Title: Aren't You Supposed to Be Dead?
Summary: Future, leader-like Harry abruptly drops into the past during an Order Meeting in the summer between fourth and fifth year.
Rating: K ?
Warning(s): None really, except of course the warning of complete randomness. Seriously this scene just popped into my head and makes absolutely no sense.
A/N: I realize my lack of updates is excruciating, I feel like strangling myself and my incompetence. Inspiration is flowing for ideas and working out plots and lay outs and scenes for stories is going splendid, too splendid even, but writing the actual chapters is at a serious deadness that makes me want to crack my head on the nearest wall. So since nothing seems to be working towards my obviously blocked mind, I decided to just upload this bit of complete randomness in the hope that it will spark something in my mind. At the very least it can't hurt to try, although this random one-shot might be so horrible it might actually hurt anyone reading it, but ah well, you were warned for randomness and lack of any sense, so it will be your own fault if reading this ends up hurting you.
Rant over! Enjoy, if that is possible!
And if you feel up to it or are up to it -meaning you weren't hurt bad enough to lose your mind- then please review.
p.s. excuse any grammar or spelling mistakes for now, I wrote this around midnight in a random mood and it was a sudden scene and thus I rushed through it to get it out of my mind.
Okay now I'm really done. Ciao!
Albus Dumbledore nodded at Alastor thanking him silently for his report on the current situation. There wasn't much known as of yet and little to be found. Voldemort -supposedly alive and whole again- had made no appearances or even distant signs of truly being back. The Ministry ignorantly threw aside the mere thought of Voldmeort returning, their fear too strong to allow any reason to enter their minds. But Dumbledore believed Harry -the poor boys' condition upon return from the maze should have been prove enough. He'd witnessed something horrible and the moment he'd spoken those words to Dumbledore -he's back, Voldemort is back - he'd known they were true. There had been no doubt in his mind.
A subtle cough drew Albus' attention back to the meeting. It was uncharastic of him to get so distracted, but it had been happening more often lately. He looked around the room at the many trusted members of the Order seated around the long, rectangular table, waiting for him to take charge, give orders, prepare a plan of action. With a depe sigh, Albus spoke.
"Very well, Alastar. Our next course of action should- "
A bright light from the neighboring room made Albus swallow his words. All eyes turned to the light only to flinch shut as it brightened further to a point where it actually hurt with eyes still closed. "What the- !" someone grumbled as everyone turned away from the light not of their own accord -after all, it could be dangerous.
A loud thud and the the light died out so suddenly, it was like someone flipped a switch. As one the member sof the Order rose, turning towards the living room with wands raised and eyes focussed despite the remaining effects of having watched into bright light, dots ad splotches of bright,differing colors interrupting their vision. Through it though, each and everyone of them noticed the blurry outline of a body on the carpeted floor before the crisp fire burning in the hearth.
Sirius was the first to notice the familiarity of the apparent, unconscious person. How he could he not recognise the unruly black hair, the glasses -albeit askew on the person's face, possibly from his abrupt arrival- and the skinny, lanky body that didn't seem to thicken no matter how much the kid got fattened up at Hogwarts or at the Weasley's. As other slowly came to recognise the identity of the boy on the ground, Sirius felt his breath returning to him, yet the shock of the situation still left ihm somewhat breathless. With barely enough air, he gasped the name.
"Harry?"
A collective intake of breath seemed to pass through the room -after all, HArry wasn't supposed to be here, he should be in Surrey- but it was the reaction of the supposedly unconscious Harry -who turned out not to be as supposedly unconscious- that took everyone by surprise.
The second that his name had been spoke, or more accurately gasped, his eyes wihich had been firmly shut snapped open. In the blink of an eye, Harry had effortlessly flipped himself upon his feet -a move no one knew he was even capable of. He swiftly turned around to face the Order, his wand raised in a slight aim towards them ready to fire any spell, curse or jinx neccessary. His stance too screamed prepareness, slightly crouched or hunched as it were as if he might need to bolt on the flip of a hat. And his eyes, his usually bright, emerald eyes were clouded and drawn tight in suspiscion as he regarded them each with an almost wild, feral expression before settling on the most obvious threat, Albus Dumbledore who coincidentally was also standing at the front of the group.
Seconds ticked by, everything was moving so fast that it seemed as if time itself has stopped, but no one spoke as they all still seemed stunned at this strange turn of events. As the silence lasted, Sirius noticed other changes about Harry other than his eyes. His clothes, though his normal muggle attire of a shirt, jeans and sneakers were still present, had changes slightly. He wore a black jacket with several pockets and straps on them that almost seemed to be hding something. Then there were the fading bruises on the side of his face and reaching into his hairline, the fact that his hair seemed moist as if it had recently been wet and the dirt and sand covering his clothing.
"Harry?"
Albus' voice broke through the stunned crowd and Alastar Mood wasted no time in raising his own wand and stepping right next to the headmaster. Harry's reaction was instant as he moved his body in a slightly different position and angle clearly meant to cover both Dumbledore and Alastar as if he sensed the growing threat.
Sirius cursed the ridiculous thought. There wa sno threat here, not for Harry. This was his home. But a fleeting thought burst through his muffled mind, reminding him that Harry shouldn't be here, wouldn't even know where here is nor be able to get here. In other words, this couldn't possibly be Harry, could it?
Noticing everyone else following suit with drawing their wands, Sirius somewhat reluctantly raised his own too. Despite wanting it to be Harry, to have his godson here and safe, his rational mind -what was left of it after all these years at least- could not shake the knowledge that Harry couldn't possibly be here, couldn't possibly get here without someone of the Order bringing him here. This couldn't be Harry.
"Who are you?" Mood very nearly growled out the question, impatience at Albus' lack of command in the current situation seriously bothering him. The Potter-by lookalike regarded him almost curiously, bobbing his head sideways but there was an undeniable sadness in those eyes that unsettled him, something he'd never admit out loud of course. Something was off about this boy.
The tension in the room was reaching a point where it felt like the air was sucked out of the room, but no one moved or made any sound as they waited and anticipated either an attack or an answer. What they got was an answer, but nothing like they had expected.
"Mad-eye Moody, you're supposed to be dead."
end
I hope some of you are still somewhat in one piece after reading this, cause surely it must have hurt to read this. If you are detecting maybe a hint of insecurity from me, then fear not, you're not wrong. I really do feel insecure about my writing, maybe that's what's blocking me?
Anyway, if you want - no pressure whatsoever- please review.
Important note: This AU Harry is 17 years old, less than a month away from turning 18.