Harry meets the Grangers and visits some revenge on Aunt Marge. He and Hermioengo guising(trick-or-treating in England) helps someone out and begins to teach Hermione
One afternoon in late October, Hermione was practicing a particularly difficult piece on the piano when Harry rapped on the sliding glass patio door and walked in. She smiled and pointed to the clock with her chin, indicating she still had almost a half hour of practice left. With a wicked grin, Harry perched himself on the bench to her left and began to play a counter-tune to hers, improvising and just having fun. His fun was contagious, and once Hermione had gotten over the shock, she was improvising as well, giggling and playing with her friend.
Upstairs, Judith Granger heard a rather interesting variation of Mozart’s ‘Rondo in D’, that Hermione was supposed to be practicing, along with what she clearly identified as ‘Snoopy’s theme’ from Charlie Brown! Instead of being a cacophony, the players were producing a nicely blended amalgamation of both. She descended the stairs to investigate. There, she heard something so rare, she immediately grinned. Hermione was laughing! She hadn’t laughed like that since before she began to attend primary! Peeking around the doorframe, she found the reason for both music and laughter. The friendly black haired boy from next door, Harry, it was, was seated next to Hermione and playing along like a master! Or like a master prankster! They weaved their melodies within and around each other’s, accenting some parts, subduing others and generally having a good time.
When they’d finished, laughing and giggling all the way, she offered them some fresh baked granola biscuits and milk. Both eagerly accepted.
“Harry?” She began. When he nodded she went on.
“How can you play so well, you’re only five, and yet you were playing like a master!”
Harry had to stifle a smirk. After nearly nine hundred years of practice, he was a master, at several dozen different instruments…including many that had not yet been invented!
“Magic.” Was all he said.
“Oh come now, Harry, there’s no such thing as magic.”
“Really?” He queried anxiously. “Then I suppose I can’t do this.” He waved his hand and a bouquet of tiger lilies in a heavy crystal vase appeared on the table. Judith squeaked in shock.
“Or this.” Another wave and the room changed from a pale blue to a deep green with white trim.
“Or maybe this?” Instantly the bouquet vanished, to reappear on the mantle and a perfectly prepared crown roast dinner for four appeared on the table.
Judith was aghast. She’d never seen the like in her life and yet, here it was in front of her. She touched an exposed bone of the crown roast and squeaked again, as she burnt her finger.
“Mrs. Granger, magic is one of the most fundamental forces of nature. All the early peoples used it. It was only after the various churches began to interfere, that it was called evil and suppressed. I happen to know that there’s a whole community of magical people living right here in Britain, hidden from the mundanes…erm…people without magic.”
“I can tell you this. There are three people…” He held up four fingers and Hermione giggled. “…living in this house that can use magic.”
“Your talent and Mister Granger’s, is minimal. He used his to survive in combat without knowing it, and you; you use it every day in your household chores. I could feel you using it upstairs. Hermione outstrips both of you by light years. She will be the single most powerful witch, since Merlin!”
“Really?” Hermione asked.
“How do I learn it?”
“I can’t?” Harry saw his quick answer had been taken the wrong way. Hermione looked ready to cry. He hugged her warmly and said: “You can’t learn it because you already have it. What you have to do now, is learn how to release it under your conscious control. Mrs. Granger, do you recall the ‘unusual’ things Hermione has done…things she’d done when she was excited or afraid or angry?”
Shocked, Judith Granger did indeed recall those odd things. Harry nodded in understanding…more like her old biology professor than a five-year-old boy,
“That was her magic expressing itself.”
“Can you teach me how to use it?” Hermione asked hopefully.
“Sure. Let’s start with something simple. Hold out your hand, palm up, yeah like that. Now, imagine holding a little glowey ball in your hand. You can close your eyes if it makes it easier to create the image.
“Hermione did as he bade her, squinching her eyes tightly and furrowing her brow in concentration.
A few seconds passed before her hand began to glow. Judith almost screamed in shock as a brightly glowing sphere of white appeared in her child’s hand. Harry gave her a look that she’d often given Hermione and it was just as effective. She settled back, nervously proud.
“Open your eyes.”
Hermione did and as soon as she saw the light, her eyes popped open even wider. Suddenly the light became much brighter before it vanished, leaving them with sparkles in their vision.
“What happened?” Hermione cried out.
“You lost concentration, is all. Magic is a matter of want, belief, focus and power. When you opened your eyes you saw something you couldn’t believe, and you unfocused your mind, so the light went away. You’ve got buckets of power, your focus is impeccable, and you’ve got the want down just fine, so all you need to work on, is belief. Don’t worry. With practice, it’ll get easier.”
“I second that.” Judith agreed. “Wow!”
“Mummy, can he have dinner with us, please?”
“What about his own dinner?”
“Aah that.” Harry flushed. “I got a call from Sirius before I came over. He has to work late, and Remus is on assignment on the continent. I can do it myself, but I actually came over here to beg a meal from the prettiest girl I know.” He smiled at the brightly blushing Hermione.
“Ooh! You’re a smooth talker, you are.” Judith chuckled. “If you were a few years older I’d have to get Mack to clean his pistol! Would you like to stay for dinner, Harry?”
Harry smirked. “Well, since I cooked it, I might as well eat it.” Hermione giggled and Judith smiled.
“Daddy’s not due home for another hour. Won’t it get cold?”
“Nope!” Harry twitched a finger and a bluish dome appeared over the table. “I’ve placed it in stasis. It’ll stay exactly as it is now, without overcooking.”
Mackenzie Granger arrived home, tired and more than a little grouchy. Hs last patient had been a nightmare. A corpulent woman with a horrible attitude and worse breath. She complained about every single thing, and then informed him she felt she wasn’t getting adequate treatment, and would file a complaint with the local board. He’d asked the staff to write down what they witnessed from the moment she entered the office, to the moment she left, and then had to arrange appointments for them to speak to the investigators. Fortunately, anticipating his request, and having observed the woman, they’d already begin that task.
He hoped Judith had made something with solid meat today. Soups and stews were OK, especially during this time of year when the days got cooler, but sometimes a man just had to tear into something.
He entered the house to the happy squeal of his precious Hermione, who flung herself into his arms, nearly knocking him on his arse in the process. “Daddy! Daddy!” She squealed, “Look what I can do!” Hermione thrust her hand toward him and suddenly a flare of brilliant white light erupted. He threw his arm up to shield his eyes, bumping her hand, and the light went out. Not for the first time, Mack wondered how his baby girl could do such unusual things. When his vision cleared he found Hermione pouting, with her hands folded in front of her, as Judith gently scolded her.
On the table was one of the most extravagant meals he’d ever seen. A full-on crown roast with all the trimmings. Recalling his previous wish, he lifted his eyes to heaven and whispered: “Thank you, God!”
Judith heard it anyway. She chuckled and kissed him.
“Hard day at the surgery?” He returned the kiss and added another for Hermione, who darted from the room.
“Aah, it was a new patient. Mary or Maggie…no! Marge. Marge Dursley…stupid fat cow!”
“Mack!” Judith chided. “Language!” She gestured to her daughter, who stood in the archway giggling.
Mackenzie flushed, but was saved from making apologies by a young voice.
“Dursley?” Harry asked. Inwardly he cursed. He’d forgotten about Marge.
Mackenzie turned to see a small stranger sitting on the couch. He was wearing a medium weight shirt and loose trousers but Mack could also see he was wearing some sort of full-body prosthetic underneath.
“Daddy, this is my best friend, Harry! He lives next door!”
“Yes, actually, we’ve invited him to stay for dinner…especially considering he cooked it.”
“Huh?” Mackenzie DDS, DSC and bar, oral surgeon, endodontist, and former captain in the SAS…was at a complete loss for words. How had a child wearing a full-body brace managed to prepare a meal like this…for that matter, how had he convinced Judith to allow it? The kitchen was her personal fiefdom and let none trespass upon her domain lest they be hunted down and tortured to death…with a pickle fork!
“You need a drink, don’t you?” The boy asked. Mack mutely nodded his head. A second later there was a glass of his favorite single malt in his hand.
Mack had to sit down.
“You said Marge Dursley.” The boy repeated. “About five feet tall and four feet wide? Looks like a bowling ball dressed in tweed?”
Hermione giggled and even Judith, who’d tried so hard to teach her headstrong and outspoken child the meaning of the word ‘decorum’, had to snicker. Mackenzie laughed out loud.
“That’s the one. You sound like you know her.”
“Unfortunately, I do. You look like you need to shred some meat. Just coincidentally, I have prepared a feast worthy of shredding. Let’s eat and I’ll tell you all about it.”
During the dinner, Harry explained his imprisonment at the Dursley home and confirmed that Marge Dursley was his aunt’s, husband’s sister and no, he would never refer to that drunken cow as an aunt. He also told him that she knew how he was treated at number four and not only did she happily watch it, but she also encouraged her bulldog, Ripper, to chase Harry and when he caught him, to actually chew on him. He stood and pulled up one leg of his trousers and showed them some rather nasty bite marks, partially hidden by the silvery struts of his brace.
Hermione erupted in quiet sobs. A gently raised child, she was unused to people being harmed, especially family, and harry easily qualified as ‘family’. Tears flowed down her face. Before her parents could so much as move, Harry sat down beside her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, whispering soothing words into her ears. Hermione turned her head into his neck and wept.
Both Judith and Mackenzie were astounded…first, because the boy had picked up on her distress just as they did. Secondly, he’d done exactly the same thing they did when she was upset. And third, Hermione was not particularly trusting of people outside her family and yet, she allowed it!
When Hermione was settled, Mack asked Harry if he was willing to come to the local regulations board and make a statement to that effect. Harry shook his head. “I can’t tomorrow. I’m scheduled for another evaluation and I won’t be home until late. How about the day after?”
They agreed, and settled it.
The rest of the meal was spent in discussing Hermione’s newly understood abilities. Mack was fascinated and at the same time unnerved to learn that he'd used magic in combat without knowing, but it did explain some of the tight scrapes he’d escaped. Situations where he should have, in all honesty, been killed…or worse. On the other hand, she could easily see Judith using it here at home. Things were always so well tended to, even when she didn’t have time to properly see to her share of the chores.
Harry explained the magical lineages and the possibility that magical lines long thought extinct could be renewed by the addition of another person with magical potential. He also explained that often enough, people without appreciable magical lineage could be born with the ability. Mack understood. He’d studied genetics as a lark, and knew how different genes from diverse sources carried on through their progeny, ofttimes without said progeny even knowing of the traits they carried.
“So you’re saying any of our ancestors might have been magical?”
“Can’t say for certain. It is a theory, however that all mugglebornes are in fact the remnants of magical lines thought to be squibs…erm, people from magical families who are unable to use the magic.”
“And you believe…?”
“Like life, magic will find a way. Heisenberg has indicated that there is no such thing as an accident. I believe that if there’s not a magical ancestor somewhere in the mix, then perhaps magic is just a mutation…maybe it’s the next step in evolution. In either case, our task is to train Hermione to properly use the magic she controls. Sirius and Remus can help there. Sirius is from a long line of magicals, and Remus is an exceptional teacher.”
At eight, Mack walked Harry back to his own home. He didn’t like leaving a five year old alone …even a magical one, but Harry assured him Sirius would be back by ten. A subtle compulsion ‘persuaded’ Mack to accept that, and so, he returned to his own home, leaving Harry to scheme.
Less than an hour later, Harry was at Gringotts, arranging for a background for Sirius Black, just in case anybody needed it. The cover story of his being a scientist for NASA would do, and they made certain to include just enough of a paper trail, and it would be sufficiently authentic to convince anyone searching that he worked on something very highly classified. It cost him a bit over a thousand Galleons, but he felt it was money well spent.
Immediately after leaving the bank, he apparated to the Ministry of Magic where he snuck into the Department of Mysteries, and stole a time turner. Fortunately for him, Sirius would be sequestered during the Wizengamot session while Dumbledore tried to push through some more laws that made no sense. It would likely take several days before either he was satisfied, or he gave up. Sirius had decided to make him give up. He had the advantage. Dumbledore made it a point to never miss the Hallowe’en feast at Hogwarts.
The next morning, following a slight memory alteration, Judith took Hermione to school before heading to their practice, and Harry, Mack and Harry as Sirius Black, drove down to the regulatory board and with ‘Sirius’ right there, Harry told his story. As soon as he had, the police were called and Harry had to tell the story again. ‘Sirius’ was questioned and he repeated the cover story he’d prepared.
Marge Dursley was arrested the next morning. Her trial wouldn’t take place for nearly a year. Ripper was sent to a shelter. Unfortunately he was so used to being allowed to do as he wanted; he attacked a handler. He was adjudged a danger, and was put down several weeks later.
For the first time since the fall of Voldemort, Albus Dumbledore wasn’t enjoying the Hallowe’en feast. His ouster that June had cost him terribly. None of his usual ‘friends’ wanted to be seen as supporting him, lest his ill fortune become theirs. Despite his nearly nonstop politicking, he was no closer to regaining his positions of authority than he was then. The sheep just didn’t understand! They needed him…or his hand-chosen successor to guide them. He knew the fools of the Wizarding World would choke to death on their own spittle were he not there to swab out their throats for them!
That the Wizengamot had been so unsympathetic to his ideas was yet another terrible blow to his massive ego.
Since Hermione had so few friends, the Grangers had decided to allow the children to go guising before their traditional Hallowe’en party. Sirius and Remus were happy to join in on the fun. Sirius had never gone, and while Remus knew of the practice, he’d been too old to participate. Now, they could both enjoy watching their favorite kids as they went from door to door dressed in their costumes.
Harry had decided to be a Jedi Knight, coemplete with plastic lightsaber, and Hermione dressed up like Leia…white robes, plastic laser gun, cinnamon buns, and all
While Sirius had been raised pureblood, Lily had ensured he‘d seen 'Star Wars' and 'Empire Strikes Back', so he understood the referent.
They had been chatting with some of the parents on this street, when Mack noticed trouble brewing. A block away, five teenagers shoved a child down and snatched his bag of sweets.
He swore; “Oh hell, this isn’t good!” Hermione and Harry were only a half-block from them, but also a half-block from the street-punks. He stepped up his pace and began to close on the trouble. Sirius and Remus joined him, and the parents they’d been chatting with, came along.
He was fifty feet away when things got worse. Harry confronted the bullies.
Mack shook his head. As impressive as Harry’s demonstrations had been, he didn’t think the slight child in the body brace was up to fighting off five teenagers…especially five teens who, by the smell of things, had been both drinking and using something a bit stronger. Mack was about to…discourage the punks. Remus dropped his wand from its holster and wordlessly spoke to Sirius who followed suit. Both had seen this kind of situation at Hogwarts…usually the Snakes harassing other students. They’d devised several strategies to deal with such bullies. Here, there was the additional complication of the muggles, but they felt they could deal with the teens and still avoid violating the Secrecy act.
They didn’t get the chance. Harry addressed the leader of this little gang of thugs. “What are you doing?”
“We’re takin’ your sweets, boyo. Now give over, or we’ll hurt yeh!”
“Leave us be.” Harry ordered quietly but with a tone of command not easily refused.
Unfortunately the teenager was sufficiently drunk that he did.
With a ‘Snikt’ a blade flashed. The teen snarled. “I said give over, or I might just decide to cut up your little girlfriend’s pretty face!” Now, things had gone deadly serious. Dan prepared himself for battle. He knew how to take a knife from an enemy soldier, but with the children present, there was the additional risk of them being harmed, not to mention this boy’s mates might also be armed. Sirius and Remus had been easing their way around the punks from either side to catch them with confundus charms. Mack tensed himself to leap on the punk, but got no further.
With an easily recognizable snap-hiss, the plastic lightsaber in Harry’s hand surged to life. A blisteringly fast series of slashes followed and the street rat’s switchblade became a ‘half-a-knife’, and his clothing was reduced to some rather expensive cleaning rags. Narrow scores along his forearms erupted in pain as the Jedi Weapon slashed. Harry threw out his arm. The punk yelped in shock as he flew across the street and into a brick wall. He fell unconscious at the impact.
Harry stood between Hermione and the other children and the four remaining teenagers, his lightsaber emitting a humming buzz.
To the others, he said; “You should understand not all smaller people are defenseless. The force sees to that.” He added; “Go home and rethink your lives. Take him with you.”
They couldn’t move fast enough. Their stolen bags of candy littered the ground as they hauled up their unconscious leader and fled.
Harry’s lightsaber emitted a hiss of seeming-protest, as the energy blade returned to its housing.
Twenty seconds later the roaring of a motor and the screech of tyres sounded from a block over.
“That was AWESOME!” one little boy shouted.
Hermione latched onto Harry and hugged the stuffing out of him.
Mackenzie decided the time to end this excursion had come. He announced; “Time to go home, kids!” to which both Harry and Hermione responded as young children will.
The other parents present agreed and amidst much protest, the children were ushered to their homes.
At home, Hermione was full of questions.
“How did you do that, harry? Where did you get a real lightsaber? I remember when you bought it, it wasn’t real them. Why did that boy fly across the road, is he hurt?”
Harry smiled and placed a hand against Hermione’s mouth before she could ask even more rapid-fire questions.
“First of all, it isn’t real. I don’t have a real lightsaber. In fact I don’t think the technology will be around to make one for at least a hundred years or more. What I did was create a lightshow and cast some cutting hexes, and then a banishing charm. As for him, I wasn’t going to worry myself about hurting him.”
“Hermione, he had a switchblade knife! He had no problems threatening us with it, and he told me he was going to cut you up if I didn’t give him what he wanted.”
“Why didn’t you just give him the sweets, Harry? Remus asked.
“Because if I did, there’s; A, no guarantee he would have left us alone. His knife was already out and we both know that bullies never stop until they’re forcibly stopped, and B, there were other kids on the street. I didn’t want them to get hurt either.”
“Those kids weren’t your responsibility.” Remus chided.
“All that is necessary for evil to triumph is that good men stand by and do nothing.” Harry quoted. Remus blushed in shame, Sirius looked confused and both Mack and Judith hid a smile.
At Hogwarts School, in the divination tower, a woman bedecked in shawls and trinkets, and sitting before a crystal ball, went into a trance. Eyes empty, she spoke in a harsh rasping tone that sounded more animal than human.
“The gates of time have opened for the savior; returned to his previous life…A thousand years will he venture, to correct the sins of others…The dark lords will be destroyed. And no one will know. ”
Sybill Trelawney woke from her trance, and shook her head. “I must be more tired than I thought.” She stood on weary legs and shambled off to bed.
At breakfast on November the first, Albus knew it was going to be a bad day, given how Minerva was glaring at him. If looks could kill, he’d be in Hell, roasting over a lake of fire! He understood why the moment he opened the newspaper to find an image of the circular hole at Number four Privet Drive. He had to say the yellow safety tape made for a nice offset to the dark earth and the swarming muggles.
HARRY POTTER, MISSING: PRESUMED DEAD!
Dear readers, writes Rita Skeeter, special correspondent to The Daily Prophet, it has come to the attention of this intrepid reporter of fact that our little hero, Harry Potter, who on thirty first October of five years ago, survived the killing curse from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, destroying the Dark lord in the process, has vanished from his relative’s home. More to the point, their home has also disappeared. On the evening of fifth May of this year, a brilliant white light surrounded the home of Mr. Vernon and Mrs. Petunia Durzey, Harry Potter’s only living relatives. When the light faded, neighbors discovered the house was gone, as though blasted from the very earth by forces yet unknown. What could have eradicated the house so thoroughly and yet left the surrounding homes undisturbed?
Why was Harry Potter, national hero, there in the first place when thousands of families all offered to open their doors to the orphaned waif?
This attractive purveyor of verity has discovered the answer, or at least, -one- of the answers.
It seems in his self appointed omniscient glory, Albus Dumbledore had sealed the Potter’s legitimate will, quite against Ministry law and all magical traditions, appointed himself as baby Harry’s magical guardian, and placed our child-hero in the care of Lily Potter’s muggle sister and her husband…people Harry was specifically prohibited him from even knowing, let alone living with, due to their Arcanophobic tendencies. This, two days before Sirius Black, Potter’s REAL magical guardian was framed for the murder of the now disgraced Peter Pettigrew and twelve muggle bystanders and sent to Azkaban without the inconvenience of a trial.
The question this dedicated and rather fashionable reporter asks is WHY? Why would Dumbledore violate the law placing little Harry with people who were never to see him? Why did he assume guardianship of our hero…two days -before- Black was sent to Azkaban? Why did he conspire with former Minister of Magic, Millicent Bagnold and front-runner for the Minister’s position, Bartemius Crouch, to have Harry’s true guardian sent to that dread prison? (See: Azkaban suicide; was it really? Page 7)
This reporter has also discovered Albus Dumbledore may have had something to do with the torture of Franklin and Alice Longbottom. Perhaps not so coincidently, Alice Longbottom was Harry Potter’s godmother. This chain of events is entirely too convenient for this reporter’s taste.
In this reporter’s justified opinion, Albus Dumbledore should be hauled in front of the Wizengamot and force-fed Veritaserum until it is coming out of his ears. Then, maybe we can understand the truths he holds entirely to himself…
Albus Dumbledore close his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his long and twice broken nose. No, this was not going to be a good day at all!
His foresight, proved to be entirely correct as he retunre tohis office…to find a freshly delivered Howler floating right in front of him.
ALBUS DUMBLEDORE! HOW-DARE-YOU TREAT THAT POOR BOY LIKE THAT! LEAVING HIM WITH MUGGLES, INDEED! YOU KNOW ARTHUR AND I VOLUNTEERED TO RAISE HIM HERE AT THE BURROW, WE EVEN OFFERED TO GO UNDER FIDELIUS TO KEEP HIM SAFE! BUT NOOO! YO ALWAYS HAVE TO BE RIGHT! THIS TIME, YOU---WERE---WRONG!
The howler exploded with enough power to throw him back out his door and down the spiral stairs.
His last thoughts before he succumbed to unconsciousness was; ~Oh dear! Molly must be really upset!~
Flopsey found him at the base of the stairs and took him to Madam Poppy for healing.
In early November, Judith had just picked Harry and Hermione up from school when Harry spoke up. “Hermione?”
“Mmhmm?” She looked up from her copy of ‘Anne of Green Gables’.
“I’d like to teach you the basics of both Meditation and Tai Chi.”
“Ooh!” She breathed. “I’ve read about Tai Chi Chuan. It’s an exercise form that emphasises fluidity of motion and breathing over brute strength and…”
“And it’s a very good introduction to the world of physical fitness. It’s also a good way to prepare yourself to learn magic. You see, Hermione, you need to exercise on a regular basis to improve your health, both physical and mental. When your body is fit, it makes your magic all that much more powerful, and when your mind is calm, you are more receptive of new information.”
“But you said I’d be the most powerful witch since Merlin!” She protested. Hermione liked to play but she detested anything so mundane as a regular fitness program.
“Yes…” Harry agreed. “I did. But you still have to work at it. Nothing in this universe comes free. I’d like you to practice Tai Chi with me, and when you’re ready, I’ll introduce you to Aikido.”
“It’s a self-defense programme that’s quite effective in…deterring…bullies.”
“Really?” Hermione was at the same time, enthralled and fearful. Bullies liked to hurt her. She didn’t like being hurt, but so far…until she’d met Harry, the bullies had won.
As soon as they’d put their things away and changed their clothing, Harry met Hermione in her back garden and began to teach.
“If you want to learn Tai Chi, you must learn focus. The movements of Tai Chi will aid you in your focus. Be calm, think of just one thought, something that relaxes you, and concentrate on it.”
Hermione nodded and thought about the things, which relaxed her. She tried to find things she loved, and to her surprise, she found her mind moving again and again to the black-haired boy standing in front of her.
Harry was effortlessly reading her surface thoughts. ~I’ll have to teach her to occlude her mind.~
Smiling, he said; “Good. Now, Tai Chi is basically moving meditation. First, you bend your knees…yeah, like that, but not so much. OK. Next, the first position is called Din Boo...”
Harry nudged Hermione into a specific position, adjusting her arms and legs.
“Note the position of your arms and legs; look at your feet. You see?”
Hermione nodded. Harry smiled and said; “Good. Now, we move like this, to the second position.”
He rearranged her arms and legs again. “This position is called Sui Boo.” When he’d gotten her arranged, he added; “Now we move from Sui Boo to Din Boo, like this.” He demonstrated the smooth shift to Den Boo and back.
For the next half hour Harry walked Hermione, through the basic steps of Tai Chi, straightening her posture and explaining what she was doing and why. What amazed her was that Harry had her concentrating on her relaxing image while moving between the first few forms.
Harry touched Hermione, stopping her motion and breaking her concentration. It was only minutes, but it seemed like it was over in seconds and when she came out of her meditative trance, she was totally relaxed and calmer, more accepting of the world around herself.
“You see it, don’t you?” he smiled
“I think so... It was amazing,” she replied softly.
Harry grinned. “I know what you mean. I learned if from an old man in a little park in London. Funny thing is, I’ve never been able to find that park again. We’ll practice together. Tai Chi teaches us focus. To learn Tai Chi means to learn about yourself.”
Hermione’s face split in a wide grin. “Thank you, Harry! You’re my very best friend!” She threw herself at her friend and gave him what her mother called a ‘Hermy-hug’.
Harry had always loved being hugged by his beloved. This was no different.
“Mummy!” Hermione burst into the room waving a folder filled with paper. “Look what Harry did!” She plopped the folder onto the table, nearly spilling Judith’s tea, and flipped it open. Judith managed to relocate the tea and gave her daughter a little glare for her carelessness. Hermione stammered an apology, as Harry entered the room a bit slower with a bright red blush.
“Do you mind if I look, Harry?”
Still blushing, the dark haired child shook his head. Judith lifted the first page, and gasped at the precise drawings. She looked at a few more before saying; “Harry! These are lovely!” The images seemed to be surrealist images, or possibly abstracts, of what appeared to be a lounge. The ceiling was rounded, and the couches seemed moulded into the walls, but two identifiable people, Harry and Hermione sat cuddled together in one, while ostensibly watching something on a vastly oversized telly. Another image showed a calm blue room with a painter’s easel and a half-done portrait. Behind the easel was a telly screen with what looked like a schematic of a futuristic aircraft having various lights and symbols depicted here and there.
The next page showed a futuristic galley with some odd but clearly identifiable cooking gadgets; a bathroom with a shower. There was what looked like a young man sleeping on a table on what could only be a futuristic medical exam room, complete with shelves and cabinets and odd, floating devices. Over the bed was another overlarge telly screen showing a surprisingly accurate image of the body’s circulatory system. Other pictures showed a maze of piping surrounded a large circular tank with another squared tank in the foreground, a bed set into the wall, surrounded by cabinets and drawers.
“These really are lovely, Harry! You might want to consider a career as an artist!” She praised. Having studied art as a minor in college, she wasn’t just paying lip service. His work was top notch, with line and form fluidly meshing into an organic whole. She was truly impressed.
Of course, that’s what he had in mind all along.
A/N: Rondo in D is a lively, fast tune that somehow ‘complements’ Snoopy’s theme almost perfectly. I needed something a gifted child of six could play, that Harry could play along with, without causing a musical disaster. My first thought was Beethoven’s ‘Für Elise’, but I also tried pieces from Tchaikovski, Rachmaninoff, Dvorjak, Schubert, Vivaldi, Rossini, Korsakov and Stravinsky and played them together with Snoopy’s theme, to see what they sounded like. Rondo in D was the closest fit, both melodically but also in tempo as well, and while there were a few difficult spots, the two went together very well indeed.
Harry in the same place as Harry/Sirius: Dumbledore told them they must not be seen and Hermione explained that the younger version of the time traveler one might well be driven mad. I disagree. In ‘Harry Potter Wiki’ it says: “It is extremely important that the user of a Time-Turner not be seen by past or future versions of themselves unless, of course, said versions are aware of their usage of a Time-Turner.”
That actually makes more sense. If the person going back knows he is going back, or even can go back, he will understand what he is seeing is most likely the future version of himself. Moreover, Dumbledore come from a more scientifically ignorant time. In the 1800’s the genre of science fiction had just been introduced (Jules Verne wrote ‘From The Earth To The Moon’ in 1865, and it was first translated to English in 1873). Harry and Hermione, on the other hand, were born in a time when science fiction was quickly becoming science fact. Man had been to the moon and back, (Sigh!) Lasers were being used for mundane purposes, microwave ovens were in nearly every home, CAT-Scans and MRI’s had been developed, and by 1983, IBM compatibles (AT & XT) were common in offices, Microsoft was quickly becoming established as a software pirate and monopoly, Windows 1.0 had been introduced, and Commodore had introduced the Amiga 2000, a graphic user interface system which worked better than anything to date.
(For those ‘Babylon 5’ fans; they had only five sets. Everything else was done on five networked Amiga 2000’s)
the tai chi exercise is stolen from Potter’s Revenge’ by BobMin365.