“So Harry, what on earth has been bothering you all day?” Hermione asked, just after they had sat down at the table.
“I thought you wanted to study Hermione, shouldn’t we do that first?” Harry said, obviously trying to get out of telling her and Ron about the letter that he had found earlier that day.
“Harry James Potter, you are not getting out of this. First, you are completely out of it all day, then you snap at us when we are trying to figure out what is going on. I want an explanation, and it better be a good one.”
“Alright. If you must know,” Harry said, rummaging through his bag, “I found this out by the lake before we had Charms this afternoon.” He handed her the letter and watched her read it. Immediately her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. Harry saw her eyes flying across the paper as she read on and on until she finished.
“Harry… that’s just so… romantic. I can’t believe it. I wonder who wrote it. But that doesn’t explain why you were so distracted for the whole day. I mean, sure it is a little shocking but you’ve been somewhere else entirely for the whole day.”
“That’s just it; I can’t help but think about it. I try, but I can’t stop. Everywhere I go I begin looking for the girl who could have written that. I don’t know what it is, but it’s like I have some sort of compulsion to find her, and I can’t. It’s driving me mad.”
At this point Ron gained more interest. “Girl? What girl? And what did she write? Let me see that,” he said grabbing it from Hermione, he began to read aloud, “’To A Stranger, I am in love with you, deeply, passionately, completely.’” None of them noticed a quiet gasp coming from one of the chairs near them. “A love letter?” Ron asked in disbelief, “Harry, someone sent you a love letter?”
“Don’t read it aloud, Ron,” Harry yelled. “Someone will hear, and this is something that I would definitely like kept private, thank you very much. It is not something that I want the whole school knowing about by Friday, God knows I don’t need that right now. And no, no one sent it to me, for all I know it wasn’t even meant for me.”
“Alright, alright,” Ron responded.
At this Hermione spoke up, “Harry, it is too for you, it says so. She wrote that the only way that you could have opened that bottle would be if you were her soul mate. You know as well as I, that this was for you.” At this Harry flushed a deep red, and Ron sniggered.
“Soul mate? Hermione, you don’t really believe in all that do you? I find this whole situation pretty funny actually. Myrtle probably wrote it before she died. Hah.” Hermione did not laugh, but instead gave Ron a biting look. “Come on Hermione, that’s funny, admit it.”
“Ron, you are so immature! Why can’t you ever act like an adult instead of behaving like a four-year-old all the time? All you ever do is make jokes even when things are hardly funny at all!” Hermione scolded. She then grabbed her books and stalked off.
“Sheesh, girls. What in the world did I do to deserve that?”
Harry rolled his eyes at Ron’s ignorance and simply said to him, “I haven’t the slightest idea.”
While all this happened neither of them had noticed that Hermione wasn’t the only girl who had fled to the refuge of the girls’ dormitory. If either of them had turned around at that moment they would have seen a flash of red hair whip around the doorway leading to the stairs.
It was the next morning, and as Harry headed out of the Great Hall after breakfast, he slammed right into a small scared looking second year that he had seen around before, he briefly recalled that she was in Ravenclaw. Because of the collision, the whole contents of his bag fell on the floor, much like the time back in his own second year with that God-awful cupid thing. If only Harry knew how much this incident would resemble the last one, he would have gone without breakfast that morning in order to spare himself the trouble.
As he was picking up his things from the floor he noticed a pale hand reaching for a certain piece of parchment. Harry scrambled to get there, but wasn’t fast enough and only reached it just after none other than Draco Malfoy picked it up.
“What have we here Potter? A secret note? No, it looks rather old; maybe something your filthy mother left you that you carry around in your bag so you can feel closer to her. Awww, how cute. I think I might just cry,” Malfoy sneered at Harry triumphantly while his Slytherin cronies chuckled at his jokes.
“Give it here, Malfoy!” Harry said, trying to keep the anxiety out of his voice, while hoping that Malfoy wouldn’t notice what the parchment was, but that would have been too good to be true. As he read it an evil little sneer appeared on his face.
“It appears, Potter, that you have been written a love letter. Now let me see, what shall I share with the class? Ahhh, yes, this will do nicely, ‘I always knew that there was someone out there, someone who was made for me, a person that would be my other half. Ever since I was a little girl, I felt that you were out there somewhere just as lonely as I was.’ How cute, it truly brings tears to my eyes.”
By now Harry was completely irate. He raised his wand and pointed it straight at Malfoy’s chest and said to him through his teeth, “Give it back, Malfoy. If you know what's good for you.”
Malfoy looked positively frightened for a second, but only just one, then his smirk returned to his face. “You wouldn’t do anything to me in front of all these people Potter and you know it.”
“Try me.”
“Alright, I’ll give it back… After I’ve read just one more little excerpt,” he said glancing scathingly behind Harry’s shoulder. Malfoy continued in a falsely high voice, “’I feel that I cannot reveal my identity to you. I do not know when we will meet, or how, but I believe that we will know in our hearts when the time is right.’ Aww, very sweet. It looks like the little Weasel has finally come to her senses. She realized that she and her family were just too embarrassing and would never be good enough for the ‘Famous Harry Potter’ or, for that matter, for anyone to have any association with them.”
Harry could not believe what Malfoy had just said, and glancing behind him he saw Ginny duck her face as it became increasingly redder. She then desperately began trying to make her way through the crowd. Harry was so angry that he didn’t give it a thought, but just turned and decked Malfoy right in the face. Malfoy passed out before he hit the ground and would surely be out for a few hours. Harry picked up the discarded parchment from the floor and tried to shove it into his bag, but before he could do anything he heard a shrill and very angry voice shout.
“What is going on here?” At the sound of Professor McGonagall’s voice Harry’s blood went cold and everything went silent. Harry silently thanked his lucky stars that it wasn’t Professor Snape who had happened across this happy situation, but still prepared himself for the worst, for he had witnessed McGonagall’s wrath first hand many more times than he would have liked. He turned and saw Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore walking quickly towards him.
“Professor, I…”
McGonagall surveyed the situation and quickly realized what had happened. She turned toward Harry looking extremely livid.
“Potter, I would not have believed this of you, I am not quite sure what is to be done, surely points will be taken and detentions served…”
She was interrupted by Professor Dumbledore, “Minerva, surely we need not discuss this here in front of all these students,” he said, and turning towards the students, “There is nothing else to be seen here, so if you would please continue on to your first classes. Thank you,” he said in his usual calm manner. “Mr. Crabbe? Mr. Goyle? Would you please make sure that Mr. Malfoy makes it safely to the Hospital Wing? Thank you.”
Once Crabbe and Goyle had carried Malfoy off and all of the other students had finally walked off it was just Harry and the Professors left in the entrance hall.
“Minerva, I believe that you are due in your classroom for a lesson. You ought not to be late, lest the children become over excited; we all know how third years can get. I will handle this.” With this, McGonagall gave him a very skeptical look; she knew that he had a particular soft spot when it came to Harry. “I wish to speak to Harry alone, but I will make sure that he reports to you at the conclusion of his afternoon classes, and you can deal with him as you see fit. That will be all Minerva, thank you,” Dumbledore said sternly. The professor walked off towards her classroom, clearly reluctant to leave.
“Now, Mr. Potter, would you kindly follow me to my office?”
Harry nodded and followed as Dumbledore turned in the direction of his office. Harry was in a state of dread. What was Dumbledore going to do? Would he be expelled? Surely not for just hitting another student, right? He figured that he was in for a very long lecture that would leave him feeling terrible about himself. He followed, with his shoulders slouched and fearing the worst.
During the long walk to the Headmaster’s chambers, Harry couldn’t help but think about what he did earlier. Why did he hit Malfoy? He had been able to withstand Malfoy’s taunts for years without such retaliation, why now? Was it what he had said about the Weasleys? Logically, Harry decided that this was probably what set him off; he never could stand it when Malfoy was rude to them. The Weasley family was the best family that Harry had ever met, regardless of the amount of money that they had in their vault. If Malfoy wanted to bring up scummy families why didn’t he just bring up his own?
As they continued to walk, Harry’s mind wandered to what Malfoy had said about Ginny writing the letter. It couldn’t possible be her, could it? Nah. She had given up on Harry years ago… or so everyone thought. Harry began to think that it could be quite possible that it was, in fact, Ginny that had written the letter. He came to the realization that he wouldn’t be horrified if it was her that wrote it. Immediately after thinking that he scolding himself thinking, “There is no way I should be feeling that way towards Ginny. Come on Harry, this is your best mate’s LITTLE sister.” Soon though a heated debate began in his head; one side arguing that she was Ron’s sister, the other side was making the point that she was more than that. All in all, Harry was relieved when they reached the stone gargoyle so that he could completely stop thinking about Ginny, for the time being at least; lately he hadn’t been able to keep her out of his head.
“Gumdrop,” Dumbledore said, and, as usual, the Gargoyle sprang to life, revealing the spiraling staircase that it guarded. “After you Harry.” Harry stepped onto the first step and the stairs began to rotate leading him to the top and Dumbledore’s office door. They entered the room and Dumbledore asked Harry to take a seat, which he did obligingly.
“I’m sorry sir, I didn’t mean to hit Malfoy, it’s just he was speaking badly about the…” Harry began, but was interrupted by Dumbledore.
“That is not why you are here Mr. Potter.”
“It’s not?”
“No, you will have to report to Professor McGonagall for that later this afternoon. No, we are here to discuss a completely different matter.”
“And that is…” Harry honestly had no idea why he was there. What else could they possibly have to talk about?
“To talk about the letter that you are holding in your hand.” Harry hadn’t even noticed that he was still holding the old piece of parchment.
“What would you want to talk about that for? It’s private.”
“I do not wish to know the contents of the letter, for if it is what I suspect then it is indeed very private. I would just like to know how you came across that old bit of parchment.”
Harry looked at him quizzically and answered, “I found it out in the lake; it was in a bottle floating by the shore.” At this Dumbledore’s head jerked up, a glint in his eye that could only be described as excitement.
“May I see the bottle please?” and Harry gave it to him, “Ahhh, I was wondering when I would see this bottle again. My, my, it has been a long, long while, nearly twenty years in fact, not since…” he trailed off.
“I’m sorry sir, but how do you know about the bottle and the parchment?”
“How do I know about the bottle and the parchment? Well, the simple fact is that I created them, I completed them both in my final year as a student here all those years ago.”
Harry gaped at him, “You… you were the one who made this? But how?”
“Ahhh, yes those two items were a pure stroke of genius if I may say so myself.”
“Yeah, that’s what she said. She said that she couldn’t decide if you were being arrogant or funny about it. She also said that you thought that the bottle was your greatest feat. Knowing you sir, that can’t possibly be true.”
“Thank you for the compliment, Harry, but I assure you, it is true. Never before in my life had I, nor since have I ever achieved anything more extraordinary than this. Its brilliance lies in what it does. I feel I owe you an explanation of exactly how this bottle works. For, I am sure you are feeling very confused right now. This bottle is able to recognize something in a person and when it does, it the bottle makes itself to known to them. When he or she opens it they will find instructions from me written on the parchment that you now hold in your hand. When they write upon it and reseal it, the bottle will only open when it is in the hands of the person who is meant for the writer.”
“Yes, this much the girl told me in her letter, but how does that make it so extraordinary.”
“I had not quite finished yet Harry. When I say that it will not open for anyone else, I mean it.”
“But how do you know that it works. Not to offend you or question your abilities, but how can you be so sure?”
“Harry, that, I assure you, I can prove. Since that letter was written, how many people do you think have tried to open the bottle?”
“I don’t know,” Harry replied.
“Hundreds, Harry, hundreds. And to you were the only one who achieved success. I’m sure that it opened for you with no struggle at all.”
“Yes it did, but that doesn’t mean…”
“Harry, please take my word on this.”
“Alright, but how does that make this bottle the greatest achievement in your life?”
“Many times I have told you that the ability to love is your greatest power. Love allows us to stop thinking of ourselves; we put someone else’s well being before our own, and vice versa. Love gives us protection older than any magic, which you know first hand; love is what saved you as a child, and is what will save you again when the time comes. Love is not only your greatest power, but everyone’s; it is greater than the Dark Arts, or anything that we teach at this school. It cannot be taught or controlled, only felt, but yet it is more powerful than any one force on this earth. Love is the one thing that Voldemort cannot touch, cannot overpower, and cannot control. It is because of this that he can be destroyed. Why is the bottle so extraordinary? Because it helps the mind to realize what the heart already knows. It is able to see that power, that love, and can help those people to recognize it.”
“Yeah, well love isn’t all that rare, especially at a school filled with all of us hormonally driven teenagers” said Harry only half sarcastically.
“Ahhh, yes, that is true. But this type of love doesn’t come about everyday. That is why this bottle is so remarkable; it recognizes only the deepest, truest love. In sixty years there have been only two different couples who have been able to open this bottle.”
“Two? When…”
“Like I said Harry, I have not seen it in nearly twenty years. Not since your mother brought it to me in this very office.”
“My mom...” Harry could not believe what he was hearing. His own parents had been the only other people to ever open the bottle.
“Yes, Harry. Your mother brought the bottle to me in the end of her sixth year, just like you. Your father had found it in his third year; I believe that it was right after the first time that Lily rejected him. He was heartbroken; he didn’t show it on the outside, of course, because that would betray the heartthrob image that he had worked so hard to maintain. But he was truly upset and, when he found the bottle, he poured his heart out. I never would have guessed that a boy of just fourteen could be so passionate about something, but he was. Lily was everything to him; in fact, he was so confident that Lily was the one for him that he even addressed the letter to her, knowing that she would be the one to find it. James, though, couldn’t bring himself to sign it, being too embarrassed over her rejection. Your mother found it three years later, right after her parents were killed and she was particularly lonely. Reading the letter she began to come out of her depression; she began to have hope for the future because of what this unknown stranger had written her. The letter was her salvation and it was the reason that they finally began seeing each other on a more personal level. You knew about the relationship they had before that point, Professor Snape told me the basics of what you saw in his pensieve last year; haven’t you ever wondered what changed your mother’s mind?”
“I suppose I have, but how does the bottle work? I mean, she hated him, how could it cause a complete turn around?” Harry was astonished. He couldn’t believe that this bottle had been the reason that his mother had finally stopped detesting his father. How could opening a bottle and reading a letter make someone fall in love?
“The bottle does not change your feelings, just helps you to realize them. Your mother always loved your father but was unable to see it. When the bottle is opened the second time it causes both of the openers to see things in a new light. When the eyes of the opener meet those of the one who wrote upon the parchment, they will know, and everything will become clear.”
A/N: Thanks again to my BETA Gryffindor-Girl. As Always, reviews would be excellent. Thanks again, and I hope you enjoyed it.