Chapter Summary: Harry determines whether or not he is a ghost.

Chapter 2: A Memorable Birthday

The horrified faces of Ron and a vaguely familiar Unspeakable faded from view as Harry fell backwards. Surprise turned to resignation as Harry thought, so this is it. He had hoped, after the war was won, that he could live a relatively normal life. He found himself rather annoyed that after surviving a point-blank killing curse cast from Voldemort, himself, for the second time in his life, that he was dying – and this time it was from a dumb accident. I knew I shouldn't have gone to the Department of Mysteries, he thought.

As the dim light of the Death Chamber receded, the whispers from beyond the veil grew louder and Harry made out a few words amongst the babble of familiar voices.

" – shouldn't be –" Remus.

" – best prank – " Fred.

" – so sorry…" Sirius.

"Go back." Dad.

Harry gulped. He only knew his father's voice from a wretched, disappointing Pensieve memory, a shade from Priori Incantatem, and the Resurrection Stone. He longed to hear his voice again but had mixed feelings about the man. As if recalling the memory of his father being a bully, another voice made itself known.

"Find me." Snape.

Must I?

"Trust him." Mum.

Mum.

A swell of emotion came over Harry, confusing and difficult to identify. It was part-love, part-grief, part-longing, part-joy. She was the reason he was the Boy Who Lived twice over. He strained to hear her voice again, waiting for Kings Cross Station to emerge from the darkness. But it never did.

With great effort, Harry turned his focus outward to his surroundings and noticed that while it was very dark, it was also somewhat stuffy, which was curious. And the more he focused, the more he realized he was laying down on something lumpy. Harry furrowed his brow in confusion.

Am I a ghost?

Harry decided that fate as a ghost would be rather terrible when he had so many people waiting on the Other Side. He promptly poked at the lumpy thing he was laying on. His finger met resistance and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Not a ghost, then.

Curious and confused, Harry began to sit up only to freeze in place at a soft, muffled thud. Shifting uncomfortably, he strained his ears, recognizing the sound of quietly approaching footsteps. A vague familiarity washed over him, too murky to pinpoint, as he felt for his wand. It wasn't there. Harry's heart raced as he began frantically patting himself down, reaching the point of full-blown panic when he realized he was not even wearing the robes he had been when he fell through the veil. Though it was still too dark to see anything, and his pulse was pounding in his ears, Harry was aware when the footsteps stopped nearby, and he forced himself to take a deep, shuddering breath in an effort to calm down.

A sharp rap came to his left followed by an unmistakable shrill voice that caused Harry's insides to knot up in consternation, "Up! Get up! Now!"

Harry's heart stopped.

He recognized Aunt Petunia's voice. His last interaction with the Dursley's had been the awkward farewell just before his disastrous exit from Privet Drive and a glad-you-lived card from Dudley after the dust had settled from the final battle.

Why – how – what?!

"Are you up yet?" she snapped in irritation.

Harry opened and closed his mouth, gaping through the darkness like a fish, before finally stuttering, "Y-yes…"

"Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday."

Duddy's birthday? It's not June… Harry was completely bewildered. What had happened? He felt around on the left wall for a latch before slowly pushing the door to the cupboard under the stairs open. Assaulted by the light, Harry scrunched his eyes shut, muttering, "Right, glasses," as he began fumbling behind him, an automatic motion several years removed. Resting the glasses on his nose, he slowly squinted his eyes open and climbed out of the cupboard, absentmindedly wondering how he had fit in there in the first place. Eyes now wide open, he took in the sight of the impeccable sitting room filled to the brim with photographs of a young Dudley. He was staring at the pictures, idly wondering where the rest of them were, when Petunia curiously peered into the hallway to see what was taking Harry so long.

"What are you up to?" she snapped, suspiciously. Harry started violently and whirled around, pale and wide-eyed. "You aren't sick, are you? Never mind the bacon, if you're sick. I'll not have you anywhere near us!"

"I- I'm not sick," he finally said. "Just…" he shook his head and looked up at her with a small smile. "Bad dream, that's all." Aunt Petunia continued to look at Harry suspiciously as he sidled past her into the kitchen and made his way to the stove. She stared at him for one last moment before heading up the stairs to wake Dudley.

As soon as she was gone, Harry clutched the counter with both hands and began breathing heavily. He was tiny again, his family was back in Number 4 Privet Drive, and he had found himself in his old cupboard. What in the name of Merlin was going on? It appeared as if he had somehow come back in time, but surely that couldn't be? Thoughts and emotions whirled through Harry's mind, leaving a confusing mess, but at the sound of movement upstairs, he finally turned to the now-finished bacon and decided to just 'go with the flow' for the time being. What I wouldn't give for Hermione right now, Harry thought morosely, she would know what to do.

A great galumphing on the stairs announced the presence of one Dudley Dursley, a boy much larger than Harry, but much smaller than he remembered. Ah well, give it some time. Harry chuckled to himself at the memory of an older Dudley, swollen like a baby whale, as he brought the bacon and some fried eggs to the table.

"What are you laughing at, boy?" his Uncle Vernon glared suspiciously over the top of his newspaper.

Harry smiled vaguely at him as he squeezed the food onto the present-laden table. "Nothing," he replied innocently. Vernon's eyes narrowed accusingly, but any remark he was about to make was cut off by the beginnings of an impressive tantrum from Dudley who had just discovered he had received fewer presents than the previous year. While this was nearly an annual occurrence, the familiar placating words Petunia spoke to her greedy son caused Harry to suspect he knew when he was. A telephone call from Mrs. Figg explaining that she had broken her leg and could not watch over Harry confirmed his suspicion. It was Dudley's eleventh birthday, which meant it was the summer he would be receiving his first Hogwarts letter. Assuming this isn't some elaborate setup and I've really come back in time somehow. His mind flickered to the mysterious hourglass he had found just before falling through the veil. However, he was unable to dwell on it as he was swept up in the activity of the morning.

Before long, he found himself scrunched in the backseat of Vernon's shiny new car with Dudley and his friend and fellow bully, Piers Polkiss. Harry had been unprepared to see Piers when he walked in the Dursley's front door. A scrawny boy with a rat-like face, he vividly reminded Harry of a much younger Peter Pettigrew, a man worthy of as much hate as Voldemort as far as he was concerned. Thankfully, none of the Dursley's noticed the fierce scowl on Harry's face when he spotted Piers, but the other boy did and narrowed his eyes threateningly, not daring to say anything in front of Mr. and Mrs. Dursley.

When they finally arrived at the zoo, Vernon sent a glare at Harry, reminding him that any "funny business" would result in him being locked in his cupboard until Christmas, before setting off. As they wandered through the zoo, looking at exotic animals, Harry trailed as far behind the others as he was able, contemplating his predicament. He had moved from the question of "How did I get here?" dismissing it as something he probably wouldn't understand, but most likely had to do with the mysterious hourglass and the damnable veil, to other questions, such as "What do I do now?" He thought back to the voices of the deceased he had heard in the veil, Snape's words getting under his skin. Find me. Harry shuddered. He did not foresee any interaction with that wizard going well.

Deep in thought, Harry was oblivious to his surroundings until he bumped into Aunt Petunia's back. She whirled around and hissed at him to watch where he was going. After a hasty apology, Harry looked around and noticed they were in the reptile room, and sure enough, to his left was a glass case containing a large boa constrictor, just as he remembered. Dudley and Piers peeled their noses from the glass with disappointed sighs and moved on to look at a couple of pythons.

Harry stared at the boa, with his hands in his pockets, contemplating snakes and Parseltongue, which inevitably led to the more unpleasant thoughts of dark lords, basilisks, and man-eating horcrux-carrying familiars. It was a shame he lost the Parseltongue ability when the horcrux in his head was killed.

Wait.

Hold on.

Harry's heart beat wildly in his chest as his hand crept up to his scar. It didn't feel awful or dark or tingly. But it never really had, had it? Not unless Voldemort or another horcrux were nearby. There was only one way to be certain.

Harry walked up to the glass and, after glancing around to make sure no one would overhear, whispered, "Hello." The boa raised its head and looked at Harry piercingly before winking in greeting.

Uh-oh.

He's a horcrux again. Because of course.

No reason to be impolite to the snake he just greeted, though.

"Sorry about them," Harry said, nodding his head over his shoulder at the other two boys. The snake merely shook its head and raised its eyes to the ceiling as if to say that it happens all the time.

Before Harry could say anything else, a deafening shout behind him made both him and the snake jump, "DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!"

The constant feeling of déjà vu Harry had been experiencing all day multiplied as Dudley waddled over and punched him in the ribs, effectively knocking him out of his way. Bloody buggering git, Harry thought as he landed on the floor with a thud. At that precise moment the glass that the bullying boys had their noses pressed to vanished and the boa constrictor made its escape.

Oops! Harry thought, not at all chagrined. He grinned delightedly when Dudley and Piers shrieked as the snake slithered past them and winked in response to a hissed, "Thankssss, amigo."

The ride home was less than agreeable as Vernon kept shooting glares at Harry through the rearview mirror while turning an ugly shade of puce. As soon as Piers left the house, Harry was sent to his cupboard with no meals, as he expected, and Petunia prepared a large brandy for her husband.