Chapter Three
"You're a werewolf!"
Remus shuffled his feet, unsure how to respond. He started and stopped a few times before he said, "I am."
Harry lips split into a grin. "That's awesome! Wait until I'm back at Hogwarts, so I can learn how to become an Animagus, and we can have some adventures on the full moon."
Remus blinked in a somewhat dazed state. When he'd heard Harry had finally woken up from his coma, he'd been ecstatic, but then he'd been told about the loss of memory. He'd feared the worst, thinking Harry would retreat into himself, become depressed and antisocial, but that wasn't the case. If anything, the complete loss of all his memories had made Harry into someone completely new. Gone was the quiet, almost shy teenager, replaced with a young man who knew no limits or discretion. It was enough to make Remus' head spin.
They were in the Burrow's living room. The Weasley's had given them some privacy and were in the garden, preparing it for the night's dinner outside.
"Harry," said Remus hesitantly. "If you can't remember anything, how will you learn to become an Animagus? It isn't something that you can do with a wave of your wand – it's not that simple."
Harry scoffed and waved his worries away. "You underestimate me, Remus. Just you wait."
Remus nodded uncertainly. Perhaps it was worse than he'd first feared – maybe Harry had become delusional, thinking himself capable of great feats when he actually knew less magic than a first year.
"If you need help this year, Harry, I'll be going back and forth to Hogwarts from time to time," said Remus. Minerva had asked him to come back as soon she'd heard the news. Harry needed him, she'd said, and he fully agreed.
"Tell me," said Harry, waving a hand between them, "how do we know each other? Hermione mentioned something about my father, but I've kind of stopped listening to her when she drones on. She doesn't half talk a lot, I tell you. I've been thinking about creating a charm that plays music only the caster can hear, but keeps the right expression on your face. Hey!" Harry smiled brightly. "Maybe the twins will be able to create it! I'll ask them later; they're coming over for dinner."
Remus couldn't stop gaping. He shook his head and moved his jaw to get it working. "I was best friends with your dad, yes," he said finally, deciding to ignore everything else Harry had said.
"Do you like beer?" asked Harry suddenly.
Remus blinked again. "Um, yes."
"Then follow me," said Harry, jumping out of the chair.
Remus followed his best friend's son up the stairs, and he couldn't help but think Harry had actually gone mad. He skipped between subjects without even bothering to acknowledge they'd been talking about something else, his smile never seemed to waver, and … well … he was acting rather bizarrely.
Harry ushered Remus into his bedroom, and Remus stopped in surprise. There was a pool table sitting in the middle of the room, and an ice box on the windowsill, which was overflowing with bottles of beer.
"Harry, where did you get this?" asked Remus, running his hand along the red cloth of the table and picking up a pool cue. "It must have cost you a bit of money, too!"
"Got it in Diagon," said Harry dismissively, taking two beers out of the ice box, one of which he passed to Remus. "Bloke in the shop said I could have it for free because I defeated Voldemort or something."
Remus looked at him in amazement. "Someone just gave you a pool table?"
"Oh no, this was something Arthur found through work," said Harry as he racked up the balls. "Some wizard cursed it—" he started giggling, "—so every time a Muggle took a shot, the pockets would jump out of the way!"
Harry guffawed, but Remus simply smiled. "Then how are we going to play?"
"Oh, don't worry, Arthur cancelled the charm," said Harry. He took a sip of his beer and gestured to the pool table. "It's working fine now. Go on, you can break."
Remus bent down, lined up the cue, and shot. The balls scattered, but nothing went down any of the table's six pockets. Remus got up as Harry prepared to take his first shot, and he took a look around the room.
"Where did you the speakers from?"
Harry glanced at the wall, where a set of speakers were sitting on a shelf. "They're Fred and George's, but they said I could keep them."
Harry potted one red, but he missed his second. Remus chalked his cue and got down to play.
"So tell me," said Remus, pausing to hit the cue ball. It hit the yellow, sending it into the middle left pocket. "How have you been handling things? You seem to be doing great."
Harry nodded in agreement. "The only thing that could make it better is if Fleur would come over. I've been thinking about inviting her to a game of pool the next time I see her."
Remus hid his amusement well. "Harry," he said, "you know she's going out with Bill."
Harry pouted. "Do you know if she has a sister?"
"She does, but she's far too young for you."
"How old is she?" demanded Harry in a loud enough voice that Remus jumped and accidentally hit the white ball before he meant to, sending it crashing into the pack of balls.
"She's fifteen," said Remus.
"Fifteen, eh?" Harry snorted and got down to take his shot. "When is she sixteen?"
"I don't know," admitted Remus, watching Harry sink another red. A second later he potted another one.
Remus sipped his beer, feeling a bit better about things. Hermione had mentioned there was no getting through to Harry, but maybe, Remus thought, this was just who Harry was now. It was about becoming familiar with him again, just as Harry was becoming familiar with them.
"If I can't find a veela," said Harry, "I suppose I'd settle for a Metamorphmagus."
Remus choked on his beer and violently spluttered.
Harry was half asleep, wishing he had his wand so he could drown out the racket the birds were making. The sun was shining through the window, which meant another lovely summer's day had arrived.
The door opened and Fred and George walked in.
"Hey, Harry," said George loudly, and he gave a flick of his wand. The blanket covering Harry suddenly came to life, tied him up into a tight ball, and hovered above the pool table.
Fred whistled through his teeth as he looked around. "Love what you've done with the place, Harry."
"I couldn't agree more," said George.
Harry could only wonder what had just happened. He thought maybe this was the way Fred and George always treated him, so he went along with it.
"Help yourselves to a beer," offered Harry. "I would get it for you, but I appear to be hovering in the fetus position."
"Later, Harry," said Fred. "Now get your skinny arse dressed and join us outside for a game of Quidditch. It's about time we see if you can still play."
The twins left without saying another word, and Harry landed with a thump on the pool table. Thankfully it didn't collapse. After untangling himself and finally getting dressed, he wandered downstairs and found the clan of Weasley's eating breakfast. Sadly, Fleur hadn't come over for breakfast.
"Help yourself, dear," said Molly over her shoulder, from where she was frying bacon.
"I had the weirdest dream," announced Harry as he sat down. Everyone turned to him expectantly; some of them even looked nervous. "There I was, minding my own business, when some guy named Cedric pops out of nowhere and gives me his blessing to go out with his ex-girlfriend." Harry snorted, missing the astonished looks he was receiving. "I said to him, I don't need any help in that department, thank you very much, and certainly not from a pretty boy like you."
Hermione's hands flew to her mouth as she gasped. "Do you know what this means, Harry? Your memories are returning."
Harry suddenly became white as a sheet. "Wait, is Cedric real? Did he really give me his blessing?"
"Nah, mate," said Ron, shaking his head, "he's dead."
A collective wince spread around the table at Ron's bluntness, but Harry sagged in relief.
"Oh, thank fuck for that," he said, to Molly's admonishment, which he ignored. "I thought for a moment I'd been in a threesome with another guy." He shivered violently.
As one, everyone stopped eating, including Ron.
Hermione gently put down her fork. "Thank you very much of that image, Harry."
Harry bit into a sausage. "So, Bill," he said, and the man in question grimaced. "Where's the lovely Miss Delacour today?"
"Quidditch!" shouted Ron, and he dragged Harry into the garden before he could start an argument.
A number of the Weasley brothers joined them, while Hermione wandered outside with her nose in a book, claiming she was researching something or other.
"Let's pick captains," said Ron.
"Before we do, can someone tell me what Quidditch is?" asked Harry. He received astonished looks from everyone but Hermione, but that was only because she hadn't heard him. "What?" he defended himself. "I have lost my bloody memories you know!"
Charlie chuckled into his hand. "Sorry, Harry. I thought Ron would've told you all about it by now."
"I did!" said an indignant Ron.
Harry nodded in agreement. "He did, but Hermione was wearing a low-cut blouse and I kind of got distracted. You know how it is."
Hermione sniffed and pressed her nose deeper into her book. Fred and George laughed heartily.
"Right," said Ron slowly. "You can play Seeker, Harry. Just catch the Snitch, okay?"
Harry looked at the Snitch Ron was holding between his forefinger and thumb and nodded. "How hard can it be?"
"Yeah, it's always been easy for you," said Ron. "Bill and Charlie, you be captains."
"Then I choose you, Harry," said Bill immediately. "I don't care if you don't know the rules," he said to the surprised looks. "You didn't know how to play in your first year from what Ron told me, so I'm sure you've still got it."
"I guess that leaves me with you then, Ron," said Charlie.
"Fred," said Bill.
The game started, but Harry wasn't all that sure what he (or anyone else) was doing. There were two hoops, one each on opposite sides of the small field they were on, and Ron, Bill, and the twins were throwing a red ball between themselves, which they tried to get into the hoops. Charlie was a Seeker, too, which Harry discovered was all about aimlessly flying around.
Halfway through the game, Harry spotted the Snitch. He immediately chased after it, surprised to find it was faster than he'd thought.
"Go on, Potter!" cheered Bill.
Harry stretched out his arm, startled when Charlie bumped him, when a flash of silvery blonde hair caught his eye. He looked down and saw Fleur speaking to Hermione. Harry immediately abandoned the chase for the Snitch.
"You can have it, Charlie," said Harry, diverting his broomstick towards the ground.
"What's he doing?" howled Bill, but it soon became obvious to them all.
"Hey, Fleur," said Harry, hovering in front of the woman, "do you fancy a ride on my—"
"Harry!" said an alarmed Hermione. "Please don't finish that sentence."
Fleur frowned and scrunched up her nose as she tried to work out what he had been about to say, which in Harry's mind made her look adorable.
"Hermione," growled Harry, "will you please stop taking all the veela away from me!"
"I'm so sorry, Fleur … Fleur?"
Hermione and Harry looked around, but Fleur had already left.
"That's your fault," said Harry, crossing his arms over his chest.
Hermione straightened her back, looking appalled.
"My fault?" she demanded.
Harry nodded sulkily and wandered into the house. As soon as Fleur saw him she jumped out of her chair and disappeared up the stairs.
"What's gotten in to that girl?" Molly wondered aloud.
"French chicks," said Harry, shaking his head. "Beautiful, but barmy."