Reflections from a Stone Wall

Reflections from a Stone Wall

I hate stone walls. They're hard, uncomfortable and extremely chilly.

And I've been perched on one since eight o'clock this morning. Ooo, my back twinges just thinking about the number of hours I've clocked in this spot. A woman of my age should not be subjected to this activity. Fifty-nine years without back problems and now...

Though I do admit that this was my decision, no one ever told me to come to Privet Drive and sit on this stone wall. Of course, Albus could be a tad prompter. If he had come hours ago, my back might have been salvaged. But alas this is not the case and here I sit, in rapt attention, just praying for when he'll show up. I suppose he will arrive when it best suits him or when he deems it appropriate. Merlin knows when that will be. His mind works in mysterious ways. I probably couldn't comprehend his decisions or reasoning for things even if I knew what he was thinking, which I rarely do. Well, it can't be helped, some wizards were just meant to be a cut above the rest of us. I'm no shoddy witch myself and yet these wizards possess powers I can only dream of. It's unfortunate that these powers were also bestowed on some wizards who do not have the presence of mind and kindness Albus possesses. I guess one of those wizards is why I'm spending my entire day becoming acquainted with this stone wall.

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Everything seems to come back to him doesn't it? Everything for last decade has been about him. First it was rumors of dark power rising and gathering forces, then the disappearances began and soon violence was widespread across the wizarding world. Merlin, I remember those years, marked by fear, death and hatred. So many good friends and good people gone in a flash of green light. Everyday in the Daily Prophet there would be news of more deaths and pictures of ransacked houses shining in the eerie glow of the Dark Mark. That sickening skull...uggh, too long has it haunted my nightmares. And now after all these years, could it really be over?

That's the reason I'm really here, to see if the rumors are true. I wanted to believe it when I first heard but I can't. It's too much to try and understand. All of the dead, all of the families torn apart, how can it be over in just one night? He was supposed to be one of the greatest and most powerful wizards who ever lived; even I admit that, it seems so unimaginable that he could just disappear. Wizards across the world have been partying all night and has all day, Dedalus Diggle been setting off shooting stars down in Kent, owls are flying everywhere and yet I can't seem trust it. All this revelry disturbs me, not just because I relish order and look down on rule breaking, but because I feel that we are all in for a severe disappointment. Albus will show up sooner or later and inform me that there is an Order meeting that I'm late for or else I will wake up and realize that I haven't been sitting on this wall all day, my back pain is just imagined and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has attacked someone else. I can't reconcile myself with the implications of him being gone and this hell finally being over.

And even if he is gone...how could he be done in by a baby? It's preposterous. Powerful aurors have been swept aside by him; a baby wouldn't have stood a chance. This baby was no different than any other child and now suddenly he is being hailed as The Boy Who Lived, a hero. I heard them toasting to him all night. 'To Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived!'. He would go down into legend and Halloween would probably be changed to Harry Potter Day, which is if these rumors are accurate. Huh, Harry Potter...

Potter...Oh Merlin! Lily and James! I've tried not to think on what I heard about them. They can't be dead; they're too young to die in such a way. All those people celebrating, the end of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and hailing the new hero, do they even realize that the boy may have to grow up parentless? Alone? Of course any wizarding family would be happy to take him in but Lily and James are such wonderful parents. As devoted to their infant son as they were to each other. I mean are. Wrong use of the past tense. They are still devoted to each other and Harry because they are not dead! they can't be dead! They just can't...

It seems like only yesterday that they were arriving at Hogwarts and the rumors of dark forces were only just beginning. People were still happy and carefree, no one knew of the horror that was to come.

My memories of that time are caught in a little blissful bubble that nothing can pop. I can still see James' walking into the Great Hall chatting animatedly to Sirius and trying to act as though the magic of the hall was old hat to him, always cool, even at age eleven. Lily did nothing to hide her wonder, coming from a Muggle family, she openly gasped at the ceiling and let her eyes go wide at the almost everything she saw. She was so pretty, even then, with her red hair and bright green eyes, it's no wonder James fell in love with her. Well actually, it definitely wasn't love at first sight. Lily's enmity toward James was practically legendary throughout their years at Hogwarts. He gave her an exploding quill, the first day in my class and she didn't seem able to let him live it down, that is until their seventh year. Until then her (and my) enraged shouts of 'POTTER! BLACK!' echoed throughout the school. Potter and Black, leaders of their little band of marauders. I scolded them harshly and deducted many a house point but I had a soft spot for them. Some of their pranks, though destructive, were quite clever and amusing, it was only when they bordered on cruel that I found myself disappointed in my exceptionally bright Gryffindor troublemakers. Those years were wonderful. These memories keep flooding through my mind - Gryffindor winning the Quidditch Cup, Lily and James kissing at the end of their seventh year, their beautiful wedding and so much more. But all I keep hearing over these memories is the little voice of the man in the Leaky Cauldron... "The Potters are dead."

No. I won't believe any of this.

Nothing is true until you hear it from Albus Dumbledore.

That's why I'm waiting for him. To confirm all of my worst fears and most glorious hopes. Sitting here on this cold, unforgiving stone wall observing these Muggles and just waiting for my mind to be put at ease. He'll be here soon. I know it. The sky has darkened and that idiotic, insipid Muggle arrived home hours ago. Practically all of the houses are dark, and not one of those Muggles would be aware of a magical presence if he were to arrive.

POP!

Finally. Merlin, it has been too long.

He shuts all the street lights out and joins me on the wall. Albus, who always has a grip on things, makes small talk with me about the celebrations. I can't let this interfere, I need to know but I must not let him see how desperate I am to know, to understand.

'I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?' I inquire casually

"It certainly seems so..."

Oh. So it's true. It's really over. I...I...

"...lemon drop?"

'A what?'

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is gone, the world I have known for the past decade is crumbling around me and he is offering me lemon drops. THIS IS RIDICULOUS! He persists in making small talk and lecturing me about using V...ol...dem...ort's proper name. My head is spinning, my back hurts, i must know!

'The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?'

I try to read his eyes and find an answer in the misty, blue depths. There is nothing so I push on.

'What they're saying is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are...are...that they're...dead.'

I finally get out what has been haunting my thoughts all day and look at him to ease my mind. His head bows. NO! NO! This can't be happening. Everything I've heard has been true? V...oldemort is gone? The Potters are dead? Little baby Harry defeated the most evil wizard in our history?

And now Harry is going to live with that awful, fat Muggle who kept glaring at me all day? NO!

I can't take this. I am never going to sit on a stone wall again. Never.

Hagrid arrives on a motorcycle with Harry. I snip at him and Albus in an attempt to try and stabilize myself but everything is passing over my head. Hagrid begins to sob next to me as the baby is placed on the doorstep. Such a little bundle; it seems so lonely on the doorstep. Why do these things happen? It's just not fair! I want to go back to those memories where Lily and James were still alive and no one had ever heard of Voldemort. And I want to take that bundle in my arms and take it somewhere where Harry won't be alone. I squint to hold back the emotions that try to flood out of my eyes. Stoicism has always been my best defense mechanism.

Hagrid departs and Albus soon follows.

I'm left alone with the silent bundle and my stone wall.

The emotions break through and I'm crying tears of relief, happiness and grief onto the stones underneath me. I know I can't stay long, so I chance one last glimpse of the bunch of blankets before I finally step away from the stones still wet from tears, that kept me company all through the day.

As I apparate away from the wall, I mutter 'Sure...to the boy who lived.'