Secrets from the Future

SECRETS FROM THE FUTURE

BY Petronilla

Chapter 2. FEARING THE FUTURE

Harry felt lighter, as though he was lying on a cloud, surrounded by a shining light; his heart was filled with joy and endless peace, without pain, without fear. Suddenly, his parents' faces appeared in front of him.

His mother Lily was beautiful, as always. Her long copper hair fell over her shoulders and her clear green eyes stared at him sweetly. His father James had ruffled black hair, exactly like his own, and he was smiling at him.

"Mum, Dad!" called Harry, stretching out a hand toward them. He felt at home and didn't want anything other than to stay there with his parents always. Strangely, Lily and James were still staring at their son smiling, but not moving closer.

A sudden anxiety and deep loneliness caught Harry. "Mum! I want to stay here with you! Don't leave me alone! Dad, please, don't go away!"

Lily and James took each others' hands and their image started to fade away, surrounded by a cloud of fog. Harry felt an irreplaceable emptiness in his heart and he could not understand why his parents were abandoning him once again.

"Mum, Dad!" he shouted desperately, but Lily and James were already gone.

"Harry! HARRY!" Someone was calling him insistently. He made an effort to open his eyes even though his eyelids seemed too heavy.

"Mum is that you? Mum!" Harry called, panting.

"Harry! You're safe now. Don't be scared, I'm with you!" These words, whispered by a sweet female voice, had a relaxing effect on him. He started to calm down and his breathing returned to normal.

When Harry finally managed to open his eyes, he raised a hand to his face, protecting himself from the feeble light in the room that seemed blinding to him. He looked between his fingers but he didn't recognize the room. From what he could see without his glasses, the furniture was made of dark wood. Through the window, the gentle light of the evening filtered in. The walls seemed to be completely covered with books that reached to the ceiling. On top of the wardrobe sat Hedwig's cage.

"W-where am I?" asked Harry timidly without lowering his hands from his face.

"Everything's all right! I've brought you home!" whispered the girl. Harry's heart jumped in surprise. Moving his hands from his face, he turned toward the person who had just spoken. He smiled at her happily, finally feeling safe.

"Hermione! It's really you? But how..." Harry's question was cut off when she hugged him tightly. Her soft, bushy hair wrapped around his face.

"Oh Harry! I'm so happy you're here! I still can't believe it!"

Harry still felt confused, but his girlfriend's warm embrace slowly reassured him. Even though he couldn't clearly remember what had happened after his fight with Dudley, in his heart he knew that his parents had always watched over him.

Before moving away, Hermione gave him a peck on the cheek and Harry blushed. She then handed him his glasses and he put them on, without getting up from the bed.

Both stared at each other for a few seconds as a weird silence fell between them. Even if it seemed silly, in that particular moment Harry was feeling extremely embarrassed. It was probably because almost one month away from each other had managed to draw them apart more than expected. Hermione looked the same, her bushy hair was falling on her shoulders, her shining brown eyes were deeply excited and happy to be there with him. She was wearing a nice turquoise shirt with long sleeves and a pair of blue jeans.

Harry coughed nervously before speaking. "H-how did I manage to get here? I don't remember."

"Oh, you won't believe it, everything happened so fast! We've barely had time to organize ourselves! This morning, I received an urgent owl from Dumbledore asking me to go to Privet Drive as soon as possible and take you away from there. Even though the message didn't give much of an explanation, I knew that something dangerous had just happened. I dragged Dad to the car and we rushed to get you!" Hermione stopped for a second to regain her breath as Harry propped himself up with his elbows on the pillow and got seated to listen more carefully.

"When we got there, we found everybody out in the streets, still scared by the earthquake. They said that nothing similar had ever happened in the past. It was clear to me that you and the earthquake were somehow... related!"

Harry tightened his fists on the bed sheets recalling Dudley's taunting. "If that idiot of a cousin had just kept his mouth shut! He was insulting my parents and I totally lost control!"

"I can imagine," replied Hermione, squeezing his hand with affection. "But I think you should make a stronger effort to control your temper in the future! Didn't you realize what was going to happen? Mastering the elements is a huge responsibility!" she finished, hoping that Harry would understand she was trying to help him; on the contrary, she made him even angrier.

"Easy for you to say! I swear, with my aunt and uncle it is really difficult to keep control!"

"I know, Harry, I know!"

"How could you know? You haven't had to live with them for sixteen years!" continued Harry, starting to lose his temper.

"Merlin's beard, Harry! Why do you still jump down my throat each time I try to help you?" shouted Hermione, exasperated.

In reply, Harry just withdrew his hand from Hermione's and turned his stare in the opposite direction. He knew perfectly well that she was right, but he was sure that anybody would have reacted the same way if put in the same position.

"Hermione?" Mrs. Granger's voice coming from downstairs brought an end to their conversation. "Could you please come here for a moment?"

Hermione slowly drew back her hand, not knowing how to get Harry's attention. "It's Mum. I need to go and help her with dinner. Your trunk is by your bed and your wand is on your bed table. Hedwig is out delivering a message to Dumbledore. I'll call you when dinner is ready, all right?" she said shyly. Harry replied only with a grunt and folded his arms across his chest without turning to look at her.

Slightly wounded, Hermione lowered her gaze and then stood up and slowly left the room, closing the door behind her.

Once alone, Harry thought over what had just happened. I shouldn't have treated Hermione like that, he said to himself, feeling deeply betrayed by his own behavior. She's just trying to help!

Harry sighed deeply before standing up, then slowly moved to the mirror by the window and nervously ran his fingers through his hair. He then went over to his trunk and rummaged through it until he found an almost-decent T-shirt to wear. He took his wand from the bed table and slipped it into his jeans' pocket.

Harry wondered what Hermione's parents were going to think about him: their only daughter's boyfriend who ended up in their house, uninvited, for who knows what weird reason. He looked out the window; the sun had just set behind the hill. Harry had never been to Hermione's before; he had always seen the Grangers only briefly, at King's Cross Station or at Diagon Alley.

He felt an awkward pain in his stomach. What were they going to talk about during dinner? What was the right way to behave in that situation? And what if Mr. and Mrs. Granger didn't like him? What if they asked him to leave their house? Harry couldn't blame them, after all. If they knew only half of what usually happened to him and Hermione during their school year, surely they would send him out of their house immediately.

"Harry, dinner's ready!"

Hermione's voice brought him back to reality. Unfortunately, he couldn't do anything more than gather all his courage and face the Grangers once and for all. He gave a last glance at the mirror before quickly leaving the room.

***O***

"So, Harry! Are you feeling better now? When we got to your place, you looked more dead than alive!" started Mr. Granger, ending the sentence with a cheerful laugh, trying to make the incident seem less dramatic.

The dining room was comfortable, furnished with antique wood furniture, just like the rest of the house. Another thing he noticed was the huge number of books stacked on tall bookcases that lined the walls. The four table companions were sitting at an elegantly arranged table; Mrs. Granger had just brought out a delicious turkey stew with grilled vegetables and baked potatoes. Unfortunately, Harry hadn't had a chance to take a bite before Mr. Granger's question had stopped him with his fork in midair.

Harry lowered his fork and nervously stared at Hermione's father, who was sitting directly in front of him. He was a tall, slim man with short grizzled hair and blue eyes which were looking at Harry with deep curiosity.

Luckily, Hermione intervened in the conversation. "Come on, Dad! Harry is really tired, and I'm sure that you don't want to start with your usual barrage of questions, do you?"

"What barrage of questions?" asked Mr. Granger, surprised.

"Karl, honey! Hermione is right! I'm sure that Harry just wants to finish his dinner and go to bed. Am I right?" Mrs. Granger smiled sweetly with an expression on her face similar to her daughter's. Her eyes were also similar to Hermione's, as was as the bushy brown hair she kept pulled up with a shiny blue clip.

Harry nodded quickly and filled his mouth with a piece of stew. Undeterred, Mr. Granger resumed with his questions.

"I swear, I'm only going to ask a few usual questions like, for example, how's school going? And, what are your plans for the future?"

Again, Harry felt all of the attention on him. He swallowed with difficulty, almost choking on his mouthful. After a good gulp of lemonade, he tried to reply. He was sure he couldn't tell them that his plan for the future was to become an Auror and fight Lord Voldemort!

"Well, actually, I haven't made any plans. Not yet, I mean!" Harry stared significantly at Hermione, who was sitting on his right. She quickly tried to save the situation.

"At school, Harry is the best in Defense Against the Dark Arts! He's first in our class, didn't I tell you?"

"Really? We thought you were first in your class!" replied Mr. Granger, slightly disappointed.

"Honestly, Hermione is the best! Mine was just luck!" said Harry, smiling nervously and immediately filling his mouth with another gulp of lemonade.

"I heard that Little Whinging won a prize recently!" said Mrs. Granger, trying to change the subject. "The most green lawns, if I remember correctly. I bet that your relatives take particularly good care of their own lawn!"

"Yes, you're right!" Harry wanted to add that his aunt and uncle cared more about their lawn than their only nephew, but he thought it better to keep that comment to himself.

Throughout the rest of dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Granger avoided asking any more questions about Harry and just talked about their work day at the dental office. Harry's stomach was definitely full, but he finished his meal anyway, so as to not disappoint Hermione's parents.

For dessert, they had some very good ice cream. When dinner was finally over, Hermione stood up and gathered the dirty dishes.

"Did you like the stew, Harry?" she asked, smiling.

The boy nodded and then turned to Mrs. Granger. "It was excellent!"

"Oh, thank you, but I don't deserve your compliments. Our dear Hermione cooked tonight! Karl and I had been busy until late, and the only thing I had time to prepare was the vegetables!"

Harry turned to Hermione, surprised. "You know how to cook?"

"Well, actually, I just realized that there isn't much difference between making dinner and preparing a magical potion. You just need to follow the instructions, that's all!" Hermione winked at Harry as she set the plates into a small stack. She then addressed her parents. "Mum, Dad, why don't you go into the living room and relax, while Harry and I clean the kitchen?"

"Thank you, dear!" replied Mrs. Granger, planting a huge kiss on her daughter's forehead.

"Now Harry, I'm sure I can trust you to behave like a gentleman with my only daughter here!" Mr. Granger "warned" Harry, staring at him intently.

"Oh for Heaven's sake, Karl! Are you being jealous about your defenseless little baby girl?" retorted Mrs. Granger as she dragged her husband away by the arm.

Mr. Granger protested but his words arrived indistinctly from the other room.

Finally alone, Harry and Hermione smiled at each other.

"They're nice!" said Harry, starting to relax.

"They're the best parents in the world!" Hermione confirmed.

Once in the kitchen, Hermione rolled up her sleeves and started cleaning the dishes, as Harry helped dry them with a towel.

An awkward silence fell between the two of them and the odd feeling of nervousness and being embarrassed rose again in Harry's heart. He wondered how long he should stay with the Grangers and when he was going to hear any news from Dumbledore. Maybe Hermione knew something more.

"Have you..." started Harry, then he paused, to find the right words, but Hermione cut him off abruptly.

"I know what you're going to ask. And the answer is no. Well, not yet!" replied Hermione, without turning to look at him. "Actually, I'm sure they suspect something already, but it is a bit difficult to talk about something like that with your parents!" said Hermione, all in one breath, blushing slightly.

Harry was surprised by her answer. He wanted to ask, "Have you asked Dumbledore if we're going to Grimmauld Place soon?" Surely Hermione was talking about something else.

"About all I've told Mum is that we've become closer friends in the last few months. But they don't know yet that we're going out together!" she added, nervously.

"I understand..." Harry had just realized what Hermione was talking about, and he honestly didn't know if he should feel offended or reassured by her explanation. "Maybe it's stupid, but I felt so nervous tonight! I didn't want to make a bad impression with your parents!" explained Harry as he put the dishes in the cupboard.

"Oh, don't be silly! Everything's gone perfectly!" Hermione reassured him, laughing amusedly at Harry's comment. "Why don't we go upstairs? I'll show you my bedroom!"

***O***

Hermione's bedroom was an exact copy of the dormitories at Hogwarts, the same canopy bed with Crookshanks sleeping on top of it, the same curtains on the windows embroidered with the Gryffindor coat of arms, even the same furniture, ancient and worm-holed. The only difference was that bookshelves with thousands of books covered the walls up to the ceiling.

Entering the room, Harry couldn't do anything other than express what was in his mind. "Wow, how many books do you have?"

"Actually, the truth is that both of my parents loved to read when they were young. When they got married, they combined all of their books. The result now is that all of the walls of our house are completely covered by bookcases!"

"And have you read all of them?" asked Harry, curious, running his finger along the first shelf on his right, labeled "MAGICAL PLANTS AND SIMILAR, A - K."

"Well, almost! I only missed a couple," replied Hermione with false modesty, reaching her bed and sitting gracefully. Absentmindedly, she started brushing Crookshanks' furry neck and the fat orange cat turned to her, purring.

"I feel like I'm at Hogwarts here!" commented Harry, smiling.

"Since I returned home last month, I've done my best to transform my room into what you see now. Since next year will be our last one, I just wanted my room to remind me as much as possible of our years at school. I've used a bit of magic, of course!"

"Lucky you!" affirmed Harry, sitting by her side.

Suddenly, Crookshanks jumped toward him and landed on top of his knees, curling himself up.

"Hello Crookshanks!" Harry scratched his head and he started purring again. "You don't know how much I want to finally be able to use magic as much as I want, without always having the Ministry chasing after me!"

"Come on, Harry! It's your birthday soon! There isn't too long to wait, I guess."

Hermione was right; on July 31, Harry would turn seventeen, and he would finally become a legal adult. This thought made him think over the situation.

"Isn't that strange? After all that happened this morning at Privet Drive, the Ministry hasn't sent me any official owls!" Naturally, Harry was referring to the Ministry Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, but Hermione didn't seem concerned about it.

"You weren't using magic! Mastering the elements is one of your natural powers, an ability that you've carried with you since you were born. Technically, you haven't broken any Ministry laws!"

Harry thought about it for a second and then realized that Hermione was right. He felt uplifted by this, as if until that moment, the specter of having again infringed upon the laws of the magical world had unconsciously weighed upon his heart.

He looked around and realized that he had found himself alone with Hermione in her bedroom. This thought caused an awkward feeling in his stomach; his hands started to become sweaty, and he rubbed them against his jeans to dry them. Suddenly, it felt as though all the air had gone missing, and Harry forced himself to look anywhere except in Hermione's direction.

Maybe she was expecting him to hold her hand or to kiss her. Harry wondered why those two simple actions seemed as difficult as a school exam. Nevertheless, she was still the same Hermione as always; nothing had changed between them since their farewell at the train station a few weeks ago.

Harry desperately thought about something to say to put an end to the embarrassing silence. "Have you... have you heard news from Ron?" he spoke with slight trembling voice.

"A few days ago. He sent me a short letter saying that he and Luna were fine."

"Do you think that he should know that I'm staying with you?" he asked, uncertain.

"It isn't a good idea," answered Hermione seriously. "Our mail could easily be intercepted and fall into wrong hands. It's best we not advertise your presence here too much."

"Yeah, you're right." The last thing Harry wanted was to put Hermione and her parents in danger.

"Besides, I'm sure Mrs. Weasley already told him. Don't worry!"

Again, silence fell between them. Harry raised his gaze and stared at a few Muggle pictures on the bed table. Some of them were out of focus, and they were mostly of little Hermione with her parents, smiling happily at one another. A twinge of envy invaded Harry's heart.

"Nice pictures!"

"Oh, nothing special. Look at this!" Hermione indicated one with herself as a little girl sitting on the knees of a woman resembling Mrs. Granger. "It's my Aunt Jane, Mum's sister. I owe her my middle name and my passion for studying. My parents have always been really busy with their jobs, and I spent most of my days with Aunt Jane. Thanks to her, I was able to read and write perfectly by the time I was three!"

"Where is she now?" asked Harry, absentmindedly.

"Unfortunately, she's gone," replied Hermione, lowering her voice. "She left us a few years ago."

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't know..."

"Oh, don't worry, how could you know?" Hermione smiled slightly, and then became serious and lowered her gaze to the floor.

Harry felt so guilty. Instinctively, he stretched out his arm and placed it around her shoulder, moving her closer to him; Hermione rested her head on his chest. In that moment, he felt as if everything between them had returned to the same as before, as if their hearts were again close to each other.

"Do you ever think about the future?" asked Harry. Hermione raised her head to stare directly into his eyes.

"Sometimes, why?"

"I think about it quite often," replied Harry, seriously. "I think about this war and wonder when it's going to end. I wonder if my friends and the ones I care for are going to survive, if we'll still be alive in a year, or in ten, or twenty, but I can't find a good answer. One of my powers is foresight, but I'm terribly afraid to look into the future."

"It's better that we just deal with our present. We're writing our future day by day."

"Are you sure about that?" Harry moved from her and stood up abruptly, causing Crookshanks to fall on the floor. The cat hissed at him menacingly and left the room, deeply offended.

Harry started to pace the room, and then spoke again. "What if our future is already written, what if it's already set! Why should we keep fighting?"

"Please, don't say that!" Hermione stood up also and stopped right in front of him.

"Take the Prophecy, for example! 'Either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives!'"

"The Prophecy doesn't mean anything at all!" said Hermione, moving closer to him and hugging him tenderly. "Our future depends on our present, on the choices that we make today! Everything is yet to be decided, everything!"

Harry hugged her tightly in return, hiding his face in her soft hair. He closed his eyes and smelled her light perfume, a mixture of wild rose and vanilla. Hermione looked so small, so fragile in his strong arms. "I wish it could be true!" he whispered.

"It is true, if you want it to be!" she replied, firmly.

Both remained in the arms of the other, trying to reassure each other. Harry desperately wanted to push back all the doubts and fears he felt in his heart. And he succeeded, as long as he remained at Hermione's side. Unfortunately, he knew perfectly well that during the night, those doubts and fears would come back to haunt again, like dark devilish shadows.

***O***

Once again, Harry was walking through a dark maze of stone walls, holding his lit wand in his right hand. He made several turns until he reached the center of the maze. In front of him, a partially closed iron door appeared.

The door slowly opened and he went inside with great caution; the room was dirty and had a stone floor and walls. He saw a man huddled in a corner of the room. Harry moved closer and suddenly, the man raised his head toward him.

"Mark!" exclaimed Harry, surprised.

Mark looked as if he didn't recognize Harry; he kept staring at Harry with fear, moving as far away as he could, up against the wall behind him. "Nooo! Go away! Don't come any closer! Don't hurt me!" Mark shouted, his eyes widening in fear.

Harry slowly moved closer. "It's me, it's Harry! Mark, take my hand! Come with me!" Harry exhorted, stretching his arm out. As soon as he had lowered his gaze to his hands, Harry shouted in horror. Long skeleton-like fingers stuck out of his sleeves.

Harry drew back, bewildered, still staring at his hands. "It isn't true! It's not me! It's not me!" When he raised his head, he realized in horror that in Mark's place was now Hermione. She was staring at him in disgust, squeezed against the wall, as far away from him as possible.

"Hermione, it's me! PLEASE DON'T BE SCARED!" implored Harry, moving closer, but she covered her face with her hands, crying.

Then, a laugh echoed evilly in Harry's mind, and a cold voice spoke.

"You are my equal! Fight at my side, or die!"

"No! I won't! Do you hear me? I'LL NEVER JOIN YOU, NEVER!"

Shouting desperately, Harry woke up, abruptly sitting up in bed. His forehead and pajamas were damp with sweat and his brain was completely upside-down. He raised a hand to his scar, which was throbbing painfully, and felt that it was hot.

In the darkness of the night, a light in the hallway switched on, and shortly, his door opened, revealing the slim silhouette of Hermione.

"Harry, what's happened?" she whispered, running toward him.

"N-nothing! E-everything all right!" Harry lied, forcing himself to regain control. Hermione switched on a small lamp on his bed table and Harry raised his arm to his face to shield his eyes.

"Was it another of your nightmares?" she asked quietly, handing him his glasses and Harry nodded, not strong enough to speak yet.

As soon as he had lowered his arm to take his glasses, Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, no! Look at your scar!" she exclaimed, raising a hand to brush it. Suddenly, Harry grabbed her wrist just before she was able to touch his forehead.

Both of them stared into each other's eyes. Harry had a look on his face the same as a wounded animal and Hermione couldn't understand his sudden reaction.

"Harry? Hermione? Is everything all right?" The alarmed voice of Mr. Granger made them jump in their places.

Harry dropped her wrist and Hermione quickly withdrew her arm. "Yes, Dad.

E-everything is all right! It was just a bad nightmare, don't worry!" she replied with a trembling voice.

Mrs. Granger also peeped in from the hallway, staring at the two worriedly. "Are you sure that Harry wouldn't like some chamomile tea or something else to help calm him?"

"Thanks Mrs. Granger, but I'm fine. Seriously!" replied Harry, forcing himself to smile.

"Mum, Dad, why don't you go back to bed? I'm going shortly, Harry's fine now," insisted Hermione; reluctantly, her parents wished them good night and returned to their bedroom.

Harry sighed deeply and leaned back against the wall, as Hermione sat by his side.

"Do you want to tell me what's happened?" she asked, uncertain.

"It's always the same nightmare!" started Harry, after a few seconds of silence. "It's night and I'm walking along a stone corridor. Then I reach a cell, and inside is Mark. When I move closer to him I... I... I wake up!" he finished, unable to tell her the part where he had the appearance of Voldemort.

"The meaning is clear!" Hermione spoke with her usual know-it-all tone. "This nightmare represents your worries and insecurities. I bet you've had the same nightmare for quite a while!"

"Yeah..." replied Harry, swaying his gaze from her and turning to stare at Hedwig's empty cage on top of the wardrobe. He wondered what Hermione's interpretation could have been if he had told her exactly how the entire nightmare ended.

"Why didn't you tell me before? I thought we weren't going to keep secrets!"

"I didn't want to worry you, OK?" replied Harry, annoyed, still not looking at her.

Hermione softened her voice. "I could've helped you!"

"Are you serious?" asked Harry, raising his voice and turning abruptly to her. "Nobody can help me! Nobody! I've even tried with Occlumency! I've tried to empty my mind before going to sleep, but it's useless!"

Hermione felt deeply sorry for him. She stretched out her arm and squeezed his hand with affection. "I'm with you now. You know that I would do anything for you."

They looked at each other, and Harry felt his resentment melting away. He knew that Hermione would always be there by his side.

"I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to."

"It's all right, don't worry." Hermione smiled sweetly and gently brushed his cheek with her fingers. "It's best if we go back to sleep, or my parents will get worried again."

Finishing her sentence, she slowly moved closer and kissed him on the lips. Harry shuddered all over and felt that odd lurch in his stomach. He closed his eyes and followed his emotions.

"Good night, Harry!" said Hermione, moving away. Harry's mind was upside-down again and he didn't reply. He just sat there, staring at her like an idiot as she reached the door and left the room.

Once alone, he sank back into the bed sheets and hid his face under the pillow, smiling. That kiss had made him forget all of his worries. For the rest of the night, he wasn't able to do anything except think of Hermione. When he finally managed to fall asleep, through the window it was possible to see the first light of the morning.

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