A/N: Another slow chapter, but thankfully thanks should speed up by the next one. This was more or less like setting the stage for the future, so. Let's see how it goes. Thanks for reading! All reviews are welcome.

Disclaimer: See first chapter for full disclaimer.

Chapter Three – Adjustment

It was just as Harry had expected. During that one hour alone with Snape, he was treated both unfairly and subjected to intermittent Legilimency, the likes of which set his teeth on edge. He left the room soon after, mind drugged from healing and slipping, and headed to the nearest bathroom to hide away. He needed some time to think. His mind was out of sorts and he needed a chance to get his thoughts back in order. It was strange, to know his memories were there, but buried beneath some kind of dense fog. Amazing what you can do when forced, Harry thought bitterly and rested his forehead against the cool underside of the sink. It felt good against his feverish skin.

Bit by bit, he released the careful control over his emotions and let the memories overwhelm him. First were the memories from the Dursleys. The cupboard under the stairs, the borderline malnutrition, the emotional abuse, the realization he wasn't normal, that he could never be normal, because could do extraordinary things. He snorted, with the cynical thought, If I'm so extraordinary, why don't I feel extraordinary?

There should have been a sense of pride, of accomplishment, when the memory of Voldemort's defeat washed over him like a wave onto the shore. There should have been something, but all he felt was that same hollow feeling that had led to this. This world that wasn't his. More memories swept into his mind, making it harder to breathe. Ginny, kissing him. Hermione, hugging him. Ron, punching his shoulder, laughing with him. That was what he had given up.

And for what? Where was he now? For a moment he couldn't remember, his thoughts too disjointed to tell, but a knock on the bathroom door jarred him out of it and he came crashing back to reality. His heartbeat calmed and he breathed out slowly. He had to get it together. Nothing was wrong. Nothing had happened with Snape. No need to go making anyone suspicious, especially not with Snape still in the house. Wait - was the man still in the house?

"Harry? Are you all right?" That sounded like the young girl – Daisy, wasn't it? My sister, he thought blankly. He probably should have been concerned how clinically he was approaching this, but the detachment didn't bother him. It made things easier.

It was something he had never been able to do, to fully let go of all feeling and just observe. Is it because I forced the Occlumency? Will I always feel life this after I use it? I wouldn't mind, I guess …Wonder if Snape feels the same way. That last stray thought had him shaking his head. Why did he care? "I'm fine," he said, half to convince himself. "Could you leave me alone for a bit?"

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say. "Potter, get out here and stop acting the fool!" Well, that answered his question about whether Snape was in the house or not. Great, just great.

"Heh, thanks, Professor. But I can take it from here," Daisy didn't seem affected by intimidating the man. On the contrary, she seemed amused for some reason. "Are you staying, then? I heard mum asking you to …"

"Potter, stop hiding and get out here now."

Harry almost pointed out that he wasn't the only Potter around these days, but that would have been counter-productive. He swallowed a grimace and allowed his mind to go slack even as he fought off wave after wave of drowsiness from he potions he had been given. Surely that had been the man's intention, to make him more lucid, more susceptible to a mental attack, but he couldn't give him that advantage. Intentional or not, his mind was vulnerable at the moment.

He was stiff from sitting on the floor, but he didn't let it show, relaxing his muscles just as he pushed open the door. "You wanted to see me, Professor?" he played along, curling his lips into a mockery of a smile. "Sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all, "I didn't know using the loo was against the law. Why don't you arrest me and get it over with? Cart me off to Azkaban, for all I care." Go ahead, yell. Get angry.

Snape considered him for a long moment, as if seriously thinking that idea over. "As entertaining as your melodramatics are, I am not the one who wants your attention. Your sister has been standing out here for at least five minutes, waiting. Do you make it a habit to ignore those who care about you, Mr. Potter?" It was said with such scorn and so quickly that Harry didn't have a chance to hide his pained expression. The lapse must have caught the man's attention further for those dark eyes sharpened and sought out green.

Harry wouldn't allow it and locked eyes with Daisy. "I'm sorry," he stated, sincere, "for making you worry." It was easy to say, even easier when he imagined her as Hermione or Ron or Ginny. He had left those few that cared about him behind and he would likely never see them again. Not them. But here were people that cared about him - this Harry - and he had to remind himself it was normal. Normal to be surrounded by people who cared and loved and worried and felt. That was how life was meant to be lived, through feeling.

"It's okay," Daisy soothed, placing a hand on his arm. He stayed still before realizing she needed reassure from him. Inwardly sighing, he touched her hand and let a smile fall into place.

"I'm fine," he repeated, voice low, "I just felt sick to my stomach. Must have been something," he switched his gaze pointedly to the Potions Master, "he gave me."

"Don't flatter yourself," Snape sneered, "for that implies I would take the time to taint one of my own potions. And for you. Don't make me laugh."

"You can laugh?" Harry asked, feigning shock. "Amazing."

"Why don't you keep talking and find out firsthand what I am capable of?" The threat was spoken caressingly, like silk across skin, and it promised imminent pain.

Despite knowing that tone well, Harry shivered. Was this Snape even on the side of Light? What if this Snape wanted a Dark apprentice? How ironic, his inner voice sneered, sounding remarkably like the Professor, that he should be Lily Potter's son.

"Spell got your tongue, Potter?"

Oh, you wish. "No, sir. Er, did you need something, sir?" He placed a protective arm around his 'sister', pulling her close. She didn't object. Odd, coming from such a headstrong girl. "If not, would you kindly leave?"

"Harry!" The girl sounded aghast. "That's Professor Snape you're talking to!"

"I can see that, thanks," replied Harry.

"I think Ms. Potter is trying to tell you to keep quiet," Snape delighted in pointing out, "so I suggest you do." Then he turned, robes billowing out behind him, and started for the kitchen. "Coming, children?"

Harry bit his lip, hard, to stop from saying anything smart. It wouldn't have been smart, after all, if he ended up hexed six ways to Sunday.

+.+.+

The kitchen was packed full, people crammed around the small dining table, the counters, everywhere. Harry blinked and tried to take in all the faces at once, a mistake that made him dizzy with the realization that they were all here for him. That this was his party. In some twisted way he had everything, while the other Harry had nothing.

What purpose is there in living? That was what he had wanted to ask Time, but he had been refused and sent here, left to figure it out for himself. Now he had to find out what his purpose truly was in order to get rid of it and bring back the other Harry back. There had to be a way.

He must have looked out of it because the room's level of noise had dropped considerably as soon as he had entered. Daisy was at his side, while Professor Snape was beside his mother, giving the room at large a distasteful once over. He felt an almost-smile tug at his lips, but caught himself and played up the hapless victim routine. "I think my Professor just tried to poison me," he said woefully, biting his lip again, but this time to stop a laugh. The utter look of loathing thrown his way was to be expected and nothing short of comical. I've seen better glares on a bunny, he thought loudly, just daring Snape to use Legilimency.

To his disappointment, the man did not take the bait, but black eyes did linger - and that didn't go unnoticed. Sirius let out a warning growl, switching Snape's attention to him. "Something you wanted to say?" asked the Potions Master deftly. "Ah, but to reassure your obvious doubts - no, I did not poison the boy. He seems to be a pathological liar these days; you really should have that looked at. Perhaps admit him to St. Mungo's for some wonderful psychiatric help?"

Harry tensed, uncomfortable. Had anyone noticed the subtle hinting in the man's voice besides him? Letting his gaze wander the room while Sirius and Snape had it out, he found that one person had taken the hint, a boy a few years younger than him. Someone he didn't know on sight. There was suspicion in those piercing blue eyes, along with a pain that Harry couldn't understand. Turning away from the strange kid, he eyed the door just a pace or two behind him. If he could shake off Daisy and get to the door, was it possible he could make it outside for some fresh air? He could use the excuse of taking Albie for a walk …

As if knowing what he was up to Daisy dragged him further away from the door and closer to the people seeking his attention. He smiled politely when it was expected, talked when it couldn't be avoided, and found out a few things about this Harry that ensured the experience was worth it. For one, people kept complimenting how smart and quiet and good he was at everything he tried. Harry had a hard time swallowing that. No doubt everyone was expecting him to excel, while he was just hoping to pass the next school year.

He had never been exceptional when it came to school; that was Hermione. According to most of the people here, however, he could give Hermione Granger a run for her money. Not as appealing a thought as, say, Voldemort being non-existent. He had his work cut out for him if he had to pretend to be an over-achiever.

No wonder Snape made that comment about vocabulary …he thought ruefully, glancing at the man in question. Thankfully he wasn't under close scrutiny right now. Snape seemed more interested in his drink, preoccupied by something as he swirled the dark red liquid. He hasn't changed nearly as much everyone else. It was odd to admit, no matter how true, but Snape didn't seem to expect as much. Not like everyone else. Except … oh, Occlumency? He looked away, casual as could be, hoping no one had caught him staring. No such luck, his gaze locked with the boy from earlier and the suspicion there had heightened to a whole new level.

His brow furrowed in would-be confusion and he moved forward to confront the boy, find out what was wrong. He didn't get very far before someone intercepted him, chatting his ear off about something he wasn't interested in. Instead of listening, he took to observing the rest of the people here. There weren't too many kids his age, he noticed, only his brother and sister and that strange boy that looked vaguely familiar. The bone structure in the kid's face was familiar, at least. And the eyes, he had seen them somewhere else before. Blue eyes, brown hair … could he be …? He cut that thought short, determined not to assume things until they were proven as fact.

"Wotcher, Harry!"

The pleasant voice drew Harry's attention away from the boy and his gaze locked onto the new arrival enveloping him in a hug. He grinned slightly and hugged her back, tugging at a spiky lock of pink hair in an almost reproach. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Well, I wasn't really sneaking, Harry. You know I'm awful at things like that." Tonks winked and threw a companionable arm around his shoulders. "But you did look like you could use some saving. Was Drawlish that boring?" She paused, thought that over, and laughed. "On second thought, don't answer that. He probably was boring you to tears! But," and here she sounded curious, "why were you staring at Kaine? Something I should know?" She was waggling her eyebrows in a much too suggestive manner. Harry paled. "A simple no would have sufficed," she tried to say seriously, but failed and laughed instead. "Sorry, Harry. Couldn't let you off on that one. That's my cousin you were eyeing!"

Cousin? "Er, I …" What exactly did you say to something like that? Hey, Tonks, could you explain how he's your cousin and why he keeps looking at me like he wishes to burn a hole through my head? No, that wouldn't work. He needed something more – well, he wasn't sure what he needed at this point and settled for, "If you'll excuse me, I think I need some fresh air." The boy had slipped outside, apparently seething, and he intended to follow.

Tonks nodded and let him go without too much of a fuss. She made a bee-line for Remus after leaving him and he hid a smile. They were probably together; or at least in the early stages of some kind of relationship. His destination clear, he slipped out through the back door, never noticing the black eyes that refused to leave him.

+.+.+

"He's acting strangely," a soft voice whispered into thin air, "I thought you said the potion wouldn't effect his actions."

Harry, taking refuge behind the garden fence, raised an inquisitive eyebrow. Was Kaine alone and talking to himself? Or was there someone there, unseen? When another voice, deeper and more masculine, answered, it was obvious they had company of the uninvited sort. The person remained cloaked in shadows, refusing to be seen.

"I thought we discussed this already, Black. The potion was meant to relinquish control. Wasn't he a bit out of sorts all morning?"

"I wouldn't know," Kaine snapped, "I made sure I had an alibi for my whereabouts. I was busy at the bookshop, working off what I owed for Harry's birthday present. Is that a problem?"

The unknown person scoffed, clearly unimpressed. "Remind me never to trust you with such delicate proceedings. That potion was made by the best, as you well know, but you should have been there to ensure it worked!"

From his hiding spot, Harry grimly wondered if the potion had anything to do with the drowning. If it relinquished control, would that explain why he hadn't fought to live? Rain fell steadily from above, distorting what he could see through his glasses, but he didn't let it bother him. He wanted to hear what they were saying, not see. His concentration was focused solely on their conversation. Some words were too quiet to hear, but he made out Kaine's reply of "Professor Snape", "watching", and "don't like it" despite the whispering.

He slid his wand out and cast a silencing spell on himself as he retreated from the scene. Once he was far enough away, he flicked his wand, erasing his muddy footprints in the backyard, and then flicked it again to clean the mud from his boots. He would have to put up with the rain soaked hair, though. His mind was far from testing out drying charms.

+.+.+

The rest of the party went smoothly as far as Harry was concerned. His presents were mostly books, the subjects varying depending on who bought them. There was an anonymous one full of advanced Potions - he spared a shrewd glance at Snape - one on Animagi from his father, a massive tome about Charms from his mother, and a strange diary that came from Kaine. Neville had given him one on Herbology and Luna had crafted together a photo album that held some of the more entertaining aspects of this Harry's life. He had smiled genuinely at her thoughtfulness, happy to have something that connected him to this world and could help.

As he could have guessed, he received the traditional clock from his parents, but this one was enchanted to let him know where every member of his family currently resided. All five little hands rested at 'Godric's Hollow' for now. "It can be set as an alarm or it can remind you of appointments if you need it to," James added, "but if you want to learn how to do that, best ask your mum."

"Yes, can't have the brat forgetting to tie his own shoes. Maybe, with a bit of luck, he'll actually manage to be on time this year." Most of the guests ignored the disdainful comment from Snape, but James and Sirius leveled the man a glare worthy of envy. Clearly they only tolerated the professor for Lily's sake. Harry was curious as to the story behind that, but he could wait. He had been far too impatient in the past when it came to his insatiable curiosity, but he was determined to master it this time, instead of letting it rule him blindly. That mistake wasn't one he was willing to make again. I never did apologize to Snape for fifth year, he realized unhappily.

His obsession with Draco Malfoy and the Half-Blood Prince had distracted him, and then the year after that he had been stuck wandering around the countryside in secret, refusing to believe anything good of the man. He had been foolish enough for two and a half lifetimes the past few years; it was about time he grew up. No matter how annoying he can get.

That same calming haze settled over his mind, the one he was beginning to associate with Occlumency, as he allowed himself to be dragged back to the present where a couple more gifts waited to be unwrapped. Aidan had gotten him a book on the Elemental Spells. Daisy had gone out of her way to create a wooden coo-coo clock that made him laugh. And last but not least, his godfather had bought him the latest broomstick out on the market, the Sunflare 3000, recklessly spoiling him. He flushed, first embarrassed and then angry that his Occlumency block had decided to flee the first chance it got. Great, even my mind's against me. How encouraging.

He heard a low, raspy chuckle and glared at the source of the noise. Then it sunk in who he was glaring at and he instinctively took a step back. "What's so funny, Professor?" he ground out.

Snape only smirked and turned away, engaging another Order member in conversation. Get it together, Potter. He's doing it on purpose! Not an encouraging thought since he would have to put up with that all year long. At least he had another month to prepare for the worst.

Excusing himself early, he headed upstairs to the guest bedroom Sirius said he could use. He didn't feel so great and Emmeline had been insistent that he should sleep off the majority of the healing potions sooner rather than later. Might as well escape before they start forcing cake on me, he didn't think his stomach could handle that at the moment. A flicker of a smile appeared on his face when he reached the spare bedroom, the plaque above it reading 'Harry's Home Away From Home'. He must have spent many nights here to earn the right to such a title.

Without a backwards glance, he pushed the door open, closed it behind himself, and slid down to rest with his back against it. The bed looked comfortable, but he was too tired to care. This was all too much to absorb. People that shouldn't be alive were downstairs parading around like it was nothing. More than one Death Eater was in the house, no one seeing them for what they were, and he was expected to go on as normal. As if his life was perfectly fine. Was this life perfect, though? It seemed that way, but what about Kaine? There was dark, purposeful intention in the boy's every move. No, this life wasn't as perfect as it seemed. There was so much to learn, so much that was expected of him …

He drifted off into a fitful sleep before he could even feel the weight of those expectations. Before he could think nothing's changed, since almost everything had.

+.+.+

There was laughter and music, the clink of glass on glass, eager murmuring in the background. It was a party, but he wasn't the center of attention here and he breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't expected to be anything great, just an ordinary boy enjoying an ordinary evening out. Someone was in his arms, dancing with him, the curves feminine and the build slighter. It was nice to hold someone like this, for the sake of holding and dancing and nothing else. No expectations. He was free.

The scene changed and he was laughing, dragging the pretty blonde girl behind him into a back alley. She pushed him up against a wall and then they were kissing, frenzied and desperate to feel alive. It felt good and at the same time something was wrong. He couldn't pull away, she wasn't letting go of his wrists, she wasn't Ginny, and he pleaded with her to let go, that this wasn't right.

Her laugh turned dark when it rang through the air again, sending chills down his spine. The hands holding him pinned tightened and he realized there would be no escape; she was a witch, she had immobilized him long before his rational mind had caught up. There would be bruises left behind, thousands of them, when she was done.

But why? He wanted to shout, scream, cry, rave, anything to get her to stop. She must have silenced him, though, because he couldn't make a sound, not even a whimper as control slipped away.

Harry woke up to a scream tearing from his throat. He was drenched in a cold sweat, shivering. The dream had felt so real. Was it a memory that belonged to the other Harry? Or was it a nightmare?

For some reason he was itching to get his hands on a Divination book, to reread the Dream Oracle and see if he could make head or tails of what he had just seen. He pushed his fingers the soaked hair at his temple, scowling. It was incredulous to think the dream had been anything more than a dream. As if it was prophetic or anything of the sort. He was feeling too out of sorts and the nightmare had reacted to that.

Wasn't that what Hermione would say? It didn't mean anything, it was only his subconscious dealing with the things his conscious mind refused to even think about. Then why, he wanted to know, was someone taking advantage of me like that? Why was I so relaxed before it happened? He was too tired to figure out any of it and let it go, calming his racing thoughts as he laid back down on the bed.

A split second later it sank in that he had not been in a bed when he had fallen asleep and he shot back up, eyes wide in the dark as he took in his completely unfamiliar surroundings. Damn, I let my guard down. I should have set an alarm to wake me up! Now that his war-honed senses were on high alert, he could make out the shuffle of feet outside the room. The noise paused by his door and he flattened himself back against the bed, breathing deeply to give off the appearance of sleep. Just in case the door opened. It didn't, and the feet moved on.

Where the hell am I? He reached for his wand, wanting that small comfort, and cursed when he couldn't find it. A search of the bedside table in the dark yielded his glasses, however, and he slid them on. Blurs took shape and he could make out more defined outlines now. He was still in Godric's Hollow, the guest bedroom from earlier, but who had moved him to the bed? More importantly, where was his wand?

He could hear whispers down the hall and fought the instinct to listen at the door. They would know he was awake if he got caught and he wasn't up for a lecture. Still, words drifted in from the hall and he recognized both voices. Snape and his mother. Where was James, asleep?

"Thank you … didn't have to … are you staying?" That was Lily speaking, light and a pitch higher than her normal tone. Was she nervous, upset? He couldn't make heads or tails of anything, his head felt like it was spinning.

"No need. I should be getting back." Why could he hear Snape more clearly than his mother? Was he purposely raising his voice? "Make sure he takes this when he wakes up. It should ease the residual pain." There was a rustling as something was handed over. "Remind him that I will be contacting him. I don't work for free."

Lily had the audacity to laugh at that, as if it was a joke. It wasn't, but how was he going to explain that to his mum? Oh, by the way, I traded my mind so he would get off his high horse and heal me. Do you think he'll go easy on me if I remind him I'm related to you? He couldn't see that going over well.

With a sigh, he pulled the covers tight around himself and fell back asleep. Tomorrow would bring another day. Perhaps things would be clearer in the morning.

+.+.+

"Mum, Harry looks ill!"

Thanks for that, what amazing powers of observation you have. Harry scowled in the direction of his brother and the boy quickly dropped his gaze, fidgeting.

They were staying at Sirius' for breakfast and soon they would be headed home. While Harry was eager to see what his real home actually looked like, he knew he would have to convince his godfather to let him stay here. Albie, for one, had to be given back to Emily before the end of the summer. He also needed some time alone, time he wouldn't get with siblings hanging around. And Kaine, I'll be able to keep an eye on him if I'm here. Find out what he's up to.

"Harry's fine, Aidan, stop worrying." Lily set a small potion vial in front of him and Harry pushed it away. He knew what it was and he didn't want it. There was no pain, or so he kept telling himself. "What are you doing? Drink up. And you should thank Severus when you get the chance. It was kind of him to give you that."

Not if it's poison, Harry thought glumly, picking up the bottle. Under his mother's watchful gaze, he tipped it back and drank - then promptly grimaced at the taste. The man hadn't even tried to make it taste good, had he? "Cheers."

"I don't envy you," Aidan was smirking, but stopped when he caught sight of the withering glare aimed at him by Daisy. She certainly had a temper, that one. "What? I don't! You know how the greasy git is."

"Yes, but you're not always on the receiving end like me and Harry!" That was an interesting piece of information; Harry stored it away for later, half-wondering if they were singled out because of their eyes. They were the only ones with Lily's eyes.

"To be honest, I think he fancies Harry." With all the grace and tact of a teenage boy, Harry choked on his pumpkin juice. His brother was kidding, right? By the triumphant smirk, Aidan was joking, but it was impossible to take back what he said. I'm traumatized, Harry thought dramatically, which digressed into laughter as Lily rapped her knuckles against the boy's head.

"Enough, you two. There will be plenty of time to tease each other after breakfast." She turned back to the stove where she was cooking up a storm. Almost literally, with pots flying this way and that. "You're lucky your father's not here, Aidan. He hates when you bring up Severus at the dining table."

Around a mouthful of porridge, Aidan mumbled, "Well, yeah, he is a greasy bastard. Doesn't sit right with food."

"Aidan Albus Potter!" Harry winced along with his brother. "Don't you dare -" They didn't get to hear the rest of it because Sirius and James had finally stumbled into the kitchen, howling with laughter and talking loudly. Lily rounded on them. "Keep it down! Emmeline had a late shift last night. And you," she arched an eyebrow at James, "how are you still awake? I know for a fact you were with her!"

"Come on, Lils," James tried to soothe, holding up his hands in the universal sign of peace, "I have to be at work in two hours. How do you think I'm awake?"

An angry flush spread on Lily's cheeks. "We've had this argument before, James. Stay. Out. Of. My. Potions!"

Harry took that as his cue to leave. He didn't really need to see his parents fighting. This was all too raw and new. Snagging a piece of toast, he headed outside with a little redhead following him step for step. If he wasn't mistaken, Daisy was probably closer to him to Aidan and he didn't mind the company.

Albie was tied up a short distance away from the garden and he changed course mid-stride, his sister colliding into his side. He apologized, flashed a smile, and led her over for introductions. After his story, carefully edited around certain events, they both shared their breakfast with the collie and told tales of wild animals, eventually leading into a game of 'would you rather' that Daisy confessed she had learned from their mother's diary.

+.+.+

They were getting ready to leave when Harry put his plan into motion. "Sirius, could we talk for a minute?" He smiled apologetically at his mom and followed Sirius into the kitchen. He cut straight to the point, "I'd like to stay until summer is over … would that be all right?"

Sirius gave him a long, considering look and then took a seat on the edge of the counter, ungraceful as could be. "What brought this on?" There was a pause as his dark brows drew together in a frown. "Is Kaine pestering you again? Look, I know you two get on, but you need to stop letting him get away with everything before -"

As interesting as all that was to hear, Harry interrupted. "No, Sirius. It isn't Kaine this time." That seemed the safest way to defuse the situation – and it worked, Sirius relaxed somewhat. "I just …" Now how to put the rest of it. "I need some space and it's nice here. Plus -" He glanced purposely at the back door. "Albie isn't mine to keep and I would feel bad if I wasn't the one taking care of him. Mum said we can't take him with us."

"Well," Sirius hesitated, "I guess. But Lily won't be happy. Have you asked her about this yet?" He snorted, obviously coming to his own conclusion. "Obviously not. She's not yelling my ear off." Jumping off from the counter, Sirius started for the door. "Let's not waste time, come on."

"We're telling her now?"

"No, we're going out for coffee. Of course we're telling her now!" Sirius let out a laugh like a bark, a laugh that Harry had sorely missed. "Are you sure you're Harry?" It was meant as a joke, but Harry was glad his godfather had already passed him by, not waiting, because he couldn't hide a small finch at that question. "Oh, right." Sirius glanced back just as Harry was schooling his features and the tone implied what he was going to say next was important. "Keep an eye on Kaine. I think his housemates might have put some ideas in his head. And I don't think they were good ideas."

Harry nodded absently, mind elsewhere. "Will do, but first … let's see if mum will let me stay."

"Right." Sirius gave him another considering look. "Whatever you're up to, kiddo, be careful."

"Who says I'm up to anything?" Harry asked innocently.

"You're always up to something."

That seemed to hold true no matter what world he was in; the familiarity was kind of comforting.