Chapter three

15.7K 539 27

Harry POV

My dreams have changed. I'm still Kovus, but I'm older, looking at Draco crying or upset, and not being able to help him, although I deeply want to. Then the dream changes, and a man stands in a large house. I realise he looks like an older version of the Tom Riddle I met in second year, but he's not Voldemort. He doesn't seem evil either. He seems sad, as though he's missing something. I expect he misses Kovus almost as much as Draco does.

During the winter holidays I'm forced to go back to the Dursley's. Dumbledore made me go. He didn't really give a good reason, just that he felt it would be good for me. So now I'm lying on an uncomfortable bed in a hand me down bedroom in a household with an abusive uncle, aggravating aunt and bullying cousin.

I sit in my room, very excited. Draco's about to arrive! I try not to squeal as the doorbell rings and I hear Dad going to answer it. But instead of Lucius' friendly voice, there's a bang, then shouting, then more banging. I realise that it's not Lucius and Draco.

A man walks into the room in a cloak with a long white beard. I ask him who he is, he replies that he's Albus Dumbledore. And that he's going to take care if me because Draco and Father have been bad. He calls me Harry. He says obliviate, then all that disappears.

A man holds me in his arms.

"Your name is Harry Potter." He tells me. "You've lived with your aunt and uncle for as long as you can remember. They said your parents died in a car crash, but you remember a flash of green light... They have a son called Dudley too. This is what you look like." He shows me a mirror, and I see a little boy with messy brown hair and green eyes with glasses and a scar on his head.

"Okay," I say, and the man takes me to the Dursley's house.

I wake up gasping. That definitely wasn't a dream. What if my other dreams haven't been dreams either? What if they were memories?

The more I think of it, the more I'm sure. I'm Kovus Riddle. Dumbledore put glamour on me and totally recreated my memories. I'm not Harry Potter at all. In fact, maybe there is no Harry Potter. I jump out of bed and begin to pack. I'm going to find my family.  

When my mate was taken (drarry)Where stories live. Discover now