Life After Living

Chapter Ten

And for all you know

This could be

The difference between what you need

And what you wanna be

~The Difference, Matchbox Twenty

There were spiders dancing in pink tutus and Aragog was singing the anthem for Manchester United.

Harry awoke with a start. Ron moved next to him. "Harry?" he asked groggily.

"It's nothing," Harry answered. "A silly dream." Ron mumbled something incoherent and went back to sleep, snuggling closer to Harry. Light was already filtering through the window. Though he had no desire to, he removed himself from Ron's bed and sat down on the edge of his. Ron rolled over, oblivious.

Harry felt the fear grow in him, accompanied by self-doubt.

It had not gone unnoticed that Hermione and Ginny were not talking to Harry and Ron. It made Harry feel even more horrible than he had before. He had tried to reason with himself, his conscience telling him things that Ron could not since they were all seated at the table in the kitchen for dinner. Harry had made a deal with himself to attempt to include the two girls with he and Ron as much as possible, though it killed him that that meant less time spent alone with Ron.

There was a knock on the door and it opened, revealing Mrs. Weasley. "Glad to see you're up, Harry. Did you get any sleep at all last night?"

"A bit, yes."

"Good. Do be a dear and wake Ron up. Dumbledore and the others will be here in less than an hour."

"I will." Mrs. Weasley nodded and closed the door as she left.

Harry looked back at Ron and smiled. He stood from his bed and knelt on Ron's. He kissed Ron's forehead and then his nose. Ron's eyes fluttered open. "Good morning," Harry whispered and kissed Ron's lips.

Ron smiled sleepily. "Good morning."

"Up and at 'em," Harry bounced a little, shaking the bed. "They'll be here soon."

Ron woke a little. "You had a dream."

"Yeah. I think it was prophetical. Spiders in pink tutus."

"Merlin! That sounds like a nightmare to me." But Ron smiled. Harry kissed him again before getting up and grabbing his towel. "Save me some hot water."

Later, Harry sat beside Hermione in the drawing room. She looked half asleep and depressed. "Are you okay?" he asked as if he didn't already know.

She turned to look at him. "How did you get over Cho?" He wasn't expecting such a question.

"Er... I don't know. Eventually I just stopped thinking about her." And I started liking Ron. "I... had more pressing matters to think about at the time." Hermione nodded sadly. "Just try not to dwell on it too much."

"He told you, didn't he? He probably tells you everything. Did he tell you why?"

"I'm sorry, Hermione, more sorry than you know." He put an arm around her. She didn't shrug it away.

A familiar looking, spiky-haired woman entered the room and grinned when she saw Harry and Hermione. Harry pulled his arm away. "Tonks!"

"Wotcher, Harry, Hermione."

"Hullo, Tonks," Hermione smiled.

A dark-skinned man entered behind Tonks. "Shacklebolt," Harry nodded at the man.

"Hello, Harry," Kingsley Shacklebolt nodded his bald head back. Slowly, more people entered the room. Ron and Ginny arrived, followed by their father and Bill. Last to arrive was Remus, Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, and Dumbledore. It seemed like a small crowd compared to the time when Harry had been rescued from Privet Drive the year before. (He'd been too unconscious to know how many had come to retrieve him just that summer.) Then again, Dumbledore had not been present the time before.

After all the greetings, Harry spoke. "How is this going to work?"

"We will be flooing--" Harry groaned inwardly, "--to a small cottage outside of Maridunum where a wizard by the name of Brithael resides. From there we will walk to Maridunum."

"Maridunum?" It was Hermione. "But I thought Maridunum was just an old wife's tale!"

"Wife's tale?" Harry asked.

"They say it is where Merlin himself was born," Hermione explained. She turned to Dumbledore. "And you're saying that Maridunum exists?"

"Maridunum does exist, my child. It is impossible to know if Merlin was, in fact, born there." Dumbledore winked at her. He then turned to the fireplace. "Are we ready, then?" At everyone's nod, he advanced to the fireplace. He stepped into the massive fireplace and Arthur held out a pot of Floo powder. Taking some in his hand, Dumbledore spoke clearly, "Brithael Cottage," and was gone.

Harry and then Ron were the last to stumble out of the fireplace. A wrinkled old man with sparse gray hair greeted them. "Brithael," he said, offering a shaking hand to Harry. "It is such a pleasure to meet Harry Potter." His voice shook as well with his senescence. Harry shook the old man's hand cordially.

"Let us proceed," Dumbledore said and ushered the two boys from the cottage. Outside they were greeted with beautiful country and a road following a river to the right of it.

"Where are we?" Harry asked as they began to travel down the road. The adults surrounded the younger and Dumbledore.

"We are in Carmarthenshire." Dumbledore answered.

"Wales," Hermione breathed.

"This is the river Tywi," Dumbledore continued. "Maridunum is only a mile or so ahead." They continued to walk for what seemed like ages. Harry was continuously distracted as his hand brushed Ron's. Hermione and Ginny were only steps ahead of them and Remus, Moody, and Shacklebolt were directly behind them. Tonks, Arthur, and Bill took the lead.

"Tell me about Maridunum," Harry finally ventured, glancing at the elder wizard at his side.

"It has been the home of the Potters for many centuries," Dumbledore answered. "And it has been the home of your ancestors for many more. It is said by some that it is where Merlin was born but as I said before," he looked at Hermione as she glanced back, "It is difficult to know such things." It was then that they turned down a road that led directly away from the river. "It is where you were born, Harry, and many of your ancestors before that."

"Your father was quite fond of it," Remus said from behind. "As was Sirius... and myself."

"And my mother?"

"I have never seen a house welcome someone so warmly as it did Lily," Dumbledore answered.

"And she it," Remus added.

"It was just as much hers as any Potter's." Dumbledore smiled warmly at Harry.

"Even though she was Muggle?"

"It is true that the Potters were of Pure-blood, but they never looked down on the Muggle. Though they are few and far between, there are, including you, some half-blood Potters." They had entered a thick grove of trees as Dumbledore continued. "A fact that created a rift between your Great Grandfather and his sister. But I will save that story for later." Harry started to complain but noticed that Dumbledore's attention was focused on a great wall ahead of them. The road soon bent and revealed a gate.

The gate was grand, to say the least. It towered above the approaching group. Though it was tarnished and showed evidence that it had not been used in many years, it looked solid. Vines had weaved their way through its bars, yet the large P remained outstanding. "Is that Devil's Snare?" Hermione asked as they neared.

"No," Dumbledore answered. "Only Flitterbloom. But often mistaken, as you see. And that is its intention." They stopped several meters from the gate.

"Now, Harry. When your grandparents and then your parents died, the house sealed itself. It can only be reopened by you alone."

"When did they die?" Harry asked, referring to his grandparents.

"In the winter of your first year. February I think it was." Knowing that more questions were arising in Harry, Dumbledore continued. "They died here protecting the location of you and your parents."

"So Voldemort did find Maridunum." Harry seethed, feeling his insides shutter with hatred for the man who had destroyed his family.

"Yes," Dumbledore answered. "Though they did not die by his hand."

"Who then?" Harry looked away, trying to calm himself.

"That we do not know." Dumbledore took a breath. "Go on, then, Harry. It just needs to know you're here."

Harry looked away to the high gates and then to Ron, who smiled reassuringly, though his eyes betrayed his nervousness for Harry. All Harry wanted was to be able to hold Ron's hand. Instead, he turned back to the gate and stepped away from the others gingerly. Upon reaching the gate he felt a presence around him. He knew instantly that it was the wards evaluating his presence.

There was suddenly a rush of air around Harry and the sound of old metal coming to life. He stumbled back as the Flitterbloom began to untangle. One of the girls shrieked behind him as the ground began to rumble. Harry stumbled back again and started to fall. Arms caught him and he knew instantly that it was Ron. The columns at each side of the gate changed and two lions roared to life from the ground beside them. Harry grasped onto Ron's arms. Before the group was now a grand gate of bronze, ornate in design, the P standing proudly. The lions shook their stone manes and settled onto their pedestals, menacing looks upon their faces. The air settled and Harry felt Ron sigh against him.

Harry pulled away from the taller boy, standing on his own. As he stepped to the gate he saw that there was now a sort of knocker below the P. It was a gold fairy, her wings outstretched, hands covering her eyes. He reached up and touched her hands, in awe of its beauty. Startled, he snatched his hand away as she moved. Her fingers spread, little gold eyes peeking from behind. "What do you seek beyond these gates?" A feminine little voice asked.

Harry was silent for only a moment before he answered. "My history."

The fingers spread even more; revealing sections the fairy's face. "Your history? Only the blood has that here. Are you of blood?"

"My name is Harry Potter," he answered. "Son of James and Lily Potter."

The fairy's hands came completely away at that. Her face was filled with wonder. "Harry Potter," she breathed. She smiled brightly. "We've been waiting for you. Your history awaits." With a shutter of metal the gates began to open, allowing entrance to Maridunum for the first time in over fifteen years.

Harry turned, looking back at Ron and then the others. "Shall we?"

The walls surrounding Maridunum seemed to stretch forever and Harry was not too sure that they didn't. The land was heavily wooded with massive oaks. He was allowed to take the lead, the others seeming to know that there was no threat beyond the walls. The gates swung closed behind Remus and Dumbledore, the last to enter. Harry stayed to the rutted road; something telling him that it led somewhere important.

He paused for a moment, letting Ron, Hermione, and Ginny to catch up to him, suddenly feeling the need for the presence of something familiar. They looked as much in awe as he felt. "It's gorgeous, Harry," Ginny said. The four walked together down the road, the adults following close behind.

"I'm glad they let you guys come," Harry said. "I don't think I could do this without you."

They didn't have to walk for long before the trees broke in front of them and Hermione let out a gasp for all four of them. "Myrddin Manor," Dumbledore announced from behind them. The large manor was several stories high and towered above them. Harry had known that the Potter family was well respected. Myrddin Manor gave every indication that a rich and old family owned it. And it's mine. Harry could hardly contain his awe.

The Manor was made of stone. It had the distinct look of a castle, but not quite as big. The windows looked black, unseeing. It looked cold even as the sun shone down upon it. There appeared to be a grand entrance to the house.

There was a smaller wall surrounding the Manor and rose perhaps only a meter or two high. Its gate was nowhere near as ornate as the first. It was small and made an awful noise as Harry pushed it open. The lawn was overgrown and Remus had to cast a spell so they could get down the path. As they walked down the now clear path towards the front door of the Manor, Harry heard a familiar sound. He turned, following the sound of creaking wood. In the distance behind the house, at the edge of a large hill, there stood a giant Whomping Willow. He had stopped in his tracks at the sight and Tonks almost crashed into him, instead tripping and knocking into Ron.

"It protects the entrance to the tombs." Harry turned to look at Moody, who had spoken. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to find Hermione. She gave a small smile of reassurance. He smiled back appreciatively and cast a glance at Ron who was trying to get away from Tonks apologetic grasp.

When they reached the steps of the Manor, Harry quickly saw that there was another fairy on door, her hands at her side. He moved slowly up the steps, passing a smaller set of stone lions to either side. The fairy blinked her gold eyes as he stepped up to her. "It is true," she whispered. "Harry Potter has come home to us. Welcome home!"

The double doors opened on their own accord. A gust of air blew past Harry and he took a step back. There was only a hint of staleness in the air. There was another smell, soft and calming, that he remembered, though. He couldn't place it, but he knew it. He hesitated then. He felt as if at any moment he would wake from his wonderful dream. For so long he had felt like a stranger in the world. Maridunum had the feel of home. He didn't care if it was just his imagination. He wasn't sure if he was ready for the emotions that were rising in him.

"Go on, Harry," he heard Ron say encouragingly from behind him. He turned to look back at him and then at Dumbledore, who smiled broadly.

The Manor was silent as he crossed the threshold. It had the air of history to it, a cross between staleness and stone. And there was that smell. It was another moment before he finally recognized it as the smell of cedar. He remembered it only for the cedar bark Petunia had placed in the garden years before. He remembered loving the smell of the garden after that.

The foyer was stately, but Harry considered that an understatement. A large staircase led up to a landing, which no doubt led further into the house. There was a parlor to the right and what looked like a large formal dining area to the left. The foyer itself housed a large marble table with a large empty vase in the center. As the group entered, the house seemed to become alive. Flowers sprouted from the vase and lanterns sprang to life around the room. There was a sudden rush of voices and Harry stepped back into Hermione.

"He's here!"

"Who's here?"

"The baby!"

"He's here!"

"He's here!

"He's come home!"

"Harry Potter has come home to Maridunum!"

As quickly as the voices had begun, they ceased and a painting to the right caught Harry's attention. "Harry Potter," an aged woman spoke from her portrait. "Welcome home, dear. We've been waiting so long." Harry moved towards the portrait and stopped we he was close enough to read the small brass plaque beneath her. Desdemona Potter, it proclaimed and listed her years as 1604 to 1723. He smiled broadly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Harry said timidly.

"Please enter the parlor," Desdemona said. "The others are waiting to see you. You do look so much like your father."

Harry nodded and moved to the side, facing the door to the parlor. Glancing back, he saw that the rest of the group had remained standing in the middle of the foyer. He left them, stepping into the parlor.

In addition to the plush couches and chairs, the room was covered in portraits. They all sprang to life the second he stepped into the room.

"Harry!"

"Oh, Harry!"

"Look at him! Just like James!"

"I say!"

"Nay, he's the spitting image of Darrius."

"I second that!"

"Darrius, what do you think?" All the portraits turned to one point in the room and Harry followed catching sight immediately. He moved forward and read the plaque. Darrius Potter. He'd been born in 1903 and died in 1965. Harry instantly had to agree with the other portraits. It was like looking in a mirror and seeing himself several years later.

Darrius Potter smiled. "My great-grandson. I do say it is as if I am looking back into my childhood." Harry could see that even their eyes were almost the same color. Darrius' were a light green, though.

"I think he has Alexandra's nose," someone said and several scoffed. Harry found himself smiling. He suddenly wanted his friends to meet the portraits. He retreated to the door and motioned for the rest of the group to come.

"I want you to meet my family," he said still smiling. He moved back into the room and began reading the plaques and greeting the portraits. He turned to the others as they entered. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny looked around wide-eyed as they were greeted. Harry pulled Ron to him. "Look," he said, pointing to Darrius. "My great-grandfather."

"You look just alike," Ron mused.

After moving all the way around the room, Harry came back to Darrius. "Are there no portraits of my parents or grandparents?" He asked, disappointed.

Darrius pointed to a large drape that covered a small section of the room. Harry had assumed it covered a window as it matched another set several feet away. "They have been quiet since that fateful day. We do not dare disturb them. But perhaps they will delight in seeing you." Harry hesitated.

"Go on, Harry," another portrait, Clancy Potter, said. "It's about time they stopped sulking."

Summoning the courage from deep inside, Harry stepped forward and took the drape in his hand. With a deep breath he pulled it aside, revealing three portraits. They had no plaques, but Harry didn't need them. One portrait held his grandfather. Another held his grandmother. The third was of a young couple. They all started to attention. Harry suddenly felt overwhelmed. Before him were his parents and grandparents. They all gazed at Harry with startled expressions.

"Harry," a soft voice said and he looked instantly to his mother. She pulled away from his father's protective arm. He could sense the others moving out of the room.

"Ron," he heard Hermione hiss. But Harry turned to them with a pleading look in his eyes. The others were already gone, but seeing Harry's look, his two friends remained. He looked back at his parents.

His mother smiled. "Welcome home, Harry," his father said. We're so glad you could finally come."

"A spitting image," his grandmother said, and joined her husband in his portrait.

"Indeed," his grandfather answered. "Lily's eyes, though."

"His father's antics, no doubt," his grandmother replied.

"And what if he does?" his father asked with a sneer.

"Have mercy on his teachers," his grandmother scoffed.

Harry found himself smiling again, despite the tears that had been threatening to spill out over his cheeks. "How old are you now?" his grandfather asked.

"S-Sixteen," Harry answered. "Just."

"Well, I hope you're better mannered than your father was at that age," his grandmother said. And his father stuck his tongue out towards Harry's grandmother.

"He's very well-mannered," Hermione spoke up from behind.

"And who might you be?" James asked.

"Oh," Harry said, turning. "These are my friends. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley."

"Well, yes, of course," his grandfather answered, smiling. "I pegged him for a Weasley instantly. Granger, though? Can't say I've heard the name."

"I'm Muggle-born, sir," Hermione replied.

"You wouldn't know it, though," Ron spoke up. "She's number one in our class."

"A girl after my own heart," Lily replied.

"We shouldn't keep you, dears," his grandmother said. "Certainly you'll want to be seeing the rest of the house."

"I could stay here all day," Harry replied. The portraits only smiled.

"Where is that house-elf?" his grandmother asked.

On command, Harry heard a popping noise and turned. Before him, then was a smallish house-elf with eyes quite similar to that of Dobby. "Harry Potter!" the house-elf nearly shouted. (The adults and Ginny appeared in the doorway again.) "Charley is sorry he did not come sooner, but Charley could not let Master Potter see the dust that has settled here."

Harry smiled. "Hello, Charley, is it?" Harry extended his hand. Charley looked at him wide-eyed.

"Oh, Master Potter, they have spoken true of you!" Charley shook his hand. He wore only what appeared to be a dishrag around his waist. "Charley has been ever so impatient to meet you. If Charley had not been forbidden to leave Maridunum..." Charley was still shaking Harry's hand. Smiling, Harry pulled his hand away. "Charley is at your service, Master Potter. Anything he wishes!"

"I'm fine, thank you Charley."

"Dobby spoke such amazing things about you, Master Potter, but Charley did not believe him. Dobby did not lie."

"You know Dobby?" Harry asked amazed.

"Dobby is Charley's cousin, Master Potter."

"Please call me Harry."

"Harry, sir."

"Yes."

"Dobby's mother was once a house-elf for the Potters. Mistress Alexandra took her with her."

"The other drape, Harry," James voice said quietly. Harry looked at the other drape. Before he could step forward, though, Charley snapped and the drape fell away.

Harry had seen such tapestry before at number 12 Grimmauld Place. This one however proclaimed at the top that it was The Great House of Potters. Harry stared in amazement. He stepped closer. There were many names on it and Harry's eyes instantly went towards the bottom. He found the name Gregory Potter. Below it was the name Darrius Potter, and below it, the name Marcus Potter with a line stating that he was married to Isla. "Marcus and Isla Potter," Harry turned to his grandparents, who smiled. Below their name, James Potter and a line to Lily Potter. Below them, his own name was written.

"Harry, look." Ron had come to stand beside him and pointed. Harry followed his finger. He saw the name Alexandra and a line to a name that made him balk.

"Findlay Malfoy." He followed the line down past Galahad. Below Galahad, he hissed when he saw the name. "Lucius." Below Lucius was, of course, Draco Malfoy. "I'm related to Malfoy."

"It does not surprise me that the name Malfoy does not sit well with you," it was Marcus that spoke. "There has long been a rival between our two families. It all started with Darrius and Alexandra." They all looked over towards Darrius' portrait but he was looking away, his nose turned up.

"They had very different opinions about who belonged in the Wizarding world," Isla added. "She did not approve of the Muggle-born."

"An opinion that has been passed down to her Great-grandson," Harry said.

"Ah, yes. Draco Malfoy," James said. "He is your third cousin."

"He's a Potter," Hermione said. She had stepped up to the tapestry and examined it. Harry looked at her and then to the tapestry. It was true. Draco Malfoy was a descendant of the Potter family.

"Now you know how I feel," Ron said. "Interesting how we're related to him from totally different sides."

Harry stepped away from the tapestry and back in front of the portraits of his parents and grandparents. "Is there anything I should know? Anything in the house I need to see. I don't think I'll have time to see everything."

James looked over at his father. Marcus nodded and spoke, "There's a study on the second floor. In a drawer of the desk there's a cedar box. Take it with you."

"Thank you."

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Harry retrieved the cedar box, slightly bigger than a shoebox, from the drawer of the desk in the study. It was locked and he felt the need to wait until he was alone to open it. There was also a family album on the desk. Flipping through he found several pictures of his grandparents and his father. There were older photographs as well. He pulled down a leather satchel from a peg on the wall. It was empty and just big enough for the box and the album. He put the bag over his shoulder, smiling at Ron and Hermione. They met the others in the foyer.

"I want to go to the tombs."

"Of course," Dumbledore answered.

They made their way outside. (Harry said goodbye to all the portraits and promised his parents that he would return as soon as he could.) Charley appeared to tag along with them. As they walked, he handed a piece of parchment to Harry. "Master Potter's father said Charley was to give this to Harry." Harry unfolded the parchment. It was blank. He looked up at Remus who nodded and smiled. Harry pulled his wand from the folds of his robes and tapped the parchment.

"I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good." The parchment became full of crisscrossing lines. Messer Prongs Presents a Special Edition of THE MARAUDERS MAP of MARIDUNUM. Harry smiled. He opened the map eagerly, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny peering over his shoulder.

"There we are," Hermione said, pointing out the group of names traveling from an inked picture of the Manor to a drawn hill with the name Emrys' Bluff written above it. Harry gazed at the map, taking in the wall around Maridunum and the river Tywi. In a far corner of the map there was a drawing of bits and pieces of stones. Below it was written Castle Ruins.

"There was castle here once?"

"It burned long ago," Dumbledore said. "And the Manor was built to replace it."

Harry tapped the map. "Mischief Managed." He stuffed it and his wand into the satchel. He was very anxious to see the tombs. The anxiety was suddenly so overwhelming that he had to stop.

"Harry?" Ron asked. He put a hand on Harry's arm. Harry put his hand over Ron's. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Harry answered. He squeezed Ron's hand and then let go. "Thank you."

Dumbledore stilled the Whomping Willow. Harry looked at the others. "Is it okay if I go in alone?"

"Of course," Dumbledore answered.

Beyond the Whomping Willow was the entrance. Torches lit themselves as Harry stepped inside. The walls of stone led down before leveling out. There, several tunnels led further into the hill. Harry hesitated only briefly and fetched the map again. He turned it until he could see the chambers of the tombs. Little flags identified where each ancestor lay. He finally found the names of his parents, in the same chamber as his grandparents, and followed the path to said chamber.

The torches continued to light themselves as Harry headed downwards. Eventually Harry found himself in a small cavern room. There were four stone sarcophaguses arranged in a U around the room. The first one he approached was his mother's. Lily Potter was written in the stone along with her date of birth and her date of death, October 31, 1981. James Potter was etched into the stone of the sarcophagus next to hers. It proclaimed the same year of birth and the same death date. His grandparents' both said that they had been born in 1939 and that they had both died on February 15, 1981.

"I'm sorry," he spoke into the silence. "I'm sorry it was me that the prophecy spoke of. Sometimes I wish it had been Neville Longbottom, but I don't really want to wish this upon anyone." He let a tear run down his cheek. "I owe you a Thank You. To each one of you. You died to protect me, and I can only thank you by making sure that you didn't die in vain. I hope you'll be proud of me. I don't want to do what I know is expected of me, but if it's my only option, I guess I'll have no choice.

"I just wish you were here to help me. It's just so much." Harry's voice cracked. He closed his eyes. "It's real now. It's all so real." Opening his eyes, Harry ran his fingers over his mother's name. "How am I supposed to do this?" He waited in silence, praying for an answer, any answer, but the silence remained. The dead could not speak to him. Or so he thought.

He felt the presence behind him immediately and turned. There, a pearly-white image of himself, stood Darrius Potter, ghost. "Dear Harry," he said quietly. "Words cannot describe the injustice bestowed upon our family and onto you." He floated down next to Harry, who had slid down the side of his mother's sarcophagus. "But you are not alone, my son. The spirits are always with you."

"Will that be enough?" Harry asked.

"I can only tell you what many have been told from the beginning of time. Follow your heart, Harry, for it is the heart that knows the ultimate truth within us all. Go, child, and do not dwell on the past. We are all safe and sound. There are still many obstacles along your path, but they will all help you on your way home." Darrius smiled sadly at his great-grandson before rising up and out of the room.

Harry no longer wanted to be at Maridunum. Grabbing the satchel from the ground he fled from the chamber and out of the tombs.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

They left Maridunum, Harry looking back over his shoulder as the gate was again sealed, the lions disappearing into the ground. "Alright, Harry?" Ron asked in a hushed voice.

"I'm fine," Harry answered, looking back one more time. "I think I'm ready to be back in school."

"Me, too, surprisingly," Ron agreed. The walked the mile or so back to Brithael Cottage where, upon Brithael's insistence, they ate lunch. It was then that Harry asked Dumbledore how he knew so much about the Potter family.

"My great-great-great-grandmother was a Potter," Dumbledore answered. "And Marcus and Isla were great friends of mine, as were your parents after they left Hogwarts." Nothing more was said about it as they began flooing back to Grimmauld Place. Harry's last glimpse was of Brithael waving.

"Come back soon, Harry Potter!"