One popular theory is that this new world is all Voldemort's doing ...? We'll see ...
Harry Potter and the Wish of Life.
Chapter Three
O, Brother
The red-haired boy looked taken back at the question, "What?"
Harry, thinking the intruder to be a little slow, rephrased his question angrily, "Why are you here?"
The boy relaxed noticeably, "Look. It's okay ... I'm not ..."
He was interrupted by Harry's mother's voice floating into the room, "Harry-bear! Shower!"
Hearing his mother's voice again struck Harry mute and unconsciously he turned to face the doorway, smiling. The boy pushed him aside roughly, "Exactly, Harry-bear. Do run along now." He smirked in a very Malfoyish manner.
Infuriated, Harry stepped forward, reaching one hand out to clamp onto the boy's shoulder. There was no way in hell he was going to allow the fellow to wander around his house. He had just been reunited with his family, and no one would stand in their way.
The redhead turned to face Harry, sly eyes boring into him, "Y'know, I thought at first you said, 'Who the hell are you?' and I mean, you must be pretty daft to not know your own brother! Old age is getting to you, Harry!" The intruder laughed and disappeared down the hallway.
Harry stood shocked. His brother?
Far away in the flatlands of southern England, Lucius Malfoy found himself at his Master's feet. His proud back arched in a symbol of submission as he bent to kiss Voldemort's robes. His own velvet black robes, so expensive and thoughtfully crafted pooled about his knees on the floor as he awaited the decree to speak.
Eyeing his follower with nothing but distaste, the Dark Lord kicked him away before speaking. "Go ahead and be quick about it. I have places to be, Lucius. People to kill." He smiled at his own joke, amused at his own great wit.
"Yes, Master. Of course. You are most graceful my Lord to -"
"Enough! Be done with it already!" Voldemort's howl echoed through the dank expanse of his throne room.
Trembling, a thing not usually done by Lucius Malfoy, he nodded, careful to keep his ice blue eyes on the floor. "Sire. My. . .My division has successfully completed their mission. The one has been 'displaced'".
Voldemort stroked the small garter snake that slithered around in his hand. He kept the little creatures for amusement not companionship, afterall, when it came time to feed them to his much larger snakes they always cried out for help in such a hilarious way. "I see. I still believe it would have been more proficient to simply kill him."
Lucius stiffened, "Yes, Sire. However…. as you know, he has a lot of power and knowledge. If we play our cards right we may be able to tap into that to help us."
"I know that, you simpering idiot! I was merely thinking out loud!" Voldemort bellowed, and as an after thought added, "Crucio!"
In an instant the howls and wails of Malfoy consumed the silence in the room. Voldemort smiled. Who was he kidding? He had all the time in the world. The killing could come later. Right now, this was quality entertainment.
In a daze, Harry had fumbled his way through finding a bathroom (There was one attached to his room), taking a shower, and getting dressed. Using some stiff cream he found in his dresser he attempted to style his hair as he had seen his father's, but ended up having to wash his hair again after creating only stiff oily peaks in it.
He had a brother ...
It felt so strange to mull over those words, but yet, oddly familiar all at once. He had never even considered what it would have been like to have a sibling, yet it made sense that had his parents lived he may have had one. Entering the kitchen, he found his parents and brother chatting happily around the kitchen table. A flood of ugly jealousy choked him as he looked at his sibling. He had wanted to have his parents, not a little brat to share everything with!
The selfish thoughts consumed him for a moment before he was once again enveloped in his mother's arms."Oh, Harry, I can't believe you're fifteen today!" Lily lamented, ruffling her son's hair, "What happened to that little baby of mine?"
His brother rolled his eyes, a gesture that infinitely infuriated Harry. Obviously, the boy didn't understand how important family was, having never had to grow up without them. The lucky bastard.
"Grief, he's old." James laughed, "But not too old for presents, I hope! Your mother thinks you should keep all the gifts for your party tonight, but I strongly disagree-"
Lily frowned at her husband, "James, people are coming to see Harry's face when he opens their gifts, it's not fair to open them before."
"Why not just open ours, then?" The redheaded boy piped up.
Harry shot the boy a disgusted look for interrupting his time with his parents. Surprised, the boy retreated into himself.
Not noticing the exchange, Lily nodded, "Good idea, Ethan-tree. Harry, you can open the ones from us if you'd like."
Harry shrugged agreeably, "Okay, Mum."
James put down his copy of The Daily Prophet and clapped his hands. With a quick jolt of light the pile of presents vanished and only two remained, each the size of a large book.
Harry grinned and gleefully reached for the one labeled, "Dad and Mum." Sitting down on the chair closest to him, he took great care in not ripping the wrapping paper. He actually had a present from his PARENTS. The novelty of this moment created great reverence in him. Once the shiny silver and red paper was off, he was left with a white box. He looked up and found his parents grinning at him encouragingly.
He lifted the top of the box and. . .
POP!
Gone was the box and in its place; an absolutely magnificent broomstick. His Firebolt would be nothing more than a bent twig in comparison to this model. It was sleek and long, each fiber of its hair a shimmering gold which were pressed tightly together in a bunch. The stick was made of a smooth mahogany colored wood but was very light weight. Engraved in its handle was a glittering title of: Sunfire.
Harry's eyes were wide as he stared at the piece of wizarding art and after carefully laying the broom down, attacked his parents in a hug. "Amazing! Mum! Dad! It's great! I love it!"
His parents smiled and hugged him back.
James smacked Harry on the back, "You'll put up a good show on that beauty, eh son?"
Harry nodded like an idiot, "Yeah!"
After a few moments of gushing over the broomstick, the newly titled Ethan entered the conversation. In a soft voice he prodded, "Are you going to open my gift, Harry?"
Harry turned and looked at the other present reluctantly. "Oh. Yeah."
He reached for it, and not at all careful about the wrapping, ripped it open. Underneath the checkered paper was a leather, strap bound book. His name was engraved on the cover and flipping through it, Harry was greeted with pictures of himself, Ron and Hermione grinning and waving at the camera. There were letters and articles and other such memories along the way.
Harry looked up to see Ethan watching him uncomfortably. "You know, I ... after last year, with everything that happened, I thought you might like to have...a reminder of the good things that happened. Hermione helped out a lot with it ... I dunno ..."
For the first time, Harry looked carefully at his brother and was startled at the resemblance. The boy looked close to his age and besides some mild coloring differences, they were very obviously brothers. Ethan was a little shorter, and his eyes seemed a mix between green and brown, flecks of emerald giving him a catlike stare. He had red, auburn hair like their mother but the slightly darker skin tone that James and Harry shared. His chin was a little longer than Harry's and his teeth were certainly more shiny, but that was where the differences ended. Yet it wasn't their looks that made Harry connect with his brother, instead it was the look reflected in his eyes, a look that Harry understood all too well. The want to be accepted.
Softening, Harry smiled. "Thanks, Ethan. I really appreciate it." He thanked, wondering what his brother meant by 'everything that happened'.
Ethan grinned.
"Well, get ready boys! Birthday Brunch will be here very soon!" Lily announced mysteriously before disappearing into the adjoining room, dragging James with her.
Ethan squirmed for a moment, awkward when alone with his brother, "Sorry about being in your room and all. I just wanted to see if you were awake. Are you very cross?"
Harry scrutinized his brother carefully though lidded eyes, "It's fine, don't worry. I was just startled."
"Yeah. Well, wake up, it's Mum's favorite son's birthday, it's gonna be a doozy!"
Surprised, Harry glanced at Ethan and saw no malice in his expression though he had heard the truth in his statement. He was the favorite son? Though that should have made him feel bad for Ethan, he couldn't help but feel the slightest bit smug.
Lily and James entered the room once more, and brandishing her wand like a sword, Lily pointed at the table. Instantly, plates of food blossomed from thin air. Harry's eyes widened. It couldn't be ...
Chocolate Chip Apple Crisp Waffles ... His all time favorite food!
….Although he had never eaten them before.
"Mum! Wow!"
Lily beamed.
Harry piled six waffles on his plate to accompany the eggs and bacon his mother had also prepared. He dug right in, fork treated like a special tool with an even more special cargo.
His first meal cooked by his mother!
The others all also began to eat the ever anticipated Birthday Brunch and after a good twenty minutes of chewing, murmurs and delectable tastes, the family of four were full.
"Delightful, Lil!" James complimented.
Lily blushed at her husband, who returned the loving gaze measure by measure. Then turning to the guest of honor, Lily smiled. "What do you think, Harry?"
"Mmhdnauihoguof?" was Harry's dignified reply as he swallowed a lump of waffle.
Ethan rolled his eyes. "My brother, the hog."
Harry shot a dark look at his brother who stuck out his tongue in reply. "Excellent, Mum!"
Lily shot her son a bright look and stood, "I'm glad. Now, James, Ethan, we've got to go pick up some last minute things for the party. Harry, you'll be all right, won't you?"
Harry nodded.
Ethan pouted.
"Mu-um! Why can't I stay? I always have to do all the slave labor around here-"
James let his fork clatter onto his plate, "You whinge on almost as much as Harry did on your last birthday! You're going. Harry, remember don't answer the door unless you hear the knock, okay?"
"Sure-" Harry began, unsure of why there was a special knock and not wanting to ask what it was in order to not bring attention to his inexperience in this world.
His mother swept down and kissed him on the cheek. "We'll be back soon."
Ethan gave Harry a look of long-suffering before following their Father and Mother.
Remaining seated, Harry banished his doubts and questions for the time being. As some house elves entered the room to clear the plates and his parents vanished via the fireplace in the living room, Harry couldn't help but think how lucky he was to finally have a normal family.
Harry spent his time exploring the Potter ... estate. His earlier suspicions had been correct. It was a huge mansion. Harry had even got lost in it a few times and had had to be led out by a particularly excited house elf, Pippy. The downstairs was home to a maze of rooms ranging from the beautifully furnished dining room and kitchen, all decked in pale blues, to the cooking area where the house elves spent most of their time. In addition there was a large hallway, a study, two lounges, a library, a TV room (much to his surprise, though the 'TV' was an odd floating scroll) and an area which was very much like an indoor pool, except the walls were invisible (Harry found this out the hard way).
Creeping through the library, Harry happened onto an epiphany. The first words that Hermione had ever said to him had included the fact that both he and his scar were mentioned in some Wizarding books. If that was so, then they should be included even now if the scar was truly from Voldemort!
Harry desperately tried to recall the list of books Hermione had rattled on about. Wizard conventions ... Wizard events ... Wondrous Wizarding ... Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century! He flew toward the first bookshelf of various novels and texts.
Chaser: The Talent (C? No, too far back).
Frunglumps (Harry didn't even want to know).
Goddesses' and Dragons (Huh?)
Great Wizarding Events of the Nineteenth Century (Getting closer).
Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century (Eureka!)
Harry's hands grasped the spine firmly and he began to slide the book out of the shelf when a loud knock on the front door alerted his attention. Startled, he dropped the book and turned. The knocks came in a set of two, a pause and then three. It seemed close enough to a pattern that Harry decided to answer it. Leaving the library to enter the hall, Harry made his way to the door. Opening it, his mouth dropped.
In loose fitting black robes, stood Cedric Diggory.
"Hey Harry!" Cedric chirped, flashing him a smile that would melt any woman's heart. Then, seeing the look of confusion on the other boy's face, added, "You okay?"
Trying desperately to close his jaw, Harry nodded weakly unable to rip his eyes off Cedric's moving, smiling, living, face.
"Great!" Cedric said, "Can I come in?"
Harry moved out of the way to let him through. Once done, he closed the door and turned back to face Cedric. The boy who hadn't deserved to die - but had, because of him. Trying to push the swirling guilt away, Harry swallowed hard. Cedric looked around the hallway before turning back to Harry. "So Happy Birthday, eh? Sorry, but my mom and I can't come tonight." He held out a small box wrapped in red paper, "Just wanted to drop off your gift! Sorry for such a short visit, but I'm sure you're busy as is."
He made for the door, oblivious to the surprise on Harry's face. Once again in the doorway he turned and smiled, but this time Harry caught a look of sadness flickering in the former school champion's eyes. "You know, last year your birthday party was smashing. I really wish we could come, but we just haven't been feeling up to... - y'know - after the De. . ." He took a shaky breath, "... Dad died."
Harry felt his heart freeze. Amos Diggory was dead? Sure the fellow was pompous, stupid, arrogant, and downright irritating - but he was a good sort!
"Oh. No, I understand. I ... I'm really sorry ... Cedric." Somehow, Harry had found his voice, speaking words he wished to speak in both worlds.
Cedric gave him a weak smile, the former chipperness about him gone like a forgotten autumn wind. "I know. Thanks for being such a friend through it all, Harry. I know you know what it feels like. Next year will be better for us all, I hope. I'd best be going."
Cedric turned and left. Harry slowly slid the door shut behind him. Amos Diggory was dead? But how? Funny ... it was almost like Cedric had started to say "Deatheater" but stopped.
No ... it must have been a mistake ... right?
And...had Cedric said something about knowing what it would feel like? Harry was too puzzled to figure all of this out.
After shaking off the house-elf, Pippy, who had cornered him and tried to force-feed him a few leftover waffles, Harry made his way back into the Library and settled down in a large armchair to read.
Letting his finger trail down the table of contents, Harry stopped at:
You-Know-Who. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Pgs 783 – 898
Frowning at the amount of reading matter he would have to sift through, Harry flipped to page 783. There, he was met by a smirking painting of Tom Riddle, still in his youth. Harry shuddered in remembrance of their meeting in the Chamber of Secrets and scowled darkly at the photo.
Bastard.
Scanning the page, Harry found nothing that interested him. He grabbed a fistful of pages and flipped them over. His search was unsuccessful until he came to page 843, where he glimpsed the name Potter. Eyes widening he began to read:
During the early 1980s, You-Know-Who was at the peak of his power. He was so feared by wizards and witches alike that he was usually only referred to as "He-who-must-not-be-named" or "You-know-who," among other titles. His self given name was Lord V-o-l-d-e-m-o-r-t (spaces required by publishing standards).
The fear around his name was mainly due to a curse placed during 1982 that allowed You-Know-Who to tell whenever his name was said in nonwarded areas. This resulted in many witches and wizards being captured, killed or intimidated during April to June 1982. Professor Filius Flitwick of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy was responsible for creating the appropriate wards that neutralized You-Know-Who's curse from working, yet the fear of his name continued to grow.
After 1982 Summer, You-Know-Who became aggressive in his collection of followers, whether through mutual agreement of by use of the Imperius Curse. Those who resisted were often killed. This brought about the ritual of the 'Dark Mark' being magicked above the victim's body (Ref. Dark Mark – p.785). Some of the brightest wizards of the time were killed. An example would be the well-known Trixie Gomez, a prominent member of the Ministry of Magic as well as the inventor of useful Magik -Wheelie (Ref. Inventions of the 20th Century p. 180).
At this time, You-Know-Who created enemies in Albus Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix (Ref: Order of the Phoenix p. 1029). The Order was a group shrouded in secrecy but has been known to fight for the light. The members of the groups are an elite crowd of strong witches and wizards given special training through Dumbledore himself. It was speculated that the now-famous Chaser James Potter and his wife Lily were members of the institution. With rich pureblood lineage, yet thumbing his nose at dark wizard, James was endlessly pursued by You-Know-Who. It was rumored that a prophecy made by one Professor Sybil Trelawney of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy forced the Potter family into hiding by means of the Fidelius protection spell. Through this they were able to elude You-know-who's pursuit. Their baby son however, did not.
Harry's eyes widened as he frantically tried to turn the page. Cutting his finger, he cursed and shoved it into his mouth, sucking on the slit skin as he used his free hand to flip to the following page:
Harry James Potter (See: The Boy who Lived) was a year and three months old when he became one of the innocent victims of the dark ones. James Potter, a newly graduated Auror at the time and his wife were heavily involved in the battle against You-Know-Who. They would often leave their son in the protection of a close friend when they were needed. During one routine excursion, the Potters arrived back to find that their friend's house had been attacked. The Cruciatus curse was said to have been performed on the caretaker, rendering him helpless as You-Know-Who turned onto the child. The killing curse was cast but rebounded onto he-who-shall-not-be-named, weakening him and he fled. Harry James Potter, a toddler, is the only person to have survived a properly cast killing curse. He was wounded badly but upon being submitted to Gardendolf's Hospital was healed of all ailments. He is referred to as The-Boy-Who-Lived, and is loved by Wizards across the globe for temporarily defeating Voldemort, allowing a few years of peace and serving as a beacon of light to an already devastated society. His only memory of his close call with evil is a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.
Rather startled, Harry looked up from the book, his left hand gently pressing against his scar. How had he managed to repel the killing curse all on his own? His mother had not been there to save him …
Thousands of questions swirled in his already confused mind. Harry reread one of the last sentences. 'Temporarily defeating Voldemort'. Temporarily? Was he still around? He thought of how Cedric had seemed to begin to say 'deatheaters'. A few years of peace … what did that mean? Stirrings of uneasiness began to upset his stomach. He was about to continue reading when he heard the voices of his family. Jumping up, he tucked the book beneath his arm and left the Library.
Entering the hall, Harry was greeting by a loud "BOO!" from his brother.
"Ethan!" Harry growled, laughing.
James smiled at the two brothers before clearing his throat to gain their attention. "Harry, your Mum and I have to start setting up for the party tonight, alright? You guys are free for the rest of the day, do whatever," Then added, "And try to get in trouble!"
Lily rolled her eyes before pushing her husband out of the room, gently scolding him for corrupting their children.
Ethan grinned at Harry before pointing at the book he held. "Why do you have that?"
"Oh, just wanted to remind myself to do homework and stuff."
Ethan gave him a look of disbelief, but let the subject drop, "Want to try out your new Sunfire?"
He didn't have to ask twice. The two found their respective brooms and made their way outside. Harry's misgivings quickly vanished in the excitement. The day was a comfortable temperature and outside in their expansive garden, Harry found himself wanting to explore all the nooks and crannies. There was a small hill behind which looked like a secret pathway.
With a sense of reverence, Harry mounted his new broomstick and was instantly up in the air. The Sunfire was perfectly pliable to his commands. It obeyed his every touch, signal and idea. He barely had to think in order to have it move. The Sunfire cut through the air flawlessly, and it's capacity for speed was phenomenal. Ethan, on his own Firebolt watched his elder brother enviously, before remarking. "Merlin, Mum and Dad better get me one for my fourteenth next month!"
Harry immediately stopped his loop-a-loops. Fourteenth? That would have had to mean that Ethan would have been alive before Voldemort had attacked? In an instant, Harry zoomed over to face his brother. He decided on a subtle approach: "You're not Fourteen!" He grunted, frowning.
Ethan colored, "Yes I am! Look, I don't care that you think that potion didn't count but the Healers approved it okay - so shove off! It's MY FOURTEENTH."
Trying to act nonchalant, Harry prodded, "Okay, okay, I give. Tell the story again, though," He gave his brother a grin, "I like hearing it."
Ethan did a quick lap around the garden on his broom before smiling, obviously pleased at being asked to regale his elder brother. "Ha ha, okay, fine. Well, you'd just gone to Hogwarts and you'd send me these terrible letters making fun that I couldn't go to Hogwarts for two whole years - so I decided to take things into my own hands. It was super easy, I looked up some stuff in potions books and Sirius and Remus bought me all the things I needed because I pretended the ingredients were for other things - ha ha - they were so easy to fool. Anyway, I made it and the expression on your face when you came back for hols was super! Although, Mum and Dad were so pissed - I don't think I ever got whacked so hard - and Mum shot off like a banshee! I mean, I didn't really know it would be permanent! I shouldn't have been in so much trouble!"
It was obviously a story that Ethan felt strongly about as he narrated the unfairness of it all. Harry grinned and shook his head, he had no idea where his brother would have gotten such a nose for trouble!
Acting like he had been bored with the story (As he assumed he would be if he had heard it years before), Harry made a quick dive down to the ground before circling upward. The mention of Sirius and Remus also had him excited. He hoped he would get a chance to see them at the party.
"Harry! Ethan! Time to get ready!"
The boys glanced at each other before landing and re-entering the house where James awaited them, "Okay, go get ready, guests should be arriving soon. . ." Then, quietly, in case Lily should overhear, "After twenty guests have arrived, meet me in the Kitchen when I cough three times - Remus is bringing the stinkbomb." Sniggering in a way reminiscent to Harry's own laughter, James left the two.
Parting ways, each boy left to their own bedroom. Harry was content. Ethan had been a surprise, but a nice one at that. It was surprisingly easy to spend time with him, a familiar routine to it all that had him wondering over why it had felt so odd earlier in the day.
In his room, Harry moved around quickly. Laid on his bed was a nice button-down shirt and khakis. Muggle clothing that actually fit him! It really was a big day of firsts for him.
Pulling them on, Harry grinned at himself in the mirror. Spying his wand on a cushion near his dresser, Harry was gratified to see that it was the same wand he remembered. Pulling his hand through his hair, Harry ignored the hair cream this time.
Grinning at Hedwig (Who was still staring at him strangely), Harry left to go downstairs. He had barely stepped out into the hall before finding himself wrapped a big bear hug. A little surprised, Harry pulled away and was greeted with the grinning face of Remus Lupin.
Lupin looked years different from what Harry remembered. He looked much healthier, only very mild scars beneath the surface of skin that was younger and brighter. His brown hair was thicker and darker and he bared only a weak resemblance to the shabby, somewhat homeless looking man that Harry had first met on the train.
"Oh, too old to give Uncle Remus a hug, are we?" Lupin boomed, catching Harry's stiff posture.
Uncle Remus? Harry sighed mentally.
"Uh, no, not that."
"Sure, Sure." Lupin grinned, his golden eyes twinkling.
Their conversation paused when they heard the entrance of another party goer. Harry began to speak when:
"There's the Birthday Boy!" A familiar voice gruffly greeted, and Harry felt an arm circle his neck, pulling him to the person's side in a hug. He turned, smiling, to face the greeter.
Harry's smile promptly faded.
SNAPE?!
TO BE CONTINUED ...
Sevi's in da hiz-ouse! What do you think is up with our favourite Slytherin? Any ideas on the Weasleys? And what all these stirrings of darkness to amount to?
Please remember to review, it takes two seconds bur means the world to me!
Thanks for reading!