Harry Potter and the Power of the Past
Disclaimer: All JKR's, not mine.
Summary: This is a complete AU- Harry Potter is a 21-year-old wizard, who's on top of the world. He's rich, in love, and loved by all, but his life is turned upside down as a spiral of events leads to the ultimate battle between good and evil. Can Harry lead the fight for the light, but yet manage to keep his life together?
A/N: Thanks for the reviews everybody. Oh, and review again!
S/N: I know this chapter seems silly, but it was needed. The chapter I just wrote is chockfull of action-y goodness, which should be in five or so chapters!
S/N 2: The name-dropping is a big part of this chapter, so pay attention—especially when it comes to Despereaux. The wedding is going to be chapter 16, most likely, so be prepared!
Chapter 14: Betting on memories
Harry waved to Ted as he disappeared in a flash of green flames. "Come on, Harry, we're waiting." George yelled, sending a dungbomb at the wizard. Harry acted quickly and flicked his wand, stopping the stink bomb-like object mid-flight. With another flick of his wand, the dungbomb was sent flying back at George, where it crashed into his forehead, exploding in his face. "Oh, Merlin." He coughed out, his eyes tearing up.
"So shall we?" Harry grinned, paying no attention to the crying George, who was curled up in the fetal position on the ground, whimpering slightly. They all clunked their glasses together, and downed the shots, laughing at the after effects that it caused. "Not going to drink yours, George?" Harry questioned, as the man continued to sob. He shrugged, taking George's glass and chugging it. "Oh, well, can't let it go to waste."
The men grabbed some food, and dispersed for a few minutes, filling up their stomachs for another round of drinks. "You remember when you got dumped by Fleur, Roger?" Cedric grinned, wanting to rag on Roger for a little while. "Man, that was funny. I had a jolly good laugh for days upon days."
"She dumped you for that guy, what was his name, Despereaux, right?" Harry added, making the whole room cackle with laughter. "Yeah, yeah, Despereaux Barnaud."
"I did not get dumped by her for Despereaux. They were just friends…I think." Roger muttered, embarrassedly. He was over the whole Fleur thing (the pair had gone out for a few months after the Tri-Wizard tournament), but he knew that wouldn't stop the guys from ragging on him about it.
"More like you hoped they were at the time." Cedric corrected, slapping Roger on the back.
"You remember when Cho dumped you for Harry?" Viktor rebutted, knowing that Cedric would blush redder than a Weasley's hair. Cho Chang had broken up with Cedric one day during her sixth year, with the intention of starting something with Harry, though nothing really ever did.
Cedric turned to Viktor, looking at him with his gray eyes. "You remember when you lost the Tri-wizard cup to me?" Cedric replied, smiling.
"You're all a bunch of babies." Lilyre Moon laughed, earning a glare from Roger, Cedric, and Viktor—though, with Harry laughing at them too, they couldn't hold it against Lilyre. Harry headed over to the food table, Lilyre and Theodore following behind him, leaving Cedric, Roger, and Viktor to rag on each other. "Having fun so far?" Lilyre questioned, taking a cookie off of a levitating plate.
"Of course." Harry grinned, grabbing some food for himself. "Daphne's with Tonks, isn't she?" Harry asked Theodore, looking over to the former Slytherin. Daphne Nott, nee Greengrass, was Theodore's wife of a year and a half: she hailed from an ancient line of wizards just as pure as the Notts. Harry and Tonks had attended their wedding, which was both extravagant and beautiful.
"Daphne?" Theodore replied, smirking slightly. "I've never heard you use her real name; it sounds strange coming from you." He gave out a laugh, one that was loud and jolly and from the gut. "Yeah, she is. Quite an attendance, too: that Robards girl is there, all the way from Italy."
"Gaetana, yeah, Tonks loves her. She's probably her best friend; Nymphie misses her dearly." Harry took a bite out of his food, swallowed, then said, "I'm sorry I haven't seen you guys these past few weeks, with Sirius getting out of Azkaban, and the wedding, I've been super busy."
"No problem," Lilyre waved it off, knowing that the man barely had time to breath some days. "My mother came by my house before I left for here and told me I couldn't go: she said something about not wanting 'mudbloods' and 'muggles' mingling with her 'pureblooded' son." The man, who had dark, tanned skin and dirty-blond hair laughed, knowing how hypocritical his mother was. "She's a first generation pureblood and she's ranting about blood purity; meanwhile, my father's side, the Moons, have been around since the 1500s and he doesn't care about blood purity. Go figure."
"Lisa's a first generation, too." Harry muttered, looking over to Roger—the man was talking with Cedric and Viktor, still making fun of the others. "Her grandparents were all muggleborns."
"There have been a lot of pureblood families rising lately." Theodore nodded, having noticed it before. "I mean, look at our year in Hogwarts, we had more purebloods than any other. And not all of them were old, some of them like Runcorn are pretty recent: I'm pretty sure she's a third or fourth generation."
"I wonder why that was." Wayne Hopkins, having come over to the group just seconds before, questioned out loud, not expecting an answer. He was a halfblood himself, having a muggleborn father and a halfblood mother; who, incidentally, had a muggleborn father and a halfblood mother herself, as well.
"Because of You-Know-Who." Theodore answered, turning his attention to the man. "Back then, back when he was in power, it looked as if he was going to win, since he was completely dominating the Ministry. The purebloods felt safe, felt like they were going to finally take over, so they had children; I know I was born for that reason. Then, when all of us were just a year old, the Dark Lord was destroyed thanks to…" He looked over to Harry, shrugging, not really feeling the need to go on.
"Calgary Runcorn is a third generation." Neville supplied, grabbing a butterbeer and giving them a smile.
Harry cocked an eyebrow. "Have something with her, do you, Nev?"
"Maybe." Neville shrugged, walking away without giving them an answer either way. Harry watched as the man walked away, his eyes furrowed in thought: he remembered that during the later years of Hogwarts, Calgary and Neville became friends, but Harry had always thought that Neville liked Sophie Roper or Arethusa Rivers, both being members of the Gryffindor house. Plus, if he remembered correctly, Neville had blossomed his seventh year, and had attracted the attention of Lincola Spinks, a surprisingly pretty and nice Slytherin girl. All in all, when Neville left Hogwarts, despite going five years without many friends, he left with a few romantic eyes on him, and even more people who he could call a friend.
"Yule ball?" Sirius asked Remus, having overheard the term being used in Cedric, Viktor, and Roger's conversation. Remus, Sirius, and Kingsley were off to the side, watching the younger men in the room, their minds drifting to days that have long since past.
"A dance for the Tri-Wizard tournament that happened at Christmas time." Remus replied, turning his attention to Sirius. He remembered attending the ball, having been a teacher at Hogwarts since two years prior, and seeing all of his students, fourth year and above, dressed in their best; it was a festive affair for all involved.
"Who was Harry's date?" Sirius questioned, interestedly. If Harry was anything like Sirius thought he was, or in anyway similar to James, Harry's date would have been an equal in everyway, shape, and form—though Sirius doubted such a lady, other than Tonks, existed.
"A Slytherin in his year by the name of Tracey Davis." Remus answered, smiling. "A pretty, smart girl who stood up in Slytherin when people ridiculed her for not being a pureblood—she's a halfblood."
A half an hour later, which equated to three empty bottles of Voicen's vodka, the men sat, sipping on a butterbeer amber. The drunken cloud of haze was beginning to form in front of all their eyes. Yet, even though they were almost all out of liquor, the night was still young. "Harry, what can we do to embarrass you, eh?" Cedric wondered out loud, hoping to think of something funny. The liquor was inhibiting his usually sharp mind, making it quite hard to imagine anything.
"I'll bet you," Fred slurred, repeatedly opening his eyes to see Harry. "Ten galleons to run down Diagon Alley naked; from the Owl Emporium to Wheezes."
"That's a long way." Cedric muttered, a small smirk forming on his face. It had been awhile since they did a stupid and immature act, a little over a year, but he was glad to see that the habit wasn't behind them just yet: they still had a few good years left in them.
"Twenty galleons, and I'll do it." Harry said, his eyes flicking to Cedric's.
"Heck, I'll give you fifty." Roger muttered, not thinking Harry would go through with it.
Sirius' eyes bulged when Roger said it; amazed at the way these kids spent their money. They threw it around in bets and games, as if it meant nothing to them; which might be the opposite, since they all tried to outdo and out earn the other. But as Harry once said 'You must spend money to make it'. "I'll throw in fifty, as well." Sirius added, putting his money into the pot.
"Me too." Viktor agreed, nodding his head in anticipation. In his mind, it was always fun to watch one of his best friends make a fool of himself.
"That's what?" Harry mumbled, using his fingers to count up the galleons. "One hundred and seventy?"
"Two hundred and twenty." Cedric corrected. "I'm putting in fifty myself."
"Lilyre and I will put in fifty." Theodore Nott said, nodding over to Lilyre Moon, who took a sip on his butterbeer, not really paying attention.
"Make it an even three hundred." Neville said, surprising the rest. Usually it was just Harry, Cedric, Roger, and Viktor who did dumb bets, not the cautious Neville. Neville Longbottom was a good friend of Harry's, ever since that day in Hogwarts that the wizard had helped the poor boy. It was a memory that was forever engrained in Neville's memory, since, after all, it changed his life for the better.
After being completely embarrassed by Malfoy during his fifth year, Neville ran up to the highest tower of Hogwarts, intent on crying until he couldn't cry anymore. Malfoy made fun of him, taunted him, picked on him, and overall bullied him since the first day the pair had met. And, due to the coward that he thought he was, Neville didn't do a thing about it. He didn't fight back, he didn't tell anyone, he just took it, and allowed it to stew inside him, until he couldn't take it anymore. Worse yet, since he had no friends, no other Gryffindor stuck up for him; in fact, other than Hermione Granger, no Gryffindor even noticed his presence. And he knew the only reason Hermione was nice to him was because she didn't have any friends in Gryffindor either; all of hers were Ravenclaw, the house she should have been in.
The wizard continued on to his destination, sprinting down the halls as his shoes clicked against the stone floor. It was late, being close to curfew, so the wizard didn't think anyone would be around. He would be proven wrong, however, as he ran into someone as he turned the corner the hallway that would lead to the Astronomy tower.
"Ow." Neville muttered as he landed on the floor with a thud. He looked up to see whom it was, and was pleasantly pleased that it was Harry Potter. The boy put out his hand towards Neville, offering to help him up. Neville accepted it gladly, allowing the boy to hoist him to his feet. "Sorry about that, Harry." He said, quietly.
"It's okay, no harm done." Harry smiled, checking the boy over. Seeing the tears in his eyes, Harry frowned. "Is everything all right?" He questioned, worriedly.
"Yes…no." Neville whispered, his gaze floating to the floor. "It's Malfoy. I can't take it anymore, and I'm too much of a coward to force him to stop what he's doing. Heck, even the Gryffindors laugh at me because I'm so scared. I forget things, I'm not brave; I'm no Gryffindor."
"Being scared does not make you any less of a Gryffindor, Neville." Harry chided to the boy, putting his hand on Neville's shoulder. "In fact, the bravest person isn't the one who has no fear, it's the person that faces the fear that he has. Face your fears head on, Neville, never run away from them. Everyone fears something, but when it comes down to it, its how we deal with them that defines us. You can't let your fear get in so deep inside of you that it gets the best of you. Because it's only in that fear that we'll fall."
"You're Harry Potter, though." Neville cried, wiping his eyes. "Everyone loves you. Me? I'm just a stupid, pudgy kid who's a terrible wizard. All I have going for me is my last name, and that's only because it's a pureblood one."
"Neville," Harry said softly. "Stand up to your fears, and you'll see that people will have your back. How do you know that all you have going for you is your name if you won't do anything about it?" He turned around and began to walk away. Before he was out of hearing range, however, he stopped and said, "Confront your fears, Neville, and you'll see that people will have your back."
Neville did just that the next day, as Draco walked towards him with a mocking smirk. Instead of the normal scenario, Neville took out his wand and pointed it at Malfoy shakily. "You…you stop it, Malfoy. I won't take it anymore."
Draco cocked a menacing eyebrow at the boy, glancing around to his Slytherin gang that hovered behind him. "Or what? Are you going to weed me to death? We both know the only thing you're halfway decent at is Herbology."
"Or…or I'll challenge you to a wizard's duel." Neville muttered, gulping as he realized just what it was that he had said. His eyes widened in fear, hoping that Draco wouldn't take the threat seriously, have a good laugh about it, and walk away.
"You and me dueling?" Draco guffawed, holding his sides. "That was too funny. Thanks, Longbottom, I needed that. Now," He said, cracking his knuckles and taking out his wand. "What do you say I…" Draco's eyes flicked over Neville's shoulders, where Harry and Roger stood ten feet away, staring down at the boy. Almost unnoticeably, Harry shook his head, sending Draco a silent threat. Pocketing his wand, Draco sneered and turned, walking away in a huff.
Neville blinked, not understanding what had happened. He spun around, seeing Harry and Roger strolling down the hall, their backs turned to Neville. He scanned the hallway, noticing that no other passageways would lead into the narrow hall. Which left only one conclusion: they came from the other side and protected Neville by standing behind him, and then they left, not wanting or needing any gratitude. "Thank you, Harry." Neville whispered, knowing that he would pay the boy back one day. And, after that day, the pair had become friends, talking and laughing with each other whenever they had the chance.
"Three hundred galleons?" Harry said, checking to make sure everyone was for real. The rest of the attendees threw in a few galleons themselves, pushing the total up to an incredible amount of three hundred and fifty galleons. "You got yourself a deal, there, fellas. If you could make your checks payable to Harry Potter, that would be grand." He grinned, disapparating out to a small alleyway at the end of Diagon Alley. He heard the familiar pops behind him, signaling that everyone else had come as well. "You might not want to look this way." He said, disrobing. "Someone take my clothes back with you when you go. Well, I'm off."
They watched as he walked down Diagon Alley, naked and not a care in the world. Whether it was the liquor or his ego, he didn't run like they thought he would, instead he took his time, enjoying the sights. Of course, since it was late, being around midnight, no one was really out; a few hags here and there, but no one that would really care if they saw a naked wizard. They laughed as he engaged in a conversation with one of the hags that he had passed. The hag, surprisingly, was able to keep her attention to his eyes, not even giving a peek. "Well, this was fifty galleons well spent." Roger grunted, running a hand over his face.
After returning back to the loft, Harry put his clothes back on and cracked open another butterbeer amber. He looked up at the clock, and noticed through his blurry vision that it was nearing one in the morning. Remus, Shacklebolt, and a few others left, leaving just Harry, Cedric, Roger, Viktor, the Weasley twins, Sirius, and Neville. They all took a shot of currant red rum—the Voicen's vodka was gone—and staggered down to the Leaky Cauldron, intent on buying some more drinks.
"Drinks on us!" Cedric yelled out, entering the pub. It was pretty crowded for a Thursday night, with hags, vampires, and wizards scattered about. All of their eyes flicked up to the group that had just walked in; raising their hands, they called over the servers and ordered their drinks quickly before Cedric rescinded his offer. The group of eight took the large table in the corner, which was dimly lit by a light above and masked in shadows.
They got their drinks, drank them down, and got another round. They were milking the party for all that it was worth. Since all of them were so young, being in their early twenties, they still had a lot of party in them; Sirius, being the oldest of the group, had wanted a night like this since the day his name was cleared. It was a way for him to let loose, and go back to the ways that he used to be, way back when James was alive. The door to the pub flung open, and a group of loud, raucous girls came staggering in, the lead one wearing a beautiful tiara. "Tonks?" Harry muttered, wondering if the haze was making him see things.
"Harry?" Tonks questioned, rubbing her eyes. Seeing that it was him, she ran over to him, engulfing him in a hug that knocked him to the floor. She kissed him after pulling him up, and sat on his lap, taking a sip of his drink. Hermione and Lisa both sat on their respective husband's laps as well, wrapping their arms around them lovingly.
"Are you guys drunk?" Hermione asked, looking at the group and seeing the telltale signs of drunkenness.
"They are." Cedric replied, pointing to the other end of the table that housed Harry, Roger, and Sirius. "Viktor is as well, so that's why he's staring at you blankly." He laughed, and then gestured to Neville and the Weasley twins. "Neville is pretty bad, too. The twins are in their own little world, and I'm pretty much the only one who isn't drunk. But," he grinned, chugging the rest of his drink. "That doesn't mean I won't be."
"Yeah," Hermione muttered slowly, eyeing the group. Her group was pretty drunk, too, with Tonks being the worst. Sighing, she knew she would have to take care of them all, since Cedric seemed to be leaving it in her hands. "Cheers!" She whispered, watching as they all guzzled down an amber liquid that seemed as if it could be used as paint remover. The rest of the night passed by, and by four o'clock, the parties had dispersed with Harry and Tonks rushing back to his loft, to spend their last night, not including the eve of their wedding, as an unmarried couple together.
Author's note: Here is the list of which students in Harry's year are purebloods, halfbloods, and muggleborns.
Purebloods:
Boys- Stephen Cornfoot, Ernie Macmillan, Lilyre Moon, Zacharias Smith, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Blaise Zabini, Neville Longbottom, and Ron Weasley.
Girls- Hannah Abbott, Calgary Runcorn, Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, Lincola Spinks, Sophie Roper, and. Lisa Turpin.
Halfbloods:
Boys- Harry Potter, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Wayne Hopkins, Michael Corner, and Terry Boot.
Girls- Padma Patil, Pavarti Patil, Su Li, Mandy Brocklehurst, Tracey Davis, Millicent Bulstrode, Lavender Brown, Arethusa Rivers, Susan Bones, Morag, MacDougal, and Megan Jones.
Potter, Patil, Bulstrode, Rivers, Bones, MacDougal, and Jones are all pureblood names.
Muggleborns:
Hermione Granger, Sally-Anne Perks, Kevin Entwhistle, Anthony Goldstein, and Justin Finch-Fletchley.