Twelve of You?

By Eloria

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I don't know, *I* *don't* *know*!

Sobbing.

Pleading.

Screaming.

White fire lances through my mind and the faces with their leering, glinting masks must hold me down.

It's my twenty-first birthday and James Potter has drug me out to some Muggle bar for a night of wild carousing.

But, he shouldn't be here, he's only sixteen, still at Hogwarts!

The yammering and clamoring of the pub dies down a little, as my mum walks in the door, but she's not....

Old, so old, looks like Grandmother!

A droning buzz fills my ears and I wave away a bee.

That isn't there?

"I'm sorry that haven't come for awhile, but I was... I told you I'd gotten into Hogwarts."

Look down and down and down and there's someone standing there, in front of me.

Sweet, round face, wide-brown eyes.

It's me! In my Hogwarts robes, no less; exactly as I am now, at eleven.

But how can that be?

Two of me?

No.

No.

Not with my sweet Anna's fine, brown hair, with it's strands of gold, falling over my face like that.

Neville?

He said his name was... what did he say?

Impossible!

The baby was just born!

Or, or maybe my Anna just told me?

Or was it -

"I met Harry Potter this year. He's in the same dorm. I - I made Gryffindor; never thought I would."

Warm pleasure in that voice, I want to wrap it round me and keep out the cold, why is it suddenly so *cold*?

Harry Potter?

Did James have a brother?

*I* had a brother!

Milton!

That's strange, he always comes when I call.

Blood, oh, so so much blood.

No one could ever survive loosing that much blood-

"I'm not the best student. Hermione is though, she's tops at everything. Potions is the worst, though, I just can't seem to get anything right. The professor, Snape, he... he's none to fond of me."

Keep your head down, Black! How many times do I have to tell you! You're good, but not so good that you can stand up in the middle of a firing range! One of these days, you'll get overconfident and wind up a bloody puddle on the floor. Try to be more like Peter!

And Peter Pettigrew grabs the golden Snitch! The Woollongong Warriors Win the Quidditch World Cup!

I scream along with a hundred other fans, waving our flags in the stands, grabbing Lily Evans and kissing her for all I'm worth.

No...

That doesn't seem... quite right...

"And Harry told me that I was worth 12 of Malfoy, since he's in Slytherin."

But Quidditch, I remember Quidditch so clearly. They won't let me have a broom now, but I remember I was good, I was a top-notch - beater... no, keeper, yes, keeper, that's it.

And James was out seeker, our chaser?

It doesn't matter!

All that matter is that I've got my arms around my Anna and we're looking into each others eyes, promising, for all eternity, to hold each other close.

I love you, my Annabell.

Yes, I know that you love me.

"I knew that I shouldn't, but Draco Malfoy, he was going to do something to them, and I wanted to, to warn them. Wound up getting a detention in the Forbidden Forest. Malfoy, he grabbed me, scared me, but Hagrid-"

Flying through the air, with the greatest of ease!

Curling up tight in a ball, lading with enough force to smack the breath from your lungs, water going as high as the tops of the Whomping Willow.

Laughing as you had to swim almost half the lake to get back to shore.

Arthur Weasley holds up his wand and a flashing 8 appears!

8!

That was at least a 9! If not a 10!

You stubborn, git, Arthur, you just don't want me to beat you!

Stop where you are, you bastard!

"I won the house cup." A pause. "Well, it wasn't so much me that it was, it was just, Dumbledore, he gave me a few points, just enough because we were tied with Slytherin and... I think he just didn't want Slytherin to win, again."

I don't care how much money you've got, Lestrange, you can't bribe me! I'm hauling your worthless Death Eater ass away to Azkaban!

Expecto Patronum!

What?

Where's my little unicorn?

She always...

No wand!

Where's my wand!

What's a wizard without his wand, how can I work, how can I protect-

"Good-bye."

No, don't you touch her, you *filth*!

"I, I... I'll be back next week."

Get out of my house!

Anna, hide the boy, hide -

Neville?