The sound of chirping birds broke through the fog of Harry's mind. Slowly opening his eyes, momentarily confused when a light grey ceiling greeted his view, before groaning as flashes of several memories from the night before bombarded his head. That and the pain his body was slowly becoming aware of. He felt like he had been run over by the Hogwarts express then put up as a punching bag for the Womping Willow. Not the best feeling to wake up to.
His death and his talk with a certain immortal being, as well as his other memories from before he was brought whatever Death had thrown him, were all very clear in his mind. It's his memories from the night before that were blurry, that is if a night had actually passed since he fell asleep, because he was not sure how long he had been out.
What he did remember was being in the presence of three people, two men and a woman, and that he tried to escape before Death told him to chill and let them treat him. He would like to say that he may have imagined those words but no, those were the cloaked figure's words and Harry didn't know what to feel about that. They also mentioned that they would not hurt him, so that was a plus. But inwardly he cursed the entity for not healing his body's wounds before sending him back in order to prevent all this ordeal. Maybe they were not good with healing magic? Did they even know healing magic to begin with?
Harry's train of thoughts were abruptly put to a stop when he glanced down to his bound arm, that was now in a cast. That was not how his arm looked before coming here. He immediately jumped into a sitting position, regretting his hastiness a moment later as a flare of pain stole his breath.
Taking a few moments to gain back the breath lost; he took the blanket off him and began to take in the appearance of his body – his tiny body. Because of his living situation, Harry had never been a tall guy and he had come to terms with that, but he had gained a few inches and a bit of muscle by the time he had turned seventeen.
Too bad the room didn't seem to have a mirror on site and he was not about to make his body move looking for one. He may be used to feeling pain and may have a, kind of, high pain tolerance, but that did not mean he liked feeling it. He was not a masochist.
If he had to guess, by the look of his small hands, short legs and scrawny arms, he's wager that he looked like his twelve maybe thirteen-year-old self. Had Death de-aged him? At this point Harry was sure that it was a possibility and he didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry. What he did know was that a certain immortal was kind of bound to him and should be able to answer some questions.
"DEATH!" he called, surprised by his voice, as it sounded like it belonged to a kid not to the seventeen-year-old man he was. Not a second later the very being he wanted to speak with made an appearance in the middle of the room a few feet in front of the bed Harry was currently in, without his scythe. The summoned entity took a look around the room, hooded head nodding in an approving manner before taking his hood of, revealing a pale and handsome face with a pair of obsidian eyes, and turning to face his little master.
"You called?"
The green eyes wizard stared in momentary shock before snapping himself out it and getting to the reason why he called...him he supposed, "Care to explain how did I end up here and why do I look tiny?" because he felt he was on the verge of an emotional breakdown and the only thing keeping him calm was probably the cocktail of potions that he had been given, or the fact that he could not exactly lash out at the Grim reaper without getting hexed for it. Maybe a bit of both.
Death stared at him as if he had just said he was a pink chihuahua, "You got yourself killed and I got called to do damage control" he stated dryly "And because you are a kid again"
Harry gave the ancient man an unimpressed glare, "I was referring as to why am I in a bed, covered in so many bandages that I look like a mummy, potioned to the gills and in a strange room inside a strange house? Also" he added "What do you mean I'm a kid again? Why?!" Harry knew he sounded hysterical, but he believed that it was justified.
"I thought that little master would appreciate having the chance to have a proper education and have a – relatively – normal life" he replied as he approached the window and took a look outside "You have a nice view"
He could care less about having a nice view, right now his mind was running wild "And what about Dumbledore? And don't even think I didn't notice you haven't answered the whole mummy situation" he knew he had been wounded badly in the battle of Hogwarts, he may have had a few broken bones, but not the many that he had heard Healer... Bailey? Brown? he honestly could not remember his last name properly, but whatever his name is, he mentioned a lot of bones that he was sure had not been broken before being brought here.
"You have time to deal with the wizard, besides you wouldn't have been able to stand up to him with the little education you had before" explained the pale man, he stayed quite for a while before opening his mouth again, "I may have forgotten a tiny detail pertaining sending someone to the past"
"Which was?" he asked, ignoring the sting the previous comment caused, because he was right at the end of the day. Harry was sure he would not have been able to last a duel against the old man – let lone defeat him – as he was before.
"It is preferred to travel when you are healthy or have not life-threatening wounds because... the time jump would give you a backlash and, if you are wounded, there's a chance that your wounds may double in quantity"
Harry could only blink in astonishment at the entity, incredulity beginning to set in "You...forgot?!" Now he felt like strangling the man in front of him, immortal or not. How could he forget something so important?! Then again maybe he shouldn't be surprised considering the luck that he tended to carry. It was both a blessing and a curse.
"You would have been fine either way, because you would have ended up here regardless of whether you were completely healthy or not" Death said in a dismissive manner, even though deep down he did feel bad for forgetting and causing his master to deal with more pain than he needed to. He also knew that his dear friend was going to give him an earful when he met him again, as would the Peverell couple when he stopped to talk with them... All of a sudden, a walk through the gardens sounded like a very good idea.
"And where exactly is here?" he asked thorough gritted teeth, before the cloaked being could respond, a knock had them both turning to face the door.
"You'll find out soon enough" Death said, backing away from his place by the window, deciding to go for his walk now "Have a nice day little master" right after those words were said Death vanished from the room, leaving no trace that someone else had ever been in the room.
Harry could only stare in bewilderment at the place where the entity had been a second ago, before focusing his attention to the old woman that entered the room. Her face didn't look a day out of forty but her silvery hair gave the impression that she might be older. The smile she gave him when her hazel eyes found him was kind and full of warmth.
"I see you are finally awake" her voice gentle and soft, as if she didn't want to spook him.
"Were am I?" was the first thing he blurted out, he really needed answers and Death had not been much of a help in that area, he had not even told him what year he was in now.
The witch took a seat in the chair that was beside his bed, calling in the same soft tone as before "Linly" A moment later a house elf dressed in a dark green dress with the family cress embroidered into it appeared. Harry was impressed to see such a well-dressed elf; Dooby had always worn tattered rags while with the Malfoys and so had Winky so this was a nice surprise. He had never stopped to wonder of there were other families that treated their elves well, then again he had not had the time to wonder much about anything, what with his life being threatened all the time.
"Does Mistress need something?" the little elf asked.
"Bring some food and tea for the both of us, something light for little master Hadrian" she added after remembering that the child had been starved and needed to take it slow when it came to food.
The elf nodded before disappearing and appearing a moment later with a tray that contained two cups of tea, some biscuits and a plate with warm soup. Linly floated the tray to the bed and gently laid it down in front of Harry, then she turned to face her mistress, "Does Mistress need something else from Linly?"
"No, you may leave. Thank you, Linly"
Once the elf left, the woman turned to face him again "I thought you might want something to eat before speaking, you have been asleep for two days so you must be hungry" As if his stomach knew it was talking about him, it let out a loud growl in response to the mention of food. This made Harry blush in embarrassment and the old witch laugh lightly. "It would seem I was right"
Instead of giving a reply to that, Harry took the spoon, with his non injured arm, that was in the tray and took a hesitant sip of the soup. It tasted heavenly, probably the best soup he had ever had in his entire life. But that statement might be influenced by his hunger. Nonetheless, he began to eat with relish when he noticed nothing bad happened after eating it.
Mirta noticed the kid's hesitation to eating the soup, she also noticed how he paused a moment later as if expecting the soup to be poisoned. This brought a pang of sadness and anger to her worn heart. A child should not have to worry if their food was poisoned. If she ever found the people that abused him, she was going to deliver their souls in the most painful way possible to Lord Death herself.
After Harry finished eating, slightly frustrated at his young body that could not stomach to much food, he turned towards the silvered haired woman patiently waiting for her answer his previous question.
"You are at the Peverell manor, I assure you that you are safe here" she added expecting the child to feel a little scared at finding himself with one of the most prominent pureblood family there was in magical Britain. Their reputation could be both a blessing and a curse, specially when children feared them.
Harry to his credit only blinked in surprise at the information given to him. He was with the Peverells, his ancestors. It kind of made him weirded out at the fact that he was sitting in front of his great something grandmother... kinda. The current Peverells, as far as he knew, were descended from the first brother Antioch Peverell. Whereas he - Harry Potter - was descended from the third and youngest brother Ignotus Peverell. Still, they were family, albeit distant family at that.
If he remembered correctly, the Peverell name had died out before Grindelwald was defeated because they had been killed by said Dark Lord's minions. So, it would seem that Death had sent him to a time the couple were still alive to...what? Prevent their deaths? He was unsure if he would be able to prevent it completely but he could damn well try. If there is one thing that had never changed even while under compulsions -or so he would like to think – is that, once he took upon himself to do something, he saw it through till the end.
Licking his lips, Harry opened his mouth to speak "Are you Mrs. Peverell?" the woman nodded slowly, wondering if the kid was scared and very good at not showing it or he really had no problem with them, "I am Mirta Peverell, but you need only call me Mirta or Mrs. Peverell if that makes you feel more comfortable" she added, waiting for the kid to freak out, but Harry only nodded.
As he took in the wary face of the woman – Mrs. Peverell – he noticed something that made him gape a little. He didn't have his glasses on. Looking around the bed to see if he could spot them. Ignoring completely the fact that he didn't seem to need them.
"Is something wrong, dear?" Mirta had seen the distress painted in the boy's face spiked her worry.
"I don't have my glasses" he responded, still looking around the bed and beneath the many pillows that were with him. The old witch's eyebrows shot up in surprise, her wariness forgotten, and then, not being able to help it, she let a light laugh.
Her laugh made Harry pause and look at her, wondering what could have made her so amused. It hit him then, when he finally noticed how he could see every strand of hair in her head, every freckle in face and every detail in her flower-patterned blue dress in perfect clarity. He didn't need glasses anymore.
"I... no longer need glasses, do I?" He felt his face heat up when the lady of the Manor stopped laughing and pinned him with a very amused stared.
"You would be correct young man" she replied, laughter shining through her hazel eyes. Harry felt like now would be an excellent time for the earth to open up and swallow him whole. Why did he always end up making a fool of himself? he cleared his throat in an attempt to not make this situation more awkward for himself.
"But how? I always had to wear glasses and I had them when..." he frowned, when what? When he was transported to the past? When he died? How was he supposed to explain just up until when had he had his glasses on?
Mirta's eyes softened at his frown, "We gave you an eye correcting potion, it was one of the potions that Archer told us to get you".
There's a potion for that? Harry's eyebrows rose towards his hairline in surprise. He was aware that magic could do a lot of incredible things, in a way, it could be a miracle worker but – like everything in life – it had its limitations. When he pondered on it, if there existed a potion that could make you re-grow your bones, it was only logical that there was one for correcting his eyes. Which brought the question, why was it never given to him? Or at the very least offered? He had the funny feeling that Dumbledore may have had something to do with that.
"Yes, there's a potion for that purpose" It would seem that he had not kept that thought to himself, had he said something else that might make this awkward?
"I... was not aware there existed such a potion" then again, he was not aware of many things, as Death had said, his education had been very lacking. "Thank you"
Mirta took a sip of her tea, frowning a little at what little Hadrian had said. How could a magical child not be aware of such a simple potion? Sure, it was difficult to brew and some of the ingredients to make it were difficult to find, hence why it was also expensive, but not impossible to obtain. She began to suspect if he had been with a poor family or... No, the alternative was too scary to consider. But it could not be completely overruled.