Somewhere Safe Chapter 2

Harry woke up in the hospital wing of Hogwarts. It was comforting, as much as he hated to admit it. For a moment he wanted to believe everything was fine. He knew it wasn't, but he really wanted to pretend. Madam Pomphrey hurried over to him. She looked the same. There was something missing though. That look she would give him when he eventually found himself in her care. Worry mixed with exasperation. He never told anyone, but he liked to imagine she was his grandmother.

"You're awake." She gave her best calming smile. "I need to ask you some questions to make sure you don't have a concussion."

"Ok." Harry nodded.

"Who is the headmaster?" Madam Pomphrey asked.

"Albus Dumbledore." Harry answered.

"What is the date?" She asked.

"October thirty-first, unless it's passed midnight now." Harry replied.

"And your name?" She asked.

"Harry Potter." He nodded.

"Alright, Harry." Her eyes didn't have any recognition in in them. "What year are you in?"

"Fourth year." He continued. It hurt how she looked at him. He gathered his courage, trying to ignore ache in his heart. "You don't know me, do you?"

"I'd say that's a good thing." Madam Pomphrey chuckled. "I only get to know the students who get themselves hurt."

"Where am I?" Harry asked.

"I'm supposed to ask you that." She smiled warmly at him.

"I know I'm in Hogwarts." Harry shook his head. "But this is all wrong."

"What do you mean?" Madam Pomphrey asked, her smile had vanished.

"You once told me that I've been in here so often I should have a bed reserved." Harry pushed himself into a sitting position. "Dumbledore doesn't look right, no one knows who I am, and Snape is missing, which I'm fine with, but still."

"Who is Snape?" She asked.

"Severus Snape." Harry sighed. "He 'teaches' potions."

"Hm." Madam Pomphrey studied him for a moment. "How does Dumbledore look wrong?"

"How he's dressed." Harry shrugged. "His beard too. He's not wearing his hat either. I don't think I've ever seen him without it."

"What does he usually look like?" She continued.

"Old. Grandfatherly." Harry chuckled. "Long white beard." He motioned to the middle of his chest. "Robes, usually weird looking ones, and a big hat. Like how a muggle would describe a wizard if asked."

"One last question." Madam Pomphrey placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "What are your parents' names?"

"Lily and James Potter." He replied.

"That will be all, Poppy." Dumbledore cleared his throat.

Dumbledore, but not the one he knew, stepped into view. His hair still had a bit of color to it, the white hair outnumbered the remaining copper, but it was there. It was undoubtedly Dumbledore. He had the same face, the posture, walk, and the same voice.

"Mister Potter." Dumbledore came to a stop at the edge of the hospital bed. "You are a mystery."

"I knew you were going to say something like that." Harry groaned.

"Lily and James Potter have two sons, Charles and Gerald." Dumbledore spoke steadily, but gently. "They are set to receive their letters next year."

Harry leaned back and closed his eyes. "They're alive?"

"Yes." Dumbledore sounded surprised. "Why wouldn't they be?"

"The war with Voldermort?" Harry kept his eyes closed.

"Who?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry opened his eyes. He studied this new Dumbledore intently. The man looked genuinely confused.

"You've never heard of Voldermort?" Harry asked. "Dark Wizard, leader of the Death Eaters."

"No." Dumbledore shook his head. "It sounds like I'm lucky to not."

"What about Tom Riddle?" Harry asked.

"Pardon?" Dumbledore flinched.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle." Harry said clearly. "Do you know him?"

"Yes." Dumbledore nodded. "Professor Riddle has taught Defense Against the Dark Arts for nearly twenty years now. Why is that important?"

"No reason." Harry shook his head.

He could feel a bubble of mad laughter trying to escape. This made no sense.

"Can you tell me what brought you here?" Dumbledore asked.

"No." Harry shrugged.

The laughter escaped. He couldn't hold it in. Harry laughed until his sides hurt. He laughed until he had trails of tears down his cheek. It made no sense. This was madness.

"Drink this." Madam Pomphrey ordered.

Harry took whatever she was holding and knocked it back. The taste was awful, but it chased the laughter away.

"Better?" She asked.

"Yes, thank you." His voice came out steady if a bit flat.

"It happens." Madam Pomphrey patted his shoulder.

"Can you walk me through the last couple of hours before you found yourself here?" Dumbledore asked. "Maybe there is a clue."

"I was taking a walk to clear my head." Harry said flatly. "I found myself on the seventh floor at a dead end. There was nowhere to go, so I started pacing. A door appeared. It was not there when I first arrived. The Mirror of Erised was inside."

"The Mirror of Erised?" Dumbledore asked. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." Harry nodded. "It was the same as the one from first year. Only the glass was missing. I walked through it. The mirror vanished. After that Filch found me."

"You stepped through the mirror." Dumbledore repeated. "This room on the seventh floor, was there anything else you remember about it?"

"It was just there." Harry shrugged. "It was an empty classroom with the mirror in it."

"How do you know it was the Mirror of Erised?" Dumbledore asked.

"Dumbledore, you I guess, brought it to Hogwarts during my first year." Harry explained. "He, you, whatever, used it to hide the Philosophers Stone."

"Why would I do that?" Dumbledore asked.

"Voldermort was trying to steal it to regain physical form." Harry stated. "He was able to break into the vault holding it in Gringotts."

"This Voldermort fellow seems like trouble." Dumbledore said.

"He killed my parents." Harry added.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Thank you, Harry." Dumbledore patted him on the shoulder. "Tomorrow, if you're feeling up for it, I'd like to take you to Gringotts. We can have you take an Inheritance Test and see if there are any potions or compulsions that need to be removed."

"That's fine." Harry settled into bed. "I have a question."

"Go ahead." Dumbledore nodded.

"Have the champions for the Tri-Wizard Tournament been chosen?" Harry asked.

"The…" Dumbledore sighed. "There hasn't been a tournament in fifty years. It was deemed too dangerous."

"Good to know." Harry yawned.

"Did you need dinner?" Dumbledore asked.

"I already ate." Harry muttered before drifting off to sleep.