"The boy's plan was this: he found a little bird in the forest and captured the little bird. And he had the idea he would go to the wise man with the bird in his hands and say, "Wise old man, what have I got in my hand?" And the old man would say, "Well, you have a bird, my son." And he would say, "Wise old man, is the bird alive, or is it dead?" And the old man knew if he said, "It is dead" the little boy would open his hand and the bird would fly away. Or if he said, "It is alive," then the boy would take the bird in his hand and crunch it and crunch it, and crunch the life out of it, and then open his hand and say, "See, it is dead." And so the boy went up to the wise old man and said, "Wise old man, what do I have in my hand?" The old man said, "Why it is a bird, my son." He said, "Wise old man, is it alive, or is it dead?" And the wise old man said, "The bird is in your hands, my son." " - Gerry Spence in The Estate of Karen Silkwood v. Kerr-McGee, Inc.

{~~~~}

"I'm his girlfriend!" Brown shrieked.

"Well, I happen to be his - friend!"

Harry watched the back and forth with his eyes, entirely confused as to what was going on but not willing to miss a second. Yes, he was well aware that Weasley could be in danger. Yes, he knew that Hermione and Ron were going to drive each other crazy if they didn't get this tension worked out between them. And yes, he could tell that this issue was taking time from more important dilemmas.

But holy hell, if the constipated expression on Snape's face wasn't worth it, he didn't know what was.

He bit his bottom lip to stop himself from laughing as Slughorn glanced around again, evidently trying to discern if he should interject himself into the arguing or not. Dumbledore looked exceedingly fascinated in the events taking place, Pomfrey gave no shits about anything but the impediment of her path to the bed by all the people around Ron, and McGonagall was surreptitiously leaning away from the drama as if it were a physical force propelling her backwards.

It was glorious.

"Why was I not informed first?" Brown wailed, and Harry thanked the high heavens that she'd known better than to act like this in the DA of his own world. Then, to his surprise, he found himself being gestured to. "Even - that boy knew before I did!"

Most of the group glanced towards him briefly, except for the unconscious Weasley and the apathetic Madame Pomfrey. Slughorn's eyebrows came together, but he didn't ask the obvious question of who Harry was, saving it for later.

"That's because his life doesn't revolve around you, you narcissistic twit!" Granger snapped. "And if you weren't too busy acting like a dementor, sucking at his face so hard his soul starts to come out every time you see him, maybe you would've noticed something was wrong yesterday and it wouldn't have been so surprising this morning!"

Brown reeled back, looked futilely at the professors for support - Snape, for once, seemed rather inclined to actually give Granger house points, if only so this would end. "Why did I not hear about this until this morning? And no one's even told me what happened yesterday, where all of you were!"

"Maybe there's a reason for that!"

"Rr..my..." Weasley muttered, and everyone looked at him.

"He's trying to say my name!" Brown cried ecstatically.

Which, unless 'Lavender' rhymed with Weasley's next utterance, "'Ione," was rather unlikely. Next to her, Granger flushed triumphantly. Snape and McGonagall were eagerly awaiting a Death Eater invasion to spare them this, if their faces were any indication.

Harry, however amusing this was, just hoped that this all ended soon so everyone would get out and he could go back to trying to grab his wand, which had been placed far out of his reach, so he could undo the sticking charm someone had put on his hand and the bed frame in an attempt to keep him in place. He just knew Snape, the most likely culprit for the deed, was watching him out of the corner of his eye and waiting for him to try to escape while they were all distracted by Brown's lamentations.

Maybe he could get Dobby to help him get out. The house elf probably worked at Hogwarts in this world, right?

And then, just as he thought that, the house elf appeared a couple of meters away with a small entourage, and both the new and the old group - sans Weasley, obviously - stared at each other in shock.

"Miss Brown," Dumbledore said sharply. "Please escort yourself to my office immediately, and remain absolutely silent about what you have seen on the way there. Speak of this to no one, not even your closest friends."

Brown opened her mouth to argue, but all the teachers except the confused Slughorn gave her severe looks and she hurried off immediately when faced by the two scariest professors in the school united against her. As she passed, she gave the newcomers an odd look even as they ignored her, moving towards one of the cots.

Harry barely noticed her leaving, instead tugging at his hand uselessly. Jack was in Hotch's arms, and Draco was holding onto both of them tightly, as if they were the only thing keeping him alive. Jack was shaking just a little less than him, caught between leaning into his older friend or his father. Snape grabbed onto Draco when it looked like he was going to collapse, carefully detached the boy even as he fought to hold on, and maneuvered him over to the cot next to Harry's.

"Jack, Jack," he whispered hoarsely, so rough Harry almost had difficulty making it out.

"He's fine," Snape told him quietly. "He's alive and he's unhurt. You saved him. He's all right."

Draco looked at Jack for a few moments longer, lost and panicked and definitely not coherent, and then sunk onto the bed. His friend's face was entirely pale and he was shaking terribly, worse than Harry had when he had gotten out of detentions with Umbridge. His face twitched and his hands spasmed as he drew them closer to his chest, and without any prompting, he slumped down on the mattress and was out like a light, energy gone without its purpose anymore.

Then he started seizing.

Snape swore and started casting spells on him, and Hotch quickly set Jack down to help while Harry tore at his arm so sharply that he felt like he was going to pull it from its socket. As the two frantically worked over him, one trying to soothe the symptoms while the other mostly just held the tortured boy down, Jack was slowly moving backward away from everyone, nose sniffing quietly at the air. After a moment, though, he rushed forward until he reached Harry's bed, and he quickly climbed in with him.

Harry stopped trying to release himself, instead moving closer to Jack so he could wrap an arm around him and pull him in. Jack buried his face against Harry's shoulder, and though he was shaking, it wasn't nearly as bad as Draco and it seemed less neurological, so he hoped it was just the stress of what had happened and not a sign of torture. Harry tightened his arms around him, shielding his younger brother from the world as best as he could, and looked up searchingly at his father.

Madame Pomfrey had finally reached the bed and pushed him and Snape aside. "What happened?" she demanded, casting a few final spells on Draco to stop the seizure.

"The Cruciatus," Snape said, crushing Harry's hopes it wasn't true. The way that Snape and Hotch were looking at Draco spoke lengths about how bad it must have looked when they picked him up.

"How long was he under?"

"We don't know."

"If it's that bad," Harry said quietly, "it must have been most of the time he's been gone."

"Mr. Hotchner, I won't take speculation."

"He has personal experience in long-term exposure to the Cruciatus," Snape replied, without irony, and Madame Pomfrey paused for a long moment, eyeing them both.

"Very well," she said. "How long has he been gone?"

"A day and a half, two days," Harry told her. He felt a vibration against his hip from Jack's stomach, and he lowered his head to Jack's ear to quietly say, "We'll get you something to eat once Draco's taken care of, okay?" Jack nodded against him. Dobby perked up suddenly and vanished before anyone could ask him anything. Meanwhile, the group around Weasley's bed had migrated across the room to stand by Draco's.

"Is the Cruciatus all they did to him?" Madame Pomphrey asked, ignoring her audience.

"We don't know," Snape repeated. "He has barely spoken since we picked him up."

"Who did this?"

"Death Eaters. Lestrange was involved specifically."

Hotch had eased back until he was equidistant from both beds, and now he glanced at Harry for the first time. He frowned at Harry's odd position, and Harry tugged on his stuck hand to show him why his arm was down at his side. One eyebrow went up but Hotch didn't comment, and then they both turned back to Draco.

"Harry, there was a Parselmouth there," Jack whispered.

Harry froze. Of course, Riddle. "I know," he murmured back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Potter staring at them in surprise.

"He told me to stay where I was."

"I'm glad you left."

"He said you guys didn't want me anymore."

Harry buried his face into his brother's hair again, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. "That's not true. Don't ever think it is, Jack. We love you so, so much."

"He said you weren't going to try to come get me."

"Yeah, well, that man's stupid. He doesn't know us very well. Dad came back just to save you, and I would've gone with him if someone hadn't knocked me out."

"Really?"

"Mmhmm."

Dobby appeared on the side of Harry's bed that was less crowded, and he held a plate of sandwiches towards them. Harry breathed out gratefully as Jack's head turned at the smell of food, and his face lit up as he took the plate with a soft but excited, "Thank you!"

"Dobby is very displeased that young mister has not eaten recently. Young mister should have gotten more food!"

"Did they feed you?" Harry asked softly, and Jack shook his head as he bit into a sandwich. His back was turned into Harry's arm, which Harry kept wrapped around him. He didn't see Harry's frown. Jack's increased metabolism would hasten the effects of malnutrition without proper food, even if he weren't so young. Harry rubbed Jack's arm with one hand, and he shared a grimace with his father, who had started listening once their conversation continued in English.

"He's a Parselmouth?" Potter asked and Jack looked up at him in surprise.

"There's a you here too?"

Harry nodded in response to both of their questions. Dumbledore glanced over at him but didn't comment, turning back to Draco, which was where Harry's attention now went. Madame Pomfrey had already dumped several potions down his throat, and whatever they were, they had definitely relaxed him enough that he no longer looked like he had just been attacked by a swarm of boggarts. Though he was still curled on his side, the position was much more relaxed.

Hotch tapped his shoulder and Harry looked up at him. "Tell everyone we've got them," Hotch mouthed and Harry nodded quickly.

"Expecto patronum," he murmured.

Atlas appeared and promptly scared everyone who wasn't expecting an elephant.

"To Hermione," he said, ignoring the ones staring at him and Atlas. "We've got Jack and Draco." The elephant vanished. "I'm guessing your patronus didn't change form like mine did. Still a stag?"

"Uh... Yeah."

Hermione's otter jumped out of midair to land on his bed. "Did he say where Haley and the other Jack are?"

"They're still missing?" Harry muttered, then sent a negative reply, with the explanation that Draco wasn't up for talking.

Another otter appeared. "Tell him to hurry it up. Your dad's other self isn't that patient."

"Cruciatus," was all of Harry's response, and he didn't get a returned otter. "Madame Pomfrey-"

"He should be all right in a couple of hours," she said. "Don't try to wake him until then."

"Why did they torture him?" Potter asked beside him.

"He wouldn't tell them," Jack murmured quietly, and the infirmary went dead silent as they strained to listen. Jack shook against Harry's arm, and he tearfully repeated, "He wouldn't tell them...!"

"Where the others are?" Harry asked and Jack nodded.

"Could he hear it?" McGonagall asked the other world's Snape and Hotch, horrified.

"He can hear a lot of things others can't," Harry murmured. Jack avoided looking at anyone, instead staring at the empty plate in front of him. Dobby took it and vanished, returning a couple of moments later with a newly filled one.

Draco suddenly jerked upright, gasping, and Harry's Snape moved forward to try to force him back down. Madame Pomfrey shot a stunning spell at him, but the sound of an incantation caused Draco to hurl himself off the bed reflexively. Hotch put up a hand to stop anyone else from trying, and Snape grabbed onto Draco as he struggled to get away.

"Draco!" Harry shouted, and his friend turned sharply to the sound of his voice, eyes unfocused as he gulped in air. "Draco, it's okay! You're at Hogwarts!" Draco's gaze landed on Hotch and he stared, completely befuddled. "You're not going insane," Harry promised.

"Fries, fries, fries," Draco whispered, and then promptly passed out in Snape's arms.

"What the hell?" Potter muttered as Snape and Pomphrey got him back onto the bed.

"It would seem Jack is not the only one who went hungry," Snape said dryly, but Harry frowned. The message seemed a lot more urgent than that.


After he finished eating, Jack refused to answer anyone's questions and promptly turned into a wolf and curled up on Harry's lap. He was asleep a couple of minutes later, deep breaths moving his chest against Harry's thighs. Sometimes his legs would start jerking and his ears would twitch, but it usually only took a couple of strokes from Harry to calm him down. Thankfully, someone had finally released the sticking charm on Harry's hand, letting him properly hold on to his brother.

Hotch sat on the bed beside them, keeping an eye on his kids and Draco. Snape was with the other adults, who had frustratingly decided to move the conversation away from them so Harry wouldn't hear what they were talking about. He didn't argue, aware that he could definitely get Snape to tell him what had happened later, and the adults left for Dumbledore's office, in part to also somehow convince Lavender Brown not to say anything about what she'd seen.

"His cover's blown, isn't it?" Harry asked quietly. Hotch nodded silently beside him.

Potter and Granger had gone back to sitting by Weasley's bed. Ginny Weasley had come in and joined them at some point. They would have been sent away long ago if not for the more pressing issues the adults were dealing with. The three of them whispered together, occasionally glancing down towards the Hotchners and Draco. It was good Jack was asleep, else he would have been able to hear what they were saying.

"Fries," Harry muttered under his breath, contemplating.

"He was just tortured," Hotch pointed out.

"Maybe."

Jack stirred against him and they both watched as he shuffled until his nose was tucked against Harry's hip and one of his hind legs and his tail rested against Hotch. When it was obvious he wasn't waking up, they looked away.

"Riddle talked to him," Harry said and Hotch looked at him sharply. "He told Jack we didn't care about him so we weren't coming."

After a pause, Hotch said slowly, "It seems strange that he would have bothered."

"I know. But maybe..." He hesitated. "Maybe they didn't go after Jack just because he knew me."

That thought was equally disturbing for both of them and they frowned down at Jack again. After a couple of moments, Hotch tapped his hand and he looked up so he could lip read. "Are you feeling okay?"

Harry nodded. "It's almost completely healed. I should be fine. And, because you've got the blood wards, there's not a chance of that killing me anymore."

But that didn't take care of the matter of the Light Curse.

"Why did you use so much magic in the fight?" he reprimanded.

"Dad, I was going to die soon anyway. Since I was the only one with a termination date looming, I wasn't going to see anyone else go before me. Don't try to scold me for that," he said firmly. Hotch met his gaze for several long seconds before nodding slightly. "I was careful about what spells I did use, and I tried not to rely on the wards too much. I wasn't stupid about it."

"Okay, okay," Hotch relented, though his expression was pained. "I understand."

"Is this going to change when you leave?" He couldn't keep the sharpness from his tone.

Hotch frowned. "I really don't think I'm leaving. This feels different than before." At Harry's confused hand gesture, he explained, "If you were in danger, I appeared near you. I couldn't do anything, so my assumption is that the blood wards had to pull me back somewhat so you could actually use them. Madame Pomfrey thinks I was able to come back entirely because the blood wards weren't going to be strong enough to protect you in the state you were in."

He didn't look at his father, and his response came out sharp despite his effort to contain himself. "So I'm fine as long as you don't die again."

This wasn't a conversation he wanted to have, and part of him just wanted to keep his head down so he didn't have to see Hotch's response. But no matter how much he knew it was going to hurt, he glanced up, unable to deny his father the ability to speak when his voice had already been taken from him.

"Harry, I... If I'd known, I would've done it again." Harry grimaced, looking down briefly before forcing himself to raise his head again. "I will die again, one day, though I hope it won't be soon. I'm not immortal. There's nothing I can do about that, and there's going to be a time when I won't be here for you anymore. It wasn't fair for you, that this happened, but you always knew it could be anyone the next time someone died. But don't you think for a moment that I ever wanted to leave you and Jack. You are the most important things in my life." With a sad smile, knowing what Harry wanted to say, he continued, "And I have age against me. I'm already going to die sooner than you, Harry. You should never do the same for me."

"So I should just deal with it?" Harry remarked bitterly. His throat felt like it was constricting in anger, making it harder to breathe.

"I'll be alive for you while I can," Hotch said while his son glared at him, and Harry got the impression it would have been soft if he were breathing. "That's all I can give you. I hope you'll understand."

"I can't do this again," Harry warned him. "Not like this. Now that I can look back on it, I suspect it was the blood wards, but I literally could not move past your death. It never felt any easier. The only reason I kept going was because of Jack. You cannot do this to me again."

Hotch didn't make a move to respond.

"Dad!" he hissed furiously at him. "You promised me, years ago! Don't you remember that?!"

"And you made the same promise," Hotch snapped, so quickly Harry was taken aback for a moment. "And frankly, if you spare the briefest of moments to remember, you didn't even try to keep it in the cemetery."

"That's not fair! I didn't have help!"

"We were coming for you! You knew we were coming!"

"So what, I was just supposed to let all of you get killed?" he demanded.

"Okay, first of all, you're now telling me it's okay if you get sacrificed but not me-"

"That's not what I'm-!"

"Harry."

"Dad, the situation was different. There were others around us, and we had help. You didn't have to play the hero and jump in front of that curse!"

"Oh, and let you get hit instead?" Hotch crossly replied. "Yes, you had to deal with my death for months. But I had Haley taken from me years ago, and I've almost lost you and Jack multiple times. I did lose you once, and it put me in a coma. My job, above all else, is to protect the two of you. So what you're trying to do now, telling me I shouldn't have done it - honestly, I don't care. Because yes, I'll do it again. Your life is more important to me than your opinion of me."

"I see. It's perfectly okay for me to sink into a depression and starve on the streets because I can't handle losing someone but-"

"That's not what this is about! It's about you staying safe!"

"Oh, like you stayed safe when you threw yourself into danger every time it seems like someone's in need of saving?"

"It's not intentional-"

"Really? Because you find trouble more often than I do and I'm being chased by a Dark Lord. No, you literally go looking for it, and don't you tell me your job is relatively safe because I definitely remember one incident in which I thought you were dead from a stupid bomb!"

"Harry, you have to stop turning the situation around on me. You did it when we were in battle and we were exhausted, and you did it when we were both worked to the bone. Stop. The situation for me is different for you, and it always has been." Harry opened his mouth, snarling, and Hotch cut him off with a firm hand gesture. Harry frowned - Hotch had never stopped him from speaking before, especially not after Harry had confided that he was the only one Harry trusted to always listen to him. "No, I'm not taking arguments on this. If it comes down to it again, I'd move in front of the curse."

"At least give me advance warning this time, so I can drop Jack off with someone and go die in a hole while my body tears itself apart," he sneered. "Thanks for that, by the way. If not for your blood wards, I would've been fine, but no, you had to cling on."

"You're really blaming me for you using defensive magic, aren't you? Accusing me of running into danger, but if you'd stayed away from the Hotchner family here like you should have, you wouldn't have needed those blood wards."

"Kinda makes sense I'd need them anyway, doesn't it? Every time I'm starving, it's because you aren't there. Every time someone tries to kill me, you're not there." Hotch flinched but Harry pressed on, feeling the line approaching and pushing it because he knew it would hurt the most. "Where were you when the Dursleys put me in a closet for eleven years? And here's the fun bit – after I got shot by Foyet, we found out why I was throwing up blood in the closet. I was choking on metal bits the Dursleys had put into the bread, because they knew I was too hungry to care what I was eating."

A thrill of satisfaction ran through him at Hotch's horrified expression, and if he'd properly noticed how quickly Hotch was pulling out of the argument, he would've stopped. He didn't, and he kept pushing.

"And when Jack and I got taken by someone because of you, we didn't get out because you were any help. You might notice we didn't even go home once we were free, either - we went to Hogwarts instead, after I thought I was going to be raped by a man I thought I could trust because you made him the Secret Keeper. Kinda helped me later, though. It was easier to think about someone paying me for sex when I was starving - again - because I was trying to keep Jack safe. So yeah, I get into a lot of danger. But I can't help but think this all would have turned out a lot differently if someone had cared when I was a child."

He turned away sharply, preventing Hotch from telling him anything else. After everything they'd been through, and this was how they were going to treat each other in the end. Fine. In that case, he'd leave Jack with him, and they could go back to their life before they knew Harry existed, and he could just stick to being in danger in the magical world. At least he wouldn't have to deal with a harping parent anymore.

A hand fell on top of his and he shook it off irritably. It came up for a moment, then slowly moved back down until it took his hand again. Harry grimaced and was about to turn and shout at him when he felt it, the faint tremble running through Hotch's palm. Even in the light grip, Hotch's hand was forced to curl in slightly from the scarring, clutching Harry's a bit tighter than someone normally would. Self-loathing started to settle in, yet he couldn't make himself turn back and apologize.

But he squeezed the hand.

At least fifteen minutes had passed before he turned his head to the side to look at Hotch out of the corner of his eye. His father was watching Jack sleep, but the resting wolf hadn't wiped the strained expression from his face. After a moment, he caught Harry watching and he glanced up. Harry looked away, but Hotch reached over and touched his forearm. He reluctantly looked back.

"What are we fighting about?" Hotch asked, but there was a calculating expression that made Harry seriously consider it.

"I..." What the hell had his point been? "You can't die. What's your point?"

"It'll happen eventually."

Harry stared at him for a long moment. Then, "Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?"

"Something's messing with our emotions."

"You've never cut me off."

"And you've never blamed me."

Anger, anxiety, frustration, fear... His eyes widened. "This is what I felt like after the Silent Massacre, when the horcrux was still in my head."

"Check Jack - I'll get Draco."

"Jack, can you wake up for me?" Harry murmured, tapping Jack urgently, while Hotch moved to the other bed. His eyes opened blearily. "Sorry, I know you're tired, but there's something I've got to ask you. Did you bring anything back with you?"

Jack started to nod, then pushed himself up, changing into a human as he did so, until he was in a sitting position. "From the man," he said.

"Did he tell you what it was?"

"Just that it was important. And I shouldn't tell anyone else about it."

"Can I see it?"

Jack pulled a chain out of his pocket until a green locket rose from the end of it, and he put it in Harry's palm. "What is it?"

"It's... It's something we've been trying to find for a very long time," Harry whispered, exchanging a look of growing awe with his father. He kissed the top of Jack's head excitedly. "Thank you, thank you."

"One more," Hotch murmured, but Harry quickly shook his head.

"I know where it is." He tightened his grip on the locket. "We need to go destroy this."

"If you stay here with Jack, I'll take it." Harry passed it to him cautiously, feeling his emotions change even as he moved it just a little bit farther away from him. Hotch, however, suddenly went a bit stiffer. "What?" he demanded at Harry's expression, then winced and shook himself.

"Hang on." Harry turned to the side and muttered, "Expecto patronum. All right, if Atlas goes with you, it might help negate some of the effects." It was made of positive emotion, after all.

Hotch visibly took control of himself and forced a nod out. "That would make sense. I'll be back as soon as possible."

The elephant paced out with him, walking slowly to match Hotch's pace. It phased through the wall instead of taking the door, and then Hotch and Atlas were gone. The further they went away from him, the more relaxed Harry became, until he realized just how much the stupid locket had been screwing with his head.

"Is it good?" Jack asked. "That I had that?"

What kind of effect had it had on his brother? "We're glad we have it now," Harry hesitantly said. "Jack, do you feel okay?"

"I feel better. I'm kind of hungry."

Dobby appeared instantly, and Harry knew he must have set a charm around the area keyed to that word. He couldn't help smiling at the typical Dobby-esque gesture. "What is young mister wanting?"

The infirmary door opened a couple of minutes later, but to Harry's dismay, Hotch wasn't the one who entered. Harry paused, one eyebrow raising, as he saw who it was. Behind him, the other three went quiet, but he just tilted his head in acknowledgement, keeping his whirling thoughts to himself. The new presence could mean a lot of things for what was going on, and most of them weren't good.

Malfoy came to a halt at the end of Draco's bed and eyed his doppelganger skeptically. "So it's true." Harry stayed silent. "You didn't mention you were Potter," he spat out.

"I'm not," Harry corrected, not rising to the offensive tone. Jack had perked up at the sound of Malfoy, so similar to his own Draco, but now he was slumping back against Harry again. The plate had practically been licked clean again and was discarded on the bedside table. "The last years for both of us have been very different, and we're not the same people."

"Oh yeah?" Malfoy sneered. "Your hero complex doesn't seem to be any lesser."

"Because I sought you out?" Harry asked, then gestured to Draco. "I got along with you in my world. Of course I wanted to see if you were doing all right!"

Malfoy raised his arms to encompass all of himself. "Well?" he snapped. "Happy with what you see?"

"Leave him alone," Potter snarled as he approached and Harry rolled his eyes. "What the hell are you even doing here?"

"I just got fascinating news," Malfoy sneered, "that I am in the infirmary with severe injuries." He glared at Harry. "It would seem I got involved with the wrong sort, wouldn't it?"

Ignoring the niggling sense of guilt, Harry raised his head slightly. "No, you made a choice in our world. For better or worse, you made a choice."

"Oh, shut up." He turned away from both of them. "I don't trust any answer you have for me."

Potter made to go after him, but Harry snagged his sleeve and stopped him, shaking his head warningly. Potter made an annoyed gesture, trying to get across the importance of following, but Harry gave him a look and Potter scowled. In the corner nearest the infirmary doors, Malfoy snagged a chair and dropped into it, glaring across the room at both of them.

"What are you doing?" Potter demanded in spite of Harry's tight grip on his arm.

"Waiting for my moronic self to wake up so I can see if there's anything left in his head or if being around your other self has vanished his brain."

"Go back to Ron," Harry ordered him quietly. Potter tried to yank his arm away. "Do it. Don't worry about this."

"He's trying to kill Dumbledore!" Potter hissed, nearly hitting Harry in his next attempt to free himself.

"Oh, who hasn't wanted to murder Dumbledore at some point in their lives?" Harry snapped. "You're certainly not going to stop him from doing something heinous by fighting with him in the middle of the infirmary, so go back. I'll deal with it."

"Like you dealt with your family?" Potter gestured sharply at his wounded midsection and Harry's eyes narrowed. "Brilliantly done there."

"Are you criticizing me for being willing to die to protect my family?" Harry asked softly.

"I think you put your faith in the wrong people," Potter quickly amended.

"Don't start on that again."

Malfoy was watching their argument with interest.

"You know he did it."

"And you don't know anything about him."

"I know him," Potter pointed at Malfoy, "and I know there's no way in hell he didn't turn your family in. Seems a bit odd that after a couple of days your family's still missing, doesn't it? If he'd moved them to safety, they would have found some way to get in contact, wouldn't they? Strange."

"He just got tortured, you shit!" He let Jack go as his brother started to wisely lean away, and he turned so he was mostly shielding Jack from the argument with his back.

"Riddle tortures everyone!"

"Not like this!"

Jack scooted back against the headboard of the bed to listen.

"He probably did something else to piss him off."

"Get back to Ron before I hex you."

"Try it."

Screaming cut them both off before anything could be done, and everyone turned to look at the doors in bewilderment. There were a couple of pairs of running footsteps, either being chased by or running with the screaming female voice. It sounded like there might have been words in the screaming, but they were indecipherable.

The doors flew open and Hermione and Ron rushed in, then quickly slammed them shut. Both looked rather bewildered and terrified, and Hermione cast a locking charm on the door as someone banged on the other side.

"My Won-Won! Please just tell me what's going on!"

"What the bloody hell happened to Lavender Brown?" Ron demanded, a bit pale. Hermione cast another charm to muffle the screaming.

"Were you just assaulted in the hall?" Harry asked, using the distraction to push down the urge to do grievous harm to his other self.

"Something like that."

"She slipped you a love potion in this world."

"Did she overwhelm him so much he fainted?" Hermione asked and pointed at Weasley a couple of beds down.

"No, they give him the antidote, and then he took a drink of something poisoned."

"Fantastic," Malfoy muttered, but in the brief quiet his voice carried. "Now there's more Weasleys and mudbloods."

"Oh, honestly, don't be such a sour pus," Hermione scolded immediately, earning her a glower. She turned away from him and froze. "Oh no..."

"Cruciatus?" Ron asked, hurrying towards Draco's bed with Hermione beside him. Harry nodded, grimacing. "Is he going to be okay?"

"We don't know. He only woke up the once, but he didn't make much sense."

"What'd he say?"

"He kept muttering about fries."

"Well, they probably didn't feed him. I expect he's hungry."

"Just because you're obsessed with your stomach doesn't mean everyone else is," Hermione muttered, raking her eyes over Draco's still, pale form. "That's all he said?"

"Just kept repeating 'fries.'" Potter opened his mouth, and Harry glared at him. "Whatever it is, don't say it."

"Maybe he's got a better idea of what it means," Hermione pointed out.

"Yeah, well, he's apparently also got a better idea of Draco's character, which means Draco turned my family in to Riddle," he snapped.

"He would have!" Potter gestured sharply at both Malfoys with one motion.

Hermione shook her head quickly. "Harry's family saved him, and he's been too critical in protecting Hogwarts in our world. He knows Riddle wouldn't ever accept him back, no matter who he gave up for it. Harry, can you tell us how you got here?"

"Sure-" He froze. "Ah... I'm going to wait until someone else gets back, or I don't think you're going to believe me." They frowned at him. "It's... Um..."

"That person you were arguing quietly with?" Potter asked. "I thought that was your father."

"His father's dead," Ron said quietly.

Harry twitched. "...Heh." They stared at him. "Well. Technically."

"What are you saying?" Hermione asked slowly.

"Er."

"Harry."

"It's a long story. By the way, he's not looking his best right now."

"He's back?"

"...Most of him is."

Ron started moving back towards the door. "I need to see this. Where is he?"

"He'll be coming right back. He's destroying a Horcrux right now."

"Wait," Malfoy said, annoyed, raising his voice to be heard. "James Potter is dead."

"He is in our time too," Harry replied, "but he wasn't my father. That's why I told you my last name was Hotchner."

Ron beamed suddenly. "You can take that name here!" Harry nodded quickly, a smile starting to creep over his face. "That's awesome! Oh, are you going to officially take it when you get back home too?"

"Everyone knows anyway," Hermione pointed out. As it became obvious nothing extraordinary was about to happen, Jack reclaimed his earlier position, transforming back into a wolf and resting his head on Harry's lap. "Harry, how did it happen?"

"We're not quite sure..." He paused. "Um, he's not going to be able to get in if you locked the doors on him."

Ron looked at Hermione beseechingly, and she sighed and went to unlock them. She peeked outside, saw Lavender Brown, and abruptly shut them again.

"I always knew you were trying to steal him from me!" Brown howled. "You just want him because he's now so famous and handsome and-"

"Silencio," Hermione muttered again and it quieted. Jack hadn't even stirred, practically asleep already. Harry ran his hands softly through his brother's fur.

"Harry, your dad's just going to have to fight her off first," Ron said as Hermione cast the Hominem revelio on the door.

"She'll be gone when she sees him," he assured them. At their perplexed expressions, he added, "He's in an interesting situation right now."

A couple of minutes later, Hermione's second charm lit up brighter, and she went to the door to open it. Hotch had his back to them, watching as Brown sprinted off, and then turned to the open doorway. He immediately staggered as Hermione squeaked then hurled herself at him, catching him in an embrace. Ron sprinted across the room and Harry laughed as Hotch stumbled back another couple of steps with the added weight, trying to keep his balance with two teenagers hugging onto him tightly.

"Woah," he saw Hotch say silently, then awkwardly patted the nearest shoulder - Hermione's - that he could reach.

"What exactly happened to your father?" Potter asked slowly beside him.

"That's not how he died," Harry assured him, though he left out the postmortem bits. Malfoy couldn't see what was going on from his spot, and he stood and moved to the side until he could. The Slytherin froze in place, eyes going wide as he stared. Harry couldn't help but smile a little at the reaction.

Finally, after at least a full minute, they both reluctantly released him so he could come into the room with them. Malfoy was still gaping, but Hotch only glanced him over briefly before joining the two Harrys and Jack by Draco's bed. Potter blinked a couple of times, just now seeing him up close, while Hotch regained his old spot beside Harry. Hermione sat down on his other side and Ron leaned against the foot of Draco's bed.

"Okay, spill," the redhead said. "How'd this happen?"

Between the two of them, they managed to explain it as best as they could. For Harry, it was the first time he'd heard Hotch's side of it, but he wasn't hearing all of it - literally and figuratively, which threw Hermione and Ron off at the beginning until they could get used to it. Hotch wouldn't have relied on Harry so much to explain if he hadn't been keeping something back, whether he had trouble speaking or not. He made a note to himself to push later, when his father didn't have an excuse.

"We need to tell everyone," Hermione said. "I can't believe you..."

"Brought yourself back to life," Ron finished. "You and Harry don't seem to understand how dying works."

"It's a genetic deficiency," Harry agreed.

"Okay, what else happened while you were here?" Hermione asked. "We haven't heard from you in months." She turned to Hotch quickly. "And what was it like? Could you see what was going on here? Did it feel weird? Do you actually feel alive right now? What was coming back like?" she pushed, then stopped. "Oh, wait, maybe it was hard-" Hotch was smiling in amusement as she came to a flustered halt, trying to think of a better way to phrase her question.

"Let him breathe, 'Mione!" Ron exclaimed, then stopped, horrified. "Wait."

"I hope you know the puns aren't ever going to end," Harry told his father. "Like, ever."

"I'm surrounded by teenagers. I should expect it," Hotch replied. "But this should wait for later. I could only see what was happening when you were in danger, so everything I saw was rather disjointed. What happened?"

"Hermione, you better give your side," Harry said quickly. He so did not want to explain his own experiences right now, and he knew Hotch was going to catch him on any lies he tried to pull in front of Hermione and Ron. Potter was still standing there quietly, too, and he and Malfoy were both intently listening in on the conversation. "If something goes wrong, it's going to be related to what happened to you guys."

"Oh, right. Well, once Harry left, we started properly rebuilding the castle, and it's almost completely done now. Or it was the last time we saw it-" She stopped when Hotch gave her a weird look. "What?"

"Why did Harry leave?" Hotch asked.

"They didn't really need me since the siege had stopped, and Jack and I were both in danger from threats so we figured it would be better that we lay low for a little bit," Harry said, but Hotch didn't look any less confused.

"The siege stopped?"

The group paused, and dread started to seep into Harry's heart. "Oh," he whispered, then closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. "The next few battles without you were rough. Everyone was so used to having all the profilers, and all of the leaders knew you well, and... Anyway, we weren't up to our normal standards, and we made some stupid mistakes." Quiet, then, "Gideon got hit by a curse. No clue what it was. We tried everything for months, but it..."

Hotch looked away. None of them spoke for a couple of minutes.

"Blaise was...not in a good place," Hermione said quietly. "He couldn't handle losing Gideon right after you. Harry had just gotten pulled into this world and none of us had known, so when the professors didn't tell us what was going on we thought the Death Eaters had taken Harry. We stormed the Ministry and Harry came back at the same time. He found out about Gideon and he wanted to go after the Death Eaters, and we were just about to stop him and try to make him seem reason when Blaise took off after him... We hadn't caught the ones who had killed either of you, and once it started... We followed the Death Eaters back to Malfoy Manor..."

"We forced an ultimatum an hour later and most of them surrendered. No more than a couple of Death Eaters escaped with Riddle," Harry finished.

"You won in two days?" Malfoy asked suddenly, and all of them looked at him so he flushed at the sudden attention. "Seems a bit ridiculous," he muttered.

"When he wakes up," Hermione said, gesturing to Draco, "ask him why. He can tell you better than we can."

She turned back to Hotch and explained everything else that had happened, describing the efforts to rebuild Hogwarts and to get everyone caught up on testing. For once, no had complained about it, surprisingly eager to get back to something like a normal life, even though the search for Riddle was still ongoing. Hermione wisely didn't mention Snape, unsure who knew about his spy status, which Harry was thankful for. Ron jumped in a couple of times to add something, but he mostly kept quiet as they were caught up to present-day events.

"We finished the basic warding on Quantico here so the two of us thought it was safe to leave for now and see what was happening here. Blackwolf sent some people to Quantico as a precaution, in case anything does happen, but for now it looks like that's unlikely." She paused. "There is one...hiccup, but we're not sure what it means. Ginny sent us a message saying that Luna saw Riddle go through the Veil, and they tried to follow but they were too slow, so he's in this world somewhere."

The name Riddle didn't get a reaction from any but Potter, who stiffened. Harry noted dimly that he probably would have been more concerned if Riddle would stop being a pansy about fights and actually came to try to kill Harry without sending an intermediary. "That's not the hiccup, is it?"

"Well, no. I mean, we sort of thought he was here anyway, so this just confirmed it. But the thing is, Ginny said Blaise and Luna were with her, but they needed to go check something out. They didn't say what."

"I need to have a talk with Blaise as soon as we find them," Harry said. "I don't know how his patronus got here, but he must have left it to follow me if it appeared to attack Foyet. While it worked, that was pretty dangerous."

"I wish I'd seen that," Ron muttered.

"It was glorious, let me tell you. But still, if you hear from him before I do, tell me what he's up to right now." He stopped. "Wait. Expecto patronum. Blaise. Are you trying to figure out where your patronus went?"

The reply came a couple of seconds later, irritable. "Yeah. You know where he is?" Potter and Malfoy stared at the dinosaur until it vanished, and then at Harry's elephant again as he summoned it for a reply.

"I think he's still chasing Foyet."

"Thanks."

"So, is Blue just running after Foyet in downtown D.C.?" Ron asked, snickering.

"I sincerely hope Blaise was smart enough to realize he needed to give it instructions to keep hidden from the general populace, however amusing that would be."

"You have...very different patronuses," Potter slowly said, the first time he'd spoken in a while.

"Mine changed form. Hooray for torture," Harry replied.

"And let me guess - Zabini is a good guy too?"

"Unless you're trying to beat him at Monopoly, but then, no one's a good guy in Monopoly," Ron said.

"So you all know each other pretty well, it sounds like," Potter slowly said.

"Not well enough, apparently," Harry sighed, glancing at Draco. Through all of this, he hadn't roused in the slightest. He ran a frustrated hand over his face. "I still don't get it! Fries!"

"Maybe you misheard him."

Hotch shook his head at the same time Harry did. "No, he was articulate."

"You know, his speaking patterns have changed," Hermione pointed out slowly. "We all sometimes use American slang, from being around Americans so often, but he occasionally uses an American accent. Maybe Garcia would have a better idea of what he was talking about, since she's been around him often and she definitely influenced how he speaks."

Harry stared for a long moment. "Garcia."

"What?"

"He didn't mean fries - he meant Fry's!" More staring. "Ugh, Fry's, the electronics store!" Hotch's back straightened and he started nodding quickly in understanding as Harry dug his phone out of his pocket. "Draco went there with Garcia when she bought him that laptop for his birthday. It was where he told her that he was splitting from his family, and she invited him to stay with her." He glared down at his phone when it gave him no service. "Speaking of those two," he muttered, "it's a bit sad how useless we are without them and their tech."

"Expecto patronum!" Ron's dog was summoned in front of him, and it wagged its tail eagerly. "Neville. Harry thinks Draco might have taken them to Fry's, the electronics store." It vanished. Ron smiled, trying to be hopeful. "It's the best chance we've got right now."

"Fry's isn't open twenty-four seven," Hotch said beside him and Harry sighed, nodding. Hermione and Ron stuttered slightly in keeping up with the conversation, not used to watching for Hotch saying anything.

"I know, but they probably could have hidden nearby, like at a fast food restaurant or something. It seems odd that they didn't try to contact the FBI already, but knowing Draco's paranoia, he might have told them not to do anything until he got back, especially if he thought he was being followed and he didn't know how."

A badger plopped onto the bed beside Harry. "Which one?" Neville's patronus asked and Harry paused.

"The one Garcia usually goes to. Ask her."

"What now?" Ron asked after a couple of seconds.

"We wait."

"I hate waiting."

"Ron. I have been with you for six years. How well do you think I know that?"

Just as he started to grumble, a low moan came from behind them, and Potter sprinted back to Weasley's bed. After a hesitant moment, Hermione and Ron curiously followed behind him, lingering a bit as they approached. Weasley made a startled noise when he saw them, but he was quickly taken up in explanations of how he had ended up in the infirmary, and then Potter seemed to be relaying some of what he had just heard a couple of minutes later. When nothing life-shattering happened, Harry and Hotch turned their backs to the group again.

"Harry," Hotch said, head tilted so Malfoy wouldn't be able to see what he was saying.

"I know," Harry replied quietly. "I shouldn't have said any of that either."

Hotch's eyes flickered to the side of his vision, where Malfoy was starting to shift positions. "We'll talk later," he said, and Harry nodded in agreement just as a loud thumping sound made them both glance sharply behind them again.

"You idiot!" Ron was crying out, using a pillow from a neighboring bed to smack his doppelganger repeatedly in the face. Ginny Weasley seemed entirely agreeable with this, almost falling out of her chair with laughter. Granger was startled but smug. "You absolute complete buffoon!" Another smack as Weasley squawked, almost falling off the bed in his haste to get away.

"Uh, he was just, y'know, dying a couple of hours ago," Potter tried to say, although he didn't otherwise intercede.

"Serves him right!" Ron shouted back with a series of quick pillow hits. Harry hoped Pomfrey just let this happen for a little bit so he could savor the image in his head. He had a feeling he knew what Ron had just been told. "Are you out of your mind?"

"You don't know what she's like!" Weasley protested.

Ron threw the pillow on the bed before he accidentally murdered his alternate self. "Someone who poisons other people, apparently!"

"What are you angry at me for?" Weasley shouted furiously, taking the pillow and smacking Ron with it. "You don't even know what's going on here!"

"You are so stupid!"

"Perhaps I will have to reconsider some of what I said," Malfoy spoke up, voice carrying to Harry and Hotch. "It would seem, somehow, Weasley and I do have something in common - a mutual hatred of himself."

"I don't think you'd agree too much with why he's irritated," Harry said, smiling, as Ron stalked away from the bed, muttering crossly under his breath. Hermione glanced between the bed and her boyfriend, then ran after the latter to make sure he wasn't going to do something stupid when he left before she could calm him down. "Hermione, why don't you head back?" he called as she passed his bed in a hurry. "We'll be there when Draco and Jack can both leave."

She waved in acknowledgement, making sure to close the infirmary doors behind them. If he'd had money and anyone to bet with, Harry would have put a twenty down on the couple snogging as soon as they were out of sight. As it was, he had to settle for exchanging an amused look with his father.

"Aren't they dramatic?" someone muttered.

Harry whipped towards the bed. "Draco!"