What He Never Had
By Jezaray
Chapter Twenty-Five: Return to What He Knew
Harry's POV
Harry rolled lazily over in his soft cushions, stretching his arms and closing his eyes to the harsh sunlight. Despite his irritation at the light, he grinned. He was home, he had new clothes, his parents were alive and they loved him. They had taken the news of their son being the savior of the Wizarding world pretty well, all things considering. Lily had only fainted once, even if she had stayed knocked out for about three hours. He flopped over, falling out of his bed with a thump and fought against his tangled blankets. The media had caught attention of his family's return, and they had swarmed all about their castle- yes, castle, but they hadn't gotten in.
The younger Harry in him, the part that hadn't let him leave the elves didn't seem very dominant anymore. Harry didn't realize how differently he had been thinking until a while ago, when he arrived at home and got settled in. This was his element, even though he still felt a bit cowed by it all. All the years living with only the elves had left deep traces in him. He would stay up late into the night, sunlight bothered him a bit, and he was told he had a strong accent. Also, his inner instinct told him to fight, and he kept in shape and kept his reflexes sharp with a few simple exercises.
Harry finally managed to detangle himself and started pulling on clothes. He had been reliving his life for . . . twelve years now. Should he be older? Strange, he didn't feel any older than he did when he was fifteen. But those weren't the main reasons that he was grinning.
Today was his birthday.
He had moved into the room that his parents had chosen for him, it was his favorite, at the top of a round tower that strongly reminded him of Gryffindor tower. It took millions of steps to just get to the first floor, but, of course, there were shortcuts. He grinned, stepping out of the door, and step jogged the first three steps backwards. There was a dropping feeling in his stomach, and the steps flew by under him, the walls whirling. There was a pop, and he appeared near the ceiling of their large living room, falling down and landing with a thump on a correctly positioned couch. His dad had insisted trying it out first, and then they hadn't had the couch correctly placed . . . Harry winced. Bouncing back up, he walked into the kitchen, where his mother was arguing with a house elf.
"Good morning Mum." They stopped when he entered, and his mother turned and gave his a hug. "Happy Birthday Harry!" she said happily. She was ecstatic to have her whole family back together. James, who had been sitting at the table reading the Daily Prophet, stood up.
He gave his son a hug as well. "Happy Twelfth." He said, and motioned to the paper. "More about you today." He chuckled. "There's a Harry Potter Birthday Parade in Diagon Alley . . ." he broke out laughing. James had taken the news better than his wife; on the contrary, he found it amusing. Harry then caught site of a huge pile of presents in the corner. His mouth dropped.
"Whoa!"
His father laughed. There was a flap of feathers, and Harry stopped to grin wider. A tawny colored school owl settled on the windowsill, dropping a letter, and gave a hoot before vanishing behind the half closed curtains again.
Harry snatched it up, remembering the thick parchment and the green ink, he turned it over in his hands a opened it. He read it over. It was the usual letter from Professor McGonagall, with a list of schoolbooks and supplies. He realized with a jolt that Lockhart's books weren't on the list. Harry rejoiced inwardly. How many things, exactly, have I changed? Harry had some bad memories from his second year; surely most of them had been evaded. Maybe he could make this year relatively normal, knowing anything that might happen. He passed the letter on to his parents.
Lily hugged him again as James looked through it. "Standard book of spells, Grade two . . .Useful Charms Magick, by Duff Lee Bohring . . .school uniform, he still needs a wand . . ." He scanned the rest. "Hmm. We'll go to Diagon Alley later, maybe get you a few more presents. But." He said, looking up. "We'll have to wait until later, when the parade is over." Chuckling, he shook his head and passed the letter back.
Later, still Harry's POV
The three of them stood in front of the enormous fireplace, James holding the vase of floo powder. Lily held out some black cloaks. "Lots of people don't want to be seen in Diagon Alley, so we'll blend right in. We don't really want to be recognized, I don't feel like being swamped for autographs again." She frowned. The last couple times they had attempted to go to a public wizarding place hadn't gone well.
They pulled on the black cloaks, and looked in the large mirror over the opposite sofa. Harry raised an eyebrow. They looked dreadful suspicious, but he agreed that they would probably fit right in.
"Now Harry, you throw in the floo power, and step in. Say Leaky Cauldron really clearly." His father demonstrated, and Lily motioned for him to go next. Stepping in, Harry said, "Leaky Cauldron." His mother's face disappeared, and a whirl of fireplaces went by, faster and faster. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, standing as straight as he could. His elbow was hit roughly, and he tucked in tighter before coming to a stop. The loss of momentum swung him forward, and he stepped out, catching himself.
The Leaky Cauldron goers kept to themselves, peering curiously out of the corner of their eyes at them. Harry pulled his cloak further over his head to be more covered in shadow. Lily appeared after him, stepping with ease out of the fireplace and shaking the soot off. Together they started for the brick wall, passing Tom at his counter. He leaned over, attempting to start a conversation.
"Great parade earlier, eh?" he said, and Harry almost ran into his parents as they stopped to talk.
His father shrugged, and said in a voice slightly gruffer than usual. "We didn't go."
Tom's eyes squinted as his brain whirred. His thoughts were clear on his face- what kind of people dismissed Harry Potter like that and wore black cloaks? Deatheater supporters, that's who. Then he nodded. "I actually didn't go out myself, but it was great business. Everyone stopping through here." He started washing the countertop. "Just Diagon Alley for you today?"
James nodded, and Tom smiled, dismissing them by turning to get water.
Outside, the stopped in front of the large brick wall. James gave a brief undertone instruction on how to open it, tapping. The bricks moved apart, and Harry gazed in. It was just as wonderful as ever, bright, bustling, wares and storefronts and all manners of strange people.
Smiling under his cloak, he let his mother pull him along. They passed Gringotts. "That's the wizarding bank, Gringotts." Harry's father said, pointing slightly. "We'll go there another time, we already have money so we can go straight and get your robes." They strolled into Madam Malkins.
The store was empty; Madam Malkin sat reading an outdated version of Witch Weekly. She looked up as they walked in front of her, and stood, tossing the magazine to the side. "Well, there you are. Customers. Everybody's left after this morning, I haven't gotten many people in here, they all came before. Step right here." She motioned, and Harry stepped up, taking off his hood. Madam Malkin didn't recognize him she simply went on. " Hogwarts?"
"Yes ma'am." He said, and she measured him, quickly put together all his clothes, and packing it up. James paid for it, and they left without another glance in their direction.
"Where to now?" Harry asked, and Dad pulled the letter out, looking at it. "Let's go to Flourish and Blotts for your books, then Ollivanders. Then we'll see." Lily gave her husband a stern look that Harry couldn't decipher, barely peeking out from underneath her cloak.
Flourish and Blotts was just down the street, and Harry entered cautiously peeking around. There store was crowded, it was hard to see anything- and then he got a glance of a mouth of pearly with teeth and a laugh that was just all too familiar. Harry cringed.
He edged around the sign, "Gilderoy Lockhart, will be signing copies of his autobiography, Magical Me, today 12:30 pm to 4:30 pm." He almost tripped over it and his hood just barely stayed on; he pulled it tighter around himself. His father leaned down, catching his shoulder.
"We can't get around in this mayhem." He said loudly over the noise. "Just wait here, and your mother and I will split up and get your books. Back in a minute, DON'T MOVE." He orders and shoved his way through. Harry was shoved roughly, and he edged behind the sign, watching the crowd swirling around. A loud voice emerged from the chaos, and he immediately recognized it.
"It's Gilderoy Lockhart!" It was Mrs. Weasley! He turned around, craning his neck. The heads of bright red hair stood out even in this kind of crowd. Harry smiled to himself.
Ron was there, Ginny, looking apprehensive, Percy, Fred and George, and Arthur. They stood, peering over heads. "It's lucky we didn't come this morning, because of the parade. We might have missed Lockhart!"
Harry stepped around the sign, and stopped. They wouldn't recognize him yet . . . they had never met. And his father had told him to stay there . . . Someone brushed by, and Harry's skin crawled in recognition.
Draco Malfoy and his father Lucius stopped in front of the Weasleys. Lucius was casually holding a very familiar book in his left hand. Everything was about to reenact in front of him, with or without him being part of the picture. In a silky undertone, they started talking, and only snatches were understandable.
Harry stepped forward, and walked discreetly closer.
". . .All those raids. I hope they're paying you overtime . . ." Cunningly, Lucius's hand snuck out and reached for Ginny's cauldron.
Rushing up, Harry stepped between, as if in a hurry. Mr. Malfoy stumbled, hand knocked out of the air.
"Sorry." Harry murmured and continued. The Weasleys laughed as Lucius barely caught his balance, grabbing on to his son, undignified for once. The Weasleys were beside themselves with laughter, and Lucius looked livid. He looked after Harry, but Harry had already snuck around and taken up his position next to the sign. Draco simply looked alarmed, and he edged away as his father let go of his sleeve.
Harry got a shock when someone touched his shoulder, but when he turned around it was only his parents, laden down with schoolbooks. "Come on, let's go get these paid for." The pushed passed the long winding line and paid. Harry wasn't aware that the Weasleys were right behind them until they got outside, and their boisterous voice boomed down the side of the alley.
Hearing talk of the Malfoy and the situation behind him, James couldn't resist turning around. "What was that? Sorry, I couldn't help over hearing about Malfoy."
The twins started on about the look on his face at being run into. James laughed. "Who ran into him?"
Harry could feel himself turning red, and he inched behind his mother. They were talking about him.
"Oh, some little guy in a dark cloak- him!" they had spotted him "Oh, sorry." Fred- or George said, realizing what they had called him. Arthur Weasley stepped forward, extending a hand.
"Arthur Weasley." He introduced himself.
James laughed, having of course recognized them, they had known each other, and had met again at Harry's Baby shower. He shook his hand, and pulled him behind a large sign that said "Free Gulpin Gator Ice Cream!" and picture that was less appetizing than the name. The others followed, and James took off his hood. "James Potter." He said, and their jaws dropped. Mrs. Weasley leapt forward and gave him a hug. "When you disappeared, we were beside ourselves with worry!" she exclaimed. Lily took off her hood with a flourish, which started a whole other hug fest.
"Who's this?" Mrs. Weasley said questioningly with a familiar twinkle in her eye.
Harry took off his hood as his mother gave him a reprimanding look. "I thought we told you to stay by the Gilderoy Lockhart sign!"
Harry looked sheepish. Ron and his brothers were looking at him in surprise. "Wow, it's Harry Potter." They sounded impressed.
Harry extended a hand. "Nice to meet you." One by one they shook it, and Harry was reminded of a time when Fred and George had shaken his hand, and found it ridiculously hilarious . . .
Ron tugged insistently at his mother's sleeve. "Mum!" he said.
"Yes Dear?"
"You mean to say-" Fred or George said.
"That you know the Potters, all this time, and you never told us?" Said George or Fred.
"And you never told us?" repeated Fred or George.
"Well." Mrs. Weasley said. "They were after our time at Hogwarts, but we met through mutual friends. You were all at Harry's baby shower."
"Cool."
Harry was feeling slightly uncomfortable. They were treating him differently, not really talking directly at him.
"Harry's going to Hogwarts this year." Lily said, and Mrs. Weasley struck up a conversation with her.
"Hey Harry." James turned to him. "Here's some money, how about you get your wand, just walk in." James cave him some galleons, and Harry nodded, going off while pulling his hood over his head.
Going down the street, he went into Ollivanders, which they had passed before. Walking in, her breathed in the familiar old scent. It was quiet and finally someone stirred, and Mr. Ollivander came walking out of the stacks of boxes. Harry pulled off his hood.
Ollivander looked at him. "Harry Potter . . ." He simply nodded. Handing Harry a wand, without questioning Harry swung it though the air to no response.
Several minutes later, they were still going through boxes upon boxes, and Harry was becoming impatient. He wanted to get back to his parents while he could still talk to the Weasleys. As Mr. Ollivander grumbled to himself among the boxes, Harry called out, "How about something with Holly? Phoenix feather?"
Mr. Ollivander turned to Harry. "Mr. Potter, it is the wand that chooses the wizard."
Harry nodded. " I know."
"If you think so." He looked under a couple boxes. "Oh look, there's one with holly AND phoenix feather." He pulled out the box and opened it, holding it out to Harry. Harry reached in and pulled out a very familiar looking wand. Lifting it up, an array of multi silver sparks fluttered down over the table.
"Huh." Mr. Ollivander said uncharacteristically, picking up the box. "Holly and Phoenix feather, eleven inches." His eyes glazed over. "I remember this wand . . ."
"Well-" Harry said, reaching in and pulling out his gold. "Thank you." He paid for the wand, and took the box.
"Harry . . ." Mr. Ollivander narrowed his eyes slightly. "How did you know this wand would choose you?" Shaking his head before getting an answer, he continues. "Lucky guess. But still very curious." His voice took on a different tone, and Harry understood the double meaning behind the words. "Very curious."
Harry didn't ask, simply walking out and striding down the street to the Gulpin Gator sign. His parents were there alone, and he felt a twinge of disappointment. He walked up to him, holding up the wand in one hand.
"All we need is potions and transfiguration supplies." Lily said.
James grabbed Harry's sleeve and gave her puppy dog eyes. "Why don't you go get those, and we'll meet you at Quality Quidditch Supplies?"
Lily sighed, defeated. "Fine."
James grinned, and grabbed a handful of galleons, pressing them into Harry fist. "Spending money." He said with a laugh, and within seconds all packages and bags and been laden onto Lily, and the two were halfway down the street.
The door to Quality Quidditch Supplies came open with the sound of a bell that wasn't there, and James pulled Harry through, and they started walking down the aisles. Several books caught Harry's attention, and he picked them up. James yanked on his robe and pulled him farther, behind the glass storefront window. He gestured.
"Look Harry. The newest broom, the Nimbus 2001." It was shiny and beautiful, sleek body and even twigs. "Barely out . . . last Sunday, or something like that." They stood looking at it. "Want it?" James said abruptly.
Harry blinked. "Really?"
"Yeah, well, I'll get to use it, but I'll definitely buy it for you. Birthday present. I said we'd get more, right?"
Harry hesitated, but his need to fly again overwhelmed his feeling of not wanted to take advantage of his parents' enthusiasm. Grabbing one of the few Nimbus 2001s, the books Harry had chosen along with some broom care products on the way James got in the sales line, which wound all the way back to the store. "You can look around while I wait." James said. "Just don't stray too far."
Harry nodded, walking back through the handle polish aisle. His parents were obviously spoiling him . . . which might have bothered him a bit, but he was so glad to HAVE parents to spoil him, and give him a birthday.
Harry smiled as he ran a hand down the cool metal shelves. It was, in truth the one thing he had always wanted but never could have had. And here he was, his dream come true.
Harry leaned against the window, looking out across the street at a small grungy sign, 'Edel Eamon's Exoticites'. Harry blinked. Exoticities? What that even a word? Something about the store intrigued him. Harry looked back. James was still at the very end of the queue. Making up his mind, he slipped though the ringing door and walked across the street stepping between people. The front door was closed, but Harry found it open as he pushed his way inside.
The interior was dark, all shelves crude and a bland wood color. Tables went all around the room, and as they exhibited their contents. Harry felt that maybe the store would have better belonged in Knockturn Alley. The room had a mysterious, yet familiar air to it. The floor was bare, and he couldn't see any back door. There was no shopkeeper, so Harry went around the room, not touching.
Light glanced off metal in the corner of Harry's eye, and he looked over to see what it was. It was finely crafted light elven armor, with twists of leather through lacings. He recognized it as some of the older warriors carried some from time to time.
"I see that you've found our elfish section." The voice was so loud and sudden in the still shop that Harry jumped, looking up. A store cleak had suddenly appeared, with creepy eyes that studied Harry intensely from a wrinkled, scarred face.
"Er, yeah." Harry said.
"This is all hand crafted by the elves, traded for something or another. That's what I do, trade. We have giants wares-" he motioned to the other corner where a giant's dagger stood on display. "And more." He stopped speculatively, looking at Harry. "I get all sorts of strange folk in here." He said. "You don't like to show your face, do you." He stated abruptly.
Harry shook his head in agreement.
"I'm Edel." The man held out his hand. "Edel Eamon, at your service. This is my shop, have a look around. You look interested in elfish items, do ye have any experience with them?"
"Kind of." Harry said, turning back. He found an amazing set of perfectly honed knives, sharp, out of elven steel. Harry picked one up, and flipped it expertly, catching it at the handle. The shopkeeper looked impressed. Harry unfurled his fist, looking in where James had placed the gold galleons. 'Spending money' James had said. Harry stood undecided, looking down at the money.
Harry closed his fist and walked further, glancing along the tables. He came along a beautiful clear stone. It was large, the size of Harry's fist, roughly hewn and irregular. Some spots were slightly milky, the rest completely translucent. Harry picked it up, feeling it's weight.
"An Irenuale stone." The shopkeeper said. "Also elfish. I wasn't sure what it's worth, but the elves but great importance in it. Nobody wants it because it doesn't DO anything."
Harry nodded and walking back. Picking up a leather bag, which was flipped over displaying the set of elven knives strapped to the inside in attached sheaths. "I'll take this." He said, inspecting it. Everything was in good condition, and he gave the shopkeeper a galleon. Edel gave him some knuts and Harry ran his fingers over the familiar textures before sliding the bag over his shoulder and tucking into his cloak.
Edel shook his hand. "Good luck." He said, looking at Harry. "I'll tell you what. I'll throw in the Irenuale for free, as you've been the only customer in here all day. What do you say?"
Harry shrugged and nodded. It was important to the elves- it probably wasn't wise to turn it down. He picked up the stone and slipped it into the knife bag. Harry looked up, seeing his father outside the window on the other side of the street, looking around confused. Nodding to Edel, Harry rushed out the door and slipped into the shop behind his father, walking up. "Dad!"
James turned around, looking relieved. "If I had lost you, you mother would kill me." He gave Harry an evil look, and Harry grinned impishly back. "You're too mischievous for your own good." This made Harry laugh, knowing a bit about his father when HE had been in Hogwarts. Together they walked out the door, almost running into Lily, carrying even more packages then before, which were promptly dumped on them.
"I ran into Minerva McGonagall." Lily frowned. "I asked, and she said that no gryphons were allowed at the school."
"Oh." Harry said.
"How about an owl, for Harry so that he can owl us?" James said from under a pewter cauldron. He clung to Harry's new broom, intent on holding it.
"That's a great idea!" Lily beamed. "The Magical Menagerie is down that way . . ."
"Wouldn't Eeylops Owl Emporium be closer?" Harry said quickly, remembering Hedwig. Would she still be there, after a year? Might she still be at the Emporium? Right now he would give almost anything to see Hedwig, who had always been there no matter what happened to him.
"That may be." Lily said, and they went in the opposite direction down the alley. The three hooded figures walked down and entered the popular owlry. Harry looked around, scanning the cages for a familiar face. He walked down all the aisles, peeking into every enclosure and looking back onto every perch. There were no completely white owls at all, and by the time he had reached the last cage, Harry felt like he had lost his best friend, which he practically had. Edging up on the saleswitch, Harry touched her shoulder.
"Do you have an snowy white owls?" he asked.
The saleswitch turned to him, and shook her head. "I'm sorry no, we don't get many snowy owls, and they don't stay long. We have black ones, perhaps you would be interested in one of those?"
Harry shook his head dejesctedly. "No thank you."
He felt a hand come down on his shoulder. His was his father, who had been watching him all the while. "You really had your heart set on a snowy owl, didn't you?"
Harry nodded his head. "No, not a snowy owl, THE snowy owl."
His dad seemed a bit confused, but Lily seemed to think she understood. "I know what you mean, I had a cat like that when I was younger. So nothing here for you? Why don't we go to the Magical Menagerie and see if we find anything?"
Harry nodded. "Ok, thanks." Miserably, he walked down the street, following his parents to the Magical Menagerie. He didn't really feel like getting anything. Walking in, they looked around everywhere, there were rats, toads, more owls, cats ("Why don't you get a cat, Harry, cats are sensible." said Lily). Harry shook his head.
"I have an idea!" said James.
Harry felt slightly guilty fro making them run around, they just wanted to please him. "How about we transform Fury into a cat?" James said.
Harry grinned. "That would be nice . . ." he trailed off.
Lily sighed, and her shoulders sagged. "Fine." Then she gave a playful smirk as well. "They never said anything about gryphons transformed into cats, did they?"
Hours later
Harry sat on his new trunk, complete with golden initials shining in the dark wood. They were all sprawled in the living room, as Harry's birthday drew to a close. All his presents had been brought upstairs, and remembering his knife collection he slipped it under his mattress. His parents probably would react strangely to him with knives . . . Harry desperately wanted them he wasn't quite sure why. There was something secure and comfortable about having an elven knife hidden somewhere on you.
And why wasn't he telling his parents about him being a time traveler? What was the point? He'd had to talk himself out of it several times, and he still didn't know much of what was going on. He might, eventually, but it didn't feel like the time. Right now, he just wanted to enjoy their company.
The doorbell rang, and Harry jumped up to go see. He opened the door a crack, and peeked out, laughing when he saw whom it was. Sirius and Samantha stood on the doorstep, hand in hand, with gifts in (other) hand. "Harry!" Sirius kicked in the door, and it slammed loudly against the wall.
"Sirius!" James yelled from the other room. "I know that's you!"
"Not my fault! I don't have any hands free."
"Yeah, that's only because he's got the other-" A hand came over his mouth, stopping him from going on. Harry 'humphed'and then bit.
"Harry!" Sirius said, letting go. Samantha laughed, and Harry quickly apologized. They walked into the other room, Harry jumping excitedly on their heels. Sirius had visited a couple of times during the months he had stayed with his parents, from the joyful reunion . . . Harry was happy to see his godfather the way that he once was, full of light and humor. He didn't have that heavy past lying on his shoulders, the dark eyes and the lank hair. The way that he should have been, since now he was obviously never accused of killing Harry's parents. Peter was a known traitor this time, and he couldn't venture into public places, there were orders to attack on sight. There had been several sightings of him, and there was a search in progress but no great progress had been made, yet.
"What do you have for me?" Harry nagged, bouncing.
Sirius pointedly ignored him and turned to Lily and James. "Nadine couldn't come, but she sent a card, and some sweets from Honeydukes." He passed them over, then turned to Harry. "So what did you do today Harry?"
Harry sat down on the floor as Sirius sat down next to his parents. "I got my Hogwarts letter, and we went to Diagon Alley by floo." He said.
Samantha smiled. "I knew that you'd be getting that sometime soon. Hey, you're one of us Potters. Of course you've got one."
Sirius rolled his eyes. "Did you get an animal, an owl or something?"
Harry's spirits fell as he as reminded of Hedwig. "No." he said sadly, and his parents exchanged glances.
"I was hoping you hadn't." Sirius said jumping up and going into the next room. Harry watched curiously. What?
Sirius came hurrying by in, carefully carrying a large cage. He held it up. "I got him from a friend who did want him anymore." Sirius explained. "Only got him last year, and they didn't get along very well." He looked at Harry for a reaction.
Harry's face broke back into joy. Quietly he reached out to open the cage. "This is the most wonderful gift you could ever have given me." he said, and then added. "And Hedwig's she's a her, not a him." Hedwig flew right to his shoulder and they left the room.
Voices trailed after him. "How did you know he wanted a snowy owl?"
"He did?" Sirius said, surprised.
Harry sat on his bed with his legs folded underneath himself, stoking Hedwig's feathers. She looked at him with large amber eyes, sitting on his arm.
"She's a very intelligent owl." Came a familiar voice from behind him. "I believe she remembers you."
He turned around. Camellia stood in the doorway, looking at him with a smile. He smiled back. "Is that possible?"
She nodded. "Sometimes. Some animals are just naturally tuned into time travel and such things. Owls more than most."
Harry looked at Hedwig. She ruffled her feathers and inched along his arm. "I think you're right." He said.
Camellia came in and sat down next to him. For a moment they didn't talk. "So you came." He said. "Am I going back to my time? Did I do what I came here to do?"
He looked at her. Slowly, Camellia shook her head. "When you first came here, nothing had changed and the future was still the same. You've done everything you could, and changed what was to happen. But you'll never go back to where you were, what you refer to as 'your time' is gone. All the changes that we made by going back in time rewrote history, so your time doesn't exist anymore. You'll have to completely relive your life, but in your case that might be a good thing."
Harry let this sink so. "So I'll be in this body forever? I'll never go back to the body that I came from?"
Camellia nodded. "Well, you never really had two bodies. It's the same body, just younger. It's just the time that is different. And you've managed to save your parents, and change the course of events that could lead to Voldemort winning the war. That doesn't mean." She said, giving him a pointed look. "That everything is secure. It means that everything is undecided, and we have a chance. We're fighting all we can against the Dark Lord. It's our job."
"Who's job?" Harry asked.
"The First, and the rest of the thirteen. In times like these we use what we can to our advantage. Our people have been doing it for centuries." Her eyes twinkled. "You're like one of us now, after all you've done."
Harry hesitated. "Should I tell my parents?"
She shook her head. "No. It's one of our rules; time manipulation and our other actions are not revealed to anyone else. So it has been for millennia. You might want to tell them though." She smiled. "About your little werewolf adventure. The rest is up to you."
"Oh. I have a question though." He said. "How old am I? I don't feel like I've aged at all. And what about the other Harry, the younger one in my head?"
She blinked, surprised. "What other Harry? Oh!" she said. "I get it. I don't think you understand. First of all, about your age, you don't feel like you've aged, because you haven't."
He blinked. "Er . . ."
"What confused me about your question, 'the second Harry in your head', is because there isn't a second Harry. You are the same person, and what you're viewing as a second Harry is really your second set of instincts that you gained from reliving your life. It may seem to you that it was a takeover, coming into your body. It would be, if you had entered the body of another person, but it's not. You're the same person, all that traveled back in time was your memories, your conscience awareness of them. So, in truth, you are eleven. When you were one day old, you really were one day old. But having the memories from you're other life made you BELIVE that you were fifteen, but they're not all that dominant. You feel like the same Harry, because you are. What you thought was a second Harry, that's you, the one that thinks, that I'm talking to right now. You ARE eleven."
Harry widened his eyes. "Wow! I didn't know that . . .?" That was weird to think about. It felt weird, all this time what he had viewed of as being the other being had been him all along.
Camellia smiled. "You should have seen the looks on your parent's faces when I came walking through the door." She got up gracefully and walked back through the door. "Oh Harry."
"Yeah?"
"Happy Birthday."
Harry looked out the window. Everyone was still downstairs, in the living room. Putting Hedwig on the windowsill, he flew down the stairs and landed on the couch, almost beaming Sirius in the head. His godfather's mouth dropped open. He stared at Harry, and then looked up questioningly. "Where did you come from?" he asked.
Harry laughed, but didn't inform him. "You'll never know . . ." he said mysteriously.
Sirius cocked an eyebrow.
"Another one of the weird quirks of this house." Harry explained.
"Oh, like the oven . . ." Sirius trailed off.
Harry didn't ask. "Um, guys." He said nervously. That caught their attention. "I kinda need to tell you something."
They settled on the couches, catching the tone of his voice. Camellia smiled and nodded encouragement. They gave her an interrogating look.
That reminded him. "Is Remus here?"
Sirius shook his head regretfully. "No, tonight's the full moon. He really wanted to come, and he said that he'd make it up to you as soon as possible."
Harry nodded. "That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about."
"What is it, Harry?" Lily asked, looking slightly concerned.
"Well . . ." he looked over their faces. "Mum, we've talked about how you're not really normal-human normal-like completely, you know? And you told us all about the Dark Pact between the dark creatures. Well when I was kidnapped from Hogwarts- apparently," he added. "I've been told- by the people who I ended up with, that I was rescued by a pack of werewolves, because of the fact that I have this pact protection, just like Mum, that the other dark creatures in the area wanted to rescue me. And when they put me down, one accidentally bit me."
They stared, not saying anything. Their faces looked shocked. "Did it . . ." Lily said softly.
"You haven't changed during the full moons that you've been here!" James protested.
Harry nodded. "I know. It's weird. I guess it only affected me at all because I'm wizard, too. But it depends, sometimes I change and sometimes I don't. I don't really know why. Something about me being able to shift between being human and not human."
Sirius choked slightly. Harry looked at him, worried.
"Do you think it will happen? What happens if it does?" James asked.
"I've never hurt anybody." Harry explained, turning away from Sirius, who was turning purple. "I just like running the woods."
"And you didn't tell us?" Lily asked.
Harry blinked. "It's not that I don't trust you, it's just that I didn't really think about it. I haven't changed since. . ." he searched for a number. "I had to have been a couple years old, only. But I don't know if it, lycanthropy, will come back."
James nodded. "All right, we'll keep an eye out, and warn Dumbledore. Maybe you grew out of it or something."
Sirius breathed.
Days Later...
Harry wandered along, pushing through people. His father was shoving the trolley, and his mother walked next to him as she led the way to platform nine and three quarters. He already knew what it was, but they didn't know that. He followed her.
Hedwig was in her cage, and his chest was all packed. Harry had placed several of the smaller elven knives- one was tucked inside his boot with in a small leather half sheath, another was in the small of his back, and several ducked and hidden under his clothes. He didn't suppose he would need them, but something felt good about having them next to his skin.
A brief explanation and they had pushed through the barrier. They were late; the platform was emptying rapidly as people piled onto the Hogwarts Express. Lily gave him a hug, as James picked up his stuff. He grabbed Hedwig's cage and lugged his chest along as he stepped up to the scarlet train.
"Good luck!" Lily said.
"Have fun!"
"Don't forget, you have to sign up to come home for Christmas. Oh, and don't get into any trouble."
"At least," James said with a wink. "Not before you learn anything useful." Lily gave him a glare.
Harry grinned and waved as he stepped up and walked inside. Every looked larger, he was smaller since he had last been here. And usually he'd had trouble with the weight of his chest, but even with everything he had put in there, he carried it easily. Elven training, probably. He was stronger now.
Looking into compartments, he looked for someone he knew. Harry stopped. Oh yeah, I DON'T know anybody. Surely Ron or Hermione must be here somewhere, and he could just go in and meet them. But he didn't see them anywhere. Finally, after walking back a forth a bit he came upon an empty compartment and sat down alone.
"I'll find them later." He murmured to himself. He thought back to what his parents had said, and smiled. Everything was perfect. Settling back, he pulled out one of his schoolbooks and flipped idly through it.
Hours later, the Hogwarts Express pulled into the Hogsmead station, right in front of the school. After dragging his stuff out, he started pushing his way through the crowd trying to get somewhere. To his surprise, he bumped right into Dean Thomas.
"Oh, excuse me." Harry said instinctively as he almost bowled the larger boy off his feet.
Dean regained his footing, and looked casually over Harry's head for someone. "That's okay. First years go over there."
"I'm not a first . . ." he trailed off, Dean was gone. Oh well, had he, himself, ever paid any attention to first years? No, not really.
Someone grabbed his shoulder. "Harry." He turned around, it was Professor McGonagall. She pulled him along. "Come this way, you can take on of the carriages with us. Unless you prefer to go over the lake?"
Harry shook his head. "Carriage is fine."
She nodded. "Do you need any help with your luggage?" she asked, eyes on his load.
He shook his head. "No, I'm fine."
He climbed aboard the first carriage; some lady and Professor Flitwick were already in there, comfortably seated. They greeted Harry, asked him a bit about his parents but then no more was said.
As they pulled up in front of the huge school, McGonagall motioned for him to follow her again. "Snape went to greet the first years." She said with chagrin. "Poor things. I hope he doesn't terrify them TOO much. Instead I came out to collect you. We'll keep you separate and sort you last. We've never had an exchange student or anything of the sort before."
Harry nodded and cringed as he imagine wet first years getting off the boats, terrified by the sorting and then running into Snape with his glare and dislike for first years- McGonagall had been bad enough with her stern gaze, he couldn't imagine what Snape was like with his evil glare of hatred.
Most of the staff was already at the staff table, and McGonagall placed him to the side out of the way as the older students filed in and took their seats. Harry looked out over them with a mental cheer. Never was he happier to see their faces- even Draco was over at the Slytherin table, looking cocky and arrogant. There was Ron! Sitting next to Dean Thomas, Parvati Patil, the rest of the current second year Gryffindors and his brothers, who were looking as mischievous as ever. Even Percy was there, back straight as a board.
The first years came in the side door led by Snape, eyes wide with horror. They huddled in the front of the room, and McGonagall resurfaced with a list and the school sorting hat. Placing it down on a stool, the old ragged hat open it's brim and sang in a loud croaky voice;
'Hopes, wishes, desires and dreams,
From every Wizarding boy and girl
Fly south, borne on owl wings
And drop down to houses awhirl.
They of the magical folk,
Lighting candles with a swish,
Try me on with shaking hands
Knowing not what they wish.
Some I will place in house Hufflepuff,
The loyal, kind, and without greed.
They spew kind words at every turn
And cannot do a bad deed.
There are others there of Ravenclaw,
Through and through they only fit
To be placed with those of knowing,
Dedication, quickness, and wit.
And yet others, standing up tall
Show characteristics instead
Of proud, mighty, Gryffindor;
Strength and courage of the lionhearted.
Cunning, crafty Slytherins may be.
Many among them there today
With true mastermind and will to show
They let none or nothing get in their way.
So if you be in your selected house
Or another, don't fear
You will be with those just like you,
For no aspect is unclear.
Each student has a house and houses their students,
And for thousands for years, these houses have been
Ravenclaw ravens, Gryffindor lions,
Badgers of Hufflepuff, and snakes to Slytherin.
The grand hall broke into applause, and the first years looked relieved. The sorting ensued, as one by one a student was called forth by McGonagall to try on the hat before retreat to their houses in relief. Finally, after several names and faces Harry recognized, all the first years had a house.
Dumbledore stood up, and every head turned to his direction. Dumbledore shot a glance in Harry's direction, and his stomach flip-flopped.
"So, thus all the first years have been sorted. But, alas, we have one more to sort."
There was a collective blink of surprise. Then conversations broke out, with several dismayed explanations. To his amusement, he recognized one as Hermione.
"But there have NEVER been anyone sorted after first year, or exchange students, never in history! It SAYS so in Hogwarts, A History!"
Dumbledore held up a hand. "There is a first time for everything." He said. "And this is a special circumstance. May I introduce you to-" he motioned to Harry, who stepped into view, " . . . Harry Potter."
There was silence. The students did nothing but stare in shock. Not a single whisper broke out. Harry felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. He closed his eyes for a moment, then stepped forward.
Dumbledore lifted the Sorting Hat, and gave it to McGonagall. She motioned for Harry to sit on the stool and he did. All eyes were upon him and she placed it on his head.
Almost immediately, a voice started conversing in his head.
"Hmm, this is interesting. Difficult, very difficult. Lets see, loyal enough to be a Hufflepuff, clever enough to be a Ravenclaw, cunning enough to be a Slytherin, and more than enough courage for Gryffindor. That leaves the question- where do I put you?"
Harry closed his eyes, and added his input. "Gryffindor, please, Gryffindor."
"Gryffindor, eh? Yes, that's right. Gryffindor would be fantastic for you." Harry smiled, and the hat shifted on his head, as the brim opened and everyone leaned forward in anticipation. Then suddenly the hat stopped. "Wait, what's this about dark elves? You grew up with WHERE? Oh . . ." and before Harry could object, the brim opened wide.
"SLYTHERIN!"