Chapter Six: Unexpected Visitors

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"C'mon Potter! I know you know this!" Calista  shouted. Harry knew he knew it too, but he couldn't think, especially when she kept yelling at him like that.

  Calista yelled at him a lot. She has that no nonsense attitude about her and has about as much patience as a grain a sand. She got frustrated very easily, and when she was frustrated, so was Harry. He found it hard to think around her when Calista got like that. He often argued with her even when he knew he was wrong. Arguing with her was so easy when she refused to get a long with him.

  "Don't make me hex you, Potter!" Looking at Calista, no one would know she was an Auror. She was tall and slender with loads of sleek, blonde hair that went half way down her back. She often wore bright clothing that was the complete opposite of her personality. The only thing that was intimidating about her was her eyes and how they went from expressionless to murderous in less than a second.

  Harry didn't want to be on the receiving end of that hex, so he added the ingredient into the potion he thought was right. Calista smiled and said, "That's right, but you need to add in a little bit more to make the potion act as it should. See Potter, all you needed was some encouragement!"

  Harry scoffed. "I wouldn't consider that encouragement," Harry muttered under his breath. She liked to punish him for "encouragement" and he was getting tired of it.  She was almost no better than Snape was.

  "I heard that Potter. Drop the attitude and get to work so we can both go back home," she said.

  "Yes, ma'am," Harry said, making sure to catch the disgusted look on her face.

  For the next few hours Harry worked through all of the potions he needed to know by the end of his training. Calista stood and watched him but also critiqued what he did. She often offered up some more "encouragement" to get Harry to work faster. He was tempted to work slower just to get on Calista's nerves, but he didn't want to mess up his potions, for some of them required the right timing.

  One by one, Harry managed to finish all of the potions. The only one he didn't finish up was the Polyjuice potion since it took longer than most to make. He anxiously watched as Calista criticized his work. With each potion he made, she held it up to the light to make sure the color was right. She sniffed each and every one to test the smell. She also dabbed a little on her tongue to taste them.  When Calista finished he saw a satisfied look cross her face, but she quickly wiped her face of any emotion.

  "Well Potter, you didn't do too bad. A couple of your potions weren't exactly right but you should most definitely pass this portion of the exam."

  Harry couldn't keep in his excitement about his work and Calista's praise. He was surprised that she didn't say a single bad thing about his potions. "Was that a compliment I heard?" Harry asked.

  "Shut up, Potter. You're free to go. Oh, and good luck with your exam," Calista said. Her statement lacked it's usual sarcastic tone and Harry knew she actually meant it.

  Harry left the Ministry of Magic and apparated to Grimmauld Place. There he changed into casual clothing. After he finished he left for the Weasleys' house.

  He was greeted by Ron and Hermione who had finished their jobs an hour earlier. They're faces were solemn and Harry could tell something was wrong. "What's the matter?" He asked. Before they could answer, Mrs. Weasley and Ginny came outside. Ginny walked over to him and placed her hand in his. Her face, too, was serious.

  "Harry, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, "You have a visitor here to see you." She led them inside to where Professor McGonagall was standing.

  "Ah, Professor, it's good to see you," Harry stated.

  "It's good to see you too, Mr. Potter, but I'm not who's here to see you. I was simply escorting them here," McGonagall said. "They are in there, but maybe you should see them alone." Harry looked at his friends questioningly but their faces revealed nothing.

  Harry walk into the room by himself. Sitting on the couch was a young couple. They looked up at him and Harry let out a cry of surprise.
The women's brilliant green eyes were filled with tears. The man beside her, who looked just like Harry, appeared to have a few tears as well.

  Harry knew who they were. He had seen them in his photo album he kept under his bed. He had seen them in his own dreams and the memories of other's. Yes, he knew them.

  They were Lily and James Potter. They were his dead parents, and yet, here they were alive.

 

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