Harry Potter and the Mysterious Stubbardmans

The following day, Ron escorted Harry and Grace over to The Three Broomsticks, where Dori and Hermione were waiting for them.

"Ron, are you sure you don't know what this is all about?" Harry drilled.

"You know I'd tell you if I could, mate, but Hermione would kill me."

"Couldn't you just give us a little hint?" Grace requested.

"NO! Now stop asking me. In a few minutes, you'll find out what Dori and Hermione want," Ron replied angrily.

Harry and Grace continued to follow Ron as he led the way

Hermione and Dori were waiting at a table. Dori looked nervous as she watched Grace approach them.

Harry took the seat opposite Dori; Ron squeezed into the seat between Harry and Hermione; and Grace sat next to her mother.

"So, what's going on? Ron said you two wanted to see us," Harry said.

"Harry, Dori has something to tell you and Grace, and what she's going to say...well, it may come as a shock to both of you," Hermione warned sheepishly.

Harry and Grace looked at each other before they turned toward Dori.

"What now?" Harry asked with a look of dread on his face. He leant forward; his arms lay folded on the table.

"Is it something really bad? Just tell us what it is, so we can deal with it and move on," Grace added.

The other four leaned in as well, making the circle around the table seem more intimate and isolated from the other patrons.

Dori took a deep breath, then taking Grace's hand, revealed her secret. "Grace, do you remember the first time you and I went to visit Uncle Ari at the Leaky Cauldron? You were eleven."

"Yes. Why?" Grace's heart began to beat quickly. She sensed that her mother was about to tell her something terrible.

"Do you remember that dog that we saw? He came up to you and licked your hand. You wanted to take him home because he looked like he had no family. You begged me to take him home with us. You even promised you'd walk him everyday." Dori giggled.

"Yeah, I remember that dog. He was big, black, and very friendly," Grace fondly recalled.

"Yes, well...Grace...that wasn't a dog."

"Okay...then ...what or who was it?" Grace stuttered.

"It was Sirius Black."

Grace gasped; Harry's mouth dropped open and his eyes looked as though they were going to pop out of their sockets and hit his glasses.

"Mum, why are you telling me this, and what does all of this have to do with Harry?"

"Sirius was my godfather," Harry piped up.

"He was also Grace's father," Dori rebounded.

"WHAT? No! That couldn't be. It's not true. You're joking." Grace cried, looking confusedly at her mother. She felt a jolt in her heart. Her gut feeling told her that this was not a joke.

"Grace, please," Dori begged, as she held tightly onto Grace's hand.

Grace struggled to break free from her mother's grasp. She tried to stand up, but Harry grabbed her other arm.

"Grace, I think we both need to hear what your mum has to say." Harry looked directly into Grace's tearing eyes.

Grace looked back at Harry, then to Ron and Hermione, who were offering sympathetic looks. She surrendered to Harry's persistent grip and slowly settled back in her seat. Harry released her arm.

"So, my father was a murderer? You couldn't have told me this in private?" Grace smoldered.

Hermione glanced at Dori indicating that she supported Grace's complaint.

"Grace, he wasn't a murderer. He was innocent. He was wrongly accused. Peter Pettigrew betrayed my parents," Harry explained, quickly glancing over to Dori to gauge her expression. "That's the truth."

"I know," Dori responded, smiling at Harry.

"Wait. How did you know?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Because I was with him that night."

"Huh?" Harry quickly looked over to Hermione and Ron.

"She's telling you the truth, Harry," Hermione affirmed. Producing the old edition of the Quibbler from her bag, Hermione placed the magazine on the table in front of Harry and Grace and opened to the page containing the story. "Does this article look familiar?"

Harry skimmed the first few lines then looked up. "Yeah. Why?"

"Dori and Grace's last name is Stubbardman. Stubby Boardman?" When Hermione sensed that both Harry and Grace were still confused, she clarified the connection. "Dori is Doris Purkiss."

"How do you know that?" Harry challenged.

"While I was in the clerks' office at the Ministry, I saw a file on Aristotle. His last name is Purkiss. He's Dori's brother. At first, I didn't make the connection, then while I was cleaning out my dresser drawers, I came across this magazine."

"Then it was you he was with that night?" Harry looked back at Dori, with an expression of anger. "Why didn't you come forward at his trial? He suffered for twelve years because you didn't tell anyone you were with him that night."

"Professor Dumbledore instructed me not to say anything. I wanted so badly to come forward, but he knew that if I had, I would have put my own life in danger. My father would have disowned me and I would have had nowhere to go."

"So, Professor Dumbledore knew all along that my godfather was innocent?" Harry inquired in a tone of disgust.

"Not at first. The evidence against Sirius was too strong. Besides, I think Dumbledore was suspicious of my story. I think he thought I was saying it because I was in love with Sirius, or that Sirius put me up to it. Love is blind, you know. It can make one do the strangest things. It wasn't until I told him I was pregnant that Dumbledore thought of reconsidering his initial idea, but by then things were becoming so dangerous, his only interest was to protect you and Sirius' child. He sent me away into hiding."

Grace said nothing at first then she looked at her mother. "You could have told me the truth. I wouldn't have judged you." The disappointment in her mother was obvious. "I need some air." She stood up and walked toward the door.

"Harry, go after her," Hermione whispered.

Harry did as Hermione ordered. Grace was standing immediately outside the inn's entrance. Her hands were in the pockets of her sweatshirt. On her face, a remorseful expression had taken shape.

"Grace, are you okay?"

Grace nodded slightly without looking up at Harry.

"I think I understand how you feel."

"Do you?" she challenged, still looking down on the ground.

"Sometimes I wish I had known my father. I mean, I knew who he was, but I never got a chance to know him. You know what I mean?" Harry struggled to explain himself. He continued to watch Grace's expression then nervously swallowed.

"Sometimes I wonder if he and I would have got on well together. Professor Snape was right, you know. He said my dad was pompous and arrogant, and I found that out to be kind of true while Snape was teaching me Occlumency. I saw his thoughts. I saw my dad when he was fifteen. He used to torment Snape." Harry paused to see if Grace was paying attention. "Did you know that my mum hated my dad at first?"

"She did?"

Harry was relieved to hear Grace ask a question. It meant that he was getting through to her. "Oh, yeah." He swallowed. "She thought my dad was all full of himself. She and Snape were best friends and she came to his defence once, while my dad and your dad were picking on him."

"Sirius was a friend of your dad's?"

"Oh, yeah! They were legendary at Hogwarts," Harry bragged gleefully.

Grace smiled half-heartedly. "I wonder if my dad would have liked me."

"Oh, I'm sure he would have."

"He really wasn't a murderer?"

"No. Grace, your dad was a very good man. He was the closest thing that I had to a father, even though he wasn't around for very long. It was my fault that he was killed at the Ministry."

"How could it have been your fault?"

"I should have listened to Hermione, but I didn't. It was a trap. Voldemort caused me to have these dreams that your dad was being tortured. I went to the Ministry to try to rescue him. Ron, Hermione, Luna Lovegood, Ginny and Neville came with me. I endangered their lives as well," Harry confessed. "To this day, I still feel guilty about it."

"Who else knows that my father was innocent? Does the rest of the wizarding world know?"

"I don't really know. Look. You don't have to be ashamed of him, if that's what you're worried about. You're NOT the daughter of a murderer, Grace!"

"They were never married -my parents. You know what that makes me, don't you?" Grace snarled.

"It doesn't make you anything but the child of two people who loved one another very much. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Up until now, I always believed that my father was some great secret agent that died trying to save the wizarding world."

"He was, Grace. He did play a big part in that. He made the ultimate sacrifice, too. Not only did he lose his life, but he also sacrificed his reputation, and he did it to protect you and your mother. If that's not love, then I don't know what is."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Three hours before Hogwarts would close its doors for another summer break, Grace wrote one more letter to George before dragging her trunk down to the Hufflepuff common room.

Michael Corner had stopped by the girls' dormitory to pick up the stuffed teddy bear that the other girls had placed on Megan's bed in honour of her memory. He had waited outside the door as one of Megan's dorm mates retrieved the furry toy.

"Thank you," Michael said, then turned and proceeded down the stairs. The moment was bittersweet. He would be returning to a home whose family had been permanently shattered by the worst kind of loss.

Michael and Grace met one another as they made their way to the main entrance of the school. Grace stopped in the corridor the moment she saw him. The situation was very uncomfortable for Michael, since, only a few weeks before, he had accused Grace of being responsible for killing his sister, and then trying to kill Harry.

Grace decided to take the first step to break the ice and make peace with her fellow classmate. "I'm sorry for what happened to your sister, Michael."

Relieved to hear Grace say this and demonstrate that she had forgiven him for his accusations, he responded, "Grace, the apology is mine. I'm sorry I blamed you for all of those terrible things."

"Well, it's behind us now. I guess the best thing to do is to move on."

"I suppose."

Back in the Gryffindor dormitory, Harry and Ron were busy packing. The thought of walking out of a place that they had called home for over seven years was mind boggling to both of them.

"So this is it," Ron declared, his hands on his hips, looking around the room that seemed as though only yesterday he had walked into, preparing himself for months of studying.

"Yeah, this is it," Harry confirmed, stuffing the last shirt into his trunk and closing it. He turned around and sat down on top of the battered, over-sized carrying case. Looking over to Ron, he said, "I can't believe it's over. I'm going to miss this place."

"We did make some incredible memories here," Ron reminisced.

"I'll say!"

"So, do you think Grace will ever come to grips with who her father was?"

"I don't know. I hope so. It would be sad to think that Sirius' only daughter didn't love him," Harry answered solemnly.

"Well, I guess we'd better take our trunks downstairs. I don't want my last memory to be of Filch nagging me," Ron remarked.

"Yeah, good idea."

The two brought their trunks down to the common room where other students had begun gathering. Ginny was already there, chatting with her fellow classmates. Harry walked up to her and slipped his hand inside hers. She looked at him and smiled. Ron joined the small circle that was forming.

Professor McGonagall entered the room and made a beeline for Harry, Ron, and Ginny. Tears were in her eyes. She had seen students come and go at Hogwarts for many years, but this year seemed to take on a different feel. Perhaps she was experiencing feelings that were left over from the battle of the previous term. Maybe it was the fact that the following autumn would mark her last year teaching, before she would retire and leave Hogwarts for good.

She planned to live with a cousin by the shore and help run a bed and breakfast. For now, though, her sense of grief seemed to stem simply from the fact that three students, whom she had allowed herself to grow very fond of were leaving Hogwarts to begin their lives, and she felt as though she was being left behind.

That's what happens when you get old, she lamented. Young ones grow up and leave you behind, taking for granted all that you have taught them. One day, they, too, will know how it feels to be cast aside and no longer needed.

Professor McGonagall quickly pushed the tormenting thoughts out of her mind and rushed over to the trio that she had come to know and love.

"I'm going to miss all of you," she said with a quiver in her voice. "But I am confident that you will all do well and make your mark in this world." She turned to Harry and Ron specifically and added, "The Department of Magical Law Enforcement don't know yet how lucky they are to be getting such fine apprentices as the two of you, but soon they'll see. And Ginny, I'm certain you'll go down in history as the wizarding world's greatest female Quidditch player."

At that point, Mr. Filch and some elves began loading up the trunks as the students started piling out of Gryffindor Tower and into the hallways and moving stairways. Harry suddenly had a thought pop into his head.

"Ron, Ginny, you go ahead. I'll meet you at Hogsmeade. I need to talk to someone before I leave."

"Who?" Ron crinkled his forehead.

"Never mind, just go ahead. I won't be long." Harry bolted ahead of them down the stairs and toward the headmaster's chambers.

He reached the familiar, ornate doors that opened to the heart of Hogwarts. Harry recited the password to the Gargoyle; it only took a moment before the doors began opening. On the other side stood the man that Harry had been at odds with for the past ten months.

The young wizard realized the great sacrifices endured, many risks taken, and tremendous criticism suffered by Titus Sigmund Candelier to protect The Boy Who Lived. He didn't want to leave Hogwarts without expressing his gratitude. Professor Dumbledore would have expected this gesture of respect from him.

"Harry, what brings you this way? I figured you, Ron, and Ginny would be long gone by now."

"Headmaster Candelier, I just wanted to let you know that I appreciate all that you have done for me this year. I know at times I seemed ungrateful."

"I suppose having to wash so many dishes might have had something to do with it," the headmaster joked.

"Well, not really." Harry chuckled. "I just came by to say thank you."

"Harry, do you have a little time? I was just about to pour myself a drink. Would you have one with me before you go?"

"Er... okay." Harry stepped inside the chamber and followed Headmaster Candelier to the little table in the corner of the room.

"I know you thought I was a bit harsh on you this year, Harry, but I hope you understand that it was for your own protection." Headmaster Candelier took out two glasses and placed them on the table.

"Sir, I understand why you did it," Harry assured.

"Yes, I was concerned about what would have happened to me and my family had anything happened to you, but I truly did worry for your well-being. You're a fine young man - a great wizard for your age. You overcame some great obstacles. Your parents would be so proud of you." He pulled out a bottle that Harry recognized as being pumpkin juice.

Harry smiled and chuckled a little as he watched the Headmaster pour the luscious drink into each glass, then sat down to join him. "Where did you get the pumpkin juice, sir?"

"I snuck it out of the kitchens when Mr. Filch wasn't looking."

"You, sir, snuck pumpkin juice!" Harry teased.

"A trick I learned from some dear old friends named Black and Potter." The headmaster smiled fiendishly.

There was a pause and stillness, as student and headmaster studied one another's face. Then the older man broke the silence.

"So many things happened this year. So much excitement occurred in my first year as headmaster. I wasn't sure if I was going to make it," he confided.

"But you did, sir."

"Yes, I did. As I recall, you were so concerned that you weren't going to have very many memories to take with you when you finally left Hogwarts."

"I know. I remember saying that to you the night of our first meeting. It didn't go very well."

"No, for a moment, it looked as though we were going to have a real go at one another," Headmaster Candelier chuckled.

"But in the end, I think things turned out all right for both of us."

"Yes. I'm still headmaster, and you're still alive."

Both Harry and Headmaster Candelier laughed hardily at the Headmaster's dig.

"I guess the only question that remains is: did you collect enough memories to last a lifetime?"

Harry paused momentarily. He thought awhile about the answer he was going to give, and then a smile formed on his face. "Yeah, I did."

"Well then," Headmaster Candelier boldly toasted, raising his glass of pumpkin juice, "to lifetime-lasting memories."

Harry lifted his glass and tapped it gently against the headmaster's. "To lifetime -lasting memories."

The End