Alternate universes? Other realites? What if they were all true?



Within the Folds of Darkness

The Beginning of the End

"HARRY POTTER! You get down here this instant!"

Harry groaned, reaching out his hand to find his glasses, knocking over his lamp in the process. Placing his glasses on his face, he sat up, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes.

"Coming, Uncle Vernon," he muttered, standing and stretching. Stifling a yawn, he trundled over to his closet and pulled out some loose fitting clothes. Dressing, he attempted to tame his wild hair and went downstairs.

Upon entering the kitchen, a frying pan was thrust into his hands. "Help your aunt," Uncle Vernon said, glaring over his paper. Aunt Petunia didn't say anything and just motioned for him to go to the stove.

The summer of his 6th year had gone smoothly for the most part and his aunt and uncle had been decent to him. Of course, there were plenty of reasons why they would, due to the fact that Voldemort was definitely back and even Vernon wasn't a fool. Remus had visited occasionally, as had Tonks and other members of the Order of the Phoenix, mostly to check up on him. But it was welcomed.

Dudley had stopped picking on him, mostly too busy with stuffing his face in front of the television. Harry glanced at his cousin, whose beady eyes were currently watching the tele. He fried up some eggs and set it in front of his cousin and uncle. Taking his own food, he looked at Aunt Petunia.

"I'm going back upstairs," he said. She nodded, making a shooing motion and he left.

Taking his food to his room, he sat down at his desk. Pulling out his Potions book, he began eating and reading. Suddenly the pages shimmered and he blinked, rubbing his eyes. They went back to normal and he brushed it off as not getting enough sleep. He continued to read and was about to put his book away when it happened again. But this time, it was much bigger. It felt like the room was spinning and he put his hands to his head, squeezing his eyes shut. Then he was falling.......

The Year 1991

Harry blinked, looking around. Where am I? Then he saw himself and stared. There he stood, his eleven-year old self, about to get the news that would change his life, and soon become the happiest day of his life.

"But yeah must know about yer mum and dad," Hagrid said. "I mean, they're famous. You're famous."

"What?" Harry asked. "My – my mum and dad weren't famous, were they?"

"Yeh don' know...yeh don' know..." Hagrid ran his fingers through his hair, fixing Harry with a bewildered stare. "Yeh don' know what yeh are?"

Uncle Vernon suddenly spoke and Harry glanced at him. "Stop!" he commanded. "Stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell the boy anything!"

A braver man than Vernon Dursley would have quailed under the furious look Hagrid now gave him; when Hagrid spoke, his every syllable trembled with rage.

"You never told him? Never told him what was in the letter Dumbledore left fer him? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An' you've kept it from him all these years?"

"Keep what from me?" Harry asked.

"STOP! I FORBID YOU!" yelled Uncle Vernon in panic. Aunt Petunia gave a gasp of horror.

"Ah, go boil yer heads, both of yeh," said Hagrid. "Harry – yer a wizard."

Suddenly the world was spinning and he was lost in the darkness once again...

"- my name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

Harry blinked, suddenly standing right next to himself. He glanced at the younger Harry and reached out, waving his hand in front of the boy's face, but he didn't move. What's going on? Harry wondered. He looked at Malfoy standing in the doorway.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford." Draco turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." Draco held out his hand.

Harry wondered vaguely what would have happened if he had chosen to take Draco's hand that day on the train but before he could see what happened, the darkness consumed him...

Harry blinked, looking around. He saw himself lying on the Quidditch pitch. Looking around, he realized there was a match going on. He blinked, suddenly seeing himself in green and silver robes. Then that image vanished and he saw young Harry standing up and coughing, the golden snitch falling out into his hands. And he was definitely wearing red and gold robes.

"He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it!"

Cheering filled the air and a triumphant Harry was grinning broadly.

Harry smiled upon seeing this. Another one of the happiest moments...And then he was gone...

He stood in an empty room. Looking around, he found himself, standing in front of a mirror. The Mirror of Erised! He realized. He stepped up beside his younger self, looking at the reflection in the mirror.

There was a woman with dark red hair and her eyes were identical to Harry's. Bright green – exactly the same shape, but then he noticed that she was crying; smiling, but crying at the same time. The tall, thin, black-haired man standing next to her put his arm around her. He wore glasses, and his hair was very untidy. It stuck up in at the back, just as Harry's did.

Harry was so close to the mirror now that his nose was nearly touching that of his reflection. "Mom?" he whispered. "Dad?"

Harry swallowed, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. He had thought had had come to terms with the loss of his parents, but he realized as his tears fell that he hadn't. And it hurt.

They just looked at him, smiling. And slowly, Harry looked into the faces of the other people in the mirror, and saw other pairs of green eyes like his, other noses like his, even a little old man who looked as though he had Harry's knobbly knees – Harry was looking at his family, for the first time in his life.

The Potters smiled and waved at Harry and he stared hungrily back at them, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though he was hoping to fall right through it and reach them. He had a powerful kind of ache inside him, half joy, half terrible sadness.

Harry closed his eyes briefly. I wish they were still alive, he thought before he was falling once more...

The Year 1992

"You don't think he managed to get a picture of his attacker?" said Professor McGonagall eagerly.

Dumbledore didn't answer. He opened the back of the camera.

"Good gracious!" said Madam Pomfrey.

A jet of steam had hissed out of the camera. There was the acrid smell of burnt plastic drifting in the air.

Harry stared, watching them. The Chamber of Secrets, he whispered.

"Melted," said Madam Pomfrey wonderingly. "All melted..."

"What does this mean, Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked urgently.

"It means," said Dumbledore, "that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again."

Harry turned away, looking around the hospital wing, his eyes landing on his younger self pretending to sleep. If only I had know how to get down to the chamber earlier...I could have saved Ginny all of that...if only I had taken that diary when I saw Mr. Malfoy put it in Ginny's cauldron, Harry thought, knowing that all the ifs in the world wouldn't change the past...

The Year 1993

"You know what this means?" Sirius said abruptly. "Turning Pettigrew in?"

Harry stifled back a gasp, looking into the face of his godfather. His thirteen year old self walked next to him. He fought back tears that threatened to overwhelm him. Seeing Sirius, alive and well hurt.

"You're free," said Harry.

"Yes..." said Sirius. "But I'm also – I don't know if anyone ever told you – I'm your godfather."

"Yeah, I knew that," said Harry.

"Well...your parents appointed me your guardian. If anything happened to them..." Harry waited. "I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle. But...well...think about it. Once my name's cleared...if you wanted a...a different home..."

"What – live with you?"

Harry felt a twinge in his chest. That had been another great moment where he felt that nothing could ever go wrong again.

"Of course, I thought you wouldn't want to," Sirius said quickly. "I understand, I just thought I'd –"

"Are you insane? Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?"

"You want to? You mean it?"

"Yeah, I mean it!"

Upon seeing the smile on Sirius' face, Harry's heart wrenched. He closed his eyes, the tears falling. Sirius...it's all my fault...I'm so sorry....why did you have to leave? Why couldn't you be alive? And then it was dark...

From far away, above his head, he heard a high, cold voice say, "Kill the spare,"

A swishing noise and a second voice, which screeched the words to the night: "Avada Kedavra!"

Harry watched as a blaze of green light filled the cemetery and watched as Cedric fell to the ground, dead. He swallowed what was left in his stomach, trying not to retch. It was too horrible to watch. That nightmare had haunted him for years and here he was, watching it all over again...

The Year 1995

Harry stood in a vast room and then his eyes fell upon an archway in the center. With a knot of dread in his stomach, he realized what it was and what was going to happen. In horror, people appeared and he watched as a few people battled.

"Come on, you can do better than that!" Sirius yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room. The second jet of light hit him squarely in the chest.

Harry's eyes widened and he couldn't help but leap for Sirius. "SIRIUS!!!" he screamed.

The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock. It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall. His body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backward through the ragged veil hanging from the arch...

There was a look of mingled fear and surprise on his godfather's wasted, once-handsome face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind and then fell back into place.

Harry leapt, tears streaming down his face, into the veil and beyond...

Present Day

"Oh wake up already! You've slept the entire bloody afternoon!" a very familiar voice chided.

Harry blinked open his eyes and saw only fuzzy images. He reached for his glasses, only to find that they weren't there. Rubbing his eyes, he realized that the images were getting clearer.

"Oy! He's coming to!" someone called. That someone looked back down at Harry and when he finally saw clearly who it was, he gasped in shock.