Full Circle

Chapter 17 - Sacrifice

"Do you really think this is the right place, Harry?" Sirius asked, once they had arrived at the top of the hill.

Harry furrowed his brows. "It has to be, Sirius. We've come too far for this to be wrong." Sighing, he hoisted his knapsack over his right shoulder and continued trudging through the newly sprouted grass. It was almost hard to believe that he and his godfather had been traveling across Great Britain for more than two months. They spent many nights camping in the woods, every few days stopping at a small inn to clean up and sleep in an actual bed. The time the two men experienced together was intense: long hikes in the forest, dinner eaten by the fire, late night conversations. In many ways it was the father-son bonding that Harry so desperately needed in his life at that moment.

Despite the good times, one must remember that this was not a summer backpacking trip. There were several incidents over the course of the fading winter that made Harry want to return to his home at Hogwarts, but when he lay his head down to sleep at night, he was always reminded of why he was out here. The dreams. The delicately interweaved puzzle of Harry's unconscious that he was a convinced would eventually answer all his questions.

The last dream he could clearly remember had been the one he had the night he left Hogwarts. His evenings since them had been fitful, so it was difficult to have another vision - one that could explain the previous three. What was it that connected Harry with Kate? How was it possible that the pain that she felt resonate through his own body? And how exactly did Voldemort fit into this plotline? These inquiries plagued Harry as he waited each night for another piece of the puzzle - a reverie that never came. After a few weeks he became frustrated and decided that he would have to do some research on his own. Over the course several visits to various libraries throughout Great Britain, it was diligent studying that lead Sirius and Harry to this very destination.

From the top of the hill, it was easy to see the large white house. The structure looked shabby and forlorn, tall grass hiding the cobblestone path while leaves and brush climbed upwards along the tired walls. The paint was faded and the house looked deserted. As the two approached, they ran into a wrought iron gate linking together two low stone walls that protected the estate from the outside world. When Harry's eyes fell upon the words etched on a plaque hanging from the gate, he nodded with excitement.

"La Maison du Solare." He turned to his godfather. "This is their house. It has to be!"

Sirius did not know how returning to the house Harry claimed to visit in his dreams was going to help the situation, but his godson was insistent upon it. Before he had a chance to inquire about Harry's next step, the dark haired teen had already flicked the rusty latch and walked onto the property. Quickly slipping in to follow, Sirius asked "Harry, are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, I hate to break it to you, but this place looks pretty abandoned. I'm not sure what you expect to find..."

"Neither do I, honestly." Harry took of his glasses and cleaned them with the edge of his shirt before returning them to his face. "But I might be able to find something here. A hint, a clue - anything."

Sirius just shrugged as he examined some of the worn stone statues poking out from beneath the wild ivy. Harry had explained the details of his dreams to his godfather, but Sirius did not have the faintest idea what to make of it. He had never been one to not take Harry seriously and yet for the first time, he was starting to doubt the boy's mental state. The only thing Sirius knew for sure is that James Potter would have never dragged him to a dilapidated building in the middle of nowhere.

Turning the corner around the side of the house, Harry suddenly met with the more dangerous end of a double barrel shot gun. Instinctively he jumped back, completely confused as to what was going on. The owner of the weapon, who was hardly distinguishable by the tattered fisherman's hat that covered its face, sneered at the intruder.

"And who do you think you are, treading forth on my property?" The voice, though stern, was definitely one of a feminine nature.

"Umm...I..." Harry faltered. "I'm sorry ma'am. I didn't know anybody lived here, honest."

At the realization that her trespasser was only a seventeen year old boy (a young looking one at that), the woman's demeanor softened a little. Putting down her rifle and stepping out from behind a tall bush, Harry took note of her denim overalls, yellow blouse and dirty tennis shoes. Once in full view, she tipped her head sideways and stared at Harry in return.

"Well, now. That just can't be!" she muttered, reaching her hand forward in a gesture that Harry had become very familiar with since his eleventh birthday. He forced himself not to pull away when she softly lifted his bangs to get a better look at his lightning bolt shaped scar.

"Fancy that. The famous Harry Potter is trespassing in my yard. If only my brother Lewis was here. What a kick he would get out of you!"

Harry stood there awkwardly, having no idea how to respond to this stranger.

"Well, I must apologize for threatening you like that; it's just that we've had a great deal of vandalism here in the past. But it's no wonder why you thought no one lived in this run down place. Since me father passed away three years back and my mum moved to London to be with me, rarely anyone ever comes out here. I've just starting showing up on the weekends to clean up the place - pruning and replanting the yard. I was hoping to move back out here in the summer perhaps. Nothing like returning to the peaceful countryside, know what I mean?"

Before Harry could respond, he could hear Sirius' voice grow closer. "Hey, Harry? Where did you go? This place is more difficult to get through than a maze at Triwizard Tournament."

"I'm over-"

"Get the hell out of here!" She screamed, once again raising her shotgun. "I won't hesitate to shoot you!"

Sirius scoffed. "You're hesitating right now."

The woman stared at him for a moment before turning back to Harry. "This mongrel is a friend of yours?"

"Yes ma'am. This is my godfather, Sirius Black."

The only noise that could be heard was the birds twittering in the budding trees.

"Sorry," Sirius replied. "I haven't had a chance to shave in awhile."

The woman's jaw dropped, disbelievingly. "So you're assuming that being an ex-convict is better than being a bum?"

Blood rose into Sirius' face. "Listen, lady! I'll have you know that I was found innocent on all accounts!"

"Don't you "listen" me, buddy. Innocent or not, you did spend twelve years in Azkaban and frankly, the Sirius Black I knew wasn't innocent a day in his spoiled little life."

At the sound of those words, Sirius stopped his tirade and took a moment to examine this woman. Wait a minute, he thought, raising his eyebrows. That voice, those angry blue eyes, and that brilliant sass reserved especially for yours truly...Sirius was frozen dead in his tracks.

In a swift movement, the woman removed that misshapen fisherman's hat off of her head to reveal a short curly mess of blond hair. "Does this look familiar 'Mr. Rarely Sirius'?"

Sirius grumbled and shook his head. "Samantha, your old school puns are hardly worth uttering."

Now it was Harry that was totally confused. "You two know each other?"

Both adults turned to Harry, distinctly different expressions creeping onto their faces. "Oh, yes, Harry. We know each other, alright. We used to be schoolmates together at Hogwarts - Gryffindor Class of 1977."

"May I introduce you to Samantha Malkin, daughter of Madam Abigail Malkin of Malkin's Robes for All Occasions."

At the sound of her name, Harry's ear immediately perked up. "You mean, this is the girl you told me-"

"Yes, well, that's enough of that. I'm sorry we intruded on your property, Miss Malkin, but we really must be going..."

"Actually, the last name is Tribbett now. I married briefly about tens years ago while I was doing research on Erumpents in Africa. We were only together for about two years before he caught Yellow Malaria and died. Nice boy though, really he was."

The two wizards exchanged glances before she continued. "Actually it's not every day that an old school friend wanders into my yard unannounced. You both look pretty tired. Surely, you and Harry wouldn't mind staying for awhile and enjoy some afternoon tea with me. That is...if you forgive me for jumping the gun a few minutes ago."

"No, jumping the gun would be if you actually shot us," Harry laughed.

While Sirius was grabbing Harry's arm in an attempt to drag him away, Harry was graciously accepting Samantha's offer. "Boy, a cup of tea right now sure does sound nice, doesn't it, Sirius?"

He paused for a moment, mentally resisting the offer. Samantha smiled, "I have Earl Grey and fresh baked scones."

Sirius sighed. "Well, I don't see how it could hurt."

Without further ado, Samantha showed them both inside.

Twenty minutes later, the three of them were sitting around the kitchen table enjoying tea, fruit and cookies. Sirius and Samantha made small talk, while Harry's eyes wandered around the familiar kitchen. The wallpaper was a different pattern then he had remembered in his dream and perhaps the curtains were made of a newer fabric, but it was fundamentally the same room.

"So how long has your family lived in this house, Samantha?"

"Harry, you can call me Sam. My family's owned this property since I was a little baby. I think my father purchased it as a foreclosure in 1960."

According to Harry's dream, the last scene had taken place in 1958 on Tom and Katherine's 10^th wedding anniversary. If the house he sat in now and the one he witnessed in his vision were one in the same, the property was sold within two years of that date.

Harry took another nibble of his almond scone. His head was just swirling with thoughts and theories and curiosity was overwhelming him. Quietly he excused himself to use the bathroom, and took this opportunity to briefly explore other rooms within the house. First stop was Tom's office, which apparently had been transformed into a sewing room years before. Harry followed his mental path and made a left into the hallway and followed it down until it emptied into the foyer. To his right was the large wooden staircase spiraling up to the second floor.

Harry hesitated for a moment, running his fingers along the etched mahogany. In the distance he could hear a twinkling of laughter from the kitchen. He took a deep breath and preceded to climb the stairs - again, let for the first time.

She wiped her tears away from her eyes with the back of her hand. Swiftly fastening her black cloak, Kate reached down to pick up her suitcase. The house was dark and silent and her husband was no where to be found. For about thirty minutes after he stormed out, she had laid there on the bed, sobbing in misery. But soon she realized this was her opportunity to leave - to escape the hell her marriage had become. Tossing some additional items into her bag, she regained some of her lost composure and left her family home. It hadn't even been Tom's house - it had been her father's property and his father before him for generations. Now it would lie empty.

With a loud pop, Kate was standing on the doorstep of a rickety little cottage on the edge of the forest. A cool breeze blew as she rapped sharply on the door and held her breath until a tall quirky looking young man answered.

"Artemis! Is your wife here?"

Mr. Figg, who did not seem the slightest bit surprised to see Kate at his doorstep in the middle of night, nodded and invited her inside.

"Bella, dear. Kate Riddle is here to see you," he called upstairs. He asked her to sit down and she willingly obliged. "Can I get you something to drink?"

She felt a tightening in the back of her head as she shook her head no. Arabella appeared at the top of the staircase and quickly descended to arrive at her friend's side. Immediately she could tell from the look on her face that something was wrong.

"Katie, what happened?"

Kate could do nothing but bury her head into her companion's shoulder. "I can't go back there. Never again," she whimpered.

Harry closed his eyes in defeat and sat down on the couch next to her. He knew in his heart that none of this was real, at least not in current time, yet he could not help but feel a surge of pain clasping firmly around his own heart. Harry knew what it felt to have your whole world devastated at the hands of Tom Marvalo Riddle.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself sitting in the corner of a bedroom that looked very much like room he used to sleep in at his aunt and uncle's house on 4 Privet Drive. Rain pelted heavily on the window pane and Harry recognized the woman standing beside it, staring out into the empty backyard and fingering the woven fabric of the curtains. A twenty-eight year old Minerva McGonagall turned her face at the sound of muffled moaning coming from behind the drapes of the four poster bed.

"Is she ok, Arabella?"

The other witch glanced back from her position at the end of the bed, her frizzy brown hair falling haphazardly from its bun. "She's as good as she can be, considering the situation." Harry heard another groan and even in his young age, he could begin to grasp what was occurring.

Arabella whispered a few comforting words to her patient and gave her some melting ice to suck on. "You still have a couple more hours yet, dear. I'm afraid this new addition won't be making it to tonight's supper table," she laughed softly. Harry stood up and walked over to the bed so he could dare to get a better look. Lying underneath the canopy, with her blond ringlets matted to her head with sweat, was a highly distressed and very pregnant Katherine Riddle.

He jumped back a bit, startled, and looked up to see Arabella and Minerva exiting the bedroom. Quickly he followed and once again became an invisible bystander to a private conversation.

"So will you do it, Minerva?"

The dark haired witch sighed. "Arabella, to perform such a spell on a sacred document would certainly be considered a breach of proper usage by the Ministry! Frankly, I'm appalled that she won't even tell her uncle about the situation. I mean, she is a married woman, for Merlin's sake. She has nothing to be ashamed of."

"Minnie! Having the child's name erased from The Golden Book of Magical Children would not be done to keep Professor Dumbledore in the dark about his niece's baby. It would be done to protect the child from being discovered by its father! After all the years of grief he gave Katie for not being able to bear a child - and all the abuse she suffered because of it - I just don't trust that man. Merlin only knows what would happen if Tom Riddle found out he had finally produced an heir."

"I understand the severity of the situation. I was the one who helped you find a place here in this Muggle town, so she could hide until the baby was born. I also researched the Fidelius Charm needed to protect the house. I am fully aware that he threatened you in the Leaky Cauldron a few months back, inquiring to Kate's whereabouts. This situation is very dangerous - I'll be the first one to admit - but to erase the child's name from the book? I just don't think that's right, even if it is to protect the baby's identity."

"But Professor Dumbledore has put you in charge of the book and all the responsibilities it possesses. No one will ever have to know, but you and me."

The three of them heard a cry rise from the next room. "From the sound of that, Minerva, you don't have much time left to decide." Arabella glanced up at her friend with a look of desperation. "Please, Minerva. Do what's best for this child."

After Arabella had returned to the bedroom, Minerva whispered "For its own sake, I hope this child never sees the light of dawn. But if for some reason it does..." And at that instant, Harry knew Professor McGonagall had made up her mind.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he reached out and turned the brass doorknob and opened the bedroom door. Harry was shocked to see the setting had changed again and this time the tiny room was filled with sunshine. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he heard a low soft hum of a lullaby.

Sitting in a rocking chair in the corner, Kate sat wrapped in a cozy bathrobe and cradling an infant in her arms. The dark circles under her eyes were evidence of sleepless nights, and yet they glittered as she smiled down at her newly born baby. The child, swathed in a blanket, cooed as it stared into its mother's face with its big green eyes. My eyes, she thought.

"I know now why I received that necklace on my wedding day," Kate spoke into the emptiness of the room. "It had not been a family heirloom passed down from my grandmother - it was a source of protection from my Uncle Albus. He knew no words he spoke would stop me from marrying Tom. I was young and in love...little can stand in the way of that. Yet my uncle had a promise to keep to my deceased father - to never let harm come to me. And Uncle Albus, in his intuitive way, knew that deep within Tom Riddle was a soul that was just not right. So he charmed that necklace to bring infertility to whoever wore it. Tens years came and passed, and neither me nor my husband was ever the wiser until the night he tore it from my neck in an angry rage. The night you, my beautiful daughter, were created."

"I fled that night and for months kept us hidden. Once I knew that within me I carried a child, one that I had spent so many years wishing for, I began to deal with the fact that I could never return to my husband's house or reveal this news to too many people. Of course, I was living with Arabella and her husband at the time, so they were immediately aware of the situation. It was Arabella who called Minerva in for reinforcements when it became obvious I was going to have to go into hiding. But besides these three people, I never breathed a word to a single soul."

"I spent all my days and nights trapped in this house, waiting and dreaming for the day I could bring you into this world. But every morning I awoke with a bitter taste in my mouth. There was no reason to be excited about your arrival, knowing that I'd have to spend my entire life trying to protect you from your father. You see, as long as I am missing, he will continue to search for me, to seek revenge on me for leaving him."

Kate sighed and turned her face away. "For the last few weeks, I've held you. I've fed you when you were hungry and cleaned you when you were dirty. But most importantly, I stayed up nights and comforted you when you cried. When we both cried." Carefully, she pulled herself out of the rocking chair and carried her daughter over to the lace covered basinet. "It took me this long to accept the reality that it would be horribly selfish to make you sacrifice a normal life just so we could be together." Kate gently placed the baby down and rearranged the blanket around her to keep her warm.

"Tonight I must find your father and make excuses for my long absence. I must do and say anything I can to erase any glimmer of hope in him that a child might have been created by our last union. Then when our conversation is truly over, I must make the ultimate sacrifice..."

Kate leaned over to kiss her baby softly on the head. "Goodbye, Camilla. Grow up strong and beautiful to make me proud." And with these words, she turned to leave.

Harry was frozen as he began to realize exactly what was happening. He wanted to reach out and stop her, but knew that this was impossible. What was to happen that night had already occurred. There was nothing he could do to change that.

Furious, he stormed down the stairs and out of the house, that looked exactly like the dozens of other house on this boring suburban Muggle street. The house number 11 pick up light from the late afternoon sun and the street sign on the corner read Evergreen Terrace. Why exactly does this road sound familiar?

A few houses down he saw a woman in a frumpy black dress carrying a basket down the street. Arabella, he thought as he quickened his step. He followed her as she labored another two blocks, before stopping in front of a particular house and pulling a letter from her pocket. She put the basket down briefly, opened the envelope and perused the contents. Arabella looked up briefly to confirm the address, folded the letter and returned it to her pocket. After taking a deep breath, she picked up the basket, walked up the lawn and knocked on the front door.

An attractive young woman answered the door with a small girl clinging to her apron strings. Arabella pulled together the brightest smile her weary face could muster and asked, "Hello. Is this the Evans residence?"