Revelations

Chapter 2: A Visit

It had been two weeks since Harry sent his approval to let Ron and his family visit. It was one of the hardest letters he'd had to write in years, even though it only consisted of, "Yes, that would be lovely." It might be nice, he thought, and it was definitely time to mend old scars.

At the time.

But now, he was seriously having second thoughts. The house looked unlived in, even though he has been here for the whole ten years. A thin layer of dust covered the upper floors and spiders laced webs that nestled in the dark corners. Ron hated spiders. Everything was wood and leather, or glass, which was breakable and able to draw blood, if the children were to knock something down and cut themselves then....

KNOCK

Ron and company.

Dammit.

Could old scars such as theirs even be mended?

Harry straightened his robes, pulled at his hair, and walked ever so slowly to the front door. He turned around just in time to see Hermione jumping up the stairs to her room. He opened his mouth to call for her to come down and stop being so...when he realized he couldn't remember what it was that she was hiding from him in the first place.

He stared at the vacant area upon the stairs for a while, trying to figure out why something so important had escaped his memory.

A second knock snapped his reality back into place and he tensely opened the massive doors.

There was Ron, just like in the pictures.

"HEY! Er...How are you?" The man proceeded to grab Harry by the shoulders and gave him a long hug. Ron tore himself away and stared at the man in front of him. Both were at a loss for words.

Finally, Ron choked up a few syllables. "Let me introduce you. Harry Potter, this is my wife Jenny, and our son Allen. Lora couldn't come because of a head cold, but my mother's taking care of her, and will bring her up for the commencement, you know how my mother is." Ron spoke in a sort of half conscious questioning tone, as if to ask Harry if he still remember Molly.

Harry looked at the three strangers in front of him; the all looked just like they did in the photograph: bright, shiny, and happy all rolled into one.

Harry paused, then managed to stutter out a "Welcome" and "come on in".

Ron came it, and looked around. The house gave off a cold and uninviting groan.

"You know, this place needs a decorator," he laughed and gaped. "That's what Padma Patil is doing now. You remember Padma? Parvati's sister? The ball? Yea, she is doing that now. I saw her a couple of months ago while doing a piece in the States, and apparently she's a big hit. She could definitely help out here. All the Muggles love her. She just bought some fancy car with all the income, a real beauty. Dad and Jenny couldn't get enough of it. You know Dad, hehe, even though we nearly lost our heads in his last car, he's still poking around with them. And Jenny...she just loves cars, that's why we drove here, she wants the kids to experience the Muggle monstrosity...thinks they are just brilliant...yea...Hehe. Ahem." Ron trailed off and turned red. He was tense as well. Harry noticed Ron avoided eye contact and was apparently looking for ways not to look Harry in the face. But every time, as it would inevitably happen, Ron would look up and be taken aback by the eyes of his former best friend.

Harry closed the door and caught the sight of himself in the mirror that hung against the far wall of the parlor. He looked like an older version of himself, except slightly darker, taller and more angular. He face was older than he was, and there was something behind the eyes. The green eyes were darker, more opaque than he remembered. His hair was still in disarray but that was less his fault and more genetics.

He looked like Sirius, dark, brooding, hopeless. He belonged in this castle of horrors.

"Daddy!"

He turned to find Allen climbing the bookcase that sat directly opposite the door. Ron jumped and grabbed Allen off of there before he could get too high. "Sorry."

Harry smiled. It had been a while.

Dinner was Harry's own unusual concoction of various dishes that he had mastered over the years cooking for himself and Hermione, or rather, only himself. Hermione never touched her food. Dinner was simply a formality to her. She would sit and watch Harry eat, and tell him about her day. It worried Harry at first, and he tried to convince her to eat something, but after ten years she didn't seem much less healthy than the day she showed up. Harry stopped worrying and simply concluded that Hermione didn't like his food. But this time, he made a bit of everything, since he had no idea what Ron or his family liked. That morning, Harry had made more food than he had ever made in his life; bread, freshly baked; rolls with butter; chicken; beef; cold cuts; salads; shepherd's pie; meatloaf; minced pie, tarts, pumpkin juice; etc. It could have easily served a small third world country, and when everyone sat down, Harry suddenly realized just how much food there actually was.

Ron's first reaction had been, "Bloody hell, Harry, are you trying to kill us with food?"

The conversation began anxiously; Jenny told Harry how much Ron had talked about him and how nice it was finally to meet him. Harry glanced up at her and smiled. She was quite attractive and definitely sophisticated, but there was a trace of uncertainty in her eyes, as if to question her husband's sanity in bringing their kid to this haunted house and to this madman who looked like he hasn't been outside in the sun for decades. But, then again, who could blame her? Harry felt comfortable to know that Ron was in good hands.

"Yea, me and Ron go way back. Hogwarts Express wasn't it? When we first met?"

"Oh yes, me running around to get a seat. Finding the famous Harry Potter and having him treat me to Galleons worth of chocolate and sugar was not what I had expected."

Laughter filled the room as Ron and Harry went back and forth explaining stories to Jenny, who sat patiently, amused yet confused at the history the two men shared. There were certain stories that you could not explain.

"And remember when we had that secret club, what...Dumbledore's Army? Haaa...scared Fudge out of his rocker."

Harry smiled. Yes he remembers...they were good too, learning spells and hiding out. He distinctly remembers thinking that his mischievous father would have been proud.

"And Hermione..." Harry stopped as the words choke in his throat. The table became cold and whatever laughter there had been before seemed to be sucked out of the room.

Ron became introverted all of a sudden, his eyes suddenly interested in the well being of his peas on the plate. Jenny stared at her husband, then back at Harry. The air in the room threatened to smother all occupants. Suddenly Allen uttered a long wail and snapped the adults back into reality. Harry couldn't remember for the life of him why or when the conversation turned sour.

"Dessert?"