The Man Who Knew Almost Nothing

Chapter Thirteen

Finding the lost

Hermione arrived with an enormous spell book just less than half an hour later. She, not tied down by Ron, Apparated in to avoid the messiness of the Floo. Nineteen years old and Ron still hadn’t passed his test. Apparating just doesn’t come easily to some wizards, and he was one of them. Harry preferred almost any other form of transportation himself.

“Sorry, but it wasn’t exactly where I thought it was. Must be losing my touch,” Hermione confessed, depositing the tome on the table.

She noticed that Harry looked a lot better, though by no means himself. Of course why shouldn’t he look worried? She knew that bad things often happened to people he loved.

“It’s all right. I’m just glad you’re here,” said Harry, brushing breadcrumbs from his robes.

“Do you have something of his to use for the spell?” she questioned.

“Would a shoe do the trick?” questioned Harry, remembering that Gilderoy had stashed a pair in the guest room.

“Was he the last to wear it?”

“Yes.”

“Perfect then. Fetch that while I work on the incantation,” she said.

“Right,” Harry agreed, dashing to the guest room.

“Sirius, is he a wreck or is he all right?” Hermione asked quietly, opening the book.

“He’s fine for the moment, but if we don’t find Gilderoy soon and in one piece, that will certainly change,” said Sirius.

“No pressure then,” she said with a dry laugh.

Harry returned with the shoe, placing it on the table next to the book. He looked at her expectantly.

“I haven’t tried this before, so both of you may want to stand back,” Hermione advised them.

When the pair had moved out of the way, Hermione took a deep breath and tapped the shoe with her wand as she began the incantation for the Reperio Erus spell. The incantation was a long one, but Hermione managed it without skipping a beat or pausing as she said the words.

The shoe seemed to glimmer for a moment as she touched it with the wand again.

“Oh!” she exclaimed as her wand began to shake in her hand, causing her to grip it tightly with both hands. It was pointing toward the door, seemingly with a mind of its own. “Grab your cloaks, guys. It’s time to go,” Hermione told them.

Then trudged through the darkness outside with Sirius lighting the way with his wand and Hermione leading the way with hers, keeping a firm grip on it at all times. They were bundled up against the chilly weather, but Harry was also carrying an extra cloak, a good heavy one that was robin’s egg blue in color. Gilderoy had not even had the chance to wear it yet. And Harry worried that he would need something against the cold.

The wand was leading them not directly to their objective, but over a meandering course that mimicked the one Gilderoy had taken away from the cottage that morning. At first he had climbed over a few hills, wandered around a bit, and then apparently began walking back to the Little Burrow in entirely the wrong direction. It was after a good bit of walking that they came to the unpaved, Muggle road that Harry used when driving to town or anywhere else for that matter. And it was there that they stopped.

“What is it?” Harry asked.

“The wand ... it’s waiting I think,” said Hermione, stepping in one direction then the other. “No, Gilderoy must have looked up and down the road,” she amended.

“And?”

“Here we go again,” said Hermione, smiling as her wand began pulling her down the road in the opposite direction of Harry’s home. She started to jog to keep up with the pull. “It wants to go faster,” she said over her shoulder.

“Say, you don’t suppose Gilderoy was picked up by a car or something?” Sirius asked Harry as they began to jog to keep up with Hermione.

“We don’t get a lot of traffic through this area, but it does seem to be a possibility,” said Harry grimly, thinking that it was very likely that they would be altering some memories before the night was over.

Their invigorating run ended about an hour later when a small house came into view. It was a ramshackle little place with a white picket fence and curtains in the windows and a car parked in the yard. The lights were still on inside, but as they stopped, panting for breath in the autumn air, they couldn’t hear any noise coming from inside. No television or wireless set blaring or even the sound of conversation. If it weren’t for the lights, Harry would have sworn that no one was at home. Harry, as the wand permitted them to stop, having done its duty, glanced at their clothes and gestured for Sirius and Hermione to pull their cloaks closer around themselves to hide the robes and such that they were wearing underneath.

“So ... do you want to knock?” Hermione asked Harry.

“Sure,” he shrugged as she slipped her wand back into a pocket.

Harry smoothed his windblown black hair before knocking and managing a friendly, disarming smile.

The man who answered the door was not exactly what Harry expected. He was thin, a bit on the short side, and reminded him of someone, though he couldn’t say precisely to whom he bore such an uncanny resemblance.

“You’ve come for him at last! He said you would. The missus was just getting out some blankets for the couch, but I guess he won’t be staying the night,” laughed the man, ushering them all into the warm house. “You are Harry Potter, aren’t you?” he asked, pausing for a moment and putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Yes, sir, I am. But how ...?”

“Oh, the mark on your forehead, of course. My son Colin hasn’t stopped talking about you in almost seven years now,” the man laughed heartily.

“You’re not Colin Creevey’s father by any chance, are you, sir?” asked Harry, feeling greatly relieved. It was beginning to look as though memory charms wouldn’t be necessary after all.

“And Dennis’s too. I’m pleased to finally meet you,” he said, shaking hands with Harry.

“Likewise, sir,” said Harry.

“Isn’t Colin graduating at the end of this year?” asked Hermione politely.

“Oh, yes, just has to have his Newts and all,” said Mr. Creevey pleasantly.

“If I remember correctly, he was rather good at Herbology,” commented Harry. “And annoying people,” he added silently.

“I don’t know all that much about his classes. That’s really his mum’s department.”

“So, Gilderoy is here?” asked Harry as Mr. Creevey offered them seats in his parlor, which was an odd mixture of wizard and Muggle things: moving pictures on the wall, an old television in the corner, a pot of Floo powder by the hearth, a standard Muggle clock on the end table. It was all rather quaint.

“Yes, he is. I picked him up on the old road on my way back from my milk run. He was right lost. Charming chap, by the way,” said Mr. Creevey with a wide grin. “Though I get the feeling that he’s that-a-way, if you take my meaning.”

“Crazy? Oh, no, he’s just suffering from a bad memory charm,” said Hermione hastily before Harry or Sirius could ask their host to define ‘that-a-way’. The results, she surmised, were not likely to be pleasant.

“Well, there is that too. He explained it to us. Rather interesting stuff,” Creevey remarked.

“Where is he now?” asked Harry.

“The missus needed a hand with the linens. I expect he’s in the attic. I’ll fetch him down for you,” he offered.

“Please,” said Harry.

The trio waited quietly as they heard Mr. Creevey walk upstairs. Harry was content to sit in the warmth of the parlor and bask in the relief that he felt. Everything was going to be all right again. They would be returning home soon. He closed his eyes for a moment and smiled.

“Ah, there’s my godson,” Sirius chuckled, putting an arm around his shoulders. “I was afraid some horrible, unsmiling wizard had taken his place.”

“Harry?” a familiar worried voice called from behind the couch where they were sitting.

Harry practically leapt from his seat to greet Gilderoy, who looked sheepish and a little concerned.

“Gilderoy! I was so worried! I thought ... I thought horrible things had happened to you. I looked everywhere. Sirius too. It took Hermione and the world’s largest spell book ... and a shoe ... to find you,” Harry babbled, throwing his arms around Gilderoy.

“I just got a little lost, Harry. And I knew you would find me. I wasn’t scared. I knew you’d be worried and all, but other than that it hasn’t been bad. Mr. Creevey and his wife have been awfully nice,” Gilderoy told him, holding Harry close as he explained.

“I’m glad you’re all right. I was very worried about you,” said Harry as they released one another.

Gilderoy smiled and lightly touched Harry’s face before kissing him. That kiss said more than words ever could. Harry knew that Gilderoy finally knew that he was loved, not just because he was handsome or somehow useful, but simply because he was. The kiss was different. It was not bereft of passion, but it was compassionate, tender, and loving too. Hermione blushed as she watched them, feeling that the moment was too sacred to be so public. It was like watching the first kiss ever, or at least the first perfect kiss. Sirius rolled his eyes, and Mr. Creevey looked a little embarrassed.

“You want to go home now?” Sirius asked them as they parted and grinned at one another.

“Sounds good,” said Harry, giving Gilderoy his cloak, which he immediately threw around his shoulders with a grateful look.

“Thank you for having me over. I had a splendid time. Perhaps we can do this again?” Gilderoy asked Mr. Creevey.

Creevey smiled faintly and said, “Right. Of course. You folks have a nice evening.”

It was very late by then, so Hermione Disapparated home, leaving Sirius, Harry, and Gilderoy to trudge the weary mile. Sirius could have easily Disapparated as well, but he didn’t want to leave his godson and Gilderoy to walk home alone. Gilderoy still looked a little shamefaced and embarrassed about getting lost when he only meant to go for a short walk, but Harry would hear none of it. The relief had made him nearly giddy.

“One good thing certainly came of this,” Harry said to Gilderoy, hesitating a glance at Sirius before grinning. “Sirius has finally agreed to move in with us, if you approve.”

“Of course I approve,” said Gilderoy, laughing happily. “We’ll be like ... like, oh Harry, like a family,” he said as his blue eyes began to water with tears of happiness.

“Exactly,” said Harry, clapping Sirius on the back. “Try to look excited!”

“I will. Just as soon as I finish fighting my nausea. I swear the two of you sound so in love that it’s positively sickening.”