Harry Potter and the Gift of Memories [Harry Potter Fan Fiction]

Chapter XXXXVII: The Philosopher's Stone, Part II

 Time passed. Life moved on. Some things changed while others stayed the same. It was the way of the universe, that the passage of time created differentiations to occure within people and places.

Two years. Two years since I first met Master Wei. Two years since I became friends with Lisa. It feels almost like a lifetime, and I can't help but reflect on the changes in myself; no longer bitter, no longer vengeful. I still disliked my relatives, but I didn't let it rule me. I feel like I've become a different person, a better person. But then, perhaps that is just my perception of things, shaped by the reality that only I can percieve.

"Harry?"

I looked over at Lisa. My friend. My best friend. And a warm feeling encompassed my chest, starting from my heart and expanding outward to engulf the rest of my body. I feel light.

"Hmm?"

"Are you okay?" she asked. "You're spacing out on me."

I smiled at her. "I'm fine. Just thinking is all."

She stared for another second, then shook her head. "Weirdo."

"Brat."

XoX

 The first thing Harry noticed upon returning to consciousness was that he was incredibly sore. It felt like he had done one of his most intense and rigorous training routines for several days straight without stopping, then had Hogwarts dropped on him for good measure

The second thing he noticed was that he was lying on a soft bed. This was followed by the smell of potions, confirming that he was laid up in the hospital wing.

Finally, the third thing he noticed was the presence sitting in a chair next to him. It was strong, vibrant and full of life, yet at the same time felt old and wise. He couldn't recognize the signature, as he still had trouble sensing magic, but whoever the person sitting next to him was, they were very powerful.

Opening his eyes, Harry blinked several times as his vision adjusted to the change in light. When he was properly adjusted, he turned his head and found himself staring into the blue eyes hidden behind half-moon spectacles of Albus Dumbledore.

“Professor Dumbledore,” Harry slurred. He was still extremely tired. Even moving his mouth took more effort than it should.

“Ah, Harry,” Dumbledore said, sounding truly surprised to see him up. “How are you feeling?”

There were a number of responses Harry could think of to that, and all of them were sarcastic.

“I'm fine,” Harry mumbled, trying, and failing, to push himself into a sitting position.

He was immediately pushed back down by two hands that were much stronger than their frail looks suggested.

“I think it would be best if you not get up quite yet,” Dumbledore told him gently. “Your body and mind have suffered a lot of duress from Voldemort trying to take possession of your body.”

Harry thought about arguing with the man. He disliked sitting still for any period of time, unless doing something worth while, like reading or studying, but decided not to. He was tired .after all, and it would not do to push himself after what happened in the chamber where the Mirror of Erised was held.

“How long have I been out?” asked Harry.

“About twelve hours,” Dumbledore replied. “I'm actually surprised. Madam Pomfrey suspected you would be incapacitated for much longer.”