There was a low murmuring in the room. Harry heard a few different voices. He didn't recognize some of them, but he knew some sounded familiar. Harry tried to separate the different voices, but it made his head spin, so he soon stopped. They sounded worried about him, but he really didn't want to open his eyes. Light was glaring through his eyelids, and his head was pounding. He felt like he had just been run over by a hippogriff, not a pleasant feeling. He moaned and rolled over onto his side, trying to block the light.
"Albus! He's awake!" a woman's voice said happily. Harry felt someone sitting down on the edge of his bed. A cool hand brushed his hair out of his face, caressing his cheek gently. "Harry, honey, wake up. It's time to go home," the woman said kindly.
Reluctantly, Harry opened his eyes, blinking quickly so that his eyes could adjust to the light. He reached a fist up to rub the gunk out of his eyes, but he felt every muscle in his arm scream in protest. He tried to open his mouth to ask what happened, but his throat was too dry for speech. He felt a goblet pushed into his hand.
"Have some water, sweetie," the woman said, helping Harry to take a large drink of the cool water. The woman then took the goblet from Harry and put his glasses on for him. Harry looked to the woman and his mouth went dry again.
"Ginny?" he asked, confused. She never called him sweetie or honey, nor did she have green eyes. His mind was still foggy, and he couldn't think clearly.
"No Harry, it's Mum," the woman said gently.
"Mum?" Harry asked, bewildered. His mother couldn't be here; it just wasn't possible. But then, here she was, sitting on his bed. How could that be?
"That's right. You had a nasty fall. We've been worried sick about you," she said quietly. Harry saw tears fill her eyes as she looked at Harry, obviously relieved that he was alive.
Harry tore his eyes away from his mother and looked around the room. Albus Dumbledore was standing to the back. His face had more lines on it than Harry remembered – he looked tired. Harry then looked at the three men standing behind Lily. He recognized one as Remus, and was pleased to see that he looked the same as always. Remus offered Harry a weak smile; he had obviously been very worried too. Harry then looked at Sirius. Sirius smiled roguishly and gave the boy a wink. Harry stared at his godfather. He was supposed to be dead, too. Harry stared at Sirius for a minute, trying to imagine Sirius as being alive again. Harry was almost reluctant to look at the third man. He knew who it was, yet he still wasn't sure if he wanted to see a face remarkably similar to his own. Harry looked at the third man, his father.
"Dad," he whispered, as if telling himself that he was looking at his father, and not a mirror. James smiled widely.
"That's my boy," James said proudly.
"Knew you'd come through," Sirius said confidently, though Harry could tell he had been just as worried about Harry as the others.
"Where am I?" Harry asked, looking around the room again. He recognized it as the hospital wing at Hogwarts, but he wanted to hear that from the three people in this room that were supposed to be dead, if only to hear them talk and prove their existence.
"Hogwarts. Don't you remember anything?" his mum asked sadly. Harry thought he did remember everything. He and his friends had been off finding horcruxes, and they were suddenly ambushed. Harry remembered being hit with a spell and blacking out. But then, he also remembered his parents' dying moments and watching Sirius through the veil.
Harry shook his head mutely.
"It was the last game of the Quidditch season. You had just made a spectacular catch, hanging off of your broom, speeding through the air and thereby winning the game, and one of the beaters from the other team hit a bludger toward you and knocked your hold off of the broom. You fell nearly fifty feet," James said gravely, looking to Albus for a quick confirmation. Dumbledore smiled sadly and nodded his head.
"It's a miracle you didn't die," Remus said quietly.
"I tried to slow your descent, but there were people in the way until it was too late," Dumbledore said sadly, as though he blamed himself for Harry's fall.
"How long have I been out?" Harry asked, a little frightened of the answer.
"Three months," Sirius said, all traces of his jovial attitude gone. "The three longest months of my life," he added with a sigh, glad it was over.
"We were starting to think you weren't going to wake up," James told his son, clapping him on the shoulder. Harry winced as a pain shot out from where James' hand had made contact with his shoulder. James looked mortified. "Sorry!" he said. "Are you okay?" he asked, concerned.
Harry smiled. "It's okay; I'm not made of parchment. But how about some pain relieving potion?" he suggested.
"I'll go fetch Madam Pomfrey. I suggest you see just how much he remembers from before his fall," Dumbledore said as he let himself out of the curtained cubicle.
"What's your name?" James began.
"Harry James Potter." Harry looked around the room and Remus gave him a small smile, knowing that even if Harry knew his own name, it didn't say anything for the rest of his memory.
"And who are the people standing around you?"
"James Potter, my dad, Lily Potter, my mum, Sirius Black, my godfather, and Remus Lupin," Harry said, indicating each person in turn. Everyone seemed to sigh in relief as though they were worried he'd forgotten who they were.
Harry reached up to his forehead to try and rub away the throbbing headache that was encroaching. He rubbed along the familiar scar, hoping that, as always, it was his scar that was bothering him and that it would go away shortly. He looked at his dad, waiting for the next question when he suddenly realized he had one of his own.
"How did I get this?" Harry asked, pointing at his lightning bolt-shaped scar.
"You don't remember?" whispered Lily. Harry shook his head. Lily took a shuddering breath before speaking. "When you were a year old, we invited my sister and her son over to celebrate her birthday. Her husband was out of town on business, so we decided to put our issues behind us for one night and have dinner together. We promised Petunia that there would be no magic. It was the only way to get her to come over, so we hid our wands in our bedroom. Then, while your dad and I were in the kitchen, cutting the cake, he came. Dudley was upstairs taking a nap, and it was only you and Petunia in the living room. He came in and told Petunia to step aside so that he could kill you." Lily stopped for a second to take a deep breath before continuing. Her hands were shaking a little bit and her eyes were red as she began to cry. James put a hand on each of her shoulders and gave her a slight squeeze.
"Petunia told him he couldn't kill a little baby. It wasn't right. He told her he didn't want to waste his time killing a...a...a mudblood. Petunia grabbed you and hid you from him. He told her to get out of the way one more time. When she didn't, he killed her. But then, when he tried to kill you, he couldn't. James and I ran into the room after hearing Petunia's scream telling him to go away. We heard him laugh and kill her, but by the time we ran from the kitchen to the living room, she was d-dead. You were sitting on the floor crying. You had that nasty scar on your forehead, and it was bleeding all over the place. The living room was a disaster, but Voldemort was nowhere to be found." Lily buried her face in her hands and starting shaking with sobs.
"Vernon never forgave us for her death. He thinks it was our fault. And it partially was," James said sadly.
Harry closed his eyes, thinking. His aunt would never give her life to try and save him. She would have used Harry as a shield! But all the same, Harry had a moment of silence in honor of the aunt he had thought he hated. Harry wasn't sure how he never knew that his aunt died protecting him and not his mother, and why he thought he had grown up with the Dursleys but then again, he didn't really care either. He must have dreamt it while he was in his coma. All that mattered was how life was now.
Or maybe, Harry thought as he remembered the horcrux ambush, the spell had sent him to an alternate universe. Or maybe, he really did have a wild-advnture dream after falling from his broom. Harry looked around at the adults around him, and Harry decided he really didn't care. This felt right.
At that moment, Madam Pomfrey came bustling in with a tray of potions. "It's good to see you awake, dearie," she said kindly. "Now, drink these potions. This one is for the pain. This one will help your muscles regain their strength more quickly. And you may take this one later tonight when you're home. It's a dreamless sleep potion." Harry quickly drank down the first two potions, and James took hold of the third, while keeping an arm around his wife. "Now, you've been laying down for an awfully long time. When you first came in here, you were an absolute mess, broken bones, cuts and scrapes, a few gashes, though those have been healed, you will still need to be careful, your body had started to waste away while you were in your coma. Take it slowly, but keep moving and try to rebuild your muscles," the nurse instructed, looking at Harry and his parents pointedly. She gave Lily a piece of parchment with what Harry assumed were the written equivalents to the instructions she gave before leaving the five adults and Harry alone.
"School officially starts in a week, but given the circumstances, you will not be returning for at minimum a month. Madam Pomfrey will visit you once a week and tell you when you may return to school. Until you do, your parents, Sirius and Remus will be home schooling you. I suggest you keep up with your studies. Good luck, Harry," Dumbledore said. He then nodded his head in acknowledgement to the other four adults and smiled at Harry before leaving them. Harry watched the wizened wizard leave, his mind buzzing with all the instructions he had just been given.
"Ready to go home?" Lily offered.
Harry looked at his mother and grinned widely. "Am I ever!" he said happily. He swung his legs over the bed and stood up. Immediately, he wished he hadn't. The pain was gone, but the muscles wouldn't support him. He threatened to black out as his mind swam and his legs buckled underneath him. Sirius rushed forward and caught Harry.
"Perhaps we'll carry you home, eh?" Sirius offered with a smile. Harry returned the smile gratefully and allowed his godfather to pick him up. Harry felt a little ashamed being carried like a little kid, but his legs couldn't hold his weight, so he swallowed his pride and looked forward to going home. One by one, Remus, Sirius, James, and Lily flooed to Godric's Hollow. Harry felt ill as he spun around in the fireplace. He quickly closed his eyes and leaned into his godfather. Luckily, Sirius was better at flooing than he was, and stepped out of the fireplace neatly, not the least bit unsteady.
Harry looked around him in wonder as his eyes drank in the sight of Godric's Hollow, his home.