Chapter 11
Visitors
The next few days were like nothing Harry had ever experienced. He had never really spent much time alone (Hogwarts was always too crowded and he had never been left alone for very long at the Dursleys, who were afraid he would somehow destroy the house). At first it had been uncomfortable, even a little scary, but as the days passed he came to enjoy the solitude. It seemed to clear his head and he found he could relax entirely when no one else was around. There weren’t the tests or homework to worry about like at Hogwarts, and he didn’t have to deal with Dudley’s tantrums and Uncle Vernon’s attitude as he did at Privet Drive.
In addition, Harry found the freedom quite enjoyable; he could do whatever he felt like, eat whatever sounded good (Dobby had left him an amazing an array of food, all pre-made), sleep until he was ready to wake up, even leave messes wherever he wanted”a luxury he had never enjoyed at the Dursley’s (though one Dudley had enjoyed to great extent).
What made the freedom even sweeter, however, was knowing that he would never again have to return to Privet Drive. This knowledge gave him the most wonderful feeling he had felt since learning he was a wizard. No more would he have to endure the scorn and hostility of the Dursleys, or the boredom and isolation of being stranded in the Muggle world. It was as if a heavy burden had suddenly been lifted from his back, and he felt lighter and giddier than ever before.
He spent his days exploring the house and the property around it. Harry was careful to obey Dumbledore’s request to not let anybody from the village know he was there, which, as it turned out, wasn’t so hard a task as Potter’s Cove was considerably large and had plenty to keep his interest. It became quickly apparent why the place was called Potter’s Cove: tucked away in a quaint corner of Godric’s Hollow, the house was built in a large indentation in the mountains and surrounded by trees, giving it a hidden, secluded feel. It was also removed a considerable distance from the rest of the village, so Harry was able to ride his broom and explore freely without fear of being discovered.
Flying above the property his third day at Potter’s Cove, he found a small river flowing down the mountain and along the eastern edge of the cove. The aerial view was spectacular”trees covered most of the land, although there were clearings here and there of varying sizes, a rather large one right behind the house.
True to his word, Dumbledore had stopped in nearly every day. His visits were short, usually just to see how Harry was doing and if he needed anything. Though he was always cheerful, Harry couldn’t help but notice a small hint of weariness in the headmaster’s manner, as though he were trying to do too many things at once.
It was during one of these visits that Harry resolved to ask the headmaster for a small favor. At least a week had passed since he first arrived at Potter’s Cove (though the days had seemed to melt together), and although he had enjoyed his time spent alone, Harry found himself wishing for company. It had been some time since he had talked with either Ron or Hermione and he was anxious to show them everything that had happened.
“Good morning Harry! How are you?” the headmaster asked late one morning after apparating from somewhere behind the house.
“I’m good. Professor, can I talk to you for a minute?”
Dumbledore gave him a quick searching look. “Of course. Shall we?” he said, motioning to the circle of chairs in the entry hall.
Taking his seat on a rickety old wooden chair, Harry watched as the headmaster sat across from him in the large oaken rocking chair.
“Now Harry, what can I do for you?”
Harry began hesitantly, “Well, it’s been great here and I’ve really liked the time alone, but it’s been a while since I’ve seen Ron and Hermione, and I was wondering if…maybe…” he felt awkward, not knowing if he should be asking for another favor or not.
“They could come for a visit?” the headmaster offered.
“Yes.”
Dumbledore smiled. “I think that would be possible Harry. Allow me to arrange it with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and the Grangers. Would tomorrow be all right?”
“Yes! Thank you professor,” said Harry, relieved.
So the next morning Harry made his way through the forest behind the house to a small clearing Dumbledore had described to him the day before. Ron and Hermione were supposed to arrive there by port-key at precisely 9:07. After nearly a half-hour of searching, Harry was about to give up when he heard a faint voice off to his right.
“Hermione, where is it? I thought Dumbledore said the house would be close by. Do you think he made a mistake?” said a male voice, slightly deeper than Harry remembered it.
Turning towards the voices Harry saw a bright red blur that could only be Ron’s head bobbing through the trees ahead of him. Creeping silently towards it, he heard a second, female voice:
“Dumbledore doesn’t make mistakes,” it snapped back. “It’s sure to be around here somewhere”we’ll just have to look around, that’s all.”
“I thought you were the only one who didn’t make mistakes,” Ron mumbled, so quiet Harry could barely make it out. He chuckled as he crept nearer.
“What did you say?” Hermione asked, a suspicious tone in her voice.
“Uh…nothing. Hey is that something over there?” Ron said, pointing away from Harry. They both turned, their backs towards him.
Harry was now close enough he could peer through the branches and see his two friends perfectly. Ron didn’t look a whole lot taller than he had before the summer holidays, which was a first, though he did seem to have filled out some. Hermione, for her part, looked a little more mature and her hair was as bushy as ever.
Harry grinned to himself. Even in normal circumstances Ron and Hermione seemed to be able to argue about anything, though this may have been the first time he was actually glad to hear them at it. A warm feeling sprang up inside him at the sight of his friends. He walked out from the trees to greet the two who still weren’t aware he was right next to him.
“HEY GUYS!”
“AAAHHH!” “Eiiiiiieeeekk!”
Hermione yelled and spun around as Ron staggered several steps backwards and emitted a very feminine-sounding shriek. At first they looked at him in terror”if a dragon had just snuck up and said hello they wouldn’t have been more scared”then their faces slowly turned to recognition.
“Harry!” Hermione scolded, her voice reprimanding but pleased as she ran towards him and embraced him in a giant hug.
“Oh Harry, how are you?”
“Good,” he replied, returning the hug and chuckling to himself. Hermione pulled away and fixed him with a stern look, as if she didn’t quite believe him.
“No really, I am,” he said, still smiling.
She stared at him for a few more seconds, until, apparently convinced that he was telling the truth, softened her expression and spoke in a tone of relief.
“Thank you for writing that letter Harry. I know it must have been hard for you,” she said quietly.
Harry thought of the letter she was referring to, the one he had written the night he and Dudley had beat up Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. It had been long, the first time he had talked with either one of them about Sirius’s death.
“Er, yeah…” Harry replied uncomfortably, not sure what to say. He was rescued by Ron, however, who walked up to him and awkwardly pulled him into a one-arm hug.
He was still breathing heavily, as though still trying to catch his breath.
“You prat, you nearly scared me”us”to death,” he said.
“Sorry about that. You two really need to be more alert though”constant vigilance and all that.”
Ron responded by slugging him in the arm. Hermione rolled her eyes, though she still had a big smile on her face.
“Where are we Harry?” Ron asked as he gazed around the clearing. “Dumbledore told us something about your family’s place, but he didn’t tell us where it would be.”
“Godric’s Hollow,” he answered. Ron looked back at him blankly, clearly not recognizing the name. Hermione, on the other hand, looked thoughtful.
“Godric’s Hollow? I’ve heard of that before…” she said, her brow furrowed in concentration. Within seconds her face lit up in recognition.
“Wait, isn’t this where…?” she stopped mid-sentence and looked at him uncertainly, her eyes widening.
“Yes,” Harry replied, surprised at how quick she had made the connection. Though the three of them had very rarely spoken about it, she had probably recognized the name of the village his parents had been murdered in from some book she had picked up. Ron, however, looked blankly at Hermione then back to Harry.
“Where what?” he asked, annoyed at being left out of the conversation.
Hermione glanced at Ron, then quickly back at Harry, obviously not sure if she should answer the question.
“This is where I was born, Ron,” Harry answered instead.
“Oh,” Ron replied, surprised. Harry could see he hadn’t made the connection yet, and he was glad. He would rather enjoy his friends’ company without Voldemort’s shadow lurking over them, which was sure to happen if they brought up the night his parents had died. Strangely enough, after the visit to the destroyed cottage where it happened he somehow felt at peace with the whole thing anyway didn’t see a need to dwell on it any further.
Hermione shot him a quick questioning look, which he returned with a nod and a small smile.
“Well are you going to show it to us or what?” Ron blurted out impatiently.
“Sure. Let’s go.”
Harry led the two out of the woods, towards the house, which was much easier to find than the clearing had been. As they walked Hermione filled them in on how she had spent her summer.
“I’ve basically spent most of the time with my parents, because I don’t get to see them very often you know. Though I have been able to finish my summer homework and research Elfish history on the side. Did you realize that since 1457 House-Elves have been…”
“You mean with the war and everything else going on you still haven’t given up on SPEW?” Ron interrupted, looking at her incredulously.
“Do House Elves have fair working hours and benefits, Ronald?” Hermione replied coolly. Harry noticed the dangerous edge to her voice, though Ron apparently missed it.
“No, and guess what? They. Don’t. Want. Them. Come on, Hermione, you’ve seen them yourselves”they’d rather feed all of Hogwarts and pick up your knickers than get paid. Honestly, what you’re doing is like”“
But they never heard what it was like, as Potter’s Cove suddenly came into view. Ron stopped and let out a low whistle.
“Blimey, Harry! Is that all yours?” Ron asked in disbelief.
“Er…no, it belongs to my grandparents,” Harry answered, still not used to the idea that he could own anything that big.
“But it will be once you are of age, right?” Hermione interjected.
“Well, yeah,” he replied bashfully.
Harry gave a quick tour of the house (or at least what he had seen of it so far). They started by visiting the astronomy room and the portrait of Angus, who looked thrilled to see even more people in Potter’s Cove. After 10 minutes of his jovial rancor the trio broke away to explore the rest of the house, his great-uncle asking if they had found grandsire Kenneth’s Thunder Room yet and shaking the room with his booming laughter. “Seems like a good bloke,” Ron said as they walked back into the hallway.
Every time they came to a new room Hermione clasped her hands to her mouth, gasped, then looked at Harry in disbelief. As they saw more and more of the house a gnawing concern crept up on Harry: Ron’s family was rather poor and Harry’s wealth had always been a sensitive area. He didn’t react well when he was reminded how much richer Harry was than him. If he felt that way about a few galleons, Harry was scared to think how he would react to him having his own house.
Ron, however, seemed to be enjoying it just as much as he was. He looked excitedly about as they walked and pointed out various details Harry hadn’t even noticed. At length they returned to the large clearing behind the house.
“Well, that’s it. What’d you think?”
“Amazing Harry, absolutely amazing! I’m so happy for you!” Hermione beamed at him.
“Yeah, it’s great,” Ron agreed, studying the area around them. “I can’t believe how”Wait a minute…,” he ran a few steps into the clearing and gazed towards the far end, squinting his eyes. He then turned and gazed at the opposite end. After a few seconds his jaw dropped. “Harry! Do you know what this is?” he gestured at the clearing, his voice marked disbelief, “this is a Quidditch pitch!”
“What?” Harry looked incredulously back at him. Following Ron’s gaze to one end of the clearing he saw three large poles shooting out of the ground, one of which ended in a large hoop much like a Quidditch goal. A second pole rose almost as high as the first, though it had no hoop at the end, and the last rose only a few yards from the ground, apparently having been snapped off during a long period of neglect. Looking down the other end he saw three more tall poles sticking out of the ground. He had never noticed them because the trees had almost engulfed the hoops. Looking back to the center of the clearing he saw that it was roughly the same shape as a Quidditch pitch, but vegetation had grown all over it. It was a little bit smaller, but Ron was right: it was a Quidditch pitch.
“Brilliant,” Harry whispered joyfully to himself. He was coming to like Potter’s Cove more and more by the minute.
Ron slowly walked back towards him, shaking his head. “I don’t believe it. You have your own house, your own land, your own Quidditch pitch…” He stared at Harry with a look of awe, mingled with resentment. “You are the luckiest person I know.”
“Well it’s yours too. You’re going to come live with me once we get out of Hogwarts,” Harry replied simply. Ron blushed furiously but looked extremely pleased. Hermione smiled at them both.
“Come on, let’s go have a sit,” Harry said quickly, anxious to go before things got any more mushy.
The trio returned to the entry hall and took a seat on one of the different chairs. Harry filled them on everything that had happened since he had received the letter from Dumbledore: Tonks’s efforts at delivering Dumbledore’s package (Ron and Hermione laughed especially hard at the part where Mundungus Fletcher got electrocuted), the mysterious journey through the ancient ruins to Godric Gryffindor’s family tree, and, best of all, how he wouldn’t have to return to Privet Drive anymore. They were almost as thrilled as he was about the last part, and Harry thought he saw a tear in Hermione’s eye. He purposefully left out the visit to the cottage Voldemort had attacked his parents at.
Hermione, who was sitting in a stately purple cushioned chair, looked as though something were bothering her. Harry was about to ask what it was when she piped up.
“I don’t understand. Isn’t Dumbledore afraid that you’ll be attacked here? I mean, Privet Drive may have been miserable for you, but at least you had protection there. Why would Dumbledore bring you here?”
“He said that he doesn’t think Voldemort is after me at the moment, that he was laying low while he gathered more followers,” Harry replied.
“Maybe Privet Drive’s a decoy,” Ron suggested. “It would be a waste of time for the Death Eaters to look for you there if you had been hiding out here, wouldn’t it? I mean, Dumbledore didn’t even tell us about this place, I don’t think they would know about it.”
Hermione’s brow creased in confusion. “But still, you would have been much safer at Privet Drive because of the Fidelus charm. Bringing you here would be a risk, not to mention take a good deal of time and effort. Dumbledore’s the busiest man in England right now, why would he go to so much trouble just so you could spend some time here?”
It was a good question. Harry hadn’t really thought about it”he had been too overwhelmed. Now that Hermione brought it up, however, it did seem odd that Dumbledore would go to such trouble just so he could spend a few weeks at Potter’s Cove.
“I dunno,” Harry replied, still thinking. Unexpectedly a memory popped into his mind, the memory of sitting in the headmaster’s office after Sirius had died, of Dumbledore telling him about a ‘flaw in his wonderful plan’, of a tear running down his ancient face. Suddenly it made sense: Dumbledore cared about him.
The realization was somewhat startling to Harry. He needed time to think about it, to process it, but, seeing Hermione and Ron look at him expectantly, pushed it from his mind.
“Er…well, Dumbledore did tell me that he thought I deserved a holiday after…well after all that had been placed on me…” Harry mumbled.
An uncomfortable silence followed. Harry saw Ron and Hermione exchange a quick glance.
“You mean, because of Sirius?” Hermione asked softly.
“Well, yeah. And some other stuff…” The “other stuff”, of course, was the prophecy.
Hermione looked at him thoughtfully, and he decided it would be best to change the subject before she could question him any further. The truth was he wasn’t ready to share the prophecy. Perhaps he never would be.
He turned quickly to Ron. “So what’s it been like in the magic world now that people realize Voldemort’s back?”
Ron shook his head. “Absolute nutters. Everyone’s too scared even to go outside. They think that You-Kno…” he stopped suddenly and cast a sideways glance at Hermione, who looked back at him expectantly. Ron screwed up his face as though he were about to jump off a cliff and said, “I mean, they think that V…Voldemort,” Hermione nodded approvingly at him and he continued, “is going to get them if do anything but sit inside their houses and worry.”
Harry was impressed. This was the first time Ron had ever said Voldemort’s name and it had taken a lot of courage (even if his voice did crack a bit).
“Fudge has been booted from being minister of magic, of course, and most people are calling for Dumbledore to take his place. Mum and Dad don’t think he’d ever do it, though, say it would be a waste of his time. Dad keeps pretty busy at the Ministry trying to cover up all the attacks on Muggles, so we don’t see him much. And Mum’s learned to live with Fred and George running a joke shop, though she’s still upset that Bill lost his job at Gringott’s.”
“Bill lost his job? What happened?”
“He doesn’t really know. He just showed up for work one day and found the goblins had sacked everyone who was a human. Fleur Delacour too. Kind of weird, actually.”
The news surprised Harry. “Dumbledore was just saying that they think the goblins might join Voldemort. I wonder if this has anything to do with that…”
“The goblins?” Hermione interjected, “Really?”. She had a thoughtful look on her face. “That wouldn’t be good at all. Not if we lose the House-Elves too…”
“The House-Elves?” Ron laughed incredulously. “You reckon the House-Elves are going to join You-Kn…Voldemort?”
“I don’t think they would ever join Voldemort, no, but I do think they would just stand aside and let us fight him alone. And who could blame them, after the way we’ve treated them! I don’t know,” Hermione shook her head, a worried look on her face, “if, on top of dementors and giants the goblins join Voldemort and the House-Elves won’t fight against him, I don’t know if we have much chance of winning this war, even if Voldemort was destroyed.”
An uneasy silence set in after Hermione had spoken. Harry’s mind began to spin. What would happen if the goblins and house-elves refused to help in the war against Voldemort? It seemed as though the wizarding world was beginning to cave in, and Harry felt an anxiety that hadn’t been there before. He had always thought the war would be between Voldemort and himself, but now there appeared to be many other factors involved”rampaging giants, dementors, disgruntled goblins and apathetic house-elves…it was almost too much to take in. Harry suddenly appreciated what Dumbledore was going through.
“Wait,” he said suddenly, dispelling the anxious silence. The memory of a shimmering, golden tree in a long, dark corridor had sprung to his mind. “There were 3 sons of Godric Gryffindor on the family tree that Dumbledore took me to. The oldest one was right in the middle of the wall and his name was bigger than everyone else’s. So was his oldest son, and his, and his, for about 3 generations, then it just stopped,” Ron and Hermione were looking at him confused, wondering what he was getting at. “When I asked Dumbledore what had happened, he got all serious and said something like, ‘If we knew that, the war would be over’.”
Hermione and Ron looked at him thoughtfully for a minute. Hermione repeated his words out loud.
“If we knew what happened with Gryffindor’s ancestor, the war would be over…?”
“Yeah. It wasn’t just anyone though, it was his direct descendant.”
“What was his name?”
“I don’t remember. Something Gryffindor, if that helps,” Harry replied. Ron snorted.
“’If we knew that, the war would be over’,” Hermione repeated. “I wonder what he meant…”
“Maybe we should ask him next time we see him,” said Ron lightly. “Well, maybe Harry should, because it seems like he’s ready to tell you anything, mate. While you’re at it, why don’t you ask him how to make the Philosopher’s Stone and why Snape’s such a git.”
The tense atmosphere vanished in a second as Harry laughed and even Hermione couldn’t entire suppress a giggle.
***
They spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the house and discussing what Harry could do with it in the future. Hermione suggested doing a bit of cleaning around the rooms, an idea for which Harry and Ron had very little enthusiasm.
“Clean without magic, are you kidding Hermione? D’you know how long that would take?” Ron said.
“Funny, Muggles seem to be able to manage and they don’t have magic,” Hermione retorted sharply.
“Yeah, well they also wear other people’s hair and need mattresses to start a fire.”
Harry chuckled, sure Ron had meant “matches” instead of “mattresses” and amused that he had learned about the Muggle phenomenon of toupees.
“Besides, Harry’s chums with Dobby. We’ll just offer him a pair of horrible socks and he’ll have the whole place cleaned up in no time.”
Despite the constant arguing of his friends (which seemed to have increased, if that were possible, from the year before), Harry felt happy and forgot about the war for the rest of the day. He and Ron, still thrilled about the prospect of having their own Quidditch pitch, set to work clearing up the overgrown backyard.
“Oh, so this you’ll do without magic but cleaning up the house is out of the question?” Hermione huffed indignantly. Ron and Harry stared at each other for a moment, then grinned.
“Sounds about right,” replied Harry.
“Boys,” Hermione muttered in exasperation as she bent over to help clear the pitch.
Around 7:00 the sun began to sink behind the mountains and it became cooler. Harry had stepped into the house to grab a few flasks of pumpkin juice fix some food and, upon returning, couldn’t find either of his friends anywhere. After almost 15 minutes of searching and calling their names he began to get worried when he saw Hermione’s bushy head bobbing
“What are you doing?” Harry asked in confusion as he entered the house behind them. “Where did you two go?” They looked back at him with mischievous grins on their faces.
“Oh, just went for a little stroll through the woods,” Ron replied casually. He was holding one arm behind his back and there was something in his eyes that Harry didn’t quite trust. Hermione, he noticed, was holding what looked like an old beater’s bat and kept looking at her watch.
“What’s going on, you two are acting pretty weird…”
Ron didn’t answer, but continued to stare silently back at Harry. He looked as though he were about to say something when Hermione suddenly nudged him excitedly and began counting.
“9…8…7…6…5…”
He was about to demand to know what was going on when Ron interrupted him.
“Hey Harry, look what I found!” he said, holding up an old, worn Quidditch Quaffle and with a quick gesture tossed it to Harry.
“2…1…!”
Though utterly confused as to what was going on, Harry’s reflexes kicked in and he reached out to catch the Quaffle. As it made contact with his outstretched hand he caught a glimpse of his two best friends disappear into thin air. Then he felt a familiar jerking sensation around his navel as the world around him soared away in a rush of color.