The Boy Who Lives Again By Harlequin Hero DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN THIS STUFF!!! IT'S NOT MINE!!! GET OFF MY CASE!!! THIS IS ALL J.K. ROWLING'S!!! SHE'S A BRITISH WOMAN!!! I'M NOT BRITISH NOR AM I A WOMAN!!! Thank you. CHAPTER 3: The Dead Man “So you were dead?” “More or less.” “And now you’re back?” “Yep.” “You came in through Hermione’s fireplace?” “That bout sums it up.” “And I fainted…” “All good stories contain a good ending.” Ron had been pelting Harry with questions the entire walk to the Leaky Cauldron. Most people ignored Harry, but from time to time, a passerby would gasp as if they’d seen a ghost. Hermione was quiet, for the most part, something that was very uncommon of her, at least to Harry. To Ron, Hermione’s quiet attitude was normal. She didn’t talk as much since Harry had died. They reached to door of the Leaky Cauldron. Harry opened the door without hesitation, knowing all muggles would ignore this building completely. Everyone in the small bar stopped what they were doing and stared at their new guest. A guest that had been dead for a year. An old witch walked up to him and touched his face. “Well I’ll be damned,” she whispered. “This is Harry Potter!” Immediately a flood of people gathered around Harry. “Where have you been?” “How’d you come back?” “What’s the afterlife back?” “Wanna buy a drink?” Questions continued to hit Harry. He lifted his hand as if he were going to speak. Everyone got really quiet. He walked through them and they parted for him. This man was going to speak. Let him do it where he wants! He turned as he got to a brick wall. He turned and opened his mouth and inhaled. As if giving it a second thought, he turned around, pulled out his wand, and gave the right bricks the right taps. The wall opened and Harry stepped into Diagon Alley. No one in the Leaky Cauldron moved. Finally, a young wizard spoke up. “I think he just left,” he said. “Whatever gave you that idea, dumb-shit?” was the response from the same old witch from before. Ron laughed and laughed as they stepped into the alley. Harry’s exiting stunt was absolutely brilliant. “They all were expecting-!!! And you just-!!!” None of Ron’s thoughts got finished through his laughter. Hermione, trying to keep a straight face, said, “That wasn’t very nice, Harry. They were all expecting you to say something.” Harry just grinned. “Yeah I know. Isn’t it great?” Ron saw the quidditch supplies store. Not even his newly alive best friend could keep him from floating that way. “I’ll catch up with you guys later,” he said dreamily as he joined the group of little kids staring through the window at the latest model of broomstick. Harry shook his head. “He hasn’t changed much since I’ve been gone, has he?” Hermione shrugged. “He knows how to use a phone now.” “Really?” Harry asked, obviously surprised. “And the whole shouting thing…” “Almost totally gone,” Hermione said as if she were talking about a child. “Amazing…” Harry said. They passed the robe store. “Um, Harry. The robe store is that way. If you didn’t want robes, we could’ve gone shopping for muggle clothes.” Harry just kept walking. “I know where I’m going.” He stopped outside of an unmarked building. Hermione just looked at it and then she looked at Harry. “Harry. I don’t think this building’s being used.” Harry didn’t say anything. He just opened the door and walked in. Sighing, Hermione followed him in. What she found was not what she expected. A large room full of clothes and… auror weapons. “Harry…” she managed to say. The shopkeeper stopped in her tracks. She looked at Harry. Blinked. Looked again. Then she gasped. “It’s me, Mrs. Penniturn,” Harry said. “My God, it is you!” the woman exclaimed. “But you were-“ “Dead,” Harry finished for her. “So I’ve heard.” The woman just stared in awe. Harry picked at his tattered and dirty clothing. “I need a new wardrobe,” he said. Snapping out of her trance, the woman began to move around quickly, using her wand to have some rulers make measurements and write them down. “Of course, of course, of course!” She read the measurements. “Come with me,” she said, still a little unsettled by Harry’s presence. Hermione grabbed Harry’s hand as he moved to follow the woman. “Yeah?” he said. “When you came back, the first thing you did is kiss me. I was just thinking about it. Why did you do that?” Harry didn’t answer right away. He looked down and then he looked her in the eyes. Those beautiful, hazel eyes. He opened his mouth to speak. “Come on, Mr. Potter!” Mrs. Penniturn shouted. He closed his mouth and grinned. With that, he winked at Hermione and turned to follow Mrs. Penniturn. Hermione sighed. A few minutes later, Harry stepped out in new clothes. Auror clothing. A lot of black. Black pants. Black shoes. Black shirt. Black trench-coat. Black gloves. He looked at himself in the mirror and looked at Hermione. “God damn, I make this job look so cool,” he said. Mrs. Penniturn admired the outfit. “Very nice. Picking up the job again, Potter? Does the ministry even know you’re back?” “They will soon enough,” he answered. The old woman nodded. “Here are a few more of the same outfit and muggle clothes. I remember your preferences, Mr. Potter.” Harry looked in the box. “God bless you, Mrs. Penniturn. You never seem to fail me.” “Anything for you, Mr. Potter.” “How much do I owe you?” Harry asked. Mrs. Penniturn shook her head. “This time, it’s on me. But don’t expect me to go so soft on you every time!” Harry smiled. He looked back at Hermione. She’d been admiring him from behind. “Ready?” he asked. “Let’s go get Ron,” Hermione answered. They pulled Ron away from the window. Apparently, he’d been talking an 8-year-old boy’s ear off about the newest Firebolt model. “And it can go 5 times faster than the Nebulus 7!” Ron shouted as his friends dragged him away and the little boy gave a silent blessing that was over. The three walked down the street. Ron and Hermione were following Harry, who obviously knew where he wanted to be. The Ministry of Magic. “What are we doing here?” Ron asked. “I have a job to do,” Harry answered, walking to the door. Ron looked at Hermione for an explanation. She shrugged and followed Harry. People kept stopping and staring at Harry in disbelief. He ignored them all. He seemed to have this new urge to get his job done. He got to where he wanted to be. The Minister’s office. Without knocking, he walked in. Albus Dumbledore, Minister of Magic, looked at Harry and smiled. “I was wondering when you would come visit me, my boy,” the old wizard said with a smile. Harry softened up and returned the smile. Ron was baffled. “You mean you already knew he was back?” “The very moment he came through Miss Granger’s fireplace,” Dumbledore responded. Ron didn’t bother asking how he knew. Dumbledore studied Harry. “Already dressed for work, Mr. Potter?” “I have a job to do,” Harry said. Dumbledore now understood what Harry was talking about. “You’ll start in one week. I want you to be prepared for this,” Dumbledore said, very seriously. Harry nodded. Hermione put her hand on Harry’s shoulder. “What job, Harry?” Harry turned to her. “I have to hunt down and kill Peter Pettigrew.” (A/N: Hell yes! I love it when I can be satisfied with my own cliffy. Thank you so much for the reviews. This is the fastest I’ve EVER received reviews for one fic. In other words, keep them coming! Peace out!)
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