Second chance

Harry walked back to the Gryffindor common room. He'd been able to convince Snape, but he was able to tap into other people's memories, so what about the others. That was a really good question. But he already had an idea about that. Why not prove his point by telling his friends the secret facts about them that could not be learnt from anyone else and that his friends had not yet shared themselves. It wasn't a bad idea, but there was only one problem: Potter knew a lot about his friends, and it was the result of their many years of friendship, but they were all very young now and hadn't formed their own personalities and interests. How will Harry understand what his friends have carried through their lives? Tell them about the patronus? They don't even know what it is, do they? About their greatest fear? Their favourite brownie? It's got to be deeper than that. But what do I know about Ron and Hermione? Only that they're getting married. Exactly! Have they fallen in love already? Or have they? At least they're actually friends. Engrossed in his thoughts, he didn't notice when he said the password to the Full Lady and entered the Common Room. It was already quiet in here. The Weasley brothers weren't here, and neither were that pair of upperclassmen. Harry glanced at his watch. It was already lunchtime, but Potter hadn't noticed. It was only now that he realised he was still in his pyjamas. He quickly ran up the spiral staircase to his bedroom, rummaged through his suitcase and pulled out a slightly rumpled but clean shirt, trousers and robe. Under the bed he found his boots. Hastily dressing and buttoning up as he went, the Gryffindor rushed into the Great Hall. There were very few children. Really, who would want to spend a fortnight in a castle that had become boring after months of study when they could spend it in the comfort of their own family? Harry often envied his friends, Dean, Neville and Seamus, because they had someone waiting for them somewhere far away, in a cosy and warm house. And no one was waiting for Potter. Even the good-natured Weasleys couldn't replace that warmth, though they tried hard. Ron was sitting at the same table as everyone else, across from George (or was it Fred?), eating chicken legs with both hands. Poor bloke! That's what living in a poor family does to people. He ate like that on the night of our placement. Although, in fact, I'd never seen so much food then, either. Not even on the Dursleys' table. How happy I was then! The brunet walked over to the table and took the empty seat next to Ron. ‘Finally!’ the latter exclaimed with his mouth full. ‘I thought you weren't coming!’ ‘Ron,’ Harry began at once. ‘We're going to need to have a very serious talk.’ ‘Is something wrong? Did you find information about Flamel?’ inquired Weasley. ‘No, it's much more serious than that,’ Potter said and immediately started eating, ignoring his friend's concerned look.