"Just what is this designed to do again?" Ron asked for the third time.
"It's a new type of Portkey. Can't be traced," Fred said, and George picked right up.
"We hope this will make the search for the Horcruxes easier," they said together.
"Are you ready?" George asked him. Harry nodded slowly.
"If you would rather someone else test it...I mean..." began Fred.
"No. I'm just as much a part of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes as you are. I'll go," Harry responded.
"Suit yourself. There's that Gryffindor courage," George teased him.
Harry
took a deep breath, and grabbed onto the Portkey. A wrenching pain shot
through him and he yelled as his eyes filled with red light.
"Oh my God!" Remus yelled frantically. "Something's gone wrong with the Portkey! Grab him, grab him!
"I can't!" Hermione screamed.
"Harrrrryyyy!" Ron yelled. "Harrrrryyyy!"
"Harry," someone said gently, shaking him.
"Harry," the voice came again, a bit more stern sounding.
"Blimey! D'you intend to sleep all day? Remus is going to be quite annoyed if we're late again."
"Geroff me," Harry muttered, rolling over.
A
new voice cut in. One Harry thought he recognized. "You can either get
out of bed, or you can help me test my new ice-water charm. You have
five minutes."
The sound of a door shutting finally convinced
Harry the voices were serious. He opened his eyes and fumbled for his
glasses, settling them over his eyes once he found them. His wand lay
on the bedside table. He grabbed it too and then took a look at his
surroundings.
He was in a room that looked vaguely familiar.
He could see a poster depicting the Chudley Cannons, and next to it, a
picture of Hogwarts. On the other side of the room, there was a snitch
suspended in a glass box. The smell of bacon frying wafted through the
door, and Hermione's laughter echoed through the crack beneath it.
"I must be at the Grangers'. But why can't I remember?"
Harry
opened the door, almost crashing headlong into Hermione, who rolled her
eyes at him and continued walking toward what was obviously the kitchen.
"Is Harry up yet?" one of the voices who had roused him asked.
"Yes," Hermione replied.
Harry
walked into the kitchen and looked around. There were two adults
huddled around the stove, and Hermione setting the table. The sun shone
outside, and the house felt...comfortable.
"Well then, sleepyhead. Finally decided to get up?" the woman asked without turning toward him.
Harry
didn't answer. A moment later, the woman turned around. Harry's breath
caught in his throat. The room started spinning, and Harry fell to the
floor. A moment later, a pair of strong hands helped him up.
"Are you alright?" the man asked. Harry looked into his eyes and nearly passed out.
"Dad?" Harry mumbled.
"Last
time I checked. Now, are you going to be ready for...what we have
planned today?" James asked, his voice dropping into a conspiratory
tone.
"James, if I didn't know any better, I'd swear you were
trying to turn that into--" Lily began, but James kissed her, so she
stopped speaking.
"Nothing of the sort, Love. Why would I corrupt our poor, innocent son?" James asked, with a mock hurt expression.
"This isn't possible. What happened? The Portkey..." Harry trailed off. The others were looking at him oddly.
"Who're
you?" Harry yelled. "My parents are dead. Why are you doing this?"
Harry yelled, pointing his wand at his father's heart.
"Good gracious, Harry! What's come over you?" Lily asked.
"Don't talk to me! I want to talk to Dumbledore!" Harry spat.
"Now Harry...seriously. You're scaring your mother," James said slowly.
Harry narrowed his eyes. "She's not my mother."
Lily started to cry. James turned to her and then turned to Harry with hurt in his eyes.
"This isn't funny, son. Now sit down and eat your--" James began.
The room started spinning again, and Harry passed out.