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Light of Hope: Part One
Chapter Four: Hogwarts

They stopped at The Dursley's to drop off Harry and pick up Histell, and then the Professor and Hope left for Hogwarts.

Professor McGonagall tapped Hope's trunk with her wand, muttered something, then handed her a small box. "Here is your trunk. I will unshrink it when we reach Hogwarts." She then took Hope, who flinched slightly at the unexpected motion, by the hand and said, "I am going to Apparate to Hogwarts. You may feel a bit--strange at first, but it will soon be over, and it is the fastest way to get there."

Hope closed her eyes and nodded. McGonagall was holding her hand tightly, and it made her slightly nervous. Then the world disappeared. She was being dissolved, and reassembled. After a moment, her feet felt the ground beneath them (had she even left the ground?), and the professor was steadying her. Blushing, she released the arm that she had been gripping so tightly and took a deep breath.

The professor didn't seem to mind the space intrusion. "We are directly outside of the gates of Hogwarts; the wards don't allow Apparating or Disapparating within the grounds. Come with me." She took Hope's arm and guided her through what felt like a curtain of sparks that fizzed in Hope's mind, even more than Gringott's had. She didn't react, but made sure to follow McGonagall very closely.

Professor McGonagall led Hope through countless echoing corridors, up stairs, and down stairs until Hope, who had eaten nothing but the strawberry ice cream cone that afternoon, felt a bit lightheaded.

Suddenly McGonagall stopped. "Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans," she said in a clipped tone, and there was the sound of stone graining against stone. "The password to the Headmaster's office," she explained. They took a few steps forward, and McGonagall stopped. "The staircase is... unusual. You need only step on to the bottommost stair, and it will carry you upwards. It is two feet in front of you.

Hope stepped forwards, experiencing the unique, though not unpleasant sensation of moving upwards without her advice or consent. She wasn't altogether certain that she liked the feeling.

As they went higher, she became sure that she didn't like it at all. She had no idea how high she was, and with out Harry, there was no one to tell her. She wasn't about to ask McGonagall. Unconsciously, she gripped the Professor's arm more tightly.

"Here we are," Professor McGonagall said. Hope released her death grip on McGonagall's arm. "Minerva, come in," a light male voice called. McGonagall steered Hope into a room that sparkled in her senses, then released her arm. "And--Miss Potter, is it?"

Hope turned and was struck with a fizzing glory unlike anything she had ever felt in another human being. There was less--was it magic?--than in Hogwarts or Gringotts, but it was of a different sort; more tightly packed, and was obviously used often.

He was waiting for her to answer. Hope wasted a moment wishing that Harry was there it speak for her, then said softly, "Yes, sir." Was he a sir? What if this man--so very powerful-- had a title that she was supposed to use?

Professor McGonagall spoke then. In the wake of the man's powerful greeting, Hope had almost forgotten that she was there. "Miss Potter, this is Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts. And this is Professor Snape, our Potions Master."

The other man--who had eased into her awareness like oil--said in a cold voice, "Miss Potter." Something about the way he said Potter urged her to store his greeting away for later dissection.

"Miss Potter," the lighter, older voice--Professor Dumbledore-- said.

"I have certain things to discuss with both of you," McGonagall said, presumably speaking to the men. "In private. Miss Potter, if you would, wait until we are finished. There is a chair directly to your left."

"Thank you." Three sets of footprints moved away; a door closed. Hope found the seat, a comfortable chintz armchair, and sat.

The door creaked, and Hope looked up, startled. She had Hisseth on her lap and had been talking to him.

"Miss Potter," Dumbledore said, his voice grave. "Professor McGonagall tells me that your parents left a letter in your vault?"

"Yes"

"Do you give permeations for me to read it?"

Hope considered the man's tingle. There was little change from when she first faced him: a sadness, but she trusted him.

"Alright." Hope took the tube from her pocket and held it out.

"Thank you." The Headmaster took the cylinder and slid the roll of parchment out of it.

"May I read it aloud?"

Hope nodded.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and began to read.


When he was finished, a silence spread throughout the room.

"Miss Potter, what do you know about your parents?"

Hope blinked. That was the last thing she had expected anyone to ask. "I-- Nothing, really."

"Then I shall tell you.

"James Potter came to Hogwarts when he was eleven. There, he made three very close friends, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew, and began his quest for the favor of one Lily Evans, another pupil in his year.

"In their seventh year, Lily Evans agreed, and two years later, they were married. They gave birth to a son and a daughter, whom they named Harry and Hope.

"Lord Voldemort reached the peak of his powers at this time. He had several times tried to convince your parents, powerful wizards, to join him; each time they refused.

"Due to certain circumstanced which I cannot discuss here, Voldemort made it his first priority to kill you and your parents.

"The Fidelius Charm is a spell which allows a person, place or thing to effectively disappear. The charm utilizes one person, a Secret Keeper, who keep the secret of the location of the person, place or thing.

"The Secret Keeper may tell whomever they chose where the hidden thing is, but they are
the only one who can do so.

"Your parents, after we received word that Voldemort was looking for them, chose to hide their house using the Fidelius Charm. Everyone assumed that Sirius Black, his closest friend, would be there Secret Keeper.

"Shortly after your parents' death, Sirius confronted Peter Pettigrew, and witnesses said that Peter screamed 'James and Lily, Sirius! How could you?' before the street exploded. Twelve muggles were killed, and all that was found of Pettigrew was a finger.

"When Voldemort attacked Godric's Hollow, your home, it was obvious that the Secret Keeper had betrayed Lily and James Potter to Voldemort. With the information that we had it seemed obvious that Sirius Black was the betrayer. When it appeared that he had committed a mass manslaughter, there seemed to be no need for a trial. Before your parent's death, Sirius would have seemed the last person to do such a thing. If he had betrayed the Potters to Voldemort, the man we had known could have been an act. But with the evidence if this letter," he paused briefly, "It seems that we need to evaluate his case."

"How, Albus?" Professor McGonagall's voice was sharp.

"I shall go to the Ministry immediately, and see if a trial can still be held. But now," and the man's voice, which had seemed so aged and weary, became once again light and filled with youth, "I believe that you should escort Miss Potter to the Great Hall. Dinner is about to begin."





The next month was probably both the best and the worst that either Harry or Hope had ever had.

On the one hand, The Dursleys were too afraid to do more than glare at Harry, and even that was rare. He was given Dudley's second bedroom, and his cousin was plainly terrified to be in the same room as Harry. He was fed regularly, and some of the books in his new bedroom were quite interesting.

Hope was spending her time learning and being tested by the professors at Hogwarts. She practiced with her new reading device in the library, demonstrated her skills at chopping, grating, and crushing different items used to make potions. She was also given a measuring cup that, after being told the correct quantity, poured the exact amount needed for a potion. She was teaching Histell exact shades and such terms as boiling, simmering, and about to explode.

The Professors had explained that her and Harry's ability to speak with snakes, Parseltongue, was a rare gift and Parselmouths were often thought to be evil. She agreed not to mention it, as did Harry when she informed him. Neither of them had any wish to be paid any more attention.

When she had proven that she could keep up in all of her classes save practical Astronomy, she was instructed on the use of her cane.

She knew the basics from school, but she had never been able to try them. Now she learned everything: how to tell how far away the ground or wall was, if the wall was really a door, if there was a sudden drop nearby, and how uneven the ground was. She placed the Great Hall on the locator, and was instructed on how to put her dormitory on it when she was sorted. She was also taught a spell to tell the time, for which she was extremely grateful.

She made her acquaintance with Hagrid, the very large groundskeeper, and was squeezed so exhuberantly that she gasped for breath after he let go.

She was told, over and over, how very much she looked like her mother.

She rarely heard from Dumbledore, and didn't think that it was any of her business to ask where had been, or if there was any success with Sirius Black.

On the other hand, the twins had never spent more than a few hours apart. They missed the late-night squabbles over who got the cot, playing pranks on Dudley, and just talking. It was harder than it usually was to talk silently; Hope thought it had something to do with distance. Talking for a long period of time was tiring; they had limited their talking time to right before bed, where they could recover their energy by sleeping. While talking, Harry felt information seeping over the link. It was slightly disconcerting, but it did answer some questions: in school, studying had seemed more like revising if the other twin had already learned the material. They had discussed it and come to the conclusion that it wasn't cheating, since whoever had received the information really knew it, they didn't just write down the answers, as Dudley did. Either way, they couldn't do anything about it.

It was in August, the twentieth, when Aunt Petunia finally realized that the twins were going to be gone for most of the year. She also realized that when they were gone, she would have to do all of the work she had always foisted on the twins, and that she wouldn't have to do as much work if Harry sterilized everything before he left.

She woke her nephew early the next morning and pointed to the back door, by which were neatly stacked three cans of white paint and a paintbrush.

"After you do the fence, mow the lawn and weed the garden. Don't come in until you're done; I don't want to clean up your filth."

Harry blinked at her. It wasn't as if he hadn't expected the Dursley's good behavior would eventually wear off, but he had hoped that he would have at least the summer.

He did as he was told.





When Hope was dropped off at the Dursley's on August 30th, she was greeted with a hug almost as strong as Hagrid's.

"Your tickets," said an amused Professor McGonagall as she handed them to Harry. The train leaves on September 1st, from King's Cross Station at eleven o'clock. Do not be late."


A/N Like? Love? Loathe? Review! (Yes corny, but how else am I going to know what you think?) Constructive criticism is appreciated, praise is delightedly devoured, flames are decidedly unappreciated--for Pete's sake, people, if you don't like my fic, tell me why, don't netscream it in a dialect so peppered with cursing that it's hard to see the actual words.
As for the chapter: Sorry this is so short; I didn't have a chance to write until just recently and I decided that short was better than very late.
Several people have mentioned that they like the fact that Harry and Hope are equal: they shall probably continue to be so. Hope isn't learning anything from her classes just yet, just what she should have learned in primary school.