A Past Reclaimed by nuw255
Chapter Notes: It’s time to head back to Hogwarts. Harry will learn a little bit about Percy, meet Malfoy, and have an interesting talk with Ginny. All in a day’s work, right?
As Harry Potter descended the stairs of the Burrow very early on the morning of September first, he was surprised to hear Mrs. Weasley’s angry voice coming from the other side of the closed kitchen door.
“I’m not sending him back there, Albus; I don’t care how it will look to the Muggles. He’s practically part of the family now!”
“I am not suggesting that we modify the boy’s memory, Molly,” Dumbledore replied mildly. “All I am saying is that Mr. Stevens might choose to return to his school. Of course, he would probably prefer to attend Hogwarts with his friends, but we both know that is completely out of the question.”
“Then let me keep him here,” Mrs. Weasley pleaded. “Surely you could find us some proper Squib curriculum so he won’t have to go back to that awful place.”
Harry pushed the door open. “Why don’t you ask Tyler what he wants?” he asked.
“Ask me what?” Tyler called from the bottom of the stairs. Harry made room for him to enter the kitchen.
“Tyler, dear,” Mrs. Weasley began, “Professor Dumbledore here was wondering if you would like to return to your old school.”
Tyler snorted. “Go back to St. Brutus’s? Are you kidding?”
“Tyler, you said it!” Harry exclaimed.
Tyler’s eyes opened wide. “I did! Last year, Harry and I were at St. Brutus’s Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. How come I can say that now?”
All eyes turned to Dumbledore as he answered, “It appears that Madam Umbridge has removed her Fidelius Charm from the school. I had guessed she might do so at some point; you see, now there will be no hard evidence that she ever placed the charm on the school in the first place. She is beginning to realize that Minister Fudge cannot postpone her trial forever, and is doing her very best to cover her tracks.” He placed a comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder as he added, “Not to worry though, Harry; you’ll get your memory back yet. Now, I believe Mr. Stevens was going to tell us something.”
“Yeah, I was going to say I’d rather live on the streets and eat out of rubbish bins than go back to St. Brutus’s,” Tyler said unapologetically.
“You see, Albus?” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed triumphantly. She turned to Tyler and added, “I wanted to give you the option of staying with us, Tyler. I’m afraid there’s no real school for Squibs, but Professor Dumbledore has a very good curriculum that could help you learn to get by without magic in the Wizarding world.”
“Hmmm...” said Tyler, touching a finger to his chin as though this was an extremely difficult decision. “Go back to St. Brutus’s where I can eat spoiled porridge and get treated like rubbish, or stay here where the food’s excellent and the people are actually nice, and learn about magic. Do I really even need to answer that?”
“Very well, Mr. Stevens,” Dumbledore said with a wink, “your lessons should arrive by owl-post shortly. Ah, here comes the first one now.” A large barn owl swooped through the window and landed lightly on the table, holding its leg out toward Dumbledore. He quickly untied the roll of parchment and handed it to Mrs. Weasley.
“You- you- manipulator!” she scolded, as she took the parchment, but the effect was ruined by her laughter. “You only suggested sending him back because you knew I’d offer to keep him.”
“Naturally,” Dumbledore replied with a slight bow. “And now, I must be off. I shall see you this evening at the feast, Harry.”
“Goodbye, Professor,” Harry called as the old man stepped out the back door and disappeared with a crack.
The rest of the morning was complete chaos, which Ron assured Harry was completely normal for the Weasleys on September first. Everyone rushed through breakfast, and then scrambled around throwing last-minute items into their trunks. Just when Harry was beginning to worry about having enough time to make it to King’s Cross Station before the train was supposed to depart, Percy Weasley knocked on the front door of the Burrow.
“Everyone ready?” he asked. “Good. Then if you’ll all follow me....” He led them to the front of the house, where a nondescript black sedan was waiting.
“Are we all supposed to fit in there?” Harry whispered to Ron.
“Yeah,” Ron answered. “Don’t worry, though - the inside’s been magically expanded.” The interior had been expanded so much, in fact, that Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were all able to fit their trunks and their pets’ cages into the luggage compartment with ease, and the four of them sat comfortably across the back seat while Percy drove and Mrs. Weasley and Tyler rode up front.
“Do you think we’ll make it in time?” Harry asked, checking his watch.
“No problem,” Ron answered, sounding supremely unconcerned. “Percy may be a git, but he knows how to drive, right Perce?”
“Ron, how many times have I told you not to call your brother names?” Mrs. Weasley scolded. “He’s apologized and come back to us, and that really ought to be enough for you.”
Harry slouched down in his seat so he could whisper in Ginny’s ear. “What does she mean, he came back to you?”
“Percy didn’t believe you when you said Voldemort was back,” she answered in a whisper that was so quiet he had to strain to hear it. “He even sided with the Ministry when they put you on trial and tried to expel you and break your wand. But when he saw Voldemort dueling with Dumbledore at the Ministry, and then Fudge denied it all, he decided he’d had enough and came home. He still keeps up a pretense of being loyal to Fudge, though, so he can spy on him for the rest of us.”
Harry nodded, digesting this new information. He looked out the window and quickly realized that Ron had not been exaggerating when he said Percy would have them to the station in plenty of time. Their car was blowing past speeding Muggles as if they weren’t even moving, but nobody seemed to even see them. Harry guessed that this had to be part of the car’s magic. In far less time than it ought to have taken, they arrived at King’s Cross Station and clambered out of the car.
“See, Harry? I told you there wasn’t a problem,” Ron remarked as they pushed their luggage trolleys toward the platform. “We’re an hour early. Hey, maybe we can actually get a decent compartment this time.”
“Harry and Ginny will have to save it for us, then,” Hermione reminded him, “because we have to go to the Prefects’ meeting.”
“Why?” Ron asked. “We’re not Prefects anymore.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Head Boy and Head Girl have more responsibilities than Prefects, Ron, not less.”
Ron swore under his breath so that his mother wouldn’t hear. “Maybe Fred and George were right,” he grumbled. “Maybe it’s not so great being Head Boy.”
“Nonsense,” said Percy. “It will give you wonderful leadership experience that will be an invaluable asset in the real world.” Ron just rolled his eyes.
“We’re here,” Mrs. Weasley announced at last as they came to a stop in front of the barrier between platforms nine and ten. “Tyler, you won’t be able to go through by yourself, so why don’t you go with Ron?”
Tyler nodded and began helping Ron push his trolley toward the barrier. “Best to close your eyes,” Ron advised. A moment later, they were gone.
“Harry, you next,” said Mrs. Weasley, and Harry imitated what Ron had just done. When he opened his eyes, he was stunned to see a scarlet steam engine at the front of a long line of passenger carriages. A few witches and wizards were running to and fro, but for the most part everything was empty.
As he pushed his trolley over to where Ron and Tyler were waiting, he heard Ron say, “I think it’s always empty like this until about ten thirty. After that, it’s a madhouse. Come on, Harry; let’s get our trunks loaded up.” Ron selected a compartment, and they lifted their trunks and Hedwig and Pigwidgeon’s cages into the luggage rack. By the time they were finished, Hermione and Ginny had arrived and they helped the girls with their trunks and Crookshanks’ basket as well. After one final set of goodbye hugs from Mrs. Weasley, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny boarded the train, and Mrs. Weasley, Percy, and Tyler left the station.
“Why’d we come so early?” Harry asked when they were all seated.
“Are you kidding?” Ron asked. “Do you remember what happened when you showed up in Diagon Alley? It turned into a madhouse! Today would’ve been worse if we’d gotten here any later.”
Hermione nodded in agreement. “That’s part of the reason Mrs. Weasley picked up our books and robes for us this year, instead of taking us shopping in Diagon Alley. Which reminds me-” she closed the shade on the compartment window, “-you’ll need to keep this closed if you don’t want a bunch of first and second-years pressing their faces up against the glass to get a good look at you.”
“Perfect,” Harry grumbled. “And what am I supposed to do once we get to school?”
Hermione shrugged. “Deal with it, I suppose. It’s not like you haven’t before; you just don’t remember it.”
“Thanks for reminding me,” Harry muttered. A few minutes later, Ron and Hermione left to begin greeting the other students, and Harry and Ginny settled into a comfortable conversation about the upcoming year.
“It’s going to be strange having you in my classes instead of Ron’s,” Ginny observed after the train had been moving for a while.
“Yeah,” Harry said. “I honestly hadn’t really thought too much about it. I guess it doesn’t really make much of a difference to me, since I won’t know anyone but you, Ron, and Hermione, anyway.”
“True,” said Ginny with a small laugh. “You know what’s funny?”
“What?” Harry asked.
“Every time I pass a compartment with the shade drawn over the window, I can’t help thinking there’s a couple inside snogging.”
Harry laughed softly. “Definitely none of that going on in here,” he said, and had to bite his tongue in order to avoid offering to change that fact. The friendly banter continued after Ron and Hermione returned from their Prefects’ meeting, and before long Hermione announced that it was time to put on their robes. No sooner had they finished doing so than the door to their compartment slid open, revealing a boy with a pale, pointed face and sleek blonde hair. The blonde boy was flanked by two other boys, each of whom was about the size of Harry’s cousin, Dudley.
“So, it is true,” sneered the blonde. “Potty’s decided to come out of hiding. Personally, I’d hoped the rumors about you being dead were true, but I suppose there’s still time for that to happen.”
Ron made to lunge at the newcomer, but Hermione stood in front of him and held him back. In an instant, the blonde had his wand in hand, and Harry was surprised to see Ginny step protectively in front of him. “Temper, temper, Weasley,” the blonde boy continued in the same condescending voice.
“Shut it, Malfoy,” Ron snapped. “In case you forgot, I’m Head Boy this year, which means I have higher standing than you.”
Malfoy’s eyes flicked momentarily to the red and gold badge on Ron’s chest as his sneer faltered for a split second. “Enjoy it while it lasts, Weasley,” he drawled. “It’s the only time in your pathetic life it’ll ever happen.” His two goons guffawed stupidly in the background.
“Oh, and Potter,” he added as an afterthought. “I wonder how you’d like your new little girlfriend without all that garish red hair.” He leveled his wand at Ginny, but she didn’t flinch.
“Don’t try it, Malfoy,” Harry said in a low and menacing voice. He placed a hand on Ginny’s shoulder and discretely aimed his fingers at the other boy.
“Or what?” Malfoy laughed. “I notice you haven’t got your wand. What are you going to do? I think I will try it, and see what happens. Calvus!”
“Protego!” Harry whispered as quietly as he could while still making sure the spell would work. Malfoy’s curse was deflected back into his face, and he suddenly found himself surrounded by a shower of white-blonde hair. His eyes flew open wide in horror as Ron burst out laughing, and he gingerly touched his newly-bald head.
“I’ll get you for that, Potter,” Malfoy shrieked, his voice an octave higher than usual.
“You’re welcome to try,” Harry laughed as Malfoy stormed back toward his own compartment with his two goons in tow.
“Hey Malfoy!” Ron shouted at the retreating threesome. “Ten points from Slytherin for trying to curse my sister!” He pushed the compartment door shut with a laugh. “I think I might like being Head Boy after all.”
“Ginny, what just happened?” Hermione asked quietly. She was watching the younger girl intently, as if she was trying to solve a puzzle.
“No idea,” Ginny answered. “Harry, what do you think happened?”
Harry shrugged and tried to look innocent. “Ron took points away from Malfoy?”
“That’s right!” Ron shouted gleefully.
“You know that’s not what we’re talking about,” Hermione said, ignoring Ron. “How did you block that curse?”
“I thought Ginny did it,” Harry said in what he knew was a very unconvincing voice. He had never been very good at outright lying; omitting certain details of a story was something he could do, but he’d never really learned to tell blatant, convincing lies. By this point, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were all staring at him, expecting some sort of explanation. Suddenly, the train lurched to a halt.
“Oh look, we’re here!” Harry exclaimed, turning around to retrieve his trunk and Hedwig’s cage.
“Harry, we leave our things here,” Ginny said quietly.
“Oh. Okay then. Let’s get going.” He threw open the compartment door and pushed through the throng of students before sprinting to the waiting carriages. Reaching the open door of the first carriage, he propelled himself inside and squeezed into the far corner where he hid in the shadows.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he muttered, banging the back of his head against the inside of the carriage.
“What was stupid?” Harry opened his eyes to find Ginny standing in front of him. “You saved me from going bald, and made it happen to Malfoy instead. What’s wrong with that?” She pulled the door closed, and sat down across from him, and the carriage began moving. “How’d you do it?”
Harry sighed and ran his fingers nervously through his already untidy hair. He was trapped, and he knew there was no way Ginny was going to let him get away without telling her the truth about what had happened. Still, he had to try one last argument. “I promised Dumbledore I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
Ginny just folded her arms and stared at him.
“Alright!” Harry exclaimed in defeat after a long moment. “But you have to promise not to tell anyone. And you have to help me get out of telling Ron and Hermione.”
Ginny seemed to weigh her options for a moment before finally nodding and saying, “I think I can do that. I promise not to tell anyone, and to help you get out of having to tell Ron and Hermione.
“You’re so wonderful,” Harry hissed in Parseltongue.
Ginny shivered slightly and laughed, “Harry, you have to tell me in English.”
“Right,” he said with a grin. He took a deep breath and his grin faded. “I’m not really sure how to say this,” he whispered.
“How to say what?” Ginny asked. “That you don’t need your wand to do magic?”
Harry stared at her, dumbfounded. “How did you...?”
“Well, it’s really the only explanation, isn’t it?” Ginny said with a shrug. “I mean, the only time I’ve heard of a spell backfiring like that was with Ron’s broken wand back in first year. You must have done something to Malfoy’s wand, just like you must have done something to the lock on the broom shed this summer.”
“You knew?” Harry asked in disbelief.
“I suspected,” Ginny replied. “But I still don’t see what the big deal is. We’ve always known you were a powerful wizard, and wandless magic isn’t completely unheard of. Dumbledore does it pretty often.”
Harry shook his head. “I can do way more than even Dumbledore. I didn’t do anything to Malfoy’s wand; I blocked his curse with a Shield Charm. That’s why I put my hand on your shoulder the way I did; I had to be able to put the shield in front of you.”
Ginny suddenly looked very pale and very excited at the same time. “Could you show me?”
Harry shrugged. “I guess. What should I do?”
Ginny thought for a moment before answering, “Levitate me.”
Harry laughed. “Okay,” he said, waving his finger at her. “Wingardium Leviosa.” Ginny slowly rose into the air, squealing with laughter. Instead of placing her back on the opposite side of the carriage, Harry guided her onto his lap.
“How’d you get there?” he asked in mock-surprise.
“Harry! It doesn’t count if I don’t come willingly,” she laughed, swatting him on the arm.
“What if you don’t run away?” Harry asked cheekily.
Ginny sighed. “I guess I have to get up, then.” She stood and moved back to her own seat. Harry felt a pang of disappointment, and he thought he could see the same emotion on Ginny’s face as well.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I shouldn’t have put you in that position.”
Ginny shook her head. “No, I just shouldn’t string you along. It’s hard though, you know? I mean, I’ve fancied you for so long-”
“So you admit that you fancy me,” Harry interrupted.
“Harry, you know I’ve never denied it. Well, not since you told me how you feel, anyway. But I can’t put myself in a position to be dumped as soon as your memory comes back.”
“I’ve told you that’s not going to happen,” Harry said vehemently.
“You don’t know that,” Ginny whispered. There were tears in her eyes. “It would be so easy to just give in and be your girlfriend for a while, but.... Harry, you know what Tom did to me. You know why I can’t bring myself to trust that way again.”
“No I don’t,” Harry insisted. “I’m not Tom Riddle, Ginny! When are you going to get that through your head? Merlin, does bloody Voldemort have to ruin every part of my life? He’s already taken my parents, which also succeeded in making my childhood a living hell. Now he has to keep you away from me too?”
“Please don’t do this, Harry,” Ginny pleaded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I’m not ready. You know I’m not.”
Harry sighed in frustration, running a hand through his hair. “You’re right,” he said dejectedly. “You’re not ready. But when you are, I’ll be waiting.” They sat in silence for the rest of the trip, and neither one said a word as they entered the empty Great Hall and sat down at the Gryffindor table.
After only a few moments, the Hall began filling with students. Unsurprisingly, Harry was immediately the subject of whispers and stares, and he had to fight very hard to keep from getting up and running from the room to avoid all the unwanted attention.
“Harry! Good to see you back,” called an Irish boy with sandy brown hair. Harry nodded at him.
“That’s Seamus,” Ginny whispered. “He’s in your dorm - or was, anyway.”
A tall black boy sat down next to Seamus, but pointedly avoided looking at Harry and Ginny.
“Who’s that?” Harry whispered.
“Dean Thomas,” Ginny answered. Harry nodded in comprehension as he remembered Ron recounting how Ginny had broken up with Dean when he had accused her of still fancying Harry.
A moment later, Ron and Hermione arrived and sat on Harry’s other side, and then a tall, stern-looking witch, who Ginny whispered was named Professor McGonagall, led a group of tiny first-year students into the Great Hall. She placed an old, patched, and extremely dirty wizard’s hat on a stool, and stepped back, watching it intently. Very slowly, it began raise its crumpled form until it was standing upright, and a tear along the brim opened like a mouth. Then, in a scratchy voice, it began to sing a song about Hogwarts and its four houses: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin.
The instant the song was finished, the students broke into thunderous applause, but when McGonagall stepped forward and prepared to read from her scroll, the Hall fell silent.
“Adams, Julie,” she called out. A small girl with pale skin and strawberry blond hair shuffled nervously forward and sat on the stool. McGonagall placed the hat on her head and after a moment it called out, “Hufflepuff!” The Hufflepuff table erupted in cheers, and Harry leaned down to whisper in Ginny’s ear.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
Ginny looked up at him in surprise. “I’m sorry, Harry, I completely forgot you didn’t know about the Sorting. This is how they decide which house all the incoming first-years belong in.”
“You mean they let a hat decide that?” Harry asked incredulously.
“It’s not just any hat,” Ginny insisted. “It’s the Sorting Hat. That’s what it’s for.”
She continued explaining the Sorting ceremony to Harry, amid the intermittent cheers from the different house tables, until the Hall suddenly fell silent. Looking around, Harry realized that the Sorting was over and Dumbledore was about to speak.
“I have noticed,” Dumbledore began, his voice echoing through the Great Hall, “that students never seem to remember anything that is said when their stomachs are empty. With that in mind, I have only two words to say at this time. Tuck in!” He clapped his hands, and suddenly the tables were filled with more good things to eat than Harry had ever seen in his life, even at the Burrow. As he began filling his plate, he couldn’t help feeling that fate was finally smiling down on him.
A/N: Sorry for not giving the Sorting Hat a song to sing. I tried writing one, but it was horrid so I got rid of it.