Paradox

Chapter 2:

The Hufflepuff Sanctuary had not had this many important people here since the War. There were old faces and new, most I recognized as former patients. They all had one thing in common ... Harry Potter. I did, of course, work side-by-side with Harry several times during the War. He even took me to the Halloween Dance one year (that was the year the teachers were trying to promote Inter-House Relationships and actually drew names out of a hat, assigning partners to each other. I was lucky. I heard Lisa Turpin ended up going with Gregory Goyle, and she hasn't been the same since.) However, although the few missions (and seven years spent in the same school, breathing in the same air, arguing with the same referee during Quidditch matches--for different teams, of course--does tend to give you some sort of authority on a person) were enough to acquaint me with his appearance, there were still a number of tests to be performed before we could ascertain a) whether he was really Harry Potter and not a fake, b) what happened to him, c) how he ended up on our doorstep, and d) what we were going to do with him.

After much consultation (while the Harry lookalike rested), we (as in they) decided that they would question Harry in the presence of all of his closest friends and mortal enemies (namely Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Draco, Sirius, Remus, and Severus). They would each ask questions, most likely private ones only one or two knew, and all would be watching him closely to see if he would betray himself in any manner. I would, of course, be monitoring his pulse rate, temperature, and overall health the entire time.

As I gazed around me once again, I wondered to myself what Harry Potter would think if he saw his friends now.

Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger had married (she was Hermione Granger-Weasley now) and had a total of two children. Hermione was adamant on not having more.

Ron Weasley was a solicitor famous for his honesty, a trait rare in modern wizarding society. While the typical solicitor was known for his scheming and bribing and desperate attempts to pronounce his client a free man, Ron Weasley never accepted a guilty client and never prosecuted his innocent man. This earned his some enemies, of course, but his ex-Auror training kept him from any serious incidents, and any crime lord stupid enough to attack his family and friends (most of whom had gone under rigorous Auror training themselves during the War and still had lightning-fast reflexes) was soon packed off to Azkaban. His successful career and several lucky business investments had insured that not only did he have an honorable place in society, he also had enough to live the rest of his life comfortably (if somewhat frugally) without lifting a finger. That was against his nature, of course.

Hermione Granger-Weasley may have spent her time during the war as a Researcher and Auror (which was almost a paradox, as Researchers generally supplied Aurors with information and equipment, yet never actually participated in the fighting--with the exception of Hermione, of course) but now that the War was over and hopefully would not be followed by a similar one, Hermione had accepted a job as both Encryptor and Decoder. This was a bit peculiar, of course, as Decoders and Encryptors did practically the opposite, but Hermione was content. She employed Arithmancy, Charms, some Transfiguration, some Curse-breaking, and a lot of logic in her job, all of which were subjects that she was good at. She Decoded Dark Arts documents (generally confiscated from families with ancient bloodlines that were too embarassed to admit that they had illegal objects as family heirlooms) and Encrypted top secret Ministry of Magic information. Her level of security clearance was abnormally high, and was generally targeted because of it, but anyone who messed with Hermione Granger messed with the wrong person.

At this point, I stopped my ruminations to smile at the thought of the two adorable Weasleys that were their children. Although I'm not as close of a friend as some, I have fought side-by-side with them in the War, and there are some things you can't face without feeling some sort of bond. I was invited to the christening, and both are adorable.

Boromir Weasley (Hermione named him) is now 5 years old, and already he shows signs of being a lady-killer. His unruly mop of red-gold hair gives him an incredibly cute look, and he has large eyes that can seem innocent as an angel and hypnotising as a snake-charmer. He can pull the most outrageous pranks yet still put on a perfect It-was-a-complete-accident-Honest look that charmed you into letting him off. Of course, I pity any child who is burdened with such a tiresome name as Boromir (so many derogatory nicknames and just plain embarassing nicknames can stem from such a long given name) but this infant came off lucky. Ron Weasley had insisted that no son of his would be prancing around with such a ridiculous given name and not have a halfway-decent middle name. So his full name is Boromir William Weasley, and everyone calls him Will.

Athena Weasley (named after Professor McGonagall, at the insistence of Hermione ... she wanted to name her daughter Minerva, but Ron was adamant on not doing so) is only three years old. She has the same red-gold hair as her brother, and is a complete tomboy. She is tall for her age, and Will is short, so they look like twins. They certainly act like the Weasley twins used to. She's more prone to accidents, and comes to the Sanctuary often so that her scrapes and such can be treated.

My eyes next fall on Virginia Malfoy. No longer little "Ginny", she is a successful and sophisticated editor of the Fantastical Cosmopolitan, a magizine completely different from the Muggle Cosmopolitan. Her magazine only publishes stories for which she can verify sources and prove. She includes up-to-date news and exposes government-kept secrets. It brings in a healthy amount of money, which she doesn't really need, as she's married to Draco Malfoy, heir to the family fortune and estate (which they never visit ... Virginia says it's too bleak.)

Draco Malfoy makes full use of his father's fortune, though most of the time only giving it to charities. The money he spends for himself and his wife is the money he or his wife earns. Draco, of course, is a politican, but because of his experiences as an ex-Auror, he doesn't follow bureaucratic procedures as meticulously as the ordinary bureaucrat. He is a firm believer in improvising, making do, and not letting even his superiors know everything. He has been offered a position as Head of International Affairs several times, but always turns it down in favor of his more dangerous, yet well-paying position as Ambassador to the Netherworld. The Netherworld isn't exactly another country, and is well-paying because his predecessors have always died. Dealing with a world of demons does that to one, especially if one does not learn to be diplomatic. The specifics of his job are unknown, but he and his wife fight monthly about his job. She claims it's too dangerous. He says he doesn't care. And so on. Draco had been in enough danger during the War as a double agent for the Light side, and most normal people were willing to give up their dangerous lifestyles after the war in exchange for a bland, safe, and well-paying job. According to Draco, doing so was boring. He enjoyed the spice of danger, and knew full well that if anyone even attempted to threaten his wife or other friends, the infamous Weasley temper would incinerate the idiot in three seconds flat.

They had no children, though Virginia was beginning to drop hints that another child would be nice. Another, as they had already adopted a young girl who was orphaned during the War; most peculiar circumstances left her in the custody of the newlywedMalfoys, who were unsure of what to do with a ten-year-old (who wasn't much younger than them at the time ... only eight years younger) who had undergone a lot of trauma, and spoke rarely.

Annette Blake chose to keep her old family name, and was considered more of a sibling or cousin than a daughter. She had cropped brown hair and green eyes, and is now eighteen and a new graduate from Hogwarts. She applied for the Aurors' Academy, and was rejected because of her less-than-perfect Defense Against the Dark Art scores. She was unhappy, of course, but immediately applied for a position in the Department of Mysteries. She isn't an Unspeakable yet, per se, but according to her Orientator, she will be one soon at her rate of progress.

I looked at Sirius and Remus. The two were confirmed bachelors and were, at the moment, temporary flatmates because Sirius's apartment had to be exterminated for Bundimuns. Sirius was dating a Muggle figure-skater named Clarice, but nobody (none of his friends, at least...I wouldn't know) expects him to stay with her for long. He's too reclusive to give up his single lifestyle. There are, also, other rumors about Sirius and Remus ... I don't dwell on the matter because it's really none of my business. Remus was lucky because Professor Snape (now Headmaster Snape of Hogwarts ... Professor McGonagall was hit by a stray Avada Kedavra during the War) discovered a potion that would enable him to keep his human form during the full moon, as long as he drank portions of it of increasing amounts the week preceding the full moon.

And last I looked at Headmaster Snape. He had given up his position as Potion Master of Hogwarts, somewhat unwillingly, to Blaise Zabini, a talented young girl who was acquitted of Death Eater crimes because she had only done so to protect her family (who had been captured by Voldemort to insure her good behavior). His position as Head of Slytherin had been given to Professor Sinistra, the Astronomy teacher, to his disgust. He seemed to hold a deep and profound grudge against Professor Sinistra that began the day the War ended. I myself suspect that the grudge hides deeper feelings and/or passions, but then again, I'm not exactly your most impartial observer. (I bet Mandy Brocklehurst that he would end up with Professor Sinistra vs. Blaise Zabini).

All in all, everyone in the room had come far from the person they had been when Voldemort was defeated. Hermione and Ron were a happily-married couple with two children. Virginia and Draco were married and there was a definite difference in mood from when they were younger. Sirius no longer had a haunted look about his eyes (partly due to the extermination of all Dementors) and Remus no longer looked pale and sallow. Several werewolf/vampire/other-supernatural-and-afflicted-human equal rights acts had been passed, establishing a buffer against prejudice. Remus had a permanent job as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher of a school for "special person", another term for afflicted peoples, (Apparating to school every morning from his flat) and was even considering dating as an option for once, rather than refraining from it because of his lycanthropy.

My eyes fell on Harry and wondered how he would react. I decided that I would make sure he heard of no news for a while, as if he were the real Harry, the sudden shock might disturb his rest. Slowly, I drew my wand across his forehead and muttered the spell that would help him to relax while at the same time nudge him awake. Unlike Enervate, it wouldn't wake him abruptly and leave possible chances of damage.

Slowly his eyes opened. I took control first. "What's your name?" I asked briskly.

"Wha-?" was his reply.

I enunciated my words. "I am testing whether you posess full control of your mental capacities. What is your name?"

He gave me a bleary blink before saying in a hoarse voice, "Harry Potter."

"How old are you?" I asked next.

"Eighteen," he responded.

"What year is it?" I then asked.

"1998," he said as he rubbed his eyes with his hands.

"Who's the Minister of Magic?" I asked.

"Cornelius Fudge," he answered, not without some disgust in his voice.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" I asked, holding up two.

"Fingers?" he asked.

I Levitated his glasses over and handed them to him, satisfied that he had, at the very least, truly needed his glasses (this was determined with a quick Eyetesting Charm that I wouldn't bother you with the mechanics of).

He put them on blinked, emerald green eyes zooming on me. "Hannah?" he asked in astonishment.

I held up three fingers this time. "Now how many fingers am I holding up?"

"Three," he answered automatically, then shook his head. "Where am I?"

"You're at the Hufflepuff Sanctuary, Harry," I said as kindly as I could. "I'm afraid we'll havee to ask you a few questions, to verify your mental capacity and see whether your long coma has caused any temporary amnesia." There, I thought triumphantly as I finished. It was a feasible explanation and would explain any personal questions.

Harry nodded somewhat groggily.

"First, of course, we'll have to ask you a few personal questions to make sure you still remember everything." I surveyed the seven to find the person who had probably changed the least, and my eyes fell on Sirius. "Mr. Black, why don't you ask your questions first?"

Sirius, usually so charming around women, looked nervous and excited at the same time. He and been crushed when Harry's body had disappeared and had almost gone insane for six months afterwards, insisting that his godson must be alive, and searching the battlefield time and time again. He recovered from his bout of rabid intensity, but still visits the battlefield once a year out of respect for Harry and on the off-chance that he might find something he overlooked in preceding visits.

"Harry," Sirius began, but his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and began again. "Harry, do you remember what we did on your birthday when you turned seventeen?"

Harry immediately blushed, and I grew suspicious. What would Harry be doing that caused him to blush? "Umm ..." his voice was hesitant. "Do I have to say?"

"Yes, you have to," Virginia said promptly, wanting to know, before backing off sheepishly at my glare. We had already established that I was to do most of the talking, as Weasleys, Maruaders, and Slytherins have a tendency to reveal certain things I would rather not they reveal.

Harry coughed uncomfortably. "We went to a bar ... and ... uh ... it was one of those place ... with ... uh ... dancing ..."

"That's enough," Sirius said, coughing as well, ignoring Remus's curious glance, Severus's incredulous one, and my indignant one. "Onto the next question."

Hermione looked ready to object, but caught herself in time, and only rolled her eyes, sighing inwardly.

Sirius continued. "Relate the first few times we met."

Harry blinked several times. "Well, we met in the Shrieking Shack-"

Sirius cut him off. "No, before that. When you didn't know I was me."

Harry began rather hesitantly. "Well, I saw you ... that one day ... when I ... ran away ..."

"Yes," Sirius nodded. "And?"

He scrunched up his face. "That one time you sneaked into Gryffindor, it was Ron who saw you, not me. And when you slashed the Fat Lady, it was Peeves who saw you. There was the time ... I think ... when I played Quidditch? Wasn't that you?"

I frowned at his inability to recall such events. Although some things were just too trivial, he sounded as if he weren't even sure whether he were on the right track or not, just saying what sounded right. Obviously, being Petrified had impaired his memory temporarily. That was to be expected, of course. I was surprised he had only experienced a few moments of disorientation rather than a few minutes, but then Auror training is vigorous and trainees learn to orient themselves quickly. "Are you feeling okay?" I asked.

"I'm fine," he said hastily, obviously wanting to stay awake longer.

Sirius, meanwhile, had moved on to his next question. "What took place at and after your graduation ceremony?"

Harry's face relaxed and he grinned, realizing what his godfather was speaking about. "Well, the graduation ceremony itself was normal enough. Then the Head Boy and Head Girl went up to speak." At this point, both Hermione and Draco were rolling their eyes. "Hermione gave her speech, and everything was fine. Then Draco opened his mouth, but all that would come out was the squeaking of a ferret. Hermione tried to undo whatever spell had been cast upon him, but she made the mistake of brushing past him, and got stuck to him. Afterwards, anyone who touched them got stuck to them, like the story of the Golden Goose. It was hilarious." He paused and frowned. "By the way, who did manage that?"

Ginny's eyes lit up. "I didn't know then, of course, but I know now." She smiled smugly.

"Well?" All expectant gazes had turned to her except mine.

You see, I knew who had done it. After all, it's hard to look up complicated Charms in the Restricted Section with friends, and concoct such a complex spell without remembering that you had done it.

Ginny shot me a sly glance. I had told her, of course, after she had found me and some other Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws sneaking back after hours. We had reluctantly explained our plan to her, and she had kept quiet.

And yet, I could keep her from spilling the small secret. (I was sure both Draco and Hermione would be incensed at me if ever they found that not only had I participated in their embarassment, I had suggested it. I was the one who had come up with the idea). After all, I had a semblance of authority in this investigation. "Why don't we wait until your turn, Ginny," I said sweetly. "I'm sure the suspense will make your answer all the more dramatic. Meanwhile, I would like to know if Sirius has any more questions."

Sirius, though, had tears leaking out of the corner of his eyes as he gazed upon his godson. He had, no doubt, already begun thinking of the boy as Harry, not doubting it. I had my own suspicions, one of them being that Sirius missed his godson so much, he would accept this boy no matter whether the boy was Harry or merely a lookalike sham.

Seeing that Sirius looked ready to cry, and not wanting him to be embarassed if everyone was staring at him when it happened, I smiled kindly at him (a smile he didn't notice) and motioned for Remus to begin asking questions, telling Sirius that "we would get back to him as soon as he could compose himself".

Remus wasn't nervous. His heightened sensory perception had probably reassured him already that this boy smelled like Harry, if nothing else. He cleared his throat and began his own series of questions.

To be continued ...