Recuperation

It was already close to sunrise when Madam Pomfrey was done with my checkup. All residual dark magic, courtesy of the scar seem to have disappeared. She also cleansed and healed the new scar in my chest. Other than that, my body seemed to be perfectly fine except for the signs of exhaustion. Although, she said something about my body demanding more nutrients. It was chalked off as the after effect of the horcrux removal. I knew that it had something to do with what Cellarius stated about fixing the health of this body.

As for my eye, they could not find anything apart from the fact that magic seemed to congeal around the eye. They ran several tests, but in the end, it was deemed as harmless. For good measure, Dumbledore conjured a snake and asked me to speak to it, but like we suspected, the parseltongue was gone. After all the tests ended, I didn't bother returning to my dorm and just slept in the hospital wing.

Next day, I woke up around noon, courtesy of a ravenous stomach. To my relief, Madam Pomfrey had foreseen this and had several plateful of dishes in hand. I did not pay attention to what I was eating, and just stuffed my face with great vigor.

Once my stomach was sated, I looked around the hospital wing. Hermione and Ron were still asleep, while Neville, Luna and Ginny were talking softly. They then noticed that I was awake and greeted me. I could see that they were curious about my eye, but decided not to ask anything now. I just nodded at them and then looked at the dazed face of Umbridge who was deposited on the far end of the wing. It seemed like Dumbledore had secured her from the centaurs. Shame.

After checking with Madam Pomfrey that I was okay to go, I told them that I will be back after a while and left the hospital wing. I walked towards the Gryffindor tower, doing my best to avoid anyone else in the process. The one or two people who crossed my path would always whisper amongst themselves. I could see how this would be tiring. I quickened my pace and reached the common room in a few minutes.

The minute I entered, everyone stopped talking and stared at me. Paying no heed, I quickly rushed towards the dorm and sat on my bed. Thankfully, nobody had followed me upstairs. I opened the trunk and fished out some writing supplies and Harry's album. Here I go again, trying to segregate the identities. I needed to find some time and ensure that there is no more dissociation. The Deva Path would help me with that. That way, I would not be blindsided by any emotions I was not aware of.

I riffled through the album and found a picture of the marauders that Sirius gave me a while ago. I picked up another photo, but this time it was the both of us. It was taken during the Christmas break, I believe. These would do. After spending several minutes writing what I wanted to write, I sealed the envelope and looked at the trunk. I picked up my coin purse, but then relented. The room of hidden things is bound to have a ton of lost money. Why waste my own? I threw the coin purse back in and then looked at the clothes. Except for the uniform, they were utter garbage. All of them were a couple of sizes too big and some were even fraying. I scrunched my face in disgust. This would be an eventful summer for the Dursleys, I would make sure of that. I then stuffed the writing supplies, the letter and the pictures into my day pack and hurried out of the tower.

By the time I returned to the hospital wing, Hermione and Ron seemed to have been woken up. They were eating their lunch when I made my entry.

"How are you all feeling?" I asked.

"We're all healed up," Neville said, pointing to himself, Luna and Ginny.

"Stupid floating brain did a number on me. But she reckons it'll be fine in a couple of days," Ron grumbled, looking at his bandaged arm.

"I'll be here for a while," muttered Hermione. She was the one who took the most damage after all. A surge of guilt passed through me and I clamped it down immediately. I needed to come to terms with these new emotions quickly. Or else it will be a pain.

"What about you? Did you really get hit with another killing curse? Oh Harry what would we have done if you had died-" she winced and grabbed her ribs, effectively stopping the onslaught of questions. Typical Hermione. The old Harry Potter must have done something right, to obtain the unwavering loyalty of Hermione. I don't remember my old life now but I was sure that I hadn't ever been in the receiving end of such fierce loyalty.

I went with the standard explanation that Dumbledore cooked up last night before he left. It would not do for others to know that I was housing a bit of old snake-face inside my head.

"Yes. Apparently there was some residual magic stuck in my scar due to the first one I was hit with. We don't know how it went undetected for all these years, but when another killing curse with the same magical signature hit me, it… exploded, I don't know the correct term. What Dumbledore told me was that the residue coming off of me repelled the one that struck me. And well, it also caused this mutation. One good thing that came out of it is that I don't need glasses anymore. It seems that the proximity to that residue had an effect on my eyesight and my mental capacity as well."

"Oh. I've never heard of such a thing. I should later read more about the residue left behind by dark curses. Who knew it could help you out like this…" she trailed off.

I chuckled a bit and said, "This was a one-time thing Hermione. Whatever it was, has left my system. No more killing curses for me."

Her face took a thoughtful look as she kept muttering something under her breath. Just then, we heard a fluttering sound coming from the window towards our left. To my surprise, Hedwig just landed on the windowsill and looked at me imperiously.

"Hey girl, sensed that I had a letter to send?" I asked while stroking her head. She gave a short bark and puffed her feathers. I was worried that Hedwig would sense that I was not just Harry anymore, but it seemed that the department had done a spotless job in that regard.

I could feel a connecting with Hedwig, something empowered by magic. I pushed my magic more to that connection and to my shock, her right eye flashed the sixth path for a moment. Thankfully, I was standing such that nobody could see her face. I was never told about this! What I knew was that I needed to inject my magic into somebody's bloodstream in order to possess them using the sixth path. But apparently, due to the magical connection between us, it was not needed.

Moreover, the connection felt even stronger now, and I could feel Hedwig's intent and emotions. She was curious about my new change, yet she was happy that I was safe. Internally, I was giddy with excitement. I did not show it outwards though, needed to maintain the façade. She hopped onto my shoulder and sent out a wave of hunger towards me.

Understanding what she wanted, I walked towards the cart of food that was there for us and looked around. Sadly, there was no bacon, but there were a few chicken drumsticks. I pointed at them and tried to send an apologetic feeling through the connection. It seemed to work, as she bobbed her head and barked. Meanwhile, the others were crowded around the Daily Prophet and discussing about what was written.

As expected, Voldemort's return took front page. Immediately followed by that was the headline, The Boy-who-lived-again. Peachy. I groaned and looked at the article. It contained speculations as to how I survived a second AK. It also had accounts on how I was able to throw off the imperious during my fourth year. They were speculating if I was immune to the unforgivables. No need to correct them of their assumptions. The less crucios and AKs coming my way, the happier I would be. The accompanying photo to the article was that of me crushing my glasses and then walking towards the minister. I wonder how they got the picture, there were no cameramen at that time.

Another article was there which mentioned the failings of Fudge and even how I mentioned that he buried facts the past two years. That was good, the sooner the buffoon was kicked out, the better. And I suppose my letter would expedite the process.

"Luna"

"Yes"

"This is an obituary," I said, holding up the letter. I hesitated for a moment before continuing, "Everyone thinks that he was a mass murder who was working for Voldemort. I cannot allow that. And I do not want it to be published in that trash heap," I said as I pointed to the Daily Prophet. I took a long breath and continued as I fished out the photos.

"I wrote what I knew about his life, about what he had to go through. The struggles with his shitty family, the unjust incarceration, and then what he did for me, I wrote everything. I also wrote about his friends, the marauders. Since dad and Padfoot are… gone, I don't think anyone would care about them being illegal animagi. And everyone knows about what Moony is, we have Snape to thank for that. I… just don't want his memory to be tarnished."

I could see that Hermione wanted to say something, but she forced herself to keep quiet.

"You are doing the right thing mate," Ron said.

"Hmm, oh, does anyone know the doubling charm?" I asked.

"Let me take care of that Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said from behind, startling us all. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears as she looked at the two photos. She made the copies and gave me the originals first.

"They should last long enough for them to be printed. My condolences," she said and then moved over to Hermione and handed her some potions. I took the photos and then placed the one of the marauders on the bedside table. Carefully, I cast a cutting charm and severed Wormtail from the photo.

"Forgot that the rat bastard was still alive," muttered Ron.

Not for long. I threw his photo into the fireplace and cleared my throat.

"Please let me know how much it'll cost to publish this Luna."

"I don't think that is necessary. Daddy already earned a lot from your interview. We owe you this much."

I thanked her and handed over the letter and the duplicate photos to her.

"Do you have any writing supplies?" she asked.

I nodded and handed her a quill and parchment. She quickly wrote a letter and rolled it up. She then walked over to Hedwig to send it alongside my letter to her father.

It would be right to honor him with a funeral, but I don't think they did that in canon. Moreover, it would be a prime spot for a Death Eater raid. I wondered if Dumbledore would help me set up an empty grave in Godric's Hollow. There was no body to bury after all.

That night, back in my dorm room, I closed the curtains of my bed and sat cross legged. After closing my eyes, I pushed as much magic as I could to my right eye, triggering the sixth path in the process. Banking on the superior prowess it gave in regards to mind magic, I dove deep into my mind. The dichotomy in my mind shouldn't exist. I should come to terms with the fact that I am a single entity named Harry Potter now. Our personalities were merged, but it was his life that I had to live. So no more need to differentiate between the two of us. I was Harry Potter, Harry Potter was I. I let the emotions connected to each memory wash over me, and I accepted them all.

It took a long time to accomplish that, but once I was done, I was sure that no surge of emotion would surprise me now. The Deva Path ensured that my mind was seamless now. I was finally one. Cellarius was right, if I had retained my old memories, this would have been impossible to achieve.

The next morning, I rose early and made my way to the seventh floor. The room of hidden things left me gaping. Despite knowing about it from canon, I was never prepared for the sheer amount of things that were dumped in this room. I steadied myself and asked the room to segregate the money to my left and the goblin made weapons to my right. Slowly, the room rumbled and ordered everything as I specified it. The staggering amount of coins brought out a predatory grin on my face. But there were only four goblin weapons to my right. Well, they were rare indeed, no need to get too greedy. I then asked the room to segregate trunks in front of me. Every time, I asked the room to reorder the lost things and not create new stuff. Had to be sure about that because I did not want to leave and find out that I couldn't take it with me because it was something created by the room. Once everything was done, I called for dobby.

"Did Harry Potter sir call for Dobby?" he piped up happily.

"Yes, Dobby. Can you please check if any of the things in these three piles are cursed?" he briskly nodded his head and started following my instructions. After a few minutes, he placed the cursed trunks and weapons in a separate pile. To my utter dismay, all the weapons were cursed. I would need to purchase a goblin made dagger then. But this could also work in my favor. The goblins will happily take these off my hands. And they did employ curse breakers, so they will have no problems cleansing these weapons. I would need to inform them beforehand about the cursed status though. Don't need them after my head even before I attempt to rob the Lestrange vault.

I thought of getting a mokeskin pouch, but Hagrid would give me a new one later anyway. Why fight through the security of a used pouch when I can have a new one?

Once we were done with the segregation, I went through the trunks, trying to find one with enchantments. There was one multi-compartment trunk, but the frame was cracked and the locks were busted. Somehow it seemed to maintain its enchantments though. We looked inside the compartments and they were indeed bigger on the inside, but the insides were sprayed with some rotted potion. I did not want to even think about what happened to this trunk. Dobby ensured me that he can clean it up and got to work on it. The little fellow deserved a treat for this.

As he was occupied with the cleaning job, I levitated the cursed weapons into a standard trunk of decent condition. I had to keep it all stored until I could visit Gringotts. Ugh, that was another headache. I still had my key, but I had no idea what the state of my finances were.

In a short while, Dobby was done cleaning the trunk. I was as good as new from the inside, apart from the battered locks and the cracked frame. I wondered why the original owner didn't bother to fix it. Must have been some spoilt rich kid.

"Dobby is afraid we can't be fixing the locks sir."

"Dobby, will you keep what happens now a secret?" I asked.

"Of course sir!"

I closed my eyes and pushed power to my right eye once again. I channeled the fourth path and immediately fell to my knees. I could hear Dobby gasp loudly. The surge of power was not something I was prepared for. The amount of energy I was channeling through me was immense. It dwarfed the amount of magic inside me, even despite the boost I got due to the rebirth. I opened my eyes and could see a faint indigo tint in the right side of my vision. I asked the room for a mirror and saw that the flames surrounding my eye were burning strong.

Pointing my wand towards the trunk, I shot a reparo. The trunk fixed itself in a jiffy and it did not even make a scratch to the amount of magic coursing through me. For good measure, I cast the spell a couple more times and I could see that even the wear and tear was beginning to fade from the trunk. Happy with my success, I switched back to the sixth path. The loss of energy hit me immediately. Even though I was at my peak right now, the lack of the boost dissatisfied me greatly. I must make sure that I don't get addicted to the raw power that the fourth path gave me.

I could feel the ambient magic entering my eye and refilling what I had used just up a few minutes ago. I tried tapping into the excess energy as it were, but apparently only the fourth path provided access to it. All this while, Dobby was looking at me with renewed worship on his eyes.

"Remember Dobby, secret." I reminded him

"Yes sir!" he answered with fervor.

"Actually, keep all this a secret. Don't tell anyone what we did here. The less people that know about this portion of the room, the better it is."

Dobby nodded his head vigorously and then proceeded to help me levitate the piles of money into the trunk. For now, I used a color switching charm to differentiate between the trunks and left them inside the room.

Now that we were done with the money, my mind went towards the horcrux that was present in the room. It wouldn't be smart to rashly destroy it here and now. I knew that it was not going anywhere. The plan needed more thought before I did anything. Moreover, I did not have access to the chamber of secrets currently, nor could I control fiendfyre yet. The only thing that could destroy it now would be the sword of Gryffindor but that was with Dumbledore too.

I need to be a bit more patient. I had a few theories on how I could access the chamber but my skills were lacking to bring them to fruition. No time should be spared this summer.

The last few days of the term were spent in a similar vein. I usually eat with Neville and then visit Hermione and Ron. One time when I went there, I used the first path to place a time delayed illusion on Umbridge that would make her hear the noise of an approaching centaur horde. It took me a while to succeed with it, but in the end, I knew that the illusion was in place. All I had to do was imagine what I wanted to show, and then layer it onto the target's mind. It got more difficult the more proficient they were in securing their minds. I later heard from Hermione how Umbridge had freaked out in the middle of the night and Pomfrey had just stunned her and went back to sleep.

Most of the time I would be holed up inside the room of requirement, judiciously using the practice dummies to get accustomed to the spells in my repertoire. The enhancements given to me by the department ensured that I was kept on my toes, coming to terms with the changes to my casting. When people asked me where I was, I just told them that I needed some alone time. After the obituary was published in the Quibbler, nobody dared ask me why I was roaming alone.

By good fortune, my letter was just in time for it to be entered into this month's issue. I could see that Snape's mood took a dive when people were discussing Sirius, but Snape was a can of worms that I did not want to open at this point in time. Dumbledore agreed to place a gravestone for Sirius near my parents without fuss. When I asked him where their graves were, he muttered something about piling failures and promised me to take me there at a later date. Right now would be too predictable for the Death Eaters, and I could agree with that reasoning.

There were a few days left in the term and I did not want to squander my resources; namely, the availability of the Room of Requirement. For I knew that next year, Malfoy would be hogging it. That was another thing that I had to plan for. Snape and Dumbledore would be protecting him, it wouldn't be easy to disrupt the dipshit's mission without painting crosshairs on myself.