It's All Just Temporary with a Bit of Necromancy

Chapter 3: No Matter What You Choose

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Harry woke up disoriented. He was starting to really hate waking up not knowing what was happening or what had happened. It was becoming a far too regular occurrence for his liking. He looked around, he was in a bed with dark purple sheets and a bookshelf and soft wood-paneled walls. Where was he? Another thing he was starting to hate having to ask. He cast his mind back, trying to piece together the turn of events. He remembered Ron and Hermione returning to him. He had been rescued! That was it. His friends had saved him and the twins had taken him somewhere and filled him with potions.

He tried sitting up and noticed he could with only a little bit of pain. He spotted a glass of water on the bedside table next to about three other potions and a note.

Harry,

Be sure to take these when you wake up. The water should help wash them down. The bathroom is just past the door with the Arrows poster. Get freshened up, there should be some clothes in the rucksack near the bed. Come out when you are done and we will try to fill you in on what's happening.

-Forge and Gred

Not seeing a reason to argue with the note and its advice, Harry downed all three potions as quickly as he could before draining the water. Rolling out of the bed, Harry cautiously put his feet on the floor and attempted to stand. His legs were shaky but could hold him. Stiffly he walked the few feet towards the bathroom door and turned on the shower. He was really starting to hate being in situations that caused him to go days without showering.

Harry steadfastly refused to look in the mirror, afraid of what he might see. Instead, he put all of his focus on watching the water heat up and eagerly hopped in and sighed as the hot water splashed across his skin. Grabbing the soap, Harry began to lather and scrub at his skin trying to scrub the memories of the whole bloody summer out of his skin.

Finally deciding to give his skin a break since it was a raw red color, Harry washed his hair and stepped out. Drying off with an orange towel, Harry finally decided to brave the mirror. He looked terrible but probably not his worst. The potions he had been given were definitely helping because his eyes didn't look as sunk in and his skin was starting to gain color again. His arms, legs, and torso were scarred but healing though he would probably always have marks from the worst of them. His ribs were showing but given the fact that he had hardly eaten all summer given his feverish state before his birthday and then the torture after it that was to be expected. But he could smell food drifting into the bathroom and he hoped the sight of his ribs would fade again.

Before stepping away from the mirror, Harry glanced at the mark on his chest once more. The symbol tattooed into his chest marking him as a Necromancer. Harry still didn't know what he thought about that. How was he a Necromancer? No one had said anything about the Potters being connected to them and apparently, they had died out. So why now? Why him? Harry frowned at the mark through the mirror, before sighing. It was just another thing that made him different. He could do nothing yet until he had more information. Stepping back into the room, he spotted the rucksack and pulled out some jeans and a t-shirt. Pretty simple and probably Rons, but Harry wasn't too bothered. Anything was better than just his boxers.

Finally, he opened the other door that he assumed led to the rest of the house and he was right. He spotted a large sitting room with a small kitchen and bar area. And at the bar were two redheaded men that looked up as Harry stepped into the room.

"Harrikins!"

"You've finally decided-"

"To grace us-"

"With your presence." Harry couldn't stop the chuckle escape his lips.

"Hey, guys. Mind filling me in on what all has happened?"