Surprised By Joy

Chapter Six // Surprised By Joy

What she encountered, though, was most definitely not the back of the wardrobe.

****

Cold and wet. The back of the wardrobe was not supposed to be cold and wet. She froze, almost afraid to turn around.

Don't be stupid, she thought. How are you ever supposed to help Harry face Voldemort if you're afraid of a silly wardrobe?

Steeling herself, she turned around.

The cold and wet had been snow. It looked like Harry might not have been hallucinating about the forest in the wardrobe.

She could see the flickering of a lamppost between the thick, snow-bowed trees. Taking one of the fur coats, she wrapped it around herself and ventured towards the light.

The lamppost itself was old-fashioned wrought iron with a tiny flame flickering in it. It was what was behind the lamppost that caught her attention, though.

A tiny cottage sat nestled cozily in the trees, lit up and looking very warm and inviting. She pulled out her wand, casting a few low-level detection charms she'd read about in the library. From what she could tell, this place was not an illusion. Strangely enough, she could detect no magic at all.

If it was a real place, then, where was it?

She looked back the way she came. She could barely make out the outline of a wardrobe – exactly identical to the one she'd just entered. She desperately wanted to go back and tell the others, but a strong compulsion to go towards the cottage took over.

She walked around the perimeter, looking for anything suspicious. She found a small greenhouse containing lemon verbena and Flitterblooms, as well as numerous plants she didn't recognize. For all that she had found no magic in the area, whoever lived here was either a wizard or acquainted with one.

She hid behind a tree, waiting to see if anyone came in or out. Nothing happened. The gaily-colored curtains stayed shut.

When her toes began going numb, Hermione realized that she had to make a choice. She could go knock on the door, or she could leave.

She stared at the cottage for a long moment before turning back around and heading for the wardrobe door. Halfway there, she seemed to find her nerve, for she turned around and ran pell-mell for the cottage. At the door, she readjusted her grip on her wand and knocked.

The door opened, letting out a breath of warm, slightly lemon-scented air.

"Why, Miss Granger! I had started to wonder if you were ever going to knock."

Albus Dumbledore crinkled his twinkling eyes in delight, looking very much alive and well. The hand that had been blackened and wizened when she'd last seen him was strong and whole.

"If I... was going to knock... You're supposed to be dead!" She swallowed, trying to quell the pounding of her heart. She felt both excited and sick, like it was the first day of school.

"Well, I've never liked doing what I'm supposed to do. Lemon drop?"

"Why are you acting like everything is normal? I don't understand. How did you do it?"

"That's rather a long story, and it's bad manners of me to leave you standing outside in the cold. Come in, have a cup of tea, and we'll talk."

Hermione, who was still gaping like a dying fish, allowed the former Headmaster to lead her inside and seat her in a cushy chintz armchair in front of the fire. There were already two cups of tea poured; hers made just the way she liked it with a slice of lemon and two lumps of sugar.

"Ah, yes. As you can see, I've been expecting you – though I did not expect Mr. Potter to enter before you. Had you been with him, I would have revealed myself. I take it you understood the clues I left you, then? No?"

She found her voice, and with it a multitude of questions. She found that she was nervously wringing her hands, a habit of her mother's that she loathed. She picked up the tea, trying to ignore the way it shook in her grasp.

"Professor –"

"A professor I am no longer. My name, as I am sure you are aware, is Albus."

"Albus, then. Tell me, Albus, why didn't you tell us you were alive?"

"What would have been the fun in that? Besides, I can't go bandying about the fact that I'm not dead. I faked my death for a reason, you know."

"What reason is that?"

"You're a bright young lady. You'll figure it out. Perhaps you should go back to that Arithmancy equation you've been working on."

"How did you know?"

"Of course Minerva knows of the situation – why do you think she let you into the library? She, and now you. There are two others, who I am sure you will find in time."

"The protector! Yes, I was looking for them, but I was interrupted. Can't you just tell me?"

"Those who would seek to take the mark of the phoenix must face their weakness. You must learn to look beyond what you see. This is all I shall say on the matter." The last was said in a tone that brooked no nonsense, and she knew not to press the matter. This sounded like a test, and if there was one thing Hermione Jane Granger was good at, it was tests.

She tried a different subject. "Where are we? What's going on with the matching wardrobes?"

"Ah, yes, the wardrobes. One of my better ideas, if I do say so myself. You are familiar, of course, with the concept of a Vanishing Cabinet?"

"Yes, it's what Malfoy used to sneak those Death Eaters into the school. It links one place to another – oh!"

"I see that you have made the connection. I simply took the cabinets he used and Transfigured them to look like Lewis's wardrobe and reset their locations. However, the entry charm is weak – you must get back before the gate closes. You will be able to come through again later today. Before you leave, though, I will have your wand-oath that you will not speak of this to anyone other than Messrs. Potter and Weasley."

She swore, and he bundled her up in the long heavy coat and sent her on her way.

****

It was still dark when she came back through, though the voices she had been concerned with earlier had ceased. She took a quick look towards the back of the wardrobe, finding it solid. She crept back down into her room, packed her bag, wrote a quick note to Molly, and Flooed into Hogwarts.

He was alive. She would be joining the Order.

It seemed like a dream. She briefly wondered if Professor Snape knew.

She also wondered why Albus hadn't spoken to Harry when she came through the wardrobe. Maybe that, too, was a part of his test. She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she forgot to keep her elbows tucked in, and as a result, she nearly fell out into the wrong grate. Way to go, Granger.

The Auror who was charged with monitoring all outside Floo calls waved her with a minimum of fuss. Once in the library, she spread her books and papers out around her, putting her formidable mind to the problem of the protector.

****

Harry Potter woke up feeling as though he had wings.

Largely because he did. He opened his mouth to ask what in the name of Merlin was going on, but all that came out was a trill of birdsong.

He heard snickering, and then he saw Ron sitting next to his bed holding a tiny vial with a dropper. He returned to his normal form, shedding feathers and a tiny yellow beak.

"What on earth is that?"

"Canary Drops. Same base as what Fred and George put in the Canary Creams, only this works by just skin contact. The Ministry won't let them sell it, but that doesn't mean we can't enjoy the fruits of their research."

"Don't ever wake me up like that again! What time is it, anyway?"

"About ten thirty."

"Jesus! Hermione was supposed to wake me up this morning! We're supposed to go back to the library–"

Ron cut him off mid-sentence. "Yeah, she was supposed to tell me what's been going on. Haven't seen her all day, though. I don't think she's in her room. If she is, she's not answering."

"That's weird. You think we should worry?"

"I am worried, whether I should be or not," Ron said with no small amount of sarcasm. "It isn't like her to not tell anyone where she's going. I was hoping she was in here with you."

"All right, let me get dressed, and we'll look for her. How are you feeling today, by the way?" Harry asked, scrutinizing Ron as he looked for his trainers.

"Like I got run over by a Thestral. I've got to go take more of that foul-tasting potion and eat some breakfast before we do anything – Mum will go ballistic if I don't. Maybe we can ask her if she's seen Hermione."

The boys got dressed and headed downstairs, Harry bringing Ron up to date on recent events. Strangely, Ron sided with Hermione.

"You know you're my best mate, Harry, but you do sound a bit mental. Even in the Wizarding world, you don't find forests in the back of wardrobes. Might've been some kind of illusion, though. We can ask Mum to check it out."

"Your mum? No offense, Ron, but I can't see your mum being very useful in this."

Ron rolled his eyes. "She is a member of the Order, prat. Besides, where do you think Bill got his love for curse-breaking? It wasn't from Dad. Mum knows some nasty curses, too. Y'know, maybe we should ask her if she can teach us anything."

Harry was still trying to sort out the fact that Mrs. Weasley was something other than Ron's slightly overbearing mother when the object of his thoughts directed him towards a chair and began piling kippers and sausages on the plate in front of him.

"You two eat up!"

"Mum, could you do us a favor and look at that wardrobe Hermione got from Dumbledore? Harry swears he found a forest in the back of the thing, but no one else has found it."

"No, dear. The wardrobe isn't for me to touch. Speaking of Hermione, though, she said to tell you that she's at the library again and that you should join her there after you've eaten."

"Okay, we will. Hey, Mrs. Weasley, Ron said you were really good at curse-breaking – is that right?"

"Well, I'm a dab hand at it, though I'm no expert – "

Her sentence ended in a girlish squeal as Mr. Weasley swept in to the kitchen and pinched her bum. Harry and Ron tried not to be sick.

"Dab hand? She's excellent – Captain of the Dueling Club and had an offer from Gringotts to work as a cruse-breaker as soon as she graduated. She didn't want to, though. We started with you lot and haven't looked back."

"Morning, Dad," said Ron, recovering enough to begin shoveling food at an astonishing rate.

Harry remained silent until Ron elbowed him in the ribs. When he found his voice, he asked, "Mr. Weasley, forgive me for being rude, but why are you wearing a hat made out of tinfoil?" He was surprised that no one else seemed to find this odd.

"Oh, this? Well, you know the Ministry sent me to stay with the Muggles for a bit. This chap I stayed next door to was telling me the most fascinating things about these hats – did you know that they would protect you from alieums that can read your mind? I figured if it works on them, it might work on You-Know-Who."

"Mr. Weasley, there's no such thing as aliens."

"But the chap said...!"

With a sigh, Harry spent the rest of the morning explaining to Mr. Weasley about conspiracy theorists, aliens, and the real purpose of tinfoil. Finally, though, Harry managed to extract them from the conversation and left to find out what Hermione was doing.

**

Surprised By Joy is a partial autobiography of C.S. Lewis. In the book, he documents his search for the phenomenon of pure joy. Ironically enough, several years later Lewis married a woman named Joy Gresham.

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