The Master of Death

Chapter5: Connection

"HARRY! Ron, he's here."

"Let him breathe, Hermione," Ron grinningly said to the girl, who tried to hug Harry with such force that he could barely avoid falling to the ground. Hermione started to bombard him with questions.

"Oh shit Harry, is that a snake?" Ron interjected, his blue eyes wide.

Harry used this little breather to look at Ron and Hermione. While they technically still were the same people, those two weren't the friends he knew. A part of him was still angry with them, the memories of useless letters echoing through his mind while another part compared them to the Ron and Hermione they would probably never end up being. A headache was building behind his temples and Harry forced himself to focus on the present. It was exhausting to keep track of his emotions at all times. Just as he was contemplating what he could use as an excuse to get some air, something white flew down from the wardrobe and landed on his free shoulder.

Harry's eyes widened. He had almost forgotten about her...

"Hedwig!" Harry petted the white owl, who just ignored the snake wrapped around him and graciously turned her head. Death hissed. Harry smirked at their behaviour.

"She was acting really odd. Almost picked us dead, when she brought your last letters. Here look," Ron said and extended a hand and showed him a deep cut in his finger. It was just the opening that Harry needed.

"I'm sorry, but I am also not," Harry said after a moment, letting himself sink into his younger mindset, which was way better equipped to deal with this situation. It was like sliding into a hot bath at the end of the day. Still, Harry didn't feel the same connection to them as he probably had a few weeks ago. A faint memory of their relationship when he was older flashed up in the back of his mind, of Ron jokingly calling him his future brother in law.

It was odd to think of Ginny and him as a couple. He hadn't even kissed anyone at that point in time, although his memories told him something different. Embarrassment overpowered everything else when countless encounters with various witches and wizards rushed to the forefront of his mind. Harry couldn't keep the blood from flushing up his skin. He hadn't even been aware that men were an option too.

Harry swallowed and focused on what laid in front of him. He remembered this summer and Voldemort's resurrection vividly and how much he had hated the past few weeks. While his anger now was only an echo of his former frustration it was probably best to not pretend that this hadn't happened.

"I was left, rotting in Privet Drive for weeks," he said coldly. Hermione and Ron paled. This seemed to scare them even more, than if he had been screaming and a part of Harry found himself amused. "I didn't expect much from Dumbledore. Did he really think, that I wouldn't notice being followed?" Nobody said a word. "But you guys... I expected more of you-"

Somehow this turned more into a stern scolding than an angry shouting match.

"Harry we are sorry, we wanted to tell you something, really... but Dumbledore let us swear-" Hermione interrupted him.

"Oh, Dumbledore yes..." Harry let the words roll from his tongue. The flashes of future knowledge added a whole new layer to this summer's memories. While his past emotions seemed to no longer carry the same weight, Harry apparently still possessed the ability to get angry by simply reviewing some events from his current perspective. "I get kidnapped in a supposedly safe environment, which leads to Voldemort's resurrection, see how Cedric gets killed and Dumbledore simply parks me at Privet Drive with not a word of encouragement. Nobody even mentioned a thing that was going on... Dumbledore let you swear, yes. But there are ways to contact me, other than letters or do you think Voldemort monitors my phone calls now?" Harry asked pointedly. With a casual motion, he sent Hedwig back onto the wardrobe, "I understand why you did what you did... but you have to admit that this was messed up."