Journey back to the past and his prime CH.5

Harry winced as he heard Emmeline let out a pained gasp when they landed in front of her house.

He looked down at her and his brows creased in worry as he noticed her pale face and the unsteady look in her eyes. He gazed down at her more carefully and saw the way she was clutching her side, grimacing in pain.

Harry couldn't help but wince in sympathy. He had tried to be as gentle as possible while apparating them to their destination, but clearly, the suffocating whirl of their transportation method had been painful for her broken ribs.

Unfortunately, that was just the way things worked with apparation. You could try to be as gentle as possible while travelling by the magical method, but there was still an element of discomfort attached to it. Add that to a couple of broken ribs, and apparition became that much more painful for a person's body.

"Hey, are you alright? You don't look so good," Harry asked her in concern as he placed his arm around her shoulder and helped her towards the front door of the house.

"Don't worry about it," Emmeline replied, gritting her teeth in pain. "It's just a couple of broken ribs. Nothing to make a fuss about. Could've been so much worse if you hadn't been there," she said gratefully before adding. "Although I think I might need some Skele-Gro to feel better," she said, then drew her wand from her sleeve and tapped it against the front door lock, unlocking it while also adding Harry to the wards around her house.

Harry nodded in return. "Alright. We'll get you that in a second. Hold on," he said and turned the door handle. He led Emmeline inside the building with care.

As the lights turned on automatically, Harry noted that it was a small two-bedroom house with a sitting room and kitchen on the first floor, while the bedrooms were situated on the second storey. Following Emmeline's instructions, Harry took her up the stairs to the first bedroom on the right. After settling her on her bed under some covers to get her comfortable, he went to the adjoining bathroom and brought her a bottle of Skele-Gro from the medicine cabinet.

"Here we go," said Harry as he conjured a glass and poured the potion into it.

"Ugh, this thing always tastes like shit." Emmeline shuddered and made a face as he handed her the tonic, and she downed half a glass of the potion in one go.

Harry watched carefully as she drank. After finishing the potion, her pale face regained a bit of color. In front of his eyes, her tense body relaxed, and her eyes closed in sleep.

Once he was sure she'd passed out, Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair, tugging back the hood of his robes.

"Merlin, I nearly botched the whole thing up," he muttered, his jaw tightening. "I need to do better from now on," he said to himself with determination as he looked down at the wand in his hand.

Three days later:

Emmeline Vance spent the next day and a half in bed, recuperating from her injuries. She drifted off to sleep as the Skele-Gro worked its magic and healed her broken ribs and other injuries. The potion kept her asleep most of the time so that the bones inside her body could heal without any disturbance from her.

After dropping Emmeline back at her house, Harry assigned Dobby to keep watch over her and inform him when she was well enough to talk with him. He also appointed the House elf to administer further potions to the injured witch - a job that he took to with great enthusiasm.

In the meantime, Harry returned to Number 4 Privet Drive to make sure the blood wards on the building kept recharging and didn't fade away due to his prolonged absence from the place. Harry had no intention of giving up that advantage over Voldemort any time soon. He could handle living with the Dursleys for a month or more, if it meant he had a safe place where the Dark lord and his Death Eaters couldn't touch him.

So, Harry resumed what he was doing before he went to save Emmeline from Nott and his subordinates. He continued taking his daily potions on time and followed his workout regimen with due diligence.

In between all that, Harry also used the free time to review the fight he had with the Death Eaters.

Harry had to admit that he had committed a lot of mistakes while handling Nott and his cronies in the dark forest. First of all, he had been much less prepared than he should've been. He had rushed into the fight with bravado, thinking he could handle all of them alone when he should've been sneaky and resourceful while handling his enemies. First things first, he should've used a disillusionment charm to make himself invisible instead of facing his opponents head-on. That was such a huge blunder on his part that Harry still had trouble believing he did it.

Aside from that, Harry also knew now that his spellwork was not as sharp or clean as it was in the future. It was sloppy, with his magic using far too much power to achieve the desired effect that he wanted from a spell.

Not to mention the fact that the fight went on for far too long. It should've been a quick affair, considering Harry had the element of surprise on his side and he was going up against only three enemies. But Harry's low stamina and reduced magical power in his younger body forced him to battle for longer.

Luckily, Harry had the foresight to bring along a couple of flash bombs before going out. Those things had been a huge help in disorienting his enemies at the start of the battle, and also gave him a chance to safely withdraw Emmeline from their clutches.

This gave Harry an idea to maybe prepare more magical devices to help him out in combat in the future.

All in all, Harry knew that he was lucky that he only had to face three Death Eaters that night; otherwise, things could've easily gone against him.

So, in order to fix all of these mistakes, Harry quickly decided that the first thing he needed to do was to add more spell practice to his daily schedule. Training his body to get stronger was fine, but he also needed magical power to go with it. Only then, he realize he would be able to fight successfully against a more powerful opponent or a large number of enemies.

To achieve this, Harry realized he would need a place to practice his magic. If he were at Hogwarts, Harry could have used the Room of Requirement to train in secret. It was the perfect place for a person to hone their skills in magic - providing them with necessary spell books designed to improve their magical skills, not to mention training dummies to practice spells with. But unfortunately, Harry wouldn't be back at the castle for another month yet.

So, Harry realized that he had to come up with another solution to his problem, unless he wanted to delay his magical training for an entire month. In the end, he decided the answer was simple - his bedroom. Harry used the undetectable extension charm to make the small room several times bigger until it was the size of a small football field.

The Dursleys had no clue what was going on. Since their ugly confrontation with Harry a week earlier, his aunt and Uncle had decided to pretend that he wasn't living with them anymore. They had sent Dudley to live with Aunt Marge to keep him safe from their crazy nephew while they ignored his existence in the house completely, treating him as a distant piece of furniture - out of sight, and out of mind.

Harry found out that this suited him the best. No one barged into his room anymore, demanding he make breakfast or do a number of other chores around the house. He was left to his own devices and could do what he wanted inside his room without any fear of repercussions.

So, after turning his bedroom into a big enough space, Harry immediately began using the extended space for his magical practice. He placed a few well-calculated Celtic runes on the corners of the walls of his bedroom to make sure any magical spellfire used in the room could be absorbed harmlessly and didn't damage the room itself.

From then on, it was all wands ablaze. Harry poured himself into magical training with everything he had. He would cast spell after spell from dawn till dusk until his arms were ready to fall off, and there was not even a drop of magical strength left in him.

The first day Harry did it, he ended up getting so tired, he barely managed to crawl into his bed, his magical core screaming in agony from the abuse he had put it through.

When Harry fell into bed that night, he went to sleep expecting that a good night's rest would make him right as rain the next morning. However, the second day, it was somehow even worse. His magical core stretched to its limits the previous day already, protesting every time Harry used a spell.

However, Harry persisted with his efforts. He didn't admit defeat. He knew it was early days in his training, and it would take him a couple of weeks to notice any improvements in his magical stamina and power. So, he simply stuck with it.

Harry trained just as hard on the second and third day. Using spells after spells, ranging from simple charms like 'Accio' or 'Depulso' to ones that were truly explosive in nature. By the time he finished his spell practice on the third night, Harry was so tired that he was about to pass out on his bed. His head had just hit the pillow when Dobby appeared suddenly in the room with a loud crack.

Harry quickly sat up straight as his recently hired house-elf shot him a beaming smile and snapped a sharp salute.

"Harry Potter, sir! Dobby is back with a report, sir," the elf announced in his high-pitched squeaky voice.

Harry let out an internal sigh at Dobby's actions. Apparently, when Harry informed him that they would be working secretly to take down the Dark Lord, the house-elf had decided they were now like secret spies and began to use military greetings with him, urging Harry to respond in the same manner.

So, in order to keep the eccentric elf happy in his service, Harry had no choice but to return the salute from the bed. "What's the report, Dobby?" he asked finally.

"Miss Millie is completely healed, sir, and she told Dobby to tell you that she is ready to talk with you now, sir," Dobby informed him with a cheerful smile.

Harry blinked at that piece of information from his house elf. He had expected Emmeline to wake up by now, the potions having worked their wonders by now, but he wasn't sure if she would want to talk with him. Harry had feared that once adrenaline wore off and her head was clear, she might take issue with him killing two of the Death Eaters. Dumbledore's followers weren't huge on fighting fire with fire, and Harry had feared that Emmeline might turn out to be one as well. That was why he had left Dobby there to take care of her instead of staying there with her himself.

Luckily, it seemed he was wrong.

If nothing else, at least she had the simple curiosity to meet with him.

Harry decided he could work with that.

Now, he could only hope that she wouldn't act all high-and-mighty when they met and try to drag him to Dumbledore to answer for his actions. Because Harry knew he would have to obliviate her in that case.

'If I'm lucky, she might listen to my ideas and would want to follow my lead,' Harry thought to himself as he scratched his chin absentmindedly.

In the end, Harry decided he would accept Emmeline's request, but he wasn't going to meet her tonight. He was too tired right now to deal with anyone at the moment. His body, mind, and magic were all sore after his extensive workout throughout the day. Harry needed a good night's sleep to be able to function at his best, or at least close to it. And he would need that to be able to deal with Emmeline.

So, Harry shook his head as he answered Dobby. "Tell her I'm busy tonight and that I'll meet her tomorrow."

Dobby nodded in return before vanishing with a loud crack.

Once more alone in his bedroom, Harry lay back down on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

As he rested, Harry's mind ran through all the scenarios that he might have to deal with Emmeline the next morning. He had hope that the older witch would be amenable to his ideas because if she decided to join him, she could end up being a crucial cog in his plans for the future.

Harry sighed, turning onto his side. He went through everything he'd planned so far.

Harry knew his fame was at an all-time high right now. After proving that he was right about Voldemort's return, Harry's status in the eyes of the wizarding world was on the rise once again. No one was ridiculing his name anymore, as they had been doing for the past year. Now, he was a shining beacon of truth according to the newspapers out there. A truly brave young man who didn't succumb to the pressure from the corrupt Fudge administration and tried to bring truth to the light.

Harry needed to utilise this fame to the fullest extent. He needed to be at the front and centre in the ministry's efforts to fight the Dark Lord. He would be their poster child this time, the hero that would save their world from the scary monster. Doing otherwise would mean being pushed into a corner, fading further and further into obscurity, until no one even remembered he existed.

Harry shuddered. He refused to let that happen this time.

There was a time and place earlier in his life when he wanted to be an unknown person. When he was naive enough to wish to be a faceless man in the crowd, nothing special compared to anyone else. But that was before the Ministry had taken away his accomplishments during the war, twisted the narrative around Voldemort's defeat until he was no more than a lucky person whose opponent managed to kill themselves with their own spell.

Harry's blood still boiled sometimes when he thought about all the injustices that had been done to him after the war.

The Ministry had fooled the masses; the wizarding people were easy to influence, as always. They'd spread misinformation to the general populace, taking the credit for defeating Voldemort and capturing his army after the war. At the same time, the goblins had taken away Harry's wealth as compensation for all the damage he'd caused to the bank during his break-in and subsequent escape with the dragon.

In the end, Harry was left with just a crappy desk job and a run-down house that was falling to pieces around him.

He had no money, and no girl wanted to date him.

Harry was left powerless, his wings clipped before he could soar high into the sky. All because the old families in the Wizengamot didn't want him to become another powerful and influential wizard like Dumbledore. They feared his power and what he might do to them in the future.

Well, Harry wasn't about to let any of that happen this time. This time, he would make sure he got what he deserved - all the money, fame, and beautiful women out there. He wouldn't end up being a loser again.

Harry decided he would be at the forefront of the war from the start, so that there would be no doubt in anyone's mind that he was the real hero of the story.

His decision made, Harry nodded to himself firmly.

Soon, the Daily Prophet would report the news about there being a prophecy in the Department of Mysteries. They would say that it was regarding him and the Dark Lord. It would all be a speculation, of course, as the contents of the prophecy were destroyed in the battle at the Ministry last month. But it wouldn't take much for the ordinary witches and wizards out there to connect the dots and realise what it was about. They would put their hopes and dreams on Harry, realising he was fated to bring an end to Lord Voldemort.

When asked about it, Harry decided he would fan the flames on the subject rather than keep mum about it. Professor Dumbledore would obviously be against it, but Harry didn't care what he thought anymore. It was his life, and he was going to live it as he chose.

With that thought running in his mind, Harry slowly drifted off to sleep, already looking forward to the next day and what it would bring.