Been thinking about upping the rating on this story due to the language from AU and Canon Sirius and AU Harry-they tend to have a bit of a mouth; and for possible gore in the future chapters. I'm not sure yet though. lol
Thanks to all the Guests who have left me lovely reviews! I try to make it a point to answer back all my reviewers and it makes me sad I can't answer back to you guys so this shout out is for just you guests! lol
Also, a thanks to my beta for her patience and for allowing me to bounce some ideas off of her. :D
Here it is!
It's time to move out of the darkness
Use what you feel inside
Your faith alone will guide you
Feel the turning tide
It's in your heart
It's in your soul
Don't be scared, keep believing
I know you know, deep inside
That your time has come
***Canon Harry, AU world***
Harry could have stayed on that beach the rest of the night. Remus was right; standing here, on the edge of the world, with the salty breeze brushing his face and the lapping waves swirling around his ankles was like a private sanctuary where every bad thing was unable to touch him. It was just him and this vast, beautiful ocean. If he could, he would walk into its soothing depths and keep going without once looking back. Here he didn't have to wonder about being accepted into the Potter family or whether or not he would ever see his friends again.
But Remus touched his shoulder, bringing him back to the present, "I'm going to head in. Care to join me?"
Harry remained silent, staring out at the glittering, blue-gray water. He was content to stay here, listening to the piercing cries of the sea gulls and the gentle sighing of the ocean waves rolling in and pulling out.
"There's a storm coming in. It can get nasty out here pretty fast; you should probably head in with me." Remus pointed and Harry followed his finger towards the dark storm clouds billowing up in the western horizon.
"I'm coming," Harry sighed after a long moment, turning away from the ocean and following Remus up to the large cottage. He picked his way through the sand, liking the gritty warmth against his bare feet. When he stepped into the cool, dark house, though, his worries returned almost immediately, making him feel heavy and weighted down. He stood just over the threshold, afraid that the deeper he went into the house, the worse it would feel. Behind him, Remus kicked the sand off his shoes before stepping through the door and shutting it softly inside him.
"Harry," James appeared around the corner, making Harry jump in surprise. "Sorry. I just wanted to let you know that Dumbledore should be arriving any time now. We're all going to convene in the fireside room."
He made no mention of Harry's abrupt departure from the conversation at the kitchen table. Harry felt somewhat grateful about that. "Fireside room?" he asked.
"Oh, uh, the living room," James clarified as he gestured for Harry to follow him.
They headed down a long, brightly lit hallway and then turned right through a breeze way, which was a narrow room with windows for walls and bookshelves tucked into the corners. Few steps further and then they stepped into the living room or what James called the 'fireside' room.
Harry had been in here once before but this was the first time he really looked around. It was a large area; the furniture was all cherry wood with sea foam green cushions. The walls were a creamy white trimmed in pale green and various pictures frames were hung here and there. There were bookshelves and random knick-knacks and Harry even saw a well-used broomstick propped up in a corner. The cobblestone fireplace was the focal point of the room, though, and it was alive with red-gold embers that gave the room a warm glow. Above the fireplace was an ornate mirror that Harry was sure was an antique of some sort. He studied his small reflection in it for a moment.
James placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, startling him from his thoughts, "Are you all right?"
"Yeah," Harry moved out from under the man's hand on the pretense of taking a seat. "I'm fine."
The man took a seat on the couch opposite Harry and Remus sat in an overstuffed armchair. The three sat in an awkward silence for several, unending minutes. Harry leaned against the left armrest of the couch and picked at some loose threads coming out of the cushions.
"So, I was thinking about reinforcing our concealment and protection charms around our borders," James said as he stretched his arm out over the back of the couch. "I could use your help Remus."
"I'll be there," Remus answered.
Harry felt a burning warmth spread across his cheeks when he realized these extra measures were because of him. He chewed on the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. He swallowed several times and glanced up at the grandfather clock standing by the entrance into the kitchen, it's hanging pendulum swinging incessantly back and forth and ticking in respired measures. Five o'clock. Was it really that late all ready? He tried to remember what time he had awoken but drew up no answer. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his head back against the cushions and stared at the ceiling. One was part of him was looking forward to Dumbledore coming while the other part of him was unsure about the whole thing. He tapped his foot on the hard wood floor and then uncrossed his arms, letting his hands fall limply at his sides.
His eyes followed a tiny crack in the ceiling plaster, like the outline of a river zigzagging on the pages of a map. James and Remus were talking again but he ignored them and closed his eyes, picturing himself back on the beach and standing on the brink of the waves, feeling the cold mist and the whipping wind.
He must have fallen asleep for suddenly a hand was gently shaking his shoulder and calling his name. Harry lifted his head and looked around groggily.
"Sorry," James said as he stood over him, a slight smile on his tanned face. "I just got a Patronus from Dumbledore that said he was on his way."
Harry nodded and removed his glasses to rub his eyes. He pushed them back on and looked around to see that Lily, Willow, and the older Harry had joined them. Willow had taken a seat next to her brother and Lily. She smiled at Harry, her hazel eyes sparkling mischievous. Harry attempted a smile back then looked at James who was taking a seat next to him.
Harry accepted a steaming cup of tea from Remus and took a grateful sip that warmed him from the core.
"This weather has been awfully strange," Lily commented as she stared out the window. "Look at those storm clouds."
"They look wicked," agreed the older Harry. "The weather has always been unpredictable on the coast though."
"I know but not like this."
"I'm sure it doesn't mean anything," said James in assurance, "Just mother nature showing us whose boss."
"It means no Quidditch though," Willow said fervently as though no Quidditch was a catastrophe. "How am I going to practice if we keep getting all these bloody storms?"
"Language, Willow," Lily reprimanded with a stern gaze.
"Sorry."
"I'm sure life will go on," said older Harry in a sarcastic voice. Willow stuck out her tongue at him and crossed her arms.
Harry watched them converse mutely; feeling the stings of jealously. He didn't particularly like feeling this way, knowing that it was beyond Willow's and older Harry's control that they were born in this universe instead of Harry's but he couldn't help but blame them for their happiness. He decided to ignore whatever they were saying and stared out the over-sized window instead, watching the storm clouds move closer, blotting out the blue and pink-orange sky.
The setting sun was a blazing ball of fiery orange when Dumbledore finally appeared in a roaring of green flames. The elderly wizard stepped gracefully out of the fireplace and brushed some soot of his robes, "Forgive me for being late," he said with a smile and a twinkle of his blue eyes. "I was held up by a pressing matter."
"Everything all right, Albus?" James asked as he stood to shake the man's hand.
"As well as it can be in times like these," Dumbledore gave a light smile and looked at the occupants of the room. His eyes settled on the younger Harry. Harry met his blue eyes for a brief moment then looked away.
"You're looking significantly better than our last meeting, young Harry," said the old man.
Harry gave no response; instead he clenched his jaw, stubbornly staring at the floor. Dumbledore seemed to pay no mind to it.
"Shall we proceed, then?" he asked as he took a seat in the last remaining armchair, his vibrant sapphire robes catching the dying rays of sun, causing the material to give off tiny little star bursts. It was rather riveting to watch and Harry stared at them for several moments, wondering if they were designed to give that startling effect.
James cleared his throat, causing Harry to look away and at the man sitting next to him. He gestured towards his daughter, "Willow, time for you to head up to your room."
Willow, who had been sitting very quietly in the seat next to her older brother, as though she thought she would be overlooked, gave an exasperated sigh and threw back her head in annoyance.
"Are you serious?" she protested. "Why can't I stay? I'm practically an adult anyway! I want to stay!"
"Willow," James implemented his warning tone and gave her a stern gaze. "This is not up for discussion."
The older Harry smirked. She looked at him with savage eyes and gave him a shove on his shoulder before standing up and stomping up the stairs. Harry watched as James closed his eyes and sighed as he heard the distant slam of a bedroom door.
"Ah, to the have the fiery spirit of a young person," Dumbledore mused.
No one responded.
"I have done extensive reading on the subject of dimension traveling, and though I have found many theories on the subject, there has been no one who has actually done it." The old man removed his spectacles and cleaned them with a bit of his robes. "I am afraid, Harry, that I am a bit at a loss for what to do next."
"So, I'm stuck," Harry said with a frown, his heart sinking. Then he felt a bit angry. What was the point of this conversation, then? Couldn't Dumbledore have sent a letter by owl?
"For now, yes. I have Miss Granger studying the runes found on the bracelet, though. Perhaps she will come up with something."
Harry gave a curt nod and went back to staring at the floor. Figures Hermione would be wrapped up the technological side of this. Inside, he felt panic. What was he going to do in the mean time? Sit here and deal with the strain he brought to everyone? He briefly toyed with the idea of asking Dumbledore if he could stay elsewhere. Anywhere.
"I have some important questions for you, if you will."
Harry clenched his fists, now fully understanding the point of this meeting, "I don't have to answer what I don't want to."
"True, yes. But it would be extremely helpful in your case of being a universe traveler. For now, only the occupants of this house and Severus Snape know of your existence. When I present you to the Order, I have to have at least a bit of solid proof to give them."
"What's the Order?" Harry asked.
There was a brief silence and Harry got the feeling they weren't sure about telling him. "We're a society for ending the reign of Voldemort and his followers," James said finally. "The Order of the Phoenix."
Harry sat back and thought about that. He wondered if there was such a thing back in his world and wouldn't be surprised if there actually was. He knew his own parents had been actively involved in the fight against Voldemort and he wondered if they had actually been a part of this 'society'. "Who are all in this group?"
Another stretched silence and Dumbledore answered this time: "A variety of people have joined the cause."
Harry accepted this, knowing they wouldn't tell him more until they believed he wasn't a threat.
"I suppose I am just going to jump right in, Harry, and ask about the prophecy you mentioned to the others. Do you know its contents?"
"What does it matter to you lot?" Harry asked bluntly. "The prophecy has nothing to do with your world."
"It does now that your Voldemort is in our world," his counterpart said harshly.
"How is that my fault?" Harry said with a wild gesture. "Have you actually seen two Voldemorts here?" Harry looked directly at his counterpart.
"We have informants," said Dumbledore before the older Harry had a chance to speak.
"You mean Professor Snape?"
Dumbledore smiled at him but gave no response. "Telling us the contents of this prophecy would be extremely helpful, Harry. Not only for us but for you. There could be an underlying, and perhaps malevolent reason you were transported here. Knowing whatever you could tell us could help us reverse this and send you back home."
Harry looked down at his lap and clenched his teeth. Home? Where exactly was home? With his relatives? No, they hated him. With the Weasleys? Sure, that would be nice but they had enough family as it is. With Sirius? Too bad he was an outlaw. Hogwarts, then?
Harry sighed and pushed up his glasses so he could rub his eyes. Hogwarts was definitely number one on his 'home' list. There was no other place for him. But even there, in the vast corridors and beautiful grounds it could get lonely at times. Home was where people stuck by you no matter what and thinking about his last year at school, when he was shunned when people had thought he was the one who put his name in the Goblet of Fire, it definitely didn't feel like home.
This could be home. A quiet, hesitant voice whispered somewhere in the back of his mind. He instantly shoved back that thought. What about Ron and Hermione? What about his Sirius? And what made him think that these people would accept him as one of their own?
"The prophecy is about me and Voldemort," Harry said after a several long moments, keeping his eyes averted from everyone. "The Professor Dumbledore from my world told me what it said a couple weeks ago after Voldemort returned." He took several deep breaths, closed his eyes and recited what Dumbledore had told him. Each word tasted like poison on the tip of his tongue. It felt like confessing to something terrible he had done and the shame was like a heavy blanket placed over his head, suffocating and unbearably hot.
When he finished, he opened his eyes and looked around for the reactions. Dumbledore looked particularly solemn while his counterpart looked somewhat contemplative. Lily's face was filled with shock and pity while Remus' expression was dark and thoughtful. Harry didn't look at James, though, but he could feel the man shifting beside him.
"I don't have any special powers," said Harry quickly as though trying to defend himself. "The prophecy says all this stuff but I'm just an average Hogwart's student."
Dumbledore gave him a sad smile as though Harry was just a child spouting off ridiculous nonsense.
"So marking you as his equal," Dumbledore smoothed his robes, giving no other response to Harry's words, "This happened the night Voldemort came for you and your parents?"
Harry nodded, "Dumbledore…er, the other Dumbledore, told me that he had accidentally transferred some of his powers over to me. I can speak parseltongue and…and I can feel his strong emotions. Sometimes, I even dream about the things he is doing."
James leaned forward in a quick, jerk-like sort of motion and rested his elbows on his knees. He steepled his fingers and stared straight ahead as though in deep thought.
A strange look passed over the Dumbledore's heavily lined face. The headmaster folded his hands together as though he was praying and studied Harry over his half-moon spectacles. "Harry," he said in a soft voice. "Are you aware of the term Horcrux?"
Harry shook his head, his eyebrows furrowed, "No, what is it? Some kind of weapon Voldemort has?"
"Not a weapon per say," he answered slowly. "A fail safe is more accurate. Are you sure you have never heard about Horcruxes? No mention to you?"
"Should I've?"
Dumbledore said nothing. His suddenly sad blue eyes only studied Harry with scrutiny so intense that Harry looked away and down at his hands. Something prickled in the back of his mind but Harry wasn't sure what to make of it. Before he had a chance to sort through his shuffled feelings, his counterpart broke in.
"Is there an Order of the Phoenix in your world?"
Harry looked at his other self and shrugged, "I don't know; I mean I've never heard anyone mention it. I know my parents worked against Voldemort but…"
"I wouldn't be surprised if they did," said Lily. "That part in the prophecy about the ones who 'thrice defied him'. It would be a prime way for them to do that."
"So, Voldemort never fell here?" Harry asked, looking at James.
The man hadn't moved from his hunched over position. He straightened when Harry directed the conversation at him. "No," he said. "Though for the past few years he's more on the down low than usual—that is until recently. We don't know why though."
"Probably because of his arrival," the older Harry said, looking pointedly at his younger counterpart.
"Wait, you don't think our Voldemorts planned this?" Harry fell back against the cushions of the couch. "Not just for me. That's sounds mad."
"Not according to the prophecy," said Remus with raised eyebrows.
Harry shook his head in exasperation but gave no response.
"I can't imagine Voldemort wanting to share his power, even if it is with a replica of himself," said James as he ran his hands through his hair.
"I think this would be more prudent to discuss this issue with the Order tomorrow night," Dumbledore spoke in a grave voice. "Harry, I'm sorry to redirect this conversation, but I'd like to ask about Voldemort's return. James told me you were there?"
"Voldemort wanted my blood," Harry said, feeling his arm twinge where Peter had cut him. "Because of my mother's protection, he couldn't touch me so he wanted my blood in the ritual so that wouldn't be a problem."
"How on earth did he get to you," Lily asked angrily, slapping an open hand on her thigh. "With all that revolves around you, wouldn't there be people watching out for your protection?"
Harry shrugged, "There was a Triwizard tournament at Hogwarts and my name was entered by Barty Crouch's son. During the third task the Triwizard cup was a port key…." He suddenly found the words caught in his throat and for a moment he couldn't seem to draw a breath in. Behind his eyelids, he saw the rush of green death speeding towards Cedric. He saw Voldemort rise out of the smoking cauldron, his eyes a sickly red.
"How'd you get out?" asked Remus in a quiet voice. The sound of him speaking seemed to have pushed back the sudden panic that had fallen over Harry.
"I dueled him," Harry's voice cracked as he spoke. "Our wands share the same core so our spells met and prior incantatum happened. The echoes of every person Voldemort had ever killed appeared and distracted him so I could get back to the cup." After he said this, he felt tired. He itched the spot where Pettigrew had dragged the knife across his skin and wished this conversation was over.
James sat quietly beside him; his hand seemed to twitch towards Harry's arm as though he wanted to offer some sort of comfort but was unsure of doing so. Not that Harry cared. He wasn't in the mood for comfort.
"Impressive," the older Harry remarked after several long moments of silence. "Not many have dueled Voldemort and survived."
"It was luck, that's it," Harry answered defiantly. "I'm nothing special."
"No one is," the older Harry said back with a nasty edge.
Harry looked at his other self, seeing the hardness in the young man's green eyes. He instantly wondered what he was talking about. Was this world's Harry on Voldemort's target list as well? "Did Peter Pettigrew betray you lot too? Is he after you?" he looked at the other Harry.
The atmosphere went suddenly tense. Lily looked down at her lap and tucked a few red strands behind her ear. Remus' interest was held by something outside the window.
"He didn't betray us the way he did in your world, though it was similar," Harry answered flatly. The young man leaned forward, his green eyes piercing as they stared at his younger counterpart.
"Is he in Azkaban?" Harry asked.
"No," he answered. "He's dead."
Harry didn't have a response for that. In some way he felt a bit of relief that Pettigrew wasn't around to cause harm but he also felt a bit of unease. Peter had obviously betrayed this world's James though Harry couldn't guess how. He wanted to ask but figured that it wouldn't be well received.
At that moment, a small calico cat leaped into Harry's lap and rubbed her head against his chest. He automatically ran a hand down her spine and she arched against him, purring. "You have a cat?"
"She's Willow's," Lily said. "Her name's Artemis."
Harry never particularly cared for cats. When Mrs. Figg would sit him, all of her cats had always clambered all over him and he always found their hair in his food. Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, ended up being a bit helpful in his third year but he had always thought that it was unbearably ugly and it's smashed face made it look as though the cat had run face first into a wall.
Artemis looked up at him with bright blue eyes and then jumped gracefully back to the floor, prancing away as though she owned the place. Harry brushed off the lingering cat hair on his shorts and picked a few strands left on his shirt.
"Sorry," said Lily with a smile. "She's a sweetheart but tends to leave a bit of herself wherever she goes."
Harry silently agreed.
"Blimey, now that we've gone down that rabbit trail," the older Harry rolled his eyes and plucked a biscuit off a plate from the coffee table. He examined it for a moment, and then, apparently satisfied with what he saw, stuffed the whole thing into his mouth.
"That's attractive," said James as he shook his head.
"'at's 'ong?" asked Harry around the mouthful.
"I would rather you wait until you swallow before say anything else to me," James let out a small laugh.
Dumbledore chuckled lightly and then cleared his throat to gather their attention, "Now, young Harry, there seems as though there is so much to cover but I do not want to bombard you quite yet until after the Order meeting tomorrow night. Do you have any questions for me?"
"Yeah," said Harry as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, working up his nerve. "What am I supposed to do until you find a way back for me?"
"You'll stay here," Lily said immediately before Dumbledore could even get a breath in.
Harry felt uneasily, "I don't want to be a danger or a bother to you guys."
"You'll be safer here than anywhere else," his older self said matter-of-fact and Harry looked at him in surprise, not expecting the support.
"He's right, Harry," said Lily. "This house has many kinds of protection charms on it. Very few people know how to get in. Anyone bearing the dark mark will set off alarms."
Harry looked at her and saw the sincerity in her green eyes. He looked at his other self but the young man was helping himself to a couple more biscuits and seemed un-bothered by the whole situation. Harry glanced at James but the man wasn't looking at him but at Dumbledore.
"If he's going to stay here we have to reinforce everything," James said with inflection. Harry looked down at his hands, his face feeling warm. "Look kid, I mean nothing towards you, I just have to keep my family safe. They're my number one priority."
"Understandable, James," answered Dumbledore. "I have already secured your floo network to only my personal fireplace."
"Thank you. I think I'm going to go on a short-term leave from work. I've been training Longbottom and he's been extremely promising. I'm sure he'll be fine to take my place until I return."
"James, are you sure?" Lily rubbed her hand up her arm, looking apprehensive.
"I'm needed here. The squad will survive without me," he said in a tone of finality. "What time is the Order meeting tomorrow night?"
"We are planning on meeting at 9," Dumbledore stood. "It was nice speaking with you, Harry. There is so much more to discuss, but we will save that for a later time after you have settled."
Settled? Harry thought, furrowing his eyebrows. How was he supposed to get settled here with his could-have-been parents and their two kids?
A sharp pain suddenly shot through his scar and Harry let out a quiet hiss of pain, rubbing his knuckles against his forehead.
"What's wrong?" Lily demanded, jumping to her feet and coming around the coffee table.
"I'm—fine," Harry gritted through his teeth. The pain intensified and he felt suddenly light-headed. He grunted and pressed both hands to his scar in an attempt to alleviate it.
"Harry?" James' voice was strained with concern. The man scooted closer to Harry and put a hand on his shoulder.
Harry shook him off, "It'll pass," he muttered, the pain already fading. He pulled his hands away and gently touched the raised ridges of his throbbing scar with his fingertips. He gathered his bearings and looked around, feeling mortified. The occupants of the room were all staring at him inquiringly.
"I'm fine," he repeated. "It happens all the ti—." He broke off with a gasp as another stab of pain hit him and he clapped his hand to his forehead and clenched his eyes.
"Harry," he vaguely heard James say. "Go get me a pain-reliever!"
"'m fine!" Harry gasped as the pain receded once more and he peeled his fingers away from his now sweaty skin.
"No, you're not," said Lily in a harsh, worried voice. "You're bleeding!"
Harry touched the tips of his two fingers the skin under his nose and was startled to see them come away bright red, "Huh. That's never happened before." He held the back of his hand against his nose, feeling his cheeks turning red. "I'm sorry."
James had stood up and left the room and was now returning with a towel. "Here, use this, not your hand. Pinch the bridge of your nose and lean forward and try to breathe regularly."
Harry did as he was told, leaning forward and staring at the cracks between the wooden floor boards.
"And this happens often?" asked Dumbledore from above.
"Yeah, except for the nose bleed," Harry answered in a garbled voice. "Usually when Voldemort feels a strong emotion or if he's near."
"You don't think Voldemort is nearby, do you?" Remus asked in a worried tone.
"I think," Dumbledore said slowly, "That the complexity of the situation is contributing to the pain in your scar. I do not believe Voldemort himself is nearby, though having two in the same world will definitely have some effect."
"Brilliant," Harry snarled quietly to himself. "This is just brilliant." He sat up straight and pulled the towel away, examining the splotches of blood. "I think it's done," he said.
"Here, drink this," said James, holding out a vial of pain-relieving potion.
Harry took it and swallowed it quickly, grimacing at the taste, "I'm sorry," he repeated.
"What for?" asked James in surprise. "Bleeding?"
"How dare you bleed," his counterpart said in a voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Shut up," Harry snapped at him. He pressed to towel to his upper lip again and pulled it away to see if it came back clean. "See, I'm fine."
"Well, I do not mean to leave in a rush, but I'm expected back at Hogwarts," said Dumbledore apologetically.
"It was nice seeing you, Albus," said Lily distractedly as she took the bloodied towel from Harry and carried it off to the laundry.
The headmaster vanished in a rush of flames, which momentarily cast a green emerald glow on the occupants of the room.
Harry stood and awkwardly brushed off his jeans, "Well…" he began.
"Are you sure you're all right?" asked Remus from his seat, his voice laced with concern. The man hadn't moved but had been observing the scene closely. Harry wondered if he often stayed out of the way of things, preferring to watch from a distance. Harry could relate to that.
"Yeah, I'm fine. It's not a big deal."
James pressed his lips together as though he was holding back something he'd rather say. He clapped Harry once on the shoulder before standing up and making his way out of the room. Harry watched the man leave with a stab of anxiety. When James had rounded the corner, Harry looked at his older self to find the young man studying him.
"Odd, isn't it?" he asked with a smirk.
Younger Harry nodded slightly, "It's like looking at a reflection that moves by itself—if that makes sense."
His older self shrugged and scratched a spot above his eyebrow, "In a way."
"Will I be able to go to the Order meeting?"
"I doubt it," answered the older Harry. "You're not of age. You're what, thirteen?"
"Nearly fifteen," Harry corrected indignantly.
"You're still not of age. Mum and dad are pretty strict about that kind of stuff."
"But you guys will be talking about me!"
"Probably."
Harry shook his head in annoyance and crossed his arms, gritting his teeth to hold back the angry things he wanted to say.
This world's Harry looked at him with that obnoxious hint of a smirk on his face.
"Oh, bugger off," spouted Harry.
"What?"
"You keep making that face."
"As I've said before: this is just my face. And you shouldn't be complaining, we have the same facial features…well, except for that." Harry poked his younger self right where the jagged scar was on his forehead.
Outraged, Harry shoved him off, "Don't touch me!"
"Hey, now," Remus broke in. "Let's take it down a notch."
The two boys obeyed though Harry had to toss in a final glare.
His other self only laughed, "I don't know why you hate me so much."
Harry gave no answer, instead he fixed his eyes on the massive thing bumbling through the doorway from the kitchen, snorting and huffing. "What is that?"
"A dragon," answered his counterpart. "But don't tell anyone, we've been keeping him a secret."
"He's my dog," Remus cut in, tossing a look at the older Harry who only grinned.
"That's a dog?" asked Harry in disbelief. The thing was huge and looked to be bigger than Hagrid's boarhound. It was white with patches of light and dark brown fur. Its floppy ears hung nearly over his eyes and his jowls has stings of slobber swinging from them.
"He's a Saint Bernard," said Remus with a fond look on his face. "His name's Winston. Come here, boy," he gestured to the dog, his voice suddenly an octave higher, "Come say hi!"
"Er…"
But Winston had already ambled over and was sticking his nose in places Harry didn't want him to. He twisted around and allowed the dog to snuffle his chest, effectively leaving behind strings of drool on his shirt.
"Sorry," Remus smiled and pulled Winston back by his leather collar. "He's harmless but full of slobber."
Harry gave the over-sized dog a scratch behind his ear and the thing groaned in response, its droopy eyes looking imploringly at Harry for more than just a scratch. Harry patted him on the head a couple more times before pushing its great head away and finding a seat back on the couch.
"You scared of dogs?" asked the older Harry.
"No," Harry made a face at the older boy. "Hagrid has a boarhound that I've been around loads of times. I was just surprised is all."
"Hagrid?" asked Harry curiously.
Harry stared at the older boy, trying to determine whether or not he was being teased. "You don't know Hagrid?"
Harry shook his head and shrugged, "Who is he?"
"He's the games keeper at Hogwarts and he teaches the Magical creatures class. He'd be hard to miss—he's half giant, after all."
The Harry without the glasses raised a single eyebrow but said nothing in response.
"What?"
The other Harry remained silent.
Harry looked around at Remus and the man gave him a grim expression, "All the giants have either been exterminated or banished due to their involvement with the dark side."
"Exterminated?" Harry felt a sick sort of feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Like they were pests or something?"
Remus sighed, "All 'half-breeds' have been outlawed in Great Britain and the surrounding areas due to their association with Voldemort."
"What about you? You're still here." And then Harry regretted his words and looked apologetically at the man. He waved him off.
"Technically, I'm dead so I'm not breaking any laws."
Harry gave him a confused look.
"James and Sirius helped me fake my own death years ago when the law was passed to keep me safe. It's worked, but I'm not able to do anything at all. Dead people don't interact with society." Remus gave him a wry smile.
"Unless they're inferi," interjected the older Harry.
His younger counterpart looked at him, "What's 'inferi'?"
"Reanimated dead people that Voldemort likes to use for some of his dirty work."
Harry swallowed hard and did his best to wipe out the image that came to mind. Just a couple hours ago, he was thinking how this world was in a better state than his own but hearing that his former professor had to fake his own death to avoid being 'exterminated' was horrifying to him. Was that where his own world was heading now that Voldemort had returned? Harry suppressed a shudder, "That's awful."
"It's reality right now. And truthfully, a lot of werewolves and giants had sided with Voldemort," Remus leaned heavily back against his chair, looking somewhat defeated.
"That doesn't mean the few that didn't should have to die as well!" Harry argued.
Remus gave him another wry smile, "Thanks for the support, Harry, but I've already been through that. Now I just do what I can until hopefully the day comes when this is all over. Or a cure is found."
Harry thought about that. He disagreed with Remus. If it would have been him being shunned, he would have fought back. But then again, he wasn't a werewolf so what would he know? He ran his hands down his thighs and swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling dry. "I'm going to get something to drink," he said, wanting to escape the awkward silence filling the room. He stood up and stepped over Winston's bulky form and headed for the kitchen. He felt their eyes on his back as he went but he didn't turn back around.
He went down a short hallway with a shut door to his left and then paused when he came closer to kitchen as the sound of hushed, angry voices came to him. He crept closer to the entrance of the kitchen and then flattened himself against the wall, straining hard to listen to what was going on.
"You should have talked to me first before offering to let this kid stay with us!" he heard James speak in a quiet, harsh voice.
"I'm just trying to do the right thing!" Lily countered back, her voice shrill and defensive.
"That's what I'm trying to do! I'm trying to keep our family safe and out of harm's reach. We went through hell when Harry was taken by Voldemort. I'm not going through that again!"
"This isn't like that! We're better prepared and we have so many people ready to help us. This poor boy needs someone to be in his corner!"
Harry quit breathing and leaned his head against the wall, blinking against the sudden burning in his eyes.
"I don't want to talk about this anymore," said James after a long, tense pause. "What's done is done."
Harry silently turned from the kitchen and walked stiffly back the way he came. He avoided the fireside room and headed instead for the breezeway that lead to the staircase up to his room, where he shut the door perhaps a little too hard behind him
Well, what did he expect? James just wanted to keep his family safe, and Harry couldn't blame him for that. He couldn't deny the prickle of hurt that went through him, either. Harry collapsed on the bed and laid there staring up at the ceiling, thinking about what he had heard. Had this world's Harry really been kidnapped by Voldemort? Harry was itching to know the full story on that but was doubtful they would fill him in. Was that why the other Harry seemed to have a darker side? Harry wasn't sure if that was a good enough excuse to choking someone out.
Pushing those confusing thoughts aside, he wondered what Ron and Hermione were doing right now. Did they miss him? Were they trying to find out where he was? He wished they were here. He knew Ron would provide his usual comical commentary and Hermione would be a basket case about the whole situation, but it would've been a comforting normal for him in such a bizarre situation.
He turned onto his side and watched the rain pitter-patter on the window pane. The rumbling thunder was a constant growl across the beach side. The darkening sky was only lit by brief flashes of white lightening.
He closed his eyes and slept.
Harry jerked awake soaked in sweat and twisted in his sheets. The room was dark and the rain was loud against the roof top. Gasping, he fought his way out of the blankets and stumbled out of bed. He wrenched the window open and breathed in the salty air. The rain coming through the screen cooled him down and helped him shake off the last vestiges of the dream. He had been back in the graveyard and the ghostly images of his parents had been replaced by inferi and the sickly forms had chased him around the grave stones and were joined by the inferi body of Cedric. No matter how fast he ran, they had always been only a couple feet behind him. When he had finally reached the end of the graveyard, he found Voldemort waiting for him with his wand pointed at him. When he tried to reach for his own wand, he found it was missing.
A horrible green light had erupted from Voldemort's wand and Harry fell back into the rotted hands of his parents.
After several minutes of him trying to slow his frantic breathing, he slowly pushed the window shut and headed out of the room. He couldn't find it in himself to get back in bed and he was dreadfully thirsty. He crept down the staircase, straining his eyes to see in the gray darkness. He wanted to use his wand, but wasn't sure if there was still some sort of detection here if he used it. A muted light glowed in the breeze way, emitting from a lantern hanging in the corner of the hall. It gently swayed, casting wavering shadows on the wood floor.
Harry's breathing had slowed by the time he entered the kitchen. He didn't need to worry about light, for several large candles were lit and flickering by the sink. Harry sighed and searched the cupboard for a glass.
"Couldn't sleep?"
Harry nearly hit the ceiling. He spun around and pulled out his wand then froze when he saw Sirius leaned up against the far counter, a glass in his hand. He had apparently been watching Harry. There was no smile on his face.
Harry didn't lower his wand though, even when he realized who it was. The man eyed him with a bemused expression and took a sip of the drink he was holding. "Do you think I'm going to hurt you, kid?"
"I don't know what you're going to do," said Harry distrustfully.
Sirius smirked and pushed himself off the counter's edge and Harry automatically took a step back. The man ignored him and took a seat at the table. He swirled the amber liquid around in his glass before looking up at Harry with dark, unreadable eyes.
"I couldn't sleep, either," he said in a rather conversational tone. "A lot on my mind."
Harry said nothing. He glared at the handsome man, his hand tightening on his wand. He mentally went over which spells he could use if it came to it. Sirius glanced at Harry's wand and let out a dry laugh.
"You gonna kill me, Harry?"
Harry blinked and lowered his wand until his arm was limp at his side, "I'll only use it if I need to."
Sirius dropped back the rest of his drink and then said, "I've never been one to hurt kids."
"You wouldn't mind me dead, though."
Sirius shrugged, "Touché." He summoned a bottle of firewhiskey with a flick of his wand and poured himself another tumbler full. "Thirsty?" he held up the bottle and gestured towards Harry.
Harry shook his head.
"Ha, forgot you're only twelve."
"Fourteen," Harry corrected snidely.
"Whatever."
"What are you doing back here?" demanded Harry. "I thought you couldn't stand to be around me."
"There's some sort of bloody riot going on outside my flat. Kept me awake," said Sirius evenly.
"Is that true?"
"Does it matter?"
Harry took a step closer towards the kitchen table and rested his hand on a chair, his fingers digging into the wood grain.
Sirius took another deep swig of his drink and gave a slight grimace, "Fuck." He looked up at Harry, his eyes unreadable. "You just going to stand there? You're making me nervous."
Harry hesitated, contemplating on whether or not he should head back to his room and lock the door. But he pushed aside his better judgment and sat down, his hand still clenching his wand.
"I don't like you," said Sirius suddenly.
"I gathered that."
"I don't want you to hurt this family."
"I don't want to," said Harry in surprise.
"Maybe not intentionally, but you've got a giant target over your head. And I know from personal experience that it's always the ones around you that get hurt." Sirius looked at him, his facial expression fierce.
Harry said nothing, his heart clenching. He looked down at the table, staring at the random patterns in the wood grain without really seeing them. Sirius was right. He knew he was right.
"It's already happened, hasn't it?"
Harry snapped his head up and glared savagely at the animagus, "It's none of your business," he snarled.
Silence. Harry instantly regretted his impertinence. He waited for the man to lash out at him, but Sirius only leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. The man's expression was scrutinizing and his black eyes seemed to search Harry for something, though he wasn't sure he was looking for.
"What?" Harry demanded, feeling a high flush on his cheeks.
There was another frustrating silence. Harry couldn't stand it. He stood up and went back over to the cupboard. He selected a glass and poured himself some water, feeling Sirius' eyes burning into his back the entire time. He was tempted to glance over his shoulder to see if there was smoke rising up from his shirt.
Harry stayed by the sink and took a long drink of water. It soothed his parched throat.
"What?" he repeated when he turned back around and Sirius still hadn't taken his eyes off of him.
"Shit happens," he said finally in a deep, harsh voice. "It's usually not your fault."
Harry turned these words over in his head before realizing what Sirius was saying, "You just said…"
"I know what I said," Sirius uncrossed his arms and jabbed a finger at Harry, "And this is what I'm saying now. Shit happens and there's not much to be done about it. So let it roll off your back and go forward."
Was Sirius trying to tell him in a roundabout way that he shouldn't blame himself? Maybe Sirius saw the confused look on Harry's face for he stood and stretched his arms high over his head and then spoke: "I know I'm coming across cruel to you but I just want my family safe. That's no excuse but it's the truth. I don't hate you—I just don't like your presence here."
Harry didn't respond. He stared at a small portrait hanging by the door of James and Lily, presumably on their wedding day smiling and waving and stealing kisses from each other.
"What are you thinking?" asked Sirius.
"Why does it matter?" countered Harry. He turned to pour the remaining water down the sink and he set the glass down at the ceramic countertop.
"I guess it doesn't." Sirius lifted the firewhiskey and drank straight from the bottle. Harry watched him with a slight look of revulsion. When Sirius placed the bottle back down, he saw Harry's expression and laughed. "I'm not a drunk if that's what you're thinking."
"Could've fooled me."
"Sometimes, the only thing you can do to solve a problem is to drink it away."
"Was that something Gandhi said?"
Sirius smirked and tossed the glass bottle into the rubbish bin. He leaned his backside against the counter, crossing his arms, and watched Harry with that annoying smirk on his face, "Got a mouth on you, don't ya?"
Harry kept quiet. He couldn't keep the glare off his face.
Sirius' smirk faded until he was frowning, "Was your uncle drunk?"
Harry blinked, startled by the question. "Huh?"
"Is your hearing as bad as your eyesight?"
Harry turned his back on the man and gripped the counter with both hands, gritting his teeth. What was Sirius playing at? He seemed to be going from one end of the spectrum to the other and Harry was starting to get motion sick.
Behind him, Sirius spoke with a nasty edge, "You're going to explode into a bunch of little bits one day if you keep holding everything in."
Harry shook his head in exasperation. He turned back around, "You're completely mad," he said. "I'm going back to bed."
Sirius shrugged in an 'I don't care' sort of way, "Remember, kid," he said as Harry walked out of the kitchen. "Shit happens."
"Yeah," Harry muttered. "Shit happens."
Back up into his appointed room, Harry fell into bed on top the covers and fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.
***AU Remus, AU world***
"His bedroom was a cupboard," he spoke abruptly, his voice sounding loud in the quiet foliage that he stepped through; James walked several feet in front of him. The light filtering through the trees above cast a greenish glow on his dark hair and tinged his skin an emerald tone.
"Who?" James asked absentmindedly as he ducked below a low lying branch. They were walking along the borders of the property, checking the protective spells around the house, and strengthening the concealment charms. Harry and Sirius were walking on the other side and they planned to meet up in the middle. Remus ducked under the branch as well.
"James," his voice sounded more urgent than he intended it to. "Harry's bedroom was a cupboard until he went to Hogwarts."
James paused, resting his hand on the trunk of a gnarled tree, "His bedroom?" he turned around, his eyebrows furrowed. He ran a hand down his face and glanced at Remus from behind his round glasses. "Fuck. He told you this?"
Remus nodded as he wiped the sweat off his forehead, "Yesterday when I followed him out to the beach. He also told me that he was used to people hating him."
Remus waited for him to answer; the minutes seemed to drag on in what seemed like forever.
"That's no surprise," James finally said. "He lives with Lily's psychotic sister and husband."
"James," Remus spoke slowly, enunciating each word, "He lived in a cupboard."
"I heard you, Remus. I just don't know what you want me to say," James' fingers clenched into tight fists, not speaking directly to Remus but rather to the earthen floor.
"James, that boy sitting in your house is your Harry, just from a different world. He has your blood. He lived in a bloody cupboard until he was eleven! You saw what his Uncle did to him! Merlin knows what else that boy has gone through—don't you see how much he needs you lot?"
"I know!" James shouted so loud that the birds twittering above them flew off in fright. "I look at him and it kills me! Every damn time he looks at me with those stupid 'Lily' eyes, it kills me! But I'm afraid of what it would do to my Harry if I start treating this kid like a son! I'm afraid of getting attached, and then having to send him back to a horrible place where he isn't cared for or loved! What am I supposed to do, Moony? How am I supposed to choose?"
"But that's the point, James, you don't have to choose." Remus took a step closer to his emotional friend. "You love Willow and Harry both without either of them feeling left out or angry that they've been replaced. You can still bring this other world's Harry in, and give him the care he deserves."
"And then what? Send him back to that hell hole? How am I supposed to show him love one day, and send him off to his probable death the next?"
"Then don't."
"What?"
"Don't send him back. Keep him."
James let out a single, dry laugh that was void of humor, "Dumbledore would never allow that. He would say that there's the prophecy and that the worlds would be out of balance or whatever fucked up shit."
"Who said it was up to Dumbledore? By blood rights, it's your's and Lily's decision."
"Lily wouldn't say no."
"Of course she wouldn't," Remus smiled. "She'd probably take in every alternate universe Harry that she could if she were able."
James gripped his hair briefly, causing it to stand completely on end. He kicked a loose root near his foot, "This other Harry comes with a lot of danger. He has not only one but maybe two Voldemorts out for his death. His presence could harm my family. My real family."
"Having that on him doesn't make him any less deserving of love," Remus pointed out. "You've been in tight places yourself and we've all stuck by you."
"Yeah, but that's different."
"How?"
James turned his head to gaze out at the ocean, "I just don't want anyone hurt."
"This is a war, James. Everyone's going to get hurt," Remus let out a shuddering breath. "Some way or another."
James sighed and pulled out his wand, "Let's keep going. Harry and Sirius are going to wonder what's taking so long."
The two men picked their way through the sparse wood, casting charms here and there until they had reached the sand and then moved around down the jutting cliff and down to the shore line.
"You know," James spoke suddenly, "Looking at this kid, it's like looking back at old photographs or something."
Remus laughed, "Well, he is Harry. What'd you expect?"
"I don't know."
Remus studied his friend as they trekked through the sand and back towards the cottage. The man looked weary from some inner battle he seemed to be waging. Remus wished there was something more he could do beside lecture him. He had been in the position of outcast many times due to his 'condition'. Being a werewolf and an 'obvious' danger to others had gotten him shunned more often than not. He knew to a certain point what Harry was feeling right now. He could see the need for acceptance in the boy's green eyes and knew the searing feeling it could leave behind.
He opened his mouth several times, though he couldn't seem to find the right words to say then –
"There's Harry and Sirius!" James said suddenly, pointing towards the far end of the shore. "HEY!" he waved towards the two and picked up his pace.
Remus followed, suppressing the urge to frown. When they were within talking distance, Harry said: "How's it looking on your side?"
"Tight and secure," said James. "I reinforced a couple places but everything seemed to be in order. You?"
"All right, I suppose," said Harry as he dug into the bag he had slung over his shoulder. "Unless you account for this," He pulled out a white object and Remus stepped closer for a look, then gasped when he realized what it was.
"What the hell is a death eater mask doing on our property?" James demanded, taking the mask out of his son's hands and turning it over and over, as if he was going to find the answer written somewhere in the skull's crevices.
"It wasn't exactly on our property, but just beyond the line."
"Like a couple meters or so," Sirius put in. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, his face like stone. Remus knew when Sirius made that emotionless face; he was doing everything within his power to hold back the string of nasty words burning on the tip of his tongue.
As if he could smell the smoke in the air, James looked at Sirius, his eyebrows furrowed, "You think this has something to do with the other Harry?"
"What else would it be?" said Sirius in a snide voice.
"It might not've been," Remus said, attempting to sound placating. "We all know the Potters are high on the list of people to kill for Voldemort."
Sirius shook his head slightly, but said nothing.
"Do you remember where you found this?" James asked Harry.
"Yeah," Harry turned around and the four men trekked back up the beach, crossing the large yard behind the cottage. They stepped through some tall grass and then Harry climbed over a line of boulders, stumbling a bit before pointing out a rather normal spot on the ground.
"This is where I found it."
James looked around for any other sign of a death eater.
Harry walked in small circles, keep his eyes trained down, "I don't see any footprints."
Remus crouched and brushed aside some yellowed grass, "Look at this—it looks like the toe of a boot."
Sirius joined Remus, cocking his head as he stared at where Remus was pointing. Harry and James stepped over to them.
"I dunno," said Sirius, gently touching the half-print. "Could be anything."
"Like what?" asked Harry.
"An animal or something."
James shook his head roughly and straightened, running his hands through his hair haphazardly, looking as though he was beginning to panic.
Sirius must have thought the same thing, "Hey, mate, relax."
"No. No, I can't go through this again," James picked up a small rock and flung it across the meadow.
"Dad, calm down," Harry said in a barely tolerable tone. "It's obvious he didn't make it past our protection charms."
"So he just left his mask behind on accident?" asked James in a loud voice.
"Well—"
"It's a warning," James didn't wait for a response. "It's a warning to let us know that they're watching us."
"Dad, we're fine," said Harry.
"Harry, stop it! The last time things like this happened you were stolen from your crib, and disappeared for nearly four years!"
Harry stared at his father, obviously at a loss of what to say.
"James," Remus stepped forward and gripped his friend's shoulder. "Nothing like that is going to happen. We're better prepared this time. We know what to watch out for."
James shook the werewolf off and stared out at the horizon for a long minute, "Sirius is right, the kid has to go."
"Dad, seriously—"
"I can't lose you again, Harry. And I can't lose Willow, either. You lot are my first priority. Not someone from a different world. He'll be safe with Dumbledore."
"That kid isn't just anybody," Harry protested, pointing haphazardly towards the house. "That kid is me! He's what I would've been if things had just gone a little bit differently. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
James was silent.
"Podmore is going to be here tonight as a guard," said Harry slowly. "They'll be fine."
Remus looked at Harry, who was standing within an inch of the same height as his father. There was no 'boy' left in him. The young man had a hard look on his face and Remus couldn't help but think of how selfless Harry was acting on behalf of his younger counterpart.
"Nothing's going to happen," Harry repeated. "You're overreacting about a stupid mask that wasn't even within the borders of our protection spells. We all knew the death eaters had found our general whereabouts; they are probably just trying to get under our skin."
Again, James said nothing but Remus could see the gears turning in his head. The man turned his back on them, his posture tense. The four men stood there in a stretched silence.
And then suddenly James turned back around so fast Remus jumped slightly, "Lily's right," he said abruptly, straightening his glasses upon his nose. "If you had been sent to another world, I'd want the people there to take care of you like their own Harry."
"Merlin's sake," Sirius muttered, waving them off and turning back towards the house. He took several steps away from them then spun back around. "You do know you're signing yourself up for a death sentence, right?"
"Sirius…" Remus tried to speak.
"Shut-it, Remus," snapped Sirius. "I talked to the kid last night. Other people have already gotten caught in the crossfire back in his world. Do you want that to start happening to us?"
"You talked to him last night?" Harry looked at his godfather with a severe expression that was reminiscent of Lily. "What did you say to him?"
"What does it matter? The kid's a death trap."
"What the fuck is your problem, Sirius," Harry demanded, swelling up like an angry puffer fish. "You're being awfully hypocritical. Malfoy had a price on your head and we kept you hidden until he had been locked up in Azkaban. And Remus is a 'dark creature', but you didn't mind helping him fake his own death! What's so different about helping this kid? He's me, for Merlin's sake!"
"No, Harry," said Sirius as soon as he could get a word in edge wise. "You're you; there shouldn't be anybody else."
"But there is and he needs help. It's not right to just send him on his way!"
"This conversation shouldn't be about moral obligation," Sirius tossed his hands up in the air.
"Don't you get it?" Harry's wand spat out black sparks that hissed and sputtered. James and Remus automatically took a step back. "There's a prophecy stating that this kid has the power to get rid of Voldemort. He could be the ticket to end this war we've been stuck in since before I was even born! If we help him, then things could get infinitely better. He's gotta fulfill the prophecy some way or another, so might as well work it out to our favor."
"He's not a tool to be used, Harry," Remus reprimanded in shock.
"I didn't say he was, but if I was the one the prophecy was about, I'd like to have as many people as I could to help make it end up my way. And what if the reason why our war has lasted so long, is because it's been waiting for him?"
"I don't know," said James with a scrunched up expression, "Sounds a little too out there for me."
"Out there? For Merlin's sake we have someone from a parallel universe, how out there could you get?"
"I suppose you have a point," Sirius said slowly and then looked bewildered as though he couldn't believe he had said that.
Harry let out a dark laugh and shook his head, "I'm done with this stupid conversation." With that, he pocketed his wand and started walking back towards the cottage, muttering to himself as he went.
"Your son is nutters, Prongs," Sirius said as he watched Harry stomp away.
"I've know that for a while now," James offered a weak smile to his animagus friend.
"So what about the other Harry, then?" asked Sirius, rubbing the back of his head uncomfortably.
"It's not going to kill us if we help him," said Remus.
Sirius cleared his throat and glanced at the werewolf, "It might."
*** Willow, AU world***
Willow stared unseeingly down at her open charms book and flipped through the pages without even pausing to read a single word.
"Are you reading that fast or fanning yourself?"
Willow gave a start and saw her brother standing just in the doorway to her room, a smirk on his face.
"Go away," she said moodily. "I'm studying."
"Well, if that's the case, then I'm worried about your technique," he moved deeper into her room until he was standing by the foot of the bed. "Do you think the words are going to leap off the pages and into your head?"
"Shut-it, prat," she snipped and rolled onto her side so that her back was facing Harry.
"What's got your knickers into a twist?" Harry asked behind her.
"Nothing, I just want to be left alone."
"Oh. I get it. You wanted to be in on our little meeting yesterday and now you're pouting 'cause you were sent to your room like a little kid."
"Argghhh!" Willow stuffed her head under her pillow. "Go away!"
She heard her brother laugh, "Dad sent me up here to ask if you were going to be okay alone with my younger self tonight. Podmore is going to be outside, guarding the border, so you won't be completely alone."
Willow pulled her head out from under her pillow and looked at him with narrowed eyes, "Why wouldn't I be? Mum and dad have got this place so warded that if I sneeze wrong the alarms will go off." Willow shut her charms book and pushed it off the bed, finding satisfaction when it hit the carpeted floor with a dull thump. "Besides, I think he's nice."
"You don't even know him," said Harry.
"So, okay, he seems nice. At least nicer than you!" Willow haphazardly swung out a hand at her brother but he easily dodged it.
"Whatever, twerp," he smirked at her and turned to leave. "I'll go tell mum and dad that you'll probably survive a couple hours with him."
Willow rolled her eyes.
"And for Merlin's sake, lighten up!" he called as he headed back down the hall.
"Oh, don't you tell me to lighten up!" Willow shouted back. "I'll lighten up when….I feel light!"
"Are you all right?"
Willow blinked suddenly and looked around in confusion. The younger Harry was sitting on the couch opposite her and he was staring at her with something akin to uncertainty.
"Huh?"
He shifted in his seat and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his freckled nose, "I asked if you were all right. You kinda zoned out or something for a moment."
"Oh," a flush of embarrassment reddened her cheeks. "Just daydreaming," She smiled a smile she hoped was convincing enough, feeling her heart pounding a staccato beat within her chest as she struggled to break out of the last vestiges of the vision she had just been trapped in. "I'm all right."
He shrugged and went back to the exploding snap game they were currently playing. Willow was struck by the oddity of it. If it had been her own brother, he would have nagged her until she had told him the complete truth. This Harry seemed to have some semblance of respect for other people's privacy. While he was looking down, Willow wiped off the sweat beading on the back of her neck and took in several deep, calming breaths. The vision wasn't too drastic; she had been flying on her broomstick through the clouds when suddenly her broomstick had disappeared and she found herself plummeting towards the sand below. She had no fear of falling from her broomstick, knowing that there was always someone on the ground monitoring her.
She took her turn in the game, relieved when nothing exploded, and went back to studying this dimension traveler. He was quieter than any of her friends or even her own brother. He seemed to rather observe than participate. Or maybe it was just because he was in an entirely new environment. He looked a lot better than the first several days he was here. He wore an old tee shirt of her brother's; it was a forest green that looked nice with his fair skin and dark hair.
"Do you play quidditch?" she asked him in an attempt to open him up, as he toyed with the corner of one of his cards.
He looked up with her with startling, piercing green eyes, "Yeah."
Willow perked up at that, "You're on the team and everything?"
"Yeah."
"What position?"
A slight smile quirked his lips, "Seeker."
Willow nodded in agreement as she eyed his slight form, "I can see that. I'm a keeper. Got on the team last year. We should play sometime; I bet dad would let you use his broomstick."
Harry shrugged again and turned his gaze to stare out the window. Willow wasn't used to having to struggle to converse with someone. She usually had the gift of being an approachable girl who was easy to talk to. Talking to this Harry was like trying to pick up spilled rice one grain at a time. It was frustrating.
She looked at him with a furrowed brow, "Are you always this quiet?"
Harry snapped his head back at her, blinking in an owlish sort of way, "I dunno."
Willow laid down her cards and cupped her chin in her hand, "Are you upset or something about the things Dumbledore talked about to you last night?" Sure, she was prying, hoping for even just a hint of what she missed during the conversation. She wasn't ashamed to admit it.
Harry tossed his cards on the coffee table and rolled his eyes, "Does it matter?"
"I dunno," she offered his own words back to him and he cracked a smile at her attempt at humor.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked as he gestured to the game.
"Why am I doing what? Do you not like Exploding Snap?"
"No—yes—I mean, why are you are being nice to me and talking to me?"
Willow frowned and shrugged, "Why not? I think you're interesting."
"Because I'm from another universe?" Harry dead panned, quirking his eyebrow at her.
"Well, that's definitely a conversation starter."
There was a brief moment of silence and Willow wondered if she perhaps stepped over the line with that comment. But then Harry suddenly let out a genuine laugh and Willow was struck by how much he sounded like her father. That made sense—sure he was from another universe, but they were technically brother and sister. She didn't understand why it was so hard for everybody to see that.
"You sounded just like dad," she said.
Harry immediately stopped laughing, and looked at her with a bemused expression. He glanced down at the cards on the table which had begun to smoke.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly.
"No, it's fine," he gave her a slight smile. "It's just weird to hear you say that. I've always been told that I look like my father but I have my mother's eyes and that's all—it's like all I know about them is how they look and that's easy: I've got photos."
"I'm sorry," said Willow, not knowing what else to say. She tried to picture herself in Harry's position but found it rather difficult to think of her parents as only photographs that waved up at her from wooden frames.
"What for? 'S'not your fault."
"Well, I know—I just feel bad. It must have been awful growing up without parents or anyone to take care of you."
Harry shrugged, "Sometimes, I guess…but other times I'm glad I was alone."
Willow was shocked and was sure he was lying. He saw the look on her face and shrugged again.
"Growing up alone makes you more independent and you learn how to be alone. It's easier to lose things but if someone was there for me and took care of me…well…what if you learn you need love, than you don't have it?"
"That's stupid logic," Willow said without pause. "You're only saying all that to make yourself feel better about being alone all the time. No one likes to be alone. Not really."
Harry said nothing. His brilliant green eyes stared out the window in deep contemplation. He suddenly squinted. "Who's that?" he asked.
"Sturgis Podmore," answered Willow without even looking. "He's on the guard for us tonight while everyone else is at the meeting."
"Oh," Harry stood up and walked over to the window to look out.
Curious, Willow stood up as well and joined him at the window, trying to see whatever he was watching. Looking at him from out of the corner of her eye, she saw that she was at least a couple inches taller than him, which she would have laughed at if she knew him well enough.
Boom! With deafening intensity, the thunder rolled through the skies as steady as a freight train. Leading the way, brilliant veins of lightning cracked the darkening sky like a whip. Willow jumped in surprise, her heart suddenly pounding.
"Does it always storm out here?" Harry asked.
"No," said Willow, "Just lately it's been like this. It's strange, really…I'm going to get a candle."
"What for?"
"In case the power goes out. Our lighting is muggle because mum wants to appear normal when our non-magic friends come over."
Another sudden crack of lightening and they were suddenly plunged into darkness.
Willow sighed and gestured angrily at the ceiling, "The lights always go out during a storm. We must have the worst muggle electricity this part of the country. Just stay here."
She hurried to the kitchen and grabbed a candle off the counter and lit it. She made her way back to where Harry was and found he was back on the couch. The candle's flame reflected in his glasses as he watched her. She carefully placed the candle on the coffee table and sat down next to him. She felt him tense up and shift away ever so slightly.
"When do you think they're going to be back?" asked Harry, his voice sounding very loud in the dark room.
"I dunno," said Willow. "Sometimes a meeting only lasts thirty minutes, and sometimes they don't come back until morning."
"Do you hate being left here?"
"It's bloody awful," Willow fell back against the couch cushions, "I hate being left out, but mum sees me as this fragile thing—ugh."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why does she treat you like that?" he clarified. The candle only lit up half his face and gave him a rather spooky look.
"Oh," Willow hesitated, glad it was too dark for him to see her turn red. "That's just what she's like, you know?"
They sat in silence and listened to the storm rage outside. Willow folded her hands in her lap and stared out the window in front of them, lost in her own thoughts. She absentmindedly poked at the melting wax on the candle, casting about for something to say so they wouldn't just be sitting in complete silence. She peeled the drying wax off her fingers and scratched her elbow, feeling awkward and unsure. Harry may like to sit in silence but being so quiet made her feel on edge and jittery.
Before she found something to say, Harry stood up and walked back over to the window.
"What are you doing?" she asked from the couch.
"Are you sure that's Podmore out there?" he wiped away the moisture that had gathered on the glass and pressed his face up against it.
"Why?"
"I think I see two people, not just one."
"Two people" Willow echoed in a low voice. She had the sudden sensation of a spider crawling up her back. "Are you sure?"
"Dead sure—"
"Don't say it like that, idiot."
"Sorry…"
"Maybe dad just sent another person out to watch us," suggested Willow, chewing on her lip and feeling nervous. The faint fear that had touched her just seconds earlier began to swell into a mild panic. She looked around quickly, expecting some crazed lunatic to suddenly jump out of the dancing shadows.
He stepped away from the window and looked at her closely, "Are you all right? You look as though you might, er, cry…"
"Shut up," she snapped. "I'm fine."
"Let's go to the kitchen then," Harry said. "I'm starving."
Willow stared at him, her mouth agape, "Are you serious? You act all paranoid and scare me half to death and then say you're hungry?"
Harry looked like a deer caught in headlights. "Er…I wasn't trying to scare you or anything, I was just asking about the people outside."
"Whatever," she lifted the candle, "Let's go get you something to eat before you wither away."
Willow set the candle down on the kitchen table and lit another. She rubbed at the gooseflesh blossoming on her arms. "Got suddenly chilly, hasn't it? I wish dad would let me light the fireplace. But noooo, I might burn the house down!"
Harry didn't seem to hear her. He was at the kitchen window, both hands pressed against the glass as he stared out.
"You're making me nervous, Harry—just stop being so paranoid!" said Willow, hugging her arms to herself as she tried to suppress a shiver.
Harry turned around, his face uneasy, "Sorry," he said anyway.
There were several, blinding flashes of lightning and the room lit up like strobe lights. As though accepting a challenge, thunder let out a loud roar of fury. Harry glanced back out the window, seemingly unaffected by the raucous weather outside. Willow, however, felt her heart pumping speedily within her ribcage. She didn't want him to know she was beginning to panic, though so she bit the insides of her cheeks until she tasted blood in an attempt to anchor herself.
"It's so cold," she said again, rubbing vigorously at her arms. "What happened to summer?"
Harry took several quick steps back from the window. Willow jerked to look at him, startled by his sudden movement. Even in the candlelight, she could see his face had turned bone white.
"What's wrong? What is it?" she demanded in a high voice. It had grown even colder and her teeth were beginning to chatter.
"Dementors."
A horrible spasm of panic gripped her, "Dementors?" Willow gasped. "Dementors here? Here?" Suddenly dizzy from fear, she backed up so fast she hit a kitchen chair and stumbled.
Harry had already pulled out his wand, not even appearing frightened, "Do you have your wand?" he asked harshly.
"Y-yeah," she pulled her wand out of her back pocket, her clammy hands slipping on the polished wood. "But I don't know the Patronus charm. We don't even learn that until seventh year!"
"Expecto Patronum."
"What?" Willow squeaked.
"That's the bloody charm!" Harry snapped back. "Expecto Patronum."
"Expecto Patronum. Expecto Patronum…" Willow repeated the charm to herself.
"Think of a happy memory," he continued, coming to stand beside her.
"I'm scared," she whispered.
"Don't be," he told her.
And that's when she felt it. The drowning sorrow swept into the room like a rush of stinging wind. The flames of the candles puffed out, plunging both Harry and Willow into an opaque darkness. They were surrounded by total, impenetrable, silent darkness, as though some giant hand had dropped a thick, icy mantle over the entire kitchen, blinding them.
Terror like she had never felt before came over Willow. She went rigid, paralyzed like a petrified animal ensnared in a trap, "H-Harry?" she said out in a terrified whisper.
"Happy memory!" he said harshly back at her.
"Harry?" she spoke louder this time, her teeth chattering from the cold and fear, her eyes nearly bulging as she strained to see. "I c-cant—w-where are you? We n-need to run! We need to ru—"
"Will you shut up?" Harry hissed, "I'm trying to lis—"
There was a crash and then everything was silent. Everything was still. It was though all the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. Even the rain seemed to have quieted down. Nothing moved. There was nothing but the gray-black and Harry's labored breathing.
And then she heard it. There was something outside the kitchen door, something that was drawing long, hoarse, rattling breaths. Willow felt a horrible jolt of terror.
She heard screaming and she jerked around only to find it wasn't Harry. The cries were frantic, begging and Willow clapped her hands over her ears, her wand clattering to the floor, forgotten.
The screams sounded as though they were coming from far away. She tried to open her mouth to scream as well, but water flooded her lungs. She was flailing her arms and limbs and couldn't seem to fight off the hands that held her beneath the surface. She opened her eyes to see a pair of brilliant green eyes staring down at her with a look of pure hatred that her four-year-old mind could barely comprehend.
"Willow! Willow!" another voice broke through, shouting at her frantically. "Think of a happy memory!"
But how could she? There was no happy memory left in the world. There was nothing but sadness and darkness and pain. She didn't even register her body hitting the floor with a dull thump.
And then everything went silent. No screaming. No fear. Just nothing.
***Canon Harry, AU world****
"Bloody hell, Willow!" Harry cursed as he heard the girl faint dead away, her body crumpling to the floor with a loud thump.
He lurched towards her and his foot caught a table leg. He hit the floor, his own wand flying away from him. "Oomph!" he scrambled to his hands and knees, his hands flying over the ground like spiders. "Where's—wand—come on—"
He started to hear the distant screams of his mother begging Voldemort to spare him. He shook his head and tried to focus his thoughts on the faces of his mother and father.
Crrreeaaaakkkk. The sound of the kitchen door swinging on its hinges sent chills shooting down his spine.
He went to jump to his feet and his head cracked against the underside of the table; his glasses went askew. Pain seared down his spine and he fell back, clutching his head where it hurt. My wand…my wand… He shook it off and got on hands and knees, feeling the floor for his wand.
An ear-splitting shriek jarred his senses. Harry spun around and once again he whacked his head on the wooden leg of the table and he saw stars. Bloody hell—what is my problem?! He couldn't see anything, but in the darkness, he could hear Willow rousing from her faint. He heard her struggling somewhere in front on him but he couldn't get his brain to cooperate with him. Her terrified screams intensified until the house echoed. He shook his head and scrambled back to his hands and knees.
"Lumos!"
He said the spell automatically, desperate for light to help him in his search—and to his disbelieving relief, light flared inches from his right hand—the wand-tip had ignited. Harry snatched it up, staggered to his feet, and turned around.
His stomach flipped over.
Three towering, hooded figure was gliding smoothly toward him, hovering over the ground, no feet or face visible beneath its robes, sucking on the night as it came.
The sound of rattling breath made his blood turn to ice. Willow's screams were abruptly cut short. No!
"Expecto Patronum!"
A silvery wisp of vapor shot from the tip of his wand. The Dementors paused, but the spell hadn't worked properly. He backed up frantically, tripping over his own feet, short of breath and watching in horror as he saw two of three dark creatures lean over Willow and reach out a scaly hand for her throat.
He mustered every tiny thread of happiness he could find, screwed up his eyes, the faces of his parents bursting clearly into his mind, and roared: "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
The room flooded with the silvery light of a magnificent stag erupting from his wand. The beautiful creature cantered forward, throwing its head back in a proud sort of way.
"GET THEM!" Harry bellowed, and with a rushing, roaring sound, the stag charged forward, its great antlers lowered and dangerous. The dark creatures reeled back, as weightless as darkness, their rattling breath filling the kitchen like bones clattering together. The stag charged again and the Dementors disappeared out the back door and vanished into the stormy night.
Harry's wand arm dropped and the stag slowly faded away. Harry stood there, shivering, spent of energy. He couldn't believe what just happened and he was stunned into incomprehension. It took him several minutes to remember Willow. He jerked towards her, fear like a beast in his throat. He didn't know what he'd do if the Dementors had managed to suck out her soul before he had conjured the Patronus. He used his wand to relight the candles and placed them next to her, examining her white face and using his hand to check her pulse on the side of her neck. He didn't know how a person looked after having their soul removed.
"Willow," he whispered, gently shaking her by the shoulder. "Willow, can you hear me?"
Her head lolled to one shoulder and she gave no response. He stood quickly, feeling a slight twinge of panic, and turned in a quick circle before lurching towards one of the drawers. He started searching for any sort of chocolate he could find. He pushed around silverware and threw aside cleaning cloths. He opened a cold cupboard and found, to his relief, a bottle of chocolate syrup.
Falling back down beside the motionless girl, he unscrewed the cap and squeezed a bit into a spoon. "Willow," he urged softly. "Eat this. It'll make you feel better." He pushed the spoon between her lips.
After a moment, she swallowed and a bit of color returned to her cheeks. He fed her another spoonful of the chocolate stuff and she swallowed more quickly this time. Two ticks passed and her eyes fluttered opened. She blinked a couple times and looked around.
Harry fell back onto his heels, relieved to see that she still seemed herself.
"What happened? You got rid of them?" she asked hoarsely, slowly pushing herself into a sitting position. She touched her fingers to her lips and wiped away some of the left over chocolate. Harry hurriedly made up another spoonful of syrup and handed it to her.
"Chocolate makes you feel better," he explained at the look of inquiry she gave him. "Lupin gave me chocolate when he taught how to repel Dementors. This is the only stuff I could find…" he drew in a deep, shuddering breath. "I thought they had gotten your soul."
Willow blinked back tears, "There's a bar of chocolate hidden in the top drawer by the cold cupboard."
Harry stood quickly and retrieved the bar. He returned and broke off a large piece and handed it to her.
"What about you?" she asked as she nibbled a corner of it.
"I'm fine," said Harry.
"You're shaking," she looked at him, her eyes fearful.
Harry realized she was right. Tremors were snaking up and down his limbs and icy cold sweat beaded his face and neck. His heart was continuing to thud in his chest. He took a bite of the chocolate and immediately felt warmth return to him.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, using the back of her hand to wipe off tears streaking down her face.
Harry looked down, feeling awkward to see a girl cry.
"I've never done a Patronus charm before," she said. "I've never even seen a Dementor before except in pictures."
"That's not a bad thing," Harry pointed out.
"It was the worst I've ever felt. I just…I don't…" Willow buried her face into her hands and burst into a torrent of tears.
Harry fidgeted with the wrapper of the chocolate bar, unsure of what to do. He gave her a quick pat on the shoulder but that didn't seem to help. He was used to Hermione bursting into tears on the spur of the moment but he had never really felt he had obligation to comfort her—it was just something Hermione did. Willow looked so pathetic sitting there, crying so hard that the tears ran down her arms. Harry cast about for something to say but only managed to lay a hand on her quivering shoulder, knowing it wouldn't be enough.
She sniffed nosily and pulled her hands away from her face, using the hem of her shirt to blot up her tears. "How'd you do it?" she asked in a nasally voice.
Harry removed his hand from her shoulder and retrieved her wand for her, "Professor Lupin taught me. We had Dementors guarding the castle after Sirius escaped my third year. They had a bad effect on me—worse than the other students so he found a boggart for me and I practiced until I got it."
Willow gave no answer. She nibbled on her chocolate and kept her eyes averted from Harry's. He felt bad for her, but also curious. He knew what it was like to have a Dementor's effect send him into a faint and he wondered about the worst memories she had and knew they had to be nearly as bad as Harry's.
Willow stuffed the last piece in her mouth and stood, albeit a little shaky. She looked around, frightened, "You don't think they'll come back, do you?"
Harry shook his head and stood as well, "No, I don't think so."
Willow looked fine by that. She wrapped her arms around her torso and cautiously approached the window to peer out at the stormy night. Harry watched her, somewhat worried she would faint again for some reason or another. He moved closer to her, deigning himself to catch her if she did.
She abruptly turned around, "I don't want to stay here."
Harry looked at her, unsure of how to respond to that, "Er, should we send an owl?"
She looked at him in annoyance, "Or we could use the floo, you dimwit."
"Do you know where your parents are?" asked Harry.
"They're at Sirius' old house where he grew up."
Harry gave her a quizzical look, "Really? I thought his parents were dark arts supporters or whatever."
"Well they're dead, of course, and they left the house to Sirius. I've heard it's the most heavily warded place in Britain. An underage wizard could use magic there and not be detected."
Harry thought that sounded ideal though having just used magic moments ago, he figured he didn't have any sort of trace on him for no letter had arrived telling him of his immediate expulsion.
Willow had left Harry to his musings and was walking hurriedly back to the fireside room, obviously keen on getting out of here. He followed her at a normal pace, feeling a stab of anxiety at the thought of facing James and Sirius and telling them that he had somehow led Dementors to their doorstep—why else would they've come?
A piercing scream made his heart jump. He burst into a run and found Willow in the fireside room, though she looked unharmed.
"What is it?" he demanded, jerking his wand around as he looked for the cause of her scream.
"My stupid cat!" she pointed at Artemis who was now cowering in the corner at the sound her mistress' cry. "Scared the bloody life out of me! I thought it was another Dementor!" Again she burst into wild tears and ran towards her startled cat. "Get!" she screeched at it. "Get out of here, you bloody cat!" The cat promptly fled the room, its hair standing on end.
Harry stared at her, feeling at a loss of what to do, "It's not the cat's fault," he said dumbly.
"Shut up!" she turned on him with a savage expression. "What do you know?" she lifted a vase holding several daffodils and flung it towards the wall. Harry jumped when it shattered and littered the floor with tiny bits of glass and droplets of water. She stood there wordlessly, staring at the mess she made, and used the back of her arm to wipe at her face.
"I'm sorry," she croaked, straightening her blouse haphazardly. She turned to look at him with puffy red eyes, her cherry hair now a stringy, tangled mess. "Merlin."
He looked at her bemusedly. Were all girls this confusing? He wondered, unsure of what to do next lest it threw her into another fit of rage and she ended up chucking the remaining vase at Harry's head. There was a long silence where the two of them stood awkwardly apart with the only light coming from the flickering candle Harry was holding. It cast odd, dancing shadows all about the room and even Harry had to admit it was a bit unsettling being here alone after the Dementors attack.
He felt another stab of fear at the thought of what James and Sirius would do to him now that they knew for sure that he was a threat to their family. He didn't know how the dark creatures had made it past the wards and he had a sickening idea of what had happened to Sturgis Podmore for he hadn't showed up yet.
"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked her finally, when he was sure she wouldn't attack him.
Willow kept her eyes away from him but nodded slightly.
Harry hesitated a beat before saying: "You know, I once passed out and fell fifty feet from my broom when a Dementor came around. They weren't supposed to be at the match but I guess they couldn't resist all the emotions or whatever."
Willow looked at him, her face splotchy from her recent outburst, "Did that really happen?"
"Yeah," said Harry uncomfortably, "I think Dumbledore slowed my fall. That wasn't even the first time I passed out because of them. Sometimes, the Dementors affect people worse than others."
"Why?"
"Because of the memories we have. They're worse than others."
Willow rubbed uneasily at her arm and looked away from him, chewing on her lower lip, "What memory do you have?" she asked hesitantly.
Harry didn't answer right away. He looked down at the weaving flame of the candle. "The night my parents were murdered," he said finally. "I can hear my mum asking Voldemort to kill her instead of me."
Willow stared at him, obviously horror stuck, "That's awful," she said in a voice that was barely a whisper.
Harry shrugged.
"They made me remember—" Willow's voice broke slightly and she cleared her throat, sniffling, "They made me remember the day my brother tried to drown me."
Harry thought he didn't hear right. He gaped at the girl, "Wait, what?"
Willow didn't repeat herself. She looked at him with swollen eyes that had begun to well with tears once more. "I hadn't thought about that for a long time—I don't even remember it all that well—but I guess you never really forget the worst moments of your life."
Harry had a billion questions he was burning to ask but wasn't sure of Willow's stability. The older Harry had tried to drown his younger sister? Really? What had provoked this world's Harry to attempt to kill his own family member? Harry knew that his older counterpart was something temper driven given to the fact that he had tried to choke him to death but this? This? He stared at the tall girl, searching for something appropriate say. But what was there? 'I'm sorry' seemed so flippant and 'I know how you feel' would be a blatant lie. Many things had happened to Harry in the course of fourteen years but no one had ever tried to drown him.
"We should probably go," muttered Willow, looking downtrodden. "I don't think I can stand another second here."
Before either of them could move, however, the fireplace burst into roaring green frames. Willow gave a small scream and backed up so fast she ran into Harry, causing him to spill hot wax on his arm.
His older counterpart stepped out of the fireplace and caught the two of them standing off to the corner of the room. "Fuck Merlin," he said, looking around. "The power go out again?"
Neither Willow nor Harry said anything. Behind the older Harry, the fireplace lit up and Remus stepped out and saw the three standing there staring at each other.
"What's going on?" he asked in mild curiosity. "Did the power go out again?"
Willow left Harry's side and rushed towards her godfather, throwing her arms around his middle and promptly burst into another round of tears. "Whoa," he said, startled. "What's wrong?"
"What did you do?" older Harry demanded, his demeanor changing in a split second.
Harry held up his free hand, his other still grasping the dripping candle, "I didn't—"
The rush of emerald flames interrupted Harry's defense and James stepped out, brushing soot off his jacket. He looked up and frowned, "Merlin, the power's out?"
"This kid did something to Willow!" Harry pointed at his younger self, his face angry as he advanced.
"Wait—"
"Are you serious?" James turned to look at Harry, his eyebrows clenched in sudden anger. "What on bloody earth did you do?"
Before Harry could even take a breath in, the fireplace lit up once more with brilliantly green flames that made Harry squint. Sirius stumbled out, grasping the side of the fireplace for balance.
He looked around the room, "Holy fuck, the power's out again? I told you to get rid of those muggle lights, Prongs!" he gestured at the ceiling light.
"Who cares about the damn lights!" Harry shouted. "Something happened to Willow!"
"What?" Sirius snarled, turning on Harry like a mad wolf.
"He didn't do anything!" Willow pulled away from Remus, her face streaked. "There were Dementors! They attacked us!"
A shocked silence followed suit. Remus grasped Willow by the upper arms and pulled her close, as though checking to see if she still had her soul. James and Harry both converged on her and James pulled her from Remus and hugged her tight before pulling back.
"What happened? Are you all right? Where's Podmore?" James asked, cupping her face and looking directly into her eyes. "Are you sure they were Dementors?"
The fireplace blazed bright green, cutting James' interrogation off. Lily came out of the fireplace, brushing her red hair out of face. "Oh Merlin," she said, her hands on her hips. "I can't believe the power went out again!"
"Lily," Sirius grabbed her arm, looking stricken. "Dementors were here."
Lily stared blankly at her husband. "Dementors?" she echoed. "That can't be—the wards—and Sturgis—he wouldn't—are you sure?" she rushed the few feet between her and Willow and began to exam her daughter, looking for any sort of sign that she was physically hurt.
"Start from the beginning," said the older Harry abruptly, his voice somewhat calmer this time.
"The lights went out and we went into the kitchen for something to eat and Harry saw something outside," Willow said, her voice slightly shaky. "I remembered everything went really cold and I felt awful…and…and then I fainted, I guess…" she looked at the younger Harry who had backed up until his back was touching the wall, his heart thudding in his throat. "Harry saved me," she finished in a tone of finality.
Everyone looked at him and Harry swallowed hard, hyper aware of the sweat rolling down his back. "There were three Dementors, I conjured a Patronus and drove them away."
"And then he gave me chocolate," Willow said, still staring at Harry.
Sirius stepped closer to the younger Harry, his face full of shocked disbelief. "You conjured a fully corporal Patronus and drove three Dementors away?"
"Yeah," Harry answered, his mouth feeling too dry. The candle wax was beginning to drip onto his bare hand, his heart still pounding as he waited for some sort of backlash. The wax was burning his skin but he felt too cornered to move.
"See, I told you!" Sirius shouted in the shocked silence. "Why else would Dementors be here except for him?" He jabbed a finger towards Harry who had started to shiver again.
James didn't contradict him; instead he said: "Remus, Harry, go outside and see what happened to Sturgis. Be careful and send a Patronus is anything goes wrong."
The older Harry pulled out his wand, "Be right back," he said and he and Remus disappeared down the hall.
"Mum, Harry saved me," Willow repeated. "It was awful…"
"Can I see this Patronus?" asked Sirius, still vehemently believing that Harry was trying to pull something underhanded. "I'm sorry but I've never heard of a thirteen year old producing a Patronus! I was fifteen before I managed it!"
"I'm fourteen," Harry spat, moving away from the wall and stepping towards Sirius, displaying a confidence he wasn't entirely feeling. He set down the candle and clenched his fists. "And I've known how to do a corporal Patronus since my third year. You're not the template for every Wizard out there; some have a better hand at Defensive Spells than others."
Behind him, someone spluttered. Harry jerked around and saw that his older counterpart and Remus had returned.
"Nicely said," the older Harry commented with a smirk. The smirk quickly faded though when he looked at his father. "There's no sign of Podmore anywhere. No sign of a struggle either."
"Where on earth could he have gone?" Lily gasped. "Dementors aren't known to carry people off!"
James was frowning and had nothing to say. He still had an arm around Willow's shoulder in a protective sort of way.
"Go on, then," older Harry said to his younger self. "Show us that Patronus."
Harry glanced at Sirius who was glaring off at a wall, his jaw visibly clenched. He cleared his throat and raised his wand, "Expecto Patronum," a split second and then a large, silver stag erupted from his wand and cantered a few steps forward, tossing its head and eying the occupants of the room.
There was a deafening silence. The stag did a small turn and then started to dissipate into glittering mist.
"Prongs," Remus murmured, staring at the spot where the stag had stood.
James gave no answer.
Harry lowered his wand, feeling shaky and a weird sort of relief. If they didn't believe who he was before, they had to now. He wondered why he just didn't do this before.
"Well," said the other Harry as he scratched the back of his head. "There's no denying that."
"See," Willow said with a shuddering breath. "He saved my life. He saved my life and then he gave me chocolate. There was a Dementor bending right over me and he saved my life."
"They wouldn't have been there in the first place if it wasn't for this-this 'Harry'," Sirius said, gesturing wildly. "Can't you guys see that? We congratulate him for holding off the things but he's the reason they were here!"
James turned on Harry in a jerk-like motion, his face twisted with several unreadable emotions. Harry took another step back.
"I didn't know they'd show up!" he said defensively as the man came towards him. "Look, I'm sorry!"
James reached for Harry's arm and jerked Harry towards him, and Harry squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the blow. Instead, he found his face smashed against James' broad chest. At first, he thought the man was trying to suffocate and kill him but people didn't usually wrap their arms around someone's shoulders and back in an attempt to end their life.
Immeasurable shock froze him stiff.
James held him so tightly Harry thought his head might pop off, but he didn't care. A strange, warm feeling, even better than the chocolate, spread through him; James' hand came up and held the back of Harry's head, his fingers carding through Harry's messy hair.
"Thank Merlin you're all right," he murmured against Harry's hair. "Thank you. Thank you for saving her."
It was like a large, painful splinter that had been under the skin for far too long and someone finally came and pulled it out. The withdrawal was painful but the release he felt immediately afterward was overwhelmingly wonderful. He felt his tense body relax and if James hadn't been holding him, he might've fallen right to the floor.
Was this how it was supposed to be? Was this how it was supposed to feel when your father hugged you?
There was no going back now.
The only way to get rid of the shadows is to turn off the lights, to stop running from the darkness, and to face what you fear head on
Sooo... I hope you liked it!
Most of the scenes I write are inspired by a song. I thought maybe you guys would like to know some of the major ones and listen to the song along with the scene. Most of the time, it's like a movie rolling in my head and the song matches with it. lol it's weird I suppose so here you go:
"Make it Without You" by Andrew Belle -while listening to this song, the scene with James hugging Harry in the end popped into my head. Hope you guys take the time to listen-great song!
Thanks again and I hope to hear your thoughts, comments, and concerns!
Until next time and Happy Literacy!
Story2Tell
