Chapter Two
Harry wasn't sure if he'd ever longed for peace and quiet before his memory loss, but he was longing for it now. Hermione and Ron had come back just after he'd had his dinner, and ever since he'd had visitors. They each came into his room smiling nervously, but left looking thoroughly confused. He consoled himself with the fact that at least he wasn't bored out of his skull.
The first visitor had been a woman named Molly Weasley – Ron's mother. She was quite a plump lady, who'd immediately started crying when she saw him.
"Oh, Harry…" Molly had sobbed, and flung her arms around his shoulders.
It had only gotten more awkward from then onwards.
A pair of identical twins had burst through the doors with big grins, immediately telling Harry how good he was at flying. Then they started telling him about how good they were at flying, and all about their genius inventions. They'd only laughed when Harry mentioned he wouldn't mind buying some of their products.
Hermione had glared daggers at them until they left.
"They seemed nice," Harry had said, which had been a mistake. He'd received a five minute lecture on how they'd dropped out of school and were wasting their talents on silly pranks. By the time she was finished, he was starting to wish he was still in a coma.
From there, Harry had been forced to endure the most awkward conversation of his life (which wasn't saying much considering he couldn't remember anything) with Ginny Weasley. She mentioned something about once having a crush on him.
Then he'd spoken with Ron's older brother, Charlie, who Harry immediately liked. He admitted he didn't know Harry very well, as he worked with dragons in Romania. Harry had the shock of his life when he was told he'd once out flown a dragon, and was starting to wonder if he was being pranked.
Harry had just about thought the torture was over, when Hermione announced that he still had two more visitors.
"It's my other brother, Bill, and his girlfriend, Fleur," said Ron.
"Another brother?" Harry snorted. "Haven't your folks ever heard of birth control? How often do they go at it?"
Ron didn't quite know what to say to that, but Hermione did. "How on earth do you know what birth control is when you don't even know your own mother's name?"
The doors opened again, and Harry sat bolt upright when his eyes landed on her. He hardly noticed Bill walking by her side, and he guessed most people would have the same problem. He remembered what Ron had said about veela, and he knew without doubt that veela blood was somewhere in Fleur's lineage. Her hair was a silvery white and effortlessly styled over her shoulders, resting against pale blue robes. Her eyes were the deepest blue he'd ever seen, although he hadn't seen many eyes, and her skin was a creamy, unblemished shade of perfect white.
"Holy fuck," breathed Harry. "Can I take you home with me?"
Everyone was aware Harry was nearly drooling, including himself. Bill merely raised an eyebrow, but Fleur seemed politely amused.
"You done hitting on my girlfriend, Potter?"
"Hell no," said Harry. "I could dedicate my entire life to creating the most perfect, beautiful woman, and it still wouldn't compare."
"Well," said Bill, unsure how to act, "I think I'll take that as a compliment."
"As will I," said Fleur, eyeing Harry with interest.
"French, too," said Harry. "That's even more perfect."
Hermione had her head in her hands. "I'm so sorry, Fleur, Bill. I should have warned you."
Bill laughed it off. "That's quite all right. I imagine it's all a bit of a shock, eh, Harry?"
Harry completely ignored the question and asked one of his own. "How the hell did you manage to pull the hottest woman I've ever seen?" he demanded. "And please, for the love of God, can you teach me how to do it?"
"I – what?" Bill stumbled over the words. "Merlin, Harry."
Bill and Fleur left the room, more confused than anyone else had been. Ron groaned loudly as soon as the doors shut.
"I can't believe him," he said. "The first thing he does when he wakes up from being in a coma for a month is chat up the healer, and now he hits on my brother's girlfriend?"
Ron looked close to laughing his head off, but Hermione wasn't amused. In fact, judging by how red her face was, the poor girl was moments away from breaking down.
"So, tell me more about this Hogwarts business," said Harry. "Ginny mentioned it earlier."
"Oh no, I didn't think of that," Hermione mumbled, looking terrified. How would they cope a year of Hogwarts with Harry in the state he was in?
"Let's not talk about that now," said Ron, seeing Hermione was starting to work herself up. "Say, can you remember how to play chess?"
"Nope!" said Harry cheerfully. "How hard can it be?"
Hermione whimpered in her seat, but Ron looked positively gleeful.
"Don't worry, mate, I'll show you the basics."
"Does it include veela?" asked Harry hopefully, and Hermione whimpered again.
Harry said goodbye to Delia and St. Mungo's the next morning, which surprised him. For one thing, didn't he have a brain injury? He'd asked that very question, but Delia had informed him there was nothing he could do but hope the memories would return.
The second thing that worried him was the fact he had no idea where he lived. Hermione had mentioned something about him growing up with his aunt and uncle, but apparently he hated them, they hated him, and so it was decided he was going to live with Ron in the Burrow for a month.
"Where's my wand?" asked Harry. Ron passed it to him and Harry inspected it closely, noting it was slightly scorched but otherwise intact. "You say you've got to be seventeen to perform magic outside of school, Hermione?"
Hermione frowned. "Yes…"
"And how old am I?"
"You turned seventeen just last week — oh no you don't." Hermione plucked the wand from Harry's grasp before he could utter a spell. She looked mightily alarmed at the thought of him performing magic. "You won't be using this until you've proved you know what you're doing."
Harry scowled at the girl. "Did you and I ever go out? Because you're acting like a nagging bloody girlfriend right now!"
Hermione harrumphed but said nothing, which just made Harry believe something must have happened between them.
"We've got a Portkey set up for you, mate," said Ron, holding up a rubber duck. "Dad had it made in the Ministry."
"Well, let's get it over with," said Harry.
They each placed a finger on the rubber duck and were whisked away, landing on a grassy hill. The sun was shining brightly overhead and the fresh air filled Harry with joy. The walk down the hill took them to the Burrow, and it was here Harry paused.
"It looks like it's going to collapse," he said, eyeing the house nervously.
Hermione and Ron eyed each other guiltily. They hadn't told him how he'd lost his memories yet, although he hadn't asked, either.
"It's perfectly safe," said Hermione.
"Yeah, it's held up with magic, see," added Ron.
"Hmm," said Harry. "Was I in a collapsed building before now? I have this awful sense of déjà vu."
Ron shuffled his feet. "Something like that, mate. We'll tell you about it later."
Harry was dragged into the house and was surprised to find it empty. He looked left and right, to the kitchen and living room, expecting someone to jump out at any moment. Ron and Hermione watched him curiously.
"What is it, Harry?" asked Hermione.
"Haven't you thrown me a get well and surprise birthday party?" Harry shrugged in disappointment. "I guess we weren't the best of friends like I've been told. Now, where's my bedroom? I need to dump this." He lifted up backpack. "And who's cooking? I'm starving!"
Ron mouthed 'surprise party?' at Hermione, but she shook her head.
"Go and show Harry to his room, Ron," instructed Hermione. "Then how about we go to Diagon Alley for something to eat? We can tell you some more about your life there, Harry."
"Sounds good to me," said Harry and he followed Ron up the creaking stairs. He was sure the roof would fall on top of him in his sleep, but Ron had seemed quite insulted when he'd mentioned it before, so he didn't say anything.
Harry was given Fred and George's old room, which he would be using until he went back to Hogwarts. Ron warned him to be on the lookout for any leftover pranks, which just excited Harry.
Hermione decided it would be best to use the Floo Network to take them to Diagon Alley, and she went through the green flames first.
"So, what's her deal?" asked Harry, just before he was going to leave.
"She's been our best friend for the last six years," admitted Ron, looking conflicted.
"Do you fancy her?" asked Harry bluntly. The tips of Ron's ears burned red, which was enough of an answer. "Fine," said Harry, "I'll let you have her."
Funny, Harry thought as he was sent barrelling through the fire, his answer had only seemed to upset Ron even more.
Harry was sent crashing into a table as he tumbled out of the fireplace. A few people looked his way, shaking their heads.
"Are you okay?" asked Hermione, appearing quite amused at his misfortune.
Harry stood up and dusted himself off. "Oh yeah, I fall out of fireplaces for fun all the time, you know. Now, who's buying the first drink? I'll have something strong and stiff, like myself."
Hermione's lip curled in disgust and she shook her head of bushy brown hair. "We really need to work on your tact, Harry."
Harry would have replied, but Ron suddenly shot out of the fireplace and completely flattened him. They went arse over tit over a chair and Harry ended up staring right into Ron's left nostril.
"I hope that's your wand in your pocket, Ron," said Harry, squirming from under Ron's heavy frame.
"It was!" Ron was very red in the face as he jumped to his feet.
"Let's go," said Hermione, spinning on her heel and leading them out of the pub. They came to a wall and she tapped a few bricks with her wand in an obvious pattern, and then the wall opened up into a winding alley. Hermione turned to Harry expectantly. "Well, what do you think?"
Harry couldn't stop grinning. "Holy shit, would you look at her?"
"What?" asked Hermione, perplexed.
"Blonde hair, older than what I'd usually go for, but damn! I think she's another veela!" Harry strode down the alley, intent on introducing himself.
"Oh God," said Hermione as she saw who he was heading towards. She and Ron scurried after their friend. "Harry, stop!"
Harry ignored her. He finally reached the blonde woman and gave her his best smile, which she recoiled from. "Hi, I'm Harry. May I just say—"
"Harry," hissed Hermione, clamping a hand over his mouth. She looked awkwardly at Narcissa Malfoy. "Um…"
A wide-eyed Narcissa hurried away without saying a word and Hermione sagged in relief. Ron was openly laughing.
"Harry, please, please try to act normal!" begged Hermione.
Harry wasn't listening, though. "Hermione!" he whined. "I was in with a chance there!"
Ron guffawed. "Oh, mate. This is great! Don't you know who she is?"
Hermione looked at him like he was stupid. "Of course he doesn't, you idiot!"
"Oh yeah…" said Ron sheepishly.
"Wait," said Harry nervously. "She's not forty is she?"
Hermione slapped a hand to her forehead. "Harry, you killed her husband three months ago!"
"Huh," said Harry with a shrug. "Even more reason for me to talk to her, then. You know, I can console her, maybe offer a warm embrace."
Hermione looked like she was going to be sick.
"Maybe we should go home," suggested Ron, eyeing Harry like he was crazy. "Before he starts a riot or something."
"But we've just got here," complained Harry, when he spotted the brightest shop in Diagon Alley. His eyes lit up. "I want to go there."
Hermione and Ron whipped around to see where he was pointing and dread filled each of them.
"Oh no," said Hermione in dawning horror, but it was too late; Harry was already striding towards Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes Joke Shop. She turned to Ron in despair. "What are we going to do with him?"
Ron shrugged helplessly. "I say we sit back and enjoy the ride, and maybe do damage control before things get out of hand."
"Try not to let him out of either of our sights," instructed Hermione. "Who knows what he'll do otherwise."
"Yeah," agreed Ron. "That'll be difficult in the castle. Let's just hope Hogwarts is still standing by the time we graduate."