Many Questions and Few Answers
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The bushy-haired woman blinked in confusion as she stared into the man's unremarkable brown eyes, trying in vain to place him somewhere in her expansive memory. "I'm sorry, have we met?"
He smiled sadly, almost with something akin to regret emanating from his muddy eyes. "A very long time ago," he said, even as something strange began to happen.
Hermione gasped as the man's face, as his whole body began to ripple and change, his torso expanding outward slightly as his shoulders moved outward, and as he straightened up, becoming several inches taller. The grey hair receded, replaced by the presence of intensely black locks, and the eyes, the unremarkable brown eyes, cleared and became a brilliant shade of green, haunted and familiar. She felt her legs shake beneath her and she reached a hand out to rest upon the desk beside her.
"No..." she moaned, even as the proof stood before her eyes, "Not possible. It's not possible. You died!" Tears formed unwillingly as she stared in disbelief at the strong and living figure of her best friend.
He smiled, but with a sadness that penetrated every part of him. "I'm so sorry, 'Mione," he whispered, "I'm so very sorry."
The young professor simply moved forward and enveloped him into her arms, even as her tears fell onto his jacket, soaking through the fabric as she cried with happiness and shock in the arms of her friend. Long moments passed as they remained in each other's arms, lost in the memories and emotions of a time long past.
Hermione eventually pushed herself away from him, letting his warm body go as she took a step back. A wide smile stretched across her lips as she wiped away the remaining moisture, joy evident in every facet of her face. "Well, what are you doing here? Both of you, I mean," she said, correcting herself as she threw a gaze sideways at her sister-in-law.
Harry looked away, pain appearing in his eyes as he thought of his lost son, and Ginny quickly intervened. "There's been a kidnapping. One of the third-year Ravenclaws was captured in Hogsmeade."
The mirth disappeared from Hermione's features as she recalled the incident that her friend had described. "I know; Nymphadora's briefed all of the teachers and the two Head students. I can't believe someone would take Alex! He's an excellent student, he's quiet and extremely bright. I can't imagine for the life of me why someone would want..." Her voice trailed off as she looked over once more to her newly resurrected friend. He was staring off into space, completely still, save for the hands that trembled in front of him, clutched into solid fists.
"Harry?" she asked, wondering. And then it dawned on her: an epiphany, suddenly and strangely, she knew the answer. For the second time in less than five minutes shock coursed through her veins, electrifying her mind with the truth. "He's your son, isn't he?" she breathed, realizing.
A moment passed, a moment that seemed like forever with the immense weight suspended in the air between them. "Yes," he answered, softly and quietly, as if saying it any louder would be an offense.
This time, Hermione sat down, placing herself on the edge of the desk. "I..." she began, as her mind raced ahead of her mouth, "Harry, how could you stay away for so long? And you have a son? Are you married? Who's his mother?"
At Hermione's sudden questions, Ginny stiffened. She herself had been riddled with the same queries about Alex since the morning, when Harry first revealed himself to her. Another woman. Was she a witch? A Muggle? Were they married? Did he love her? At this point in her thoughts a knot would form in the pit of her stomach, as she considered and wondered who exactly might the be mother of Harry's child. It had been years since their failed romance at Hogwarts and during the War; it had been years, eons, since they had been together. However, her love for him had not simply disappeared when he had; she had carried on thinking and wishing and praying for his safe return, his safe return into her arms long afterwards. And now what made it so difficult for Ginny Weasley was that whenever she had pictured Harry Potter ever having children, it was always her who was their mother.
Always.
The look in Harry's eyes had changed since Hermione had asked her questions, a strange and difficult look that neither woman could identify. "I..." he began, hesitantly, as if unsure how to begin, "I can't tell you. And I'm sorry, but it could ruin everything."
Disappointment was etched in Hermione's features, and Ginny struggled to take in her next breath. "You can't tell us?" asked Hermione incredulously.
"No, I can't. But I can tell you that she's dead now; she's been dead for eleven years."
"I'm sorry, Harry," said Hermione, as she reached out a comforting hand to her friend. "I'm sorry that you had to lose her."
He looked straight at her now, with another alien presence in his emerald eyes. "Thank you, 'Mione," he stated softly, giving her hand a small squeeze before letting go.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door to the classroom, and all three present inside jumped with surprise, forgetting in the moments of their reunion the students that had been summoned for them.
Hermione rose from her perch on the desk and strode to the room's threshold, swinging back the door and permitting entrance to two young students waiting outside. The first one to enter was a young girl, tall and sporting hair that was cropped close to her angular features, accentuating them and giving her air of aloofness. Following her was an adolescent boy, tall and gangly for his age, with dark brown hair that seemed to have a mind of its own.
Ginny gasped when she realized that Harry had removed his disguise for Hermione, and that the two children would be able to see him for who he truly was. She turned to him quickly, panic visible in her eyes as she mouthed her concerns to him.
He smiled at her, with amusement "Don't worry," he whispered, "I'm much better at concealment charms now; I've had thirteen years of practice."
The students, meanwhile, had sat down at a table in the classroom, anxiously awaiting for either their professor or one of the two strangers to speak. Harry remarked the redness of the girl's eyes, colour that could only seem to come from many tears. He realized that he was not the only one who was missing Alex.
"Anaise, Thomas, I would like to introduce you to two very good friends of mine, Aurora Ginny Weasley and Mr..." She paused, unsure at what to call him.
"James Ryerson," Harry answered quickly, hoping that the two students wouldn't notice the fact that Hermione had not known his name.
Hermione continued, as if nothing had occurred. "These are two of my third year students, Anaise Richards and Thomas Chang. They are close friends of Alex, and they were with him in Hogsmeade yesterday when- when it happened."
It was the boy's last name that caught Harry's attention, distracting him for a moment from his quest to find his son. "Chang?" he asked softly, realizing that it was a long shot, but he had to ask. "Is your mother Cho Chang?"
Thomas looked up and met the man's murky brown eyes. "Yes, she is. Do you know her?"
Harry grinned at the young boy. "I did, long ago."
Now it was the girl who stared at the unfamiliar man before her. "Are you Alex's father?" she asked, her intense features capturing his attention.
"Yes, I am. And I- we've- come to ask you about yesterday afternoon, about what happened in Hogsmeade."
The two third-years turned to each other, both staring into each other's eyes as they relived the day previous, and their trip to the wizarding city that had gone wrong. Anaise was the first to answer Harry, breaking her eye contact with Thomas as she looked up to her best friend's father.
"It happened really fast. I mean, we went into Zonko's, because Thomas and Alex wanted some sort of prank toy contraption to set on one of the Slytherins, and I was dragged along with them. We were in there for a long time, so I think that whoever took Alex must have been waiting there for us that whole time too, waiting to take him. Alex went in front of us, because Thomas dropped his bag and I waited for him. When we stepped outside after him, he was gone." She paused, her dark blue eyes boring into the emerald ones above her. "Why would anyone want to take Alex? Why h-him?" Her voice began to falter, and Thomas reached out a comforting hand to his best friend, holding her gently and protectively.
"We don't know," started Ginny, looking down at the children seated in front of her, "but that's what we are trying to find out. Can you remember anyone suspicious around you that day, even before you made it to Zonko's? Anything else out of the ordinary?"
Now it was Thomas who spoke, still keeping Anaise's hand enclosed within his. "There was a man, I think. I mean, we saw him like four or five times while we were walking, which I thought was weird. And I think I saw him right before we went into Zonko's, standing outside."
"Do you remember what he looked like? Clothing, hair, anything at all?"
"A black overcoat, I think," said Thomas, looking to Anaise for confirmation.
"And he was tall, taller than you," added the young girl, gesturing at Harry. "He made me uncomfortable, anxious. He was really strange."
Ginny and Harry looked at each other, their eyes meeting and communicating a single thought. Nothing. No new information that would help them in their quest to find Alex.
"Thank you very much for your help, Anaise, Thomas," Ginny said, as the two students rose to their feet.
The two nodded, said a quick goodbye to their professor, and made their way towards the door, as the adults watched them go. Just as they were about to leave, however, Anaise stopped suddenly and turned back around, meeting Harry's eyes once again. "Please find him," she whispered softly, azure eyes pleading.
"I won't stop until I do," he answered, recognizing the grief and worry in her eyes. She nodded in acknowledgement, and followed her friend out of the classroom, leaving the adults silently behind.
“What now?” asked Hermione, after the door had swung shut again.
“Now,” began Ginny, gazing outside through the window at the far side of the hall, “now we need Ron.”
Hermione’s heart threatened to skip a beat as she heard her estranged husband’s name. “Yes, I suppose we do.”
Harry stared in confusion at the two women before him. “Ron? Why Ron?”
Ginny turned and grinned at her former lover with sudden amusement, and despite himself, Harry almost smiled back. “He’s the Department Head of Transportation Control. It was a new department established during the war, designed to track all unauthorized Floo Network access, Apparition, and broom flight. He might be able to tell us who was Apparating in and out of Hogsmeade yesterday.”
The DADA teacher also smiled, though it was tinged with sadness and grief. Harry remembered the son that they had lost, and his heart was filled with a sudden pain for her and for his other best friend. “Are you coming with us, Hermione?” he asked, knowing that seeing Ron would most likely bring up more than just simple feelings of friendship.
“Of course,” she answered, as she strode over to her desk, grabbing her cloak and putting away her quill and parchment. “I don’t have any classes on Sunday, and I would really like to help you find Alex. I know what it’s like have a missing child.” Her eyes met his, and he could see the determination set in her eyes.
“Very well,” said Ginny, as she strode over to the fireplace. “Do you have any Floo powder handy, Hermione?” she asked.
The young professor held up a grey container, and brought it over to the entrance to the chimney. “I have enough for all of us,” she said, as she grabbed a handful of it, stepped over to the fireplace and placed herself inside its threshold.
“Ministry of Magic!” she cried, as she threw the powder down beside her, and disappeared, leaving the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom far behind.