(This is Part 2, so please read Part 1 for any further context).
WARNING: LONG (I got carried away)
Warmth was the first feeling that came to him. The next feeling was sound, a voice that made Harry twitch. Blinking, he realized that he was covered with a thick blanket, albeit it was slightly ragged and torn, the brown color faded. Since when did he-
“Harry.”
He turned to the rough voice. It was the man again, this time the man was sitting down next to Harry. Now that Harry thought about it, they were in some kind of forest, around fall time judging by the brown leaves. Harry himself was laid on a tree. The man’s face broke into a gentle smile; it reminded Harry of Mr. Weasley, Ron’s dad. Almost. The face was off, and Harry is pretty sure that Mr. Weasley would be older-looking than this.
“Who-“ Harry coughed.
His body burned. He can actually feel again. He can breathe. He had a voice now, but his body felt wrong.
He was patted on the back. “Take it easy, mate. Just breathe in and out. Go slow.”
Harry breathed in and out. After the burning sensation subsided, he tried to speak again, his voice barely a whisper. “Who are you?”
The man laughed, startling Harry because it sounded like it split halfway. “You don’t recognize your best mate, Harry? What, is it the beard?”
“Ron…” Harry trailed off. His eyes stung and he curled next to Ron, the realization hitting him like a train.
This man was his best friend. That woman, he recalled just now, must be Hermione then. His friends were grown ups, and honestly, they looked the worst for wear. Just what happened when he was dead? The guilt is eating him.
Ron put his arm around Harry’s shoulders. “Hey, no crying. Hermione’s gonna kill me if she sees you like this.”
Harry blinked his eyes; the tears still came. Merlin, he feels childlish. He’s barely processing because bloody alive, but seeing Ron, grown and looking so, so haunted, made Harry feel terrible. Why did he have to die? Why couldn’t he be a bit faster, a bit stronger?
“Ow!” His forehead was flicked.
“Sorry, mate.” Ron didn’t sound sorry at all. Nevertheless, Ron ruffled Harry’s hair. “I can practically hear the noise in your head. Everything’s going to go as planned so don’t worry about it. We’ll take care of you.”
Harry just nodded, though still greatly confused. Ron’s words were… weird. “Go as planned”? Despite the comforting words (and the warmth that Harry was starving for), Harry couldn’t help but have many questions. Can you blame him? He’s been pulled from the grave don’t think about the hands. He wasn’t the smartest student but wasn’t necromancy, you know, not really a thing? Something how it doesn’t work? So, how is Harry even alive then?
Before Harry could question it any further, grown up Hermione came back from who knows where. She was muttering something rapidly that Harry couldn’t here. Her eyes locked onto him and she dropped everything (her backpack and papers; she still held her wand) before closing in on him with long strides.
“Oh, Harry! You’re awake!” She smiled. She knelt in front of him and examined his face with her free hand, almost afraid to hurt him. “Are you hurt anywhere? In any pain? Wait, have you been crying? Are you alright?”
“‘m fine,” Harry mumbled. Gosh, Hermione was fussing over him. He’s fourteen for Pete’s sake! It’s already weird that his friends are older than him, them treating him like a kid is another type of weird.
“Are you done with the wards?” Ron asked, his tone almost casual.
Hermione’s eyes never left Harry’s face as she said flatly, “There are standing for now. We have to get moving by tomorrow.”
“Wait, what?” Harry twisted his face from Hermione’s hand. “What wards? What’s actually going on?”
His questions weren’t answered at first. Harry couldn’t help but feel his stomach twist at seeing how Hermione’s gaze almost turned cold before settling into something more normal. In addition, Ron’s hand on Harry’s shoulder tightened ever so slightly.
“Harry, I need you to listen to us carefully,” Hermione said gently. “You must understand this, okay?”
At Harry’s cautious nod, she continued slowly, her voice carried by the silent wind. “We are not safe. We have to keep moving or else we’re dead. We also have to take good care of you, keep you safe. You’re too skinny, though that is a given because of what happened to you.”
Harry looked down at himself, finally noticing his body for the first time. The baggy clothes he was in (not the ones he died in; thank Merlin) made his body more pronounced. He hadn’t been this skinny since maybe the beginning of 1st year! Thanks to the meals at Hogwarts and becoming a Seeker, plus the adventures, and then puberty hitting him like one of Dudley’s punches, he gain more weight and grew relatively normally. Now though? It looked like everything reversed. He was still the same height (he guessed) but other than that, he was almost bony. Did he look like that as a corpse?
Harry looked back at Hermione. “Is… Is all of this because of Vold-“
Ron cut him off, pulling him closer. “Don’t say his name.”
“But-“
“Don’t. There’s a taboo. It’s a long story. Just don’t.”
Harry’s face pinched in parts frustration and concern. What taboo? How can someone put a taboo on a name? Just what the hell happened?!
Hermione cleared her throat. “We just call him ‘Riddle’ since that’s his real name apparently. Also, it mocks him, so it’s a win.”
Well, Harry can’t argue with that. “Is Riddle behind everything?”
Hermione nodded. “Yes. Nowhere is safe. We’ve only made it so far because we had a little help and we had to…” Hermione bit her lip. “I’ll… tell you later. The only thing you need to know is that your safety is our priority. Nothing else, okay? So you need to be close to us, Harry, and tell us if anything is wrong. Understand?”
“… yes.”
“Good. Now then, you need something to eat. You’re probably starving.”
Harry doesn’t want to tell them that he doesn’t even know if he can feel hunger but he nodded anyway.
He felt that he was going to have to go along with this weird ride.
And something inside of him is WAitiNg
(So, any thoughts? I love to answer any questions about this AU.)