Consciousness returned slowly and painfully. Several times, he had almost woken up, but then a new wave of pain would throw him back into oblivion. During his first attempt to wake up, he had the impression that he was being dragged somewhere; during the second attempt, he felt he was lying on something soft... And on the fifth attempt, he managed to open his eyes. There was no pain at all. Somewhere on the edge of his consciousness, a flicker of confusion arose—how had the once unbearable pain disappeared without a trace? With one glance, Harry recognized the Dursleys' living room. The sun was shining brightly through the window; it was daytime, and moreover, probably the same day. Not much time had passed...
Only then did Harry notice something he should have seen right away—he wasn't alone: a chair had been pulled up to the couch he was lying on, and a girl was sitting in it. She was both unfamiliar and eerily familiar; it took Harry a few seconds to understand what was going on. She bore features of Fleur, Cho, and many others, even... his mother. It was as if all the most beautiful traits of every girl he had ever seen, including his fifteen-year-old mother from Snape's memories, had been combined into one. This stunningly beautiful blonde raised her eyes to him, bright green like his, like Lily's. Harry stared at her wide-eyed, subconsciously noting her simple blouse and skirt.
"I see you're awake!" she said in a pleasant, very melodic voice.
"W-who..." Harry stammered, cleared his throat, and tried again, doing slightly better. "Who are you?" he asked her, just as he once had with Hagrid. His companion laughed strangely.
"Good question, Harry! If only I knew!" Harry's eyes widened even further, though that had seemed impossible before.
"Uh..." Nothing intelligent came to mind. "How can you not know?" A bit of clarity returned to his head, and he added, reaching for his wand, which was in his pocket, "And if you don't know who you are, how do you know me?"
"Haha... Yes, I don't know! You're confused, now put yourself in my place; I'm just as bewildered! I feel like a baby that grew up in an instant!" She ran her fingers through her luxurious hair in a suspiciously familiar gesture. "The first thing I remember is myself in that clearing, with you lying next to me, and fire flickering around. I was standing in the fire, but at that moment, it didn't matter. Those... Dementors were chasing the man who saved you, as they wanted to capture him alive. I looked at you and knew you were Harry Potter. I couldn't explain my actions then, as thoughts and knowledge flashed in my mind as if appearing from nowhere. A moment earlier, I didn't know where I was, but then suddenly I knew... I realized we were close to Privet Drive, where your relatives live. Don't even ask how I knew about the Dursleys; I have no idea!" Her voice began to sound hysterical. "I grabbed you and dragged you here..."
"You dragged me?" Harry, of course, had nothing in common with Dudley, but he didn't consider himself light as a feather either.
"Yes..." She looked at him confusedly, not understanding the problem. Then it dawned on her, and she glanced at her arms and shoulders, which weren't exactly muscular. "At that moment, I wasn't thinking straight; I acted almost instinctively and didn't feel your weight..." She was clearly bewildered, adding yet another mystery to the pile of unexplained things.
"Alright, let's say we move on from that."
"Yes... I don't remember how I got here. Your relatives were completely shocked. You leave to get some aspirin, and by the time you come back, you're unconscious in a stranger's arms. In any case, they let me in, but what happened to them afterward, I don't know. I was too focused on you, and they haven't shown up since..." She rubbed her forehead with a gesture identical to the way he rubbed his scar when it hurt or when he was deep in thought. "In the couple of hours you've been unconscious, I've managed to calm down a bit, and memories started to fill my mind, but they're not mine! It was your memory..." She leaned back in the chair and covered her face with her hands.
"How can they be mine?" Harry felt his mind spinning.
"Like I said, it feels like I know you better than you know yourself. For example, you regret ending your letter to Hermione with the words 'I don't want anything to do with you anymore,' but you don't plan to apologize."
"How do you..." No one could have known about that; he hadn't told anyone, hadn't written it down, he didn't keep a diary...
"I don't know!" she interrupted him. "I'm telling you, it feels like I know everything about you, everything you know, and nothing else. I don't know who I am, where I came from, or how I ended up here. I don't even remember my name... or if I ever had one. It's starting to feel like I was born in that clearing, and I simply don't have a name..." She finished in a barely audible voice.
"Uh..." Once again, Harry was left speechless. The whole story sounded like nonsense, some poorly thought-out plot to confuse him, but at the same time, he was absolutely sure that everything she said was true. After a few attempts to make sense of it, he came to one conclusion—it was beyond him, and he needed to ask someone more experienced for help. "Alright... I'll be honest, I think I believe you, but I don't understand what it all means. I'll need to ask Dumbledore for advice; this sounds so wild it's clearly his territory..."
"Ah, I see you've woken up, you rascal!" Aunt Petunia entered the living room, her voice lacking the usual anger, though there was still irritation. "Now quickly explain what all this means!"
— "I was attacked," Harry replied calmly. Everything that had just happened seemed distant now, overshadowed entirely by this strange woman... his savior, if you think about it. "I shouldn't have left the house. But what's done is done. Aunt Petunia, while I was unconscious, did anyone come? Maybe some owls arrived?"
— "No, everything was quiet! Those crazies didn't show up!" It was Uncle Vernon who appeared; he clearly wanted to say more, but Aunt Petunia put a hand on his shoulder, and he fell silent.
— "Oh, these wizards..." Harry groaned. "Last year I used a Patronus once, and immediately there was a whole scene! Within half an hour, owls swarmed in, and this time, two Unforgivable Curses, and not a single soul noticed..."
— "I was thinking the same thing," came a voice from the chair. "It seems all the surveillance they had on you last summer has been lifted..." Just at that moment, the doorbell rang.
Harry tensed instantly, though he knew that if it were enemies, they wouldn't have politely rung the bell. Meanwhile, the door was already opening, no, not on its own, but by Dudley, who had called his friends earlier. Showing remarkable awareness for himself, Dudley realized that more strange things were likely to happen in the house today, and he decided to flee. A muffled scream echoed from the hallway. Harry was just reaching for his wand when a man with a white beard in a flamboyant purple robe burst into the room. Albus Dumbledore, pale as a ghost. He froze for a moment upon entering, scanning everyone present: the Dursleys, Harry sitting on the couch, and the unknown woman in the chair.
— "Oh, Professor!" Harry exclaimed before Dumbledore could gather his thoughts.
— "Harry... Is that really you?"
— "My Patronus takes the form of a stag. Professor..."
— "Is that really you, sir?" the girl in the chair spoke up.
— "I..." Dumbledore looked at the stranger for a few seconds but then decided to respond. "I told you about the Prophecy, Harry. Are you alright?"
— "I think so. But honestly, not thanks to you or the Order."
— "It was a terrible mistake, Harry. I came as soon as I found out..."
— "Excuse me?" Now Harry was genuinely outraged. "There are Dementors flying around Little Whinging, Death Eaters wandering about, Unforgivable Curses being thrown, and it takes you two hours to find out?!"
— "It was a horrible misunderstanding... Nazemicus was on duty near your house today..."
— "What, did he go off to buy cauldrons again?!" the stranger interrupted, echoing the exact words Harry had been about to shout.
— "No, Harry..." Dumbledore looked away, clearly ashamed, so much so that he didn't even notice who had asked the question. "The Ministry also placed Aurors near your house. They noticed a suspicious figure circling the house and tried to apprehend Nazemicus. He thought he was being attacked and tried to flee for help... As a result of all this, and a whole series of misunderstandings and some negligence, both the Order and the Ministry were on high alert," Harry raised his eyebrows in bewilderment—he hadn't expected such words from the headmaster. "And your house was left unguarded. The report of Unforgivable Curses being used here must have gotten lost..." Dumbledore couldn't continue as he was interrupted by a loud, hysterical laugh.
Harry hadn't laughed like that in a long time; there was a time when he thought he'd never laugh again. But now, he simply couldn't hold it in. The laughter had been building up ever since Dumbledore mentioned trying to apprehend Nazemicus... It was probably hysteria, caused by everything he'd been through, and he couldn't stop. He didn't even immediately realize that he wasn't laughing alone. The mysterious girl was nearly sliding off her chair from laughing. Once Harry calmed down a little, he saw Dumbledore sitting in another chair, and the Dursleys were nowhere to be seen—they had apparently left to avoid further trouble.
— "You know..." Harry's voice was tinged with tears. "Now I understand how Voldemort won the last time."
— "Don't joke about that, Harry," the headmaster said wearily, rubbing his temples.
— "So, no one even noticed that I almost got killed here?"
— "As I said, the Ministry's surveillance detected the Unforgivable Curses, but the report got lost somehow, possibly sabotage. I happened to be nearby, and when I saw the Dark Magic detectors go off, I rushed here immediately..."
— "Well, Professor, if you keep protecting Harry like this, he won't live much longer," the stranger interrupted again.
— "Harry, will you introduce me to this young lady?"
— "That's the problem, sir, we don't know who she is..."
— "I don't know either," the girl chimed in.
— "We were hoping you could help..."
— "Yes..." The new mystery seemed to distract Dumbledore again. "I... actually, I came here to check on you and take you to Hogwarts. Recent events show that you're not safe here. But now..." He glanced at the girl.
— "I trust her, sir, and... she saved me."
— "Alright, then I think we should be off. Harry, pack your things, and I'll talk to your aunt and uncle..."
— "Alright!.. Professor, I ask your permission to use a spell..."
— "Depends on the spell..."
— "You'll see, the kitchen has some issues, and I ask your permission to fix them..."
— "Fine..." Dumbledore didn't quite understand what Harry meant and decided to investigate.
— "Harry, I'll help you," the mysterious girl volunteered.
Ten minutes later, they came downstairs with a packed suitcase and Hedwig's empty cage. The headmaster and the elder Dursleys were in the kitchen. It seemed much had been said during their absence, but now everyone was silent, and it was Dumbledore who spoke first.
— "Remember what I told you," he addressed Petunia and Vernon. "I still ask that you give Harry shelter next summer until he turns seventeen, should he need it. Harry?"
— "I'm ready, just... Aunt, Uncle, I've been allowed to use one spell..." Harry said ominously, pulling his wand from his pocket. The Dursleys trembled. Harry waved it a few times to the right, then the left... "I decided to prove to you that you were wrong... so... Reparo," he said, restoring the fridge that had been damaged that morning.