Chapter 6: A Vision in Love

As Harry approached Hogwarts from the village he felt a surge of nostalgia. The castle and the grounds hadn’t changed much since his first year. School was in session, and the chilly fall wind whipped through his overcoat and made his scarf dance. One simply didn’t walk up to Hogwarts to visit, Harry had found out. It took a Floo to the Headmistress and the verification of his identity through various spells, but Harry didn’t mind. All of the arrangements ahead of time were well worth the students’ safety. After all, he hoped he would send his children to Hogwarts someday, and he would like them to be safe.

Once he was finally allowed to open the front door, he was greeted by a smiling Professor McGonagall. “Potter! You’re looking quite well since last I saw you!”

“Thanks, Professor,” Harry said with a blush, feeling absurdly like he was seventeen again. “How’ve you been?”

“Oh, rather busy with this and that. Keeping the school running takes most of my time, you know, but during the summers I like to keep up with my research into non-stable Transfiguration. I hear you’re a father-to-be,” Professor McGonagall commented as she led him down the corridor.

Harry grinned, a reaction that had become very automatic. “Yes, Ginny’s due in a few weeks.”

“It could be any time then. I expect your wife is anxious to get on with it. The Weasleys never did have much patience as a group.”

“She’s ready to have the baby,” Harry admitted, running a hand through his hair and swallowing before he continued. “There’ve been some complications, but I’d rather not ask your advice out in the open, if that’s all right with you.”

McGonagall simply raised an eyebrow. “Of course. You remember where the headmaster’s office is?”

“I could never forget it,” Harry said with a smile. “I almost destroyed it my fifth year. I don’t know why Dumbledore put up with me.”

“You did have a considerable temper that year,” Professor McGonagall admitted, “although it seems to me that some of that was justified. Objects, material possessions, those can be fixed. Albus was understandably concerned more with his relationship with you.”

At the look of incredulity of Harry’s face, McGonagall smiled. “Potter, when you’ve spent most of your life working with hormonal teenagers, as I have, you’ll understand more clearly what Albus was feeling. Ah, we’re here. The password is ‘Felix’.”

As the statue made way for them to walk up the stairs, Harry experienced a strange sense of déjà vu. He had spent more time in the headmaster’s office than any kid in the history of Hogwarts, or so it seemed to him. Returning here for advice and counsel, where he had done his learning and felt most at home, somehow just felt right.

“What can I help you with, Potter?” McGonagall asked as she walked over to one of the chairs in the middle of the office and gestured for Harry to take the one opposite.

“What do you know about my mum? I mean, that is to say…” Harry cleared his throat. “She was in your House, and… Oh, bugger. Let me start at the beginning.”

“Good idea Potter,” McGonagall said, conjuring a teapot from midair. “Would you like a cup while you gather your thoughts?”

Startled, Harry nodded. “Yes, please. Just lemon and sugar, thanks.”

Harry let his posture sink, his chest caving in as he rested his elbows on his knee and closed his eyes in concentration, letting his thoughts order themselves in the way he’d trained himself to do during the hunt for the Horcruxes. He had taught Hermione to think on her feet, and she had taught him the value of logic and an orderly mind. He would never be as efficient or organized as she was, but it did help in his study of Defense.

“Here you are then,” Professor McGonagall said, passing him the cup. “I’ll let you add the sugar to your taste.”

“Thanks, Professor,” Harry said, drawing in a deep breath and straightening. “It all began a couple of weeks ago. Ginny started having these strange dreams….”

Professor McGonagall listened with the intense concentration of someone used to active listening, pausing Harry to have him go over certain aspects of the story and sometimes asking him questions that required long explanations. At the end of an hour, Professor McGonagall set her teacup down in front of her and took off her glasses with a sigh.

“Divination is not my area of expertise, Potter,” she said, rising to her feet and walking to the bookshelf. “In fact, I’m not sure it’s a legitimate area of magic. Perhaps it would be better if you consulted Firenze.”

“I know, Professor,” Harry said firmly, also rising. “I was hoping you could tell me more about my mum. I just… I don’t think that she’d ever do anything to hurt Ginny at all, if she could, you know, from beyond the veil…. But then, I didn’t think my dad had been a fifteen-year-old prat, either.”

Tears sprang to Professor McGonagall’s eyes and she coughed briskly, trying to get rid of them before Harry noticed. However, Harry was observant and he handed her his handkerchief, a lump rising in his own throat.

“I’m sorry, Potter. Sometimes it sneaks up on me at the oddest moments. Your parents… both were two of my brightest pupils. To lose them so young was such a tragedy for the wizarding world, and more specifically, for you. Truly, it was a misfortunate that you never got to meet them. Perfect people they were not, as I’m sure some of your former teachers have taken the time to point out to you.”

Harry coughed. “That was made abundantly clear to me.”

“Ah, yes. Professor Snape, when he was alive and teaching here,” Professor McGonagall said. “But your parents, and Lily in particular… that was our original topic of conversation, correct?”

Her tone was so close to the one she had used in class when asking an obvious question that Harry almost laughed. “Yes.”

“I suppose you’re asking me if Lily would do something like this. It’s hard to say whether someone would be capable or would not be capable of any one action. I never did have Albus’s particularly astute ability to dissect the personalities and talents of students, but I would suggest that if you were in very imminent danger, your mother would make every effort to warn you. However, since post-mortem communication is often a very hefty task, I would argue that the other possibility you suggested, that someone would send the dreams to Ginny in order to threaten her sanity, is more likely. She did marry you, Potter. There’s probably some leftover resentment from a certain sect of society. Normally I would suspect that.” Professor McGonagall returned to her chair and tapped her foot for a minute. “There’s something about the particular visions, though. Someone would have to have a very intimate connection with Lily in order to produce the clarity of the dreams Ginny has described to you. I am no expert on Legilimency, but I know that much.”

“So then, the question becomes, who’s after Ginny?”

“I would suggest that you ask that question of Firenze, although since he’s not a wizard, he might not have very many concrete ideas about how the dreams are breaking through the veil. But if the spirit of your mother is trying to communicate with you, it would be best to figure out why as quickly as you can. I find it is always best to listen closely when those who are in the know advise you of anything.”

“Thanks, Professor.”

“Oh, and one other thing, Potter. Welcome back to Hogwarts. You’re welcome to join us for lunch at the head table, if you’re still around.”

A grin broke out over Harry’s face. “I think I would like that very much.”

**

Firenze was in the middle of a class when Harry pushed his door open. “Oh, I’m sorry Firenze. I thought that you weren’t busy during this time….”

Uncomfortable with the unrelenting stares of the third years Firenze had been instructing, Harry opened the door and moved step to out.

“Harry Potter, please join us.” Firenze said, sweeping his arms out over the students. “I’m sure my pupils will have no objections.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt the class,” Harry objected, waving his hand.

“On the contrary, I believe the information presented here would be quite informative for you, as it applies to your current situation. Since you’ve left, the Headmistress has requested, very reasonably I thought, that we move away from subjects beyond the students’ grasp. We study more of the abstract parts of magic. No gazing at tea leaves here.”

“What about the stars?” Harry asked, recalling several lessons with Firenze where he’d learned fascinating things.

“Oh, of course we study the stars and the movement of the planets in great detail. If you would take a seat, Harry Potter, I believe today’s lesson will be interesting.”

Harry sat on the grass of Firenze’s classroom next to the other students, who were still gaping at him.

“Class, if I could direct your attention away from our guest,” Firenze began, and the class reluctantly focused back on their teacher.

For the next half-hour, Firenze spoke easily of how Mars was returning to prominence, a sign of the return to strife to the wizarding world. Harry clenched his jaw and focused, listening to Firenze talk of an ancient, easily forgotten trouble rising to the head of the battle of good and evil. Around him, the students scratched busily on their parchment, but Harry was focused on what Firenze was saying.

After what seemed to be a short period of time, Firenze dismissed the class. Harry sat for a moment, absorbed in his own thoughts. “Mr. Potter, I did want to take a moment of your time,” Firenze said, interrupting his internal reverie.

Harry started. “Yes, Professor?”

“Just Firenze,” the centaur said with an ironic smile. “I’m sure you’re familiar with that sentiment.”

Harry chuckled in spite of himself. “More than you know. Or, I suppose you do know.”

“Nonsense. I am not omniscient, Mr. Potter, and personal Divination has never been my strong suit. If you are indeed searching for a connection to the supernatural, coming to me would not be the best choice. I certainly can tell you that dark times are once again around the corner, but I cannot specifically address the situation with your wife, as you mentioned in your letter. I thought perhaps the stars would reveal something to me in time, but my patience interferes with your time limit.”

“Yes, Ginny’s due very soon. I’d like to have this worked out by then,” Harry said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“I have a colleague in Germany,” Firenze began. At Harry’s wince, the centaur stiffened his chest. “Not that ridiculous Trelawney woman. I’ve known this woman since she was a youngling, and she does like to keep to herself. You can’t blame her. Female centaurs do not necessarily make themselves available to the outside world without serious repercussions.”

Centaurs were not known for the sociable nature, Harry knew, and as he’d never once come across a female one, he suspected that getting in touch with Firenze’s associate might be a little difficult. “How am I suppose to find this… lady?”

“She now resides in the Black Forest, on the magical reserve there. Apparate to the International Point there, and I will make sure someone is there to meet you. I would advise doing this as soon as possible.”

“Thanks, Firenze.”

Firenze’s face grew sad for a moment. “I do have some pull left with certain sects of my people. I am happy to use it for you, Harry.”

Blushing, as he often did when anyone referenced his defeat of Voldemort, Harry shrugged his shoulders. “I am grateful, Firenze. Really.”

Firenze’s face took a serious turn. “I do not want you to underestimate the danger that is coming your way. Voldemort was a serious threat, yes, but this enemy is powerful in his subtlety.”

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation and a pale boy with lots of freckles Harry recognized from Firenze’s class appeared. “Mr. Potter?”

“Just Harry,” Harry said automatically.

“Professor McGonagall wanted you to know that lunch has started.”

“Thanks,” Harry said with a smile, waiting patiently while the boy was obviously struggling to force something out. “Did you have something you wanted to ask me?”

“Are you staying all day? Because it was really cool to have you in Divination, you know, but it would be even cooler to have you in Defense.”

“Well, my wife is pregnant, you know, and I should get back to her, but I suppose it wouldn’t be bad to sit in on a Defense class.”

The boy grinned and stuck out his hand. “I’m David Brown. Lavender Brown’s my aunt. I didn’t get to meet her, but everyone says she was a real Gryffindor.”

Harry nodded. “The best.”

“It’s so cool that you’re here. Come on, the house-elves made roast beef for lunch, they must’ve known you were here….”

Grinning, Harry followed David down the hallway, listening to the thirteen-year-old’s prattle about food and feasts, and absorbing the Hogwarts atmosphere all around him. Rather than being painful, his homecoming was making him nostalgic and he wondered why he had not returned here before.

**

“Lily. Lily.”

Startled from a deep slumber, Lily Evans sat straight up in bed and looked around for her husband, blinking at the morning light streaming in from the window. “James? Where are you?”

“Right here,” James said mischievously, his head appearing from beneath his Invisibility Cloak. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Sore. Harry still asleep?” Lily threw her feet over the edge of their bed and headed to the direction of the nursery without waiting for James’s answer. When she reached the doorway she entered without hesitation, but James hung back.

“I just checked on him,” James said from the door of the nursery, leaning against the jamb, watching as his wife stroked his son’s hair gently with a finger. “It’s scary how easy a baby he is.”

“Seems unnatural, especially considering who his father is,” Lily said teasingly, and then she cooed as Harry opened the eyes that had just recently started to change to match the green of her own. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

A look of concentration crossed Harry’s face and James laughed from the doorway. “Someone was going to need a nappie change soon, anyway.”

“Yes, someone is,” Lily responded, poking James in the chest. “And it’s your turn.”

James grinned. “All right. You want to go back to sleep, catch a few more hours before I have to head out for the Order again?”

“No,” Lily said, crossing to the rocking chair by the window. “I think I’ll just sit here and enjoy some time with my two men before you run off again.”

Watching with amusement, wonder and love as James gathered all the supplies for the nappie change, Lily let her mind wander and the gentle motion of the rocker lull her into a sort of half-slumber. James finished the nappie change with a quick game of “Patty Cake” with Harry, and Lily pushed the rocker back and forth gently.

“Do you mind if Harry and I join you?” James asked, crossing the room with Harry in his arms.

“Of course not. There’s always room for you two wherever I go,” Lily said, and James waved his wand to expand the rocker. Scooching over to one side, Lily took the baby from James as he arranged himself to one side of her, laying his arm across her shoulders, and all three Potters rocked gently in the summer night, peaceful and together.

**

Ginny woke up with happy tears streaming from her eyes. Glancing over, she saw that the clock in their bedroom told her that she’d slept most of the day away, but she was feeling refreshed and rested for the first time in weeks. Somehow it seemed that Lily knew she was about to crack under the pressure and was granting Ginny a break.

The door to the bedroom creaked open to reveal her husband, looking exhausted and worn from his day of investigation. “Ah, here you are,” he said cheerfully, kicking his shoes off and lying down on the bed next to her. Gently, he raised Ginny’s shirt up and rested his hand on her rounded belly. “Were you taking a nap?”

“Just woke up,” Ginny said, returning the gentle kiss Harry laid on her lips. “I had a dream again.”

Instantly, Harry’s eyebrows shot up. “What was it about this time?”

“It was peaceful,” Ginny said, her eyes tearing up again. “Your dad got home in the morning from doing something with the Order, changed your nappie and they all sort of rocked together on this chair. It was beautiful.”

Harry felt an odd pressure in his chest at the image of his parents and him, together. Gently, he kissed Ginny’s cheek. “Pretty soon that’s going to be us and our baby, yeah?”

Ginny smiled. “Any day now. How did your visit to Hogwarts go?”

“Brilliant. It hasn’t changed much. Kids still drive Filch crazy with dungbombs. I got Firenze’s and McGonagall’s opinions on our whole situation.” Harry’s hand began to rub a soothing circle on Ginny’s belly.

“Oh? What did they have to say?”

Harry sighed, stilled the motion of his hand and turned completely over on his back. Carefully, Ginny maneuvered so she was on her side facing him.

“They both seem to think there’s something or someone coming after us again. Firenze doesn’t think we’re in any less danger than we were at the height of Voldemort’s power. Molly would probably kill me for telling you, since you’re not supposed to get upset, but we both know that you and I do better when we both know exactly what we’re dealing with.”

“What are we dealing with?” Ginny asked, a bit frustrated. “No one can seem to tell us any more than ‘watch out’!”

Harry sighed. “Remus seems to think it has something to do with the research Mum was doing before she died. Maybe it’s the same thing that Voldemort was after.”

“Oh, did Remus get in touch with you, too?”

“Yeah, he did. He seems to think we need to check the vault in Gringotts. But honestly, Gin, I’ve been there a few dozen times since I started Hogwarts. Do you think I’d miss something as important as that?”

Ginny began to push the hair off of Harry’s forehead with her fingertip and chuckled. “Well, Harry, you do have to admit… we don’t exactly know what we’re looking for.”

Harry groaned. “I know. I suppose it’s worth a try. It’s just that I’d have to leave you here, and I don’t think I want to do that after today.”

“I’ll be fine by myself. I’m pregnant, not disabled.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Have I ever said that? I know you’re capable of taking care of yourself, Ginny. I just want to be sure I’m here when… you know. If I’m in Gringotts when you go into labor, how are you going to get a hold of me?”

“Hmm. Good point. I want you here too. Can you authorize someone else to go into your vault?” Ginny asked.

“I wonder if Bill would,” Harry mused aloud.

“It’s worth a shot. Let’s Floo him now!” At Harry’s look of incredulity, Ginny laughed. “I’m just so excited that we’ve finally got an idea about what to do to fix this. I’m so tired of sitting around and doing nothing.”

“Me too, honestly,” Harry muttered, turning his attention to the side of Ginny’s neck, kissing it softly. “I just hate having nothing to do….”

“Harry Potter! What are you doing?”

“I’m kissing my wife,” Harry said. “Don’t interrupt me, it’s very important work.”

“Harry,” Ginny protested, caught between love and annoyance, “we need to call Bill.”

“They’re probably eating.”

“At four thirty?” Ginny retorted.

“Does it make any difference if we Floo him now or in the morning, when he’s more likely to remember?”

“Oh, hmm, that’s lovely Harry, just… ah, I suppose we can Floo him in the morning. Right absent-minded git, Bill. He’d forget if we…”

“Ginny?”

“Yes?”

“Do you mind shutting up so I can kiss you?”

“Not at all.”

**

Thanks to Kat Morning and Daily Prophet Reporting for their outstanding beta job, as always! Special thanks, love and hugs go to JenMart01, of Potterficweekly fame, for the pre-beta and pre-publishing input.