Chapter 10: Meet the Order
Harry woke up with start. Sitting straight up he turned around and tried to remember where he was. He reached over to the small bedside table and felt around until he found his glasses. Slipping them on he glanced around, jumping again when he felt Bandit's cold nose against his bare back.
That's when he remembered. He was in Fred and George's room; they were the Weasley twins that worked at the joke shop in Dragon Alley….no Diagon Alley. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, the continuous headache he had come to expect with each waking, already built up behind his eyes.
A month. He had been staying at the Burrow for a month trying to reacquaint himself with the forgotten past, which had started with name and had now advanced to places and things. His days were spent like some bezar dictionary game where they said a word and he came up with the most ludicrous definition he could, usually ending up far off targets.
He could call each of the Weasley's by name, recall their occupations and even remember a few instances he had shared with them, but that was it. For two weeks nothing else had come to him and it was starting to depress him. The cool winds of November had changed into the betting ones of December.
He had made a surprising amount of progress but he had remembered everything he could and he was still unsure of his place in the magical world or what was happening, or happened, to it. The Weasleys weren't much help, they seemed to be shielding him from the world. Even physically confining him.
He was going stir crazy. Stuck in the Burrow for "his own safety", Harry had cleaned every inch of the property and was still looking for things to do. His friends had given him a broom, which he supposedly loved to fly, but as soon as he had mounted the silly thing, he had fallen right off. His friends had looked more worried then a bruised buttocks could account for.
They weren't telling him things. Harry knew that. He also seemed to be missing more of himself since he had talked to them, physically feeling the holes now, second-guessing his actions and words. Before he could function easily, but they watched him and looked surprised when he did something simple like read a book rather then play chess with Ron. In fact they all seemed surprised each morning to find him at an already set table each morning, their wizarding paper in his hands and coffee at his elbow, like they expected him to run off and do something stupid instead of listening to them.
The weirdest reaction he had gotten was when he was confined up in his room every other Thursday night, to which he happily retreated. They seemed to expect a fight every time. To test out his theory, he insisted, over lunch, that he be allowed to remain down stairs for the next meeting, or so he believed them to be.
He was met with some resistance but he quickly pushed through staying stubborn. Light seemed to fill every Weasley's eye. It scared him a little. He really didn't care if he went or not, but it seemed that these people expected him to want to be in the mix. Ginny on the other hand was frowning, not at him but at her family. He looked at her, taking her hand and her glare softened. He vowed he'd talk to her later.
He hadn't spent much time alone with Ginny as she often disappeared through out the day and came back lighter then air. Sometimes she ignored him, others she was all over him. It was confusing especially with the transition, but he knew her better then to think that the frown was meaningless.
Latter wouldn't come until half an hour before the meeting. The two were quietly sitting in Harry's room, Ginny idly playing with his sheets while he stoked Bandit's fur.
"What was bothering you?" Harry asked, kissing the nape of her neck. She shuddered, tears blinking out of her eyes. Bandit growled deep in his throat though Harry only gave him a fleeting glance as he focused on Ginny who was apparently trying to apologize to
"You're not you." She whispered.
"What?" Harry asked confused.
"It's like something is missing from your personality. You used to rush head-long into danger, arms flailing, pretending you knew what you were doing." She coughed out a laugh and Harry realized she was crying harder.
"You used to shove your nose in places where it would get blasted off by a curse and you didn't let anyone stop you. Not even Sirius."
"He's my godfather right? The ex-con who was never really a con?"
Ginny nodded sadly.
"The worst part is we can't accept this calmer, more down to earth you. We need you to be our flamboyant hero." She shuddered with another sob. "But that's not it. You actually love me now. It's so strange." Harry was confused, even Bandit's head had perked up, his ears up and his eyes trained on Ginny. "Harry your-"
"HARRY! GINNY DINNER!"
Ginny was cut off by her Molly calling them down, the clatter of silverware and dishes background noise. Ginny stood up and fled the room to compose herself while Harry looked bewilderedly after her. He turned back to Bandit who was looking at him hopefully.
"Women" Harry smiled hugging the dog to him, scratching him behind the ears as the mutt licked his desperately. "What' with all the love boy? Is it because you know we're going to dinner?" Harry smiled and stood up, not bothering to look for a response. He stretched out and slipped on the chocolate brown button up shirt he wore over his black, long sleeved t-shirt. He had taken to wearing long sleeves when he had noticed the unusual amounts of scars on his arms. No use changing right?
He patted his leg, motioning for Bandit to follow, before shutting the door behind them. He slipped down the stairs to see a host of people there, all wizards by their dress. They were neat people. He couldn't say way but that bothered him a bit. He walked down the rest of the stairs but somehow remained unnoticed by the people.
He snuck around to the kitchen, watching them, hoping for a single memory of any of them. Nothing came to him. He did get a weird feeling from the ratty man already at the table but that was it.
"Hey Bandit." Fred and George can up on either side of his dog, George nearly brushing his elbow which would have seemed very rude were it not for his next statement. "Where's Harry?"
"Is Harry joining us tonight?" an elderly witch asked, a smile crossing her face.
"Oh good, I can't wait to see him again." Cried a purple hair witch beside her.
"It'll be nice." Agreed a graying man on the right of what looked like a biker dude. "But if all you saw is true he won't remember most of us."
The biker looked sad and even wrapped and arm around the graying man's waist.
"Potter's a tough kid. He'll get through it." The decrepit old man with a spinning blue eye huffed. He clunked over to the table and sat beside the scruffy man saying "Budge up Mundungus."
"I miss working with him." Agreed a tall black man who sat beside the crazy clonking wizard as he and the Mundungus character tore less then dignified into a chicken wing.
"He was knowledgeable in his area, but then again he had to be. I don't suppose he remembers that either?" Asked the purple haired witch.
Ron and Hermione shared a sad look.
"He's not much like the Harry we knew." Bill Weasley whispered sitting beside Charlie.
"He's gotten quiet, almost homely." Charlie added. The biker dude dropped into a chair like the world had just ended.
"There there Sirius, it's not like you and Harry won't get along any more." Molly consoled the distraught man.
"Yes it is!" Sirius cried. "I miss him so much and now your telling me he's not him?"
"He's still Harry." The gray man piped up. "He just-"
"Can't fly." The twins cut the man off.
The whole table went stock still wit the exception of Sirius and the gray haired man who were both choking on something, a chicken wing in Sirius's case, juice in the gray man's. Bandit was whining at his feet as Harry tensed up, their words hitting home. They weren't hateful words but hell, he was trying his best, and they were all mad because he couldn't ride a bucking broom? Wasn't it good enough that he could clean with one?
"Harry Potter?" The purple witch started. "The youngest Seeker in a century, can't fly?"
"Nope." George sighed.
"Fell flat on his arse right after lift off." Fred sighed as if morning a sibling rather then the talent of a friend.
"Now all he does is cook and read. We were surprised when he forced his way into this meet, though we didn't try too hard to keep him out." Ron added.
Just then Ginny came down.
"Ah Ginny." Hermione tired to break the tension. "Where's Harry? Is he coming down soon?"
Ginny gave them a puzzled look.
"Harry's came down before I did." Everyone looked surprised.
"I'm….I'm right here." Harry chocked out.
This is what they thought? Really? Fine. Just more people to disappoint.
"Sorry folks. I'm not recalling anything more. I don't know why and I'm sorry you lost your Harry but I can't help that."
Turning on his heel the apparently invisible Harry stalked out of the kitchen and into the forest beside the Burrow, Bandit at his heels.
"Didn't you see him Moody?" Sirius demanded.
"NO!" The ex-Auror growled. "I didn't see a fucking thing."
Sirius and Remus jumped up and raced out the door after Harry, leaving everyone to look at their plates in dejected guilt.
What a welcome to the wizarding world they had given him.
Mundungus on the other hand, had already slip out the door and was well on his way past the apparition wards. With a crack he was gone from the Burrow and in the lobby of the Daily Prophet. He approached the receptionist, tussled by the busy reporters rushing around, ink stains covering them from head to foot. Paper was everywhere, people grabbing them up from the floors, out of the air and handing them to other people, marking them up with quills kept in hats or belts, or folding them up into airplanes and charming them to another section.
The blond in the reception booth gave him an irritated look as if too say 'why aren't you done yet'.
"Rita Skeeter, if you please."