Chapter 1

It had been only a month since Harry had fought and defeated Voldemort amidst a ruined Hogwarts where many of his closest friends and companions lost their lives in the name of freedom from tyranny. The days since then have been difficult for the Boy Who Lived and in his weariness he decided to take a holiday into London on the advice of his most trusted friends, Ron and Hermione. Although Ginny pleaded with him to stay at the Weasleys during their time of grief, he knew some things needed to be sorted out on his own, in his own way.

10:25 O'clock in the morning on Platform 9 3/4, Harry apparated on the spot near a group of unaware muggles.

"I suppose this place is as good as any to start my holiday," Harry said to himself as he stood on the platform, staring reminiscently at the place where all his previous adventures began every year.

After taking a deep sigh, Harry took off from the train station towards downtown London. He felt aimless, but that wasn't anything new since his standoff with the greatest of all dark wizards.

Harry peered through into the various shops that lined the street, remembering the endless days and nights at the Dursleys. All the muggle contraptions he didn't give a second thought about while growing up were suddenly interesting for the first time. Really anything that could take him away from the wizarding world for a mere second gave him peace of mind.

Harry noticed a little girl with her mother walking on the opposite side of the street, tears streamed down her face as she looked back the other way to some point in the distance. A feeling of intense emptiness had hit him in the stomach and deep sadness engulfed him.

As he looked away, walking further down the street, passing the last shop, he noticed a very narrow alleyway with a faint glow coming from it. He peered down the alley and saw a pulsating sphere of light emanating in the distance, everything down that way seemed fuzzy as if his vision was impaired even with his glasses on.

"There must be some strange form of magic protecting this place," Harry muttered. Squinting, he walked cautiously down the narrow passage.

With every step the light seemed to remain a fixed blur - it appeared as if he hadn't moved any further towards it, but he moved quite a distance from the alleyway entrance. He started walking briskly and then broke out into a run. He felt something pulling him towards the light, losing any sense of caution. A soft voice whispered in his ear faintly as the light became brighter. His heart was pounding and sweat broke out on his face. In an instant Harry was overcome with complete darkness and the sensation of slowly falling backwards overtook him.


"Hey, are you okay?"

"I think he fell professor, but I'm not sure. I've never even seen him before."

"He looks like a 7th year to me, sir."

"Yes, I can take him to Madam Pomfrey when he wakes. There's no need to worry."

Harry opened his eyes to the shape of a girl kneeling over him. His head aching terribly.

"You're awake! I'm here to take you to the hospital wing," said an exasperated voice.

Harry could only groan as he tried to get up in his confusion.

"Here, let me help you," she said while grabbing his left arm. The dark shape near him tried to help him up, but he immediately fell back down in terrible pain.

The mysterious girl gasped and then screamed. "Get help! There's an injured student who needs medical attention!"

Just before Harry fell unconscious again, he realized how familiar her voice was to him.


Seven days passed since the incident in the alley in London. Harry lay sleeping in the hospital wing tended to occasionally by Madam Pomfrey. Sitting in a chair next to him, the girl who tried to help him was looking at him intently, caressing his hair, staring at his lightning scar in fascination. At that moment, Harry lazily began to open his eyes. This time he could see her better, as she was sitting much closer to him. He noticed her round, black rimmed glasses, her straight, messy black hair that stretched down to her shoulders, and...there was something else. His eyes opened wide suddenly as he moved his hands across her forehead to remove her hair slightly. She was startled and fell backwards in her chair. Harry got up and saw it. She had a lightning scar on her forehead just like his. He was awestruck.

Getting up, the girl with the scar bolted towards Harry and pushed him down on the bed. "You've got some explaining to do," she demanded.

"I should say the same for you," Harry retorted. "For starters, who are you and how did you get that scar?"

She sighed, picked up the chair, and sat down. "My name is Harriet Potter, but most people call me Hattie. I'm surprised you haven't heard the story. Voldemort...he gave me this scar the night he killed my parents."

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. How could someone exactly like him exist, unless, they're an imposter. It just doesn't make sense. Voldemort was dead. The war is over. What could anyone gain from this trickery and how could anyone be fooled by it.

"I think it's your turn to answer for yourself." Hattie said to Harry impatiently.

A few moments passed before Harry replied, "My name is...Harry Potter. My scar was also given to me by Voldemort the night my parents died."

There was complete silence for a while before Hattie said, "I saw you apparate in front of me earlier. In the corridor leading to the Gryffindor dormitories. But it's impossible to apparate to or from the grounds of Hogwarts. I don't understand how any of this can be real, but I believe you when you say you're 'Harry Potter'. At least, that you think you are. It think its best we speak to headmaster Snape."

Harry gave a sudden twitch. "Severus Snape? He's alive?!" Harry exclaimed in bewilderment.

"Well, yes. He's been headmaster for the last 30 years," Hattie replied with a concerned expression. "I think we should visit him immediately."

Harry was hesitant. He didn't know what to think. Perhaps his encounter with the light in the alleyway did more to him than he realized. If Snape is alive and has been serving as headmaster of Hogwarts for three decades, maybe Hattie really is who she says she is, impossible as it seems.

There was one thing Harry knew no matter what. Until he could figure out what had happened to him. He would not be visiting Snape, dead or alive.