Fan Fiction ❯ Harry Potter and the Student of Memories ❯ freelance aide ( Chapter 2 )

“I told you they-“

 

“You told me they brought in outside help, not that someone from the Memory School would be involved!” she snapped.

 

“It wasn't my decision!” he said weakly.

 

“Did you know, though? That they brought in someone from the Memory school?”

 

Mundungus Fletcher backed away a little, turning rather pale.

 

“I think we should give the adults some time alone, don't you Harry?”

 

Harry looked away from the scene playing out in front of him, turning to look at Martin.

 

While he was staring ahead at the two adults, it was plainly clear that they didn't hold his attention.

 

Martin turned away, walking at a brisk pace. Glancing around, Harry followed him.

 

“What is the Memory School?”

 

“The American version of Hogwarts. And no, I'm not gay.”

 

Looking over, Harry noticed a definite smirk play across Martin's face.

 

“You can read minds, can't you?”

 

“Enough to know that the best place for drinks in town is a small pub around the corner.”

 

Stopping, Harry watched Martin walk. Slowly, he changed, from the youth, who could probably star in whatever movie he wanted, simply on looks alone, to a tall African looking gentleman.

 

“Harry! You get back here this instant!”

 

Things… were definitely changing, he thought.

 

Looking back, he found Mrs. Figg and Mundungus Fletcher making their way towards him through the crowd. He waited for them, on that spot.

 

“Where did Mr. Martin go?” she asked, slightly out of breath.

 

Glancing around, Harry wondered briefly how long he had been walking. The park they had been nearby while waiting for Mundungus was gone. They appeared to have traveled further into town somewhat.

 

“He went to the pub… Mrs. Figg… er, how long have I been walking?”

 

Mrs. Figg turned to glare at Mundungus. The man was intelligent enough to know, when to run away. Which is why, in the next second, the man disapparated, with a loud pop.

 

A second later, Harry found the world tilting at an angle. If not for Mrs. Figg catching him, he might have been lying in the middle of the street.

 

“Mrs. Figg, Please tell me why I feel like I've been walking for the last three hours?”

 

Carefully, she helped Harry forward, and together they made their way to the pub.

 

Which, as it turns out, was The Leaky Cauldron.

 

“How long, have I been walking?” Harry asked, weakly from where they stood.

 

“Almost three hours Harry.” Mrs. Figg answered, as she pushed open the door.

 

They entered to find the pub, exactly as it always had been. Granted, it looked a bit fuller do to,

 

“Hermione?” Harry said weakly.

 

He could see Fred and George sitting at opposite ends of a table, playing a game of exploding snap, while Hermione's parents watched nervously. Hermione was talking to two other girls, while looking over at her family.

 

One was Ginny Weasley if her red hair was any indication. And the other was…. Harry had no idea.

 

“Let's get you over to the table, shall we Mr. Potter?”

 

All Harry found he could do was nod. So many things were happening rather quickly.

 

And some were happening rather slowly, Harry thought, as they made their way to the table with Harry's friends.

 

“-so you found your way here?”

 

“Yep. More or less anyway.” The girl answered, shrugging. “I had actually been looking for-“

 

“Harry?” Ginny asked, noticing who had taken up residence in the seat next to her.

 

“Shit. You look like you had a run in with a mack truck.” The unknown girl commented.

 

“I think I might have.” He muttered, while his legs stiffened. Vaguely, he wondered which was more likely. That they would turn to stone? Or that they might fall off completely.

 

“I'll go get you something to drink.” The girl said, walking towards the bar. It took a couple of seconds, before Harry realized her accent was an American's. Like Martin, he thought.

 

“Harry.”

 

“Where have you been?”

 

“Mrs. Figg said you went missing after they picked you up.”

 

Fred and George had both abandoned their game of exploding snap, in favor coming over to see how he was doing.

 

“Here and there.. I guess.” He said, looking off towards the girl. She was coming back with a glass and a pitcher.

 

She was dressed like a muggle, although so was Hermione. With dark brown hair, framing blue eyes, a slightly rounded face, and raised cheek bones, Harry tried to resist the urge to drool.

 

And then, she tripped, spilling the, very cold, water all over most of his lower body.

 

While at first, he found it uncomfortable, he soon started enjoying the feeling. The cold water was soaking into his pants, relaxing the muscles of his legs.

 

“I am, so, so sorry.”

 

“It's fine. My legs don't feel like their about to fall off anymore, so, it's fine.” He said, relaxing back into the chair.

 

“Where have you been all this time?”

 

“Yeah, you didn't decide to go sight seeing in London now, did you?”

 

“And without us?”

 

“Alright you two. Stop.” Ginny told them. They both gave her incredulous looks, before nodding.

 

They could annoy him later. House calls were invented for just that purpose.

 

“Er, Hermione…” he paused, making sure he could talk, breath and think, without falling asleep. “Have you heard of something called the Memory School?”

 

The sound of explosions from the exploding snap game died down a little. Nervously, Harry looked around….

 

Only Fred and George seemed to be making any sort of a deal out of it.

 

Everyone else in the pub was drinking their individual drinks, or continuing their discussions. He could see two African wizards sitting at the bar.. but neither of them looked like Martin had.

 

Of course, there were also a myriad of other people, not including Tom, two crones, and five goblins sitting at a table near the door.

 

“Harry, are you listening?”

 

He looked back at Hermione.

 

“I'm sorry, what?”

 

Hermione glared at him for a few seconds, before continuing.

 

“The Memory School is a magic school in the United States, where you can learn to use magic on a mental level.

 

“Originally, the government had been involved with it, but after several deaths, they broke their ties and the school had gone into hiding, from both the government, and the wizarding world.”

 

“'Mental magic'?” he asked. “Like wandless magic, or-“

 

“No Harry. Wandless magic is simply magic done without a wand. Mental magic is taking it a step further, magic done mentally. No wand. No words. But that's only part of why the government was involved.”

 

So he could have apparated them at any time, without even using a wand?

 

“What's the other part?”

 

Hermione looked a little nervous as she answered.

 

“Well, the government was involved. While I can only guess why, they decided that simply learning to do magic mentally, wasn't as good as it sounded. They decided that teaching them to do things psychically was much better.”

 

“You mean like Professor Trel-“

 

“No. Nothing like that. Although there were rumors about psychics that could see the future. Honestly Harry, I have trouble believing it myself. It all sounds too much like what Trelawney does in class.”

 

“Um, Harry? I know this might be a stupid question, but, why are you asking?”

 

This was the new girl. Harry tried to resist the urge to say something embarrassing, but was saved.

 

“That's nothing you need to worry about.” Mrs. Figg said, from behind them. “Come Harry. We need to get you into some dry clothes. Then both Mr. Fudge and Professor Dumbledore would like a word with you.”

 

Mrs. Figg helped him to his feet, while Tom took the trunk from his hand. How long had he been walking around carrying a trunk with a cage strapped to it?

 

As much as he wanted to be mad at Martin, he found that he couldn't. This was probably the longest time he had gone without thinking about Sirius. While he might not have liked strolling around muggle London, he would make a point to thank Martin for that.

 

Numbly, he felt a slip of paper pressed into the palm of his hand. He risked a glance back.

 

“You have my respect Harry.” Martin said. Only his upper body appeared visible, before he faded from view completely.

 

No one seemed to have noticed Martin, so Harry slipped the note into his pocket, for later reading.

 

********

 

Smiling a little, he watched as they led Harry off. While it had taken half a bottle of fire whiskey to drown out the feelings of loss, and despair, Martin enjoyed what he saw in Harry.

 

He turned to leave, when someone's eyes caught his own.

 

Hermione Granger. Carefully, he focused on her nose, as he walked around them. While her eyes didn't follow him as he moved, he could tell she felt him. On what level though…. He wasn't about to try delving into the matter.

 

While he didn't know there strengths, he could tell the two others at the table had some empathic ability.

 

“Hermione, what are some of the other things students from that school are supposed to be able to do?”

 

“Read minds. Some are even said to have to the ability break the secret keeping spell. Then, they can shroud their presence, so they appear to be anything.. they…. Want.”

 

Hermione glanced over towards the table, which until a few moments ago featured goblins, in an argument over percentages.

 

Now that Martin had abandoned the illusion, there was simply an empty beer mug.

 

“Or not even be there. Their illusions can usual fool every sense used.”

 

Slowly, he reached out, tapping Ginny's left shoulder. The girl jumped five feet into the air, the other two following suit.

 

“See you at school Dawn, Ginny, and Hermione.” He said, blocking his voice from being heard by others. “Thank you for your many secrets.”