Someone Like Me

Kenzie sank down onto the bed in her grandmother's room. She didn't remember actually walking up the stairs, only standing outside with everyone staring at her, willing her feet move. They must have eventually obeyed her, though, because here she was waiting for her grandmother to speak. At the moment, Mrs. Townsen's back was to Kenzie. When she finally turned around, she was holding a stone basin with strange markings around the edges. Mrs. Townsen sighed heavily and put the basin down on the bed in front of Kenzie. Kenzie looked down into it. It was filled with a strange, swirling silvery liquid.

"The first thing you must know, Kenzie, is that we are not here because Arthur asked Dumbledore. Dumbledore ordered Arthur to come talk to me. When he couldn't convince me, Dumbledore came to see me himself," Mrs. Townsen began.

"But why--" Kenzie began. But Mrs. Townsen held up a hand to cut her off.

"Please, just let me talk, dear," Mrs. Townsen said, looking tired. "He wanted us to be here to protect you."

"M-me?" Kenzie said unbelievingly.

"This is a Pensieve. It can explain everything better than I ever could, but first you must understand that I didn't mean to keep any of this from you. I only wanted to protect you," Mrs. Townsen said, looking at Kenzie tenderly.

"Protect me from what, Grandmother?" Kenzie asked with a growing sense of dread, unsure whether she really wanted to know.

"Please, just watch this," Mrs. Townsen said, pointing towards the Pensieve. "Dumbledore lent it to me. Just lean forward a bit - there you are - and -"

Kenzie's nose brushed the surface of the silvery material swirling inside the Pensieve. Immediately, she was pitched forward head first into the basin. She felt herself leave the bed, and suddenly she was falling, falling, falling until finally her feet hit solid ground and the world was right again. She looked around, evaluating her surroundings. She was standing in the middle of an unfamiliar room that had the look of a parlor. It was nighttime. She could tell this because all the curtains were drawn and the room was dimly lit by candles. As she looked around, her eyes fell upon a familiar face - her grandmother. Grateful to see something or someone she recognized, she ran over to her.

"Grandmother, what's going on? I don't under-- Grandmother?" Kenzie said, confused. Kenzie was standing right in front of her grandmother, but Mrs. Townsen was acting as though she couldn't hear her. "Grandmother? Grandmother, this isn't funny. Wait, why did you change robes? Can't you hear me at all?"

It had suddenly dawned on Kenzie that perhaps this was not the present world. At first she had believed the Pensieve would simply transport her somewhere else, perhaps to someone who would explain everything to her. However, now, as she studied her grandmother, she could tell that this was not her grandmother as she knew her today. Her hair was not yet completely grey. It was still slightly brown on the ends. Her eyes did not look quite as tired as they did in the present, and her mouth did not droop as much. No, this was a younger version of the grandmother Kenzie knew and loved. So perhaps this was a memory? Kenzie knew that going back into memories was possible; after all, she was one of the brightest witches in her year. Yes, she decided, this must be a memory of her grandmother's that was going to explain everything. Instantly intrigued, she put her full attention on the scene unfolding before her.

Mrs. Townsen was alternating between pacing the room and standing a few feet away from the door. She kept her eyes on the door at all times, a worried look painted onto her face. Her wand was grasped tightly in her right hand. Suddenly, the door opened and a tall man with brilliantly green eyes and wavy brown hair walked into the room.

"Oh, Oliver, thank goodness," Mrs. Townsen sighed in relief. She went over to her son and pulled him into a tight hug. "I was so afraid something had happened. Are you all right? Where's Suzanne?"

"We're all fine. Suzanne's just bringing in Kenzie, she had to gather up all of her things," Oliver answered, releasing his mother. Just then a pretty woman with long red hair and deep brown eyes walked through the door behind Oliver, carrying a small bundle in her arms and a bag over her shoulder.

"You should have left the bag, love, I could have gotten it," Oliver said, taking the bag from his wife and putting it on a nearby couch.

"Oh, it's fine, I got it. It's not as if it's heavy. You wouldn't let me pack nearly enough," Suzanne answered, glaring at her husband playfully.

"Not enough?" Oliver said, laughing loudly. "We packed nearly her whole room! Why, we had to reduce everything to get it to fit! What more did you want to bring?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe the changing table or the crib, you know how she loves all the toys on it, or perhaps the--" Suzanne listed.

"You brought the bassinet and the mobile. I'm sure she'll be fine," Oliver said, smiling down at his wife.

"Oh, I hope so," Suzanne fretted worriedly.

The three continued to talk about trivial things for a few moments, but Kenzie was having a hard time paying attention. All she could do was watch her parents in awe. She barely remembered her parents, and she wasn't even sure the memories she had were real. Perhaps they were dreams. Still, here they both were, close enough for her to touch, and she couldn't even speak to them. All she could do was watch and listen, marveling at them. Her father, she could see, had been very handsome, and her grandmother was right, she did have his eyes. Her mother was very beautiful, and, Kenzie thought, would have bared a striking resemblance to Harry's mother, Lily, had it not been for the big spiral curls that Suzanne's hair grew into, while Lily's had been straight, like Kenzie's own. As the three adults' conversations turned toward important information again, Kenzie fought to concentrate.

"Suzanne, darling," Oliver started delicately, with the tone of someone who was about to walk into hostile territory, "I really think you should reconsider going into hiding. After all, you can't stand the thought of being without Kenzie, and--"

"No," Suzanne said flatly, cutting Oliver off. "We've been over this. I'm not going into hiding without you. Kenzie will be fine."

"Suzanne, you know I can't--"

"Well then, neither can I," Suzanne said with an air of finality.

Oliver nodded mutely as though accepting her decision, but after a moment during which he appeared to be fighting something inside himself, he burst out, "But really, dear, you're in almost as much danger as she is. After all, you're his relative."

Suzanne stiffened at the last sentence. "I hardy think that makes any difference at all."

"Well, it obviously does," Oliver insisted. "In its own prophecy-nonsense-talk that prophecy says that 'The Key' is Voldemort's second cousin, and since he's your first cousin than that makes Kenzie his second cousin!"

At this Suzanne's eyes brimmed with tears. "It's all because my mother's fool sister went off with that horrid Riddle man! And see what became of her relationship with him? He left her, pregnant and alone, and then she died still too naïve to see how horrible he had been! If it wasn't for her none of this would have ever happened! James and Lily wouldn't have to go into hiding and our baby wouldn't be in any danger at all!" she said, hugging the bundle that was baby Kenzie to her chest.

"I know, dear, I know. But come now, Suzanne, if you insist that you will not go into hiding, then you must give Kenzie to Mum. We need to go before someone sees us here too long. We still haven't performed the charm, you know. They can still see us," Oliver urged gently.

Suzanne only hugged her daughter more tightly to her chest, tears spilling out of her eyes and down her cheeks. "I don't understand any of this, Oliver," she said softly.

"I'm afraid I don't, either," Mrs. Townsen said, looking at Suzanne with pity in her eyes. Kenzie had a nagging feeling that her grandmother understood perfectly, she only wanted to give Suzanne a bit more time with her child.

Oliver sighed. "You know about the prophecy involving the Potter and Longbottom boys, of course?" he explained.

"Yes," Mrs. Townsen answered quickly. "One of them will bring the fall of You-Know-Who, but they don't know which one."

"Exactly," Oliver answered, "but whoever it is, he has a power 'the Dark Lord knows not.' Dumbledore reckons the power is love."

"But, what does that have to do with anything?" Mrs. Townsen asked.

"There's another prophecy," Suzanne whispered, her voice cracked. She, too, it seemed, understood everything better than she let on, "which in essence says that Voldemort's second cousin is 'The Key', the one who will unleash this power."

"So as long as Voldemort doesn't know who 'The One' is, Dumbledore believes he will go after 'The Key'. He does know who 'The Key' is, of course. And obviously without the person who will unleash 'The One's' power to kill Voldemort, his death will never occur. Do you understand?" Oliver finished.

Mrs. Towsen slowly nodded. "And you're sure that it can only be Kenzie?"

Suzanne nodded. "My mother only had one sister, and her sister only had one child - Tom Riddle."

Kenzie suddenly felt a light pressure on her shoulder. "I think that's all you need to see," someone said. Kenzie turned around. The present-day Mrs. Townsen was standing beside her, smiling down on her somewhat sadly.

"No, please, I want to see more," Kenzie said.

"No, the rest is just a very sad goodbye," Mrs. Townsen insisted. "I don't think you want to see it."

"Yes, I d--" Kenzie began, but before she could protest further she felt her feet leave the ground again. A few moments later she was again sitting cross-legged on her grandmother's bed. She didn't realize she'd been crying until a hot tear hit the corner of her mouth. She quickly wiped it away.

"Now do you understand?" her grandmother asked kindly.

"Sort of..." Kenzie said. "But what prophecy were you talking about, 'the one about the Potter and Longbottom boys?'"

"No one was supposed to know about that one," Mrs. Towsen began, "but your mother; Harry's mother, Lily; and the Longbottom boy's mother, Alice, were all very close friends in their school days. As soon as Lily and Alice found out about it they told their friends and their husbands told their friends. You see, just before Harry and Neville were born, there was a prophecy made about 'The One' who would have the power to bring about the fall of You-Know-Who. Now, all it said was that he would be 'born as the seventh month dies to parents who have thrice defied' You-Know-Who. That description fit both Harry and Neville. So, naturally, both of their parents were warned as soon as the boys were born. When You-Know-Who killed the Potters, it wasn't because he was after Lily and James; it was because he was after Harry. You see, he thought the prophecy was about Harry, he didn't realize that it applied to Neville as well. So, he went after Harry. Therefore, Harry became 'The One'. The rest of the prophecy explains that 'The One' has 'power the Dark Lord knows not'. Dumbledore determined that that power was love. Harry's mother's love brought about You-Know-Who's first downfall. The prophecy says that either Harry must kill You-Know-Who or You-Know-Who must kill Harry. Since neither is dead, Dumbledore feels that this power will be drawn on again."

"And I'm 'The Key', the one that will unleash this power for You-Know -- oh, forget it - Voldemort's final defeat? But I had nothing to do with it the first time!" Kenzie said incredulously.

"Yes, and You-Know-Who didn't die the first time, either," Mrs. Townsen sighed.

Kenzie nodded. "Now, Dad said something about hiding. What did he mean?"

"The night that you just saw in the Pensieve was the night that your parents were bringing you to live with me for a while. You and I went into hiding through the use of a charm because your parents and I were afraid that You-Know-Who would come after you. After Harry defeated him, Dumbledore determined it was safe for us to come out of hiding. You stayed with me until you were about eighteen months old. Then, when Dumbledore realized that there were still Death Eaters looking for You-Know-Who and, worse, Death Eaters who knew that you were 'The Key' and might come after you themselves, than he decided it would be best for you to get away for a while. So, I sent you to live with Nancy in America. When you turned eleven, Dumbledore decided that it would be safe for you to come back to England to attend Hogwarts, where he could watch over you himself. Then, when You-Know-Who himself rose again, Dumbledore and I spent a few long weeks making sure you would be safe at home. Now that You-Know-Who is back to full power again, Dumbledore has decided the best place for you, as well as Harry, is here."

"My whole life, I've been guarded? Watched? Like some sort of secret, or treasure, or weapon?" Kenzie said, sounding hurt and extremely surprised.

"We only did it because we love you, darling," Mrs. Townsen assured her, sounding almost as hurt.

Kenzie shook her head and made to say something else, but couldn't bring herself to continue on such a topic. Instead she asked, "But what does any of this have to do with Mum and Dad?"

"That night--" Mrs. Towsen swallowed hard and began again. "That night, when You-Know-Who went after your mother, he was trying to get her to tell him where you were hiding. It was very important to him to find you. Your mother wouldn't tell him, and so he did what he did with all people who were of no use to him: he killed her. When others showed up to help her, he killed them, too."

"Are you saying, that- that it's my fault my parents are dead?" Kenzie whispered.

"Oh, darling, you can't look at it that way," Mrs. Townsen said.

"That's what I thought," Kenzie said softly. This time she was fully aware that she was crying.

***

As soon as Kenzie left her grandmother's room, she went straight down to the room she shared with Ginny and Hermione and locked herself in. She threw herself onto the bed and began sobbing. When Ginny came back upstairs and asked her what was wrong, Kenzie quickly shirked her questions and went down to the kitchen, which she found mercifully empty. A glance at the clock on the mantle told her why. It was half past midnight. The day which had started as the best birthday of her life had ended as the worst. She sat down at the table for a few moments, but couldn't make herself sit still. Instead, she got up and began making tea as an excuse for moving. Just as she hung the kettle over the flames, she was startled by the sudden opening of the door. The open door revealed the one person she didn't want to see her puffy-eyed and red-faced - Harry.

"You couldn't sleep, either?" Harry asked as he came and sat down at the table.

"No, and tonight you didn't even have to wake me up," Kenzie answered.

"I can't figure out what's wrong with me," Harry said tiredly. "I need to sleep, but after tonight, I'm not sure I'll ever sleep again, not for a while at least."

"I don't blame you, I doubt I will, either," Kenzie said, sitting down across from Harry. "Did-- Did you find Hermione?" she asked quietly, afraid to know the answer.

"No," Harry said equally as quiet.

Kenzie's eyes began to tear again. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"For what?" Harry asked, confused.

"That Hermione's gone," she said.

"It's not your fault," Harry assured her.

"Yes, it is," Kenzie whispered. "They were after me. They just got Hermione by mistake."

Harry looked up at her suddenly, a startled look on his face. "What?"

"Before I explain anything, I have to tell you that I know about the prophecy, the one about you being 'The One'," Kenzie admitted.

"What? How did you--?" Harry asked.

"Grandmother told me," Kenzie cut in. "It's because - and you can't tell anyone - there's one about me, too. A prophecy, I mean. That's why Wormtail was sent to get me. He was supposed to take me to Voldemort."

"Do you want to tell me about the prophecy?" Harry asked carefully, trying to understand what was exactly was going while also trying not to upset Kenzie anymore than she already was.

"You know how the prophecy about 'The One' says 'he will have a power the Dark Lord knows not?' The other prophecy says that I'm 'The Key', the one to unlock that power," Kenzie explained.

"You know that that power is love?" Harry said.

"Yes," Kenzie said, blushing.

"Then that means that we--" Harry started uncomfortably.

"Exactly," Kenzie cut him off, blushing even more furiously.

"Right," Harry said quickly. He cleared his throat and looked quickly down at his hands, blushing. This was all happening so fast, his mind was working overtime trying to understand all the new information that had been thrown at him in the last few hours.

Just then the tea kettle whistled, and Kenzie got up to take it out of the flames. However, instead of pouring the boiling water into teacups, she sat the kettle down on the table next to the fireplace and came back over to sit next to Harry.

"So... er..." Harry said, extremely aware of Kenzie's closeness, "I guess you know now that I wasn't completely honest last night when we were talking about our parents."

"No, but I don't blame you," Kenzie answered. "It's hard to know you were responsible for your parents' deaths, but I know how you feel. Voldemort killed my parents because they wouldn't tell him where I was. He was after me."

Harry didn't know what to say. He opened and closed his mouth several times but soon found that words weren't necessary. Kenzie began making soft sniffling noises, and before Harry knew what was happening she was leaning against his arm, crying. Awkwardly, he put his arm around her shoulders in an effort to comfort her. She gratefully fell against his chest, clinging to his shirt and sobbing.

***

An hour later, Kenzie was lying in her bed, tossing and turning in an effort to go to sleep. Up until then all of the new information she was learning had been too much to comprehend. Instead, all she could do was cry. Now, however, the truth was setting in. Hermione was missing because of her; her parents were dead because of her; Voldemort was after her; she was 'The Key' to Voldemort's downfall. The only part of any of this which seemed to contain a glimmer of hope was what being 'The Key' entailed. If she was the key to unlocking love within Harry, then she and Harry must have been fated to be in love. She couldn't say that she didn't like the thought of it. After her tears had subdued while down in the kitchen, she had been extremely aware of how comfortable she was with Harry's arms around her as he murmured words of comfort into her hair; she had felt safe for the first time all night, as though nothing bad could happen as long as Harry was around. Maybe there was the possibility of something good in her future after all. That is of course, she thought with a jolt, if Voldemort doesn't get to us first.