Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter or Eragon universes.
Big thank you for beta'ing the chapter Bearsona09, Jbacken and androidrainbow!
Ellesméra
"Then I'll show you."
For a few moments, silence followed Harry's words. Sirius still stared into the void as blood dripped from his nose.
"What exactly do you want to show Sirius, Harry?" Arya asked quietly after a brief moment of hesitation, her arms still wrapped around him.
"Not just Sirius… all of you," Harry muttered warily, his eyes darting between the people present like a cornered animal until they rested on Arya and softened.
"I want to show you my memories."
Arya's eyes widened as she remembered the bowl she had seen the first time she entered Harry's trunk.
"The Pensieve," she whispered with a trembling voice, her arms slowly letting go of him. "You want to use it to show us your past… but why?"
So far, Harry had only spoken very vaguely about his past, and she suspected that she knew the reason all too well.
Harry drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second. "Because... because you all have to understand-"
He looked at Sirius, his voice tense. "I'm sorry, Sirius, but you have no clue... Dumbledore kept so much from you about my life. Maybe because he knew you would have killed him on the spot if you found out..."
Harry let out a bitter chuckle at the thought. "Especially after you disappeared through the Veil... you have no idea what happened afterward… What he put me up to do."
He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump in his throat. "You need to know the reasons behind why I am the person I am," he said firmly.
Harry drew in a sharp breath. Arya saw him begin to tremble as every muscle in his body tensed.
She sought his eyes again.
"You're afraid," she stated. Her voice was barely a whisper.
In the blink of an eye, Arya made up her mind. She pressed her flat hand to Harry's chest and felt his heart racing beneath her palm. Her eyes never left his.
Finally, he closed his eyes and nodded slightly. "Yes," Harry whispered. "Will you stand by my side?" he asked, opening his eyes. His gaze was steady, yet there was a fleeting hesitation in them.
"Of course," she nodded with determination. Harry felt it flow through her hand on his chest. A faint smile crept onto his lips, and he placed his hand over hers. Slowly, his heartbeat calmed, and the trembling subsided.
Artemis rumbled contentedly.
He released her hand and slowly walked towards Sirius. Eragon watched Harry warily, causing Harry to raise his arms soothingly and say, "I won't do anything more, I promise. Artemis would intervene this time, and I don't have the strength left anyway."
Eragon gave a small, cautious smile as he stood up from Sirius. "Alright. But it was a nice change of pace," he said. "It reminded me of brawling with Roran and the other village boys."
"If the urge gets too strong, you can settle it among yourselves. I'm too old for this shit," Sirius grunted, who had sat up and was looking up at Harry, seemingly unsure of what to say.
Harry met his gaze, his face expressionless.
"Harry, I -" Sirius began, but Harry turned away from them and disappeared through the gate leading into the hall.
Sirius let his shoulders slump as Arya hurried after Harry.
"Follow him. I'll look after the brat," Artemis said, her eyes fixed on Lily, who was occupied with Moony.
Eragon, Oromis, Sirius, and Thiora followed Arya, who was already waiting for them in the hall. Harry was nowhere to be seen, and none of them dared to speak, as the oppressive atmosphere weighed heavily on them.
"Where's Harry?" Eragon finally asked, breaking the uptight silence in which they all avoided looking at each other. Harry emerged from a small side room where Arya had previously seen a cauldron boiling.
Harry walked past them, and a dull thud echoed through the room. The bowl wobbled on the table as he dumped the Pensieve a bit too hard on the wooden table.
With his back to them, he began patting his pockets, and Arya blushed slightly as she realized what exactly he was searching for.
She coughed awkwardly, pulled the wand from a hidden pocket of her robe, and handed it to Harry.
Harry looked at her with a somewhat confused expression but took the wand. He tapped the Pensieve twice and it floated in their midst, so they stood in a circle around it.
"To be honest, I've never done this myself," Harry said. He took a deep breath, placed his wand on his temple, and closed his eyes. For minutes, they watched as Harry concentrated, and then very slowly, he pulled the wand away from his head.
Arya's gaze was fixed on the tip of Harry's wand, from which a glistening white thread hung. It resembled the liquid in the Pensieve.
Harry flicked his wand. The thread fell like a feather into the Pensieve, the surface fracturing into countless fragments, each showing different images from Harry's memories.
"What was that?!" Eragon asked.
"Those are my memories," Harry answered.
"Fascinating," Oromis murmured, leaning over the Pensieve to study it more closely.
"So, what should we do?" Arya questioned.
Harry ran a hand through his hair, unintentionally brushing it away from his face. "The first time I went inside a Pensieve, I dipped my face into it, but there's not enough room for all of us. Just touching it with your fingertip should be enough."
"Let's see what this is all about then," Sirius said, reaching out first to touch the silver surface. After a brief hesitation, Thiora and Oromis followed suit.
Eragon took a deep breath and touched the surface, freezing like the others. Now, Arya and Harry were the last ones, and she was the one to speak.
"Harry, no matter what happens, it won't change my opinion of you," she said to him before also dipping her finger into the silvery liquid.
The Pensieve
There was a jolt, and Arya felt as if she were being thrown forward and pulled into the Pensieve. Black and white veils of mist swirled around her, almost tangible. She dared to take a step, and the mist dancing around her began to take shape. It was as if houses were falling from the sky, landing on either side of a street. She glanced to the side and saw that the others were not far from her.
"Where are we?" Thiora asked.
"This is Privet Drive," Harry explained. "I grew up here."
Arya frowned. Somehow, the place did not fit Harry at all. The houses were all built the same and exuded pure boredom.
"You grew up here?" Eragon asked incredulously.
Harry nodded and pointed to a specific house. "That's the Dursleys' house. Number 4, Privet Drive."
As they approached the house, Oromis bent down to inspect the flowers planted in front of it.
"Why are the plants here?" Oromis asked.
"Those are front gardens," Harry explained. "They're meant to decorate the entrance to the house, making it look more inviting, I guess."
Oromis blinked. "That's… sad. So, little of nature remains," he said, looking at the cold asphalt of the street.
"Which memory is this?" Sirius asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Wait and you'll see," was all Harry said. So, they stood before the entrance to Harry's home and waited. After a few moments, Arya got goosebumps and turned around when she heard an unfamiliar sound. She couldn't identify it, but it was moving on wheels with people inside.
"Is that a cow?" Thiora asked, blushing as Sirius began to roar with laughter.
"How am I supposed to know what that is?"
"Thank you, darling. I needed that," Sirius chuckled.
"That's a car, used for transporting people," Harry explained. From a side street, a car drove past them and parked in the driveway. The door opened, and a boy stepped out.
"Harry - is that you?" Arya asked, recognizing the green eyes behind the crooked glasses.
Harry nodded. "I was seven years old and had just come home from school."
"And why are you wearing such large clothes?" Thiora asked concernedly. "They also look like they haven't been washed in a while."
Harry shrugged. "Those are the only ones I have."
Thiora and Oromis exchanged a glance.
The front door of the car was flung open, and a large man stepped out.
"That's Uncle Vernon," Harry said to Eragon, who was staring.
"He certainly ate well," Eragon marvelled. "You must have had a lot of money to afford so much food."
Harry snorted. "Trust me, Eragon, food isn't a big problem anymore. At least not where I lived."
Uncle Vernon got out of the car, his face flushed with anger, and suddenly grabbed Harry by the collar.
"Come - boy!" he spat out, too angry to form full sentences.
"But I didn't do anything! I don't know how I ended up on the roof!"
"That day, I was chased by Dudley's gang. They had caught me for a moment," Harry said expressionlessly, pointing to his black eye. "But I escaped by accidentally apparating onto the school kitchen roof. Uncle Vernon wasn't happy when he had to pick me up from school, and I couldn't explain to the headmaster how I got up there."
"But he explained it to you afterwards, right? That it was magic?" Sirius asked, and Arya waited tensely for Harry's answer.
"Of course not. Anything out of the ordinary, including magic, was not welcome at Number 4, Privet Drive."
Harry was dragged into the house, and Uncle Vernon shut the door behind him, making sure none of the neighbours saw anything. He stomped through the hallway and opened a door under the stairs.
"Harry, what's he doing?" Arya whispered, her face pale.
"Go – cupboard – stay - no food," Vernon growled, and as Harry walked past him and stood in the doorway, he slammed the door shut with such force that they heard a dull sound followed by Harry's cry.
"Serves you right! Magic, my ass. Use your magic to get yourself some food, boy. Then you surely won't need any for the next few days, you freak," Vernon laughed, disappearing into the living room. When it was completely silent, they could hear the faint sobbing of a child.
Eragon's face turned red with anger. "How could he do that to you? You're family!"
Harry snorted. "The Dursleys didn't care about that. To them, I was just a waste of space and a freak."
Eragon flinched, remembering a scene in Teirm. "Is that why you got so mad when I called Angela a …you know what?"
Harry didn't respond, but his steely gaze spoke volumes.
Arya stepped through the door of the cupboard and saw young Harry holding his head, sobbing. Yet, he wasn't crying. Slowly, she reached out, trying to touch him, but her hand passed through him as if he was made of smoke.
"It's just a memory, Arya. You can't interact with it. What you see here happened exactly like this," Harry said, walking through the door to the outside.
As they followed him, the scene changed. The houses around them vanished, and the street filled with raging water.
"Oh, how I've missed the lovely weather of the British Isles!" Sirius shouted over the roar of the waves.
"This is not a pleasant sight," Thiora remarked, her eyes fixed on a shabby little hut. Thunder and lightning rumbled in the background.
"No, this was Uncle Vernon's last desperate attempt to stop me from getting my letter. In the days before, hundreds of owls came to the Dursleys, but none managed to deliver a letter to me," Harry explained.
Sirius's eyes narrowed, and his hands clenched into fists. "They didn't give you your Hogwarts letter?"
"No."
Harry opened the door, and inside, it was cold and wet. The hut was leaky, and the wind whistled through the walls. Scattered matches lay in front of the fireplace, and the coal was black and damp.
"Despite everything, this is no place for children," Oromis stated dryly. Eragon rubbed his chin uncomfortably as he heard the creaking of the hut in the storm. "This hut resembles the ones you might find in Carvahall, but even ours were better built."
Harry's aunt and uncle lay in the bed next door, while Dudley slept on a moth-eaten sofa. Harry had chosen the best spot on the floor, curling up under the thinnest, most tattered blanket he could find in the corner.
"If I ever get my hands on the Dursleys, I'll make their lives hell!" Sirius growled angrily.
"You'll have to get in line; Artemis already called dibs on that," Harry said.
"Harry, what are you drawing on the floor?" Arya asked, watching young Harry trace something in the dust with his finger.
Harry's lips curled into a warm smile. "A birthday cake. After all, I'm about to turn eleven in a few moments."
Arya stepped back, took Harry's hand, and intertwined her fingers with his. She felt his rough hand gently squeeze hers, and together they stood and watched the Harry in memory as he wished himself a happy birthday.
BANG, BANG.
Eragon spun around, startled. "What was that?"
Harry's eyes lit up, and the sound came again. "It's coming from the door,"
Thiora said, perking up her ears. "It seems someone is outside knocking."
The entire hut shook, and Uncle Vernon stumbled in with a shotgun in his hand.
"Who's there?" he shouted. "I warn you - I'm armed!"
For a moment, there was silence, but then the door was broken down with such force that it flew off its hinges and landed in front of Harry's aunt and uncle.
Arya stared at the spot where the door had just been. The storm outside was still raging, but as it flashed with lightning, she could make out a figure standing there.
The figure was as large as a Kull, no, even larger. Kulls were about eight feet tall, while this person must have been at least eleven feet tall.
"Hagrid!" Sirius exclaimed in relief.
Arya's eyes widened. "Wait, I know him! Artemis showed me a memory where he appeared."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "When was that?"
"When we reached Tarnag. The clothing of the local dwarves reminded her too much of how wizards and witches dress. You were…let's say preoccupied at the time, and she didn't intend to show me the memory on purpose," Arya said with a grin.
Harry nodded. "That's not a problem. The person is Hagrid. He might look terrifying, but he's harmless. He wouldn't hurt a fly."
"Oh, shut up, Dursley, yeh old prune," Hagrid grunted. He grabbed Uncle Vernon's shotgun with his enormous hands, bent the barrel as if it were made of dough, and tossed it into the corner.
"I like him already," Eragon said, grinning.
Uncle Vernon whimpered and retreated with his family to the far end of the room. Hagrid turned to Harry. "Anyway, Harry, a very happy birthday ter yeh. I've got summat fer yeh here – might have sat on it once or twice, but it'll taste jus fine, I'm sure."
"That's really kind of him," Thiora said, smiling.
Harry grinned. "I'd forgotten what the cake looked like, but it was the best cake I'd ever eaten."
"Really?" Oromis asked.
"The first birthday gift that you can remember is always special," his eyes hushed over to Sirius who greeted him with a smile.
They watched as Hagrid made himself comfortable on the sofa, pulling out various things from his coat.
Finally, Hagrid stopped and handed Harry a letter.
"Here, almost forgot ter give this ter yeh. Would have been a wasted trip," Hagrid chuckled. Harry took the letter with trembling hands and began to read.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
"Hogwarts? What's that?" Harry asked, confused. Hagrid looked as if he were about to explode.
"Dursley!" Hagrid roared, and the rickety windows shook in their frames.
Hagrid closed his eyes for a moment and then looked at Harry with a wild expression. "But yeh must know where your parents learned it all?"
"Learned what?"
"You didn't know you were a wizard?" Sirius asked, gasping.
"No, you saw how they wanted nothing to do with it," Harry mumbled.
"We Dragon Riders also never told our youngest. We set them impossible tasks, like filling a tub with holes with water. As soon as a student discovered their magic, they were immediately taught alone by a master," Oromis said. "Learning magic at a young age can be very dangerous, but I fear your uncle and aunt had no such intention."
"But yeh must know who yeh are! Your parents are famous! You're famous!" Hagrid ran a hand through his hair.
"STOP IT! I FORBID YOU!" Uncle Vernon shouted in panic, while Aunt Petunia gasped for air.
"Does he really think shouting will help?" Eragon asked sarcastically. "Hagrid could just pick him up and throw him out the window. I doubt anyone would miss him."
"Eragon!" Oromis admonished, but Harry gave Eragon a faint grin.
"Shut up, Dursley. Harry, yer a wizard."
Arya nudged Harry lightly with her elbow. "That's for saying the same thing to me."
Harry grinned, rubbing his side.
"Hagrid, you must have made a mistake. I can't be a wizard."
Hagrid grinned under his thick beard. "Not a wizard, eh? Never made things happen when yeh were scared or angry?"
Arya and the others watched as images blurred in front of them: Harry being forced to wear a sweater he didn't want, shrinking it to fit; and the wig of his teacher turning blue when she humiliated him in front of the class. Arya squeezed Harry's hand tightly in hers, exhaling to calm herself.
Harry turned back to Hagrid with a smile, and he saw Hagrid beaming at him.
"See? Harry Potter, not a wizard—wait till yeh go to Hogwarts. You'll be a great one, no doubt. Especially with parents like yers."
Harry's face fell. "But if my parents could do magic, why did they die in a car crash?"
Hagrid blinked and turned to the Dursleys. "Car crash?"
Uncle Vernon swallowed, seeing Hagrid's gaze, but a sudden courage gripped him. "When we took him in, we swore we'd put an end to this nonsense. Swore we'd stamp it out of him! Wizard indeed!"
"You knew?" Harry shouted. "You knew I was a - a wizard?"
"Of course we knew!" Aunt Petunia shrieked. "How could you not, with my sister being what she was?"
"That wretched woman!" Sirius whispered, his eyes stormy with fury.
"She met that Potter, and they got themselves blown up! And then we had you dumped on us!"
Thiora had turned pale. "Is that how you learned what happened to your parents?"
Harry shrugged. "Yes…I only found out much later, but Aunt Petunia was always very jealous of my mother."
"Jealousy, when left to fester, can turn into deep resentment. But it's no excuse to take it out on you," Oromis said, fixing Aunt Petunia with a piercing stare.
"Who did it?" Harry asked, his eyes burning with determination.
"Well, I don't like ter say the name if I don't have ter. No one does," Hagrid said.
"Why not?"
Harry snorted. "I'm almost as bad as Eragon with his questions, bombarding Brom."
Eragon flushed. "But why didn't anyone mention the name?" he asked.
Sirius sighed. "People were afraid. Voldemort's name was cursed. Whenever someone dared to say his name, it revealed their location. Death Eaters or Voldemort himself would show up, leaving only destruction and death. The name spread such fear that only a few dared to say it—the rest called him He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."
Arya narrowed her eyes in concentration. Such a tactic of attacking was anything but honourable.
Hagrid took a deep breath. "You-Know-Who showed up at Halloween ten years ago. He came ter yer house and – and –"
Hagrid pulled out a large dirty cloth that could be used as a tablecloth and blew his nose.
"Sorry - but I knew your parents. They were the kindest people yeh could find. Anyway, the mysterious thing was, tha' he tried ter kill yeh afterwards. Must've had enough fun killing, but he couldn't."
Hagrid pointed at Harry's forehead. "That scar... it's no ordinary scar. Yeh get tha' when a powerful curse touches you - worked on yer parents, but not on yeh, Harry. No one's ever survived tha' curse, an' that's why yer famous. That's why ev'ryone knows your name. Yer the Boy Who Lived."
"That's a heavy burden," Oromis murmured, turning to Harry.
"Hagrid didn't know your scar was more than just a cut?" Thiora asked.
Harry shook his head. "No, no one knew. I don't think even Dumbledore knew for sure. Maybe he had his suspicions, but he never mentioned it to me."
Sirius's hands trembled with anger. He had never imagined the Dursleys were so terrible to Harry! And terrible was putting it kindly.
"Harry, what's next?" Arya asked, seeing Harry heading for the door, leaving Hagrid and his younger self behind.
"Now I'll show you the Leaky Cauldron."
"Goodness, this town is huge…and dirty," Eragon said, staring at the many buildings that Hagrid and Harry passed by on their way to the Leaky Cauldron.
"Welcome to London," Harry grinned. Oromis suddenly stopped as the Harry in the memory asked Hagrid something.
"Hagrid, did you say there are dragons at Gringotts?"
Oromis whirled around to Harry. "Dragons? There are dragons in your world?"
Harry and Sirius exchanged a glance. "Yes, there are, but as far as I know, you can't communicate with them. From what Glaedr told us, they resemble wild dragons more."
Oromis's eyes lit up with joy. "It's still good to know that, should we fail, dragons will continue to live. Even if they are different from what we know."
Eragon stepped to his master's side. "But we will not fail, Master."
"That's the right attitude," Sirius said, and Oromis smiled weakly in thanks.
"You always wanted a dragon?" Harry asked incredulously.
"Even as a little boy, I wanted one - this way."
Harry snorted in amusement. "Who would have thought I'd be the one to hatch a dragon later on? I'd love to know what Hagrid would say about that."
"He'd be happy for you," Arya said firmly.
Harry nodded, and they walked into an old, grimy pub.
"This is where Diagon Alley is?" Thiora asked in astonishment, apparently already having heard a lot about it from Sirius.
"First, the Leaky Cauldron," Sirius said, smirking. "I remember when James, Remus, and I rented a room here. We emptied several bottles of Firewhiskey that night."
Hagrid and Harry stood at the entrance when the landlord recognized Hagrid. "The usual, Hagrid?"
Hagrid, however, shook his head proudly and clapped young Harry on the back, causing him to bend forward from the force of the slap.
"Not today, Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business," Hagrid said proudly, clapping Harry on the back again.
"There was a photo of that in the Daily Prophet! One of those pesky Aurors held it up in front of me back then," Sirius said excitedly.
Tom, the landlord, dropped a glass in surprise, which shattered on the floor.
"My goodness - is it possible?" The pub went dead silent, and everyone turned to Harry, their eyes fixed on his forehead.
"Indeed - Harry Potter, what an honour," said the landlord.
A wizard with tears in his eyes stepped up to Harry and, without asking, grabbed his hand. "Welcome home, Mr. Potter. Welcome home."
"That explains why you hid from the Varden after the battle in Farthen Dûr," Arya said.
"Yeah, I was completely overwhelmed here," Harry said, grimacing. "Before I was a wizard, no one wanted anything to do with me. I didn't have a single friend, and suddenly everyone wanted to shake my hand like I was a king. I hated it later, especially when I was no longer their hero and they exposed me."
"That's not even the worst," Thiora muttered quietly, staring disdainfully at a stuttering wizard. "All these people remind Harry of how his parents died. They remind him of the night he lost everything."
Eragon remained silent, reflecting on his experiences since he and Saphira, with Brom and Murtagh in tow, had appeared before the Varden. The people had carried them on their hands and given them the finest clothing. Eragon had felt so powerful, especially after he had killed Durza.
He had enjoyed the attention. Now he looked back in shame.
"Humility is a skill some Dragon Riders had to struggle with," Oromis said, placing a hand on Eragon's shoulder.
"And not just the young ones," Thiora added with a grin.
Oromis nodded in agreement. "No, especially the older ones overestimated themselves. Not without reason was Galbatorix able to overpower us so quickly."
It took a while, but eventually, they continued, and Hagrid tapped his umbrella against the wall, opening the entrance to Diagon Alley.
Arya's eyes lit up as she tried in vain to see everything happening around her. She saw cauldrons in various sizes and colours. But she tugged at Harry's arm when she heard something that made her go pale.
"Dragon liver, seventeen Sickles an ounce…"
She turned to Harry with wide eyes. "Please tell me it's not true that wizards and witches kill dragons."
Harry looked helplessly at Sirius, who shrugged. "It's not exactly easy to keep dragons secret from Muggles. As you know, Harry, it takes dozens of wizards and witches to overpower a dragon, and it doesn't always succeed."
Arya squeezed Harry's hand even tighter. "And what about the dragon keepers? I know Ron's brother, Charlie, was one," Harry said.
"You mean the one in Romania, right?" Sirius scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I seem to remember Remus mentioning something about a new one opening when we were still at Hogwarts – oh, I hate those bastards!" Sirius growled as they entered Gringotts.
Arya was surprised when she saw her first goblin. At first glance, they looked similar to dwarves, but upon closer inspection, it was only their height that was the same. Those who wore beards had ones far too short for a dwarf, their fingers were too long, and their eyes were full of greed for gold.
Arya was now certain she would prefer talking to Baldr about stones for hours rather than negotiating gold with goblins.
"The ride on the cart was awesome!" Eragon exclaimed. "My stomach churned like it does when flying."
Sirius rubbed his stomach wearily, and Thiora also looked glad the ride was over. "You can only speak for yourself. I think the goblins drive them that fast to get back at the wizards and witches."
Soon, they stood in front of Harry's vault, and Griphook, the goblin, opened the heavy iron door.
"It's nice to see how concerned you are about potential thieves, Harry," Arya snorted.
Harry gave her a grin. "If only you knew."
She looked at him questioningly, but Eragon interrupted with a loud whistle.
"That's a lot of gold. Harry, you must be rich!"
Harry shrugged. "I have no idea how much gold I had compared to other wizarding families."
"Still, imagine what the Varden could do with all that gold!" Eragon said.
"Harry?" Arya asked when she saw him shake his head.
"I don't have it with me," Harry said. "The gold, if the goblins haven't emptied the vault already, is still there. I could only empty it when I came of age, but by then I was already on the run."
Eragon's shoulders sagged in disappointment. "So, no gold."
"No gold," Harry confirmed with a chuckle. The scene shifted before their eyes, and they saw Harry and Hagrid standing in front of a train.
"Everything alright, Harry? Yeh were talkin' nonstop earlier, an' now yer so quiet," Hagrid asked in surprise.
Thiora rolled her eyes. "Harry just found out he can do magic and learned the truth about his parents all in one day. That is a lot for a young child."
After a moment, Harry lifted his head and said, "Everyone thinks I'm something special… But I don't know anything about magic – How can all these people expect so much from me? I don't even know what happened the night Volde- I mean, my parents died."
"I'm just Harry."
"Oh," Arya whispered in realisation.
Hagrid leaned forward. "Don't worry, Harry. At Hogwarts, they all start from scratch, an' before yeh know it, yeh'll be one o' the greatest. Just be yourself – Bein' chosen is always a heavy burden, but yeh'll have a great time at Hogwarts, jus like I did. An' your parents."
"Hagrid has a big heart," Arya said, glad that after all the time with the Dursleys, someone finally cared for Harry.
Harry pulled his hand from Arya's and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched the scene. Quietly, he said, "Hagrid was the first friend I ever had. He was always honest with me, even when I wasn't."
"When weren't you honest with him?" Arya inquired.
Harry smirked, reminiscing. "If you ever tasted his rock cakes, you'd do the same."
He then tilted his head to the side. "I think I still vaguely remember Hagrid's recipe. I can make them for you later."
Sirius raised his hands in a placating gesture. "No, thanks. Hagrid brought them to an Order meeting once, that was more than enough for me."
Arya didn't like at all how Harry and Sirius exchanged glances and shivered all over.
Around them, cracks began to form, and white light streamed through the memory until it became so bright that everything turned white before their eyes.
As Arya opened her eyes again, she saw a jumble of images rushing past them. She saw Harry sitting in a small room with the landscape speeding by as if Arya herself was riding with Artemis. He was talking to a red-haired boy who was wiping dirt from his nose and glaring at a girl with bushy hair.
"That must be Ron and Hermione," Arya thought before a croaky voice whispered soft words in her ear.
"Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness. No doubt about that – No? Well, if you're sure – then better be GRYFFINDOR!"
As Arya heard the last word, she noticed that she was standing in a Great Hall and Harry was sitting on a stool at the front, wearing a black hat that was much too large and had slipped over his eyes. The students around her began to clap and cheer loudly, though some of them whispered among themselves.
The whispers followed her into the next memories, as Arya saw more images of students and even teachers pointing fingers at young Harry, who was walking with Ron through old corridors and turning a corner. The last thing she heard was the mention of his scar and the stupid nickname they gave for Harry. She cursed whoever was responsible for that.
The images blurred again, and Arya saw Harry flying, but not on a dragon or a Hippogriff, but on a broomstick? Was he crazy? Yet it explained why he felt so comfortable in the air. Suddenly, he darted towards the ground, stretching out his arm to catch something that glittered golden in the light.
Even though another wizard on a broom collided with Harry to throw him off course, Arya laughed because when Harry came back up, he had a bright grin on his face for the first time.
But her laughter died away as Harry's broom suddenly began to tremble, and he was almost thrown off. In a final desperation, he clung to his broom as it jerked wildly in the air, trying to throw Harry to his death.
Darkness fell, and Arya heard a growl. She saw Harry with his friends in a strange room facing a three-headed dog. She gasped as the monster lunged at the children, but the door was flung wide open just in time, and the only thing the dog caught between its teeth was empty air. Loud barking followed them, which turned into the hissing of the wind.
They were now atop a tower, and two cloaked figures were handing a basket to people on broomsticks in the moonlight. When Arya saw what was in the basket, her breath caught. It was a dragon hatchling!
But shadows emerged from the sides, shattering the image into a thousand pieces, as from the dark colours, massive trees formed before their eyes.
"What forest is this?" Oromis asked.
Sirius' eyes lit up. "This is the Forbidden Forest. James, Remus, and I spent many nights exploring this place."
The forest's silence was eerie, and the mist added to Eragon's unease. Something wasn't right here.
"Harry, what was that dragon?" Arya suddenly asked.
Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Well, Hagrid always wanted a dragon... and he won a dragon egg in a pub."
Oromis' face darkened as Arya exhaled slowly. "He won a… dragon egg?"
Harry nodded and cautiously took a step to the side. "We only found out the reason later. Everyone knew Hagrid revered dragons... and he won the dragon egg while talking about Fluffy."
"Fluffy?" Thiora asked.
"That was the three-headed dog. He belonged to Hagrid and helped guard the Philosopher's Stone," Harry explained.
"Merlin's beard," Sirius whispered, freezing in place.
"Sirius? Do you know this stone?" Thiora inquired.
"Know it? Of course, I know it! Everyone would want the stone!" Sirius exclaimed.
"Why? Can it do something special?" Eragon asked curiously.
Sirius counted on his fingers. "The Philosopher's Stone was created by Nicholas Flamel and allows any metal to be turned into pure gold, which isn't possible even with magic. But that's not even the most valuable part," Sirius said, pausing dramatically.
"You should join a theatre," Thiora murmured, pinching his side lightly, but Sirius continued undeterred.
"With the stone, it's possible to produce the Elixir of Life! That means you can't die as long as you drink it! But what on earth is the stone doing at Hogwarts? And why has no one ever told me what happened in your first year?" Sirius fumed, slowly calming down as Thiora took his hand in hers.
"The stone was first at Gringotts, but the vault where it was kept was emptied by Hagrid on the same day there was a break-in. Someone was after the stone, and I assume Flamel asked Dumbledore to protect it for him," Harry said.
"And who wanted the stone?" Oromis asked as Harry nodded towards the ground. There they found something silver on the ground.
"The same being that killed unicorns in this forest and drinks their blood."
Sirius' face turned pale. "Blood? There's nothing in this forest that would dare attack a unicorn!"
He looked around as if searching for something. "Please, don't tell me you walked into this forest."
Behind them, the leaves rustled, and it took only a moment before they saw Hagrid angrily dragging a blond boy behind him.
"Sorry, Harry, but you'll have to go with this idiot," Hagrid said, leaning down to whisper. "We need to find the unicorn, and Malfoy won't scare you like Neville would."
"I've never met a Malfoy who wasn't an idiot," Sirius grunted, glaring disdainfully at Draco.
"What happens if someone drinks unicorn blood?" Arya asked as they followed the two boys.
"It's terrible to kill something as pure as a unicorn," Harry said quietly. "Only someone with nothing to lose and everything to gain would commit such a crime. Once your lips touch the blood, you only have a half-life, a cursed life."
Eragon stared at another pool of blood, which shimmered silver in the moonlight. "But why would someone do that? What do they gain?"
"You stay alive, even if you're inches from death," Harry said, turning towards a clearing.
"All this just to achieve immortality?" Thiora asked upset.
"I think you are underestimating what immortality means for humans," Harry argued.
"Compared to the Elves and me now as well, I guess, humans have such short lives. There is a deep, saturated fear of death within each of us and overcoming this fear is not easy at all. Some humans seek to conquer death itself, but the fear of the unknown drives them to commit horrific and unimaginable atrocities."
"To conquer death, one must first embrace it."
The unicorn lay dead on the ground, its white, pearly mane spread out on the dark leaves.
Arya's eyes widened, for in all she had experienced, she had never seen something so beautiful and tragic.
Then they heard a soft rustling, and a hooded figure appeared between the trees. It reached the unicorn, bent over the wound, and began to drink its blood.
Harry heard a scream beside him and saw, out of the corner of his eye, Malfoy and Fang disappearing. The figure lifted its head, and a sharp pain burned from his scar.
Arya had seen something similar before, whenever Harry had rubbed his scar and complained of headaches. But now she understood better.
"That's Voldemort," she whispered.
"You're right," Harry said, touching his forehead with his fingers. "I didn't know it back then, but every time he was near, my scar would hurt. It was like a warning that danger was coming."
The scene shifted again, and they found themselves in a circular room with a large mirror in its centre.
"There!" Harry gasped as he saw Quirrell in front of him.
"Harry, why are you here? And alone?" Sirius asked with concern.
"We knew someone wanted to steal the Stone for Voldemort," Harry began.
"And you knew that Fluffy guards the Philosopher's Stone. You got past him," Arya continued.
"Because Hagrid had told us his secret for getting past Fluffy - with music," Harry finished.
Sirius held his head. "Please stop speaking alternately! My head is already pounding."
Arya grinned at Harry, who returned the smile and reached for her hand. Together, they watched as Harry was forced to approach the mirror and saw his reflection hiding the Stone in his pocket.
"Oh! An interesting way to use magic," Oromis commented thoughtfully.
"So?" Quirrell asked impatiently. "What do you see?"
"I see Dumbledore handing me the House Cup... and me shaking his hand," Harry lied.
"No offence, Harry, but you're a terrible liar," Eragon snorted.
"I was eleven!" Harry defended himself.
"He's lying… He's lying… Let me speak to him… Face to face," Voldemort whispered from behind Quirrell's turban.
"Harry, what is Quirrell doing?" Thiora asked as they watched him remove his turban.
"That's disgusting," Eragon said in revulsion as he saw the face on the back of Quirrell's head. Arya squeezed Harry's hand tighter.
"Harry Potter... do you see what I have become?" Voldemort whispered.
"So, he lost his body the night he came for you, but how did he survive without a body?" Oromis asked, his thoughts moving in a direction he did not like. He only knew of one thing that could allow someone to survive even if their body was destroyed, but as far as he knew, that was only possible for dragons in Alagaёsia.
"Give me the Stone in your pocket… Save your life and join me… or you will suffer the same fate as your parents… They begged me for mercy before they died…"
"LIAR!" Harry shouted, and Voldemort smiled.
"I appreciate bravery, boy—your father gave me a brave fight, but your mother… she need not have died. Give me the Stone if you don't want her death to be in vain."
"NEVER!"
"Harry, please tell me help is coming!" Sirius said anxiously, his eyes darting from the entrance and back, where Quirrell was charging at Harry.
"What's happening?" Eragon asked in confusion as Quirrell recoiled from Harry with a cry of pain, and his hand, which Harry had just held, crumbled to dust.
"Quirrell couldn't touch me," Harry said dryly. "The protection my mother gave me still worked against Voldemort, and since he shared his body with him, he turned to dust. Plus, he had drunk unicorn blood. By that point, Quirrell was practically a dead man."
Harry grabbed Quirrell's face, who screamed in agony. Red blisters formed on Quirrell's skin, and Voldemort screamed, "Kill him! Kill him!"
Arya watched the struggle in horror, the only comfort being the certainty that Harry had to survive, as she kept a firm grip on his hand.
Harry screamed and pressed his hands harder against Quirrell's face until Quirrell suddenly froze and his entire body turned to sand as Voldemort fled from him. Harry fell unconscious to the ground, only to be caught just in time by Dumbledore.
Harry turned to the others and looked at them one by one.
"Well, that was my first year at Hogwarts."
Starting off with kinda bad news... I am currently doing my Masters and starting with September I will be in an internship until early February. From what I have been hearing, I will most likely only have time to eat, breath and sleep... which means no time for writing at all. I will try to write a bunch of chapters beforehand, so I can at least upload one chapter per month. I have the next one already finished and could even split it in half because of the length.
I could also upload them in a one or two-week cycle from here on (I have an entire month free time at the moment), but it would mean a very long break in the future, which is why I would prefer the once per month version. If you care enough, tell me what you think in the comments.
I hope you liked the chapter. The chapter might not be for everyone, but I thought it would be fun to write the reactions from the other to Harry's memories. From year 4 onward, there will be slight changes.
Until next time