Chapter 63: Family
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 63: Family
A wave of memories burst into his mind, all appearing at the same time.
He remembered Petunia's warm hugs, Vernon's gruff encouragement, Dudley's infectious laughter.
He remembered the toy soldier Dudley had given him, the silver watch Vernon had bought him, the letters Petunia had written him.
And then he remembered the nightmare he had experienced the day of his return home.
It was all so vivid, just like it had happened yesterday.
The house. The couches. The sleeping family.
The flames.
"Burn it down. Burn everything. Make it look like an accident." Said Dumbledore.
"Obliviate."
Harry pressed his fist against his mouth, trying to stifle the sob that rose in his throat.
They were dead. Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley were dead. Dumbledore had killed them. He had burned them alive and erased Harry's memory of them.
And Harry had spent the summer believing he was an orphan, and that he always lived with his aunt Bella...a woman named Arabella Figg...but it was all a lie, a construct, something fabricated by his evil magic.
He sat in the darkness, tears streaming down his face, the diary clutched to his chest.
The anger was burning in his chest like Hellfire.
In his past life, he had been a simple boy, just lying in his bed, spending his free time reading or playing games. He had never hurt anyone before, much less kill anyone.
But now, for the first time in two lives...he experienced the feeling of wanting to take someone's life.
He wanted revenge more than anything now. He wanted to make Albus Dumbledore suffer before he killed him.
He would not let Dumbledore win. He would not let him take anything else from him.
He would fight the bastard and end him.
Harry closed the diary and whispered into the darkness:
"I remember everything now. I know what you did to me...what you took from me...you will pay."
The candle flickered and died, leaving him alone in the dark.
But Harry was no longer afraid. He knew the truth now. He knew who he was, where he came from, and what he had to do.
He would find his friends. He would rescue Pansy. He would avenge the Dursleys. And he would bring down Albus Dumbledore.
No matter what it cost.
<><>
The next morning, Harry rose from the bed, feeling sluggish and tired after not being able to sleep for the entire night.
How could he sleep after that?
He had spent the entire night reading and re-reading the diary, in case more memories were to come back to him. He also wanted to commit every detail, every word to memory. No longer wanting to forget anything else.
The tears had long dried, but what remained was a burning determination to make Dumbledore pay for all his sins.
After checking the time, he decided to get dressed quickly and made his way to the Great Hall.
<><>
The Great Hall was buzzing with the usual morning chatter. Students huddled in groups, laughing and talking. The smell of bacon and toast filled the air.
Harry's eyes found his friends immediately. Draco, Crabbe, and Daphne were seated at the Slytherin table, their heads bent together in quiet conversation. They looked up as he entered, their expressions shifting to concern.
Harry wanted nothing more than to rush over to them, to tell them everything, to let them know he remembered. But he forced himself to stay back.
'I can't just walk over to them,' he thought. 'It would call too much attention. There are eyes everywhere in here.'
He knew that above all else, he had to avoid letting Dumbledore know that he had recovered his memories.
If the Headmaster discovered this, he would try to remove them again.
And next time, the old wizard would be much more careful, making sure there were no diaries left or any other way for Harry to recover them.
Harry was also afraid that Dumbledore would do something to Draco and the others for helping him. He couldn't risk that.
He needed to approach this with utmost care.
So Harry waited. He ate his breakfast in silence, keeping his head down, his face blank.
He answered Hermione's questions with short, vague responses. He did not look at his friends again.
'Patience,' he reminded himself. 'I need to be patient.'
The day dragged on. Harry went through his classes in a daze, his mind elsewhere. He took notes, answered questions, and kept his head down.
He did not give anyone a reason to suspect that anything had changed.
It was during the last class of the day, Charms with the Slytherins, that Harry saw his opportunity.
The Professor was at the front of the room, his back turned as he wrote instructions on the blackboard. Hermione was focused on her book of spells, her brow furrowed in concentration. The other students were busy with their own work.
Harry reached into his robes and pulled out a small piece of parchment. He quickly scrawled a simple, short note:
"Room of Requirement. After dinner. Bring the cloak."
He folded the note into a small square and waited.
When Crabbe passed by his table to fetch something, Harry slid the note into his hand without a word. Crabbe's eyes flickered with recognition, and he tucked the note into his robes without missing a beat.
Harry let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding.
'Now I wait.'
After dinner, Harry made an excuse to Hermione. "I'm feeling a bit tired," he said. "I think I'll go to bed early."
Hermione looked at him with her usual cold, assessing gaze. "You should study more," she said. "The exams are approaching."
"I'll study tomorrow," Harry said. "I just need some rest."
Hermione nodded curtly and turned away, but the moment Hermione turned her attention back to her book, he changed directions and made a beeline to the exit.
He slipped out of the Ravenclaw common room without anyone seeing and made his way to the other side of the seventh floor.
The Room of Requirement appeared on his third pass. He pushed open the door and stepped inside.
Draco and Crabbe were already there, waiting for him. The room had provided a small sitting room with a crackling fire and comfortable armchairs.
Draco was pacing around, his blue eyes filled with worry. Crabbe sat in one of the armchairs, his broad shoulders tense.
"Harry," Draco said, rushing over to him. "We were so worried. What's happened? Do you remember something now?, Did the diary help?"
Harry nodded, his throat tight. "I remember...everything."
"Everything?" Crabbe asked, his voice low.
"Everything," Harry confirmed. He paused, his voice catching. "Even the Dursleys."
Draco's face went pale when he saw the expression that Harry was making. "Your family?. Hold on...did something happen to them?"
"They're dead," Harry said, his voice flat and cold. "Dumbledore murdered them. He burned them alive and erased my memory afterwards. He made me believe I was an orphan, that I had been adopted by that woman called Arabella Figg. It was all a lie. All of it."
Draco stared at him, his mouth open. Crabbe's face was a mask of shock and horror.
"How?" Draco asked, his voice barely a whisper. "How could he do that? The Dursleys were Muggles. They had nothing to do with anything."
"It was punishment," Harry said, his voice cold. "Punishment for what I did. For breaking into his secret corridor and destroying his laboratory. For freeing his prisoner and ruining his experiments. He wanted to hurt me. He wanted to break me. And he knew the best way to do that was to destroy the people I loved."
Draco shook his head slowly, his face pale. "I've heard terrible things about Dumbledore. I knew he was a tyrant, a manipulator. But I never thought he would go this far. Killing Alistair was one thing, but this... this is just insane. The Dursleys had done nothing to offend him. They were innocent."
Crabbe spoke up, his voice rough with emotion. "I'm sorry, Harry. I'm so sorry. No one should have to go through that. I lost my father to the war, so I know the feeling..."
Harry felt a warmth spread through his chest. His friends believed him. They understood. They were on his side.
"Thank you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Both of you. I don't know what I would do without you."
Draco placed a hand on his shoulder. "So what are you going to do now? Now that you remember everything?"
There was great concern in his face. He was worried that Harry would now do something stupid and get himself killed.
Harry met his gaze, his eyes cold and hard. "I want to kill him. I want to make him suffer the way he made my family suffer. I want to burn everything he loves to the ground."
Draco's grip tightened on his shoulder. "Harry, you can't. Dumbledore is too powerful. If you confront him directly, he'll destroy you. You'll end up like Alistair, or worse."
"I know that," Harry said, his voice steady. "That's why I'm not going to confront him. Not yet."
He pulled away from Draco and walked to the fire, staring into the flames. The orange light danced in his eyes, casting shadows on his face.
"I'm going to be patient," he said. "I'm going to be careful. I'm going to gather evidence of his crimes. I'm going to build alliances. I'm going to find his weaknesses. And when the time is right...when he least expects it, I'm going to strike."
He turned to face his friends, his expression cold and determined. "I know I have to wait. I know I have to be smart. I'm not going to rush into his office, wand in hand, and try to curse him...as much as I would love to do that."
Draco let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. "That's... that's good. That's the right approach."
Crabbe nodded. "We'll help you. Whatever you need, we'll be there."
Harry smiled. "Thank you. Both of you. I know I can count on you."
He walked back to the armchair and sat down, his hands clasped in front of him. "For now, I need to keep up appearances. I need to act as nothing has changed. I need to let Dumbledore believe that I'm still under his control. That's the only way I'll survive."
Draco and Crabbe nodded in agreement.
"We'll be careful," Draco said. "We'll keep our distance in public, so Dumbledore doesn't suspect anything. But we'll meet here, in secret, to plan."
Harry nodded. "Good. And we need to find Daphne. She needs to know what's happened too."
"She was worried about you," Crabbe said. "She wanted to come tonight, but we didn't want to raise suspicion. The three of us meeting together is already risky enough."
"She's right," Harry said. "We need to be careful. But I'll find a way to reach her. Soon."
"Oh...you'll need this, right?" Draco pulled Harry's cloak from his bag and handed it to him.
Harry grabbed it. "The cloak of invisibility...yes. This should come in handy for when I need to sneak around."
"Just promise that you will be careful," Draco said.
He nodded. "Always..."
When Harry finally returned to his room, he felt a strange sense of calm.
The rage was still there, burning beneath the surface, but it was no longer consuming him. He had a purpose now. A mission.
He reached under his mattress and pulled out the diary one last time. He opened it to the final entry and read the words he had written months ago:
"I don't know what the future holds. But I know one thing for certain: I will not let Dumbledore control me. I will not let him use me. I will find my own path, and I will fight for what is right."
"No matter the cost."
Harry closed the diary and whispered into the darkness:
"I will wait. I will watch. And when the time is right, I will strike."
He climbed into bed and closed his eyes.
Sleep came slowly, but it came.
And when it did, he dreamed of green flames...but this time, he did not run. He stood his ground, and he faced them.
He was no longer afraid.
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