Preternatural

Harry went to his dorm after the big Welcome Feast was over. He was in the same house as Ron, which was what he wanted, but he couldn't help but feel this empty feeling inside of him. It had been there for as long as he could remember, as if it appeared when his parents disappeared. Harry got no sleep that night. Of course he was used to that, having grown up living in the cupboard under the stairs all his life. But he could not help wanting that feeling to go away. He wanted so badly for this to leave him alone, but it wouldn't.

****************************

The mail arrived at breakfast in the morning. Harry was sitting next to Ron when a news paper fell in front of them. Ron just flipped through the pages then focused on eating his eggs. Hermione Granger walked up and sat across from them. Harry, of course, remembered her from the feast the night before.

"Can I look at that please?" she asked sweetly.

"Sure," Ron replied, not even looking up.

Hermione was flipping through the pages when she suddenly stopped and read something. Then she began to scream, "Yes! I don't believe it!"

Ron looked up this time. "What don't you believe?"

"Fredrick McDonalds, the Medium, is coming to Hogwarts. I just read his book. It was fascinating. It is about his contacts with the dead and-"

"Hermione, we don't care," Ron said rudely. "What is a Medium anyway?"

"Can't they speak to the dead?" Harry chimed in, very interested.

"Of course, I think that is why he's coming."

"I want to go. Maybe I can talk to my mum and dad."

"Harry, you can't be serious," Ron said.

"Ron, come with us. It will be a lot of fun. Don't you have anyone dead you want to talk to?" Harry asked him.

"Well, I did have this hamster. His name was Billy. I can barely-"

"Good, it's settled. When is it?"

Hermione looked back down at the paper. "7 o'clock Friday."

***************************************

"This is so dumb, you guys. We are like the only Hogwarts students here," Ron stated, double checking to make sure no one would see them. "I hope Fred and George aren't here. They would never let me hear the end of it if they knew I was at a séance."

"I think that everyone here is old," Harry tried to reassure Ron.

"Hi, it is pretty weird that we are here, you know? I mean, I am not normally the superstitious type, but my aunt passed away suddenly two weeks ago. I loved her dearly." It was a strange woman with long hair. She was slightly younger than the other people there. "I'm sorry. I guess I just blurted it out. My name is Sarah."

"I'm Harry. I guess that's what we are all here for. I mean, you for your aunt and me for my parents. They died when I was one."

"I am so sorry. At least I got to know my aunt"

"It's okay. I know some things about them. I know that I have my mum's eyes but I look a lot like my dad did when he was my age. My mum was one of the best flute players at Hogwarts and my dad played a lot of Quidditch."

"How interesting...."

"You see that man in the white shirt?" She pointed to her left. "He lost his daughter when she got ran over." She looked at the ground.

Just then, a man in a tuxedo appeared and told everybody to gather around the table. Once everyone was around the table, they all linked hands. Hermione could barely contain her enthusiasm to be in the presence of one of her favourite authors. Fredrick McDonalds began to shake violently. He began to speak like a girl.

"Sarah?" he began. The woman who Harry had been talking to then replied,

"A-Aunt Regan? Is that you?"

"It's me. I miss you so much, Sarah."

"I miss you too, Aunt Regan."

The man shook again, and this time he began to speak like a man.

"A man seeks his son."

Harry opened his eyes.

"Harry?"

"Dad!" Harry held back tears.

"You have changed so much. You have your mother's eyes."

"I know, everyone says that."

"Have you been good?"

"Yes."

"I have to go now."

"No! No, I'm not ready yet. Dad?"

The man shook again and his voice was like a little girl. "Daddy?"

"Chantal?" the man in the white shirt replied.

"Daddy, it's me. I love you."

"I love you too," he said, though he was rather not emotional.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No, sweetie. How could I be mad at someone who doesn't exist?!" The man flicked his wand and all of the lights came on.

"Who disturbs the circle?" Fredrick asked.

"Give it up. Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, but you all have become victims of a fraud. This man could not speak to my fake daughter as much as he could speak to your dead hamster."

"But that's not true. I heard him. My dad talked to me," Harry replied.

"No. What you heard was a really good actor who said everything you told that woman over there." He pointed at Sarah.

"I-I don't know that man." She looked at him.

"I don't know her either," Fredrick replied.

"Well, you sure know a lot of women who look just like her." He threw a few photos on the table of Fredrick and Sarah. They jumped out of their seats and ran out of the room.

*****************************

Harry was still pretty upset from the night before. He was sitting under a tree with Ron and Hermione.

"I told you guys," Ron would say every five minutes.

"No, you didn't. I didn't even get his autograph. Not that getting it is important now that his career is down the toilet," Hermione added.

"Isn't that the man from last night? The guy who ruined Fredrick McDonald's career?" Harry asked, looking at him. He ran up to the man.

"Hello, my name is Harry. I saw what you did last night. I think it's pretty cool. How else are we supposed to know who is real and who isn't?"

"Little boy, there are no real Mediums. No one can speak to non-ghosts once someone is dead."

"But how would you know? Surely someone can."

"I would know because I am a Medium," the man practically yelled.

"But you just said-"

"I was a Medium until my wife Carroll died. I went to many Mediums and not one of them could come up with her name. Now I go around exposing all the frauds. I don't want other people to be fooled and think they are actually talking to their dead relatives." Harry was still very confused.

"You just said they don't exist and now you're saying they are real. How am I supposed to believe you? I don't believe you."

"Kid, I don't care if you believe me. Who in their right mind would want to talk to the dead?"

"I would," Harry said. "I would give anything to be able to even get a glimpse of my parents."

The man began to show sympathy on Harry. "Do you have an item that belongs to one of them?"

Harry thought about this for a minute. "Follow me."

Harry went to the Hogwarts Band room. He found the Conductor, and asked him if he could get a particular Flute if they still had it. The Conductor came back a few minutes later with a Flute in his hands. The engraving on the head of the Flute said Lily.

"This was my mother's Flute. She left it here for other Hogwarts Students who couldn't afford their own instrument." Harry recalled what Hagrid had told him when he was telling about Harry's parents.

"Play it."

"I only know a few notes."

"Believe me. Just play something."

"Okay." Harry played a set of four or five notes. He looked down at it. "I don't know where that came from."

"That was hello."

"But...how?"

"Real Mediums don't communicate directly to the dead. They use their power and let the dead communicate with the one who wants to communicate with them."

Harry began to feel closer to his parents the more he played, and soon Harry had a whole five minute song memorised.

"This is amazing. Did my mum write this?"

"She had too have, didn't she?" He smiled at Harry.

"Hey, thanks for today," Harry said right before the man had to leave.

"Hello, Harry, where'd you learn that song?" Hagrid was very interested.

"I don't know. It just came to me. I think it was a song my mum wrote."

"Harry," Hagrid looked at him funny.

"Hagrid, I'm serious. I have never played the flute until today."

"Well if you say so, Harry."

For the first time in a while, Harry felt like his parents were actually there with him. It was one the most comforting experiences of his life.