Harry Potter and the Siren's Song

Hermione pushed her hair back from her face, and looked at him closely. "Are you really sure you want to hear this from me, Harry? Shouldn't you hear this from Lena?" It took him a second to realize that she was referring to Velange. Harry reached over, and took her hands in his.

"You're one of my best friends, Hermione - there's no one else I would rather hear this from." Harry was only slightly startled to realize that he meant this - every word of it.

"All right," Hermione said, and hugged her pillow to her chest. Her expression was very grave as she took a deep breath, clearly steeling herself for what was to come. "It's kind of complicated, actually..."

***

"Remember when Ron told you we saw Snape comforting Velange, just outside the Infirmary on Halloween night? I overheard them talking when we passed them on our way to the kitchens. Ron was talking to Ginny, so they missed it but I heard Snape say 'You have to tell him, Lena - you can't keep punishing yourself because you can't protect him from everything. The boy may be many things, but he's not completely stupid - he's going to figure it out soon enough.' And I heard Velange say, 'How, Severus? How can I ever explain what I did? Or more importantly, what I didn't do? Where I was? Why I wasn't there? He'll never forgive me." And then I heard Snape tell her 'You've never forgiven yourself, so you would naturally remove the possibility of any such action from him. But we are not talking about an ordinary boy.' And something just clicked."

Harry frowned. "That was it? That was the big 'aha!' moment?"

"Not exactly," Hermione answered him wearily. "That was the 'hey, someone's playing naughts and crosses with the truth" moment. The big 'aha!' never really happened...it was more of a 'well, isn't that convenient' moment."

"I'm confused," Harry began, but Hermione cut him off with an impatient wave of her hand.

"Then just listen, all right? After Ginny found that article about Velange and her family, it all made sense. Who else could she be but your godmother? But you and Ron were so dead-set against the idea that I decided to wait and be sure before I told you." Harry suddenly remembered how defensive Hermione had become over the idea that Velange was a Death Eater. "So, I went to her office that night to ask her if she was your godmother."

"Right," Harry said sarcastically. "You just knocked on her door, strolled in, and asked if she was my ruddy godmother."

"No, I knocked on her door, and asked if she was the same Helena Velange that I had read about in the Daily Prophet, the Helena Velange who had been committed after her adopted father Augustus Rookwood had been found guilty of Death Eater activity." Hermione said, looking him straight in the eye. Her voice was unwavering, and Harry found himself picturing the scene in his mind. It sounded like something Hermione would do...

"And?" Harry asked, both dreading and longing to hear the answer.

"Snape interrupted us," she said, a dark look on her face. "She had just invited me in, when he knocked on the door and asked if she was ready to go, that 'the tribes were waiting, and it was probably best not to make them wait.' And then he saw me, and asked me what I thought I was doing, harassing a teacher after hours. I believe his exact words were 'What, Miss Granger, come to beg for extra credit to make sure no other student has a chance at Head Girl?'" Hermione make a disparaging noise under her breath. "Pompous bastard."

"Hermione, is there any way that you could get to the point where Velange told you she was my godmother before I start seventh year?" Harry asked, his patience wearing thin at this point.

"You know, this would go much faster without the constant stream of doubting Thomas questions," Hermione snapped.

"Yeah, well, you have to admit it's a bit odd - Hermione Granger, model student, confronting a professor and charging her with not only being my godmother but waving her dodgy past in her face..."Harry raised both his eyebrows for emphasis. "Or have you been doubling up on course-work again?"

Hermione shot him an annoyed look, before she snatched her wand up off the bed and pointed it right at Harry. "Confutare," she said softly, and he discovered that no matter how much he tried, he was unable to make a sound. "I'm sorry, Harry, but you wanted to know." Harry just glared at her.

Hermione pocketed her wand and then continued. "Anyway, Velange asked Snape to wait for her in the hall. After he left, she asked me to me her outside the teacher's lounge the next night at 8:30. I asked her why I should trust her. She gave me this," Hermione reached into the nightstand beside her bed and fished a leather-bound folder out of its depths. She opened it and handed its contents to Harry without further explanation.

It was a wizard photo. The three girls captured in the photo were smiling and waving up at him, and whispering in one another's ears. One he recognized straight away as his mother; her bright green eyes were all too easily identifiable. The other two girls in the photo also had red hair and green eyes that laughed up at him from nearly identical faces. It was Lauren and Lena Velange, he realized with a shock. The three girls had their arms locked around one another, and were quite clearly the closest of friends. In their identical Gryffindor uniforms, they looked like triplets, right down to their...Harry frowned. Around their necks hung the same pendant - three intertwined circles, held in place by a single blood-red stone. It was unlike any stone he had ever seen before, and for a long tense moment he found himself unable to look away from the unusual necklace glittering around his mother's neck.

He stared at the photo, and then back at Hermione. She looked at him, her face looking strained. "Now do you understand why I couldn't tell you?" she asked softly.

Harry opened his mouth to say "No" before he remembered her silencing spell. He rolled his eyes and gestured at his mouth. Hermione gasped softly, before waving her wand and saying "Finite Incantatum." She bit back a fit of giggles at the outraged look on his face. "Sorry, Harry - I didn't think you'd let me finish otherwise."

"I can't believe you did that," Harry glowered at her. He would have continued but at that moment, Harry was far more interested in hearing about what Velange had said than he was in the fact that his best friend had rendered him momentarily speechless. "What else did she tell you?"

"Well, I met with her, like she asked," Hermione began.

"NO, Hermione!" Harry said fiercely. "I don't want to know about that - I want to know what she said! How did she explain it? How did she rationalize the fact that I had no idea she even existed until this summer?"

"Harry, you have to hear the whole story. Otherwise you'll never understand," Hermione said fervently. "It isn't as easy as you make it sound. She had her reasons, just as Sirius did."

"Sirius was in Azkaban! Where the hell was she?"

"In St. Mungo's." Hermione said quietly. "Locked in her own mind. Then in America. Harry, please, this wasn't easy to listen to and it's even harder to tell you." She swallowed. "I know you're angry with her, Harry, and I know you feel betrayed but this is one of those times when you need to trust me."

"Trust you?" Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. The anger he had suppressed earlier came rushing back. "Hermione, you as good as lied to me! You knew I was trying to find out who she was, knew I had been trying for weeks, and here you had the answer all along!"

"I promised Lena-" Hermione began hotly, but Harry cut her off.

"Professor Velange also made a promise to my parents, and I think it's all too obvious just how much that meant to her!" Harry practically hissed the name at her. "Honestly, Hermione, who's side are you on anyway?"

"This isn't about taking sides!" Hermione shot back. "I cannot believe you're acting this way, Harry. Of all people, I would think you would understand the importance of not jumping to conclusions! Look at Sirius - he couldn't be there for you no matter how much he wanted to! Lena has her reasons - and while she wasn't being held in a jail with Dementors, she was no less a prisoner." They were both on their feet now, and the sound of their raised voices brought Ron flying back into the room.

"What happened to making up?" he asked, looking from one angry red face to the other.

"She LIED to me!" Harry bellowed.

"He's being a stubborn, pig-headed GIT!" Hermione shouted at the same time.

Ron stared at Hermione for a long moment and then said quietly, "Uh, right. Well, let me know when you two decide to break into fisticuffs. Until then, you're on your own."

"Ronald Weasley! I can't believe you're taking his side-" Hermione began hotly, whirling around to face her boyfriend.

"'Mione, I believe you just said this wasn't about taking sides," Ron gingerly pointed out. "And anyway, you're both wrong. Admit it and make up already." With that, Ron closed the door again. A few seconds later, they faintly heard the sounds of his locking charm.

Hermione ran a distracted hand through her hair. "Unbelievable," she muttered.

"Rather unlike him," Harry agreed. Then he frowned. "And when did he become so logical and even-tempered?"

"About the same time you two decided to behave like two-year olds. Now make up already; it's too much pressure for me to act the adult in this lot!" Ron yelled through the door.

Harry would never remember who started laughing first. He just knew once they started, it was really hard to stop. He was distracted a few minutes later, however, when Hermione started to cry.

"Hermione?" Harry stared down at her.

"I'm s-sorry, Harry, but it's been so hard. Knowing, I m-mean. Do you have any idea h-how heartbreaking it was, w-watching you dig through piles of old Daily Prophets, hoping to find her, and knowing? But I couldn't tell you, Harry, I just couldn't." She buried her face in her hands, and her next words were almost impossible to make out between the sobs. "I k-kept hoping you w-would figure it out so I w-wouldn't have to k-keep it from you any m-more. I hated l-lying to you, but Harry, I promised." She raised her head and choked out, "I'm so s-sorry, Harry."

Harry looked down into those wet and slightly red cinnamon eyes, and all of the anger he felt suddenly vanished. This was Hermione, the Hermione who had supported him when everyone thought he'd put his own name into the Goblet of Fire, the Hermione who had spent hours helping him learn to do a Summoning Charm, who had helped him to save Sirius, who had been there for him without question so many times through the years. How could he take his anger out on her, when she'd been keeping her word despite all obstacles as only Hermione would. How could he yell at her for simply being true to her nature - especially when he knew in his heart that the rage he had felt was for someone else entirely?

He looked down at the photo in his hand. The sight of his mother's open, smiling face as she looked at her friends solidified his decision. "You're right, Hermione," he said in a low tone. "I need to hear this from her." He scrambled off the bed, photo still clutched in his hand.

"You're g-going now?" Hermione asked, sounding slightly shocked at this mercurial change in mood.

"It can't wait," he said simply, before he bent over and kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry too, 'Mione. For everything," he said softly. He ruffled her hair with his hand. "Just promise me - no more secrets, ok?"

"Harry, wait, there's something else." Hermione dashed the tears on her face on the back of her hand.

"What, now you're going to tell me that she and my father had a steamy affair?" Harry asked with a grin. "The soap opera plot thickens?"

"Lena doesn't know that Sirius is innocent," Hermione said softly.

"What? Why didn't you tell her?"

"Snape stopped me the next morning outside of Arithmancy and said I couldn't let her know. He said that Dumbledore had forbidden anyone to tell her; her doctor felt that it could cause a relapse."

"And you believed him?" Harry said sardonically. "Look at how he's chatting her up, Hermione! Bringing her tea between classes? He doesn't give a damn about her relapsing, he's just afraid she'll find out Sirius is all right and chuck him in the lake with the giant squid."

A small smile crossed Hermione's features. "You know, for someone you claim to be angry with, you certainly are protective of her."

"Yeah," Harry said, turning to the door, "well, she deserves better than Snape. But then, Moaning Myrtle deserves better than Snape." He knocked on the door and then called, "It's safe, Ron. You can let us out - we promise not to injure ourselves or those around us." He grinned over his shoulder at Hermione as he heard Ron perform the counter-spell and unlock the door. "I'm almost sorry not to be here and witness the fight about to happen over this stunt of his."

Ron stood up as Harry emerged from the room. "Kiss and make up?" he asked, an odd look on his face.

"Yeah, she's packing her things so we can run off together and become traveling groupies for the Harpies," Harry said with a grin. Ron looked stunningly unamused. Harry rolled his eyes. "You were right - and yes, we apologized to each other. You are not sane on the topic of your girlfriend, did you know that? She's no doubt starting to droop at the idea that you two haven't snogged for a good ten minutes. Cut me a break, why don't you?"

"I was just wondering why you didn't come up with a better cover," Ron said without so much as a smile. "You know she hates Quidditch."

Harry snorted, and Ron snickered at his own joke. Hermione poked her head out of her room, looking torn between anxiety and amusement. "Shhh! Honestly, you two - it's almost one in the morning!" As if she had been waiting for a sign that it was safe to rejoin the trio, Ginny appeared at the bottom of the staircase.

Harry stopped laughing the moment he saw her. The reproachful look in her eyes made him feel as though he had just been doused with an especially large bucket of cold water. Beside him, Ron sobered up quickly and said to his sister, "We'll just be leaving the two of you alone, shall we?" With that he reached over for Hermione's hand and pulled her back to her room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

"Subtle," Ginny commented in the ringing silence. "So, I take it the previous frivolity and hijinks means that you've apologized to both my brother and Hermione?" Her voice was unnaturally high-pitched, and Harry could see that her hands were shaking.

"Right in one," Harry said softly, stepping towards her. A moment later, he was holding her, his hands stroking her soft hair while he whispered his apologies in her ear. "I never wanted you to worry," he said. "I just realized where they were going, and knew I had to follow them."

"Oh, Harry - it's not that." Ginny wiped at her eyes, and looked up at him. "It's just that when McGonagall told me that both you and Malfoy were missing, I remembered what you had said about his father being there the night Voldemort rose. And I couldn't help but wonder if he might have hurt you." She gave him a sidelong look. "I never dreamed the two of you might actually be out together, at least not willingly or without the threat of dire pain." She managed a smile. "Or maybe dragons."

"I know, it's a bit much to take in." Harry suddenly remembered what he had left Hermione's room to do, and looked down at the photo still held tightly in his hand. "Almost as much as this," he said, handing the photo to Ginny.

She looked down at it, and then up at him, understanding dawning in her eyes. "I'll see you at breakfast," she whispered, reaching up to brush a kiss across his lips. She handed him back the photo before she hurried off to her dorm, pausing before she left to turn and give him a quick smile. Harry watched her slip through the door before he headed off for his own dorm.

He'd squeaked out of trouble once that night. No need to push it further. Grabbing his Invisibility Cloak from his trunk, he made his way silently down the stairs and through the now completely deserted Common Room, coming to a stop just outside the portrait hole. He pulled the Invisibility Cloak on, and waited.

Fifteen minutes passed, and then twenty. Just as Harry was starting to develop a Charlie-horse in his leg, the portrait hole swung open and a rather disheveled looking Lavender and Seamus snuck in through it. Harry had to fight hard not to laugh; Seamus was sporting a large mark on his neck that was, unmistakably, a hickey. It was a long moment before Harry remembered why he was lurking outside the door, and managed to crawl through the hole and out into the corridor just before the painting swung shut.

Right, Harry thought to himself. Now all I have to do is get to Velange's office without running into Filch. He had prowled the hallways of the school numerous times before in his cloak without incident, but oddly enough, he was especially nervous about it this time.

To his surprise however, the hallways were empty, and he found himself standing at the doorway to Velange's room in a matter of mere minutes. As he stood there, his arm raised to knock, all sorts of questions were flying through his brain. Where was she all those years? Why didn't she tell me who she was? Why is she here? What exactly does she know about Sirius? Why is Snape so protective of her? WHY DID SHE LIE TO ME?? Harry looked down at the picture he clutched in his right hand, and saw his mother's smiling face as she giggled with the Velange sisters, all three girls' faces looking innocent and unworried. The sight of their nearly identical green eyes and laughing faces strengthened his resolve. He knocked, hard.

"In a minute," he heard a female voice say, and then the door opened, revealing a red-eyed Helena Velange. "Harry?" she asked, looking startled. "What on earth? If this is about tonight, it can wait until morning. Do you know what time it is-" her voice trailed off as Harry thrust the photo of his mother into her hand.

"I think we need to talk, Godmother." Harry said in a cold voice.

***

"You've not touched your tea," Velange said. Harry was sitting in a chair beside the fire in her small room, a full cup of the steaming liquid in his hands. He glared at her.

It was far from the scene he had pictured in his mind on the way there. Velange had not blubbered excuses, or cried, or indeed revealed any emotion whatsoever as she had held open the door and invited him to come inside. "I could do with a cup of tea, Harry - would you care to join me?" was all she had said, as she had handed him back the photo. Harry had been too stunned to come up with an argument, and besides, he really could use something hot to drink.

"I need to thank your friend Hermione for keeping her word as long as she did," Velange mused as she settled in the chair across from him. "I half expected you to come bursting in here the night I told her."

"Yeah, well - Hermione keeps her promises," Harry muttered. "Unlike some," he added spitefully, and was pleased to see that Velange had flinched as though he had slapped her.

"You know, I've been rehearsing this speech in my head for over two years, and now that the moment's come, I haven't a clue what to say to you," she mused softly. "Where do I begin? How can I explain and make you understand?" For the first time since he'd knocked on her door, her voice shook.

Harry couldn't explain it, but the sound infuriated him. "Here's a novel concept: you could just tell me the truth," he snapped. And then he started in his chair as the sound of a familiar growl reached his ears. He dropped his mug completely when a large and shaggy black dog poked its head out from the room where Velange lived, and trotted over to his professor's side. "What is he doing here?" Harry asked in amazement.

Velange glanced down at the dog, which had pushed his nose into her hand in an affectionate manner. "Oh, I've been feeding him," she said absently, before she hummed softly and sang the word "Reparo". The shattered mug flew back together, and into Harry's still open hand. "He's not at all what you'd expect, being so large," she continued, as though she had done nothing more amazing then offer him a crisp. "He's surprisingly gentle, so much so that I've been allowing him to stay with me...I hated the thought of him out in the cold with winter approaching." Harry's mouth was still hanging slightly open in surprise. Velange looked at him blandly. "Harry?"

"You, you fixed this - without a wand," he said in a hollow voice, indicating the mug.

"Oh, that." Velange nodded, and tosses Sirius a cookie from the plate at her side. "Yes, well...that's a part of what you want to know, isn't it." She fixed her sharp green eyes on Harry's, and said in an oddly flat tone. "You want to know where I've been, and why I haven't been in your life. You want to know why I kept my identity from you all summer, and why you had no idea you even had a godmother until now." She took a gulp of tea, and Harry winced. His own cup was still noticeably hot from the drink that had been there, and he could only imagine how desperate she had been for a distraction for her to be swallowing the scalding liquid. Velange, however, appeared not to notice. "How am I doing so far?" she asked.

It took Harry a moment to remember what she'd said. "That's a lot of it," he muttered. This was the oddest moment of his life, he decided. He'd pictured facing Velange in a scene that would involve a lot of yelling. Instead, they were mostly just watching one another, while she occasionally tossed another biscuit down to Sirius. Then again, he had never pictured that his godfather would be hunched at Velange's side in his animagus form, his eyes never leaving Harry's face and a warning clearly written in his eyes.

"All right, then. Let's start from the first question: where have I been? No doubt you've seen the article Miss Granger referred to when she came to see me."

"The one that announced you'd been committed to St. Mungo's," Harry said before he could stop himself. Velange nodded. "You can't have been there all this time," Harry said defensively. "So that's not going to work as an excuse."

"I have no excuses, Harry - all I have to give you are the reasons for my absence, and then you can judge for yourself whether or not you chose to allow me in your life."

"I can already tell you the answer to that - and it's no!" Harry snapped. "I have people who care about me, really care about me, looking after me-"

"Oh, of course." Velange looked non-plussed. "I had no idea you were so fond of your aunt and uncle." She raised an eyebrow at him. Harry could think of no answer to this. "Didn't think so," Velange continued. "You stayed with them, Harry, not because no one else wanted you, but because they are your blood relatives. Surely Dumbledore explained this to you - the reason that he had you stay with them in the first place."

Harry shook his head. "Voldemort said something," he mumbled. "The night he came back. He said I was safe as long as I was in my relations' care, that he couldn't touch me while I was with them."

"Ancient magicks, summoned by Dumbledore shortly after your parents were killed," Velange nodded. "He wanted to be sure that Voldemort and his supporters were unable to come back and finish the job. That's why you were placed there, Harry. Hundreds of people wrote in to the Ministry office, offering you a home, but Dumbledore insisted on placing you with Petunia."

"But you didn't," Harry said slowly. "You didn't even check on me."

"No, I didn't." She took a deep breath. "Not because I wouldn't have wanted to, Harry - it was because I didn't know to check on you." She bit her lip before she said in a rush, "I lost everything dear to me in a matter of hours: your mother, James, Sirius, Lauren - all of it."

"Lauren?" Harry asked, confused.

Velange didn't appear to have heard him. "All I wanted was to go back - go back to where we were all safe, to where we were all friends. I wanted to go back to when the world still made sense." Sirius licked at her hand then, and she absently stroked his forehead. "And so I did go back. I went back to our last year at Hogwarts and I stayed there, for five years." She set down her mug, and then got out of her chair to kneel in front of Harry. "I can't begin to make up to you all that you've lost, Harry. But I'd like to try and begin to make it up to you - if you'll let me."

Harry looked into her eyes, and wanted to believe her. It was not unlike looking into his mother's eyes - Lena's were the same bright green as his own. And yet - some of what she said spun through his mind. "I went back to our last year at Hogwarts and I stayed there, for five years." He felt something harden inside, and he got to his feet, nearly stumbling in his anxiousness to get away from her.

"Five years? Wow - that only leaves you with nine to explain." Harry didn't recognize the sound of his own voice - he knew he had never spoken to anyone like this in his life. It was a voice that was so completely devoid of emotion, he thought it might be how a victim of the Dementors would have sounded, had they been able to speak.

Velange didn't move from where she was. "Harry, please - you've got to understand-" He was pleased to hear a real note of panic in her voice now.

"Oh, I understand," Harry spat at her. "You couldn't deal with life, so you left it. You couldn't deal with the thought of actually upholding your promise to my mother, so you left me. Well, bugger the idea of me swallowing that story, Godmother. I chose not to deal with you, or your life, or your excuses and lies! No wonder Dumbledore didn't want me to know who you were! I guess he figured I didn't need any more disappointments." Harry sneered this last bit, all the while wondering where this deep unyielding anger had sprung from. He hadn't been this angry since Malfoy had insulted Cedric on the train ride home last year. Sirius barked, and Harry snapped at him, "Stay here with her, then - see if I care! She left you too, you know!" And with that, Harry stormed from the room.