Harry potter and the Time of retirement

Everything related to Harry Potter belongs to JKR

Chapter 2

It lasted less than one second, and yet it felt like hours... as if he had just awaken from a long night of sleep. Suddenly, there were again light and vibrations and voices surrounding him from all sides. It seemed to be a busy hall, packed with people; certainly different from King's Cross, where Harry expected to end up at the moment of his death. He grasped at his chest, but the pain had disappeared; and yet, his hand felt real, no less than the rest of his body, or the world around him. This was no dream, as far as he could tell. What was happening?

"Boy, are you alright?" said one voice behind him. Harry paid it no attention, though, too confused by his situation. Only when a hand landed on his shoulder, trying lightly to turn him backward, he raised his eyes to meet those of a giant man in front of him, who looked at least twice as tall as he was if not more.

"Really, kid... are you alright? Not to bother you, but you really look like you are about to pass out" said the huge man. Which, apparently was no taller than the rest of the people passing by. Weird.

"I am... not sure where I am." said Harry lamely, but honestly. At the same time, he started taking note of the details – of which the most telling was a set of luggage right next to him, included a cage with a white owl inside it. A coincidence, for sure – or a sign of his madness. Never mind his ragged clothes, which reminded him of his youth.

"You got lost, then. It happens. Didn't your father... that big man that was with you before, explain where is your train?" said the man, not unkindly but already with a hint of annoyance.

Harry started to feel overwhelmed – he definitely did not like what his situation seemed to be. In any case he needed time to think, which also meant being alone and unbothered. Worried strangers were not useful, right now.

"Yes, sir. I think I know where to go for the train; I just felt overwhelmed. I am not used to be alone." said Harry.

"Oh, ok. If you are sure. I really have to go... see that man in the uniform over there? If you need help, go to him. Bye" said the man, walking away with a certain hurry.

At least, that was solved, and Harry had again time to think. Or better, to worry about what the situation seemed like: he was in the middle of what looked like an old muggle station, he apparently had the aspect of a kid and had next to him an owl suspiciously similar to his old school pet.

There were spells that could influence the mind into seeing realistic illusions, but – according to what people subjected to them could say – they made the target confused and unable to postulate it was under control. Not his situation: Harry felt lucid, completely; as long as one discounted his growing panic. He was certainly not eager to even consider what all the hints around him seemed to suggest.

'Madness', he thought. Delusions. What was next to him was not an owl dead decades before and he was not in what King's Cross looked like in the past. Time travel, at least on this scale, does not exist and one should not consider something impossible as happening just because he could not imagine the correct answer to a situation. From him going mad, or being dead and just reliving his life, or being under some obscure spell that was forcing him to see all this, there were much better explanation than something he was certain, mostly, that could not happens.

Unfortunately, much of the calmness coming from this line of thought shattered when he heard a phrase spoken somewhere behind him, a phrase that reeked creepily of deja-vu "...packed with muggles, of course..."

Slowly, he turned... only to see a very familiar group of people with red hair. Hell, no, he did not need this. He did not want this. Gathering all the luggages near him, cage included, he walked hurriedly towards the wall between platform 9 and 10, crossing it without hesitation.

He both feared and expected the sight that appeared in front of it, but he could not deny it: Platform 9 ¾, looking exactly as he remembered it from his children's school trips. Walking uncertainly, he recognized some of the faces surrounding the train: mostly among what seemed to be the older students or the younger parents, as they were people he dealt with in his professional or private life as an adult.

Remaining close to the wall, he observed the train with a long-forgotten sense of longing... he knew he had never been completely over his unhappy childhood, but it was scary in a way to see the effect this place could still have on him. Last time he felt it, it was on the return of his daughter Lily Luna from her last year of schooling, so many years in the past – and it was overcome by the happiness of seeing her return. No, this was different, he could feel it.

Pushed by a sudden curiosity, he grabbed his wand and cast a feather-light charm on his chest, barely muttering the incantation as he got used to do since his fifties: the spell felt wrong somehow, noticeably weaker than what it should have been, but it was there and Harry felt no differences in his control of it. So, he still had his talent, his knowledge, even inside this dream or spell illusion or trip to the – no, not that. 'Madness', he insisted to himself.

In any case he could leave even now, go away, think something, do something. Yes, but what? Had this been some kind of delusion, there was nothing he could do – he must have been prisoner inside his own mind, ranting on the floor of his own bedroom. If it was a spell... no matter how different that seemed compared to the usual effect for that kind of incantation... then, he could only will himself to "wake up" hoping that his magic overpowered that of the aggressor; but that did not seem to be working, as he certainly wished with complete desperation to awake with no results. If it was... if it was something else, he was even more powerless.

His pondering was interrupted by the whistle of the train, warning its young passenger to prepare: his gaze moved to it, and next to one of the windows he noticed the Weasley family, with a very young Ginny standing next to her mother. That sight struck him: not because of her, a barely pubescent girl with freckles, but for what he had once and still remembered. All his friends, all his experiences... it was hard to describe what was passing trough his mind, but he started walking towards the train, finally climbing it. Staying around here a little more would not hurt anyone... hell, whatever he did now was arguably meaningless, so he might as well enjoy the ride – literally and figuratively.

Once inside the train he tried to find an empty compartment but they all seemed occupied; some of the inhabitants smiled at him trough the door, but it was not enough to convince him to enter. Companionship was not his goal, at least not at the moment. Finally, he just set his stuff next to a window and started looking at the passing countryside, deep in thoughts. He was on the Hogwarts Express. As a kid. He was tired of feeling confused and perplexed, but he did not want to just "accept" all this either. Searching for a way to distract himself, he opened the cage of maybe-Hedwig allowing her to step on his arm. She hooted, and Harry felt a small pang of sympathy for the bird: while she was barely more than a memory to him now, it was still a pleasant one. Opening the window, he started to talk:

"Go, Hedwig. You don't need to stay inside a cage, fly to the... to our destination, and wait for me there. Get some food along the way". While saying this, he pushed her to go.

Hedwig hooted again, and took flight disappearing in the sky immediately after. Harry closed the window, and placed his forehead against it: so, that was his 'plan' for now? Go to Hogwarts? It would be nice to see it as it was before the uprising, after so many years, but... it also felt weird. Not that the whole situation wasn't already beyond logic, but even when magic was involved he still expected some degree of predictability. Obviously, that was not going to happen.

Some students had already passed by him in the meantime, paying no attention to his inner turmoil, but a repeated sound of compartment doors being opened and closed drew his gaze; turning his head, he noticed a girl with frizzy hair and a pudgy, shy-looking boy following her. Hermione and Neville, their younger version at least, actually quite hard to recognize as they looked quite different from their adult counterparts.

"Have you seen a toad? Neville here has lost his" she said, with a bossy voice – and a hint of nervousness, hard to grasp if you were not looking for it.

"No, I did not. Sorry" said Harry, staring at them as if they were about to disappear. Unsurprisingly, that seemed to make her uncomfortable as she stuttered their next words:

"Oh... ok. If you see it, warn us." and with that she moved away, giving him a puzzled glance. Neville followed, but clumsily kicked the chest – the charmed one, that immediately bounced to the end of the wagon.

"Neville! ….what happened? Is that chest... spelled?" she asked in a suddenly curious tone.

"Charmed... and yes, it is." answered Harry.

"Oooh, you can do magic! I've tried a few simple spells just for practice myself, and they all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the..." she blabbered excitedly.

"Stop! I got it. ….good for you" said Harry.

"Yes. But... aren't you excited? We are going to a school for magic! Can you do more spells? Show me some!" pressed on Hermione.

"No." said Harry, firmly. Nostalgia was fast giving way to annoyance – he felt suddenly as if everything was wrong, and he should most definitely not be here pampering an over-excited school girl, even an apparent counter part of one of his dearest friends. Once, at least.

"What? Why not? Come on, show me. Or... you did not charm that chest, did you? Your parents did, and you can't. It's ok, you know, you'll learn and become good and I could..."

"Could you please just stop talking?" Harry said, before he could stop himself. That was an acid comment, hostile even if addressed to an adult; not at all the way to treat a socially awkward little girl. Unsurprisingly, she looked almost like she had been slapped: she opened her mouth as if she wanted to say anything, but then turned around. With a shaky voice she addressed Neville that had been listening beside her all this time and was now staring at him with wide eyes:

"...let's go, Neville. We have to find your toad."

Harry saw her walking away, and he felt a wave of regret. This was not her fault. Not really turning, he addressed her again:

"I am sorry, that was too much. For the toad, ask some of the prefects, the older students with a badge. They can help."

She did not answer, but as she had stopped for a second while he was talking, Harry assumed she listened. In any case, both she and Neville left the wagon soon after leaving Harry alone, and shaken.

Children, he thought. These are children, annoying but easy to offend. He was supposed to know better. …..oh, well, this kind of things just happens. Nothing he could do about it now. Plus, the train was probably bound to arrive to Hogsmeade soon. If he wanted to go away, this was the moment. Was it?

In all honesty, Harry was unsure. Finally, he gathered again all his stuff, in search for an empty compartment. 'I need time' was his only thought, and if that meant wearing the robes and going along with all this for a little while longer, so be it. Dejected, he started moving.

A short while after, a voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

The train had arrived.

Author's note: Another chapter. I am taking this thing slow, writing one only when I have a evening free and I cant focus on anything else. I am trying to stay mostly adherent to the original events, but I will NOT follow them step-by-step. If one has to read (AND write) something way too similar to the original story, it would be better to just re-open the books. The point of fanfiction is to explore possibilities not present in the main story, and that is what I am going to do.