Chapter 61: False Memories
Disclaimer:
Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
I own nothing but the original characters I make.
"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 61: False Memories
The door to the Room of Requirement closed behind them, sealing the four of them inside.
Harry stood in the centre of the small sitting room created for them, his heart still pounding with relief at seeing his friends.
Magical candles were floating around, casting long shadows.
Draco, Crabbe, and Daphne stood in a loose semicircle, watching him with expressions of concern and anticipation.
Harry took a shaky breath. "I was worried you wouldn't come," he admitted. "After what I said to you. After how I acted. I was-"
"Stop," Draco said, his voice firm but warm. "We don't need apologies, Harry. We know you were not being...yourself. Whatever Dumbledore did to you, it wasn't your fault."
"That's right," Crabbe added. "We understand, Harry."
Harry shook his head. "But I pushed you away. I said horrible things. I told you I didn't want to see you anymore. That you were a bad influence on me. That was not true..."
"And we knew that wasn't the real you," Crabbe said quietly. "The real you would never say those things."
Daphne stepped forward, her amber eyes soft. "We've been worried about you, Harry. We knew something was wrong. We didn't know how to reach you without pushing you away."
"Daphne..." Harry glanced at the blonde girl.
"I was so surprised when you gave them that note that my mask almost fell..." She admitted.
Harry felt a lump form in his throat. "I don't deserve friends like you."
"Maybe not," Draco said, a faint smile playing on his lips. "But you're stuck with us anyway."
Harry let out a shaky laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. He gestured to the circle of armchairs. "Sit down. I'll explain everything."
They settled into the chairs. There was a fireplace crackling nearby. Harry took a deep breath and began to speak.
"I've been having strange dreams for days now," Harry said. "Nightmares, really. And they became worse after I stopped eating the lemon drops Dumbledore gave me."
Daphne leaned forward. "Lemon drops?. Like...a candy?"
Harry nodded. "Dumbledore always offered them during our sessions," he explained. "Every time I ate one, I felt better...calmer, more at peace. But a note I found in the library warned me not to eat them. So I stopped. And the next day, my mind felt... clearer. Like fog lifting."
"A note?. From who?"
"A secret helper...I dont know who it is." Harry said.
Draco, Crabbe and Daphne looked at each other like they were trying to decide if one of them had left the note, but they all looked equally confused.
"Who could that be?" Draco wondered. Outside their small group, he could not imagine anyone wanting to take the risk of going against the Headmaster's wishes.
"I dont know, but I have the feeling that it is not the first time I receive a note like that." Harry grasped his forehead. "But it's all still... confusing."
Draco's eyes narrowed. "Okay, let's leave that for now. You said your mind became clearer after you stopped taking those candies. And then what happened?"
"I started remembering things," Harry said. "Fragments, mostly. But one dream was more vivid than the others, the one from last night. I was in a house...a small cozy house, with a living room full of furniture and pictures. Three people were sleeping on the couches, a man, a woman, and a boy. They were under some kind of spell."
He paused, the images still vivid in his mind. "And there were others in the room. Two men, who I believe were aurors, and... Dumbledore was there as well."
"Aurors?" Crabbe said.
"Dumbledore..." Draco frowned.
"And then what?" Daphne asked.
Harry continued. "Dumbledore ordered them to burn the house down. To kill those people and make it look like an accident. And then... he pointed his wand at me and said 'Obliviate.'"
Draco and Crabbe exchanged a look.
"Obliviate?" Daphne made an expression of disgust. "That's the memory charm. It makes you forget, but in the hands of an expert, it can do much more than that."
Draco's voice was careful when he spoke. "Harry, can you describe the people on the couches? The family you mentioned?"
Harry looked pensive, trying to recall what they looked like. "Let's see...the man was large, broad-shouldered, with a pink face. The woman was thin and tall, with long dark hair and a long neck. The boy was... big, like his father and with dark blonde hair."
Draco and Crabbe exchanged another look. This time, Harry caught it, noticing the extreme worry reflected in their faces.
"What?" He asked. "What is it?"
Draco hesitated, then said, "Harry, for what you said...that sounds like the Dursleys."
Harry stared at him, his mind blank. "The Dursleys? They felt so familiar, but...I don't... I don't remember them. Were they my neighbors, the ones whose house burned out during the summer?" But his aunt Bella said that the family was fine and had just moved away.
" Neighbors?. No, Harry...they are your family." Crabbe said. "Your aunt Petunia, your uncle Vernon, and your cousin Dudley."
"You talked about them all the time last year," Draco said gently. "You told us how kind they were to you, how they treated you like their own son. You showed us a toy soldier Dudley gave you. You said they were the only family you had left."
"That's..." Harry shook his head, his heart pounding. "That doesn't make any sense. My family is dead. I grew up in an orphanage, and the closest thing to a family is my aunt Bella, who adopted me when I was seven."
"Aunt Bella?" Crabbe muttered.
"Arabella Figg...did I not mention her before?" Harry asked.
"Harry, we have no idea who you are talking about," Draco said.
"She is an aunt," Harry said. "She's the one who raised me. She-" He stopped, the words catching in his throat. "She's the one I lived with this summer. I remember her. I remember the house. I remember feeding her cats."
Draco leaned forward, his voice urgent. "Harry, we've never heard of any Aunt Bella. You never mentioned her last year. You only ever talked about the Dursleys. Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley."
Harry felt the ground shift beneath him.
If Draco was right...If the Dursleys were his real family, then who was Arabella Figg? Who was the woman he remembered so clearly?.
And...does this mean that the family seen being burned was...his family?.
'Did Dumbledore kill my family?'
His heart was starting to beat really fast now.
Daphne's voice was soft and reassuring. "Harry, the Headmaster's manipulation runs deeper than we imagined. There's no telling how many of your memories are false. He may have replaced your real family with a fictional one."
Harry pressed his hands to his temples, his mind spinning. "I don't know what's real anymore. I don't know what to believe. I remember the orphanage. I remember Aunt Bella adopting me. I remember the cats. But if that's not true...if it's all a lie, then..."
"Then you need to find out the actual truth," Draco said firmly. "And I think I have something that can help you."
He reached into his robes and pulled out a small, worn diary. The leather cover was soft and faded.
"At the end of last year, you gave me a package for safekeeping," Draco said. "You said it contained something very important for you. I kept it safe, just like you asked. I never opened it. I never read a single word, I promise."
Harry took the diary, his hands trembling. "This is... mine?"
"Yes," Draco said. "You wrote in it all last year. Everything you discovered, everything you suspected, everything you feared. It's all in there. If you want to know the truth, this is a good place to start."
Harry stared at the diary, his heart pounding. He wanted to open it, to read its pages, to uncover the truth. But he was also afraid. Afraid of what he might find. Afraid of who he might discover himself to be.
"Thank you," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "Thank you for keeping it safe."
Draco nodded. "We're in this together, Harry. Whatever you find in there, we'll help you figure it out."
"Yes, take your time," Crabbe added. "We are here for you."
"And remember," Daphne said. "No matter what you find, you need to maintain the facade that you have been building. If you suddenly start acting strange...the Headmaster will immediately notice that something is wrong."
Harry nodded. "I know..." He also knew that it was not going to be easy.
The meeting continued for another hour. They discussed many things, like the extent of Dumbledore's manipulations, the mysterious secret ally, what could be mixed with the lemon drops, and Harry's fragmented memories.
Daphne offered to research memory charms and their counter-curses, while Draco and Crabbe would try to find out more about the topic as well.
When the meeting finally ended, Harry returned to his room with the diary clutched to his chest.
He sat on his bed, staring at the worn leather cover. His hands were shaking as he wondered what kind of things he was going to discover.
'This is it...the truth...'
He carefully opened the diary and began to read.
The first page was filled with his own handwriting, cramped and messy, but unmistakably his.
"My name is Harry Potter. But that is not my only name."
"I came from another world. From another life. In that world, I was a boy named Daniel, who spent his days in a hospital bed, reading books about a magical world that did not exist. Or rather...that existed, but not as I imagined."
"What the..." Harry paused. This was not what he had imagined.
The first phrase had already left him confused. He came from another world?...that couldn't possibly be true, right?. It sounded completely absurd.
But his eyes moved back to the pages, and he kept reading.
"Now I am here. In the body of Harry Potter. In a world where the heroes are villains, and the villains are heroes. Where Albus Dumbledore rules with a cold, cruel hand, and where the man I once thought of as a kind grandfatherly figure is something far more dangerous."
Harry stared at the words, his mind reeling.
'The heroes are villains?... What is that supposed to mean?. He is making it sound like Dumbledore was supposed to be a kind man, but...'
He continued reading, his eyes racing across the page.
"I am writing this diary to record everything I discover. Every suspicion, every fear, every secret. I am being watched, and I cannot trust anyone."
"Except perhaps my friends. Draco, Crabbe, and Pansy. They are the only ones who have shown me kindness. They are the only ones who have stood by me."
"Pansy..."
Harry stopped reading. The name echoed in his mind.
'Pansy! Of course.' Some images began to flash before him...a girl with short black hair. 'I remember her face...her name. She was our friend last year. She...'
The fog in his head was thinning, the memories slowly surfacing. He remembered dark hair and sharp eyes.
He remembered a fierce voice and a defiant smile. He remembered a friend he had lost.
Pansy Parkinson.
Harry turned the page and continued reading, desperate to uncover the truth.
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