"Diaries usually aren't," said Harry, really speaking for the first time that evening. "The other aunt you mentioned-Vanessa. Is she going to mind us reading them?"
Anna shook her head. "After-After Clara died," she paused, gathering herself, "her roommates sorted through her stuff and sent it home. My grandma couldn't stand to see it, so she ended up putting it in storage without looking at any of it. Aunt Vanessa found it when she was helping Grandmother clean out her attic and took it home with her. She said she's been meaning to read them, but she hadn't the heart. She wants me to, though. She says Clara and I are a lot alike."
"What does she mean by that?" Ron wondered. "Was this Clara smart, sweet, and beautiful just the same?"
"Ron!" Anna exclaimed, her cheeks going pink again. Harry grinned at Ron, and Hermione had a pleased sort of smile on her face. She grinned at him, and Harry knew that they were thinking along the same lines. It did seem that Ron had met his perfect match. "Anyway, if you want to start reading..."
"Can I start from the beginning?" said Hermione, just as Harry made the same request. Ron smiled down at Anna.
"Can you just fill me in on the beginning and let me read over your shoulder?" he asked in, using the same tone of voice Harry and Hermione had.
"I'll just do that with you?" said Harry hopefully to Hermione. She nodded, and Anna passed them the first of the diaries. It was the most tattered of the seven, although each one of them looked well worn. She hesitated for just a second.
"Lily Evans is your mother," said Anna hesitantly. Harry nodded. "I figured as much. She was one of Clara's roommates. Your father-I know his name was James. He's in there as well. Er... Clara doesn't seem to like him so much at first."
"Aw, well," said Harry, smiling in spite of this. "Lupin and Siri-Snuffles said that he was quite the prankster back then. He probably charmed her hair a hideous color or put a levitation hex on her."
"Actually, he bewitched her trunk," said Anna.
Hermione, meanwhile, had gone to open the diary. The covers would separate from the pages, but the pages seemed to be stuck all together. "Anna?" said Hermione curiously.
"Oh!" said Anna suddenly. "They're all enchanted. It took me a moment to realize it myself. You see, my... well, I believe she was my great-great-great-great aunt was very talented with personalized charms, and she made one for the Lewick family. I'll take care of that." And, whipping out her wand, Anna began to say a very long and interesting incantation:
"Re'em hair and dragon hide,
Family name, family honor, family pride.
A secret message or special note, behold,
Speak incantation and it will unfold.
Dry Lydia's tears and remember Elaine,
For Lewicks rise above the pain.
Patefacius!"
The book sprung open at once; the pages fanned themselves out as ink glistened and dried on their surfaces. Then, the book shut again. Hermione opened it back up. This time, the pages turned easily. Anna looked embarrassed.
"My Auntie Enid," said Anna quickly, "fancied herself something of a poet. I don't know how successful she was, but there you have it. It's useful, really. My mum's never once used it that I know of, but Aunt Vanessa thinks it's just lovely and taught me it ages ago."
"Well, even if you don't think her poetry was up to scratch," said Hermione briskly, "you certainly have to admire her charm work. I would say that's a modified Confudcel Charm. That's beyond N.E.W.T. level, isn't it?" Anna nodded, and Hermione grinned. "And being able to work the incantation for the revel charm is even above O.W.L."
"It's just something I've always done," said Anna with a genuine modesty Harry had long since come to expect from her. She had always struck him as shy, if not overly cautious, but very sweet. Ron kissed the top of her head.
"I believe we were going to do some light reading on the past," he said. "I, for one, am eager for some interesting stories about Professor Lupin and... yeah, about Professor Lupin."
"Honestly, Ron," Harry heard Hermione mutter under her breath. She said something else that sounded like "Snuffles." Anna was looking at them curiously but didn't say anything. She opened Clara's fourth diary again.
"Ron?" she prompted gently. In whispers, she began to tell him all that she knew about Clara Lewick. Harry pulled Hermione back and put an arm casually around her.
"You don't mind me reading with you?" he checked. "I read so much slower."
"I'm sure it won't be a problem," said Hermione, resting her head against his shoulder. She gestured to Ron and Anna and quickly whispered, "She's good for him."
"I think he's pretty okay for her as well," said Harry, grinning. He dared to kiss her on the cheek for the moment.
"What was that for?"
"Er," said Harry nervously, "just because."
Hermione didn't say anything else. She just smiled, and opened Clara's diary to the first page.
* * *
September the first, 1971
I'm at Hogwarts! I'm finally, finally at Hogwarts! I'm finally where Rae and Vanessa were, and where Joseph and Remus are! I've been waiting for this day for as long as I can remember, and it's finally here!
Much to Mum's amusement and Joseph's horror, I was up much earlier than I really needed to be, and had them out the door quite early as well. I was so excited, but Mum made me so sad on the platform. It was her very first time to be left there alone. She was acting so proud of me, and so happy for me, but I've never seen her look so lonely. Rae and Vanessa have been gone for ages, and Joseph and I are both at Hogwarts now. It's just the Lupins for company now, not that they're bad at all, but I like Remus best, and he's here with me.
I sat with Remus on the Express, Remus and his friends. They've taken to calling themselves something or another special, but they won't use any of it near me, so I'll just call them by their proper names-James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew. James and Sirius are troublemakers. They greeted me by bewitching my trunk. It danced circles until they were immersed in a game of Exploding Snap. Hah! I took that moment to set my trunk on them. (Maybe that'll teach them not to mess with first years!) Peter's a more pleasant sort. In his kind way, Remus says Peter just needs more work. He's not so brilliant, but at least he doesn't seek trouble as the other two do!
The castle is grander, more magnificent than even Remus's drawings made it out to be. It's at a lake, and the first years always cross in boats. Remus bid me good luck (I rather think Dad may have departed this earth just after giving Remus orders to look out for me). Joseph hoped I would be in Slytherin with him, but told me I could go to him for anything no matter what.
But Slytherin was the only house that the Sorting Hat didn't want to put me in. (Needless to say, Joseph was lying-fighting a Lethifold off isn't a part of the Sorting.) It talked itself out of Hufflepuff-Vanessa's old house, but I very thought I would end up in Ravenclaw. That's where Rae was, but I didn't really want to be in Ravenclaw because I didn't yet know anyone. I got my wish in the end-Gryffindor, with Remus! A Lewick for every house, isn't that something?
Dinner was wonderful, but I was quite startled when Gryffindor's ghost, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, popped his partially severed head through my plate. James and Sirius call him Nearly Headless Nick, which I think is just awful. No respect, those two, none at all. They were actually making effort in kindness but it didn't last long! Peter asked me about the Sorting Hat, and the first thing James did was open his mouth to boast that ALL Potters are Gryffindors. Well, I said that my parents went to Beauxbatons, and I've a sibling in every house, and I wanted Slytherin if not Gryffindor. I didn't think I'd hear an end to it! James is lucky Remus stopped me because after all he said about Slytherin, I was just what I thought of his "Gryffindor pride!" Remus says I should let it go, James and Slytherin, but he won't tell me why. Well, he best, if he really wants me to refrain!
Fortunately, the company of my roommates is much better than Remus's friends. Theresa Angier is in my year, but Lily Evans, Nicole Frank, and Audra Brown are Remus's age, which is one year older. I especially like Lily, she's very welcoming and smart. She's very nearly my favorite person already, besides Remus of course.
-Clara
It took Harry twice as long to read the first two and a half pages of Clara's diary as it did Hermione, but she didn't say a thing. She started to turn the page, but he caught her hand before she got a chance to do so.
"Hey Anna," Harry called. "Is Rae your mother or is Joseph your father?"
Anna, who had been kissing Ron, looked startled. "Er," she said quickly, very embarrassed. "My Mum's Rae, and my dad's Daniel. They were married then. Clara also mentions Stephen and Conrad and Patrick-they're all my brothers."
"Ah yes," said Harry weakly. He felt rather guilty for having caught her and Ron off-guard. Hermione seemed to pick up on this.
"They're not embarrassed to be together, Harry," she pointed out, flipping the page at last.
Harry soon discovered that Clara kept a very thorough record of events. She wrote about everything and anything, and she wrote every day. It was November before there was a day without an entry, and the next day she noted it was because she'd spent all day in the hospital wing with a broken arm after getting hexed inadvertently as two older students dueled in the hallway.
Together, Harry and Hermione followed Clara through her first lessons, flying and otherwise. It seemed that McGonagall hadn't changed a bit in nearly twenty-five years. She didn't favor her own house while the other heads did, and her course hadn't changed much either. A pleasant but nearly deaf man, Professor Circus Cyer, taught Defense, and the Potions master seemed only slightly more likeable than Snape. His name was Philo Archer, and he had horrible skin problems. Clara noted hastily-they could tell this due to her handwriting-that Remus was visiting his mother on several different occasions. Gryffindor won its first match of the season, and Harry's father scored some six goals. Clara didn't seem all too pleased with James and Sirius for their "negative influence on Remus," but she tolerated them nonetheless. It didn't seem that Hogwarts had changed so much over the years.
December the second, 1971
It's a full moon tonight and I'm worried about Remus as always. I wish I could be straight with him and tell him that I know, but I rather think it would upset him. He's dead scared that we'll hate him if we find out. It's all a load of rubbish, I read up on it years ago and figured it out then. Living where we do, it's no surprise that Remus was bitten.
I won't be hanging out with James and Sirius and Peter tonight, that's for certain. They're ready minds, James and Sirius, but they never apply themselves to anything but practical jokes. I really think one of them has an invisibility cloak, the way they're sneaking out all the time. (And getting Remus to go along with it! Do you know what Mrs. Lupin would say to that?) James or Sirius might, but it's so hard to distinguish between those two! I've said it before and I'll say it again, they might very well share a brain.
No, I'll spend tonight with Lily. I'm weeks ahead in Transfigurations, McGonagall already has me turning mice to snuffboxes, which pleases her. So Lily said she'd show me some second year spells. She's rather curious about our family privacy spell. I think she's keen to write her own. I told her most seventh years wouldn't be able to, but she just laughed and said she'll have years to work on it then.
We've got this week of classes and next before holiday. Mum's an awful mess, Joseph wants to stay here for the holiday, which is very peculiar. Rae doesn't think she'll be able to get up for Christmas, says they may go to Daniel's parents. I'm pleased to avoid him, but I wanted to see the boys. Stephen's just turned seven, yesterday in fact, can you believe?
-Clara
Harry and Hermione shared a look as they paged onto Clara's next entry. It seemed that Clara did, indeed, know of Remus's true nature.
"Finally," said Hermione, pleased, "someone else that understands there's nothing wrong with most werewolves."
Their very own Potions master made his appearance exactly three days before term ended for Christmas holiday. He had been mentioned, of course, as a nemesis of James and Sirius and Remus and Peter, but things seemed to heat up on that Thursday afternoon. When James called Snape a fool, Snape had hit him with an awful burning hex. The whole incident, according to Clara, "was a whooping show of immaturity." It left her mad at all involved, including Remus, who had been very clearly established as her best and oldest friend.
December the nineteenth, 1971
Well, it's home at last, and I don't think I've known anything so wonderful. I've missed Mum to tears, and it was great to see Vanessa as well. She was with Mum at Platform Ten and One Half. I felt so bad to Mum-Joseph had promised her in the end that he'd come, but he didn't turn up on the platform this morning in Hogsmeade. I didn't know otherwise, figured he was with the lot of his friends. Turns that he'd sent an express owl to Mum from Hogsmeade yesterday to say he had business at school. I'm so upset with him as well, hurting her like that, and he didn't even say why he had to stay. Mum was in tears from the time she got it to the time I got there. She didn't want me to know, but Vanessa told me anyway.
We made cakes and biscuits all afternoon, and Remus even dropped by. He's so much nicer with James and Sirius not around, so I accepted his apology. He says that his friends are the greatest, but I don't believe that.
I've very nearly finished the scarf I've been knitting Mum to go with the gloves I finished a few months back. I think she'll love them so, she loves knitted things but can't do it for anything herself, not even with magic. They're the same purple as before, which I already know goes well with her traveling cloak. I stole away to the closet and checked the gloves to it.
-Clara
Clara at Christmastime reminded Harry very much of Hermione. It seemed that nearly all of her presents had been books, and it seemed that she couldn't have been happier about this. Hermione had been delighted to see that Clara had listed out nearly all the titles she'd received because she had some of the same books. (Harry didn't see how this was a reason for such glee, but he went with it because he rather liked seeing Hermione happy.)
It wasn't long before Clara was back at Hogwarts, and nothing eventful happened for a long time as long as one didn't account for the scuffle she had gotten in with Harry's father. James had come out of it with pink feathers; Clara spent four hours locked in a broom closet before anyone realized her missing. It was about the usual, of course-Slytherin.
"Your father's being very rash, Harry," said Hermione when he completed the passage. "He's not giving her a chance at all."
"I know what my dad was doing," said Harry shortly. He had been overcome by a sudden feeling that James might have been justified in his dislike. "Slytherins aren't any better today, Hermione."
"Ben is nice enough," said Hermione logically. "It's not a bad house. The people just aren't so pleasant."
Harry smirked. "That's what this is all about."
They read on, Hermione nestled very securely under Harry's arm. Before long, Harry found himself doing quick calculations between passages. 1971 was the second year of Voldemort's first reign, yet there hadn't been any mention of the Dark Lord's rise to power. Hermione turned to the next page, and it seemed that Harry had thought too soon.
April the twenty-seventh, 1972
Today was just awful, and it didn't help that Daddy died one year ago today.
The Dark Lord raided a Muggle town last night and killed thirty-nine people. Thirty-nine poor people who didn't know a thing about witches or wizards, let alone the war we're engaged in. People that didn't know a thing about the stupid git that's turned the entire wizarding community upside down! It was in the Daily Prophet this morning. It's like the other articles they've run recently, according to Lily. He's devastated so much now that everyone's too afraid to call him Voldemort anymore. I can't help but agree-You-Know-Who sounds less intimidating. Lily still calls him Voldemort, but she's Muggle-born, of course. She didn't grow up hearing about Grindelwald, and... Well, we've just starting saying his name again, haven't we?
I don't know what else to say about today. It just doesn't seem right to complain about my Potions exam or go on about how fun Professor Flitwick tried to make class today. It's just an awful day all around, and I think we should just skip right over it. Even worse, there's a full moon tomorrow. Remus isn't himself, he never is, and I know it must scare him. I just wish it were anyone but him. He feels so responsible for what he is.
Not that I'd wish it on a single soul except perhaps the Dark Lord or one of his followers, I dare say that James could learn something about responsibility from Remus. He was all hung up this morning, but by afternoon he'd twice tried to hex me with a tickling charm. Hah. Some truce.
-Clara
April the twenty-eighth, 1972
I'm never ever going to think any day being as bad as it could get again because today was so much more awful than yesterday could ever hope to be. Thinking of all those poor Muggles that died yesterday, I don't know if I even have the right to say that. I just can't stop crying. It's all Joseph's fault. (And I finally understand James.)
I thought that I could go to Joseph for anything, so I went to him after class today. I couldn't sleep last night because I kept thinking about Dad, and You-Know-Who, and all those poor Muggles. I caught him on his way to Quidditch practice, but he made time for me like he always has.
But when I stopped talking about Dad and started talking about You-Know-Who's latest, he was totally cold to me. It scared me so much, what he said! He referred to all the dead people as "just Muggles," and he said that it was all for the best, even if I couldn't see it yet. I was horrified, to say the least.
But Joseph wasn't done yet. When I told him that he wasn't being himself, he snapped off with, "Maybe this is who I am, Clara." He said some other stuff, but I can't remember so much of it. He says that You-Know-Who has the right idea, and all gains will eventually be through him. I don't know what to do! Joseph seems like he's in the league with them all of a sudden! I want to write to Mum, but would she ever believe me?
I wanted to tell someone, maybe Remus, but he'd already been carted away for his transformation. I really wish I could talk to him about that as well, but I just needed to talk to someone! I was in a right state, I'm sure, all teary-eyed. Sirius and Peter were in detention, but James was sitting alone in the common room. He acted human for once, and asked me what was wrong. I hadn't meant to, but I told him rather everything.
James was so cold at first-accused me of being in the league with You-Know-Who as well! I started yelling at him, I couldn't help but defend Joseph, and that's what really set James off. He started yelling at me again and stormed off. I was so angry then, more angry than afraid, and I went up to my room. Lily asked me what was wrong right away, and I told her as well.
And you know what she said? "Well, you shouldn't expect anything less of James, Clara. Don't you remember the raid on the Ministry convention around this time last spring? James's two oldest brothers were killed by You-Know-Who."
Now I just feel so awful. I feel so bad for James, and I'm so scared for Joseph, and I haven't a clue about what to do. I don't know how I feel about Slytherin now. James might just have been right all alone.
-Clara
Harry finished the passage after Hermione, of course, and he understood at once why it had felt that she was looking at him nearly the whole time. It was one of the first decent entries regarding his father, but it was the saddest they'd read yet. The pages it was written it were wrinkled, and the ink smudged. It seemed that Clara really had shed tears over this entry. Harry just felt that he'd been hit in the stomach. So this was what had become of his family.
"Harry?" said Hermione timidly. She had turned in his embrace, and then she hugged him for real.
"I'm okay," he said when they let go of each other. Hermione touched a hand to his face.
"Are you sure?"
Harry managed a hollow smile. "I know what happened to my dad's family now, at least, right?"
"Oh Harry," said Hermione sadly. Harry pulled her close to him. He needed her right there. He'd never known his father's brothers. He hadn't even known that his father had brothers, so he wasn't grieving for them. Rather he was upset, shaken by what he never gotten a chance to know.
Clara's diary went on, and her first year of Hogwarts ended yet again. Hermione began to seem more and more like her counterpart as she recorded her final grades for the year. She'd received perfect scores and above in every subject.
The summer began, and Clara continued to immaculately record the days of her lives. The relationship that she had shared with Remus became much more understandable. They were, indeed, childhood friends.
Harry and Hermione got to know their longest-standing Defense professor as he was in his youth, a quiet soul who loved to draw, be outside, and spend time at the Lewicks.
Joseph didn't really get mentioned. He had not come home to Essendon at the conclusion of his seventh year of Hogwarts. He had simply walked away from his mother and sister on the platform without a word being said.
Clara's first diary ended on a warm August afternoon. She promised to write more on the day after next, once she'd had a chance to purchase a new book in Diagon Alley. "I could always expand this one," she had written, "but I'd want to do it myself, and I can't do magic away from Hogwarts."
Harry stood up first when they'd finished the diary. He offered Hermione a hand, pulling her up with him. He glanced at his watch. It was well after midnight, and the light in the garden was very dim. Ron and Anna had been reading the last time he'd looked up, but they were now holding hands and talking very quietly under the tree.
"It's really late," Ron was saying. "Shouldn't you be going to bed?"
"I'm not so tired," said Anna. She sounded alert still. Not wanting to interrupt them, Harry cleared his throat halfheartedly.
"Er," said Harry, handing Anna back the diary, "Hermione and I finished this one."
"Oh," said Anna. She bit her lip before passing him the second diary. "I couldn't keep reading. I kept thinking that she died at the end of it all, that she never got farther in life than this castle. I know, it's awful, but I couldn't do it." She laughed nervously, and Harry noticed that Ron had started to rub her back the same way he would do to Hermione to make her feel better about something. "I never liked reading books if I knew how they ended."
Suddenly, Harry understood the emotion that had kept coming back to him in the last three and a half hours. Clara was an amazing writer, and her life was very interesting, but none of that could change the fact that she was dead now. The second volume of Clara's diary felt heavy in his hands. He glanced at Hermione. Her warm brown eyes were sympathetic at first, but they came into understanding.
"I'm going to walk Anna back to Ravenclaw," said Ron suddenly, helping his girlfriend up.
"You're welcome to keep reading," said Anna sincerely. "I just couldn't. I've written the charm down for Ron. He should be able to open it." She looked apologetically at Harry and Hermione. "You know how family Confudcel Charms work-you either have to have the blood or have the love of someone that does." Ron's arm tightened around her, and she waved before heading off with him.
"I'll be back," Ron called over his shoulder. Hermione started to say something about getting caught, but Ron silenced her. "Do you honestly think I would have left without Harry's cloak?"
And so Ron and Anna left, and Harry was left turning an old leather bound book over and over in his hands. He probably would have kept it up if Hermione hadn't caught his arm.
"Harry," she said softly.
"I want to keep reading," he said forlornly. "What kind of person does that make me? These are someone's private thoughts, someone who isn't even alive today to give permission to her works. I know how the story ends, but I want to keep going."
"Of course you do," said Hermione, wrapping her arms around Harry's neck. "You never got to know your parents, and you've only had a handful of glimpses into their lives before this. It's the same as it's always been for you. You can look back to when they were happy and carefree, but you've had to become used to the idea that no amount of reminiscing can bring them back."
Harry hugged her back. Of course she knew exactly how she felt. He took a deep breath, catching a whiff of flowers and fruit that he knew was more her shampoo than the garden. Standing there in moonlight that was neither artificial nor real, Harry wanted to come to terms with something from deep inside.
"Hermione," whispered Harry.
"Yes?"
"I just wanted you to know about earlier-that kiss," said Harry softly. "I didn't mean to kiss you, but I'm not sorry."
And, for what it was worth, Hermione said, "Me neither."
* * *
She had kissed him then, and they'd stumbled back to the Gryffindor Tower under his father's invisibility cloak. He'd held her hand then, but that wasn't so unusual. One of them had had enough sense to trod up the stairs to the back entrance of the prefect common room as not to not be told off by the Fat Lady. They settled down on the couch together to read the diary detailing Clara's second year at Hogwarts.
August the seventeenth, 1972
Mum was really embarrassed today in Diagon Alley because we had to buy my Hogwarts things for this year secondhand, but I don't see how it's a big deal. Mr. Lupin buys nearly all of Remus's things secondhand. Maybe it wasn't so much the things in Diagon Alley. She got a two-line letter from Joseph the other day that told her not to expect him home for the longest time. That's enough to do anyone in.
I tagged along when the Lupins left for Diagon Alley this morning because they went so much earlier than Mum wanted to, and I wanted to spend the whole day there. Besides, neither Mr. nor Mrs. Lupin can Apparate, they've never been able to afford the test, so they use Floo powder to get there. Mum slept in AND avoided getting messy, so it was the best deal for everyone. I spent the morning there with Remus and Sirius, laughing and joking. The Blacks' owl died last week, so I played with the cats in the Magical Menagerie while the boys picked out a new owl for Sirius's family. (Sirius still has his own owl, of course.) Mrs. Lupin very nearly walloped both of them for almost starting a fire with some Filibuster Fireworks they got at Zonko's. A Daily Prophet reporter was lurking around the whole time, I never did figure out what sort of assignment he was on, but I think we might have ended up in a few of his pictures.
James showed up around noon with his little brothers in tow. I think all the Potters must look just alike because James is a miniature replica of his dad, and his brothers look like what he must have at six and eight. I kept thinking about his other brothers, which made me really sad. Still, we had a great time, the four or us, picking out our school supplies and stuff. They're actually taking different subjects next year, can you imagine? Sirius is taking Muggle Studies and Divination, I guess his mother believes in that nonsense guesswork, James is taking Arithmancy and Care of Magical Creatures, and Remus is taking Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. ("I don't need to know another thing about Magical Creatures, git. I am one.") I guess that means they do know! Remus was in a very good mood, it's a half moon tonight, so he's back from his last transformation and not yet being affected by his next.
Mum let me get four new books and the only bad thing that happened the whole day was the boys running into Snape. James called Slytherins smarmy, and Snape tried to hex him with his back turned, so Remus and Sirius put him up a tree with a fancy bit of levitation. It's all very immature.
-Clara
Reading the diary, that hadn't been unusual, either-he had often slung one arm around her shoulders and let her lean against him when they studied. Clara's words drew them in, again and again, as she prepared to return to Hogwarts. She and Remus and Sirius had indeed been included in an article in the Daily Prophet, and it hadn't been much longer before she was doing one of Harry's favorite things-boarding the Hogwarts Express to another year of magic.
Clara had been unfortunate within the first few weeks of school, coming down with a vicious bug that had half the Gryffindor house in the hospital wing. Its magical origin was so obscure that Madam Pomfrey could only charm away a few of its symptoms rather than cure it. It was during those weeks that Clara grew even closer than before to one of her roommates, Harry's own mother, and Harry himself started to pay as much attention to the time Clara spent with her girlfriends as the time she spent with the Marauders.
November the eighteenth, 1972
Today was the first Quidditch match of the season, Sirius's very first game. Gryffindor played Slytherin, and it was so long that I was sure I would be frozen to my seat in the stands before the end of it, and the seats aren't even metal.
I wouldn't have gone to the match if it weren't for Remus and Nicole, and neither of them even turned up in the end. Remus is excused, in my book. He's feeling under the weather with his transformation so soon, and the cold wouldn't have been so good for him if you ask me. Nicole, on the other hand, chickened out after all the time Lily and I spent helping her with charms and posters to catch the eye of the new Gryffindor Seeker. Well, I think the boy's an idiot that can't play now, but it wasn't like she knew that before.
Gryffindor won, but it's not because we got the Snitch or anything normal like that. If Sirius and James hadn't worked together to get that last goal when the Seekers were diving for the Snitch, then we'd have tied the game again Slytherin. It would have been quite sick, really.
Lily and I talked the whole time it took for one of the idiots on broomsticks to sight the Snitch. She kept mentioning some boy, and I think that she really likes him, which is probably exactly why she didn't tell me his name. I'm dying to find out, then I'd have an excuse to write Vanessa for advice on boys, and she'd probably concoct some scheme to bring Lily and Mystery Boy together. Lily says I'm being silly when I say she HAS to like this boy, but I really don't think so.
All well. I guess if she really wants to end up all alone in a few years with nothing but a few really skinny cats (I imagine them all looking like Mikasa), then she can pretend all she wants. Lily tells me that we're too young to care so much about boys anyway.
-Clara
This entry brought about a bit of an argument between Harry, who insisted that his mother's crush was on his father, and Hermione, who figured that there probably wasn't any such thing to begin with. Their playful banter continued for several minutes before Harry decided that she could be right, but he crossed his fingers while doing so. Hermione saw this and elbowed him.
Clara never did find out whether or not there really was a boy, let alone whether or not he was James. On the year went, with more frequent mentions of Voldemort's attacks and Death Eater raids that made Harry's stomach turn. She went home for Christmas again, and since none of her siblings had been able to visit, she and her mum spent the holiday with the Lupins. Her days at Hogwarts didn't seem nearly as exciting as some that the trio had spent in the castle, but it was interesting nevertheless. In mid-March, things picked up as work on the Marauder's Map began.
March the twentieth, 1973
Remus was back in class today after his transformation, looking tired but very relieved to have it over. The other boys were looking pretty tired themselves-they were up late last night, talking in low whispers to Sir Nick well after the common room had cleared out. I swear, it's the same thing they're plotting every time Remus is gone, whatever it is.
Remus gave me my birthday present before dinner this evening even though I told him he didn't need to worry about it. He got me a new quill and journal because "knowing you, it won't be so much longer before you have yours all filled up." I just love Remus. He's so thoughtful.
I messed up horribly today in Potions. I misread a line of the directions and added too many daisy roots to my potion. It bubbled over the edge and made a mess on the floor. It wasn't like I'd just leave that mess on the floor, but Professor Archer gave me detention for the next three days. At least he didn't take points off Gryffindor. Some seventh years got caught in the Astronomy Tower late last night. We were down fifty points this morning, it was just awful.
We were all sitting around the fire after dinner when the boys got an idea for a new toy. They want to make a map of Hogwarts that shows where everything and everyone is. Remus is going to draw it, James and Sirius will probably be the ones to enchant it, and I think poor Peter is going to be the test rat for seeing if all the passages work. I think it's ridiculous, they just want a way to make more mischief. I have half a mind to turn the idea into Professor McGonagall, but I'd hate to sound like a snitch.
-Clara
Hermione had to calm Harry down after this particular entry. He'd taken a sudden dislike to Clara for trying to interfere with what he knew had to be the Marauder's Map. He said crossly, "She wasn't any fun."
"It's not important now, Harry," said Hermione, rolling her eyes. "The map got written didn't it?"
"Well, yeah," said Harry reluctantly. He took off his glasses to rub his eyes. They were starting to hurt. "If she'd had her way, though, it wouldn't have gotten made."
"You know, Harry," said Hermione primly, "I would have done the same thing."
"You would have-" Harry scratched his head. "Yeah, you would have, wouldn't you?" Hermione nodded. "That shouldn't surprise me."
"No, it shouldn't." She was eyeing his glasses, which were being held in his hand. "Do you want me to read aloud for awhile?"
"What?" said Harry.
"Your eyes must hurt," said Hermione, glancing at his watch, which was actually more in her line of vision than her own. "You've been awake for nearly twenty-four hours. Here, I'll just read to you for awhile-stop giving me that look."
Harry did as he was told, wrapping his arms more around her middle than he had been. Hermione read for quite awhile, but she yawned loudly as May ended, and her eyes began to shut a little. It was four in the morning, after all.
June the twenty-ninth, 1973
It's the last night at Hogwarts before summer holiday.
We just got back from the End-of-Term feast. All of the "Marauders" ate too much, so they're sprawled about the common room, looking rather sick all of them. At least they're not trying to read over my shoulder like always, or working on that map. It's actually a nice piece of magic, from what I've seen of it, but still! As if they don't cause enough mischief already. (I still haven't forgiven Sirius for hexing my robes so they could only be worn backwards this morning.) We almost didn't get the House Cup this year. We were only five points ahead of Slytherin, and it'd just be tragic if they won, so I wish the boys wouldn't cause so much trouble.
I got my exam results back today. My highest score was a one-hundred-sixteen percent in Charms, and my lowest an eighty-seven in Potions. I'm really upset about that. It'll knock my average all off. Lily tells me not to worry about it because Professor Archer is an unfair and ugly git, but I don't know what I'll tell Mum. I doubt she'll really care, but I just think I could have done better.
Lily asked me to come stay with her in July. Her sister is getting married then, and she absolutely hates the groom. He's just vile, and she refuses to watch "Petunia throw her life away like that" alone. I don't blame her, but I can't help but wonder about Petunia in the first place. Lily says she's awfully mean about Hogwarts. It must be how I feel about Daniel. Still, I think it'll be good fun even though her family is all Muggle besides her. They're pretty well off, and her house looks really nice in all the pictures I've seen of it.
I wish I could spend more time with Remus this summer, but it doesn't look like I'm going to. He's going to spend all of August with James and Sirius and Peter. James's family is going to France during that time, and they're all invited. (The Potters really are very well to do.)
Well, I must go. I'm all packed, so there's a lot I want to do on my last night here, but it looks like I'm going to have to try and talk the boys out of that stupid map again. It's not like it'll do any good, but I can try. (Lily agrees with me. She thinks it's a waste of time, they'll get caught with it and be in so much trouble and all those hours wasted.)
-Clara
Harry glanced down at Hermione. She'd stopped reading aloud ages before, and it hadn't been long after that when she'd stopped telling him when she'd finished a page. She had fallen straight asleep, her head against his chest. He kissed the top of her head and read on, knowing that it wouldn't be anything for her to catch up the next day, if she wanted to. Harry couldn't help but wonder if he was the only reason she had continued with the diaries.
The end of the Hogwarts term also brought about the end of the diary. Harry reached for the third diary, which looked different than the first two. It was shorter and wider, with more between its covers. This was the diary that Remus must have given her. Harry went to open it, and he cursed. It had been so long since Anna had undone the privacy charm that it had activated again. He dropped it to the table in front of him. As much as he didn't want to, he figured it was time to call it a night and go to bed. It was four-thirty, and they would need sleep, even if all they only were to read the diaries the next day.
Harry reluctantly shook Hermione's shoulder. She made a choked noise before pushing back from him.
"No!" said Hermione. "I won't do that, I'll never do that, and there's no way that you can make me! No!"
"Hermione?" said Harry timidly.
"What do you have against Harry?" Hermione muttered this. "Against Muggle-borns? Against-"
"Hermione!" Harry said, louder than he had intended.
Her eyes flew open, and she looked around as if she was completely unaware of her surroundings. She seemed to be unable to focus on him. "Where'd it go? I'm not-I'm not in that room anymore... Harry? What are you doing here?"
She was starting to scare him, and he grabbed her hand quickly. "Hermione! We're in the prefect common room, and we've been reading Clara Lewick's diary. I don't know what you're talking about. You dozed off, and you-"
"I was remembering that room," said Hermione. She bit her lip, looking everywhere but Harry. Absently, she went on, "I don't know what's wrong with me. I see it a lot now, but I never saw it before. Voldemort and-and-damn it!"
Harry's eyes grew wide. Hermione never cursed. Tears were starting to fill her eyes, and he went for the timid approach again. "Hermione?"
Hermione moved back to him, easing back into his embrace. "I scared you," she said. "I didn't mean to. It's that room I told you about first in the hospital wing. I keep seeing it, Harry, whenever I go to sleep. I see everything, but I can't remember any of it when I wake up. I don't know what's wrong with me."
"You said Voldemort's name," said Harry after a moment.
"Did I?" said Hermione. She bit her lip. "It'd be nice if I could remember what he has to do with this."
"You were going to say something else," said Harry crossly. "Voldemort probably ordered someone to hurt you."
Hermione, for some reason laughed at that. "I don't think I mean that much to the Dark Lord, Harry."
"Maybe not," said Harry. He lifted her chin. "You mean that much to me, though."
"Do I?"
"You do."
Hermione sighed, scooting away from him. She stood up, smoothing her clothes. "We still have a lot to talk about, don't we?"
"Yes," Harry nodded, standing up and shoving his hands in his pockets. "We do. A lot to talk about... but I reckon you're ready to go to bed?"
"If you don't-" Hermione cut herself off, yawning. She smiled apologetically. "Walk me downstairs?"
"Always," said Harry, scooping up the pile of Clara's diaries in one hand and extending the other to Hermione. They walked down to the common room and to the bottom of the girls' staircase. He repeated what she had said. "There's a lot we need to talk about, Hermione."
"Yeah..." she trailed off. "Does that mean I can't have a goodnight kiss until then?"
"You want a-a-" Harry grinned when he got over the shock of what she had said, and he kissed her. She waved to him before disappearing into her dormitory. Harry's eyes followed her even after she had disappeared. He scratched his chin.
Maybe Ron was right. Maybe he wasn't such an idiot liking Hermione after all.
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