Disclaimer: JK Rowling is a genius, I am but a humble high-school student who lives in the world she created.
Chapter 11-Memory
Harry watched Hedwig flying away from him and Grimmuald Place. After writing the letter to Dumbledore, he had told her, "Hurry up, I'm a bit impatient to get a reply on this letter," after which she blinked at him as if saying, "I understand."
Harry had a theory about what had happened to him the night of his sixteenth birthday, but he wanted to be sure. If he was right, it would mean that he was unique for another reason, he was the first of something. But that's not what made him so anxious. He was anxious because it would also explain a lot of other things that were happening to him. He hadn't noticed it before, but now that he thought about it, he realized how much things had changed for him.
He walked back to his room and took note of the door opening itself for him, yet again. He hadn't noticed it before, but with the new information that had just come to light, he was starting to put the pieces together. Every door in the house opened for him, but they wouldn't open automatically for anyone else. And the index that had worked for him and not Hermione-that would be explained by his theory as well, along with what he now dubbed 'random bits of knowledge.' But he wanted to be sure.
He was pacing in his room, now, all these thoughts flying about in his head. He glanced over to Avii and was suddenly caught in her piercing glare.
In an instant, Harry felt himself black out and fall onto the floor.
Somehow, he found himself in the doorway to his bedroom, but now the lights were out and it was obviously nighttime. Harry walked further into his bedroom and surveyed it. The place had an odd quality to it, as though it were real but not quite concrete. Harry had experienced this before-he witnessed this type of atmosphere in Tom's diary and in Dumbledore's pensieve. He was dumbfounded as to who's memory he was in now and how he managed to get there.
There was a loud intake of breath from the bed, and Harry was pulled by some unknown force over to it. What he saw made him gasp just as loudly as the one he had just heard.
He was looking at himself on his own bed, watching himself in slow motion. He could feel the sensation that his past and scrawny self was feeling; it was as though something he was longing for was being poured into his body, mind, soul, and heart. He heard a second breath, and he saw his old self become the new; the old Harry Potter was morphing from a thin, short child, to a tall and muscular man. One last breath, and he felt complete for the first time in his life. The present Harry Potter felt a jolt, and when he opened his eyes he was back in the present.
"How did that happen?" he voiced aloud. He heard a soft, purring coo, and looked over to find Avii staring at him still. "It was you? But you weren't there when that happened, how could you have-" he stopped, mentally sorting 'research beauvols' to the top of his to-do list.
There was no doubt in Harry's mind anymore. He knew what happened to him. The only problem was, it was supposed to be impossible.
A/N: This chapter could be longer, but I couldn't resist the evil cliffie!! Muwahahahaha!
Oh, could anyone tell me whether (evil laughter above) is supposed to be spelled with a u or a w? I couldn't decide, so I used both. lol (just one of those wierd questions my mind comes up with-you don't need to bother answering ;D)
