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Harry Potter: Another Chance

An older Harry Potter dies after experiencing much hardship and defeating his worst enemy before being reincarnated in an alternate version of his world where his parents are alive and he is no longer the Chosen One. Now he used all his accumulated knowledge and skills to protect those important to him and defeat Voldemort once more. The upload rate is currently at 6 chapters per week, I may increase it in the future if I have more time. I do not have specific days or times for the uploads because my full-time job has an erratic schedule so I upload whenever I have the time. But you can expect 6 new chapters by the end of the week. Sorry for the inconvenience, I hope my readers understand. A.N - - No harem - There will be a lot of violence, so be warned. - The pacing will not be too fast, this is going to be longer than my previous fic so be patient.

Krio_Genix · Livros e literatura
Classificações insuficientes
402 Chs

Chapter 287: Back Home

Disclaimer

Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K Rowling.

I own nothing but the original characters I make.

 

"Dialogue"

'Thoughts'

-Author notes-

Chapter 287: Back Home

"Master!" Dobby appeared inside his room with a loud 'pop'.

Harry put down his quill and turned around to look at the house elf.

Dobby knew better than to disturb him while he was working, and especially this late at night.

"What happened?" he asked with a hint of concern.

His father was supposed to return hours ago, and he was afraid Dobby's interruption was related to that.

"Big Master is back!" Dobby exclaimed.

"So he is back?" He felt somewhat relieved. "Wait, is he injured?" This did not explain why Dobby was so nervous.

The elf began to stammer his words while trying to explain, but all Harry could understand was that he did not come back alone.

"Never mind... I'll go check. Where is he?"

"Main Hall, Sir Harry!"

When Harry entered the room, he immediately noticed the tense atmosphere.

He found his father sitting at the table with a pale face and a cup of tea in front of him.

On the other side, was his mother with an expression of concern. Next to him were two Aurors he was very familiar with.

"Harry…." James glanced at his son.

Harry saw something in his father's eyes. Something he had never seen there before… an extreme amount of fear.

He had seen those eyes many times before but never on James Potter.

Dawlish was in even worse shape. The teacup in his hands was constantly making clanking noises as he trembled.

Moody appeared to be fine on the outside, but anyone who knew the man well enough could tell otherwise.

"What happened to the three of you to end up like this?" Harry asked.

Those were all veteran aurors who had seen plenty of action in their careers.

"Harry...did you call your son here?" Dawlish glanced at Lily. He didn't think this was a conversation appropriate for someone of his age, no matter how brilliant he was.

"We saw him…" James spoke in a somber tone.

Harry didn't need to ask his father about who this was. "What did he look like?"

James gave him a detailed retelling of what they went through that night, and their encounter with the Dark Lord himself.

"But we can't be sure it was him! It has been more than ten years since he disappeared. Why would You-Know-Who… why would he return now?"

"Hmph, think what you want, Dawlish. But I have no doubt that the bastard we saw… that was the old Dark Lord alright," Moody said.

Harry was not listening to them. He was instead thinking about his father's words. 'A skeletal dragon, zombies, an army of inferi, red eyes… it seems like he had delved deep into necromancy territory while in search of his answers' Harry thought.

This was not a very surprising result. Necromancy was a popular area of study for those who wished to fight against Death itself.

And Voldemort had already been studying it before even the first war began.

'Reanimating a dragon could not be an easy feat… what else has he done?' he wondered.

He was also worried about what kind of method to preserve his life he was using now.

Necromancy had several of them, but he was no expert in that practice. 'I'll have to do some research.'

Despite the grim nature of the news he had just received, Harry felt a lot more at ease than before. At least now he had a much better idea of what he was dealing with and could prepare accordingly.

"What about Madam Bones and Susan? Did you not see them at all?" Lily asked.

James shook his head. "Everything was destroyed by that thing. The Bones Manor… there was nothing left."

"Had they been still alive, my eye would not have missed them," Moody answered her.

"And if we didn't leave as soon as we did, we would all have died there," Dawlish added.

Lily nodded solemnly. She knew her husband would not have run away if there was someone he could save.

Moody turned both eyes towards Harry. "Tell me, boy. What the hell was that explosive you gave your father?"

"Oh, that fire scared me silly! I really thought I was about to die," Dawlish exclaimed. "Did you make that?"

"Yes, that golden fire was very strange. It burned down every inferius in sight until there was nothing left of them, but it didn't burn us or the house at all," Moody observed Harry while he spoke.

"It actually felt very comfortable," Dawlish felt the need to add.

James remained silent. He wasn't sure if his son had some good answers prepared for this.

Although Harry never specifically told him, James had assumed this was something he had learned during his previous life.

If he hadn't been in such a dire situation, he would have preferred not to use it at all and instead protect his son's secrets.

"Ah, that thing." Harry made an innocent face. "I'm afraid that's family magic."

"Family magic?" Dawlish asked.

"That is correct. The information about the artifact my father used, as well as its nature and the method of creating it… I found it all written in the Potter Grimoire, so I cannot talk about it," Harry told them.

'Well, at least it will be written when I have time for that part… so it's not completely a lie,' Harry thought.

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