Adrift in a World

Adrift in a World

Chapter 11: Completely Unexpected

Minerva watched as the door opened slowly, and only admitted the tiniest bit of light from inside. She was earnestly hoping that Lockhart wasn't as big of a fool as Co—Potter insisted, if just to save her own pride.

Without really wanting to, her eyes slid over to the teenager in question. By his physical appearance, she was surprised that no one had realized who he really was. Sure, he more than likely had some sort of charm on himself, but someone should have recognized him before he got a wand.

His black hair, though longer than James, was no doubt as uncooperative when it was shorter. His facial structure was incredibly like James's as well, though scars (and glares, on occasion) stopped people from analyzing his appearance. His eyes weren't remotely like Lily's, though, because they were dark and shut off, rather than bright and full of emotion.

That issue aside... she shivered. James Potter, for all his judgments and occasional maliciousness in pranks, was nearly as far from being evil or Dark as Dumbledore himself. Lily also, while possessing a frightful temper, was completely Light. Holly and Rose, of course, were mixtures of their parents. There was no way, no way that the Potter in front of her could possibly fit in.

A tiny nagging voice in the back of her mind asked what had happened to make Harry the way he was, but Minerva dismissed it. There was no excuse for Dark magic, not even in Severus's case.

She sighed, wondering how she could tell James and Lily about this. It was bad enough that their son died, but that a Harry Potter from another universe could be so far from their hopes? She shoved the thought away, deciding to concentrate on the issue at hand.

Besides, she couldn't help but think that at the age of twelve, surely Potter wasn't that bad. She watched him and the slightly taller Ron Weasley shuffle nervously outside the door as it opened.

"Oh – Mr. Potter – Mr. Weasley –" Lockhart said, unable to conjure as brilliant a smile as usual. Minerva ignored the smirk directed at her from Severus, also trying to ignore the impulse to step on his foot once more. "I'm rather busy at the moment – if you would be quick –"

The twelve-year-old Harry looked nervously at Ron before turning back to Lockhart. "Professor, we've got some information for you. We think it will help you."

A quick look of confusion passed over Lockhart's face at the allusion to Lockhart's job of finding the monster, but it soon went away, replaced by a look of extreme discomfort.

"Er – well – it's not terribly –" Lockhart stopped as Harry's younger self put on a slightly in awe face, as if amazed to talk to the celebrity. "I mean – well – all right –"

The older Harry snickered. "What an idiot. I'd been running away from him in horror every time I saw him, and he still fell for that."

"Running away in horror?" Severus asked curiously.

Harry sighed. "It's a long story, but he was trying to give me advice as how to take advantage of my fame."

He turned to see their questioning expressions at the word 'fame'. "Don't ask. You really don't want to know."

The three followed the two second-years into Lockhart's office, which was completely dismantled. Snape looked around in disgust at the life-size pictures of Lockhart adorning the walls, all in various states of primping, and piles of hideously colored robes stuffed in trunks. The look deepened as he saw steadily falling stacks of fan mail being hastily put in order on the desk.

"Are you going somewhere?" The younger Harry asked in a slightly cold tone, also eying the room with dislike. Despite the seriousness of the occasion, he discretely kicked one of the robes into the sooty fireplace, and Ron toppled a stack of mail into a wastebasket that magically Vanished the contents.

"Obnoxious little heathens, weren't you?" Minerva asked, though with a small bit of amusement.

Harry grinned wickedly. "Most definitely."

"Er, well, yes," Lockhart answered, rolling up a poster of himself and stuffing it into a like-wise stuffed trunk. "Urgent call – unavoidable – got to go –"

The two students shared a look of deep skepticism, though the redhead was slightly angry as well.

"What about my sister?" He ground out, now glaring at the loosely-titled 'Professor'.

"Well, as to that – most unfortunate –" Lockhart tried to avoid their eyes. "No one regrets more than I –" But Harry was having none of it.

"You're the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!" He said, and the older Harry winced at how young and naïve he sounded. "You can't go now! Not with all the Dark stuff going on here!"

"Well – I must say – when I took the job – nothing in the job description – didn't expect –" Lockhart fumbled around for his socks, which the second years were looking at as if they'd like nothing more than to catch them on fire.

"You're mean you're running away?" Harry asked in a scandalized tone, which Ron also copied by facial expression. "After all that stuff you did in your books--"

Lockhart tried to put on a sly expression, but it failed and he went with bland. "Books can be misleading."

"Ha!" The older Harry said out loud in victory, and Minerva blushed.

"Fine, fine, I'll go and transfigure his books into suitable items later. Can we watch the memory now?"

Harry rolled his eyes and allowed the focus to go back to the memory, though a gleam in both his and Snape's eyes promised bringing this up at a later date.

"You wrote them!" The younger Harry yelled indignantly.

Lockhart now decided to adopt a chastising expression. One that had grated on Harry's nerves then and grated on them now.

"My dear boy, do use your common sense. My books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think I'd done all those things. No one wants to read about some ugly old Armenian warlock, even if he did save a village from werewolves. He'd look dreadful on the front cover. No dress sense at all. And the witch who banished the Bandon Banshee had a harelip. I mean, come on –"

"So you've just been taking credit for what a load of other people have done?" Harry asked, and rolled his eyes when Lockhart began to deny it. Ron, on the other hand, had a decidedly smug expression on.

"Harry, Harry." Lockhart shook his head as if pitying Harry's lack of intelligence. "It's not nearly as simple as that. There was work involved. I had to track those people down. Ask them exactly how they managed to do what they did. Then I had to put a Memory Charm on them so they wouldn't remember doing it. If there's one thing I pride myself on--"

Ron, both Harrys, and Snape all muttered, "One thing?"

"--it's my Memory Charms. No, it's been a lot of work, Harry. It's not all book signings and publicity photos, you know. You want fame, you have to be prepared for a long hard slog."

As if punctuating his rather pathetic speech, Lockhart snapped shut his trunks and turned to face the two.

"Let's see, I think that's about everything. Yes. Only one thing left."

Minerva's eyes widened as Lockhart aimed his wand at Harry and Ron, while Severus's narrowed.

"Awfully sorry, boys, but I'll have to put a Memory Charm on you now. Can't have you blabbing my secrets all over the place. I'd never sell another book –"

The younger Harry quickly pulled his wand out of his pocket and aimed it directly at Lockhart. "Expelliarmus!"

Lockhart flew the air from the force of Harry's anger-driven spell, dropping his wand in the process. Ron, grinning savagely, grabbed the wand and threw it out a nearby window, where Harry saw, now that he was tall enough, to see that it nearly hit Albus Dumbledore, who was walking up the steps to the castle.

"Shouldn't have let Professor Snape teach us that one," Harry snarled as he kicked a trunk out of the way. The older Harry now realized why others had thought him capable of opening the Chamber. He really was kind of frightening when furious.

"What do you want me to do?" Lockhart sniveled, making Minerva mutter a few choice words about being held at wand-point by a preteen. "I don't know where the Chamber of Secrets is. There's nothing I can do."

"You're in luck," Harry answered, motioning for Lockhart to get up. "We think we know where it is. And what's inside it." Harry looked at Ron, who had been using a recording spell that Hermione taught them in December to record Malfoy's confession. It was one of the few spells that didn't cause mayhem due to Ron's broken wand. The redhead grinned in triumph and nodded at Harry's questioning glance. Lockhart's confession had been recorded. "Let's go."

"What was the point of bringing Lockhart with you?" Minerva asked looking thoroughly disgusted with Lockhart. "Surely he wasn't helpful."

"No, but Ron and I could hardly leave him there. We wouldn't let him escape and flee the country or find another wand and Obliviate us." Harry answered, as they trailed the three heading towards Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. "Not to mention, if there was a Basilisk, Ron and I hardly wanted to be killed first."

Minerva gaped at the viciousness in his voice. "Twelve years old, and you were planning to let Lockhart be bait."

"Nonsense!" Harry answered. "He was big enough to block Ron and me from view of a Basilisk. Why lose that advantage by offering him up for bait?"

Snape stifled a chuckle at Minerva's expression.

"See? Look," Harry pointed as Ron and his younger self pushed Lockhart into the bathroom first, smirking as the man trembled as he walked in.

Moaning Myrtle glared sorrowfully as the six walked in.

"Oh, it's you," she huffed at Harry in annoyance. "What do you want this time?"

The older Harry chuckled at the memory of the cross Myrtle occasionally crossing his path during sixth year, always grumbling about never being visited.

"To ask how you died," Harry answered.

"Oh, wonderful," Snape complained. "Now the dreadful ghost is going to start wailing."

Instead of the predicted wailing, Myrtle looked rapturously at Harry and fluttered her eyelashes, looking absolutely flattered

"Ooh, it was dreadful," she began the tale, and Ron and Harry rolled their eyes, as well as the three watching the memory. "It happened right in here. I died in this very stall. I remember it so well. I'd hidden because Oliver Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying," ("Hufflepuff," Snape muttered dismissively) "and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a boy speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then –" Myrtle paused with obvious relish, her eyes shining.

"I died."

o--o

"Found what, exactly?" Dumbledore asked, rather put out that Fawkes refused him entrance to the Hospital Wing. "The Chamber?"

"So we think. When Moaning Myrtle walked into your office, she seemed like she knew what was going on, but didn't really want to tell us. She appeared again when Lily and Peter were trying to find any unexplained passages in those old maps. Something about Oliver Hornby and a different language."

"Hmm," Dumbledore answered, but walked next to Remus towards the second floor.

"Lily said that the only situation that made sense would be for the Chamber to somehow be connected to Myrtle's bathroom. Since the ghost didn't get to tell everyone that herself, she flew off in a huff. We're rounding everyone up to meet there now."

They walked towards Myrtle's bathroom in silence, Albus thinking about the ramifications of the Chamber of Secrets actually existing in the school. I was amazing to think that a Basilisk and a Justern could have been roaming the hallways of his school for all these years... It really was a miracle no students had been injured or killed.

He pulled out his wand as the two met the group huddled around the doorway. There was an odd rustling sound inside, and Albus told everyone to get their wands out. "Be prepared to cover your eyes, in case the Basilisk is up and restless."

As soon as everyone complied, Albus moved to the front of the group and pushed the door open with his foot. Everyone was holding their breath in anticipation and nervousness, until --

"BOO!"

With exclamations of surprise, the group jumped at hearing the voice of Hogwarts's residential annoyance. Peeves.

"Ha Ha! Thought little Peevesy was a snake, did they? Hee hee hee!" The poltergeist flew out of the bathroom, performing back flips in the air and blowing raspberries at the annoyed witches and wizards. "'Course, invading Miss Myrtle's toilet is not the politest thing to do!"

Myrtle floated out the doorway, giggling at the still startled and angry looks, but squeaked in horror as the Marauders and the Prewitt brothers grinned evilly at her.

"Now, now," Peeves interrupted, standing in front of Myrtle in an exaggerated hero pose, arms akimbo and face tilted at a supposedly dashing angle. "No threatening Miss Myrty!"

Myrtle giggled again, until Peeves spun around, tweaked Myrtle's nose, ignoring the resulting high-pitched "Ow!", and flew off through a wall.

Albus sighed, not realizing how close they truly were to their target and that Myrtle had, in fact, been telling the truth earlier. "Back to square one, I suppose."

The group dispersed, back to their researching or manual searching, lowering scathing glares at the ghost or cracking their knuckles threateningly.

o--o

"Who first?"

Harry looked at his two companions. The three of the memory had already slid into the Chamber of Secrets (or, in Lockhart's case, been pushed with much glee), but no one was willing to follow them.

"I refuse to go first," Minerva said firmly. "You Slytherins with grimy, slimy snake holes. One of you two will be going first."

"I'm a Gryffindor, I'll have you know," Harry said indignantly, and that odd expression fixed itself on Minerva's face for an instant, before leaving, making Harry almost wonder if he had just imagined it. "Make Snape go first."

They both turned to stare down Snape, who raised an eyebrow sardonically. "Not a chance."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Harry exclaimed. "We're missing the best part!"

With that, he pushed Minerva down the entrance way, who started falling with a shriek, then jumped down himself, knowing that Snape's curiosity would make him follow.

The tunnel was as dank as he remembered, covered with dirt and slime that had never seen the light of day. He smirked, though, seeing the deep chunk of sludge that had most likely latched onto Minerva.

Chuckling as he slid down the grimy slide, he did not expect an ambush just after landing. But as soon as he came out of the slide, Minerva's boot entered his field of vision, aiming directly for his arm.

"Bloody Hell!" Harry yelped as the force of the kick made him fly off sideways and bang into the wall.

He rubbed his arm as he gingerly stood up, just as Severus came down the slide, looked as aloof as always, and, Harry thought snidely, only a trifle more greasy than usual. Then he turned back to McGonagall.

"What was that for, you mad woman!"

"What was that for? WHAT WAS THAT FOR!" Minerva yelled in anger. "Harry James Potter, you pushed me down here. That's what that was for!"

"It's not like you came to bodily harm or anything," Harry groused as Minerva muttered in anger and Severus began to chuckle. "Stop laughing Snape."

Still grumbling about the unexpected attack, Harry led the way down the passage to where the voices were coming from.

"Lumos," he muttered, despite knowing that his other self had already lit his wand. Harry wanted to see exactly how the cave-in started. "Demosta."

Minerva sighed with relief as the grime, which had become very interactive, disappeared from the three of their cloaks, and then narrowed her eyes at Harry.

"I've never heard that spe-- Never mind," she said firmly. "I don't want to know."

Harry let out a bark of laughter. "Light magic, Professor, I swear."

She sniffed indignantly, and Harry let it go. It was probably more of a slightly shadowy spell than actually Light or Dark.

"Remember," echoed Harry's twelve-year-old voice, "any sign of movement, close your eyes right away..."

"Co-Potter," Minerva asked shakily, "you didn't meet anything unexpectedly, did you?"

"Yes," Harry answered. "Just up the turn. But don't worry, we made it out alive."

"Harry! There's something up there," Ron suddenly exclaimed hoarsely, making Minerva gasp.

But nothing happened.

"Maybe it's asleep," the other Harry suggested, and then stepped forward to look at it. His wand revealed the green tail of a huge Basilisk.

Minerva yelled at the memory's Harry to get away, and then fell silent as the light shone more fully on it, revealing it to be nothing more than a snake-skin.

Harry kept his face emotionless as Minerva turned toward him angrily. "Funny, Potter," she ground out, and Harry calmly raised one eyebrow.

"I thought so," he responded, then watched as Lockhart fell to the ground.

"Get up," Ron snapped, pointing his wand at him, only to have Lockhart tackle him and steal the broken wand.

The memory Harry jumped forward, his eyes widening as Lockhart prepared to use the faulty wand. Then the twelve-year-old stopped, with a slightly malicious gleam in his eye.

"The adventure ends here, boys!" Lockhart exclaimed. "I shall take a bit of this skin back up to the school, tell them I was too late to save the girl, and that you two tragically lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body -- say good-bye to your memories!"

"Good grief," Harry muttered as he watched the memory. "I forgot how much Lockhart favored monologuing. He did it enough in class."

"Obliviate!" Lockhart yelled, and promptly flew backwards as the wand exploded.

Harry watched this part with narrowed eyes and followed the path of the wand core as it floated through the air, then daintily touched a stone of a rough engraving of a snake.

And the tunnel imploded.

The three watched, uninjured by the flying rocks, as Ron and Harry dove for cover, though separated by a solid wall of rocks.

Harry not having seen this part chuckled as Lockhart looked around with a completely befuddled expression that would have matched those of Crabbe and Goyle.

Harry's muffled shout came through the rock wall, and Ron yelled back. "I'm here! I'm okay! This git's not, though, he got blasted by the wand."

Ron glared at the now mumbling form of Lockhart and kicked him in the shin.

The celebrity responded with an undignified, "Ow!"

Harry motioned to the two professors. "Come on. We need to get to the other side."

He looked at the wall critically, and then put his hand against it, nodding as it pushed through. 'This is simple,' he thought as he walked through the wall and once more saw his twelve-year-old self, who was beginning to panic a bit. However, the memory Harry shook out of it at the sound of another whining, "Ow!" from Lockhart.

"You're wasting time," Harry muttered worriedly as Minerva and Snape walked through the wall. His memory self was spending an awful long time staring at the rocks. As Harry's voice echoed slightly, the memory Harry snapped out of it and began to move again.

Harry froze as he realized what he had said. He remembered that voice entering his thoughts five years ago. You're wasting time. Surely he wasn't influencing this. He wasn't under the effects of a time-turner.

But they weren't in a Pensieve, either. How...

Harry turned on his aptly titled 'Hermione voice', the one he used whenever studying or thinking through something. He had heard Hermione mutter her way through situations before, and had stolen her method.

He didn't know how they had gotten into this memory. He had just thought about how to get to it.

The Justern poison was a completely unknown substance. It just somehow trapped him in his mind and caused temporary amnesia.

He paced back and forth ignoring the strange looks from Minerva and Severus. Maybe it wasn't a memory at all. Maybe they had actually entered his mind DURING the event!

Harry concentrated on reading the thoughts of his other self, which was embarrassingly easy since he had had no Occlumency training before this. Right now the twelve-year-old was plotting on how to get Ron through the wall.

"You don't have time for that!" Harry snapped at his younger self, continuing to ignore the odd looks he was getting. "That would take hours. Leave Ron and get Ginny by yourself!"

"Wait there," the twelve-year-old obediently yelled through the rock. "Wait with Lockhart. I'll go on... If I'm not back in an hour..."

Harry's eyes widened during the pause, as Severus's eyes narrowed trying to figure out what was going on. It had worked!

"I'll try to shift some of this rock," Ron said back, his voice barely steady. "So you can...get back through." There was a pause as if Ron was about to say else.

Harry didn't remember Ron actually saying anything, so told himself to go, just as Ron said, "and, Harry..."

"See you in a bit," the black-haired twelve-year-old said firmly, though shakily.

And he walked towards the black tunnel, continuing alone.

"Potter," Snape said in the silence, "what was that?"

"I don't think we're in a memory," he responded. "Or the dirt would never have stuck to us, and our feet wouldn't be crunching right now.

"I think we're actually here, in the Chamber, in my mind five years ago."

o--o

Lily paused in her search through old records of school events.

They were searching through everything possible to find the location of the Chamber and the Basilisk. Just in case Severus and Minerva couldn't reach Collins, or the memory.

Or if Collins didn't make it out of whatever coma the poison had put him in.

She shivered as she thought about that. She didn't really know him, and she knew that her husband, Sirius, Remus, and Peter would kick him out of the castle sooner than talk to him. But she couldn't help but link that strange feeling she had every once in a while to him. Maybe her magic just sensed he wasn't from this world, or that the Dark Magic surrounding Collins was warning her away, but she didn't think that that was all of it.

She slammed the journal shut, and then smiled sheepishly in apology as heads turned to glare at her.

Lily shook her head, knowing she was being ridiculous. That odd feeling plaguing her was just warning her that something was off, and that she should keep her children away from Collins. Molly Weasley had often tried to explain a sort of sixth sense to her, one that warned her when one of her sons had picked the lock to the broom cupboard, and had followed her for a year when the Malfoy boy, Draco, had tried several times to send her twins to Voldemort.

The twins, of course, had created an array of pranks that mocked Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

Maybe that was it, she convinced herself. A sixth sense was bothering her, because Collins was proficient in Dark Magic. And he regularly scoffed at the mention of You-Know-Who, which would surely put anyone in proximity with him in danger.

Remus was right, she thought as she rifled through a box of parchment. Keep Holly and Rose away.

o--o

The three followed the younger Harry as he walked alone towards a wall covered in engraved and painted snakes, all with glimmering jeweled eyes and wickedly sharp fangs.

Two snakes in particular stood out, being deeply etched in the stone. The younger Harry stepped forward, looking at the snakes with suspicion and a little awe.

"Open," he hissed, and both Minerva and Severus winced at the harsh, whispery sound.

All four stepped through the doorway, the sound of breath unnervingly loud in the stone Chamber.

"Lumos," Severus muttered, and the room developed shadows that twisted out of the five foot radius of light. "Impressive."

Harry looked around himself as his younger self ran towards Ginny. "It really is, isn't it?" Harry said back, only now being able to appreciate the Chamber.

The walls were covered with life-like engravings of snakes, though they all had stones of deep onyx for eyes rather than emeralds. The ceiling was far from sight, but Harry could tell from the endless echoing that it was at a very lofty height.

Only Minerva seemed unimpressed, as she wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the cold and figurative chill. "What I wouldn't give for a fireplace and a couple of rugs."

Harry laughed, imagining the room redecorated with deep red and gold carpets, squashy armchairs, and dozens of Gryffindor scarfs forgotten and drooping all over the place. "How horrifying, defacing Slytherin's Chamber right in front of his life-size stone statue."

The two professors whirled around, starting as they saw the giant face of Salazar Slytherin. "What do you mean, 'life-size'...?" Snape stopped and glared menacingly as he realized what Harry was saying. Minerva covered her mouth in a vain effort to stifle her laughter at the sight of the enormous head of Slytherin, which, with all the pureblood mania Slytherin had spouted, was probably the actual size of his head.

"Funny, Potter," Snape snapped in return. "Too bad that Justern didn't fatally poison you."

Harry grunted in return, hands clenching as if trying to throttle the dead creature. He hadn't realized until too late how deadly the creature was, and Harry knew he was lucky to escape the encounter with his life. In fact, Harry was certain a particular prophecy was behind that stroke of luck...

"You said we were actually here, right?" Minerva asked as Fawkes appeared, the Sorting Hat in claw.

"I think so," Harry answered. "I remember feeling someone yell at me in front of the caved-in passage, and there's no way that could happen in just a memory.

"So the Basilisk is real, too?"

"Erm, maybe?"

"I suggest," Severus commented, watching as Slytherin's mouth opened and a huge creature began to stir from inside, "that since we now know where the Chamber of Secrets is, and how to get there, that we no longer need to be here?"

The three stared transfixed as Riddle yelled in Parseltongue and the snake swung its head their direction.

"Seconded," Harry exclaimed, and yanked them out of the memory.

They appeared back in the stone cave, right next to the destroyed door Harry had come through earlier.

There was silence for a minute as they all realized how close to discovering how it felt to lock eyes with a Basilisk.

"Well," Harry began in a light-hearted voice, "that's something to research: would the Basilisk have actually killed us?"

"Why don't you volunteer and find out?" Minerva snapped, and Harry raised one eyebrow.

"No need to be so testy about a brush with death. It's not like it's that unusual or anything," Harry said. "Now, if you try dying by proving Hogwarts, A History wrong... that's a fun and unusual way to die."

Harry didn't even bother to explain that one, but grinned in remembrance of pretending to Apparate out of the Great Hall, then frowned at the remembrance of having to do his History of Magic Homework by himself.

Maybe not such a fun way to die.

"How do we get out of here?" Minerva asked, deciding to ignore any comments from Harry. "We found the memory of the Chamber, and found him," she pointed in Harry's direction, "and his identity. Now what?"

The two professors fell into a muttered conversation, which seemed to be specifically designed to exclude Harry. Feeling nervous now that his time as Chris Collins was most certainly up, Harry sat down with his eyes closed and tried to make contact with his Occlumency shields. They would no doubt be instrumental to getting out of here.

He cracked an eye open in curiosity before settling down. Why exactly did his mind consist of stony passageways?

Concentrate, he thought to himself and focused once more on his mental shields. They seemed the same as always, a smoky gray that twisted and turned as if created by an unseen fire. The inside of an Occlumency Shield was personalized to each, but Harry still had no idea as to why his shield was representative of smoke. He hadn't asked anyone, either, because it was such a personal thing. One book had likened telling someone what the inside of your shield looked like to revealing every single one of your secrets, and every single one of your thoughts. Harry doubted he would ever be able to do that.

Shaking his head free of distracting thoughts, Harry critically examined the wall. There wasn't anything obviously wrong with it, but Harry placed a mental hand on it just to be sure. If they were unaffected, then it would feel like touching a wall, then sliding your hand through water.

Gasping in pain, Harry's eyes flew open and he yanked his physical hand back protectively. The shield felt as if it was trying to trying to burn his hand off, as waves as magical energy reverberated to the spot he had touched.

His hand shaking, Harry turned it around to see if the burn left any physical mark, not surprised to see the fingertips turning an ugly reddish purple. He narrowed his eyes at the deeper colors, which were configured into ruins on his fingertips.

"Monumentum... omitto... sum fui futurus... invenio," Harry muttered. "What the bloody Hell does that mean? 'Memories lost—to be found?'" Then his eyes widened in realization. He prodded the back corner of his mind. Visions of Voldemort, memories of attacks, death, battles... He had known earlier it was lighter, but hadn't realized... "Nooo."

o--o

Severus walked over to Minerva. "Now what?"

"Dear Merlin, I don't know," Minerva answered, combing her fingers through her hair in frustration. "Do you mean 'how do we get out of here' or 'how do we deal with him being a Potter?'"

"Both or either." Severus dropped his guard, having been friends with Minerva for too long to bother. "How is Lily going to react to this?"

They both remembered the night the Harry of this world had been killed. Almost everyone had been at an Order meeting at Hogwarts. Lily had decide to leave Harry under the care of Toni Armadis, Sirius's (as was later discovered) soon-to-be fiancé. Toni had turned down the invitation to join the Order, saying that it would cross too many lines of her Ministry job. Molly had also left her youngest son Ron under her care, wisely deciding that while Bill and Charlie could take care of the twins, an additional almost two-year-old would be too much.

The Halloween meeting had almost drawn to a close when the Floo in Dumbledore's office shot into action, and, as green flames sprang into fiery activity, Ron Weasley appeared, crying Toni's name hysterically and covered in soot.

Everyone had rushed into action, though James and Lily beat everyone to the fireplace. They instantly departed for Toni's apartment, but it was too late.

The Aurors figured it all out a couple days later. Voldemort had easily overcome the wards over Toni's home, leaving the magical shreds behind in flagrant disregard. He had burst through the front door and, ignoring Toni and Ron at first, moved straight for Harry.

Voldemort had apparently not considered the Killing Curse as enough insurance of the child's death, so had quickly incanted a complicated ritual that completely eradicated the boy's soul. Harry Potter couldn't even be a ghost, let alone have his soul go towards the others that had passed on. If a portrait had been made of the small child, the Auror coldly explained, even that would no longer be animated.

Harry Potter hadn't just died, he ceased to exist.

Lily not being able to stand the undercurrent of the Auror's tone, which quite plainly said that as a half-blood the boy wasn't worth anything, and had executed an amazing uppercut and shrieked a primal cry of rage that became sort of a tall tale among the Auror Academy. All new recruits were told the dangers of antagonizing anyone with red hair or mothers of young children.

Once a replacement Auror had been found, since the other needed immediate hospital care (and a security guard), the story continued. Toni, knowing that she would have no chance to beat the feared wizard but having no desire to just cut and run, leaving Harry to his fate, dove towards the fireplace to push Ron through, before standing and glaring straight at Voldemort.

She had died quickly, the Aurors told a Sirius with dark eyes and a pulsing jaw, and from her bruised knuckles, it was obvious that she had tutored Lily in the fine art of punching.

Regardless of the proud gleam that had come to his eyes at the thought of his girlfriend slugging Voldemort, he had never been the same.

And neither had Lily.

They had both thrown themselves into their pursuits, Lily: her family and the Order, and Sirius: the Marauders, his godchildren, and the Order.

"She won't take it well," Minerva answered. "It'll just wake up all the old memories. I don't think she'd be able to stand it. Suddenly having her child reappears, seventeen years old and a Dark Wizard?" She shivered. "The Fates must be in a cruel mood."

"We have to tell Albus at the very least," Severus warned, and Minerva nodded. "Who knows what this means for the fight against the Dark Lord. Remember that old prophecy that pertained to both Potter and Longbottom?"

Minerva's eyes widened. She had completely forgotten about that. Only Albus, Severus, and herself knew about it, none of them seeing any reason to tell the Potters and the Longbottoms that their dead (or insane) children were the only hope against Voldemort.

"Personally," Severus spoke up again, "I'm a bit concerned about Co—Potter himself."

"Why?" Minerva asked. "I know that he was suddenly dropped into a world where his parents and Black are alive, but what other concerns?"

Severus sneered at her narrow grasp on the situation, only to be glared at. "What happens when everyone discovers who he is, only to reject him? I have no doubt he is already somewhat unbalanced, Minerva. How could he not be? But it could throw him over the edge of sanity."

The witch turned to look at Harry, whose eyes were glazed over in the manner of those looking at their Occlumency shields. She had no doubt Severus was right, as he had much more study into psychology than she herself did. And how much could one seventeen-year-old take?

They both started as Harry gasped, his eyes reverting to their normal state and his outstretched right hand purpling and reddening as if burned.

The person of their discussion muttered to himself a bit before his eyes widened. "Nooo," he moaned as if he had lost part of himself.

"What is it, Potter?" Snape snapped, unnerved by the sound of loss.

Harry shook himself out of it, and glared at Snape. "Can't get through my Occlumency shield."

"That's hardly a big deal. Just lower it."

"Funny, Snape. Thanks for that wonderful advice that I never would have thought of for myself," Harry snapped back. "I think you misunderstood. I can't get through to my Occlumency shield." He held up his burned hand with the runes clearly in sight.

Snape swore. "Some of your memories are gone?"

Harry gritted his teeth at the phrasing of that. The Occlumency training required blocking of part of your memories in order to organize another part, and none who went through that forgot how horrible it was to live with only a fraction of yourself, as the memories you could access were the only ones to draw a personality from. Luckily, each chunk of separated memories were weaved together, so to retrieve a section during meditation, you just had to relive one of each group.

Hopefully it was the same thing in this case, or they would be there for quite a while.

"Such a lovely way of putting it," Harry snarled, and Snape looked momentarily apologetic.

"Maybe they're in that horridly organized trunk," Minerva joked, not having studied so far into the Mind Arts and therefore not realizing the seriousness of it. "Seems like anything could get lost in there."

Latching on to the hope (even if it was sarcastic) Harry desperately tried to envision the trunk he had seen amidst his amnesia, and, hoping that it worked as well a getting to the Chamber of Secrets, tried to transport them all there.

As his vision refocused, Harry ran for the trunk hastily opening the lid. He groaned as he looked at all the miscellaneous stuff crammed into it. "I should have listened to Hermione, and organized all my belongings. This really is ridiculous.

"What am I missing?" He softly asked himself. Since those memories were missing, and the ones that directly alluded to them were a bit fuzzy, Harry had no earthly clue which items would bring his memories back.

His hand snaked out to grab a Snitch that had tried to make a bid for freedom. No, he had all his memories of Quidditch and the practices, even the memory of the World Cup.

Releasing the Snitch, which began to circle and dart about the room, much to Severus's annoyance as it repeatedly flew into of his line of vision to land on McGonagall's shoulder, Harry began to slowly grow through the items, discarding them to the side as he reviewed all the memories that the objects might represent.

But slowly, another stack collected a few items. Rare objects that brought a blank to Harry's mind, though thankfully these moments were few and far between, until the trunk was empty and a pile to Harry's right had three items in it.

"I have absolutely no idea what these are supposed to mean," Harry said aloud, and picked up a small knickknack that was spherical in shape but filled with a foggy purple mixture with green feathers decorating part of it, "let alone what some of these things are."

Testing the weight of the sphere in his hand, Harry tossed it up and down a few times, before rearing back and throwing it against the wall of the room.

"Potter!" Minerva yelped in shock. "What was that--"

She paused as a purple door appeared where Harry had thrown the object.

Harry next threw a bloody dagger at the wall, wincing as the room shuddered angrily when it pierced the wall until he apologized, and a brown sweater with horrid orange puffs covering it.

The sweater refused to fly through the air, though, until Harry stuffed it into a ball-like shape and lobbed it at the door, which was now a door with faded and scraped purple paint and and a rusty door handle, as opposed to the disgustingly bright and purple door it had been after the first object.

The three looked at the door with obvious misgivings, before turning to look at each.

"I really don't want to go in there," Harry said, and the other two couldn't completely disagree with him.

"I myself am a bit anxious as to what the dagger represented," Minerva said, thinking it must represent memories of being held hostage by Voldemort.

"Forget the dagger," Harry responded. "I'm more worried about what that sweater represents."

"Regardless," Snape interrupted, "none of us have any intention of staying here forever, so through the door you must go."

"Yes, Yoda," Harry retorted, before grabbing the handle door and opening it.

"Wait!" Minerva exclaimed. "Last time--"

But the sudden swirling wind cut off anything she was going to say, and all three were vacuumed through the door, none of them happy about the situation.

o--o

They landed in a room that didn't look too far off from the inside of the trunk. Harry looked around at the shelves of strange items and odd antiques, all basking under rewired neon lights and lamps of various shapes and sizes.

"This is wonderful," Severus grumbled in the background. "We get to shadow a seventeen-year-old who's trying to find his memories."

"Shut up, Snape," Harry said back. "It's not as if I wanted you here."

"That's hardly a legitimate retort," Snape answered loftily, but was interrupted before he could retort.

"Perhaps they caught some Snoozles and just kept them in the back," a whimsical voice said, and Harry started as his own voice answered.

"I surprised they don't have Huffalumps and Woozles here, actually."

"Don't be silly, Harry, the Forbidden Forest is hardly one hundred acres," Luna answered as they both rounded the corner of an aisle.

"How forgetful of me. Snoozles it is!" The other Harry answered, picking up a nearby stuffed animal and tossing it at Luna.

"Oh, is that the way this is going to be?" Luna picked up the animal and looked at Harry threateningly.

"Erm, yes?" Luna got a steely glint in her eye. "No! I said no!"

Luna laughed and tossed the animal back to Harry. "That's what I thought. Where are Hermione and Ronald?"

"Probably competing to see who can devour the most, either Ron with his chocolates or Hermione with her books."

"My money's on Hermione." Luna answered, looking at a glass bottle that looked like a pair of spectacles. "But with Ronald, you never know."

"With what Ginny just did to Ron's food last night, I'd be surprised if he ever eats again," Harry responded, fiddling with a small globe full of different colors of sand. Far from the Muggle jars of sand that had variations from pure white to deep brown, this one had colors from pale blue to dazzling orange.

The two teenagers looked at each, and then burst into laughter.

"Ronald not eating," Luna said with a giggle. "And people call me insane."

"Oy! I heard my name!" Ron poked his head above an aisle, easily as tall as the shelves. "And it had better only be mentioned in connection to the words 'roguishly handsome' or 'Supreme Wizard of All'."

"Oh, yes, Ron," Harry said, rolling his eyes while grinning at Luna. "You know I think you're roguishly handsome."

"O Supreme Wizard of All, all of mankind bows down to you," Luna added, placing a wig of green hair on Harry, who reciprocated by placing a piece of flesh-colored plastic over Luna's head to make here appear bald.

"Actually," Ron said with a glare at Harry, "I'd be fine with a certain half of mankind proclaiming that."

Ron winced as Hermione, who had apparently been standing nearby for quite sometime, cleared her throat. "I suggest specifying which half, by the way, and stand on that ladder properly before you break something."

Harry and Luna snickered at Ron, but quickly subsided as Hermione turned to them. "And you two need to stop flirting so ridiculously. Even Neville's noticed you dancing around each other, and it takes a powerful amount of denial for him to realize something is going on."

"Yes, Harry," Luna pinned him down with a glare. "Stop flirting with me and ask me out. I have a busy schedule, you know. I won't stand for being ignored any longer."

Harry grinned and struck a pose as if acting on stage.

"Oh Luna of my heart, I have wronged you in so long ignoring your beautiful blond locks, you deep soulful eyes, and your clanking Butterbeer necklace. Oh Luna of my heart, my soul has been pining for a reason I know not, until I'm once more graced with your presence. How could I ever have lived without you! And, um, well I can't ask you to Hogsmeade. We're here already and, er..."

"Cough-Christmas Ball-cough," Hermione added without an ounce of subtlety.

"...so will you accompany me to the Christmas Ball?"

"Wonderful, Potter, absolutely stunning," Snape commented.

"Oh, and where's the line of women waiting for you to ask them to a dance?" Harry retorted with a touch of embarrassment, and Minerva chuckled.

"And now that we're officially a couple, will you join me in our first act of completely terrorizing Ron and Hermione?" The other Harry continued.

"Certainly," Luna answered with a malicious grin. "Most certainly."

Ron shrieked (in quite a manly, Supreme Wizard of All type fashion) and disappeared behind the aisle as both him and Hermione charged for the exit.

Harry grinned as the memories of Luna came back. "So, that's one out of three. How do we get to the next one?"

There was no answer besides a shrug from Minerva. "It's your mind. We just came along for the ride."

Harry grimaced. "And I'm oh so happy that you did so, by the way. Damn door."

There was a tinkling sound of a bell far ahead as the four teens ran out of the shop, and the scene disappeared.

o--o

There was no light anywhere. Harry couldn't even tell that anyone had come with him.

"Professors?" He called softly.

"Here," Minerva answered from his right, and a muttered comment Harry couldn't fully hear came from Snape further in that direction.

"Apparently," Harry commented, trying to get rid of the oppressive feeling stifling him, "I was once trapped in a vortex."

There was a far off feminine scream.

"Oh, my mistake. Potion's Class."

Minerva chuckled at the poor joke, but subsided as voices came near.

"I think we should just kill the menace and be done with it," a harsh voice said, and Harry recognized it as belonging to Macnair. "Lumos."

"Tired of my company already?" A hoarse voice came behind the three of them, and they spun around to see another Harry glaring past them at the Death Eaters.

Minerva gasped at the sight, but Harry instinctively knew that this memory wasn't too far into how ever long he was with the Death Eaters.

There were several bloody wounds crossing his arms and face, but none had reached the point of infection just yet. The memory Harry was luckily still standing, though tremors coursing through his limbs made it obvious that the Cruciatus Curse was a frequent companion.

"Oh, look at that, the Boy-Who-Lived still hasn't made his escape," Lucius drawled as he stepped into the small cell Harry was in.

"I've been trying to get rid of that nickname for years," Harry said in response to Minerva's and Severus's questioning look. "The Wizarding World is nothing if not fond of putting people on pedestals."

"Oh, look at that," the memory Harry mocked. "Lucius Malfoy is still trying to pretend to be powerful."

"Crucio!" The blond Death Eater snarled in retort, and the red light hit Harry instantaneously.

Clenching his teeth as not to make a sound, Harry slid down the wall he had been leaning against, not able to stand under the power of the curse. Malfoy soon lifted it, looking pleased with himself, but Harry just opened his eyes and looked at him with disappointment.

"Come now, that hardly hurt at all, O great and powerful pureblood. Hermione's punches hurt more than that." Harry pretended to disregard Lucius as a threat, and rubbed his head in remembrance. "Especially when mocking her knitting skills."

Lucius gritted his teeth, but didn't curse him again, something Severus looked curious about.

"They knew it would do no good," the real Harry responded as his memories began to filter back in. Truth be told, he was rather happier without them. "The more time they spent with me, the more I insulted them, and it was that much harder for them to not kill me. And only Voldemort was allowed to do that."

They watched, though, as the memory Harry slowly moved towards Malfoy, who was carelessly holding his wand loosely as the blond wizard seethed and ignored him.

Macnair winced as a pain shot through his arm. "I trust you can bring the whelp to our Lord yourself, Lucius. I apparently have something else to accomplish."

Malfoy looked slightly offended at the thought that he couldn't handle bringing Harry to Voldemort. "Go, Macnair, without further insulting my capability. Remember your place."

The executioner for the Ministry walked off muttering under his breath. "Potter was right. Malfoy should try those antidepressant pills. He seems awfully touchy lately."

Snape choked as he heard that comment, as Malfoy, who apparently heard it as well, glared at the retreating Death Eater.

The memory Harry made his move, springing at Malfoy with his hand outstretched to grab the wand. Unfortunately, Malfoy turned at the last second and saw Harry's movement.

Both tightened their grip on the wand, but Harry, who was moving out of desperation, had the stronger pull to point the wand at Malfoy's face.

"Reducto!" Harry rasped, and Malfoy's eyes widened.

But the blond aristocrat moved his head out of the way, and the hex shattered the nearby stone wall. Flecks and knife-like pieces of stone came flying at them, peppering both with small cuts and scratches.

Attracted by the explosion, three Death Eaters came running, with their wands pointed straight at Harry.

"Deshmaj!" One hissed, and a sickly purple light hit Harry, pushing him into the back wall with all the force of a rampaging elephant. His head banged against the stone until the Death Eaters became nothing more than blurry spots.

Malfoy snarled in anger. "Son of a--"

"Now, now," Harry said groggily, his vision slowly restoring. "Don't go insulting my mum. She defeated your master after all."

The Death Eaters, apparently fed up with Harry by now, bond him with magical chains, and then levitated him out of the cell.

Minerva was still surveying the area with wide eyes, as if not expecting being a prisoner of Voldemort to be like what she had seen.

"Damn," the real Harry muttered as the Death Eaters and the prisoner disappeared. "That spell had hurt. I can't wait to use it back on him."

Snape smirked. "They really didn't like you, did they?"

"Not at all," Harry grinned evilly. "Most hadn't ever held a conversation with me before, but they hated me after we did."

"You realize that you probably wouldn't have been in such bad shape if you kept you mouth closed," Minerva said shakily.

Harry shrugged. "Then they would have thought they won, and I couldn't have that. I wasn't the only one to get away with it, though. All the other prisoners knew that they would die faster if they ran their mouths off, so it became kind of a fad to insult the Death Eaters until they got sick of us."

"They wanted to die quicker?" Minerva repeated, as if she hadn't heard right.

Harry turned to look at her with darkened eyes. "If you knew there was no hope of escaping, wouldn't you?"

The memory disappeared before Minerva had any chance to answer.

o--o

Minerva had been dragged through tunnels, a mind, Hogwarts, a secret of chamber of Slytherin's, a junk shop, and a dungeon. She had not expected to suddenly appear in a park.

A park in a conspicuously Muggle area.

"GET HIM!"

The battle cry came from a dozen seven-year-old voices, a pack that was currently chasing another child across a road leading to the nearby park. The current prey of the pack headed straight for where Minerva, Severus, and Harry were standing, an expression of tolerance and annoyance on his face.

Harry groaned as he recognized his seven-year-old self. "Kill!" He exclaimed through hands covering his face in mortification. "Kill them all! Of all the memories to go through..."

Minerva looked at the situation. Being a teacher for several years had made her intuitive to situations that only children (and Marauders) could instigate. Apparently, Harry was not at all friendly with this small group of peers.

"What did you do to make them chase you?" Minerva asked, thinking herself accurate in blaming Harry for the mischief.

"I didn't do anything!" Harry protested as the memories came back to him. Both professors looked at him skeptically. "Okay, well maybe I did, but usually they would just try to beat me up for the fun of it!"

"Oh, really?" Minerva's disbelief couldn't be any more evident.

"Yes, really," Harry argued back, though a small grin was on his face. "The big, fat one is my cousin Dudley. He never liked me, and since he's the leader of this little gang, no one else liked me either. Occasionally I fought back. Just a little, though."

The seven-year-old Harry, meanwhile, had climbed up on top of the monkey bars, and was mockingly laughing at the pack of children roving about below.

"Of course. You didn't egg them on at all, Potter," Snape said sarcastically.

"Well, I don't really remember this encounter at the moment, so I don't know what's going on."

"Potter!" Piers Polkiss yelled, and the older Harry made a face of disgust. "Get down from there and face us with some pride!"

"Why?" Harry responded. "My lofty height is representative of how much more evolved I am than you, and you can go find your own pride without taking mine!"

The pack regrouped for a moment, evidently puzzling over the meaning of the word lofty.

After the group had come up with another plan, one of the group stepped forward, clearing his throat as if preparing to sing.

"Your mom!" The boy yelled in a mocking tone, but Harry merely raised one eyebrow.

The rest of them took up the chant as the sun began to set. "Your mom! Your mom!"

The older Harry couldn't help laughing with his younger self. "Ah, the merry band of idiots," he recalled bitterly.

"They don't seem like that much of a threat," Minerva observed as the younger Harry took a book out of his pocket and began to read atop the monkey bars, and Dudley and his friends began to drift off in boredom.

"They weren't unless they caught me, and then I was toast. Oh, now I remember what this was about! Yesterday was Halloween and I had taken a hose to Polkiss's mummy costume," Harry cackled as the memory drifted away and they were brought back to the room with the trunk. "That taught him not to make fun of Mandy."

Harry quieted and felt for his Occlumency Shields once more. Tentatively putting his hand on it, Harry smiled as it went through. "About time," he said out loud, "my shields are fixed. We should be able to get out of here."

Minerva frowned, as she realized that she still hadn't come up with a way to tell everyone what they had found out. She looked at Severus, who sneered but nodded his head. Of course. She might have gotten distracted, but he wouldn't.

Harry's grin slipped off his face as the side-effect of euphoria after finding his memories wore off, and he became grounded firmly in reality once more. The reality that Snape and McGonagall had had unrestricted access to his mind for hours.

"How far did you get into my mind?" Harry asked directly, narrowing his eyes at them threateningly.

Minerva gulped at the look. "Erm, well, these spirits of your personality began leading us around. One led us to a memory of you and Miss Lovegood harassing Slytherins and preparing to burn them in effigy."

Harry chuckled, amused that his inbuilt defenses worked, even under Justern poison, to choose the most worthless memories for perusal. "And what a scene it was. I think I got more death threats that week than any other time. What else did you see?"

"There was another one where, erm..." Minerva elected to fall silent, and Harry didn't take that as good news.

"You've seen me ask Luna out on a date, seen me harass Death Eaters, Slytherins, seven-year-olds, and Lockharts, and you still expect to be bothered by you two being dragged into any of my memories? As far as I can tell, it's nearly impossible to get much more blackmail."

"We saw you destroy Dumbledore's office." Snape said suddenly, putting an end to the argument.

Harry's eyes darkened. Maybe the defenses need a little work still. "So that's how you found out..." He glared at Snape, who merely raised an eyebrow. "I'd rather you not mention that memory to anyone."

"No can do, Potter. Come, let's go prepare for the bloody battle ahead."

Harry laughed bitterly. "The one with the Basilisk, or the one where James completely disowns me?"

Minerva stopped as if slapped. "Well that's a horrible way to put it, Potter. You have to try and understand everything from their point of view. They suddenly have a Dark Wizard, who made no prior effort to be overly friendly, claim to be the child they saw dead years ago. Not exactly a situation anyone could simply waltz into calmly."

Harry looked at her, eyes full of sorrow and self-hatred. "No, I really don't have to understand there point of view, because I still don't want them to know who I am. I previously refused to tell them my identity for one reason. I already knew that they wouldn't want to have anything to do with me, but I just didn't want them any higher up on Voldemort's To Maim, Torture, and Kill List."

With that final statement, Harry brought down his Occlumency shields, and went back to the land of the living, Minerva and Severus following.