Family Ties

Dean decided to try the very next night. He found his way back to the stretch of corridor on the seventh floor with the tapestry that had a troll beating a tiny wizard over the head with what looked like a whole tree.

Starting at a suit of armour, he walked up the corridor, thinking fiercely: I need to find out all about Gary Heaton... Three times he did this, and at first he thought it hadn't worked. He'd expected a noise of some kind when the door materialised, but it just appeared there, looking as solid as if it had always been there. He grasped the handle and pulled.

Inside was a dimly lit room. There were filing cabinets all along one wall, a large table surrounded by floating candles and bookcases. The bookcases were laden with newspapers, seven Hogwarts yearbooks that on first glance looked no different than the four Dean already possessed, and various trinkets; including a careworn wand broken at the handle made of different types of wood, a battered guitar with no strings and a chipped crystal ball.

Dean walked to the first bookcase and picked up the first newspaper he saw; it was the one with the story about Jack Webster's sentencing. He looked at the moving picture for a few moments, feeling a gnawing sense of hatred in his gut. Webster looked up at him from the page, his eyes bright and psychotic. He set it back down and moved over to the bookcase with the guitar sitting on it. Scratched on the back were the letters GDH 4 ALT. It was scratched and worn; someone had obviously played it incessantly for a long time. There was a tarnished brass telescope on the shelf above the guitar with finger prints all over it. Dean picked it up and turned it over in his hands and then set it down and looked over the other shelves.

There were two broken, dented beaters bats sitting side by side with the initials GDH carved into them. On the topmost shelf was a stunning glass ball with the solar system floating inside, the sun casting a warm glow over the ceiling. There was a set of Gobstones, a Wizarding chess set (looking almost unused) and on the bottom shelf beside the guitar, a small box.

He picked this box up and turned it over and over again in his hands. It was made of velvet and was a deep red wine colour. He prised it open to find a thick gold ring inside. There was a delicate abstract pattern stretching around the outside of the band. A wedding ring, Dean supposed. He must have been married, I wonder why it's here? He closed the box and put it back on the shelf where he found it.

He moved over to the filing cabinets, wanting to get a closer look at the labels. The first read: '1951-1962 Gary Dean Heaton.' Dean smiled to think he'd shared this brave man's name. He tugged at the handle, but the drawer didn't budge. Dean took his wand from his pocket and tapped it against the lock. "Alohomora!" Something inside the drawer clicked, and this time it slid smoothly open in his hands.

Inside, he saw liners marked with individual years. They seemed almost empty. The first contained a parchment certificate, Gary's birth certificate. Stamped by the Ministry of Magic, his birthday was November 3^rd 1951 and his parents were Joanne and Andrew Heaton. It was beginning to disintegrate at the edges as Dean held it. He slipped it back into its divider. The other folders had occasional letters from the Improper Use of Magic Office, starting from 1955, warning Joanne and Andrew Heaton to be careful with their child in Muggle areas. Apparently, he had done some uncontrolled magic. There were a couple of fines from the office, paid in full judging by the receipts with each letter.

The sound of the door closing made Dean's heart leap into his mouth. He spun around so fast he almost fell over. Seamus was behind him, looking around bemusedly.

"What are you doing in here, mate? What is this place?"

"How did you find me?"

"Neville saw you come in here an hour ago, I wondered where you'd gone. It's almost nine o'clock."

Dean was silent, and then told Seamus about Gary Heaton; the feeling of familiarity he got from the photograph, and the strange feeling of being drawn to finding out more about him.

Seamus eyed him laughingly. "You been lickin' Neville's toad mate?"

"No! I'm telling you, there's something about him..."

Seamus looked around, interested. "So... this room documents his whole life?"

Dean glanced at the bookcases and the filing cabinets... "I guess so... I haven't gotten far yet."

"So, you think he's a relative or something? Aren't you Muggle-born?"

"Yeah... and I don't know... but I'm going to find out."