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Weirdly quiet. Like the memory of a day long ago. A lone figure, Hermione, walks from the river to the woods, a pail of water in hand, leaving silent footprints in the frost that glitters on the ground.
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For a moment, nothing is heard or seen. Then, Hermione's voice whispers, "Harry- Harry, can you hear me-?"
"Yes," Harry replies.
"Good. That's good-"
"We got away."
"Yes," Hermione replies.
"Are you alright?" Harry asks.
"I'm fine. But you've been sick. Rest- Rest a bit more-" All stays dark.
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Hermione sits reading a book by the fire. The hillside is glorious, overlooking a vast valley. "You've outdone yourself this time," Harry notes.
Hermione turns, finds Harry standing outside the tent, admiring the view. He looks pale, battle-worn. "The Forest of Dean. I came here once with my mum and dad, years ago. It's just how I remember it. The trees. The river. It's like nothing's changed. Not true, of course. Everything's changed. If I brought my parents here, they wouldn't recognize any of it. Not the trees. Not the river. Not- me," Hermione replies.
"Where are they?" Harry asks.
"Wendell and Monica Wilkens now reside happily in Sydney, Australia. They have two dogs, run a small sweet shop, but floss daily. No children," Hermione lists. She smiles, then it fades. "Maybe we should just stay here, Harry. Grow old." Harry has no words. She inhales, shakes off her tears. "You wanted to know who the boy in the photograph was. Well, I know." Hermione holds up the book in her lap: The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore. "It was in Bathilda's sitting room. Rita Skeeter had sent it to her. Harry, it doesn't make for very nice reading-"
"Who is he, Hermione? The thief? Did Dumbledore know him?" Harry asks.
"Yes," Hermione replies.
"Well?"
"For a time."
"Tell me, Hermione. Who is he?" Harry insists.
"Gellert Grindelwald. He's not very well known in Britain, but there was a time, before You-Know-Who-"
"Hermione, I don't need to have read A History of Magic to know who Gellert Grindelwald is."
Hermione nods, hands him the book, open to a photograph of a teenaged Dumbledore laughing with another boy, Gellert Grindelwald. The caption: "For the Greater Good? Dark Days; Dumbledore and Grindelwald." On the opposite page is a photograph of Grindelwald in later days, clad in black, holding a jagged wand, no longer the carefree lad of youth. "When Grindelwald was seventeen, he was expelled from Durmstrang. He'd started doing some twisted things at school, experiments. A few teachers had always protected him, but they couldn't anymore. After he left, he traveled for awhile, then ended up in Godric's Hollow where his great aunt lived, Bathilda Bagshot," Hermione explains.
"Get to the hard part, Hermione," Harry asks.
"She introduced him to Dumbledore. It made sense. Dumbledore's mother had just died, Grindelwald was troubled and they were both brilliant, they'd never really had anyone they could talk to on the same level. They did a lot of talking that summer. But they always returned to one particular subject." Harry looks up. "Wizard rule over Muggles."
YOU ARE READING
A Potter Secret
FanfictionMy life is full of magic. I was barely a few months old when you-know-who came and killed my parents. My brother, Harry, was almost four. They sent him away but I was too weak from the attack. Papa has raised me since then, letting me run around the...