"Ugh," was all Harry was really able to say, as he found himself back in the world of the living.
'Getting back in a body must be harder than getting out,' thought Harry, not daring to move or open his eyes, afraid it would intensify the pain. 'It feels like Bludgers are mating in my head.'
Eyes closed tight, Harry lay there, listening to the sound of a bird singing. He found that if he focused on the tune coming from the bird, he could almost pretend that there wasn't any pain at all.
He could feel the emotions coming from the animal. Happiness, excitement, playfulness, and gratitude, were just a few of the feelings he was getting from it.
For a second he felt that maybe the bird was singing for him, as a thank you, but quickly dismissed it as the pain playing tricks on his mind. Why would a bird have any reason to thank him?
How long he listened to it he would never know. What he did know was that as it finished and flew away, his pain was all gone except for a dull ache that was running though his body.
Feeling that it was finally safe to move, he started to sit up, slowly rising not wanting to increase the ache in his body. Putting his hand out to support his weight, he felt his hand come in contact with something.
Finally opening his eyes, to see what he had touched, he looked down to see a photograph. Picking it up to see who all was in it, he gasped at what he found.
From the confines of the frame he saw nine people standing together in front of a pond, five of which he had seen before.
Standing all the way to the left was a couple that where older than all the rest in the picture but didn't look a day over forty. They were holding each other with peaceful smiles on their faces. The man had untamable brown hair and wore wire thin glasses over blue eyes. The women that the man was holding had long black hair, which was kept out of her face by a hair pin, showing off deep chocolate eyes.
Harry had seen them both in the Mirror of Erised. They were Charlus and Dorea Potter, Harry's grandparents.
Moving on to those beside them, he came across two men who had been like fathers to him, in his last life. Lupin and Sirius stood side by side, the former giving a soft smile as he waved, the latter with a huge grin giving a thumbs up to the camera.
Harry couldn't help but smile at the two, thinking that nothing would ever change them.
James Potter was the next in line, with a smile that was as big, if not bigger than Sirius's. His skin had a natural tan that with his untamable black hair, made his brown eyes stand out from under his glasses.
To the right holding James's hand was Lily, she had cream white skin, which stood out against her freckles, and long dark red hair. All in all she looked like a living goddess, but her most becoming feature wasn't her skin or hair, but her deep green eyes that seemed to glow with love.
Seeing them like this Harry couldn't help but to shed tears. He had seen pictures of his parents before, but none of them had ever shown them looking so... alive.
As he tried to get control over himself, movement drew his eyes away from his parents to the sight of two girls running and chasing back and forward in front of the group.
The smallest had to be at most four. She had long red hair that trailed behind her, as she ran/stumbled away from the older girl. Taking a closer look you could see that she was covered head to toes, in freckles just like Lily, but she had James dark brown eyes. Her face was aglow with laughter from the joy of playing tag.
'So this is my baby sister,' thought Harry, a wide grin on his face from watching the tiny redhead play. 'Then that means that the other girl is also my sis-' But he never finished the thought, as at that moment, the older girl caught the younger one, giving Harry his first good look at the eldest of the two.
She had short black hair that only reached her chin, its color looking even darker if possible against, her snow white skin that had a light dusting of freckles across her small button nose. Her eyes, the same green as her mothers, held in them a fierce love and protectiveness for the small girl, that was so great that it would make even the bravest Death Eater, think twice before messing with her. To Harry there was only one way to sum her up.
"Beautiful," he whispered, as his eyes searched her face hungrily.
It took a few seconds for Harry to realize what had slipped past his lips, shaking it off as nothing more than a reaction that any brother would have seeing his younger sister for the first time, moved on to the final person in the shot.
Standing a good distance away from the rest of the group was a lone figure leaning against a tree, which was only half way in the picture. From how they were standing all you could really tell was that they were young and that the person seemed to be very tense, as if fighting to control themselves. They had long hair that hung to their shoulder's that was so red it seemed almost unnaturally so.
'It's the color of strawberries and blood,' thought Harry, feeling a chill run up his spin from the comparison.
As if feeling Harry's discomfort, the figure turned its head, pulling their hair behind their ear trying to keep it out of there face. In doing so Harry saw unknowingly for the first time, his current body.
His skin was as dark as James, but held none of the freckles that had graced the other two children's faces, his face held traces of roundness, from child hood, but showed signs that in the future, would turn angular. The more Harry looked at him the more of Lily he saw. His lips, nose, and eyes were all Lily. That's when Harry realized that this was the new him.
'That's what Kar meant by taking more after my mother,' thought Harry, as his unoccupied hand reached up tracing his face.
Wanting to see his face from a better view, he reached for his wand, only to find that it was gone.
"Damn it," cursed Harry, his panic rising at the thought of being wandless, until he remembered that he wasn't being chased by Death Eaters anymore, and the only wand he would have with him at the moment would be his broken holly and phoenix one, which he kept in the moleskin pouch, that Hagrid had given him for his seventeenth birthday.
"I'm going to have to take a trip to Diagon Alley," he said, as he got up looking around the room. "It just feels wrong not having one."
The bedroom he was in was very large, it had a huge bed, a desk, a couple of bookcases, all of which were full, and finally a door that looked like it might lead to closet.
Hanging on the wall beside one of the bookcases was a Nimbus 2000. The only problem that Harry could see with it was that it was dusty. Thinking the old Harry must have left it dusty just to show who ever got it for him that he never touched it, he shook his head in disgust. Harry was going to change, he was going to make sure that he put it to good use, at least until they started to sell the Firebolt again.
Setting the picture down he started heading for the door he hoped lead to a closet. Opening it he came face to face with a room that would make Parvati and Lavender die of jealousy.
It was packed full of clothing for all occasions, fine dress robes, muggle suits, even things that wouldn't look out of place on Bill Weasley. 'He must have really liked to play dress up,' thought Harry, trying to take in the size of room. The closet had to be at least half the size of the bedroom.
"I wonder how much pride he had to swallow to ask someone to put a space expansion charm on this place," Harry asked himself, laughing at what he was sure had to have been a funny sight.
Seeing a mirror on the other side of the room, he moved on stopping here and there looking at clothes he was excited to wear. 'I'll finally get to wear something that hasn't been stretched across Dudley's fat ass,' he thought, with a satisfied look. Happy to have clothing that would fit him.
Finally reaching the mirror, he received his first good look at himself; he seemed to be older by at least a year, evident by the lack of roundness to his face. With only sleeping pants on, he saw that he had a flat stomach, though not really having any real muscle to talk about, but his body had a shape that showed that all he would have to do was continue working out like he, Ron, and Hermione had been toward the end of their adventure, and he would have a body most would kill for.
Looking at himself, he wondered if he had grown up with a loving family in the first timeline, would he have looked anything like this. Of course he wouldn't have the same red hair that he did now, which was currently pulled back in a lose knot on the crown of his head. The years of living in a dark cupboard and not being feed enough had wreaked havoc on his body.
The only reason he had grown so tall in his last life was for the fact that Madam Pomfrey had gotten the elves at Hogwarts to feed him potions, to help fight malnutrition. Ron had been the one to tell him this, having only found this out himself, because he had walked in on her giving his mother the same potions asking for when Harry was around in the summer to make sure Harry received them.
Smiling at thoughts of Mrs. Weasley, Harry untied the ribbon that had been holding his hair up, as it fell he couldn't help but remember the burst of blood as the sword exited Voldemort's throat, for some reason this excited him.
With morbid thoughts running through his head, he stood in front of the mirror running a hand threw his hair, drinking in his appearance.
Before he had started attending Hogwarts, his favorite part of his appearance had always been his lighting bolt shaped scar. When he had found out that it was a mark left by his family's murder, he began to resent not only it, but anyone who heard his name and would look at it before meeting his eyes.
Seeing himself like this, he couldn't help but feel that getting the attention of others wouldn't be so bad. In fact maybe it would be a good idea to show the world, what all he could do. After all hadn't Kar said that he should do his best? Who was he to disagree with a god?
What Harry didn't know was that the god in question that had just passed through his thoughts, was watching and didn't like what he was hearing. "I guess I'm going to have to show up in that dream tonight."
Snapping out of his thoughts of his own grandeur, he figured it was time to get clothed and make his way to the family library, hoping to find out how different this world's past was to his own.
Slipping on a black shirt, and cargo shorts, he made his way out of his closet, and headed for the door. Just as he reached it, there was a banging on the other side.
"HEY ASS, OPEN UP!"
Now normally if a person was to hear someone banging on their door, while cussing them they wouldn't open the door. However if you were raised as Harry had been then you know that the longer you kept the other person waiting the madder they would get. So with this in mind he quickly opened the door.
This as it turns out, was a very bad idea.
On the other side was his black haired sister. As he caught sight of her two things popped in to his mind.
The first of which was how the picture hadn't done her justice. The snow white skin, dusting of freckles, and black hair, seemed to make her intense eyes, all the more expressive. It was as he realized what they were expressing was what made the second thing pop up in his mind.
'She's going to kill me.'
"You think you can get away with anything don't you," she asked, as she advanced on him.
"I-I don't know what you mean," replied Harry trying and failing to back away from the enraged girl.
"Don't play that innocent crap with me. Everyone knows you're the one behind all the "accidents" that happens around here."
"Really, I have no clue what you're talking about," said Harry, trying to push his honesty into each word. Forgetting that in a way it was him who had done everything.
"Oh really, well then explain this then." In her hand was a china doll, with half its head missing. "What did you think that you would do, send me a message? Something like, if you ever rat me out to mom again something bad is going to happen to you," she said in a tone that was clearly supposed to sound like him.
"Well you know what I'm not scared of you, so if you're going to do something then do it."
It hit Harry at that moment that he most likely was the one who had broken it. Harry only thinking of one thing to do, did just that.
"I'm sorry," he said, sounding like a hurt puppy. "I know I haven't been the best big brother, but I intend to make it up to not only you but everyone else as well. I want to be worthy of being a part of this family."
Staring at him with her mouth hanging open, she didn't know what to do. Never in all of her nine, almost ten years, had she ever heard the words "I'm sorry" leave his mouth. It was so shocking that she forgot about her anger at him, too lost in her thoughts to continue being mad at him.
"Listen, I'll get you a new one, it's the least I can do to make up for it," spoke Harry, the care he had for the young girl before him showing in each word.
His words knocking her out of her stupor, she felt happiness at his words. 'Maybe he means it,' she thought, but at that moment she looked at the doll in her hand, it was in the same hand that had been cut on his birthday. Even to this day, it still hurt on occasion.
Remembering this brought her thoughts back to who had given her the cut, Harry Potter, the boy who had always been around when something was stolen, or when an animal went missing. In the past few years he was the one who had been there when anyone was in an accident. He didn't mean his words, this was just another one of his set ups, and she wasn't going to fall for it.
Forcing the best smile she could she asked, "Really you mean it?"
Harry after years of dodging his uncles fists, Bludgers, and the spells that always seemed to fly his way, he had a bit of a sixth sense when he was around someone who wanted to cause him bodily harm. He had taken to calling it his spider sense after seeing an American cartoon one Saturday, where the hero had an ability to tell when danger was near.
As he was trying to come up with something to say that would calm her down, he heard the sound of something hitting the floor. Looking down he saw that the china doll had fallen from her hand. Bending to pick it up, his spider sense tingled just before he felt something hard connect with his face, and saw a burst of light behind his eyes.
Stumbling from the blow, Harry looked up to see her holding her hand, hopping in place with a chant of " ow, ow, ow, ow".
Ignoring the pain he was feeling in his head, he rushed over to her.
"Are you alright, let me see it?"
"Don't touch me," she spat at him. "I know you don't care about me. All you want to do is see how bad it is don't you?"
Harry, knowing that these words where meant not for him but for the old Harry, couldn't help but feel hurt at them.
"In the past that might have been true, but not anymore," he said staring into her eyes. "I swear that I've changed."
"I'm sure you have," each word spoken laced with sarcasm. "I don't know what your new game is but I'm not going to fall for it," saying that she turned and left the room, cradling her injured hand, not bothering to pick up the doll.
'Okay... If she's that pissed about a broken doll, I'm going to have a hard time connecting with her,' he thought as he walked over to pick up the toy.
S2ndC
After leaving his room, where he left the doll, he set out to find the library. As he searched for it he couldn't help but think that this was how a home was supposed to look, clean but not to the point of making one feel unwelcome. Nice furnishing, but didn't look like a museum. Every room had its own style, like someone, had changed their mind in each room about how they wanted to decorate, but instead of looking tacky, it made it all the better.
Searching all the rooms on the second floor, beside those with name plaques, indicating it was someone's room. When he had come across his parent's room, it had been hard for him not to break the door down, just to go see them, but not knowing when they usually woke up, didn't want to take a chance of waking them and putting them in a bad mood. 'I've already pissed one person off this morning, don't want to do it again,' he thought feeling depressed.
Finding nothing besides spare bedrooms, he headed up to the third floor, wondering how long it was going to take to find the library.
As he climbed the last step he received his answer.
The entire third floor was nothing but books.
"Hermione is going to love this place!"
AN: I'm back and we have alot to talk about.
1st is the poll results: OC(sis) 37, Astoria 35, Gabrielle 31, Lavender 15, Romilda 5. I said in the begining that the group would be anywhere from 4 to 6. It's going to be a group of 5, because the OC was in the lead the whole time, and Gabrielle and Astoria were going back and forward the entire time.
2nd is that the I've picked the power to be given. There where two that kept being picked so I'm going to combine the two.
3rd as for Gabrielle she will be the same age as Astoria. Thank God you picked that, I was didnt look forward to trying to write that kind of relationship.
Finally I have two questions.
What should Harrys wand be made of?
What should his animagus form be?
Once again THANK YOU for the reviews. Leave one this time and tell me what you think.