First thing I'll say is this… I was Harry James Potter, son of James Fleamont Potter and Lillian Jessica Potter nee Evans. And this is how I became Hadrien Blaire Potter, son of Webster Henry Potter and Rachel Anne Potter nee Browning and how Ronald Bilius Weasley became my younger brother Ronson Maitland Potter.
It started with my best mate Ron and I in a dungeon.
We'd been captured by Death-Eaters and thrown into a dungeon to wait for the head Snake himself, while our friend Mione had been taken by Bellatrix Lestrange and was being tortured. We could hear her screams. We were wandless and weapon-less but we were determined not to leave her. We tricked the useless wizard that was the guard, into opening the gate into dungeons and an elf-ally stunned him from behind, then we stormed into the ballroom, there was duelling for a bit, but Bellatrix had our friend with a wand at her throat, we surrendered knowing that the head snake about to be called. But just as a Death-Eater had his hand over his Mark to call old Snakey, there was a squeaking noise. We all looked up, every one of us in that room, looked up to see an elf undoing the clasp that held a chandelier in place.
When the chandelier and the chain parted, the light fell and Mione went one way, Bellatrix another. It was enough for us, Ron and I darted to the closest pair of DE's and pulled their wands, and ours, from them and disarmed the rest of the DE's . We gathered around the elf, I knew we couldn't apparate out, due to the wards, but elves don't apparate, they pop and the only wards that can keep out an elf are Azkaban. The elf popped us out, just as Bellatrix threw a knife at us.
Apparating by elf is very different to wizard apparating, it doesn't feel like you're being twisted and pulled through a straw, like wizard apparition does. Elf popping twists everything around you, in a spiral, everything you can see twists in that spiral and when the twisting ends, you're not always in the same position, relative to the earth or a floor, that you started out as.
I hit the sand almost horizontal. From about four feet in the air. When I caught my breath and looked around, I saw a beach, flat and empty, it looked like an early morning low tide, too. I called for my friends but no one answered, not knowing where I was and who could see me, I figured that casting a patronus was not a good idea. I had no idea where the others had apparated to and I knew that they would have little idea where I was. So, I decided that my best course of action was to apparate to somewhere we'd discussed going.
There was a cottage on the beach near Tinworth, being used as a safe-house. But I was nervous, and a bit scared, so I decided I had better be a little cautious. I did apparate to the cottage, but not before I covered myself with my invisibility cloak and a few minutes worth of disillusionment and notice-me-not charms.
It was a good thing I did. The cottage was occupied and not by the people I expected to be there. I watched them for a few minutes, before I figured out who one of them was.
And let me tell you... that just the possibility… that she was who I thought she was? That scared me worse than the thought of having to face Snake-face. Alone and unarmed.
I quickly apparated to our next contact point, but that too was occupied. I saw Ron and his brothers, but not the Ron I knew, this was a younger Ron. We'd only just scraped together enough food to celebrate Ron's eighteenth birthday and now here I was, looking at a not-yet five year old Ron. It scared me… I'm not afraid to admit it, I was scared spitless.
My next stop was the house I'd lived in with my Aunt, Uncle and cousin. I'm sure you're familiar with number four Privet Drive, just like I am. There's a park a few minutes walk from Privet Drive, on Magnolia Road, it has an underpass from the park that goes under Magnolia Road to Wisteria Walk and Privet Drive and that's where I was headed. Still under notice-me-nots, I apparated there and made for Privet Drive, I'd just reached Wisteria Walk when I saw Petunia, Dudley and… me, walking towards me.
I couldn't handle that and apparated away, blindly, Hermione's words echoing in my head. 'Bad things happen to wizards that meddle with time, Harry.'
Either I'd time travelled or I was going nuts. Neither option was all that welcome, I buried my heads in my arms and cried, I sobbed my eyes out! I was alone, I was tired, I was hungry, all I have with me was a pair of wands I snatched off of some DE's and a mokeskin pouch, that was it. When I got over my crying bout I looked to see where I'd ended up.
The shrieking shack. The places our subconscious takes us, huh?
I tipped out the contents of the pouch, I guess I felt I should do a stock-take of my supplies. A map, a piece of a broken mirror, a broken locket, a snitch, part of a letter, a torn photograph and a broken wand. Add to that my invisibility cloak and the pair of DE wands, one that felt okay and one that burnt my hands whenever I touched it. Plus the clothes I was wearing.
That was the total sum of my possessions. Not even a single, solitary knut to my name.
I needed money, clothes, food, accommodation, just to start with. But if I'd time travelled? If I had... I'd need a new identity and a way to keep myself hidden. Can't have a five year old Harry Potter and an, almost, eighteen year old Harry Potter both floating around, now can we? Plus I figured that maybe I could take advantage of time travelling and destroy the last Horcruxes, we were only missing two, something of Ravenclaw's and something of Hufflepuff's. Unfortunately we didn't know what they were or where to find them, Mione suspected that Bellatrix, might have one in her vault, but that was my only lead.
I knew I couldn't change anything else that I remembered as happening, so that meant I had to hide myself, somehow, for the next thirteen, or so, years.
I needed money.
I needed an untraceable wand.
I needed clothes.
I needed an identity.
I lifted my head and grinned, I knew where to get almost all of that in one go. Yeah, identity was iffy, but it was still worth a shot.
No, not Gringotts. Hogwarts.
Yes, I said Hogwarts.
I needed the Room of Requirements. That was the answer to all my problems or at least, most of them. I left the shack and headed for the secret passage that came out under the Whomping Willow. It took me almost an hour to get to the seventh floor of the castle. You'd be proud of me, I pranked the entire school, Dumbledore and McGonagall, included. It was midday and I was starving, it'd been two, no… three days, since we'd eaten last.
The Great Hall's doors were open and it was just too much temptation. I levitated a tray of sandwiches to the staff table and floated one to each Professor's plate, then a jug of pumpkin juice to top up their goblets. While everyone's attention was on the staff table, I tossed a notice-me-not on a second tray of sandwiches and floated it to me. Not even Dumbledore saw me, I made sure of it, I stayed hidden behind a statue outside the hall, I couldn't see all the house tables, but I could see the staff one. Then, while they were all ranting over Peeves latest prank, I headed for the stairs and the seventh floor.
I got as far as the third floor before I had to dodge a group of students. I tossed a notice-me-not at a door and ducked into the room behind it. There were shelves, lots and lots of shelves, they were only a few inches in height and covered all the walls. It took me almost a minute to realise that the shelves held wands. Hundreds, maybe thousands of wands were lined up, handgrips pointing out.
I was using a wand that had chosen someone else, someone that I didn't like or trust. So… I ran my hands over the wands, touching each one in turn, hoping that one would chose me, like Ollivander said, 'the wand choses the wizard'. There was one that liked me, not nearly as much as my broken wand had, but still more than the one I'd taken from the DE. I put the DE's wand in my pouch, I wasn't going to risk it being found before Ollivander had even sold it.
After that it was just a case of having to wait until classes resumed and I could start moving again, while I waited, I ate a couple of sandwiches and poked around in a barrel that was beside the door. I found a forearm wand holster that fit and strapped it on, I put my new-ish wand in it and practiced for a few minutes. I'd never had a holster before and I wanted to make sure that I knew how to use it, how to get at my wand, how to hide it, that sort of thing.
With students back in class, I got to the Room of Requirement without any further problems. I summoned the Room of Lost Things and opened the door. To be met by what was probably a thousand years worth of junk.
My first thought was to summon all the ʛalleons, sickles and knuts. But then I though a bit more and I wondered… would there even be any there, wouldn't the house-elves have added them to the Hogwarts funds?
I slumped back against the wall and dropped my head in my hands, I was back to crying, again.
A scratching noise made me lift my head. Where there'd been a pile of chairs and a birdcage a moment before, now there was a freestanding chalkboard between me and the piles of discarded objects.
A chalkboard that writing was starting to appear on.
Who are you?
I looked at it, I remembered Ron's sister writing in a cursed book, so there was no way in hell, I was writing on a cursed chalkboard. And apparently, I said that out loud.
I do not require you to write you answers, wizard. I ask again who are you?
Huh, how about that?
"Give me your name, chalkboard and I might give you mine." I said, repeating one of Hermione's favourite lines from a book we'd found in Godric's Hollow, at christmas.
I was Gwendolyn Hogwarts when I lived. Now, I am the heart and soul of this school.
"Hogwarts? Holy hell, Hogwarts had been a real person?"
I was. I was the adopted daughter of Salazar Slytherin and the reason he loathed muggles and muggleborns so much.
"Why?" It might not be relevant, but it was interesting and maybe I could use it against Voldemort when I faced him, next.
In my sixteenth year, Salazar and Godric signed a betrothal contract between myself and Godric's son Andemon. Less than a week before we were to wed, a pair of muggle-born wizards kidnapped me, they took me to a muggle village, I was beaten, raped and tortured before Sal and 'Dric rescued me. I died from my injuries.
"Oh gods above, you… I'm sorry." Oh god, the poor girl, my stomach twisted in sympathy.
As was I, wizard. Now you know who I am. Who are you?
"My name is Harry Potter and something happened and… I think I've time travelled." I answered this time, I was in the Room of Requirements and I figured that if I 'required' the chalkboard to tell the truth, the Room would see that it did. In that case, I had nothing to hide and a hell of a lot to gain.
Why do you think that, Master Potter?
"This morning… this morning for me, anyway… was some time in April 1998… Just after Easter, I think… But in the last few hours, I've seen a mate, one that went through all of my Hogwarts years with me, now he's little more than a toddler. He was eighteen a few weeks ago, we scraped together enough food for a proper dinner for him. And the Dumbledore from my time, he's been dead for over a year, but right now, he's down stairs in the Great Hall." I wriggled my shoulder against the wall and slid down it, to sit on the floor. "I don't know what to do. Dumbledore gave me a job, I have to destroy Voldemort's Horcruxes, but he didn't tell me what they were or where to find them all, or even how to destroy them." I turned sideways to the wall, let my head fall forward and kept talking. It was cathartic, just telling something or someone what had happened, knowing that because I 'required' that only the truth be told here, the board couldn't lie and neither could I. Who knows, maybe not being able to lie would help me work out where the missing Horcruxes were and how to destroy them. "I destroyed one in the chamber of secrets with a basilisk fang." I recited. "Dumbledore destroyed another in his office, but I don't know how. We used a sword to destroy the locket, but…"
Horcruxes are dangerous, young Master, Hogwarts wrote.
"Don't you think I know that? One almost killed my best mate's sister, bloody thing set a basilisk on me, almost got me killed, too. If is weren't for Fawkes crying on me, I'd be dead." My response was sharp and more than a little annoyed, this was not the help I needed.
Then you know that having them in the same place at the same time can allow the soul within them to unit, if each piece is not destroyed separately?
"Yeah. Hermione said something like that." I kind of wished I'd paid more attention.
Good. You do realise that you are in the room of requirement and that I… and the gift that founders bestowed upon me… can give you what you require?
"Yeah. I spent a huge part of my fifth year in here, teaching an underground DADA class."
Do you understand that items you require me to produce cannot leave this space?
"Yeah, it's a bummer, but yeah."
Do you know that if you require an item and alter it once I have produced it, it is not longer the exact same item as the item I provided?
"Uh…?" Say what, now?
And once it is no longer the same item, it can leave this room?'
"No…" No, I didn't know that, I was sure that would come in handy, soon enough.
And you know that there is one of those abominations here, in this very space?
"No, yes, I…? There is?" We'd suspected there was at Hogwarts, but I'd though it would be more likely to be in the Chamber of Secrets than anywhere else.
There is.
"Brilliant." Now, I only had to search through a thousand years worth of stuff and then keep it hidden for another thirteen years.
Then I would suggest master potter, that you require that Horcruxe and a way to destroy it.
"But… I can't! I time travelled, I can't change anything! We've already destroyed three. I can't change anything." I objected, I still very clearly remembered Hermione's lecture on 'bad things happen to those that meddle with time, Harry'. It was fast becoming a motto that I knew I was going to have to live by.
Tell me everything… everything that happened to you in the last 12 hours, leave nothing out, no matter how small, insignificant or unimportant you may think it to be.
For the next hour I talked, I told Hogwarts everything. Destroying the locket, being captured, escaping from the snatchers at Malfoy manor, the knife flying towards us. I told her about seeing Ron, seeing myself and of apparating blind and realising I was in the shack. Of using the tunnel under Whomping Willow and pranking the staff, to cover stealing a tray of sandwiches. Of finding the lost wand room and taking a wand and holster. Of my very rough idea of having to hide for the next thirteen years, just to keep the timeline intact. And how badly I needed help to do that.
I see. Hogwarts wrote. I understand more now. The combined magic of wizards, elves and goblins. An injured elf, an injured goblin, an injured witch and/or wizard. A very powerful combination, that is. Allow me to seek confirmation.
Confirmation from who? I wondered to myself, as a humming sound filled the air. It was a little like the engine noise that you might hear in a bus or a car, a muted rumble, but still there. I ate another sandwich and summoned a goblet, a quick but useless cleaning charm and I put it back down again, it was still filthy and needed to be washed by hand. Instead I conjured a goblet and used Aguamenti to fill it, I had to do that three times before I felt like I'd drank enough.
The humming fell silent and the scratching sound began again. Hogwarts was writing.
I've conferred with the few other magical buildings and the Ministry Building was most helpful.
"That's a first." I snorted.
Not the Ministry, but the Building itself. The section of that building that houses the Department of Mysteries states that there has been a major disturbance in the local time-stream. From what myself, the Tower of London, the Ministry building and particularly, the Department of Mysteries, can decipher… the distorted magic of injured elves, goblin and wizards combined to create a time-stream split.
"A split?" I asked.
Yes. Think of like a… I was going to say a fork in the road, but that's not right. Think of a path alongside a river, you're walking upstream along this path and suddenly the path collapses under your feet, you fall into the river and are washed back downstream. Now with a time turner, when you climb from the river you are back where you started from, you can't change anything you did that leads up to where you fell into the river, the path collapse is still there, all you can do is plan for a way around it. Understand?
"Yes. I get it."
Good. But what has happened to you is different. You have entered a second stream. One that goes in a different direction, the land is the same, the path is the same, but the collapse hasn't happened, there. Your original time-stream, according to the Department of Mysteries… it's shattered.
"Shattered?!"
Yes. This is not your native time-stream.
"But what will happen to everyone there? Then?" Oh, god, Luna, Neville, Ginny… the list went on.
Nothing. That time stream has ceased to exist.
"They're dead?"
No. They no longer exist, that time-stream is gone, dissolved, only those who were actually involved in the disruption will remember anything from that time-stream. To anyone else this is all they know or will ever know, unless you tell them.
"But what about the others? Ron? Hermione? Griphook? Dobby? Where are they right now?" I wondered if I should be looking for them. How would I even find them?
Not here, yet.
"What do you mean… not here, yet? Didn't they have arrived when I did?"
No. Allow me to explain a little more. When that other time-stream was shattered, each of you were thrown back into the past, but also sideways into a separate time-stream, this time-stream. Starting at a point where the most powerful of you, experienced their first accidental magic.
"But… how? I saw a little me."
Yes, all of you will have a counterpart here… perhaps not the goblin or the elf, their magic is different, they may have merged with their local counterpart, I do not know and it cannot been known until they arrive. Your counterparts were here in this time-stream, before you were thrust into it, they are the originals. Each of you were slotted into this time-stream, at points where the most powerful of you rattled the local time-stream's stability, causing tiny fractures, just barely large enough for Lady Magic to insert you, one of you at a time, into this time-stream. Otherwise, like the rest of your time-stream, you would have been lost.
"How do I find out… if the others are here yet?" I demanded.
They're not.
"How do you know?"
Because… the names you have given me… of their local counterparts, yours is the most powerful. Which makes you the most powerful of you travellers. Which in turn, means that you would have to be the first to arrive.
"Oh."
Yes, oh. You have been thrown the furthest back in time…
"Who's likely to be next after me? And how do I find them? And when?"
Next would be… the other male.
Ron. His name is Ron.
Ron. He will be next to arrive, but there is no way of knowing when, it will depend on the local Potter's next accidental magic outburst. You wouldn't happen to remember what they were and when they occurred, do you?
"No… I remember my hair regrowing after Aunt Petunia cut it all off, shrinking a jumper, apparating onto the school roof and turning my teacher's hair blue, but I think… it's too early for those. I'm not sure." I squinted as I thought about it.
Not to worry. Hogwarts wrote. We can keep an ear out. After Ron, the female is next, power-wise, she is not much weaker than he is, but still weaker. An accidental outburst, something that affects other people, may well be all that's needed, to see each of them inserted into this time-stream.
"Like I said, I turned my teachers hair blue. Would that be large enough? I think that happened about late '86. Oh and her name is Hermione." I replied.
It is currently Tuesday the 20th of March 1984, so you may have up to two and a half years to wait, before then or even more.
"Damn." I swore under my breath for a few minutes.
I feel your best path is to destroy the abominations and establish an identity and history, for yourself mostly, but getting ready for your friends would be a sound move.
"Later, after Mione gets here. She and Ron can work that out." I didn't need to worry about that. "Ron and Mione sort out the details and the strategies, I just see that they happen." I added.
Not this time, Master Potter. This time... you need to get a background in place before your allies arrive, you may have to wait a considerable time before they get here.
"Bugger." I huffed. "Right… the Horcruxes first. Let's get snake-face dealt with, so I never have to think on him again."
Very well. Call for basilisk venom, enough to destroy a dozen Horcruxes, in individual containers and a pedestal with basin that is impervious to that venom.
I took a deep breath before doing just that, a basin very similar to Dumbledore's pensieve appeared and beside that a delicate table with a phial stand, holding the dozen phials I'd asked for. The shimmering of the venom inside the phials turned my stomach slightly, or maybe that was just the memory of being bitten by the basilisk itself? I didn't want to think about it.
Good now call for the Horcruxes currently in this room, then after it is destroyed, each of the others, one at a time.
The first of the Horcruxes appeared and I levitated the tiara-like thing into the basin and poured the venom over it, waiting for the wailing scream to burst out and then die down before moving. Moments later, I realised that I hadn't planned enough. What was I supposed to do with a venom-coated Horcruxe-less container?
"Ah, a little help, please?" I asked. "What would you suggest happens to the Horcruxes now? I don't want them and I'm not sure you do either. I mean they're coated in basilisk venom, do you really want that in your halls?" I explained.
No, I do not. I would suggest a second basin of Purifying potion. And a series of specimen jars of the same potion to store the Horcruxes in. Then once the Horcruxe has been removed and it's empty container moved to the second basin, banish the contents of the first basin, that way you start with fresh venom for each Horcruxe.
"Yeah." I agreed, nodding. "Then each jar can be dealt with, as its to need be."
Exactly.
A few seconds and a second table appeared, this one larger and heavier. A solid stone basin at one end, filled with a slightly glowing blue/silver liquid, that for some reason reminded me of a patronus, and a series of heavy crystal jars at the other. I nodded and after a deep breath, I flicked my new wand and lifted the tiara free of the venom and gave it a little bounce up and down, just to get the excess venom off it. A twitch of my hand and the thing swung over and into the Purifying potion, a few seconds and a swirl, to ensure that the potion reached all of the tiara and I floated it free and into a jar, carefully sealing the jar afterwards.
Well done, Master Potter. Next closest is… the ring. You are a descendant of the Peverells, will you be keeping the ring and it's stone?
"I hadn't known that. Um? Do you think I should?" Here I was asking a stone castle about keeping a stone ring. Gods, magic was weird. Amazing, but weird.
Were I in your place? I would. Simply keep it from hands that may abuse it. The Headmaster seeks the stone, desperately. He wishes redemption for the death of his sister, not knowing whether it was his wand or his lover's that cast the Killing Curse.
"Dumbledore cast an Unforgivable?" I gasped.
He did. As a young man Albus Dumbledore was as vulnerable to darkness and coercion as any other. Sweet kisses and honeyed words can tempt the best of men and Gellert Grindelwald was, above all, a beautiful man. Seductive, alluring, challenging. An innocent and naïve Albus Dumbledore stood no chance against a worldly Gellert.
"The Headmaster knew Grindelwald?" I could barely get the words out.
Yes, for a time, the two were lovers.
"Holy shit!" I mouthed the words, but nothing came out. Dumbledore and Grindelwald? Lovers? I felt like my broom had done Wronski feint, without me. I'm not sure I'd have been more surprised if I'd been told that I was Snake-face's grandson. Maybe, but not likely.
Master Potter? The ring?
I huffed and puffed and shook my head, trying to get over the shock.
"The ring? No. I think… I think I should keep it, in that case. Leaving it for mini-me means that it will end up in my-his vault and Dumbledore has m-his key."
Agreed.
And I watched as the ring appeared and settled into the venom filled basin. A screech and a cloud of darkness bubbled up from the ring, but dissolved before it cleared the venom.
I flicked my wand and the ring danced it's way into the Purifying potion and then into a crystal jar.
Then a familiar locket appeared.
"I have that." I said. "It's already been destroyed." My hand went to my mokeskin pouch.
No, you have your time-stream's version, not the local version. Hogwarts reminded me.
"Oops, forgot that, sorry."
Not at all, master Potter. There are not many that would not struggle with you current situation, you are coping quite well.
"Thanks." I tried to smile as the locket and chain were submerged.
Another scream and cloud and the locket was moved to the second basin and then to a jar and sealed. Then it was the turn of a cup, we hadn't known anything about the cup or the tiara, we'd known there were two items, but not what they were, I wasn't even certain they were the same in both time-streams. After the cup came a familiar book, it's pages fluttered in the venom and it sat in the purifying potion the longest, before being moved to the largest of the crystal jars.
"Is that it?" I asked.
No, unfortunately not. The next requires a little explanation and preparation.
"I don't like the sound of that." I grumbled.
No. The night that your parents were killed, your mother cast a very old, very powerful charm and Voldemort, or Tom Riddle was he was born, inadvertently played into her magical net, when he tried to get her to step aside. That reinforced her charm and meant that when he killed her, he locked the charm with his own magic, making him your magical guardian. When he then fired a Killing Curse at you, his own magic rebelled. No wizard can kill those under their own protection, not without it having violent ramifications. His own magic separated his soul, such as was left of it, from his body, causing it to split even further.
I shuddered at what Hogwarts was telling me, but so far it made more sense than any other explanation I'd been given.
When the two parts of his soul exploded from his body, one part was blown close enough to sense the magical contract between your mother and Riddle, it sought to uphold the contract. It connected to you and is what the Dumbledore in your time-stream, actually told you was your mother's magic. It was not. It was the fractured part of Riddle's own soul that was trying to fulfil a magical contract, it was the protection, not your mother. Do not misunderstand me, your mother… Lily Potter was a brilliant witch and she did what she had to, to see that you lived.
"In a way Dumbledore was right, though. Mum did the magic that protected me, it was just that used snake-face's own soul to do it." I tried to put in prospective, but it was hard. Dumbledore had always said it was my mother's love that protected me and in a way he was right… but merlin was he wrong too!
In a way, but…
"Yeah, but…" I sighed. "So, that means that I'm the last Horcruxe. How do we get it out? I don't fancy taking a swim in basilisk venom."
Ah, but you're not thinking of where you are, Master Potter.
"The Room of Requirement? I don't know what to ask for."
No, not what I meant. I was meaning the differing time-streams. The Horcruxe you bore was a tiny fragment, a little over 1.5% of his original soul-mass. It was not strong enough to survive the displacement from your native time-stream and the integration into this time-stream. Hogwarts produced a full-length mirror in front of me, a spotlight on my forehead and scar, or... on where my scar wasn't.
"Oh thank you!" I swayed in relief. No scar would make it so much easier for me to blend in.
Don't thank me, you still have to deal with your local counterpart.
"Mini-me?" I whispered, horrified.
Yes. Please remember that I can provide what you require. My suggestions include, in no set order…
· A calming draught, you're going to need to be calm and have a steady hand
· A crystal scalpel, you will have to literally cut open your local counterpart's scar to expose the Horcruxe's capsule.
· A crystal pipette, you will need it to place the venom directly onto the Horcruxe's capsule
· Phoenix tears, they will be needed to neutralise the venom after the Horcruxe has been released from your counterpart
· Dressings and cloths to clean the wound and remove any excess blood. It wouldn't do to return 'mini-you', as you call him, covered in blood.
· Mini-you, as you can't do anything without him
"No, I can't." I huffed a laugh, who knew Hogwarts had a sense of humour?
However, I would wait for a bit, right now the child is in public.
"Yeah, let's not cause a Statute incident." I agreed. "So, um…? What about the bit that got away? Can Mini-me expect to have to deal with it, in first year, like I did?"
No. Without anchors 1.5% is not enough soul-mass to sustain a connection to the living world, it will take a few days and maybe a storm or two, but the wraith will dissipate.
"Good to know." I sighed. Once done with the Horcruxe in mini-me, it was all over. I tilted my head, trying to remember where I'd got the phrase 'mini-me' from. I was shaking my head, then it dawned on me. The spy-spoof movie, that Mione had dragged me to, after Ron left us. Austin… something.
Master Potter?
"Ma'am?" I responded.
What do you want to do?
"For what?"
For the rest of your life? Riddle will no longer be an issue. So given the choice, what will you do with your life?
"You know? It's odd, maybe, that I'm standing here. In this room, I mean. I used this Room to train the DA, but the last time I was here, it was like this, full of all this forgotten stuff and all I wanted to do, was to get in and sort through it. Mrs Weasley used a charm that told her how the owners of an item used it and when I asked her, she taught me a number of charms that I could use on old clothes, on furniture, on pictures and the like. Not to identify the owner, but to identify how an item was used and for restoration."
Identify, in what way?
"Take these brooms?" I pointed at a pair of nearby brooms and whispered the chant Mrs Weasley had spend an entire weekend teaching me. "Quaestas et practicar usus, visus." An image appeared of one broom, gently swirling in the air, but the second one, twisted and turned sharply, diving down and rising quickly. "See the first broom was lightly used, for fun or by someone that wasn't confident, but the second was a quidditch broom and pushed hard."
I see, but what does that have to do with what you want to do with your life?
"Given the chance to do anything I wanted, anything at all?" I paused, I'd never told anyone this, not even Ron or Mione. "I'd like to run a second-hand shop, like Dervish and Banges, but a little more family-friendly." I finished on a whisper.
Really?
"Yes, ma'am."
Then I just might be able to help you. But before we get into that… who are you going to be?
"I don't know. I've never been anyone but me."
Who are you? The boy in the cupboard under the stairs? The Boy-Who-Lived? The youngest quidditch player in a century? The Boy-Who-Lied? The Ministry's Undesirable Number 1? Or someone else?
"Put like that? I'd much rather be someone else, but that would mean giving up who I am, giving up my parents. I'm not sure I can do that."
What if… if you didn't have to give them up, only change how you are related to them?
"I don't understand."
James Potter has a brother, he's older than James by quite a few years, but he's a squib. He was identified as a squib after not receiving his Hogwarts letter. Your grandfather, Fleamont, was a good man, but the Potter name had taken a massive hit, when his grandfather, Henry, had married a muggleborn, it lost them their seat in the Wizengamot and their ranking as a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. So, your grandfather sent his squib son to the muggle world, he fostered the boy with one of his muggle cousins. The day your father was born, your grandfather had him tested, the Potter name had to survive. Thankfully, your father tested as quite powerful, magically, otherwise, he may also have joined his brother in the muggle world.
"I have an Uncle, a blood related Uncle?"
You do.
"Then why didn't Dumbledore send me to live with him?" I demanded.
Two reasons. Firstly, Dumbledore quite likely thought, that as it was your mother's sacrifice, that her blood was needed to anchor the wards. Second, it's unlikely that he even knew about Webster.
"Webster? His name is Webster?" I had an Uncle. I couldn't get my head around it, it was more surreal than everything I'd been through, today. I had an Uncle.
It is. If you wish to retain the family you have already, just alter your apparent connection to them, perhaps asking Webster and his wife to adopt you, would work?
"Adopt me? How? How am I even supposed to contact him? How do I…? What do I tell him? Why would he help me?" I was the son of the person that lost him, his family.
As I have stated a number of times, this is the Room of Requirement. I swear I could read the exasperation that Hogwarts felt. If you require it, I will provide it. Whether that is a table, a basin of basilisk venom, Riddle's Horcruxes, 'mini-you', a permanent adoption potion or a door that connects to Webster's location.
"Right, I keep forgetting, sorry. I'm just not used to having options." I hummed. "I think I need to write up a list." A second chalkboard appeared. "Thanks." I picked up the chalk and began to write words. Id. Webster. Ron. Mione. Sirius. Wormtail. Shop. Money. Home. Wand.
And so it went on.
Master Potter? Your 'mini-you' is in his cupboard, asleep.
"Great. Can you bring him here, but keep him asleep, please? And I think I should have a table that's just for him." A table appeared, a miniature version of me curled up on it, sound asleep, it sat parallel to the table holding the Purifying potion and adjacent to the venom basin, the three forming a U-shape. "Good, now, over here? A table with all the things that I'm going to need, to do this." The idea of cutting into mini-me's head was already turning my stomach, what was I going to be like when I actually had to do it?
"Can you make sure he stays asleep, when I cut into his head?" The only way I was going to be able to do this, was if I though of him as a separate person to me.
I can and will. A smaller phial appeared on the table nearest me. Drink that, it will calm you.
"How can you provide that? I didn't ask for it." But I drank it, anyway. It only took seconds to start working, for my mind to settle and my hands to still.
But you did ask for a table with everything I considered you would need. I considered that potion was needed. Was I wrong?
"No, you weren't. Thank you." I smiled and for the first time that day, my smile was genuine.
Are you ready?
"As ready as I'm ever going to be." I responded.
I rolled Mini-me onto his back, doing my best to ignore the bruises. A towel was laid across his forehead to hold his hair out of the way. Then I laid out the tools that Hogwarts had provided and got them ready for use. The pipette was placed beside an opened phial of venom. The phial of phoenix tears lay next to them, along with a stack of dressings and the scalpel.
"Alright." I huffed. "Here we go."
I lifted the scalpel and carefully cut into the scar, putting barely enough pressure behind the blade to cut the skin, but the crystal blade sliced cleanly through the scar tissue. Blood welled up quickly and I grabbed a dressing, pressing it to the scar I looked to see if I'd cut deep enough to reach the Horcruxe's capsule.
"Thank God." I whispered, when I saw the silvery surface.
I quickly wiped the blood away again, picked up the pipette and sucked up as much venom as the pipette would hold. I really hoped I wouldn't need to use it all, there was enough there to kill half of Hogwarts' current student population.
One… Two… Three… I was just about to put a fourth drop, when the silver capsule split, but the inky cloud didn't leave, it just writhed around on itself, so that fourth drop went straight into the capsule. And I stepped back quickly. The greasy, inky cloud burst upwards, a skull-like face visible in it's depths, just like the locket, when Ron stabbed it. As soon as the cloud faded and the noise died, I snatched up the phoenix tear phial and literally emptied it into the wound.
As I watched, the skin knitted itself back together and when I wiped Mini-me's forehead with a fresh dressing, the blood and the tears wiped away, leaving clear, blemish free skin.
"Oh, wow." I sat back and studied him.
He was me, but he wasn't going to be any more. He was Harry and I was to be someone new. But he still had to go back to the Dursleys and that sucked.
"He has to go back, doesn't he?" I asked, knowing what he was going back to.
Yes. Hogwarts wrote. And quickly.
"How do I get him out of there? And permanently?"
You know how.
"Pettigrew." I sighed.
Yes.
"I don't suppose I can require Pettigrew in a cage to be handed to the Aurors, can I?"
No. The closest I can come to that, is Pettigrew and a separate cage, or two cages and you can move him from one to the other.
"Something I require, but then I alter it?" I asked for confirmation.
Exactly.
"First off let's get Harry back, before anyone notices he's been gone… Will they notice he's been gone? Will they notice the scar's gone?" It suddenly occurred to me that no scar could be an issue.
No. Once we deal with the cleansed Horcruxes, I can… encourage Dumbledore to think that the destruction of Riddle's body, the individual fragments of his soul couldn't retain indefinitely, that over time the connections to their containers decayed and the fragments were released. There's an old tome that implies this and I'll push him to read it, then send Trelawney a dream, she will tell the old man and as you're the only Horcruxe he knows of with surety, he will scurry off to… Surrey, was it? Scurry off to Surrey to test the theory… and Mini-you with a scar-free face will just confirm what the tome says.
"Ah…? Question?" I grimaced, I hated not understanding.
Yes?
"What's a tome?"
A tome is an ancient type of book, Master Potter. My library holds many tomes, both old and new.
"How do you get an ancient book, that's new?"
A tome is a TYPE of book. It's to do with the way it's made and what it contains. Most family Grimoires are tomes.
"Okay, got it. Type of book, not age of book." I nodded, that made more sense. "Alright. So, Mini-me, he's Harry and I'm going to be someone else, right? But for now, let's get him back." I blinked as, even though I was expecting it, the young not-me-anymore vanished. "Thanks."
You are welcome, Master Potter.
"So, snake-face is done. Mini-me… Harry… is Horcruxe-free. Now, I get to deal with everything else. I need a new iden-… Are you sure my time-stream is gone? That there's nothing for me to go back to?" I suddenly felt alone, like I'd never done before.
I am. I am sorry, but there's simply nothing there, it's almost like it was never there to begin with. Perhaps… perhaps that time-stream was only there to bring you to the point where you are now.
"Is that possible?"
Strange things happen when magic is involved.
"Isn't that the truth?" I grinned. In my mind I was seeing dragons, ghosts and a three-headed dog that guarded a life-size semi-intelligent chess-set. "So a new identity? And you think that… Webster…" I wasn't going to call him Uncle, not if he was going to adopt me, "will help?"
There's little harm in asking. If he says no, I can remove the memory of your conversation and he will go back to his life, non the wiser.
"Huh. That's true, I forgot… again." I huffed a laugh. "Alright, how do you suggest I contact him?" I paused. "And what do I say?"
My recommendation is to tell him everything… he is at home, both he and his wife, they have returned home from work, but have yet to begin preparation for a meal, currently they are reading in a sitting room. Have a door created that opens into that room. I would suggest knocking to get their attention, do not leave the Room, if the door shuts behind you, it will not open again and you will have to travel by road, back to my castle, before you could access this room again. I would also suggest telling them, everything, the more they know, the better they will understand your situation, the better they understand, the more likely they are to agree to help. After all, I can remove the conversation if they refuse.
I thought about it for a few moments. But really, what did I have to loose? If they refused, I was in no worse a position than I was currently. I absently wondered, were they Hogwarts only options for me?
"Do it, please." I directed. "And I think we can get rid of most of this stuff, just leave a small table with the Horcruxe jars, the rest can go back wherever you got it from."
The venom basin and it's pedestal blinked out of sight, followed quickly by the large table I'd used as an operating table for Mini-me. The heavy table that the Purifying potion basin sat on, also vanished, but the jars holding the Horcruxes simply floated over to the delicate little table that had earlier held the phial stand and phials of venom, that were also gone. In the place of the operating table a door appeared. It was freestanding, having 'legs' that extended out to the sides, to support it, but other than that? It looked like a door I'd have expect to see in Aunt Petunia's house.
Simple, clean lines and very clearly muggle.
I took a few deep breaths, I was struggling with the idea of having an Uncle. My head said he's family, my blood, but my heart said, no, he's a stranger. But I needed that stranger, I needed him to help me, to adopt me, but I didn't want to live with him. I didn't want him to be my family. I didn't want him to replace my family. Oh Gods, talk about conflicted.
I lifted a hand and rapped my knuckles on the timber of the door and waited. It took a few moments before I heard a voice.
