Crown of Splendor
Art Mulder -- 14.Oct.2002
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created
and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited
to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner
Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark
infringement is intended.
A/N: The germ of this little idea came to
me when I was re-reading Chamber Of Secrets a month or so
ago, and noticed a tiny little fact buried in one of the
diary scenes...
There's not much plot here, just a Friday evening conversation.
* * * * *
At the best of times, Harry Potter's hair could be described as
untidy, prone as it was to sticking up in all directions. Tonight it
was looking worse than normal, as Harry kept running his hand
through it as he wrestled with his Potions homework - three feet of
parchment comparing and contrasting the five major types of sleeping
draughts. Several times he'd come close to pulling out clumps of hair
as he flipped back and forth through his textbook chasing down details.
He was particularly motivated toward getting this assignment
completed tonight, as tomorrow was a Hogsmeade weekend. He had
Quidditch practise in the morning, but was definitely looking forward
to getting out of the castle in the afternoon to visit Hogsmeade.
His friends Ron and Hermione were also working silently nearby.
If Harry hadn't been so focussed on his own work he would have been
amused to see the two of them regularly stealing glances at the other.
Harry was used to working in the common room and very practised at
tuning out the general hubbub. However, his ears pricked up when
he heard the word `Malfoy' drift across the table and he dragged his
attention up from his homework to focus on his friends. Ginny must
have come by at some point -- how could he have missed seeing her
arrival? -- and was now sitting beside Hermione on the couch and
talking quietly with her. Ginny was the one who had said something
about Malfoy. Harry frowned to himself, trying to piece together in
his head what might have just been said.
Ron was quicker to jump in though, as always.
`Has Malfoy been bothering you Ginny?'
`No more than usual,' Ginny replied. `Just his standard insulting
comments as he passes by in the corridor. It's really not worth
mentioning, I just wanted to blow off some steam.'
`Someday I'd like to shut him up for good,' Ron muttered.
`Get over it Ron, he's not worth it,' Hermione admonished.
`You know he's just loves baiting us, trying to get you to lose
control of yourself, so you'll end up with a detention.'
`I know I shouldn't let it bother me,' Ginny said, `But he
can be so biting with his comments, they just get under your skin.
I can almost believe that he's enrolled in extra credit classes on
how to irritate people with personal comments. Today his homework
assignment must have been to make snide comments about worthless
redheaded families.'
Harry's Potions essay was by now lying forgotten on the table
in front of him as he listened in.
`We know that Malfoy is the worthless one,' Hermione put in, with
uncharacteristic heat.
Harry decided to join the conversation.
`Say Ron,' Harry began thoughtfuly. `Do you remember our very
first train ride to Hogwarts, when Malfoy stopped by our compartment?'
Ron nodded. `Yeah I remember. The stuck up git was looking for you,
trying to check out to the famous Harry Potter. Probably wanted
to cozy up to you and hope you'd end up in Slytherin.
Both of them shuddered at the thought.
`Right, but back then he was already going on about redheads.'
I remember he said something about knowing you were a Weasley because
of the red hair. Then he said something about some wizarding families
being better than others. I knew right off that he wasn't anyone I
wanted for a friend.'
`Yeah well, we didn't think much of Hermione on the train either,
did we?' Ron sniggered.
Hermione glared at him while Harry continued, `Well, let's got
into that, shall we? Anyway, I didn't swallow any of his rubbish
at the time, but I was just thinking now that ... well ... he might
actually be right about some families being better than others.'
Hermione looked shocked.
Harry smirked at her and said `Not like that Hermione!
I mean that I think the Weasley's are infinitely preferable to the
Malfoy's.'
Ginny smiled at that, and Harry caught her eye and winked back at
her.
`Keep talking like that Harry, and Mum will be knitting you
Christmas jumpers until you're 83,' Ron chortled.
Another thought struck Harry and he stared off into space for
a moment, lost in a memory.
`Speaking of great wizarding families. I'd like to see Malfoy's
face if he were to find out that the greatest wizard in the world was
one of those icky redheads ...'
`What? Who's that? Who do you mean Harry?' All three of them
were looking at Harry with the same question on their lips.
`Dumbledore of course.'
`Dumble- He's got white hair Harry, are you blind?' Ron said.
`I know that you prat, so will you some day, provided Hermione
or I don't kill you first for being so dense! I mean he used
to have red hair when he was younger.'
Hermione was intrigued. `How do you know that Harry? Have you
seen some old photographs of him?'
`No, nothing like that,' Harry said.
Harry looked a bit uncomfortable for a minute, and looked
over at Ginny. There didn't seem to be anything in her gaze other
than curiosity. Perhaps she hadn't seen this when she'd had it --
`It was Riddle's diary. When I had it, he pulled me into a
fifty-year old memory. Dumbledore was in the memory and he had
red hair then. I know most of what Riddle told me was rubbish,
but I don't see why he would have lied about something simple like that.'
There was an awkward silence, and all their eyes were on Ginny,
who was looking down at her hands.
`I'm sorry Gin,' Harry said quietly `I didn't mean to bring up
a painful memory.'
`That's okay Harry,' Ginny said, looking up and appearing
remarkably calm, `That was a long time ago. We can't pretend it
didn't happen, we've just got to learn from our past mistakes.'
She paused a moment, and then went on in a more cheerful tone.
`Besides, I've more or less come to terms with it. There were
some good memories then also you know. We got to fly through the
air hanging onto the tail of a phoenix, and of course there was
Lockhart getting his just reward.'
They all laughed at that memory.
`So anyway,' Ginny continued, `Thanks for telling me this Harry, it's
nice to know us Weasley redheads have such good company.
Even if the information had to come from an unpleasant source.'
With that, she started pulling out her homework and spreading
it out over the table.
Harry didn't move toward his own homework, Ginny's comment about
`good company' was still in his ears. It's true that there were a lot
of good redheads in his life, but there should have been one more ...
After a moment, Harry said, `Ginny, I don't think I've ever
shown you any pictures of my parents, have I?'
Ginny looked up at him in surprise and shook her head.
Harry stood up abruptly and said, `I'll be right back,' and strode
off to the stairs.
Ginny looked over at her brother and Hermione with an unspoken
question on her lips. Hermione met her gaze and shook her head.
`I think I know what he's getting, just wait a moment, you'll
see.'
Harry was back soon, carrying a leather-bound book.
Hermione smiled, recognizing the photo album that Hagrid had given
Harry back at the end of their first year. She stood up to make
room on the couch and gestured for Harry to sit down beside Ginny,
who was looking on curiously.
Harry perched a bit self-consciously beside Ginny on the couch.
After a small hesitation he passed the book over to her.
`Er, here ... My mum had red hair too. When you
mentioned being in good company I thought of this, and thought
that you might like to see these pictures.'
`Oh Harry,' Ginny whispered in surprise, `I didn't know you had this!'
`I ... don't show it around much. ...' After a pause he went on.
`This is a much happier memory for me than thinking about Riddle's
diary.'
Ginny opened the book and her breath caught in her throat as
she looked at the first photograph. There she saw a pretty woman
with dark red hair and green eyes -- Harry's piercing green eyes -- and
beside her a tall man with round glasses and an untidy mop of black hair.
These were Harry's parents waving up at her from the page.
`Your mum was beautiful, Harry ... and you really do look like
your dad! I've heard other people say it, but now I can see for
myself.' Then she looked up and laughed gently, `This is kind of
weird Harry, now we know what you'll probably look like in another
10 years ...'
Her laugh broke the solemn mood and they all chuckled a bit. Ron
muttered that he hoped he had a bit more hair than his father when he
got older, but then another thought struck him. `Oy Harry! This means
that you're also a member of one of those worthless redhead
families. Maybe we should get Fred or George to charm your hair to be
red!'
`Don't you dare!' Harry said, with mock outrage.
`Harry's hair is fine the way it is,' Ginny said, then blushed as
she realized what she'd just said, and hurried on hoping no one would
notice. `Now Malfoy on the other hand, would be a good one to turn
red!'
Ron and Harry roared at that idea, and immediately started
discussing how they might accomplish such a prank. Ginny was relieved that
they didn't seem to have caught her earlier slip and turned her
attention back to the photo album Harry had brought down.
Hermione was now in Harry's vacated chair, which faced
opposite the couch. As she looked up, she happened to catch sight
of the common room clock on the wall behind Harry and Ginny.
Her eyes widened and she jumped up and started shoving some books
into her bag. `It's already past 9:30! I promised Madame Pince
that I would have these books back to the library today. I've
got to run. I'll see you in a little while.'
`Er, would you like a hand?' Ron said, standing quickly.
`I could use a break to stretch my legs anyway.'
Hermione smiled her assent, and the two of them quickly
disappeared out through the portrait hole.
Ginny and Harry looked at each other. Harry smirked and rolled
his eyes after his two friends. Ginny covered her mouth to muffle
her laughter. `Do you think we'll even see them again tonight?'
`Oh certainly,' laughed Harry, as he pulled his Potions homework
across the table towards his new seat, `Perhaps one or two minutes
before curfew. But I think they may have to skip Hogsmeade tomorrow to
make up for their lost homework time.'
A companionable silence descended upon them, as Harry turned
back to his Potions essay -- one more foot to go -- and Ginny paged
through his photo album.
After a few minutes, Ginny heard her name spoken softly.
`Ginny?'
Ginny looked up from the album and over at Harry. The word
had been spoken so softly that she wasn't even sure that Harry
had spoken. His head was still bent over his essay. However, Ginny
could see that his quill wasn't moving.
`I think you have very nice hair.'
The compliment caught Ginny completely by surprise. She wasn't
sure which way to look, and was glad in a way that Harry was looking
down, as she was certain that she was blushing furiously.
She managed to stammer out a quiet `Th- Thank-you',
`Ginny, um, would you ... tomorrow that is, ... I mean,
would you like to go into Hogsmeade with us, I mean, with me, just me?'
`I'd like that very much, Harry.'
It was a long time before quills started scratching across
parchment once again.
* * * * *
Some time later Ron and Hermione climbed back through the portrait
hole. Hermione's eyes lit up when she saw that Harry had not moved
from his spot beside Ginny on the couch. Ginny was curled up with
her nose in a book, while Harry was ...
close beside her,
leaning back with his feet up, staring pensively into the fire,
his parents photo album laying on his lap.
Ron's hand on her arm stopped her. She looked over at him and saw him
with his finger to his lips. He pointed toward the oblivious
pair and shook his head. Hermione smiled up at him -- who said Ron was
completely dense? -- and gave him a quick hug before turning and
silently going up the stairs to her dormitory, seeing Ron do the same.
The fire crackled and popped, throwing dancing shadows on the wall,
as the flames of fiery red lept about.
* * * * *
End.
