Warnings for inconsistent tenses. Sorry.
This chapter has been edited: (4.2018)
"Or am I just dreaming once again?
Some dreams are better when they end."
Greatest Bastard by Damien Rice.
Harry's stomach twisted as he tried to swallow another spoon of porridge before dropping the spoon and pushing the plate away. He grabbed a mug filled with peppermint tea that Lily said would help settle his stomach. He gently brings it to his lips and manages to sip a little until his hand twitches and the hot liquid spills all over him. He sighed and put the mug back on the table. The majority of his shaking, except for his leg, had stopped but it flared up occasionally. Harry had no idea whether it would get better in time, if not then he'd need to improve in hiding it, he did not wish to be seen as weak.
The spilt tea spread from his thighs to his legs, scorching him. He recognizes this burning pain, he would get this a lot when he was with them. A smile tugs at his lips as he stares unfocusedly at nothing and thinks.
He wanted to die. There was no other way about it; he didn't belong in this place.
And yet.
A weak part of him wanted to stay. The boy he used to be that never got the childhood he so badly wanted. It wasn't like he had a choice, he never had his entire life. Fate had already decided after all. Perhaps Harry would always be in pain. He huffed out a laugh lazily.
If he couldn't die yet and be allowed some peace, then he'd make sure Voldemort wouldn't get to win and get control over the wizarding world. Voldemort would always be his enemy; he didn't care which world. Harry felt as though their fates were tied together.
Was that even justified? He wasn't this dimension's Boy-Who-Lived, Neville was. Voldemort wouldn't care about Harry and this Voldemort wasn't the one that killed his parents.
Harry didn't care about this worlds people and the Death Eaters and Dark Lords within them. He would not help them. He couldn't. He had to turn off his 'savior complex' completely. It should be easy to do. He didn't know the people here, they weren't his. It was like he was in a dream, as though none of it was real. He could do that, pretend none of this was happening.
Watch them drown.
Fuck it. Then he'd be no better than Voldemort. His brain fought him. Whatever, he didn't need to decide now, he could help the light side without being directly involved. Besides, Harry told himself, it wasn't like he'd be much help in his state anyways.
What was Fate thinking? He was useless.
"Harry? You alright?" Peter's voice interrupted. Harry jumped in surprise. Stupid rat tiptoeing around the place. Lily left to work early in the morning to make up for the days off she took so she could watch Harry. She was an Unspeakable, which Harry thought was interesting, not that he cared or anything like that. He refused to let himself get close to these people. Sirius and James would be back sometime in the late afternoon.
"What." Harry said gruffly.
Peter stared in concern at the amount of food left. Eyes trailing to the wet patch on Harry's pants.
"It's just tea." Harry clarified, not enjoying where Peters trail of thought seemed to be going.
"Harry there's nothing to be ashamed of." Said Wormtail. A kind look in his eyes.
"W-what! No way Peter, it really is tea!" Harry stuttered indignantly.
Peter burst into laughter, leaving Harry staring in shock.
"I was just messing with you." Peter continued his weird giggling fit while Harry glared.
Eventually Peter's laughing stopped and he picked up a tissue and dabbed it at his eyes. "Can't believe you fell for that. This is such an ego boost, thanks Harry!" Peter chirped.
"Because your life is so pathetic that the only joy you can get is from pranking children."
Peter stared at Harry before coming closer and closer until his hand reached towards his face. Harry leaned back in disgust. "What are you doing?" He questioned. No other adult dared to came this close without reason, just as Harry preferred.
Peter's plump hand grabbed Harry's cheek and squeezed. "You're so cute! You know you were supposed to be my godson."
Harry was still blinking in complete and utter astonishment while Peter continued to ramble on.
"James made a deal that whoever got to the emergency room first, when you were born, would get to be your godfather. I was in the lead until Sirius, the sneaky bastard, pretended to fall and knocked me out when I came to help him."
Wormtail was squeezing his cheek…. full on grandma style…
"James had the same deal with your siblings as well. Remus only got to be Heather's godfather because he got Sirius to lunge at me and stay on, by the time I got Sirius off, it was too late. I became Will's godfather by default."
Peter had dropped his hand earlier in his storytelling.
This was all a hallucination. Harry had died and ended up in some sick hell where Voldemort and his cronies watched him from behind a glass mirror, drawing bets on when he'd lose it. He nervously searched the room with his eyes.
"I'm going to spell your clothes dry, okay?" peter said.
Harry continued to stare.
"Do you need to be held?" Peter asked, raising his hands in mock hug, seeming to know how to annoy Harry.
"I'm going to bite you." Harry threatened.
Peter laughed heartily, ignoring Harry's serious threat. Stupid man, this Pettigrew was worse than the one in his old world.
Wormtail moved his wand slowly, after stepping back and Harry's clothes dried from the spell. Harry didn't realize that he'd been so distracted by Peter that he hadn't thought of any painful memory. Peter took a seat across from Harry.
"See these." Peter said, pointing out a batch of uneven cookies on the table that Harry hadn't eaten. "They're your fathers. James makes them on special occasion, they're absolutely disgusting but we never tell him that. Sirius even makes it a point to eat as many of these nasty things in front of James as he can, so your dad never suspects."
Harry was actually listening, absorbing what Peter was saying. The boy within him that wanted to know every little thing about Lily and James refused to be quiet.
"Lily cooks when she can but usually the house elves do it, especially these days. The house is livelier in the summer, when Heather and Will are here, you'll like them."
Harry wouldn't even know how to act around them. They probably wouldn't get along with him.
"And they'll like you." Harry's eyes shot up. How was it that out of all the Marauders and Lily, it was Peter that Harry could relax with?
He didn't expect Harry to remember them, and knew that the Harry he was now was different.
"I don't think Lily's brought this subject up with you yet, but I'm going to." Peter took a bite from his toast, Harry waited, curious to know what Wormtail was going to come up with next. Still, even Wormtail was better than Healer Jones.
"Do you want to go to Hogwarts, have you thought of it? Because I have, and I think, if you wanted to, I could tutor you. If we both work hard maybe you could go to Hogwarts for your fourth year. It's all your choice of course."
Well, Harry hadn't expected that.
Could he do it? Physical therapy would be tough on its own and he doubted he'd finish that in a year, maybe he didn't need to. Harry just needed to improve enough to not be dependent on the chair, it would be difficult, along with finishing three years' worth of education. But Harry had completed six years of Hogwarts in his old dimension, which made things easier.
Hogwarts would always be Harry's home. He urged to see it again.
"Yes." Harry practically shouted, unable to contain himself. The feeling was close to excitement, which came as a surprise to him after feeling nothing for so long.
"Then we'll get started on it today, if you feel up to it after your physical therapy session. And I'll need to ask Lily and James but ultimately, I do think it's your choice Harry."
It wasn't. How was he gonna help in the war with zero education and no ability to keep an eye on things "It is." Harry said. "And I can do it."
Lily had kept her word about finding a spell to have his chair move as he wished, without depending on someone else to move it for him. She told him in the morning when she was giving him his potions to drink. Harry had already gotten the hang of it, the chair easily moved it whatever direction he wished.
"Let's get going, it's your first day of physical therapy after all."
Harry was not looking forward to it at all. He groaned in irritation, Peter responded by smiling cheerfully.
It was too early in the morning for him to be dealing with this crap, even though he'd always been an early riser since the Dursleys…
William walked alone in one of Hogwarts many corridors; he felt something that he wasn't used to feeling, bitterness. He clenched his fingers tightly and then let go. He breathed out and relaxed his posture.
He was being selfish; he sniffed and wiped frustrated tears from his eyes. It hasn't even been that long since they've had Harry back and already Will was the worst brother ever! Harry was going to hate him and think he was just some stupid kid.
He was being horrible just crying like a baby and only caring about his own emotions. Most people only get to dream of getting the impossible but Will had it, he got his brother back. But all Will has accomplished is think about himself, he wasn't being a good brother, Harry would never wanna hang out with him.
William had been so distracted in his moping that he hadn't even noticed the fast footsteps coming from behind him until he was being pushed into a dark gap in the hallway. He struggled unsuccessfully trying to get the whistle his mother, sister and all the marauders had coached him into using should danger ever befall him. His assailant clumsily tried to stop him from moving, gloved hands tried to cover his mouth.
Wait…Gloves?
William aimed a feeble slap as his attacker's head. It landed.
"OW!" His guess was correct. Neville Longbottom was known to wear gloves all the time to hide his scar.
"What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing, Longbottom?" William hissed. "Attacking a poor defenseless first year Hufflepuff on his way to class? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't blow my whistle?"
Neville took a step closer, gesturing nervously for William to shush.
"Is this some stupid Gryffindor prank? You think if you scare me enough I'll tell you the Hufflepuff common room password? I don't care what you do, I'll never talk." William was shaking a little bit; he couldn't tell if from fear or exertion. Probably both.
Neville moved towards him looking alarmed while William raised his whistle in a threatening manner, accidentally hitting Neville in the face, he'd pretend it was intentional though, if asked.
"Ouch! Just stop and let me explain myself." Neville panicked.
"Fine. But I'm warning you, if you try anything…" He span the string that held the whistle to emphasize.
"Yeah I got that, Potter." Neville stated, rubbing his wounded head. "Look, I wasn't attacking you. Professor Lockhart was after me trying to have another private conversation in his office. Please just be quiet, he'll be here any second and I'll spell my brains out if I have to endure another lecture on fame and popularity."
William's expression was stern, although it just appeared endearing on his baby face, as if he was channeling on the McGonagall that existed within him. Neville felt the desire for a younger sibling, to look after and protect. He likes to think he would have been a good brother but it's safer this way, those around him would always be in danger.
"Fine." William begrudged.
Hearing footsteps and Professor Lockhart's whiny voice calling for Neville they both give each other a frightened look and pressed themselves on the shadowed walls, praying for the darkness to hide them.
Professor Lockhart stopped just in front of the passageway; they held their breaths and dared not make a sound. Neville wondered if it was possible for a Hufflepuff to push him out in order to save themselves, he hoped not. All he learned today was that Hufflepuff might be scarier then Snape, and violent too. His head still ached.
"Neville?" Lockhart's obnoxious voice questioned. Hearing nothing, the professor continued further away until they could no longer hear him.
William let out a sigh of relief and looked at Neville who seemed to be deep in serious thought; he puzzled over what the Boy-Who-Lived might be thinking. Probably Death Eater related and deep angst thoughts, he mused.
Neville speculated about how Voldemort might have been like, if the notorious wizard ended up sorted into Hufflepuff. Would he have been good? Probably not. A Hufflepuff Voldemort would be even worse; he would seem innocent and good because no one believed in evil Hufflepuffs. Neville worried for the future, if Hufflepuffs decided to take over no one would notice until it was too late. Well, he supposed, so long as they didn't do anything evil and left him to taking care of the dream garden he envisioned himself having in the future, he would be cool with it. That is, if he survives Voldemort. If only he were a normal wizard.
He glanced at William who looked somewhat creeped out. How long did Neville space out?
"Thanks." Neville decides to say, because what else to you say to someone, younger then you, helping you escape from a horrible professor. He wished he was cool but dreaming for the impossible was pointless. And he was getting sick of pitying himself, he needed to be braver. How did he even end up a Gryffindor? His parents always tell him to let them worry about Voldemort and to focus on being a kid, he wished things were that simple.
Neville slides down to sit on the floor, tired from all the running he'd done. As he tried to catch his breath, he noticed the other boy sitting down next him.
"Well I guess those rumors about you are true, you don't seem very nice." The first year said.
"Don't believe everything people say, Potter."
"You can just call me Will." The younger gives Neville a hesitant smile.
"Alright, Will." Neville smiles back. "The whole Malfoy thing is just a big misunderstanding. In first year I accidentally tripped while walking past him in the great hall and my pumpkin juice spilled on his precious and expensive robes." He sighs. "Now he makes it a point to be at least 8 steps away from me at all times, I've hear he's told others that I'm going to be the next dark lord."
Neville groans and lets his head fall back, which just makes his recently injured head hurt more.
He felt such sorrow for the children of Death Eaters. You could tell them apart from the other students instantly, downcast eyes and lifeless expressions …Most were from Slytherin, some from other houses of course. The majority did not go home in the summer, parents convincing Voldemort that their children were blood-traitors and not worthy of being Death Eaters, resorting to protect their children by disowning them.
Some did go home in the summer, terrified in their own homes and came back the next year having seen too much. Although many students had permanent sad expressions on their faces, some having lost parents and some Muggleborns felt their deaths were sealed.
However, Hogwarts was a magic school and learning and seeing magic was exhilarating and did not leave people in their broken down moods for long.
Then there was The-Boy-Who-Lived; Neville himself who loathed his predicament. The same one he had been in since being born.
Was his life fated to be miserable? Neville knows of no wizard with a life like his, chosen for something he had no say over. A wizard with the same destiny already picked for him did not exist. If one such wizard did exist, then Neville would already have asked for advice. He understands he is just a child, knows he is not included in in the discussions his parents have with Dumbledore and the Order even if they are about him. Like it or not fate was pitting Neville Longbottom against Voldemort no matter how much his parents and Dumbledore want to protect from that. Neville does not think he can win, not against a notoriously powerful dark lord, not as he is now.
Neville was weak and not ready. How many people would die before he was? He did not want to lose his family and friends. Sometimes he thinks everyone would be better off if they distanced themselves from him, being close to Neville was painting a target on their backs. The last time his thoughts drifted to that mindset Dumbledore invited him for tea and reminded him of the gift that friendship and family is, he would not give that up. Not even for Voldemort.
Neville wanted to truly live and experience life through hopeful eyes. Voldemort's constantly growing army didn't have Dumbledore, the only wizard Voldemort feared, the parents of everyone that would fight for their children, and they had a cause that wasn't just about violence and the silly idea of purebloods superiority over half-bloods and muggle-borns.
The light side would win. It had too. Neville refused to think of any other possibility.
And for the light side to win everyone would have to work together, all of the students of Hogwarts.
He turned to the boy sitting next him. Only now noticing Will's red-rimmed eyes, a sign of recent crying.
"How have you been?" Neville asks William, hoping he isn't pushing it and is hit, again. "Since having your brother back and all."
Will looks surprised but speaks to him comfortably as if the two of them are old friends'. William Potter, Neville thinks, is the type of person that is like this with everyone. There is this unwavering youthfulness, the boy is young yes, but so is his soul.
"I just don't feel like I'm good enough," William continues speaking of his troubles. "For Harry."
"You must be kidding. If your brother doesn't like you then he's an idiot." Neville tells him.
"Hey." William tries but laughs. "He's still my brother you know, and now that I have him back..."
"Come on Will, you're impossible not to like and don't you have friends from all of the houses?" Will flushes "Yeah. But-" Neville continues over him. "See? Everyone likes you. I heard even Snape has never told you off. The Severus Snape. Not liking you would be abnormal. I mean I've only just met you and already I wish you were my brother. Harry's going to love to you, there's no doubt about that."
All the worry seemed to vanish from William and he resumed to his normal cheerful self. Smiling at The-Boy-Who-Lived, he said. "You know what, Neville, you're not creepy at all, you're actually nice."
"Err, thanks…I think?"
Will grinned but then his expression turned somber. "What if he's not okay though, with what the Death Eaters d-did to him. What if he never fully recovers?"
"You can't think that way. There's going to be problems sure, it was a violent situation and with that comes trauma." Neville is basically paraphrasing from the time he had a couple of sessions with a proper therapist, not Lockhart, that his parents took him to after the Death Eaters attacked them and took some of his blood when he was eleven.
"I still have nightmares from the Diagon-Alley attack but remembering what went on gets less and less scary each time I think of it and one day it will just be something that happened that doesn't make me anxious to think about anymore." Neville is surprised by himself, he did not think he could talk this long without stammering and getting embarrassed but he feels very strongly about this subject and realizes that it is because he relates to Harry Potter.
"N-Not to say I went through the s-same things he did" There he goes with the stuttering, classic Neville. He wanted to shove an apple in his mouth to shut himself up even if Will is paying attention to every word he says, probably studying it for his brother.
"But I think that you should support him by being patient with him and he will recover. You can't be sad for him because he's already sad for himself and then all of you will just be miserable and then what's the point? Be yourself Will, the light in you will bring him out of whatever his mind terrorizes him with. Show him that he didn't just survive but he won because he has you and his family. Don't treat him like glass but don't act like what happened was nothing. Just be there if he needs you but don't overwhelm him. Besides, your parents are with him and will help him, you don't need to worry about it too much. It's just what I think anyway I-I'm probably wrong." Neville laughs but it sounds really awkward and loud to his ears, he should just never say more than a sentence, it always sounds stupid when he talks too much. He covers part of his face with his scarf. Neville sounds like one of those old talk show ladies on the Wizarding Wireless Network. His show would be titled 'Plants, Herbs and Neville: The inner garden'.
"Thank you." Neville peaks from the scarf, confused. "I mean it. Thanks." Will says sincerely.
"A-Anytime."
"Oh darn it, I better get to class. I'm going to be late. See you, Neville." Will hurried away.
Only after Neville waves William goodbye and stands there a while does he realize that he is very late to his Potions class. Snape was really going to kill him this time. Neville runs in a pace that is faster than the one he was on when escaping Lockhart, his fear causing his speed to increase.
"And then this Healer suddenly opens in the door in the middle of the therapy, scaring me half to death and Harry falls and lets out this high pitched scream-" Peter is interrupted in the middle of his tale to Lily, James and Sirius who are all listening keenly.
"It was not HIGH pitched, Peter." Harry yells. Thinking about Healer Jones who jumped into the room to freak him out and to watch his torment. That hag was going straight to hell.
"A screeching noise, reminding me of my great grandmother-" Peter insists only to be interrupted again.
"It was a grunt, masculine and deep voice, just like every word that comes out of my mouth." Harry insists.
Sirius lets loose that achingly familiar bark like laugh. Harry wants to cry for his Sirius, that was far too young when he was imprisoned in Azkaban, that never had the opportunity be free. For the Sirius that became mad over years of imprisonment…
That Sirius that was unstable and got himself killed, a bitter voice in his mind warned. And Harry would be heading in the same place if he did not pull himself together.
He tunes back into the conversation. He is sitting with the Potters, Sirius and peter. Having dinner. Well, Harry is mostly picking at his food but his appetite is more than this morning and he'll take that as win.
Harry yawns; exaggerating is so everyone would see he was sleepy. "I'm going to bed, see you in the morning." He said politely. Harry just wanted some alone time so he could finally breathe, he'd been around people the whole day which meant he couldn't relax completely.
They all bid him goodnight and Harry glided the fuck out of there on his badass chair that, yes, could go over the stairs. Harry needed some sunglasses and dramatic music to play behind him. Possibly Snape wearing the sunglasses and playing the violin behind him. Could Snape even play the violin? Harry did not care; he was owning this dimension travel thing.
Harry finally arrives to this worlds Harry's room. He is tired from today's physical therapy, although it was light seeing as he was just starting. Unused muscles burned painfully and his body still did the whole twitching thing which was growing old real fast. He struggled pathetically to put on his pajamas, even if Lily would happily spell them on for him. Harry refused to ask for help.
Eventually he succeeded and laid in bed panting in exertion. He rested his eyes shutting them, he wanted to sleep and simply forget everything.
He feels the atmosphere shift and his eyes open in alarm. Harry's in the cupboard again and he relaxes knowing what this is. He sees the fake Dumbledore sitting on the floor, to his right but harry just turns his face to the left and resumes trying to sleep.
"We need to talk. You cannot ignore me forever."
Harry could actually; he was quite persistent when he needed to be. Nothing could distract him when he set his mind to it. He had steel tight self-control.
"I saw that little fit you had in Saint Mungo's."
Harry hums, pretending to be oblivious.
"You are still refusing to accept the situation you are currently placed in." And Fake Dumbledore still hasn't shut up.
Harry hums louder.
"That scream was awfully shrill was it not? I believe my eardrums were damaged which I did not think was possible-"
"AGHHHHHHHH."
In my defence through out all those months I didn't update I was constantly aware of it. Thank you for reading, it means a lot. This chapter is the longest I've done so I'm proud of it. Feel free to point out mistakes, I won't get offended. Hopefully I won't take as long with the next chapter ha ha.