Two of the same

Chapter 1

Harry awoke slowly. His limps were heavy and his mind fuzzy. In a daze he looked at the ceiling through narrowed eyes and breathed deeply, as if to cost the air. Finally he lifted his arms and touched his head. A bandage was wrapped around it, just above his eyes. He thought he should feel pain, but there wasn't any, just the heaviness.

He sat up and looked around the room. Without his glasses it was blurred. However the room was so bare that the few pieces of furniture were easily distinguished. There was the bed he was lying on and a nightstand and a chair beside it. Through the window the evening sun dyed the previously white room a soft orange-red.

It became clear to Harry at once that this was a hospital room. Yet, why was he- No! No, he would not go there. Trying to distract himself, he gingerly stood up and walked to the window. Outside people were walking up and down the street, some hurriedly, some with heavy shopping bags and some pausing to speak with acquaintances. The sight was strangely soothing.

After what happened … the world was still the same and Harry knew that it wouldn't change, whatever happened to him and as long as he was healed, he could go back to his normal life.

In that moment the door creaked and Harry whirled around, surprised. In the doorway stood a woman seemingly frozen with shock. She wore strange lime green robes that clashed with her red hair.

„Is something…" Harry began, but the nurse shook her head and walked further into the room, closing the door behind her.

"No, no, you just reminded me of someone I know", she explained and looked at him in such a way that he thought she wanted to rip his face off.

After a minute she got her act together and asked, trying to be professional: "How do you feel? Are you in any pain?"

"No." He walked back to the bad and sat down on the edge, not wanting to find out, what would happen, if this strange woman decided he wasn't healthy enough to walk around.

She was looking at her wristwatch now and said politely: "Are you hungry? It's time for your medicine and it's easier to swallow with some food."

Suddenly feeling the emptiness of his stomach, Harry nodded.

"I'll get it then. Just wait a moment."

And it really was only a moment. Hardly out of the door had she come in again, this time holding a tray. Either she had left the tray outside or the canteen was next door.

She deposited the tray on his bed, before sitting down in the chair. Harry stared at the tray. He couldn't eat in this position. Awkwardly he lifted his legs onto the bed and pulled the tray closer. Sneaking a look at the nurse from the corner of his eye he was relieved to see her staring idly at the wall. He didn't want to be observed while eating.

Taking the fork in his hand he was about to pierce it through a piece of potato…

"I'd suggest drinking first."

And nearly let it fall. He frowned at the redhead, but she had gone back to staring at the wall. Harry took the cup and shook it lightly. It looked like normal juice. He took a sip and spat it out, shuddering. It tasted horrible.

Next to him, the nurse laughed.

"You put the medicine in the food!?", Harry said irritated.

"Not the food, just the juice. The food's there to rid you off the aftertaste." Now that she looked at him amusedly, rather than the focused staring from before, it occurred to him that she was a very pretty and likeable person.

After downing the juice in one go and eating quite a bit of his meal, Harry remembered an intriguing comment.

"You said I looked like someone you know."

The nurse startled. "What?", she said, brought back to reality. "Yes, I meant my son, Daniel, he's twelve … I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself, did I? I'm Lily Potter." Potter, huh? It was a common name.

"Harry."

He regretted it immediately. Lily went back to staring at him and when Harry tried to eat his food as quickly as possible he nearly choked.

Soon the plate was empty and she picked up the tray, but halfway to the door she stopped and turned back, clearly contemplating something. After a few seconds she finally left.

Could it be? Could she be his mother? The name Potter was common, but her reaction wasn't. While it could be considered normal to stare at someone, who suddenly turned up and bore an uncanny resemblance to one's son, that could not be said after having gotten used to this someone's appearance and going back to staring because he introduced himself as Harry.

Clearly, either there was something more personal going on or that woman was just weird.

But, as Harry reminded himself, if she did turn out to be his mother he wouldn't care. She had, after all, left him with the Dursleys.


That evening, instead of flooing home, Lily changed into Muggle clothes, she kept in her locker for occurrences such as this, and walked around London. She couldn't stop thinking about it. And she'd thought about it for a long time now. Back in Harry's room, she had stared at the wall, hope rising in her and being crushed by her will not to let her hope be crushed again, and uncertainty and evidence ringing with each other, resulting in an endless string of What ifs? and Could he really be?

She had promised herself not to think about it. And promptly broken that promise. The thoughts kept sneaking into her mind. More than once Miriam had teased her about her clumsiness and she'd had an easily avoidable argument with Spleen.

But she didn't care. This was Harry.

She sighed. She was as calm as she could expect to be. Swiftly turning into a narrow alleyway, she turned up her nose at the smell and checked that no one was looking. Then she pictured her home in front of her eyes, turned on the spot and apparated.

Her feet connected with the gravel road without making any disturbance. Glancing up she saw the familiar building, surrounded by trees and overgrown grass. A small smile grazed her lips, as she walked toward it. Home.

Stopping before the door, she searched in her pockets for the magical key and opened the door.

"I'm home!"

Lily looked through the living room doorway and saw James standing up from an armchair, depositing a book onto it instead, before going to the kitchen. Footsteps behind her told her, that her husband was following.

"Did the fresh air help?", he asked with an raised eyebrow.

"What do you mean?" She undid the buttons on her cloak and folded it over the back of a chair.

"Normally you floo home. You only walk when you're agitated", he explained and pointed to her muggle clothes.

"So", James continued with a somber expression and eyes focused on her. "I guess you met Harry."

Had he known? Had he known and not told her? "Please", Lily said acidly, her smile obviously forced. "Explain how you've come to that conclusion."

James was unperturbed by her tome and just said "I was there, Lily. I saw his resemblance to Daniel" like it explained everything. He went to the fridge, upon which surface a photo of two toddlers playing together was stuck. He touched one of the toddler's faces. "But you know what they say. Everyone has at least one doppelganger."

"And Daniel's doppelganger is Harry", Lily countered. She put her hands on her hips and set her face in fierce resolution.

James sighed and stepped back from the fridge, facing her again. "I thought we were over that." He shook his head. "No, were not over it, but I thought we had accepted, that Harry is dead."

Understanding, Lily's expression softened. "He might not be. James, really, what are the odds that another boy with Harry's face and name exists?"

James' head jerked up. "Name?", he repeated.

"I thought you knew." Lily raised an eyebrow, surprised, as well.

"I didn't know. I thought you'd belief him to be Harry", he said exhaustedly and sat down on a chair. Lily could faintly hear him mutter: "His name's Harry."

"I spoke with him", she explained as she sat down on the chair across from him.

"What's his surname?"

"He didn't say."

James was contemplating this news, but Lily already knew what he'd decide. Harry was his son, too, and it really was only the lack of information that had made him decide not to investigate further. Harry was dead, but the hope, that he was alive wasn't. Even if this Harry turned out not to be their Harry and she'd have to suffer from misplaced hope, she knew she wouldn't be able to rest, if she didn't seize this opportunity.

"So how did it go?", James asked. "The conversation."

Her face reddened and groaning she hid it with her hands. "I made a complete fool of myself."

James snorted and grinned. "Oh, do tell."

She lifted her head and glowered. "Spleen suddenly ordered me to go speak to Harry, saying the charms had alerted them, that he'd woken up. He did it like he distributes cleaning duty, giving it to the first he catches taking a break! Since it's an easy task, being the first person a traumatized boy on the verge of an emotional breakdown sees! Not at all worth alerting a mind healer!" She steamed. "Oh, I hate Spleen! He's taking his dislike for me too far. Harry could have seriously suffered from that move. I'm no mind healer. I didn't know what to do at all!"

James smiled comfortingly and patted her forearm. She retracted it. "I'm sure you did all right."

Lily huffed. "It wasn't any different from talking to normal patients. After what happened … I thought he'd be broken."

James frowned. "Maybe he doesn't remember", he offered. "I heard memory loss can occur with traumas."

"It could be. We didn't speak about it." Maybe I should have addressed it?, Lily thought. No, he should see a professional.

James pondered about it. "If he truly doesn't remember, it'd be a terrible blow for the department."

She looked at him, disapproving. "James, how can you!"

"What?"

"Think about the boy, it'd be better for him, if he forgot!"

"Calm down, Lily." He held up his hands. "I'm just seeing the situation objectively." He speculated. "They'll probably send an auror to him soon."

Lily straightened. "You do it."

James looked incredulous. "Why, so I can torment an innocent boy?"

"No, so that you can speak to your maybe-son without being suspicious."

He frowned. "You're talking to the Master of unsuspicious here. I do not need an excus-Oh Merlin!"

"What?!" Lily shot up, upturning her chair and searching the kitchen for any sign of harm.

James grabbed her shoulders, his face captivating her restless eyes. "I just remembered. That boy can't be Harry-he's a muggle!"


Harry awoke with a scream, sitting up instantly. Panting, he wiped the sweat from his face with his sleeve. On his cheek he stopped and prodded the area with his fingertips. He could still feel the warm blood running down his cheeks and the ache in his limps from the all-encompassing pain.

He looked down onto his lap where his other hand was shaking, clasping the bed covers. Exhaling, he loosened his grip on the sheets and tried to calm down. It was just a nightmare, he repeated over and over in his mind.

The first sunrays of the day were already lighting the room through the curtains. Harry stood up, not bearing to lie down anymore. He looked around the room. It was completely bare. Nothing to entertain yourself with other than sleeping and that was no option.

As he walked out the room, he decided he'd just tell whoever asked that he needed to go to the toilet-it wasn't a lie either. However nobody asked. The employees (Harry extinguished them by their lime green robes) were happy to ignore him and the visitors too focused on each other to notice him. Strange lot, they were, too. If his uncle were here, Harry was sure he'd have gotten a heart attack in the midst of long haired guys wearing dresses and eccentric women with stuffed animals on their hats. Harry rather liked it.

It got weird however, when he descended the stairs and the portraits started talking and moving. Thoroughly creeped out, he tried closing his eyes and pinching himself. It didn't help and after one particularly long pinch he saw a portrait laughing at him from the corner of his eyes. Annoyed, he huffed and resumed walking.

On the landing of the first floor he stopped and looked down over the railing. He couldn't see much of the ground floor, but what he saw was crowded. Deciding to avoid that area, Harry explored the first floor.

"Look out!", someone screamed.

Harry startled and whipped around, his eyes widening at the sight. A blur of gold was flying toward him. Behind that he could faintly make out a person running after it, but not being able to keep up with the fast blur.

He didn't know what to do, so he didn't do anything. As the blur came nearer, at an alarming pace, he realized that was a mistake. The blur were two dozen little golden birds with sharp beaks and an aggressive aura.

Quickly, he threw himself on the ground and covered his head with his hands, just in time to avoid the beaks piercing his body. As the birds flew over him, he heard a metallic clinking sound.

When they had passed over him he sat up and watched to his horror how they turned around in a wide curve, holding onto each other like a swarm of fish, and charged at him again.

"No way!", he cried out and scrambled to his feet. He took one of his slippers and threw it at the birds, before turning around and running. His slipper had disrupted the swarm, stretching it in the length.

Harry just turned a corner and saw, half fascinated and half panicked, the beak of the first bird gliding through the wall, as if it were butter. They were just a foot behind him!

In a flash of inspiration, he grabbed the lid of a dust bin and held it like a shield, facing the birds. But it wasn't going to make any difference. The lid was too small and their beaks too sharp, they could go through wall for heaven's sake!

Harry stared at the lethal creatures with dread and thought that he really didn't want to die, when he had just survived a near-death-situation.

Suddenly his arms were dragged to the ground and he fell to his knees, not able to hold the weight. The dust bin lid had enlarged and was now bigger than him. Feeling that it was going to fall down on him, he reached out and held it up with his palms.

Not a second later a golden beak pierced through the lid, just missing his fingers. Harry yelled and removed his hands, while the other birds punctured the lid in quick succession.

Without the support of his hands, the lid fell and would have crushed Harry, if he hadn't pushed himself backward in time.

Harry stared at the lid in disbelief, not even checking for further birds. How had it gotten so large?

A man ran around the corner and stopped abruptly. He gaped, bent over and panted heavily, all the while staring at the enormous lid lying on the floor with two dozen beaks stuck in it and the birds belonging to them struggling to free themselves.

Finally the man straightened and said, still a little out of breathe: "Accidental magic, huh? I forgot how impressive it is."

Magic? He must have misheard.

The man walked around the lid and gave Harry a hand. "Augustus Pye", he introduced himself.

"Harry." He took the hand and was immediately lifted onto his feet.

"Thanks for catching them", Pye said and pointed to the birds. "I'll treat you to something at the hospital café. Just … don't talk about this?"

Harry smiled. Employees wanting to look good he could deal with. "I'll take that treat and you show me where the toilets are."

Pye grinned. "Sure thing."

Someone cleared their throat.

Pye's grin fell. Slowly he turned, a big, fake smile on his face. "Ah, Lily, nice to see you!"

Skeptically she raised an eyebrow. "What happened?", she asked, straight to the point, hands on her hips and displaying all the authority of a displeased mother.

"It really wasn't my fault", Pye exclaimed."I removed those birds from a patient and locked them into a cage. How should I have known that they'd pick the lock? I followed them, but they're freaking fast, so I lost sight of them for a moment. When I got here I found this." He pointed to the lid with birds.

Straight to the point. His whole explanation was as short as possible. He didn't even mention his warning, which would surely have earned him extra points. That's the type of woman Lily was. She didn't allow beating around the bush.

Lily stared at the lid with an unreadable expression, then turned to Harry and raised her eyebrow.

He felt like a schoolboy listing his misdeeds under her stare. "After Pye warned me", he said and figured he could give him those points. "I ran away, but they chased me. I used that dust bin lid as a shield, though it was too small to make any difference, but there was nothing else I could use. Then the lid suddenly grew and the birds got stuck in it."

Lily's eyes simultaneously widened and softened it sympathy. She looked at him like she wanted to tell him something. In the end she said to Pye: "I'll overlook this, but make sure to remove the lid before someone sees and lock the birds away safely."

Pye nodded enthusiastically, kneeled before the lid and examined it. "You're going to be a great wizard", he said, looking Harry in the eyes. "I never did this impressive magic."

He heard it clearly this time. Magic. "Magic doesn't exist."

Pye frowned. "Of course it does."

"No, it doesn't."

Pye stood up. "You … look at the lid! You can't seriously belief that's possible without magic."

"But magic doesn't exist." Every kid knew that. The adults said it so often.

Pye was still frowning. "Did you hit your head?", he asked, looking at the bandage, now concerned.

Before Harry could answer, Lily interfered. "Pye", she admonished him.

"Harry, I'll show you the toilettes." She put a hand on his shoulder and guided him to the stairs. While turning the corner, he saw the bird from before was also stuck in the wall.

"You should research your staff better. No one will want to be treated by a freak."

Lily's hand tightened on his shoulder. "He's no freak", she said firmly.

He slapped her hand away and stepped back. She was just like him. She believed in magic, too.

"No." Lily grasped his shoulders with her hands and looked him in the eyes. "Harry, I know magic seems pretty ridiculous, but … please, hear me out. There is a secret society of wizards and witches. They went into hiding after the witch huntings. Since then they've made it their utmost priority to remain secret. With magic it's an easy task. Logically, that would be possible, right?"

Harry nodded, his face blank. He'd hear her out, just to placate her, but he wouldn't belief her.

"Right now you're in the middle of this society. This is St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Only wizards and witches can get here. Pye is a wizard, I'm a witch and you're magical, too. The lid-your magic did that to protect you. Have you seen the portraits? The talking and moving ones? They're real. Magic's real."

She let go of his shoulders and looked hopefully at him. He didn't say anything, just stared at the ground.

"If you want to, I can show you some more magic", Lily offered.

"No." He looked up and continued walking. The witch fell into step next to him. "Let me think about it."

Lily not only brought him to the toilettes, but also the baths, where he was to shower. Before that, she removed his bandages. He had a scar above his right ear. It was straight and nearly horizontal, turning slightly upward to the back of his head. An inch of the scar showed on his forehead. Lily called it "curse-scar" with the most peculiar expression.

It turned out he had bandages in other places, too, most notably, his torso and legs. Removing his bandages involved a rather embarrassing stripping down in front of Lily. While he didn't care about women yet, he was aware he was fast becoming a teenager.

The communal shower was empty and a promise from Lily made sure that it remained so. During the shower he stared at his body, as he had already done, when his bandages were removed. His wounds should not have healed so well, there were no traces of them whatsoever beside the scar on his head. It was impossible. If you didn't belief in magic.

His mind had been changed long before that point. He knew that the lid enlargening was magic. He had been there, no tricks were involved. However he had been told for years that magic didn't exist and there had never been a reason to belief otherwise. Now there was and Harry found himself willing to give this society a chance. It couldn't be worse than the Dursleys. And honestly, who didn't want to be able to wield magic?

But as Harry looked into the mirror over the sink and saw his new scar, he knew there was another reason, too.


Dark Mark sighted at Muggle Torture

After eleven years the Dark Mark has been sighted again in Great Whinging, Surrey. When the aurors arrived, the perpetrators were already gone, but what they saw left them in shock. Ten muggles lay dead, their bodies mutilated and tortured, in an abandoned building. The eleventh muggle, a child of twelve years, survived and was admitted to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

A ministry speaker says: "We are simultaneously working on finding out the identities of the muggles and sending their bodies to their families and on finding the culprits. Such an act of muggle racism and violence cannot go unpunished. We will make sure that the victims receive justice in court."

On the matter of the Dark Mark James Potter, auror and father to the Boy-who-lived, claims: "We do not know if the culprits were Death Eaters (followers of You-know-who) or if one or multiple of them had connections to Death Eaters (only Death Eaters know how to summon the Dark Mark). It is obvious however that they want their actions to be associated to You-know-who …