Hogwarts

It was another very early morning; this time, dawn was still three-quarters of an hour away. As we strolled up the long gravel track I my doubts and worries finally overwhelmed me. I stopped, unable to go any further.

'I'm sorry, Dennis,' I said. 'I'm certain that I left the tap running in the bathroom. The lodge might be flooded. We'll have to go back. I think that the gas is on, too!'

George, who was pushing a double buggy containing Fred and Roxy, turned and stared at me in surprise. Dennis, puzzled, glanced at my wrist, and gave me an exasperated look. 'Where's the silver bracelet I gave you?' he asked.

'Oh, I left if in the bedroom,' I realised in horror. I was desperate, and close to tears. 'I forgot that, too. I have to go back, Den. When I do, I'll collect the bracelet, I promise.'

'The lodge is miles away, Les,' Dennis reminded me. 'We don't have time to go back. It's a good thing that I have a spare bracelet in my wallet.'

'The bracelet?' I was almost screaming in my anxiety. 'That's the least of our problems. We have to leave Den, we have to go now!'

Ignoring me, Den opened his Auror-issue wallet, pulled out his wand and said, 'Accio bracelet.'

The bracelet Den had firmly slipped onto my wrist was a cheap-looking simple copper band, the sort of thing gullible people wear in the mistaken belief that it has some mysterious health benefits. The one I'd left behind was a pretty plait of four silver chains. My panic was banished the moment it passed over my hand.

'My fault, I should've made certain you were wearing the bracelet,' said Dennis apologetically as I stood, panting and gasping in confusion. 'The Muggle-Repelling Charm around Hogwarts is one of the most powerful ones I've seen. We're still ten minutes from the gates. Feeling better? Do you need a couple of minutes?'

I took a deep breath. 'Confused,' I admitted. 'Let me catch my breath.'

'The Charm was making you panic and want to leave,' Den told me quietly as. 'The bracelet will protect you from its effects. This will work just as well as the one I gave you; the Ministry provide them to all Muggle parents.'

'We were all rushing to get here,' said Angelina. 'It's just one of those things. Are you sure you're okay now, Lesley?'

'Yeah, thanks,' I assured her as my heartrate returned to normal. I took Den's hand, and we again set off for the gate.

At twenty minutes past five the promise of dawn was a slowly expanding glow on the horizon. We had congregated on a lawn in front of a plain white obelisk some fifteen feet high. The obelisk stood on a slight rise. Beyond it, stern and sturdy trees rustled in the breeze. Behind us was an impossibly magnificent castle, this was Hogwarts, Dennis' school. My initial awe at my surroundings was showing no sign of diminishing, the building was impressive enough to seem almost unreal; the centaurs and hippogriffs simply added to the dreamlike quality of the place. I'd mentioned my feelings to Den, and he'd double checked my bracelet.

'Stop fussing over her, Dennis,' his mother told him. 'I know how she feels.'

To our left, over a thousand schoolchildren in their odd-looking black robes stood shuffling, yawning, and murmuring. I was standing alongside Dennis. George, Angelina and their kids were next to me, with the rest of George's family. I looked along the line and stared at the tall, elegant, and beautiful Frenchwoman. Perhaps, I hoped, her little sister was less perfect.

A sob brought me back to the seriousness of the ceremony. Dennis' parents were standing next to him and, after her few words, his mother had turned away from me. Seeing her shoulders shake, I leant forwards and acknowledged her grief with a sad smile.

We were part of a large throng. Many were young, most only a year or two older than Dennis and I. Others were very old, and one man with a walrus moustache was extremely overweight. Dennis had pointed out several of the most important people to me, but I'd already lost most of their names in the sombre fog of the occasion.

The majority of the crowd were in black robes, but not all, almost all of the others, including Dennis and myself, were in dark suits. Muggle clothes, Den called them. Almost directly ahead, next to the obelisk, a tall black man—the Minister—stood immobile and attentive. He wore a black suit, a black shirt, and a black tie. He was the oldest person in Muggle attire. Unlike the others, however, the Minister wore a hat, a black kufi.

There were a few flashes of colour among the dark clothes. I saw two women in white saris, and a blonde in bright blue, but otherwise the colours were as sombre as the occasion. Two teenagers—a boy and a girl—flanked the Minister. They were, Den whispered, the Head Boy and Girl, and they wore the same school robes as the other kids.

As the glow on the horizon grew, the murmurs died away, and an expectant silence fell. The only sound was from the forest, where the dawn chorus was in full song. The moment the sun kept its promise and broke free of the horizon, the man in the black kufi stepped forwards and touched his wand to his throat.

'Every war has its casualties, every victory its victims,' the Minister began, his magically amplified voice was deep and sombre. 'Ten years ago today, at dawn, at this moment, a great evil was defeated.' As he spoke, the man glanced across at a serious-looking, bespectacled man in his late twenties.

The black-haired man was nursing a tiny, sleeping, bundle whose bright ginger hair poked out from beneath a knitted green hat. Next to the man was a small and curvy redhead wearing a black pill box hat. She carried one small boy on her hip and was holding the hand of a second, older, boy. Her eldest, who could be no more than four, was yawning and squirming. This, I now knew, was Den's big boss, and his family. This was the hero of the battle and Head of the Auror Office. From Den's descriptions of his boss, I had expected Harry Potter to look like a rugged action hero. He didn't, he was simply an ordinary-looking family man.

'This is not a time to celebrate,' the Minister continued, staring out over the crowd. 'This is a time to remember those who did not live to see victory, those who gave their lives to ensure that we, the survivors, can live free from the yoke of fear, bigotry and oppression. Please bow your heads and join me in remembering the fallen.' He took one step backwards, and the two teenagers in school robes stepped forwards.

'Nymphadora Tonks,' the girl began. She and the boy alternated in reading names, the names of those who had died. After a few moments the Head Boy read out the name, 'Colin Creevey.' I squeezed Den's hand and he squeezed mine back, but he was immediately distracted by his mother, who was now inconsolable.

When the last name had been read, a bell was rung. Heads remained bowed, and silence fell.

I didn't know anyone who had died. In fact, until Den had asked if I'd like to accompany him, I had known almost nothing about what he called "The Battle".

I had sensed the capitals when he'd asked me if I'd attend the ceremony with him. This wasn't simply a fight, or even a battle; it was "The Battle". Its importance to Dennis, and to everyone there, was made clear by the reverent silence which blanketed the crowd. As I stood in silence, alone in a crowd and trying to comprehend the losses they'd endured, the occasion overwhelmed me. I felt tears on my cheek as I mourned lost lives, lives given to protect others.

Two minutes later the bell rang again, and the short ceremony ended. There were no wreaths, no great speeches, just a few words, the names, and a respectful silence. As I dried my tears I thought of the poppy appeal, and realised that Colin's community had no such symbol of loss.

The second bell was the signal that the ceremony was at an end. The noise rose and people began to move as they sought out old friends. Some of the schoolchildren moved cautiously towards the bespectacled hero, apparently awe-struck by the presence of Harry Potter. I heard his name on the lips of many of the schoolchildren. It was a little after five-thirty in the morning, and I'd been told that breakfast would be served in the Great Hall at six.

As informal groups formed, I found myself surrounded by Dennis' school friends. I was introduced to Jimmy "Mighty" Peakes. He was, apparently, a professional Beater. Jimmy was a pugnacious, thickset man who carefully explained to me that "Beater" was a Quidditch position. I had to admit that I'd never seen a game. Curious Jimmy began to ask me about myself, and about how I'd met Den. By the time I'd finished the story, Den and I had become separated. Excusing myself from the complexities of a conversation that had returned to Quidditch, I went to look for him.

Everyone seemed to know who I was.

'You're Dennis Creevey's girl, aren't you?'

'Looking for Dennis?'

'Are you really a Muggle?'

I wandered for a while, unable to find him. Eventually I found myself cooing over a baby, Hugo Weasley, who was only a matter of weeks old. The little hair the tiny baby had was, like the Potter baby, as red as that of his sister, Rose, and their father. Everyone seemed to know who I was.

Ron's wife, Hermione, was one of the Muggle-borns Dennis had mentioned, and she was interested to know what I thought of Hogwarts, and what I knew about The Battle. Unfortunately, I began by telling her what Dennis and Angelina had told me, that Harry had killed Tom Riddle. I immediately realised that I'd made a serious mistake. Hermione gave me a long and forceful lecture. Harry had not killed anyone! He'd used the Disarming Spell tried to disarm Riddle. Harry's opponent had been killed by his own spell, not by Harry.

'I didn't know; I don't even know what a Disarming Spell is!' I protested when she'd finished telling me off.

She had the good grace to look a little contrite, and I was certain she was about to apologise. Unfortunately, her husband, who had been cradling their son, decided to demonstrate.

'It's easy! Expelliarmus,' he said. A quill shot out from the hand of a schoolboy who was approaching us, or more likely them. It flew through the air, trailing ink in its wake. Ron caught it, and winked at me as his wife turned her attention to him.

'Idiot,' she told him. 'Do I have ink on my face?'

'Yes,' I said. There was a trail of tiny black specks across her cheek.

At the very same moment Ron said, 'No.'

She rounded on him.

I left them arguing, and moved through the crowds, trying to find Dennis. Unfortunately, I couldn't see him anywhere. Dennis isn't very tall, and I'm not even as tall as he is. Most of the schoolchildren were a lot taller than me, and finding him in the crowds proved impossible. Eventually, I found myself on the edge of a lawn at one corner of the castle. In front of me were several large greenhouses full of some very exotic-looking plants. Curious, I approached them.

When I entered the nearest greenhouse and saw a spiky dark-red plant in the nearest corner. It appeared to be animated. There was a low fence preventing anyone from getting any closer than four feet from the plant. Fascinated, I moved up to the fence. Two vines slithered towards me, whipped back, and struck.

'Protego,' a woman's voice shouted from behind me. A silver barrier shimmered in front of me. One of the vines bounced off it, the other grazed my outstretched hand. I looked down at my finger, saw a single drop of blood, and collapsed.

The next thing I knew I was being lifted into a sitting position. 'Drink this,' A man ordered.

A cup was pressed to my mouth, and a spicy liquid touched my lips. I took a careful sip, and immediately felt better. With one more swallow, the cup was empty.

'My Shield Charm wasn't fast enough,' the woman said. 'It's a good thing you had a Poison Antidote handy, Neville.'

'Habit,' Neville said. 'I've carried one ever since The Battle, Luna. When Harry told me to kill the snake, I thought I'd better be prepared, just in case it bit me.'

'I didn't know that! Did you tell anyone else?' asked Luna.

'No,' said Neville.

'That was silly. If no one knew it was there, and Nagini had bitten you, who would have given you the antidote?' asked Luna.

Neville laughed. 'Right as always! That really was stupid of me, wasn't it?'

As my head cleared, I opened my eyes. Neville, I vaguely remembered from Den's stories, was the man who'd killed the snake. He was fair-haired, burly, and black-robed. Not even the scars on his face could make him look anything other than friendly. Luna, who was kneeling at my side, was a dark-blonde, with rather protuberant grey-eyes. She was the blonde in sky-blue robes I'd seen in the black-clad crowd.

'Who are you, and how did you get in here?' Neville asked.

'I unlocked the door, Neville,' Luna admitted. 'I saw the Whomping Willow cutting we took last year through the windows, and I wanted to see whether it had rooted properly.' She gestured towards a small but wildly waving willow at the other end of the greenhouse. 'I heard the greenhouse door open, but by the time I saw this lady, she was approaching the Venomous Tentacula.'

'Didn't you recognise it?' Neville asked me in astonishment.

'Of course she didn't, she's a Muggle,' said Luna.

I wondered if I'd ever get the opportunity to speak.

'She's Dennis Creevey's fiancée,' Luna added. I realised that if I wanted to say anything, I'd have to interrupt them.

'Lesley Anderson,' I said. 'You're called Luna, but I don't know anything else. And you're Neville, the man who killed the snake.'

'This is Luna Lovegood,' said Neville, apparently embarrassed by my comment. 'She's more of a hero than me.'

'Don't be silly, Neville.'

'You are, Luna, you always were.' Neville looked at her in admiration, and she smiled.

I tried to stand. Neville grabbed my wrist and elbow, and steadied me as I staggered to my feet. Luna pulled a wand from her sleeve, and waved it across my clothes. I watched as the soil flew from my sleeves and returned to the greenhouse floor.

'I'd better let Dennis know where you are,' Luna said. A silver hare shot from the end of her wand and flew through the door. I had no idea what was going on. 'He'll be worried about you.' She stared into my face. 'I like Dennis,' she told me.

'We all like Dennis,' said Neville firmly. For an instant I saw, not the jovial and gentle man, but a fierce warrior.

'His brother, Colin, was in my year, and he was very nice, too,' Luna told me. 'He had a talent for capturing images, for showing things how they really are, not how most people see them. His death was a great loss to Wizardkind.'

'How they really are? Is that what you think, Luna? Harry told me that he always looked either angry or depressed in Colin's photographs,' Neville observed.

'Exactly,' said Luna. 'But if Colin were still alive, and could photograph him today, we'd all be able to see a very different Harry.'

Little Roxy was asleep in her buggy, and little Fred was happily smearing his food around his face. We were eating our evening meal in a pub in Drumnadrochit, and I was telling George and Angelina about my many encounters at Hogwarts.

'Neville and Luna are a lovely couple,' I said.

George, Angelina and Dennis snorted with laughter.

'Couple?' they all said together.

'Aren't they?' I asked. 'They seemed very close.'

'Neville is married,' said Dennis.

'To the lovely Hannah,' said George, holding his hands about a foot in front of his chest.

'They're not that big, George,' said Angelina. 'Neville and Luna are friends, very close friends, that's all. They've worked together for years. The Herbologist and the Cryptozoologist, their work on Bowtruckles was groundbreaking.'

'There must be a joke in there somewhere,' said George. A Herbologist and a Cryptozoologist walk into the Leaky Cauldron and...'