Ginny grabbed her bag and headed toward the fireplace. The family was going to the Kneazle Breeding Area to volunteer for most of the day. It was something she did every Tuesday and Thursday, and the kids had showed interest in helping out while they were staying. Even Will, who would sooner appreciate animals from a distance, wanted to come today.
"Are you three almost ready yet?" she yelled down the hall. "We're supposed to be there now!"
"We're coming, Grandma!" Gina yelled from her room. She threw on a jacket to protect her arms from kitty claws, and ran to Blake's room.
Blake and Will were both in jackets, Will looking nervous to be dedicating his day to something that shed and scratched. Harry sat on the bed, reading one of Blake's Quidditch books.
"Harry," Gina said. Harry looked up. "We will be at the breeding area till 5 pm, so the house is yours until then."
"Ok."
"Just please be back in this room before then, in case we're early," Gina added hastily. Ginny called for them again, and all three ran out of the room, not bothering to close the door behind them.
Harry waited five minutes, and then dug in his pocket. He pulled out the bronze key he had found yesterday. He had almost the whole day to explore, and he was starting with the den.
He walked to the door, turned the key, and walked into the room.
It was an office, the kind a wizard was likely to have. There was a long wooden desk in the center, bookshelves covering the back wall, a red sofa in the corner, and even a corner with a cauldron and a large potions supply cabinet.
Was this his office? Or was it used by both Ginny and Harry, and if it was, why was it locked? Harry's mind buzzed with questions, and he wondered where to start.
His curiosity pulled him to the potions corner. He went to open the cabinet, but there was no door. He touched the solid wood where a swinging door would be, and the door rippled where he touched it. The wood faded away, revealing the inside of the cabinet.
Harry whistled. This was a potions cabinet to rival Snape's. The top half was dedicated to several potion bottles of many sizes and colors. The labels read several potions he'd heard about before, like Veritaserum, and a blue bottle labeled Draught of Peace. Some of the potions were labeled with symbols, while others weren't labeled at all.
The bottom half had every potion ingredient Harry could think of. He saw broomslang skin, graphorn horn, doxy fangs, spider legs, mandrake root, what looked like phoenix feathers, and he even saw what looked to be the powdered horn of a unicorn.
Harry moved his gaze from the impressive potions cabinet to rest of the corner. A cauldron bigger than his own sat on a stand, looking as if it hadn't been moved in that spot for years, but used plenty of times since then. A table next to the cauldron, labeled Advanced Potion Making sat closed next to several empty vials.
Harry moved to the bookshelf in the back of the room. It was packed with volumes of every topic he would need as an Auror. There were animagi books, advanced Transfiguration books, books for difficult Charms and Astronomy. Defense Against the Dark Arts books filled a whole bookshelf.
Harry stopped, reading one of the authors of the books, and then smiled. Hermione Granger. He should have known.
Harry walked to the desk. It was long, almost as long as the room, with several papers and gadgets littering its surface. A Sneakoscope stood on its point steadily, perfectly still. Several quills sat in a cup, with an ink bottle next to it. Instruments that looked like the ones in Dumbledore's office whirred on the end of the desk.
Harry picked through some of the papers on his desk, but he didn't find anything worth reading. Most of them were official Ministry documents, Auror school applications, and weekly reports that the Ministry seemed to require.
Harry made to leave, when his foot kicked something below him, knocking it over. Harry bent down to pick it up. It was a garbage can, and heaps of ash had fallen out of it, along with a large pile of parchment tied together. He picked it up and read the title.
From the Boy-who-Lived to the Man-who-won. The true story of Harry Potter. By: Hermione Granger.
Harry stared at the rough draft of the book. It surprised him that people were interested in reading about his life just as much as he was surprised Hermione wrote about it. But why was it in the trash?
Harry sat on the couch and started reading. There was an introduction, which was the story everyone knew. It was an accurate retelling of what happened when Voldemort killed his parents. The last page was dedicated to the ten years after that, when Harry lived at the Durleys. He skipped ahead.
Hermione had broken the book into eight sections: all seven of his years, and Auror training and beyond. Harry read, fascinated, at Hermione's retelling of his life. She had all the facts right; she had done her research. She was even able to make a good guess as to what Harry was thinking or how he felt during each year. Harry was very impressed with Hermione's writing.
Then he got to his fifth year, and Harry couldn't help but feel peeved with Hermione. 'He became moody, and he lost his temper frequently...' '...cracking under the pressure.' 'Known to many as the basket case.' Whose side was Hermione on? Was that why this wasn't published? Harry still skipped to the next chapter, his sixth year.
The sixth year marked the beginning of N.E.W.T. classes, the beginning Advanced Potions, and the beginning of the war. Harry returned from the Dursleys much earlier than usual that year to start classes for Apparation, and it seemed like that year would be much better than the last. Until, on the first day of school, when...
There was a bang outside and Harry looked up, frozen in place. He listened intently for any signs that they may be home. He didn't have a watch on, and he had no idea what time it was. Thinking he must be running out of time, Harry skipped right to his seventh year. But the last page of his sixth year led right to his Auror training. He flipped back, although he was pretty sure he didn't pass it. He fingered through the parchment, getting more frustrated with every turn. On the page that started his Auror training, he noticed that around 30 pages were ripped out of the rough draft. Was this why the rough draft was in the trash? What did Hermione write that his future self didn't even want to look at? Harry wanted more than ever to actually know what happened. Frustrated, he threw the pile of parchment to the side.
It hit a bowl on his desk. The bowl was twinkling with light, and Harry was amazed that he hadn't noticed it earlier. It was filled with the silvery substance Harry knew too well. He leaned close to the Pensieve. Could this be his Pensieve? All of his memories would have to be in here. Breathing hard, Harry tapped the substance with his wand. A picture began to form of what looked like the Great Hall. All of the students were sitting on the benches, but there were no tables . They all seemed to be focused on something at the teacher’s table. Holding his breath, Harry stuck his head in, and tumbled into the Pensieve.
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Gina opened the door and walked into the house. Exhausted from chasing and feeding cats all day, she lazed on the couch before even taking her coat off. Will peeled his coat off, showing the new scratches on his hand. Blake walked up behind him. "That was fun, wasn't it?" Will glared at him.
Ginny followed in. "I'm glad you guys could help me out today. They don't have as many volunteers on Tuesday." Ginny took her cloak off and hung it on the hook by the door. "I wonder if Harry's back yet...."
"What?" Gina jumped off the couch and ran up to Ginny. "What do you mean?"
"He's been gone for almost three days, and while you three are here...it doesn't make sense. It's not like him."
Will came to Gina's rescue. "Well, there is that issue with Ludo Bagman again, and those goblins. Maybe it's just really busy right now. I think we should give Grandpa a break."
Ginny frowned. "He's going to hear it once he gets home." She went out to the backyard.
The minute the door was closed, the trio bounded down the hall. Blake knocked on his door. "Harry? You there, mate?"
There was no answer. Blake knocked more forcefully. Still nothing. Blake opened the door. There was nobody on the bed, and the closet was empty. Blake turned to face Gina and Will. "Harry's not here."
A/N: I'm going out of town for the weekend, so the next submission won't be until Monday at least. Sorry about that. :(