Chapter 3 : Utterly Impossible!
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Harry Potter woke with a start and put on his glasses before looking around; trying to figure out what had awoke him so suddenly from his peaceful slumber. Glancing at the bed next to him he saw his two best friends, fast asleep in each other’s arms. Hermione’s long bushy hair was fanned out on Ron’s chest as he watched it slowly rise and fall, his arms circling the girls waist and holding tight as though fearful that if he let go, she would disappear.
Harry watched his friends for a moment longer before his mind drifted back to the mystery cause of his sudden wakening. He could feel a force drawing him to the exit of the dormitory in which he currently resided. He was not sure why, or even what this strange feeling was pulling him towards but he could feel it growing stronger with every passing moment. Deciding to get out of bed and freshen up before allowing himself to give in to the pull, he grabbed his wand and headed towards the bathroom.
Once there, he cast a few personal hygiene charms, mended and cleaned his clothing the best he could and allowed himself a glance in the mirror to admire his handy work. Staring back at him was a face he almost didn’t recognise but for the vivid, emerald green eyes staring back at him. In the year he had spent away his hair had grown longer, his jaw more defined and his eyes seemed to hold all the pent up grief he had ever suffered. The face looking back at him was no boy-who-lived, but a man-who-survived. Harry was about to look away and follow the strange pull which had been gradually becoming more forceful since he had first awoke when he dropped his wand in shock.
The world became dreamlike and fussy and Harry did not hear the echoing clatter of his wand bouncing off the tile floor, nor the soft snoring from the dorm beyond. The only thing Harry was focusing on was his reflection.
Slowly Harry lifted his right hand, pushed back his fringe and stared at the smooth skin before him. There was no scar, no bump, not even a pimple blemishing the forehead reflected back at him. No evidence what so ever that he had ever been marked as a child by the most evil wizard to have ever lived!
At this, Harry smiled as he began to notice the world around him once more and the force of the pull even more acutely. He quickly entered the dorm once more and found some scrap parchment on the nearest desk along with an ever-out quill. Penning a note to Ron and Hermione so as not to work them, he laid it on the dresser beside them before scooping up his wand and walking out of the dormitory.
Minerva McGonagall was making her way to the Hospital wing when she felt her wand begin to vibrate within its holder. At once she was on high alert. The vibrating could only mean one thing. Someone unidentified has entered the castle doors. At once she summoned her Patronus and sent word to the teachers and aurors still patrolling the castle halls before setting off at a speed unimaginable for one of her age, let alone someone who had just lived through a battle of epic proportions. Yet still she sprinted towards the Great Hall as if her life depended on it. Skidding round corners, leaping down stair well and stumbling over debris yet to be cleared.
Once she reached the great oak doors which where the entrance to the hall she halted momentarily to catch her breath, raise her wand and steel herself for what may reside within. With one swish of her want the doors swung open quietly, barely making a sound within the vast room.
The sight which met her eyes was the last thing she expected to see. A man crumpled on the ground in a foetal position clutching a newspaper to his chest which was heaving. Though Minerva could not see the mans face, for his long, mattered hair was obscuring it, she knew at once he was sobbing from the pool of salt water by his head. His clothes looked old and where torn, revealing a long gash across his chest, still weeping precious crimson blood.
Her heart bled at the sight and forgetting that this man may be one of the remaining enemy or that he may be armed, she rushed to his side and knelt next to him. She began wave her wand and mutter diagnostic spells under her breath whilst bring her left hand to move the hair obscuring his face. At that same moment the man looked up into the eyes of Minerva.
Her breath hitched in her throat as she gazed into those grey eyes. So familiar, but yet impossible. Her mind sped, looking for some rational explanation of the sight before her but at that moment rationality alluded her. So instead she passed-out, there on the floor next the weeping man in a dead faint.
The mystery man stood, raised his want to point directly at Minervas chest when the doors once again sprung open to reveal the teachers and aurors Minerva had summoned earlier. Seeing the sight before them, of the beloved Headmistress on the floor with a wand pointed at her chest and adrenaline still pumping through their veins from the battle the night before, they saw red and quickly sent a multitude of spells at the person who dared to attack Professor McGonagall.
The different coloured lights soared towards the mystery man. Red, Gold, Violate, Pink, Blue, Magenta and White streaked through the air and hit him squarely in the back just after he had muttered “Ennervate”.
Crushing once again to the floor, his vision went black.
Minerva groggily opened her eyes to see the face of Kingsley Shacklebolt looming above her with a look of concern gracing his features. At once, coming quickly to her senses she sat upright and looked around for the man with the grey eyes. She saw him unmoving on the floor, bound in chains and knocked out cold. She attempted to get up but found her legs gave out beneath her so instead she resigned herself to crawl towards the man.
“Stop!” cried Kingsley “He just tried to kill you!”
“You idiot! He was trying to wake me up! I fainted you fool” snapped McGonagall without so much as taking her eyes off the chained man.
“I knew you shouldn’t have been let out of the Hospital wing yet. You’re still weak Minerva. You need to rest” he said whilst trying to reach her before she got to the prisoner but she was too quick despite being more than 20 years his senior.
“I am not weak!” she cried indignantly as she reached for the man’s hair which was once again obscuring his face “I was in a state of shock”
“It must have been quite a shock for you to pass-out. Takes a lot to scare a tough old bird like you” Kingsley laughed nervously as the man’s hair was swept off his face.
The colour drained from Kingsley’s face as he set his eyes upon the man he had cursed just moments ago. He dare not believe it to be true. It had to be a ruse. Polyjuice or a metamorphagus or maybe just some very cleaver transfiguration. There was just no way that this man could be laid before him! Utterly Impossible! He was dead! Kingsley himself had seen this man die with his own two eyes!
He looked to Minerva for answers but could see in her face that none could be provided. After a few more moment of looking at the man on the floor Minerva waved her wand in a complicated fashion, all the while muttering incantations under her breath, before a faint golden light began to glow around the form of the chained man before them.
“I don’t know how this is possible. The only thing I am sure of is that it is indeed him. Somehow or other, Sirius Black is back!”
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