Harry potter and the Time of Retirement
Everything related to Harry Potter belongs to JKR
Chapter 15
The countryside, completely covered in snow, was passing by fast out of the windows of the Hogwarts Express as the students were going back to their families for their holidays. Harry, sitting in his compartment together with the other Hufflepuff boys, was mentally reviewing what happened in these latest months and what he achieved.
'I could have done more' thought Harry: he still had no idea about what had forced him back in time, he had not captured or killed Riddle yet – although he had a couple ideas on how to progress in that – and he had not... well, done anything noteworthy. His magical skills had progressed a little, sure: which was much more impressive than it sounded, considering his age and already existing experience, but overall what really happened was that he was quietly enjoying this new "old" life and had no desire to rush into anything. Looking around himself at the boys busy chatting, playing and mostly being bored he thought that this was not so bad. No pressure, no stress, only a vague list of objectives to reach at his own pace; and maybe that is what made the difference with his life before the "accident", he now had a couple objectives. And time – lots of it, so much that he could afford to waste some.
Lazily, he kept touring the compartment with his eyes: baggages on the top shelves, and a couple owls among which was Hedwig too. While Harry had visited it semi-regularly during his first months back at Hogwarts, the old link that may have existed once between them was probably gone. Still, the owl seemed happy for how he was taking care of her, and that was good enough in his opinion.
"Checkmate. I won" said Wayne, which was playing chess with Justin.
"Yeah" said Justin with no enthusiasm. It was hard to say if it was due to his defeat, or just out of boredom. Raising his eyes, he noticed Harry looking at him.
"How is it going?"
"More or less as when you asked it one hour ago" was Harry's answer.
"Uff. You know, this trip was much more exciting the first time. They should really invent a teleport spell or something" said Justin.
"There is one already. More than one actually."
"Wait, really? How do you know them?" he asked, incredulous.
"I think everyone here knows how to travel with magic, Justin. Well, except you" said Wayne, while placing the pieces of the game back into its box.
"This is... god. Why do they teach us how to turn beetles into buttons, anyway? Teleporting is ten times more useful" said Justin, putting on a grouchy face.
"You can't learn how to apparate, yet. You should really learn this kind of stuff" said Zacharias from his corner, where he had been slowly chatting with Ernie for a while.
"How?" said Justin.
"I don't know, I don't care" was Zacharias' answer.
"Don't they give you an introduction when they contact you for the first time?" asked Ernie, joining the conversation.
"Yes, but it's not like they went into details. Just stuff about the existence of magic, the ministry and Hogwarts" answered Justin.
"Must be hard for muggleborns, I guess. All those trinkets you talk about, to live without magic. It's just weird" said Ernie.
"Say what you want. I will be playing with my video games this Christmas... keep your magical chess if you like it so much" was his answer.
"I hope you don't play with those stuff too, Potter" said Zacharias.
"Not really. My cousin has some of those, but I never spent too much time on them" said Harry, an ironic smile on his face that could not be understood by the other boys. He could still remember how he actually wanted to play those before Hogwarts, he just never had the chance.
"Good" said Zacharias.
After this, silence fell on the compartment. Wayne and Zacharias took out a book to read, while Ernie just kept watching out of the window. Harry relaxed on his couch, closing his eyes: late in the evening he would have to face his uncle and aunt after decades, and while he felt up for the task it would still be unpleasant.
On his side, Justin seemed to remain restless. After a while, he restarted talking.
"So, Harry, your plans for Christmas?"
Harry opened his eyes and looked at him. That to was a question he already answered several times already.
"Justin, if you are so bored why don't you just tour the train? Everyone else is there."
"I am not really in the mood for that. They are ok, mind you, but to just go and visit by myself would be weird" he said.
"Plus, the other houses sucks pretty bad" said Wayne, without raising his eyes from his book.
"Those damn Gryffindors. I am still angry from yesterday" said Zacharias.
"Not that Slytherins and Ravenclaws are better, eh. Maybe Ravenclaws" said Ernie.
"No, they are boring. Bland. Whatever" said Wayne.
"So, are we the best house of them all? Because they all probably think the same of themselves" said Harry, smiling.
"Name one that you think it's better, Harry" said Ernie. When Harry did not answer, he just laughed softly.
"You see? You are as proud of being a Puff as we are. You just don't show it."
"Maybe, Ernie. Maybe" said Harry, closing his eyes again. With a bit of luck, he thought, he would fall asleep until they arrived.
"Wake up. We arrived" was saying one voice that Harry could not recognize.
Opening his eyes, he noticed from the windows that they were slowing down inside the station; so, like the others, he started pulling down his bags.
"Guys, I guess this is it. I'll see you all on January" said Ernie.
"Sure. Bye all."
"Bye."
Harry was the last of their small group to step down from the train. No Dursleys in sight of course, and Harry after some deliberation decided not to warn them anyway – mostly because a letter sent trough a owl was exactly what could anger them. Everywhere, he could see students rejoining their families with adults talking between them and showing no hurry in leaving the station.
Harry could easily remember how both he and Ginny liked to spend some time here reconnecting with their old friends and acquaintances, people that otherwise would never join back together like this in one place. He could see many familiar faces, and the big group of Weasleys in particular was noticeable.
Wasting no more time Harry walked towards the section of the wall that linked the magical station with its muggle counterpart, as he wanted to apparate straight into his rooms at Little Whinging and it would be easier to do that away from other wizards.
Once outside, he was overwhelmed for a second by the muggle activities all around him: it had been many years since he entered like this into such a populated, non magical area. Still he pressed on with, dragging his luggages – until a tap on his shoulder draw his attention. In front of him was a couple of adults dressed in normal muggle clothes.
"Hello. I am sorry to bother you but, since you have an owl with you, are you a student of Hogwarts?" asked the man, while the woman kept looking at him.
"Yes, I am. May I help you?" said Harry. At this, the man gave a relieved smile.
"We were wondering if the train arrived or not, and if first year students landed. You are the first student we saw."
Parents of a first year, obviously muggle, and the way things tended to get complicated for him... Harry had a feeling he could guess who these people were.
"The train has arrived, but most stop at the station to say goodbye before leaving so your child may take some more minutes. Especially if she is a girl" added Harry, almost uncaring.
"Yes, dear, we have a daughter, Hermione. Do you know her?" asked the woman.
"I do. She is a Gryffindor, I think" said Harry smiling. Inside, he wanted to get away before some unneeded trouble started.
"Yes, exactly! It is so weird for us to read about all those... things you do at school, but it is also fascinating. But, I didn't even ask your name, I am sorry."
"My name is Harry, madame. Now, if you excuse me, I should go. I am sure your daughter will arrive soon" said Harry, collecting his bags again.
"Sure, sure. And thank you" said the man, smiling at him. Harry was about to walk away when...
"What are you doing here, Potter?" said Hermione's voice from behind them.
'Of course' thought Harry. With a sigh, he turned to look at her.
"I was going away."
"Then do it. Fast" she said.
"Hermione, what's wrong with you!" said what was now confirmed to be her mother, in a scandalized voice.
"But mom, he is..." she started, without success.
"I don't care! He has been completely polite, and you must not talk like that" she scolded her.
At this, Hermione lowered her head and said nothing. On the other hand, Harry felt guilty again: a feeling he was starting to associate with the girl, and that was not a change he welcomed.
"I may have been rude to her a couple times, at school, madame. May. And i know how hard it is for muggleborn. Please don't fight because of me."
"What do you know about us, Potter? Everyone cuddles you! The boy who lived" said Hermione, sneering on the last words.
'This bitterness...' thought Harry, a bit surprised. Sadly, he was also expecting the hostility so he decide to just be diplomatic.
"I don't have my parents here waiting for me, Granger. That would beat all this 'cuddling' which, actually, is mostly in your head."
"Are you Harry Potter?" asked Hermione's dad, interrupting them.
"Yes, sir. I wonder what your daughter wrote home about me."
"She told us your story. We are sorry for your parents, kid" added the man, grimacing.
"Thank you" said Harry, a bit surprised. "And i mean it, no one else said that. Everyone at Hogwarts just want to see my scar" said Harry, with a bitter tone.
No one spoke for a second. Finally, Harry restarted talking.
"I should go. I wish you all good holidays. You too, Hermione" said Harry leaving. Hermione did not answer, but her parents muttered a "Goodbye". Harry was pretty sure they would soon have a discussion with their daughter about what just happened; it is what he would have done with his own children, after all.
'I would probably tell them to go easy on the poor orphan who is already under so much attention...' thought Harry, with a bit of sarcasm.
Relieved to have concluded such an awkward moment, Harry moved away in search of a secluded spot. Mindful of the many, many problems the muggle technology created for the aurors in his past, he was particularly mindful of any video camera he could see around.
'Please no more drama' though Harry, while thinking of his relatives waiting at home. He just wanted to spend some days in peace, quiet and shopping once the galleons promised by Dumbledore would arrive.
With a muted, but still noticeable, pop Harry apparated inside his room in Privet Drive. While still uninhabited, the room was dust-free: a perk of aunt Petunia's obsession towards cleanliness. All that remained was to set aside his bags and go downstairs to face his dear old family. He also took the chance to free Hedwig, warning her to come back only at night and all but pushing her out of the window. Finally, he put on a new pair of jeans and a simple t-shirt and seized his wand.
'I hope it won't come to this' thought Harry, placing it in his back pocket and covering it with the shirt. Not only casting magic would mean he failed in reaching an understanding, but it could also trigger the trace that, unfortunately, he was not completely sure if it was still applied to him. Placing the Trace charm was Hogwart's business, and he knew not the details of when and how it was placed nor the details on how it worked beside the general idea that it could be cast only on underage kids and registered any kind of magic cast around them. An imprecise system that still, as his experience as auror told him, worked well enough with students.
In doubt he had decided to cast on himself while at Hogwarts a series of simple general counter charms, the kind that could be found in the library by a curious student, counting on the fact that any small use of magic in dire circumstances would bring no serious consequences anyway unlike using spells that definitely should not have been at his level for now. In any case, avoiding conflicts and frivolous uses of magic was probably the best option until he stayed at Privet Drive.
Once mentally prepared, Harry stepped out of the room and walked downstairs. The sound of the TV suggested that either Dudley or uncle Vernon were there, but since it was late in the evening aunt Petunia would probably be in the kitchen, preparing dinner.
'Where to go, where to go...' thought Harry, unsure on who to approach first. Aunt Petunia was probably calmer, but still secondary to reaching an agreement with Uncle Vernon.
In the end he still decided to start with aunt Petunia, therefore leaving the worse for later. Any chance of a witty introduction line was stole from him though, as she noticed his entrance the second he appeared on the door.
"You?" she said in an almost incredulous voice, before narrowing her eyes.
"Hello, aunt Petunia. I am back for the Christmas break" said Harry evenly but making sure to keep eye contact and of not stepping back when she got closer.
"I... you could have warned us. Don't they teach you manners over there?" she asked.
"I had no telephones available, and I choose not to use our methods of communication" said Harry, evenly, but raising one eyebrow to imply what he meant.
The conversation stalled for a second, as aunt Petunia seemed not to know what to say. Then, harshly, she continued:
"Well, since you are here you might as well make yourself useful. Start washing those carrots on the table."
"I don't mind helping, aunt Petunia" said Harry "but I didn't come back to be a butler. It's really time we talk about my position in your house."
"I knew it! Not even one year in your school for freaks and already you are putting on arrogance! You think you are better than us, now?" she hissed.
'Still beats screaming, and drawing uncle Vernon here' thought Harry tiredly. Outside, though, he kept his calm attitude.
"No. I just think we need an agreement of some kind, now that I know what I am" said Harry, slowly sitting to the table and picking up one of the carrots. "It's obvious you and uncle Vernon are not happy to care for me, but since you allow me to live here we should talk of what you want me to do."
"Didn't I just told you to clean those?" she said in a sarcastic voice.
"So, if I use my methods to do it, it's ok?"
"Don't you dare, you... you..." she started with anger.
"Freak" said Harry, tiredly. "We can't go on like this, aunt Petunia. It's tiring. And it's not normal."
"What do you know about being normal? Since you have been here, you just created problems for us!" she complained hotly. And sadly, Harry thought, she had a point.
"I know that you have to bear the shame of a 'delinquent' nephew, occasional weird events and extra work and expenses due to my presence. I suggest we stop all that."
Aunt Petunia said nothing for a while, then just folded her arms as to challenge him. "How?" she asked, plainly.
"Well, I..." started Harry, only to stop when he heard the sound of Uncle Vernon approaching. 'Great timing, dear Uncle' thought Harry.
"Petunia, is dinner ready? Dudley and I are... oh" said Vernon, while stepping into the room. Surprisingly, he did not instantly start an angry tirade, something Harry half expected. So, he decided to talk first.
"Good evening, Uncle Vernon. I am back for the Christmas break."
Like aunt Petunia he, too, narrowed his eyes before starting to talk in an imperious voice.
"I'll say it only once, boy, and you better listen. Don't use your damn tricks here. Don't even talk about them. I don't want that kind of trash in my house, are we clear!?"
"Yes, we are. I just offered to aunt Petunia to do exactly that, you know" said Harry, evenly.
At this, uncle Vernon appeared surprised, and immediately looked at his wife who, with her silence, confirmed what had just been said. After a second, he regained his self control.
"Good. Then you'll go immediately in your room to stay there and..." he started, raising his hand and getting closer. At this, Harry stood up rapidly and took out his wand, not yet aiming it at anyone. It was enough to froze uncle Vernon for a second before he started turning red with rage.
"I just ordered you not to do that! Put it away, now!" he shouted. Behind him appeared Dudley too, probably drawn by the noise and the absence of both his parents. He seemed almost... scared? Harry had no time or desire to focus on him, though.
"I won't be manhandled, uncle Vernon. And as I was offering aunt Petunia, we should talk of my position here."
"I will not be blackmailed in my house, you ungrateful little freak. Put that away, now" he ordered, taking a step onward – with the only result of having the wand now aimed at his face, something that made him hurriedly step back again.
"Does this drama looks normal to you? It doesn't to me" said Harry, getting ready to cast if necessary. This was not going well, but if he only managed to get his stupid uncle to listen...
"Your freakishness is the only thing unnatural in this house, boy" said uncle Vernon, much more cautiously now.
"What about calling your eleven years old nephew freak? What about the cupboard? Would any of our neighbors approve?" asked Harry. He half hoped they would feel a bit of shame from his accusations, but had it been that easy their conflict would have been solved long ago. 'A lifetime ago' he suddenly thought, when he saw aunt Petunia step in with an angry face.
"If they knew what you truly are, they would! No normal people would accept your... weirdness!"
"Maybe so" he said, resigned to their attitude. "Even then, I doubt anyone here wants to go and check."
No one spoke after that, and Harry lowered his wand and placed it back in his pocket.
"Listen, this is your house and you took me in; I can't imagine why, but you did. I am willing to obey your rules" he said, while watching his uncle in his eyes "but not to be treated like trash. Kick me out or let me live peacefully. I'll show no kind of 'weirdness' in exchange."
"Why should I believe you?" asked his uncle, a little calmer but obviously still hostile.
"You lose nothing by trying" was Harry's answer.
Again, a short pause followed. Finally it was aunt Petunia that talked.
"So, what now?"
"Now, I'll go to my room. If I am allowed to dinner, call me. Otherwise, good night" and, with those words, Harry went out of the kitchen. He felt quite tense when walking aside his uncle, but the man just stared at him while he walked.
'I wonder if he is scared too' he thought.
Unsurprisingly no one called him for dinner that evening, but that did not bother him. Harry had stocked plenty of durable food in his trunk, and his patience for other people had been completely exhausted. So he spent the rest of the day unmaking his baggages and relaxing. His last thought, before turning off the light, was that maybe he could still get something out of this trip back home.
Author's notes: removing the Trace is a fandom staple, and for good reasons. Since most fanfics revolves around Harry doing things differently than in canon, it also require a lot of spell uses that, with the Trace in place, would certainly bring problems with the Ministry. I base my idea of it, as most of the elements of my story, around the Potter wiki where it is described as a charm inapplicable on people over 17years of age that work by registering any use of magic around the kid (which explain what happened with Dobby in book 2) while being disturbed by the presence of a magical environment, to the point of being ineffective. For now, that works well enough and it is consistent with my idea of an extra small, non complex magical world and that is why I made Harry do no serious effort in getting rid of it – he plans not to use magic frivolously at home anyway, and taking the Trace off for sure with advanced magic could expose him eventually.