Remember Me

“This is where we want to buy Polyjuice Potion at the local supermarket,” remarked Cassandra, and they walked along the road.

“If only,” laughed Hermione, brushing her fingers through her hair in an attempt to untangle it. “Here, turn right,” she said, pointing down another street.

They wandered along it slowly, taking their time. Ron and Harry were ahead of them. The Invisibility Cloak had too been left behind at Grimmauld Place.

The village looked exactly the same as it had last time they were here, although Cassandra hadn’t been with them then. The houses were as neatly trimmed and polished as before, the roads were gleaming slightly with fresh rain and Harry’s face looked down at them from every lamp post.

Again, they had come here to see Professor Garino, author of Hogwarts: A History. Hermione was firm in her belief that he would prove useful in healing the rift between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and the others had trailed along after her.

Cassandra was also fiddling with her, trying to make it more presentable. After weeks on the run with hardly any showers available it was horribly greasy, and hung down her back like a long, dirty birds’ nest.

For her, it was the worst part of being on the run. She moaned about it continually.

“Presentable?” she asked Hermione, turning to face her and holding up her long strands of hair. “Well, better than before?”

Hermione glanced at it quickly with unfocused eyes, nodded and carried on walking. “Fine.”

Cassandra caught up with her and groaned. “You hardly looked at it!”

“Yes, I did, and mine looks worse anyway.”

“Oh yeah, cause the only thing you miss about Hogwarts is the library, oh, Hermione, how do you survive without books?

Hermione frowned, shaking her head and rolling her brown eyes.

“Don’t deny it, you’re getting withdrawal symptoms.”

“Oh, shut up.”

They turned left down a street and saw Harry and Ron waiting anxiously for them outside standing outside a house with roses in the garden, a blue front door with the numbers eighty-one flashing on it and a large sign on the gate that proclaimed in large red letters, “Author Of Hogwarts: A History”.

“This is his place,” said Ron. “Not worried about any publicity, is he?”

“No, because no one apart from Hermione has read his stupid book,” said Cassandra, trying to peer in through the windows. “Shall we go in, then?”

“I’ll go first,” Harry said, pushing open the gate and stepping up to the front door. He raised a hand and knocked.

A very old, very nervous wizard opened the door at once. Professor Garino had a thick white goatee and wispy white hair that covered his head like cotton wool. He wore long ratty robes that hung off his skinny figure like a coat hanger and had a wild, animal-like look in his eyes when he saw Harry.

“Hello, Professor Garino?” smiled Harry politely. “I’m Harry Potter, and we had some questions for you, if you wouldn’t mind.”

His watery eyes darted around, first to their faces then at the surrounding village.

“Mr Potter,” he whispered. “These are dangerous times…to be found…”

Harry looked towards Hermione for help.

“We’re very sorry, sir, but you seemed supportive of Harry in the past, and we thought you wouldn’t mind telling us a few things that we’d like to know.”

Garino looked round furtively again, hesitated, then nodded. “Come in then, quickly!”

They scurried inside. They looked even more bedraggled inside his house, which was neat and obviously well-cared for. Cheerful vases of flowers were balanced on small tables, and they perched on the end of the cream sofa, hoping that they weren’t getting dirt on it.

Professor Garino came in, holding a tray with five large glasses of pumpkin juice on it. Cassandra gulped down the cool juice gratefully.

“Mr Potter,” said Professor Garino, taking a sip of his own drink. “I did not expect…there have been so many rumours…people are desperate to find….”

“Yes,” said Harry. “Sir, I was wondering,” he paused and looked at Cassandra. She seemed quite uninterested, sitting back and fiddling with her hair. She caught his eye and raised her eyebrows. “What do you know about the argument between Slytherin and Gryffindor?”

Professor Garino finished his glass and sat it down, smacking his lips. “Ah…the infamous argument…of course, it has been carried on for some time, hasn’t it?”

“Yes, and guess who’s responsible?” said Cassandra in a sing-song voice, glaring
meaningfully at Harry and Ron.

Professor Garino appeared not to have heard her. “I believe I have something…I’ll just go and get it…” he left the room again.

Ron leant back. “Merlin, you still reckon this is worth it?” he asked them. “Garino can hardly finish off a full sentence!”

“He’s one of the most famous magical historians ever!” said Hermione in defence. “And his book is fascinating.”

Ron and Harry carefully avoided looking at each other.

Professor Garino reappeared, holding a scroll of parchment in his wrinkled hands.

“Here,” he said. “A representation of Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin. “

They crowded round to see. A tall man with long red hair and beard was gazing out at them. He had thick eyebrows that slanted downwards and a short, roundish nose. Gryffindor’s eyes were a bright piercing green.

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at the picture and then at Cassandra, trying to find similarities between them. However, they were hard to find. Features must have been lost through the generations, though she did seem to have the same dimpled chin and large forehead.

Professor Garino nodded. “It started…well, historians believe, though there is no real evidence…it is so hard to find hard fact about it…anyway; of course, the main thing that drove them apart was the right of Muggle-borns to learn magic. Godric Gryffindor, being the long-time patron of Muggle rights was of the opinion they should, whereas Slytherin thought only people with pure magical blood should be taught the magical arts.” His voice had become much less dreamy now, and he held himself more confidently.

“So this it all stems from?” asked Harry. “Pure-bloods and Muggle-borns?”

Professor Garino nodded. “Both felt that they were in the right. The duel was vicious. Both fought for what they believed in and for what they thought would best benefit the school they had worked so hard to create. Of course, you know what happened next. Gryffindor won. Slytherin departed. And Gryffindor celebrated…celebrated the departure of his best friend, can you imagine…”

“He wasn’t happy,” said Cassandra softly, shaking her head.

Professor Garino blinked. “My dear girl, it has been proven that-“

“I don’t care,” she said, shrugging off years of precious study and fact. “Gryffindor wasn’t happy; he was sad, really sad. He didn’t mean Slytherin to go, he was just angry and his temper got the better of him. But he was too proud to try and see Slytherin again.”

Professor Garino cleared his throat. “Is this what you have been taught…did you use my book in lessons…”

“I haven’t been taught it, no,” said Cassandra. “But I know it.” Her dreams had shown her that much.

Harry drew the conversation back to the original topic. “Slytherin and Gryffindor have never been friends ever since, have they?”

Professor Garino coughed and shook his head. “Oh, I am sorry,” he said, catching sight of their empty glasses. “I have not been a good host…would you like some more drink…?”
He trotted off into the kitchen.

“Typical,” said Cassandra. “Doesn’t talk about the important bit.”

Harry shrugged. “Maybe he’ll say a bit more when he comes back.”

Ron sat up from where he had been lounging on the cream sofa, looked behind him and swore loudly. “Look!”

Dark, muddy patches were smeared all over the fabric.

“Why did you sit back?” screamed Hermione.

“Well, I didn’t know, did I, Hermione?”

“Can’t you clear it up or something?”

“Quick!”

“Get out the way!”

When Professor Garino came back in the room five minutes later, Ron, Harry, Hermione and Cassandra immediately sat down in the same space, covering up the dirt so he couldn’t see a thing.

“So…Mr Potter…” Garino’s voice was almost breathless. His eyes were wide. “Anything else you wanted to talk about?”

Harry frowned at the sudden change in him. Garino looked quite excited. “Well, what we really wanted to talk about was the rift between Slytherin and Gryffindor carrying on today and whether that can ever be healed.”

The room suddenly went darker; outside the window people had walked past, blocking out the light.

Professor Garino’s eyes positively bulged. “Many people have asked me that, Mr Potter, but why are you asking? The boy who, rumour has it, is the only one that can defeat the Dark Lord?”

“Does it really matter?” sighed Harry. “I just want to know, that’s all.”

“Mr Potter,” said Garino, leaning forwards and peering into Harry’s eyes. “I have heard that there was a prophecy made concerning you and the Dark Lord and we are all so curious…that, I am sure, would give us all a clue as to whether to rift could ever be healed…”

Harry frowned again. A slight trickling of unease was beginning to flow down his spine. “I don’t want to talk about the prophecy.”

“But Mr Potter, I feel…”

“The prophecy has nothing to do with this,” said Harry, annoyed. “Why do you want to know about it anyway?”

Professor Garino sat back in his chair, but Harry had had enough.

“Thank you for what you’ve told us,” he said in a measured voice. “But I think we’ll be going now.”

Over Garino’s wrinkled face a smile flickered. “You won’t leave.”

Harry stood up. “We’re going.”

Garino’s wand flashed towards the door, which slammed shut, shaking the walls.

They froze.

“What the hell are you doing?” screamed Cassandra, pulling out her wand. Harry, Ron and Hermione mirrored her action.

Garino shook his head. “You’ve been going too long, Potter. You’re too dangerous.” He shook his head. “How could you defeat the Dark Lord as just a baby? Rumour has it that you are another, darker wizard, and the world will be put in greater danger because of you.”

Cassandra snorted. “That’s daft. Harry’s good-“but she broke off as a large cracking sound echoed from the hallway, the sound of Apparition.

“Cast Stunning Spells,” whispered Harry.

But before they could finish the jinx, Professor Garino shouted, “Expelliarmus!” and their wands flew out of their hands.

Six tall hooded figures were in the living room now.

“Run!” yelled Cassandra, and the four of them launched themselves upon the Death Eaters with their fists, but bright lights flashed. Cassandra’s head jerked back as if she had been punched, and she flew across the room, landing with a thud against the wall, knocking a picture off so it fell down and hit her head. Stunned, she only dimly registered that something warm and wet was flowing down the side of her head before she began to feel someone dragging her by the hair and throwing her down on the floor. Cassandra struggled to see properly.

The Death Eaters had Harry, Ron and Hermione on the floor too, and one was pointing his wand at them. He was uttering a kind of charm that seemed to pull invisible ropes around them, binding them together.

“We’ve done it!” cackled a Death Eater. “We’ve got Potter!”

“Dunno why they make such a big thing out of him,” said his companion, aiming a kick at Harry’s stomach. “Easy, really.”

“So, where’s the Dark Lord?”

Another person answered. “They say he wanted Potter to be taken to Hogwarts if he was ever caught. Malik Grimstone’s there, he’ll know what to do.”

Cassandra felt herself being dragged up with the rest of them.

“Oh, Merlin, guys, I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have worried so much about that damn rift.”

“It’s my fault,” hissed Hermione. “I suggested going to see Garino…oh, Harry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry,” he whispered back, but Cassandra could detect a hint of fear in his voice. “We need to think of a plan, how we can-“

But then the Death Eaters holding them turned on the spot and they vanished into deep, compressing darkness. Cassandra’s last view of the house was of Professor Garino once more looking at the picture of Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin, looking quite unconcerned.

And then he vanished, and Hogwarts loomed in front of them.