Chapter 2 - Resurrection

Present day - 5 years after the plane crash

Harry limped through the glowing, ancient archway, bracing his bloody hand against the cool stone. His blood marred the series of intricately engraved runes that surrounded the gateway. The chiseled grooves dug sharply into his palm as he pulled himself though, trying to keep his weight off of his injured leg. Behind him, confined within the encompassing stone, was a swirling maelstrom of magic.

Leaning upon the outside of the archway he pulled his wand out from the red, tattered scarf that was tied to his wrist. The wand was crude. It was made from a dark, inflexible wood that had been roughly whittled down to seven inches. Crude as it was, the wand had become an invaluable ally to Harry, and was counted as one of his most precious possessions. Harry couldn't imagine parting with the wand, especially after the extreme difficulty he underwent procuring the core for it.

"Accio key stone." Harry panted, strained with effort. His magical reserves were almost depleted and the relatively simple spell took a lot out of him to preform.

An azure, fist-sized stone flew through the gate, deftly caught by Harrys quick hand. As soon as the stone passed through the archway the swirling magic ceased, closing the portal. A shimmering, translucent veil filled in its wake, rippling on some unseen breeze. It's job done, Harry tucked his wand back under the scarf.

Harry regarded the cool, blue stone clutched between his fingers. The stone was smooth like glass and held a large rune in its centre with many smaller runes encircling it in concentric circles. The runes glowed faintly in the rooms dimmed lighting.

Harry lifted the sleeve of his right arm. After murmuring a quick incantation, a series of tattooed glyphs appeared imbedded in his skin. Harry pressed the key stone against one of the glyphs on inside of his forearm, causing it to vanish into a magical pocket space. The pocket space was a device of Harrys own creation and had proved incredibly useful in the past. It acted as a breach into an artificially created dimension, where Harry could store and retrieve valued items. The method whilst being very secure, was restricted by certain constraints though. There was a limit to what Harry could hold in the space, and the larger the item he wished stored, the larger the drain on his magic. After muttering another incantation the glyphs disappeared.

Harrys back slid down the archway until he rested on the floor. The relief of sitting was immeasurable. Clear of distraction, his mind began to replay flashes of the events leading up to his journey through the portal. His fists clenched in front of his face and he let out an anguished cry. Salty tears ran down his face, stinging as they met the numerous scrapes and cuts they found along the way. Harry turned his empty fist to the ground, punching the rough stone repeatedly until his knuckles bleed.

It had been years since Harry had really cried. It reminded him of the scared little boy he once was when he first was marooned on that god-forsaken island. Terrified, and alone. Harry had thought hardly of that little boy existed within himself anymore. Hard lessons had caused Harry to become hard in kind. Survival was not gifted towards those who embraced weakness.

'Get up Harry. Use the pain. Let its fire temper you strong and its sting keep you focused.' Harry felt the words ring through his head. The echo of a memory long since past. The voice of his mentor rang true. His face twisted at the irony. Determination surged through him lending him strength. Using a torn strip of his sleeve Harry bound his leg which was bleeding profusely, pooling on the ground below. He knew enough healing spells to stem the bleeding but lacked the energy needed to preform them. With a grunt of exertion Harry crawled to his feet, a steely glint in his eye. He spat a wad of blood onto the floor and examined his surroundings.

Harry knew that the archway was kept somewhere within the ministry of magic but he had no idea where or what the layout of the building was like. The archway, that he was standing next to, rested upon a dais in the centre of a large room. Many stone tiers led upwards and Harry could make out a door above, illuminated by a flamed torch that was mounted next to it.

Slowly he made his way to the door. Pushing it firmly he exited the room.

Harry emerged into a circular room. The marble floor was so polished that it looked like standing water. The rooms most striking feature was the twelve handle-less red doors that ran around its edge.

"Well now what do I do?" Harry spoke aloud, as if some entity would give him the answer he sought.

With no information by which to go on, Harry chose a door at random. Inside was a long rectangular room filled with beautiful, dancing lights. Gleaming clocks and all manner of time-related devices filled the room. 'Obviously not an exit' Harry thought and turned to leave before something caught his eye.

A collection of hour glasses of various sizes rested inside a large glass-fronted case against the wall. On a whim Harry reached in and grabbed one by its gold chain and held it up to the light. The hour glass was set into a small disc, surrounded by pivoting circles. A small inscription ran around its edge.

'I mark the hours, every one, Nor have I yet outrun the Sun. My use and value, unto you, Are gauged by what you have to do.'

Harry had no time for puzzles but decided to take the artifact with him, storing it within his magical pocket space. The drain on his magic was relatively small but Harry knew his magical reserves were mere fumes now.

As he re-entered the circular room the wall began to shift, causing a blur between the black of the marble and the crimson of the doors.

"Well Fu-" Harrys exasperated cursing was interrupted as the wall settled with a clunk.

On instinct Harry reopened the door he had just come through. Where there was once a rectangular room filled with clocks, was now a dark room, filled with many planets floating in mid air.

Harry contemplated this new development. It appeared that every time he exited a door the doors would then move about the room. Theoretically, unless he chose the right door, he could be trapped inside forever.

Pulling a small dagger from his belt, Harry carved a large cross into the wooden door and stepped back. The walls once again rushed around him before settling back into place. Harry smirked as he saw the familiar cross now situated on a door behind him. He repeated this method of opening doors and marking them seven times before he found what looked like an exit.

The long, marble corridor from which the door led was empty and Harry cautiously made his way along it, keeping his back to the wall at all times. Sporadically spaced torchlights illuminated the way. A loud 'ding' echoed down the hall, causing Harry to jump behind a stone pillar. At the end of the corridor a metal partition retracted revealing the inside of an elevator. Two wizards dressed in full black robes exited.

"Did you here Dumbledore has requested another time-turner for that muggleborn girl who destroyed her one last year?" The man on the left spoke, clearly amused.

"HA" The other man bellowed. "Croaker is still riding my ass for sending out the first one. I swear Dumbledore befuddled me into lending it out in the first place. Honestly giving that kind of power a child."

"I did get to view her grades. The girl's a genius. Might end up working with us one day eh Bode? The glamorous life of an unspeakable." They both erupted into laughter as they made their way past Harrys hiding place.

Harry let out a sigh as the two wizards passed from view. Scrambling over to the elevator he limped inside, closing the metal partition behind him. Inside the door was nine buttons, each one corresponding to a floor of the building. The lowest button, number nine, Department of mysteries/Wizengamot Courtrooms, was glowing. By reading each numbers description he found out that he was currently on an underground floor. The floor above, the atrium, was the ground floor and the floors above that, ending in one, lead to various magical departments. The numbering system was odd but Harry knew not to apply logic to wizarding behaviour.

Harry pressed the button for eight, hoping that he had arrived during an off peak time. It wasn't. As the elevator met its destination it revealed an atrium full of wizards. Harry looked down at his ragged appearance and winced. He was hardly what one would call inconspicuous. His ashen, grey coat was singed and tattered, and his pant leg was stained with the blood that was trickling down his leg. Blood that devoid of his body, was starting to make him very dizzy.

Without pause Harry slipped into the mob of people. He knew that concealment in plain sight wasn't just about your camouflage but your bearing as well. He hid his limp as best he could and shuffled hurriedly between the throngs of people. He kept his chin up high and made sure not to make eye contact with anyone as they went about their daily business. That was the trick Harry had found in infiltrating, appearing as though you had every purpose of being there.

The ruse worked in perhaps longer than it should have Harry thought in retrospect. All it took was a girl with bubblegum pink hair to crash into his side and the spell was broken.

"Oh my god, I'm so clumsy. Sorry mist-" A girl with a heart shaped face, and dark sparkling eyes started before looking upon who she had tripped into.

She gasped and backed away causing other people to turn and take notice. A ring of people formed around the two, curious at the disturbance A few hands made for their wands triggering Harrys flight mode. Panicked, He pushed past a pair of onlookers causing them to hit the ground. He broke through before being halted by a large fountain set in the middle of the atrium.

A group of golden statues, larger than life-size, stood in the middle of a circular pool. A proud centaur, a goblin, a small elf creature and finally something that made his blood run cold. A witch. A witch whose face he had looked upon a thousand times, stored safe inside a locket that currently resided under his shirt.

"Mom?" He whispered.

Her wand was raised above her head in a protective fashion, water spurting from its tip. She looked down fondly at the baby currently residing in the crook of her other arm. A baby with an all to familiar lightning shaped scar. Under the statue was a plaque.

Harry, James Potter Lest we forget.

Harrys breathing became erratic. He turned to the dozens of onlookers surrounding him. A few wizards in ministry uniforms had their wands pointed at him. Their lips were moving but Harry couldn't make out what they were saying.

The fatigue and blood loss finally caught up to Harry and he struggled to stay on his feet. Darkness encroached on the edges of his sight and he tried to blink away the harsh, tunneling light.

He felt a sense of weightlessness as his diminished view changed from that of the crowd to the ceiling. He felt the hardwood floor on his back and tried to register his new orientation. Flashes of the girl with bubblegum pink hair crouched over top of him passed his vision before it all went black.


"It's a miracle he is even alive. His body is twenty percent scar tissue and his burns are consistent with those who've suffered dragon fire!" A female voice roused Harry from his subconscious.

Harry did his best to lay still in what was the most comfortable thing he had ever rested in. He kept his breathing regular trying to figure out where exactly he was and with whom.

"What is his current mental state?" A voice questioned in a grandfatherly like tone.

"Well he hasn't been conscious since he's been moved here so we haven't been able to talk to him. He suffered complete magical exhaustion. The aurors said he seemed crazed at the ministry though. Like a wild animal."

"He was most likely just frightened-" The old man paused. "Ah I do believe our young charge is among the world of the living."

Harry groaned and rubbed his eyes, acting like he had just awoke. He appeared to be in some kind of wizarding hospital. Next to his bed was an old wizard dressed in midnight blue robes, staring at him through half-moon spectacles. He had a full, long grey beard that had been tied off near the end.

The witch to his right wore pure white robes with red trimming. She had a kind face framed by wavy, auburn hair. In her hand she clutched a clipboard.

"Harry I am Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry and this is Healer Nora. Do you know where we are?"

Harry shook his head.

"This is Saint Mungos. A wizarding Hospital. Now do you know about magic?"

Harry slowly nodded.

"Good. Now there has been a lot of people worried about you. Can you tell us where you've been all these years?"

Harry hesitated weighing what to tell the old man.

"I was traveling to japan with my relatives. My uncle, Vernon, had just gotten a new job over there. During the flight a dragon attacked our plane and it crashed into the ocean." Harry spoke devoid of emotion.

"Did anyone besides you make it from the crash?" Albus asked.

"There was one. Rebecca. But she was hurt and-." Harrys eyes lowered. "Our life-raft washed up on an island and that's pretty much it." Harry said not wanting to divulge further.

"Oh you poor thing." Healer Nora brimmed with tears, holding his arm in a motherly fashion.

Harrys hand jumped to his chest where a very familiar weight was missing.

"My locket, where is it!" Harry demanded.

"Your wand and all your possessions are in the cabinet next to the bed." Nora replied. "Though your clothes were irreparable I'm afraid. Too much lingering magic."

Harry un-tensed his body, relieved.

"In the ministry Harry, did you come in through the ninth floor?" Harry paused before nodding, causing Albus to look like he had just confirmed something in his head.

"There was a statue, at the ministry, of me and my mother. Why?" Harry questioned.

Dumbledore gave him a compassionate look.

"When you were just a baby Harry, a Dark lord who we called Voldemort," Nora shuddered, "attacked your family killing both of your parents. When he turned his wand upon you however his curse backfired, destroying himself instead. No one has ever survived a killing curse Harry, not one, save for you. Nobody knows if Voldemort truly died that night. I myself think that he still lingers, somewhere in the in-between. That statue was erected in honor of you and your mothers sacrifice after you went missing."

Harry processed the information in silence. Some of which was new to him, some of which had been revealed to him before.

"Yeah, you even had a holiday created commemorating your memory. I don't know quite how that works now that you're back from the dead." Healer Nora added.

"Well I think that's enough for today Harry. You just continue to rest." Dumbledore said kindly. "I'll come check up on you again and we can have another talk if your feeling up to it." Dumbledore tipped his hat and left the room.


The next few weeks were uneventful for Harry. He had been cleared for walking around the hospital, but he still required a cane. Healer Nora said that he would only need it until they could regrow the muscle in his leg he had lost. Harry wasn't that bothered by it though.

Dumbledore had kept his word and regularly checked up on Harry. Harry didn't reveal much more of his time on the island in their conversations but Albus seemed content. He did most of the talking when he visited and helped fill Harry in on the comings and goings of the wizarding world.

Harry wandered aimlessly throughout the wards trying to flee the memories that seemed to be haunting him in his room. The physicality of the act and the newness of the hospital proved distracting enough.

He caught his reflection in a passing mirror. He still was surprised at the stranger staring back at him. An island provided few surfaces for reflection and Harry was unfamiliar with his own face. He still had the messy mop of black hair he did when he was ten but now it was slightly longer and swept back behind his ears. His face was more square, losing some of the puppy fat he had when he was younger. His emerald eyes were striking, no longer hidden behind round, wire framed glasses that he no longer needed. His body was perhaps the most significant change. He no longer had a malnourished, small frame. He stood tall, his body conditioned with compact, wiry muscle.

He continued down the hallway, careful not to run into any reporters. They had hounded him daily before being forcefully banned from the hospital grounds by the staff. Still the occasional reporter managed to sneak through now and again. He self consciously ran his hand through his hair making sure his defining scar was covered.

As he rounded a corner he spotted a girl, that looked to be around his age, standing in front of one of the hospitals maps with a puzzled look on her face. Harrys curiosity peaked and he walked towards her. She was beautiful Harry thought. Chocolate brown hair fell down to her shoulders, tied back in a functional ponytail. Swept bangs were parted revealing her pale green eyes underneath. She wore a simple blouse, paired with jeans, that revealed the shape of the athletic figure underneath.

"Hey, do you need help with anything?" Harry asked, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

The beautiful girl, just shorter than he was, turned to face him. She looked down at his cane and then followed it up his body.

"Er yeah. I'm here looking for my sister, Astoria. She has been having a lot of bouts of accidental magic lately and the healers are keeping her under observation."

"Well you're probably not going to find her on this floor. This is serious magical maladies wing. You want the third floor, there." Harry pointed out on the map. "Accidental magic and splinching reversal. I can take you there if you like?"

"Oh, I wouldn't want to bother you." The girl responded. Seemingly a bit nervous herself.

'So this is what it's like to be an awkward teenager' Harry thought.

"It's no problem. I get pretty bored here anyway. Here it's this way." Harry said, leading them towards a flight of stairs.

"So what are you in here for? If you don't mind me asking." The girl spoke after moments of silence.

"Nothing much. Just got into a bit of a tussle with a dragon." Harry said deadpan.

The girl let out a melodic laugh to which Harry responded with a knowing smirk.

"Suuure you did." She said, laced with sarcasm. "Do you go to a wizarding school? I'm just about to start my fourth year at Hogwarts myself."

"No. I'm kind schools at the moment." Harry replied.

"If you're thinking of applying at Hogwarts you should. I'm in Slytherin. We get pretty much shunned by the rest of the houses, but my two best friends, Tracy and Blaise, are with me and they're great."

"Maybe-" Harry was interrupted as a small brown blur attached itself around the girl.

"DAPHY!" Astoria squeaked, clutching her big sisters legs.

Harrys walking partner blushed crimson as the small girl hugged her.

"Gerroff me you little monster." The girl said in a playful tone, rubbing her sisters brown hair.

"Well it looks like my work is done. I'll leave you gals to it then." Harry said turning to leave.

"Hey." The girl called. "Daphne."

"Huh?" emitted Harry confusedly.

"My name. It's Daphne Greengrass."

"Oh yeah, right. Harry, Harry Potter."

Harry turned leaving two very opened mouthed witches.

Authors note: From this chapter onwards the story will change intermittently between the present day and Harrys time on the island. If something is not fully explained it is most likely intentional and will be covered in later chapters so please keep that in mind. I hope you are enjoying the story so far. Please R&R :)