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: Next chapter will most likely be the wedding, though I could be editing more into it, pushing it back another chapter: I did decide, however, not to have an extended wedding chapter, instead I'm having it short and sweet, as there's no need to have a big, huge thing.
S/N 2: Red herrings, red herrings, oh how I love thee. And, yes, Harry's wand is a different one from the one he has in the books.
Chapter 15: Rehearsing the day
"Now, Mr. Potter," Ollivander whispered (though his voice carried around the room), walking over to the windowsill where a few wands sat, displayed to the patrons of Diagon Alley. He reached down, taking the black wand that was on a dusty, purple pillow into his hands; his moon-like silver eyes gazing at it intensely. "This wand was one of the first that I ever made—I remember every wand I've ever made. Ebony, 12 ¾, and limber, single phoenix tail feather: good for charm work. It's a very powerful wand, son. Go on, give it a try."
Harry gripped the wood and flicked it. Immediately, sparks jetted out of the tip, as if they were small, bright fireworks. They rushed up into the air, blue of color, before bursting out in gold, disappearing. Harry grinned, knowing that this was his wand, and it would learn and grow with him as he traveled through the world of magic. It would be his conduit, his friend; it would allow him to channel all that was inside of him, empower him, and maybe even teach him.
"Interesting, very interesting." Ollivander muttered, looking Harry over. His silver eyes were as wide as saucers, showing his curiosity. There have been a few people as difficult as Harry was come through his wand shop, and all of them had turned out to be the greatest wizards of the age: Albus Dumbledore and Tom Riddle being the main two. He remembered the day that young Tom Riddle had received his wand, he had immediately written off to Dumbledore, telling the wise wizard the circumstances of the purchase.
"Excuse me," Harry said, politely. He was a little freaked out by Ollivander's constant stare, finding it creepy. Being locked in a cupboard for most of his life, and otherwise unnoticed, the attention he was getting gave Harry an awkward feeling. "But what's interesting?" He asked, wondering what it was about his wand that had peaked the older man's interest.
"The phoenix feather that's in that wand came from a phoenix who's only given one; that wand has sat on that pillow for close to a hundred years. It's interesting that you, Harry Potter, the only known person to survive a killing curse, should be picked to wield that wand." Ollivander told him, still gazing at Harry inquisitively. "I think we should expect great things from you, Mr. Potter."
Harry jutted up in his bed; sweat was dripping off of his brow. Strange, he thought to himself, remembering the dream of his wand: it was as if his wand was calling out to him. He reached over to his nightstand, making sure his ebony wand was still there. Sure enough, it was right where he left it the night before, untouched. His green eyes flipped over to the bedside clock; seeing that it was still early, he rolled over, and wentback to sleep.
The next morning, Canteen's Catering had came and set up, then left without any problems, promising to be their early on Saturday for the reception. Andromeda and Ted had overseen it, as Nymphadora and Harry were sleeping in, taken care of their hangovers with a good night's sleep. By midday, however, the pair had risen and was rehearsing the wedding ceremony with Sirius, Remus, the Tonks', and Cedric. It would be quick, they realized, barely over the fifteen-minute mark, though the party after would be around five hours.
After the rehearsal, while the rest of the attendees were either inside the manor or had gone back home to get ready for the dinner later that night, Tonks and Harry were in the backyard, walking hand in hand. Harry grinned mischievously, and turned into his animagus form, galloping across the green grass. Turning his attention back to Tonks, the animal chased at her, his head bouncing up and down: he looked like a happy dog. She shrieked, and ran away, laughing all the while. She didn't get far, however, as she tripped, being born clumsy, and he pounced on her, pinning her lightly to the ground with his big, white paws.
"Get off of me, you big oaf!" Tonks giggled, trying to push the white tiger off of her. "You breath smells like kitty litter." The tiger licked her face, his tongue tickling her cheery cheeks. "Stop, stop, that tickles!" She laughed again, wishing she was stronger than what she was, so she would be able to push him off.
Harry rolled off of her, resting his large tiger head on her stomach. She petted him behind his ears, making him purr—which sounded like a low growl or cough—in response. With a pop, he turned back into a human, keeping his head on her stomach. He moved his hands above his head, and began to tickle her, making her continue the laughter from before. "This is for the kitty litter crack." He said, smiling.
"I'm sorry, okay," Tonks giggled, unable to control herself. "Your breath smelled minty-fresh." Apparently satisfied, he stopped tickling her, and turned back into a tiger, rising to his feet and running around. Tonks also rose to her feet, patting the wrinkles out of her top robe: it was long and purple, though she had a muggle-like t-shirt of the Weird Sisters underneath it. "Harry, baby, come here, I want to give you something." She said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a package wrapped in quidditch paper.
Harry pranced over to her in his tiger form, transforming back to a human just a few feet away from her. "What is this?" He questioned, accepting the gift and studying it. She gestured to it as an answer, making him open it to see. Doing as he was told, he ripped open the package, and took out the gift. They were a pair of black cotton socks that had nothing magical about them, making them normal muggle ones. "Socks?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow, amusedly.
"Yeah, socks." Tonks nodded, slowly, her gaze on the ground. "Just in case you get cold feet tomorrow. Those can keep them warm, you know?" She looked up at him, her eyes showing an innocence and frailty that was never there before. It was as if she was a scared little girl, nervous that her whole world would crumble sooner or later. Though she was the bravest person Harry had ever met, in this scenario her bravery was zapped out of her.
"Cold feet from me should be the least of your worries, Nymphie." Harry said softly, as he ran a hand along her cheek. He kissed it gently, lingering there for just a second, and then pulled back, smiling. "The only thing you should worry about, honey, is making sure that tomorrow is the happiest day of your life. That, and having me not spoil you." He finished with a grin.
"Why would I not want you to spoil me?" She replied, sticking her tongue out at him, playfully. Then, reaching into her other pocket, she took out a black felt box: it was small, barely the size of a palm of a hand. "This is what I really wanted to give you." She said, handing it over to him. He opened the box up, and revealed a golden ring with an emerald stone. It, like Nymphadora's engagement ring, had a P in the center of it, signifying the Potter family.
"Tonks…this is…where did you get this? It's too much. You can't…you can't…" He rambled, not knowing how to react. He was the one to give big, extravagant presents, not Tonks. It was shocking to the man to receive such a gift, having never gotten one like it before.
"I've been saving up for it." Tonks replied, shrugging, while taking the ring out of the box and putting it on his right ring finger. "I love you, Harry, and I always will. Why can't I do something nice for you once in awhile? Take it, and know that it shows how much I love you, okay?" She leaned in and gave him a tender, lingering kiss, biting his lip lightly. He kept his eyes closed for a few seconds, reveling in the feeling that she gave him. "I love you." She whispered, taking his hand, and dragging him back to the house.
Later that night, all of their friends had come by for the rehearsal dinner: Roger and Lisa, Cedric, Viktor and Hermione, Gaetana, Remus, Sirius, Kingsley, and Ted and Andromeda. Harry and Tonks had given them, those who had not seen it before, the tour of the place, which they had to rant and rave until they got it, and then moved onto the dinner. It was elegant and peaceful, with the conversation steering away from the impending nuptials. After dinner, they had all moved into the grand living room, and sat about, discussing different topics.
"So, tell me, what is it that Hermione does?" Sirius questioned, eyeing the girl as she made her way over to them. Harry's attention flicked to her as well, as she stared quizzically towards them. She had milk-white skin and light freckles, bushy brown hair, brown eyes, and a button nose. When she was younger, her front teeth were rather large, though, being older and bigger, she grew into them. "She seems like such a clever girl, and Remus said she was one of the most intelligent wizards of your generation."
"She's," Harry began, biting his lip, as if having an internal debate "She's a librarian." He said, finally. "She works in the record department of the Ministry."
"Talking about me?" Hermione asked, taking a seat in one of the chairs across from Harry. She looked at him, pointedly, raising a questioning eyebrow.
"Yeah, actually, we were." He smiled. "I was just telling Sirius that you're a librarian." He emphasized the word librarian, as he cocked an eyebrow at her. She narrowed her gaze to him, studying him with her brown eyes. Then, with a slight nod, she seemed to answer an unasked question. Harry leaned closer to Sirius, his voice barely above a whisper—though most of the people in the room already knew what he was about to say. "She's an Unspeakable: she works in the Department of Mysteries. She specifically works on studying the powerful magic of the House-elf."
Sirius' eyes went wide, as they turned to Hermione. She gave him a small smile, and put her finger up to her lips, telling him to keep his mouth shut. "Of course." He nodded, knowing how important it was for an Unspeakable to stay a secret, hidden from the world except to those close to them. Those who were known to the public as a whole were delegated to bottom jobs, not being privy to the real secrets of the department.
"So," Harry smiled, turning his full attention to Sirius. "How was it? Did it feel good to ride it again?" Harry said, talking about Sirius' flying motorbike. Hagrid had returned it to him a few days ago, and the man had ridden it all the way from Grimmauld Place.
Sirius grinned, nodding enthusiastically. "I can't believe Hagrid still had it after all this time: twenty years." He had done a quick check up of it yesterday morning, before Harry's party, and had added a charm that would allow it to go just as fast as a broom would. Along with that charm, it already had a size increasing charm, which allowed it to expand when needed, an invisibility booster, allowing it and all aboard to become invisible, and a few other precautionary charms. He was proud of it, and thrilled to have it back, loving it for the piece of his past that it represented: his rebellious nature.
Meanwhile, across the room, Lisa and Tonks were engaged in a conversation. It was shallow and pleasant, not forcing either to focus too much, instead allowing them to enjoy each other's company. "So Tonks, are you guys going on your honeymoon right after?" Lisa questioned, taking a sip out of her glass.
"No," Tonks pouted, shaking her head, not liking the fact that she wouldn't get to go away after her wedding. "We can't because Monday is when Quidditch practice begins for Harry, so we have to wait until after the World Cup. Though, we are going to Chez Sol, you know, the resort in Matreville, for the night."
"Matreville? That's the all-wizarding town on the Mediterranean, right?" Lisa questioned, hearing the name before. Matreville was like Hogsmeade, though much larger and had a lot more wizarding folk within its boundaries.
"You got it." Tonks nodded, happily. It would be here first time at Matreville, and she couldn't wait to experience it, having heard so much about the village.
"Harry, can we speak with you for a moment?" Andromeda said pleasantly, as her and Ted came up to the man. They were both smiling with a look of anticipation and excitement on their features. Ted had his hands clasped behind his backing, seemingly holding something, though Harry didn't know what.
"Sure," Harry replied, rising to his feet. He gripped Sirius' shoulder, as if to tell him he'd be back, before following his future in-laws out of the room, and to the patio in the back. "What's up?" He questioned, closing the door behind him. He waved his wand to the lights off to the side, alighting the area so they could see.
"We wanted to give you something." Ted said, handing Harry a brown wooden box. Looking at it, Harry opened it up slowly, wondering just what it was. His breath hitched in his throat as it was revealed to him: it was a golden pocket watch, with a P crest on the top of it, an insignia that was an exact replica of the one that was on his and Nymphadora's rings. It was similar to the one that could be found on the manor's gate, but without a shield.
"Wow, this is marvelous." Harry told them, taking the watch out of the box and running a finger over it. The metal was cold in Harry's hands, though the springtime air was warm and breezy. "I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything, sweetie." Andromeda smiled, pulling him into a hug. "We love you, and are very proud that Tonks found a man as good and loving as you are. We couldn't ask for anything more." She whispered in his ear.
"Thank you." Harry whispered back, hugging her with both arms. It felt good to Harry to know the touch of motherly love: that's what Andromeda was to him, his mother. "It means a lot to me, honestly."
Pulling back from the hug, he attached the watch to his robe, allowing it to dangle above his waist. They all smiled at each other, then turned and strolled back into the party, where Viktor and the rest were getting up from their respective chairs and heading towards the stairs. "Ah, what are we doing?" Harry questioned, taking Tonks' hand in his own, and following them up.
"Quidditch, anyone?" Sirius answered, laughing slightly. Viktor had started a frenzy when he said he wanted to try out the attic quidditch pitch, and that's where they were heading. "I haven't ridden a broom in such a long time." Sirius sighed, Azkaban Prison creeping into his thoughts again: so much time lost.
"How long?" Harry asked, his eyes flicking over to his godfather. Sirius bit his lip, thinking back through all the years. "Since I was in my last year at Hogwarts, when I was seven-teen. So I guess twenty-six years." He snorted, knowing how bad that sounded. He always liked flying a broom back in his early years; sure, he was no James Potter when it came to skill, but still, he found it enjoyable.
The group entered the attic, and looked up at the charmed, sun lit ceiling that swirled with clouds. Harry jogged over to a door that no one had noticed before, flicked his wand, and threw it open. The others followed him in, and noticed it was a broom shed that housed eight to ten Cleansweep Sevens. All of his good brooms and quidditch accessories were on the first floor, mounted in a broom closet akin to the one he had back in the loft; it had posters hanging on the walls, books about quidditch, and brooms and uniforms on display. This room, however, was pretty barebones with just the brooms, and a set of quidditch balls.
"Cleansweeps?" Roger scoffed, playfully, taking down one of the brooms. "Couldn't spring for Firebolts, could you?" He jested, handing one of the brooms over to his wife. Lisa shrugged, taking it and running off.
Harry laughed, rolling his eyes. "It's the skill of the flyer that matters, Rogey, not the brooms. So, when you get passed by your wife, don't blame the broom." Viktor and Cedric laughed, earning an angry glare from Roger.
"Hey!" Lisa pouted, acting affronted. "I'm not so bad." True, she wasn't as good of a flyer or a player as Viktor or Harry, maybe even Cedric and Roger, but at least she tried, and in her mind, that's all that mattered.
"No," Cedric grinned, slapping Roger on the back. "But Roger is." In truth, Roger and Cedric were of the same skill level, having both played during Hogwarts: Roger for Ravenclaw and Cedric for Hufflepuff.
Those who were playing took off into the air, while the rest—Hermione, Andromeda, Ted, and Remus—plopped down onto a grassy hill that was next to the broom closet. It was a fun game, with Harry and Viktor playing the keepers, allowing the rest to shoot and score on them. Before long, the night passed by, and everyone went home, intent on getting a good night's sleep for the big day tomorrow.
AN: The big, burly, cocky wizard from two chapters ago wasn't Ron: it was just a nameless guy, that's all—though he might come back sometime. As for Ron: the reason why he wasn't there at the party is because he and Harry aren't friends. I thought I showed that enough in the beginning chapters, but I guess not, oh well.