The You I Never Knew, Part 7/?
The You I Never Knew
Author: MuseMe87
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Beta: PigWithHair
Rating: G
Word Count: 5,770
Disclaimer: All characters and canon situations are property of J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Originally written prior to Deathly Hallows and is considered AU.
Summary: Adele Granger never knew about the Wizarding world until the day she receives her admissions letter to Hogwarts. Now her mother, Hermione, must return to the world she left eleven years prior, and Adele will begin to search for the answer to her biggest question: who is her father?
++++++++++
Harry rolled over, half asleep, and reached out to wrap his arm around Ginny’s waist. However, he found that there wasn’t any Ginny to cuddle with, apparently not for some time now, as her side of the bed was quite cool. He groaned, flipped onto his back and brought his palm to his face. Of course. How could he have forgotten?
After he had had his conversation last night with Hermione, he rushed home to find his wife, clad in her bath robe, putting the leftovers from dinner away. She didn’t say a word to him about his whereabouts or even how his day was; she was just cold. And he knew she’d be hacked off at him for not contacting her, but it wasn’t as if he could just explain the situation. She had every right to be angry too; however, he hated this passive aggressive anger she’d pulled on him as of late. He’d much rather her just yell at him, show him that colorful Weasley temper of hers and be done with it. He’d apologize; they’d make up and go about happily being Mr. and Mrs. Potter.
When Harry smelled breakfast cooking, he talked himself into getting out of bed. Ginny was obviously still upset with him, which he couldn’t take anymore. He would go downstairs and confront her about last night. As to what he would tell her exactly, he hadn’t a clue. He’d figure out something to smooth things over though.
Harry stepped into the kitchen with a smile on his face. Maybe if she knew that he didn’t hold anything against her for her mood last night, he could crack a little of the ice. He went to the cabinet, grabbed a glass, and fetched the pitcher of orange juice. He took a drink, one long enough to try to figure out just how Ginny might react to him. Without coming up with much, he decided to just go for it.
“Morning, love,” he said brightly, moving in to give her a hug.
Ginny swatted away his hands. “Can’t you see that I’m busy with breakfast, Harry?”
“Ah, right then.”
Bad idea. He took a couple steps back from her. She might have cooled off a bit from the night before, but she certainly wasn’t ready for hugs and kisses.
“Listen, Ginny, I’m real sorry about last night. I should have told you where I was going. Can-? ”
“You should be sorry. I worry about you, you know,” she shouted, one hand on her hip and the other waving about the spatula. “You were once targeted by every dark wizard in England, if not the world. Don’t think I haven’t forgotten about that. The Second War may have ended a decade ago, but you’re still Harry Potter.”
So that’s how she felt? They’d fought about him not telling her where he was before, and every time she’d get upset about it, but he never realized the real reason behind all her rage and worry. And they called Ron clueless.
“It won’t happen again. I promise,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “I was at the pub with Ron. That’s it.”
Harry felt her tense against him. She looked up, her eyes searching his frantically. Now he feared he’d gone and done it again. What had her looking like that? Had he said something wrong? He knew she sometimes got upset when he would be away from home because he had plans with Ron. And she reminded him on several occasions that Ron could do as he pleased because he didn’t have a family but that he needed to keep in mind that he did, so it wasn’t fair to her that he be away all the time.
“The pub with Ron?”
“Yeah, but listen, we’ll reschedule our dinner reservations. Maybe even take a nice weekend trip somewhere?”
She directed his face so he was looking at her directly in the eyes. “The pub with Ron?”
“That’s what I said,” he explained, mildly irritated.
Ginny gently pushed him away, as if in a daze, and returned to her cooking. Harry was nothing short of flabbergasted. What had just happened? Why was she looking like a beaten puppy? He expected her temper to flare, not this.
Realizing that he needed to have a better plan than simply winging it, he sat down at his usual seat at the table. Why were women so damn complicated? He thought that things would go much easier if they came with instruction manuals.
As Harry went to pick up his glass of juice, something caught his eye. There was a thick folder lying next to his plate, not his usual morning reading material to say the least. He opened it up, saw that it was Auror business, and shut it. Where had this come from?
“Ginny, where did you get this?”
“Ron dropped it off. Said it was important,” she replied, her tone cold.
“Why didn’t you wake me? If it was important, I should have looked it over right away.”
Ginny turned to him. “Because he brought it over last night.”
And with that, Harry knew just what had upset her. She’d caught him in his lie, and now things were far worse than they would have been if he’d only told the truth.
+++++++++++
Particularly heavyhearted, Adele stepped into the corridor from the owlery. She was very much looking forward to growing up, because then she wouldn’t have to owl a letter home to her mother about any misbehaving she had done. Although it wasn’t as if she had really done something wrong; it was only Professor Potter who seemed to think so, despite her protests otherwise. Regardless, her mother would be receiving a letter from her professor about her “copying,” and if Adele hadn’t tried to cut it off at the pass, she could count herself staying in until she was thirty, after she factored in the Diagon Alley incident.
Biting her lip, she picked up her pace. None of this was fair. First her mother was keeping secrets from her and now Professor Potter’s accusations. Why did she have to pay the price for everyone else muddling up her life, making it much more difficult to find what she had every right to know? She deserved a break. No, she deserved-
As Adele was rounding the corner in quite the rage, she hadn’t bothered watching where she was going and ran straight into someone, causing her to take a few awkward steps backwards to regain her footing. This wronged party, however, had found himself on the floor. Quickly she fell to her knees to pick up the boy’s books while he stood up.
“I’m very sorry,” she said, standing up. “You’re not hurt, are …Gawain?”
Gawain brushed off his robes, looking a fine mix of bitter and relieved. He took the books she was holding.
“I’m fine. The books probably got it worse than me.”
“My fault. I wasn’t looking.”
“Yeah, your fault, but it doesn’t matter. I was hoping to run into you. Not literally, but…suppose I’ll take what I can get.” He looked suddenly concerned. “Where were you at breakfast, Adele? Akemi was about to call a full scale search of the castle to find you.”
“I wasn’t feeling very hungry, so I went to the owlery to mail my mum a letter.”
“To tell her about the incident with Professor Potter? Akemi told me all about it at breakfast.”
“Well I told her a lot of other stuff, good stuff, to try to make her happy before I had to tell her that. Thought it may ease my sentencing a bit.”
Gawain laughed. “Is your mum really mean or something?”
Adele shot him a look. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with. Mum was perfect in school. Granddad and Grandmum have shown me all the awards that she won when she was in primary school. I’m almost certain that she got every single one of them. In fact, I bet they probably had to make some up just for her because she was so incredibly clever. If she thinks that I’ve cheated even the tiniest bit, she’s going to be cross with me forever.”
“Do you want me to talk to Professor Potter? I’ll tell him that we weren’t even in the same room when we wrote the paper and that you probably had yours done way in advance.”
“Thanks, Gawain. It’s nice to know that you’ll stick up for me, but I don’t think it’ll help. If anything, it’ll probably get you in trouble too or something. I think it’s best if I just go to see him myself today.”
“Alright, your funeral.”
“You make me feel loads better,” she replied, her words laced with sarcasm.
“I have some good news for you.” He placed his hand on her shoulder.
“What’s that? I could use some right about now.”
“It’s quarter til ten. Time for History of Magic.”
Adele groaned, and both she and Gawain headed towards their classroom with the most unenthused expressions imaginable on their face.
++++++++++
Having just got home, Hermione unlocked the door; she was greeted by a small stack of envelopes on the floor in front of her. She picked them up, tossed her bag onto a table in the front hall, slipped off her shoes and headed for the kitchen. Instead of going through the mail immediately, she went to the refrigerator for a salad that she had made that morning for her after work snack and then sat at the kitchen table.
She looked through the new catalog from one of her favorite stores and was about to open the electric bill when she saw a letter with no stamp on it. Adele. Quicker than a child on Christmas morning, she tore open the envelope and spread out the letter.
Dear Mum,
How are you? I miss you very much! I know that I haven’t sent a lot of letters, but I’ve been super busy studying for all my classes so I can get really good marks and make you proud. I’ve been doing well and have been taking the vitamins you sent me in your package every day just like you asked because I’m a good girl.
Professor Flitwick says I’m a natural at Charms. It only took me a couple tries to be able to do the Levitation Charm. Oh, and I’m also very good at Transfiguration: the best in the class, really. The rest are all going well too, though I’m not great at Potions.
But there is this one professor here, Professor Potter, who doesn’t like me one bit, Mum. He’s so mean! I guess he’s supposed to be this really famous wizard. Everybody makes a big deal about him. I don’t know, maybe you heard about him when you went to Hogwarts. I think that he just uses his popularity to get him things and thinks that, because he’s so famous, he can just be mean to whoever he wants. For some reason he’s picked me to be mean to. The other day I turned in this really good paper on Freezing Charms that I had spent all afternoon writing, and yesterday he called me up to his desk after class and said that I cheated! Can you believe that? So if you get some letter saying that I’ve cheated in class, just ignore it. He’s completely off his rocker.
Hermione stopped reading her daughter’s letter and thought about what she’d said. Harry had accused her of cheating? Why would he do something like that? She knew Adele well enough to know that she wouldn’t do something like that.
And not only did she have to take into consideration her daughter’s previous academic history but also the current situation. If Harry had Adele in class and saw her last name, of course he would be suspicious. He was an Auror too, which meant he knew how to get information. He had used Adele to find her. Everything seemed to make perfect sense.
Hermione’s heart dropped. It seemed that even when she had opened up about her life in the Wizarding World to Adele, she was still hurting her. Adele would never admit it, but she was a very sensitive girl. The fact that she had been wrongly accused must have made her distraught. As much as Hermione would like to have a word with Harry about his means of locating her, she had no one to blame but herself. If she had only been honest from the very beginning, none of this would have happened.
Just when she thought that everything would get better, she learned, once again, that she was incredibly foolish. Adele wouldn’t stop getting hurt until the whole truth was out, until Ron knew about his daughter. She had to let go of the part of her that wanted Ron to find out accidently, without any confrontation on her part, for Adele’s sake.
She had told Harry that she needed more time to think about how to tell Ron, how to find the right words to ease this massive blow. But there was no proper way, no gentle way of saying what needed to be said. There was only the basic truth of the matter. She had left without a note, knowing that she was carrying their child, regardless of how he felt on the matter. He had sent confusing signals, yes, but the fault was hers alone to bear.
She couldn’t wait any longer. She’d been trying to put off the evitable for twelve years. And she may not know how to face him still, but the longer she waited, the deeper the wounds that she had inflicted on her daughter and on the love of her life would grow. She needed to contact Harry as soon as possible.
But first, before all that, she had to set things right with Adele. She couldn’t reveal the identity of her father just yet; she wanted Ron to be there for that, but she needed to ease Adele’s mind about Harry. He was her uncle, someone that she should turn to if she ever needed help. Until Hermione sat down to tell her everything, Adele should know that Harry was not mean, and that he is someone that she wants her to get to know.
Taking out a piece of paper and pen from a nearby drawer, she returned to the table and began penning Adele a letter.
Dearest Adele,
I’m sorry to hear about the situation with Professor Potter. I know you wouldn’t do anything of the sort, so please don’t fret over the thought of me being upset with you.
About Mr. Potter, I want you to know that he’s someone you can trust entirely. I do, with my life. You see, we’re old acquaintances of sorts. I can’t say much more than this. There’ll be a better time for it. Soon, I promise. So please don’t think unkindly of him. He has the best of intentions and is a really wonderful man.
I don’t have much time to write more. There are some things that I need to tend to, but I’ll write you soon.
Hugs & Kisses,
Mum
++++++++++
For Adele, the day couldn’t have gone by more quickly. In fact, she had been sitting in Professor Binns’s class just hoping that somehow he would go off on a tangent about the Goblin rebellions just to make time pass slower and even entertained the idea of asking him a question about them outright but kept her mouth shut for fear of retaliation from her classmates.
Regardless of what she did, five o’clock rolled around as promptly as ever and she didn’t have to fret over the impending doom that was her meeting with Professor Potter. It was time. She stood in front of the door to his office and tried to muster some courage. However, it seemed she was fresh out. She raised her shaky hand to knock on his door, but stopped suddenly when she heard a commotion from the end of the corridor. Professor Potter’s door swung open quickly, and he nearly tripped over Adele.
“Ade…Miss Granger, please step into my office. I’ll be there as soon as I clear up whatever is going on down there.” He headed off towards the shouts.
Adele did as she was instructed and went inside the office. She felt awkward just sitting down in the chair and waiting. If nothing else, staying in one position wouldn’t help her nerves any. Instead, she thought she’d just meander around the room until the professor’s return.
A particular set of pictures located not far from Professor Potter’s desk caught Adele’s eye. She’d been terribly fascinated by the fact that photos in the Wizarding World moved. And despite having been introduced to them for a short while now, she still couldn’t shake her amazement at these in particular. It was the first time she’d ever seen someone’s personal wizard photos.
One of the pictures caught her eye. In it, a young man with untidy black hair had his arm around a young red headed woman. The man looked a lot like Professor Potter, but he was missing the infamous scar on his forehead. Adele couldn’t have gone through a week’s worth of Defense Against the Dark Arts without committing the fact that he had a scar to memory. Everyone would talk about it.
So if the photo wasn’t of him, then these two people must have been his parents. His mother drew Adele’s special attention. She was a beautiful woman with kind eyes. And that hair! Adele touched her own fiery locks and examined the red hair in the photo. Her hair wasn’t as soft to be sure and a tad on the bushy side, but the color wasn’t dissimilar. If only, she thought, she could get her hair to look that pretty one day.
Adele was pulled from her thoughts as Professor Potter returned from breaking up what was probably a fight. She tried to look as if she hadn’t been examining his personal things, especially that photo. She had heard that his parents had died when he was young and, not knowing the details, she didn’t want to cause her professor any discomfort. After all, she knew better than anyone what it was like to be questioned about a parent that she’d never known. As much as she really didn’t care for the professor, she wouldn’t stoop that low.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.”
Ah, there were her nerves just as she thought they’d gone away. She awkwardly took a seat in front of his desk and prepared herself for whatever he’d planned for her. As long as it wasn’t expulsion, she’d gladly take anything.
“Now,” he began, sitting behind his desk. “I suppose we need to discuss this whole copying incident.”
“Sir, I didn’t do it. I promise.”
“I know.”
She leaned in closer to the desk as if she hadn’t heard him correctly. He knew? But how? And why was she here in that case?
“You know?”
“Miss Granger, I’m rather embarrassed to say that I’ve wrongly accused you. I don’t have any excuse for my actions, but I did a few spells on your paper that ended up proving your innocence. Can you possibly forgive me?”
He seemed sincere enough. She wanted to give him a piece of her mind for ever accusing her in the first place and causing her a whole lot of grief. But everyone made mistakes, like her mother always preached.
“I’ll forgive you if you do me a favor.”
“Blackmail is it?” he asked with a smile, which seemed to her rather out of place, given the proposition.
“No, sir not really. It’s just, I’ve already owled my mum about the incident, and you’d save me an earful if you could send her a letter saying that it was a misunderstanding.”
“Of course,” he said, almost paternally.
She looked at him suspiciously. “So I’m not going to be expelled then?”
“No, no. Nothing of the sort.”
“Then may I leave?”
“At your leisure.”
Quite frankly, she’d been in that room far too long for her liking, even if things did go in her favor. And while Professor Potter had come off rather cold and to the point in the past, Adele sensed that he was trying to make himself a little more approachable.
Just before she was about to walk out of the door, Adele thought of something else. She hadn’t had much of an opportunity to search for information about her father, but there was one thing she knew that still puzzled her, and she’d nearly forgotten about it in the hustle and bustle of beginning school. She turned to her professor and thought that now was about as good of time as any, while he was feeling guilty.
“Professor, can I ask you a question?”
“Anything.”
“What’s an Auror?”
He seemed mildly surprised at her question, but quickly recovered. “They’re wizards and witches who battle the dark arts.”
“And are there a lot of them?”
“Yeah, a good number, I’d say. I don’t really know what the count is off the top of my head.”
“Do you know any, sir?”
Professor Potter laughed. “Yeah, on a rather personal basis I’d say. I’m an Auror.”
“Oh.”
It was all she could think to say. She was expecting him to tell her that he’d known some in the past or went to school with a few but never that he actually was one. She had an urge to ask if he knew her father. Why would he, though? She couldn’t give him any more details than her mother’s name and that her father was an Auror. And if he had known her mother, he certainly would have said something when she’d told him her mother’s name. She would need to come to him with more specific things than that. Adele felt a surge of energy. She was one step closer to finding him.
That evening while at the library researching for Binns’ essay, she thought she might do a little personal research too.
++++++++++
“Oh, Ron, look at you. You haven’t been eating properly.”
And so it began. Every time he’d shown his face around the Burrow these past few months, his mother would fuss over him like he was a new baby, examining his every inch. He was too thin and his hair-too long, but perhaps he’d like her to cut it for him? Her coddling would continue until someone, usually his father, interjected on his behalf.
“Here, dear, just sit right down at the table, and I’ll whip you up some dinner.” She led him to the table and nearly forced him into a chair.
“Mum, really its fine. I’m not hungry.”
It was too late though. She hadn’t heard him. She had gone into mothering mode, and there was no chance that he’d get out of the house without eating a huge meal made just for him. Perhaps if he was lucky, his father would help him out.
“I’m worried about your sister,” she said, bewitching the potato peeler to begin peeling a hefty pile of potatoes.
“Something wrong with Ginny? I just saw her last night. She seemed fine to me.”
“Of course she doesn’t act any differently, but I know. Mother’s intuition.” She turned to face Ron. “She needs children, Ron. Life’s not complete without them. I know she had the nursing position at St. Mungo’s, but that’s only bound to keep her content for so long. And I told her when she first started there, mind you, that it wouldn’t be enough. She was raised in a big family. She needs little ones of her own to care for.”
Ron had been waiting for this for years. His mother had plenty of grandchildren to keep her happy, but there would always be room for more. The house was empty, and she needed something to nurture, so he was never surprised to see his niece or one of his nephews at the Burrow every time he was over.
The conversation would be looming over everyone’s heads right after one of them got married. With Bill and Fleur, his mother hadn’t been subtle in the least. When were they going to have children? But as grandchildren started coming along, she would manage to hold off a little while longer and find a more gentle way of asking the inevitable question. Ginny and Harry had held off the longest, but apparently their time was now up.
“She’ll have one when she’s ready, Mum. No rush.”
“Nonsense. Say you’ll talk to Harry.”
Ron nearly went bug-eyed. “About what?”
“You know what.”
“I can’t just-”
He would have tried to weasel his way out of this sudden demand from his mother, however, his sister had chosen to walk in at that very moment, much to his relief. He was certain that his mother wouldn’t say anything in front of Ginny or at least not just yet. She’d wait for a more opportune time, perhaps when she’d manage to corner both Ginny and Harry.
“Ginny!” Molly exclaimed, rushing to hug her youngest.
“’Ello, Mum. Good to see you.”
“You’re just in time, dear,” she said, taking Ginny’s bag from her and leading her towards the kitchen table much like she had with Ron. “Ron’s stopped over and I’m making him dinner.”
“I’ve already eaten dinner.”
Again, it was too late. Molly heard nothing and bewitched the peeler to peel even more potatoes than necessary. Ron and Ginny exchanged a look, one that served as a greeting and as a means to say that their mother was in one of her nurturing moods. They’d be lucky to get out of the house before midnight.
“How are things with you and Harry, love?”
Ginny shifted uncomfortably. “Good, I suppose.”
Their mother looked paralyzed with fear. “Good, you suppose? Oh, Ginny, what’s wrong? Has something happened?”
“Ron had a date last night!”
Ron looked at her, his face awash in absolute horror. How could she do something like that to him? She didn’t want to talk about her situation with Harry, whatever that might have been, so she turns their mother on him? That was a low blow. Slyly, he stepped hard on her foot under the table, and she glared at him. He was thankful that her wand was not at arms length or he’d have been Bat-bogey hexed into the next century.
“Ronald? A date? You didn’t tell me you had a date.”
“It wasn’t a big deal, Mum. Just a first date.”
“Well, what’s she like?”
“Yes, Ronald,” Ginny said victoriously. “Tell us what she’s like.”
He glared at his sister. “Her name is Marcy. I met her at work. She’s in the Department of Magical Transportation. Really sweet girl.”
“And?” his mother prodded.
“What?”
“How did your date go?” Ginny asked, no doubt interpreting their mother’s question.
Ron sighed. His mother was going to be the death of him, and Ginny sure wasn’t helping matters. What did it matter how his first date went? He felt that when he decided to bring her around it would be their business to know a little more about her. Until then it shouldn’t be an issue. However, it was apparently an issue for their mother, at least. He figured that Ginny was just feigning interest to distract their mother from her own issue with Harry.
“She’s a great girl. We went out to a local pub for a bite to eat. Wanted it to be a fun atmosphere, you know? Could have talked to her all night, but she had to leave around ten. Needed to get back to her little boy. He’s got a nasty cold, I guess…”
The sound of something hit the floor, and when he looked up at his mother, he could see her face frozen in shock. Ginny jumped up and eased her mother into the chair opposite of Ron.
“What’s wrong with Mum?” he asked, concerned.
Ginny was about to answer, but Molly reclaimed herself. “Her little boy? She’s a divorcee, Ronald?”
“No, it’s nothing like that.”
“She had him out of wedlock?”
Sometimes Ron forgot was a traditionalist his mother was. He hadn’t even thought it would be an issue with his family, and in all likelihood, it wouldn’t be once they got to know her. His mother was just afraid of him falling for a ‘scarlet woman.’ She had the best intentions, and part of him realized that it probably sounded as if she could have been some floozy, but his mother had to believe him.
“Mum, this isn’t the Dark Age, you know? Young people make mistakes.”
“None of my children ever made these so called mistakes.”
“Well not every kid has such a loving family to guide them either.”
That softened her, he was sure. Not that he was being insincere. He loved his family and the childhood his parents gave him. He wouldn’t have traded it for anything.
“Yes, well, I suppose that’s true. But you’re sure about this one? She’s not another Samantha?”
“It was Sarah, Mum. And, no, she’s not. I promise.”
“You’ll bring her over soon?”
“We’ll see.”
“Ronald.”
Ron rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’ll bring her over soon.”
++++++++++
Adele sat, looking rather unenthused, with various open books and old Daily Prophets in front of her. Professor Binns had assigned a ten-inch parchment on Wizarding games and tournaments earlier that day, and she thought that it would be better to get at least all the notes for her parchment ahead of time. It would make the writing a little less painful.
For Adele, the essay wouldn’t be that bad. She had randomly drawn the Tri-wizard Tournament for her topic, which was one of the most desirable choices. And while any of her fellow classmates would have been overjoyed at drawing Quidditch, it was the one person who wasn’t fond of the sport that got it: Gawain. Judging from his reaction, he might as well have been stuck with the history of Gobstones.
Having recently finished a chapter dedicated solely to the Tri-wizard Tournament of 1792 and the great Cockatrice fiasco, she shut that book with a great thud and looked unimpressed at the material she had left to cover. One of the draw backs at having an impressive tournament to cover was an impressive amount of things to read.
Next to her was a stack of newspapers that Madame Pince had directed her to, with the warning that if she crinkled the pages just a little bit, she’d find herself with some nasty paper cuts that seeped bubotuber puss. The older Ravenclaws had warned the first years of Madame Pince’s possessiveness towards the books and all around bad attitude.
Carefully, she took the first one from the stack. Where she thought should have been a good deal of headlines and text, she found an exceptionally large photo of a young man, probably a few years older than her. He seemed very familiar to her, but it wasn’t until she read the headline beneath the photo that she knew who the man was: Professor Potter had competed in the Tri-wizard Tournament almost fifteen years ago.
Adele began to drink in the words. Professor Potter’s life story was laid out right before her, including that he had sometimes cried himself to sleep so many years after his parent’s death. No wonder all her classmates were interested in him! Now she wanted to hear the tale too, preferably from him.
But further on in her reading, she let out a small gasp. She read those two sentences over and over again, as if she couldn’t properly understand what all those funny words meant when they were together.
Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. His close friend, Colin Creevey, says that Harry is rarely seen out of the company of one Hermione Granger, a stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl who, like Harry, is one of the top students in the school.
Her mother and Professor Potter? It seemed so strange. He was so famous, and her mum was just…well, her mum. But they were in love? It was hard for her to wrap her mind around it. Professor Potter? Was that even possible?
She considered the math for a minute. The Tri-wizard Tournament had taken place only four years before she was born. And if they had started dating during that time, then it wasn’t mad to think that they’d stayed together for some time. School sweethearts? It could be.
But there were a few other things that she knew about her father. Mr. Ollivander seemed to know without a doubt who her father was. From the way he’d made it sound, it was as if the match was only logical. If Professor Potter was famous, then maybe it was common knowledge that he and her mother were dating, possibly for some time.
And he had said that her father was an Auror. Now she was in a panic. She was so close to getting her answer with so little effort. It made her tummy ache. She had dreamt of this moment since she’d received her letter, had imagined it to be the most amazing moment in her life, but she felt almost sick.
However, the one thing, the most important and obvious thing, was missing. She touched her hair. Professor Potter didn’t have red hair or freckles. Adele became disappointed where she had once been shocked. She had been close to getting it right. But while she may not have found her father, surely her search would be a lot easier with her mother being a friend to the most famous wizard in the Wizarding world.
Deciding it might be best to turn in for the night, Adele began to stack up the books. She grabbed the stack of papers to place them on top when her eyes fell on the opening line to the first Tri-wizard Tournament article.
Harry Potter, the son of James and Lily Potter, was…
Adele couldn’t continue. James and Lily Potter. Lily Potter. The woman with that lovely red hair in the photo. Red hair. Adele brought her hands up to her own hair as if in a trance, letting the stack of papers fall to the ground.
At that moment only one thing was on her mind. She had found him. Her father was Harry Potter.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Epilogue