What If?

Harry's eyes drooped as he made his way back from Quidditch practice. His clothes were drenched, and his spirits were low. The team had been off their game today, what with all the controversy spreading surrounding Dumbledore's disappearance and the replacement the Ministry sent in. Harry had tried to put it out of his mind, but no matter what he did, he could not stop thinking about the last time he had seen the Headmaster; the words Dumbledore had spoken.

Harry's eyes scanned the hall as he made his way up to the Headmaster's study, unsure what the meeting was going to be about. He was sure he wasn't in trouble, but just in case had run through the events of the last three weeks, unable to find anything. He asked Professor Snape, worried that he had done something to offend the Headmaster. Snape had sighed, telling Harry he was being a pain, but he was sure there was nothing to worry about. That did not nearly put Harry's mind to rest, knowing that the Head of Slytherin house was known for saying things to his students just to stop them from asking any more questions.

Finally arriving at the study, he knocked apprehensively.
"Come in," a voice called softly, and Harry knew but to disobey. He entered with apprehension and looked around. Everything was in its rightful place, except the sorting hat, which was sitting atop a pile of old books. Harry frowned as he stared at the old clothing item, wondering what it would be doing off the shelf at this time of year. Slowly, Harry approached the desk, picking up one of the books off the counter. The cover read, 'A Twist in Time', but Harry had never heard of it or its author, Gilderoy Lockhart. From the blurb at the back of the book, Lockhart was a recluse and a genius; known for keeping to himself. The book followed his theory on multiple universes colliding. He claimed it was all due to circumstances where a wizard were to mess with the past to an irreparable extent, causing the future to be so warped that it could be almost unrecognisable. Harry flipped to one of the middle chapters, starting to read half way down the first page to see what this man was on about.

Chapter 17; De Ja Vu

… something is to be said for the feeling, an intense sense that something is wrong. It seems that the correlation between the feeling of 'experiencing this before', known to Muggles as 'De ja vu', and the effects of time manipulation may be more profound than originally believed. You see, when a wizard experiences this anomaly it can be argued that the magic held within the DNA of the wizard can sense the disruption in the dealings of fate…

Harry frowned as he read it, his face screwing up in confusion. He let out a laugh, which sounded more like a scoff as he replaced the book.
"Sounds like the ramblings of a loon," Harry said softly, placing the book back on the pile. He looked around at some of the other books, and as he did, he heard a rustling from behind him. Dumbledore's phoenix was perched on its stand, his head under his wing in sleep. Harry stared at the magnificent bird for a second, wondering how Dumbledore had come to own such a creature. His thoughts on Dumbledore brought his sight to the desk sitting in the middle of the room.

Dumbledore was not at his desk when Harry looked across at it. This seemed strange as he was also nowhere else to be seen, yet his voice had called Harry to enter. Harry saw something on the Professor's desk, a ring – the stone a deep colour with the carving of a triangle within it. Its' face was cracked, but somehow that did nothing to tarnish the beauty of it. Harry felt himself reach for it, something compelling him, drawing him toward it.
"Bee in your bonnet, Potter?" a voice from behind him drawled. Harry turned swiftly to see the Hat. Harry's brow furrowed as he felt something twist in his gut, something was just a little bit too familiar about this.
"No, thanks. I was just waiting for Professor Dumbledore."
"The Headmaster would not appreciate you snooping, just so you know," the Hat said, his fabric eyes narrowing as he stared at Harry. "But then again, you always were a bit too nosy for your own good." Harry remembered back to the conversation he had with the Sorting Hat on his first day. The 'potential' he possessed, but the 'recklessness' that Gryffindor would cultivate.
"Nosy wasn't how you put it."
"I'm glad you agreed then, when I decided that the Slytherin house would suit you more fittingly. You have really come into your full potential." The feeling in Harry's gut refused to subside as he stared at the Hat.
"Where is Dumbledore?" he asked suddenly, becoming impatient and slightly rattled by the Hat's words. Harry turned as he heard a voice.
"Harry Potter, you must leave immediately – it's not safe," Dumbledore was standing before him, his breathing heavy and his eyes wide, "and you must not tell anyone what you saw here today."

Dumbledore was not seen after that, and no one could tell him where the professor went.

"Heya, Harry!" a voice called pulling Harry out of his reverie, and Harry spun on the spot to greet the owner. Hermione smiled, her cheeks coloured slightly as he returned the smile.
"Hermione? What are you doing all the way down here?" he asked, looking around the empty corridor. He had just been about to enter the common room, ready for a long night of homework, when he heard hurried footsteps followed by the sound of Hermione's voice.
"I've been trying to get your attention for about 10 minutes, but you seemed to be in your own world," she said as she ran her fingers through a lock of her hair. "I've been instructed to give you this." She handed him a small slip of paper. Harry looked at it, intrigued. On it was a small heart, with the words, 'If you feel what I feel, meet me on the field at 9 on Thursday. – Ginny', written in a neat cursive. Harry blushed, his eyes widening at the letter.
"I didn't realise –" he started, but he was cut off by Hermione.
"Oh please, she's only interested because she thinks you're some chosen one…" she said with a scoff, and Harry froze. She was referring to the new chant the Slytherin team had started, claiming that Harry was chosen by Merlin himself to win the cup this year, but something seemed off. His gut twisted as he stared at her, and she stopped speaking as well. She looked at him, tilting her head slightly, silently asking if he were okay. Harry couldn't breathe as he looked at her. His automatic response of, 'But I am the chosen one,' had caught in his throat. He didn't know what de ja vu felt like, but he would bet anything it were this.

Harry excused himself, running from Hermione who was left speechless in the hallway. He didn't know where he was headed and he didn't really care. Surely that crack wasn't right, surely de ja vu was nothing – an old wives tale made to freak out believers? Harry's thoughts were reeling as he walked. Each little detail persisting to rattle around in his mind, driving him mad. Where was Dumbledore when he really needed to know what was going on? Harry could hear his breaths as he paced the corridors, not sure what he was looking for. He felt the sweat start to form on his forehead. He couldn't remember if he had ever fainted before today, but he was almost sure he new this feeling. It was crazy to think that maybe there was an alternate universe, where things were not as they were now. Wasn't it crazy?

Wasn't it?

What if…?

A/N: Words - 1,351

July Challenge - Harry (1): AU; Different House - Slytherin

Assessment - Potions: Harry's frozen realisation/extra prompt: (word) fainted