CHAPTER 4

He had no idea why he was here. He hadn't come to Godric's Hollow since 1997 when he and Hermione were attacked by Nagini, disguised as Bathilda Bagshot. It was the night his first wand had been broken.

Harry passed St. Jerome's Church, heading into the village's graveyard, stopping only when he reached his parents' tombstones.

How was she here, dead, and in that safe house, alive, at the same time? Was that what Ivan Azarov meant when he said it was all happening at the same time? Harry kept replaying Azarov's words in his head, hoping they would make sense with time, but it was useless. Maybe he really was beyond help and completely nutters. From what Hannah said, the bloke practically lived in St. Mungo's. Maybe Harry had been reading too much into it and there was no conspiracy. Maybe Azarov just blew a fuse working overtime at the Department of Mysteries and his mental health deteriorated.

The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death, read the message on the tombstone.

Harry almost laughed at the irony.

A sudden rustle made him turn around. There it was again, the feeling that he was being watched. He had it first that night at home, when his girlfriend tried to convince him it was just a dog, but he could've sworn he spent the whole week being followed.

Maybe it was all in his head, but years being chased by Voldemort and his Death Eaters made him paranoid. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, like they often did when he was around dark magic.

Ultimately, it was all it was – a feeling – since Harry couldn't actually see anyone. That didn't comfort him, though, since the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach didn't seem to plan on going away.

xxx

Harry was no stranger to sleepless nights, having dealt with enough trauma in his life. Staring up at the ceiling, counting sheep, while trying to ignore his awake mind was not new to him. He still had nightmares from time to time. Yet, it wasn't the war that filled his dreams recently. He'd been dreaming about the Dursleys a lot. Not anything important, just mundane stuff that happened, like the way they used to make him cook breakfast since he was seven or how they would force him to do all the house chores while his cousin watched TV and played with his Playstation. Last night, he'd dreamt about the day they parted, eight years ago, when Duddley had shaken his hand and told him he didn't think he was a waste of space.

Why was he suddenly getting those images in his brain? He hadn't thought about the Dursleys in years, good riddance.

Blaming it on his tired brain and lack of sleep, Harry got up. There was no use staying in bed if he wasn't sleeping. He would start the day early; get to work on time, for a change. Robards would be thrilled.

His girlfriend had been to Manchester for a couple of days, which meant he had the whole house to himself. In light of recent events, he supposed that was a good thing.

So he took a shower and got dressed. While he was having breakfast, Pigwidgeon entered through the open window and started to flutter his wings around as if announcing his excitement for delivering mail. Harry took the small letter attached to the bird's leg and immediately recognized Ron's messy handwriting.

Dinner at 7, my place. Don't be late or Hermione will kill me. And don't dare not showing up or I will kill you.

Harry supposed that was fair. He'd been acting rather reclusive. More than usual, anyway. Deciding he did owe Ron for standing him up the other day, he wrote back his confirmation, before finishing his breakfast and apparating to the Ministry. Reaching the Auror Department, he passed Lavender who gave him an overfriendly smile.

"Good morning, Harry" she greeted, waving her fingers. "Robards wants to see you."

"What for?" asked Harry.

"I don't know. He just asked me to tell you that when you arrived."

"Okay, thanks."

"You're welcome, bestie," said Lavender, making Harry grimace.

Harry head to his boss' office, knocking before opening the door. "Lavender said you wanted to see me."

"Yes. Come in and close the door," offered Robards and Harry took the seat opposite him. "I wanted to know how everything's going with the Clark's case."

"It's going fine, sir."

"Fine? I assigned you that case two weeks ago. Usually, you have something more than it's going fine by now," Robards complained.

Harry hated to admit his obsession with finding out what happened with Janine was keeping him so busy, that his official actual work had been suffering. He hadn't been giving it the attention it deserved.

"Things have been a bit slower, lately, since I've been doing everything by myself," Harry improvised.

Robards raised an eyebrow. "Are you being cheeky, Potter?"

"No, sir,".

"Well, you don't need to worry, then," his boss said. "Your partner comes back on Thursday. You'll have plenty of help and no excuses."

"Yes, sir."

"Anyway," Robards changed the subject. "If it's not you that's using it, then I'll ask Dawlish. I think he mentioned he was using one."

"One what?"

"A Ministry safe house. Savage's wants to use one for a witness, but he can't seem to find any of the registered ones, which means someone already cast the Fidelus Charm and they're currently occupied," answered Robards. An alarm went off on Harry's mind. "Which doesn't make sense because, according to the records, there should be at least one empty safe house. These people, you tell them to log it, but it goes one ear out the other, doesn't it?"

"They're just not used to doing things this way, sir," said Harry.

"Well, they're going to have to get used to it. We didn't make these rules so they'd be ignored. You can go back to work, Potter, I'll deal with it."

Once at his cubicle, Harry found himself not being able to focus. He knew he should be concentrating on the Clark's case, but his mind was running its own course and didn't seem keen on stopping replaying his recent visit to St. Mungo's.

Not the Past! The Present!

The former Unspeakable's words seemed glued to his brain, repeating themselves over and over again.

"Morning, Harry." His obsessive thoughts were temporarily interrupted.

"Hey, Neville."

His friend sat down at his cubicle and Harry thought something was off. "Is everything okay?" he asked.

Neville seemed distracted. "Huh? Oh, yeah, sure, everything's fine." He seemed to be considering if sharing his distress was worth it. "It's just stuff with Hannah."

"What happened? Did you guys have a fight?"

"No. Well, not really. I was just trying to help, but ended up mucking things up, as usual."

"Come on, that's something the old Neville would say. I've seen you and Hannah together. I have a hard time believing you'd do something that serious."

Neville sighed. "It's just she's been so busy with waitressing and her Healer training, she barely has any time for me," his friend said, blushing slightly.

"I didn't know she wanted to be a Healer," said Harry, conveniently leaving out the part about encountering his friend's girlfriend at St. Mungo's the other day. Although, Neville should probably know about it by now.

"It's always been her dream. Waitressing at the Leaky Cauldron's just a way to help her pay for her studies. And I'm really proud of her, for going after what she wants. But you should've seen her yesterday at dinner. She almost fell asleep in her soup."

"That bad, huh?"

"Between her classes and the pub, and now this internship she signed up for… I just worry that she's not taking care of herself," said Neville. "But she misses my whole point and gets furious. Says I don't believe she can do it, which it's crazy, because if anyone can do it, it's her. She has the drive of a madwoman, that one, I tell you."

"It looks like she's been under a lot a stress," Harry observed.

"That's what I keep telling her. Maybe she's taking on too much. I tell her maybe you shouldn't be doing all of it at the same time, you know? Just earn some money first and then-"

Neville continued his confidences but Harry wasn't listening. Not anymore. He seemed to be getting a weird sense of déjà vu.

It's all happening at the same time.

All of a sudden, something just seemed to click. But that was impossible, wasn't it?

Feeling the adrenaline pumping through his veins, Harry stoop up. There was somewhere else he needed to be.

"… that if we talk about it and explain, everything will be all right, right, Harry?"

"Yeah, everything's going to be fine. Look, sorry, Neville, but I've got to go. Just remembered I forgot to check out this source."

"Oh, okay," said Neville, looking a bit disappointed "We'll talk later."

Harry left the department and headed straight to the Archives, passing through the clerk and ignoring him in the process ("Hey, you have to sign the parchment!"), until he reached the section of Unproved Theories.

He searched through the books, trying to come across a particular one he had read during his initial research. He flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for. The writing was barely noticeable, so he adjusted his glasses, as he read.

Muggle science has been debating the questions of time for centuries. In 1952, in Dublin, Erwin Schrödinger, a muggle physicist, gave a lecture in which said that his equations seemed to describe several different histories, these were "not alternatives, but all really happen simultaneously". The American philosopher and psychologist William James used the term "multiverse" in 1895, but in a different context. The term was first used in fiction and in its current physics context by Michael Moorcock, a muggle writer, in his 1963 SF Adventures novella The Sundered Worlds.

Harry skimmed through the next paragraphs until he reached the one he wanted.

This means that some people seem to believe that each time a decision is made, each option creates different realities in which these results are explored. A parallel universe, also known as a parallel dimension, alternate universe or alternate reality, is a hypothetical self-contained plane of existence, co-existing with one's own.

Harry closed the book with a thud.

It's all happening at the same time.

Could it be?

Janine had said her first son had died twenty-four years ago, exactly the amount of time his own parents had been dead. What if he had been looking at this all wrong? What if she really was Lily Potter, just not his Lily Potter? What if something had happened that created these alternative realities, one in which Harry lived, and another where his parents lived?

Anxiety running through his body, Harry disapparated. He was so excited with his new found discovery that he barely saw him. There was a man standing at the safe house's door. The crack from Harry's own apparition seamed to startle him as he turned around but didn't say anything.

"Can I help you?" asked Harry, far enough that he couldn't make out the man's features. Since the man didn't respond, Harry approached him and what he saw made his heart jump in his chest. He reminded him painfully of someone. "Are you lost?"

The man looked confused for a moment. "Yes."

It was only when Harry saw the man run a hand through his hair that he realized this person reminded him of himself.

"Would you like to come in?" Harry asked.

"Is she here?"

Without saying a word, Harry opened the front door and let the man inside first. If he meant any harm, his wards would flare up. They didn't.

Cautiously, the man entered the house, stopping in the hall. Harry was right behind him.

"Harry? Is that you?"

Harry took a few steps forward until his body was covering Janine's view of their guest.

"Hi," she greeted, appearing in the hall, holding a glass of water. "I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow." When she saw Harry's face, she added: "What happened?"

"There's someone here to see you," said Harry. He took a step aside and Janine's glass shattered on the floor.

"James?"

The next series of events looked as if Harry was having an out of body experience. All of a sudden, he was in number four Private Drive, watching a show on the television while his aunt and uncle had gone out, taking Dudley out for ice cream. The characters were hugging and she was crying. Words of comfort were being spoken, but Harry couldn't hear anything, because someone had put the TV on mute.

"Are you listening?"

The mute was off. Everything came back into focus. He was in the living room, sitting on the sofa (how did he get there?) and they were looking at him expectantly.

"Did you hear what I said?" She was talking.

"Yes," Harry lied.

"Then where did you find him?"

"Actually, I found him," James saved him from answering. James Potter. Sitting in the living room. Holding Lily Potter's hand. It was all just too surreal. "I saw you leaving the Ministry with Lily. Things were confusing at the time, I thought you had been captured, so I followed you here. And then you disappeared out of thin air. At the time, I thought you had disapparatted. I should've thought of the Fidelius," he added as he looked at his wife, a relived smile on his lips.

"You were following me," said Harry as if just registering his words. "For weeks."

"Yes," James confirmed. "I knew sooner or later you'd lead me to her."

"Why didn't you announce your presence sooner?"

"I had to make sure it was safe. That you meant us no harm." He turned to Lily. "I kept coming here, stayed outside the whole day, hoping to see you again."

"Well, where the hell have you been?" asked Lily anxiously. "After we went through the black door at the Department of Mysteries, you were gone."

"I couldn't find you either. I don't know what happened. I must've lost consciousness, because the next thing I remembered, I was at the Leaky Cauldron." His hair wasn't as untidy as he expected, Harry noticed. "I looked everywhere for you, Lily. Thing's aren't the same here." He still had the same round spectacles, like the ones Harry used to have, before he got new ones.

"I know. Something's off. Harry's been trying to help me find a way to get back," said Lily.

Harry took out something from his pocket, holding it in his right hand.

"Did you follow me home?" asked Harry.

"Yes," answered James. Harry clasped the small vial. "I'm an Auror too."

Harry was angry. At James. At Lily. At himself. He'd been careless. He was so preoccupied with Lily that he didn't noticed he was being followed sooner.

"What's that?" asked Lily, pointing at Harry's right hand, which he now realized he was still clutching. He opened it, revealing the small vial.

She seemed to recognize the colourless liquid, for her face hardened. "What are you going to do with that?" she asked with a controlled voice.

"I think I know what happened to you," answered Harry. "I just need to confirm it first."

"With Verisaterum?" James spat, making Harry understand he, too, recognized the truth potion.

He looked at James' angry eyes, still feeling detached from the whole situation. He was behaving in auto-pilot, handling it like it was just another Ministry case, simply following protocol. Make sure you leave no room for doubt, before disclosing your findings.

"I'll tell you everything," Harry promised. "After confirmation."

"We're not Death Eaters," uttered James. "You don't need to use that on us".

"James-," started Lily, but James was not finished.

"Who do you think you are?" he accused. "First, you keep my wife here for your own agenda, then you want to use Verisaterum on us-"

"I assure you, keeping your wife here was for my own agenda as much as hers," said Harry calmly.

"I find that hard to believe!"

"James-" Lily tried again.

"You can't be buying this shit, Lily," said James addressing his wife. "He could be working for Voldemort!"

"He's not working for Voldemort," said Lily as if the idea was ridiculous. "He doesn't want to hurt me."

"How do you know that?" asked James.

"I've been here for months, James! If Harry wanted to hurt me or hand me over to him, he would've done that already."

"You should listen to your wife," offered Harry. "She's obviously the smart one."

This left James even angrier, probably hating to have his private conversation with his wife interrupted.

"Harry," Lily scolded. Harry returned her gaze.

"We don't know this bloke. He could be up to something," said James. "Now that I'm here, you're going nowhere near her."

Harry rolled his eyes. "That's a bit overkill, don't you think?"

"No, I don't" insisted James. "For Lily, I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

"I think emotions are running high and it's time for a compromise," interrupted Lily. She looked at Harry. "We all take a sip."

James eyes widened with shock. "Lily! You can't possibly be suggesting that!"

"I am," said Lily, her eyes never leaving Harry's, testing him. Harry wasn't a Legilimens, but he could almost guess what her mind was saying. How far are you willing to go?

"Lily, you're not thinking clearly," pleaded James. "Imagine the secrets he could pluck out from us," he added in a whisper.

"Exactly," she said, defiant.

"Fair enough," agreed Harry, taking the initiative. After taking a small sip from the serum, he stretched out his arm. When James made a motion to take the vial next, Harry stopped him. "I think she should be next."

Lily looked at him, surprise on her face, but took the vial, nonetheless.

They were on equal footing, now. The three of them, quietly, regarding each other.

"I just want to ask one question," said Harry. "What are your names?"

James and Lily blinked, clearly expecting something else.

"My name's Lily Potter."

"And mine's James Potter."

And there it was, official confirmation that the couple in front of him was really James and Lily Potter. Hearing those words were not what Harry expected, though. The whole thing felt rather anti-climactic.

"That's it?" asked James.

"I said I only had one question," said Harry simply.

"Why the persistent distrust with our identities?" asked Lily.

It was probably time to reveal the truth.

"Have you heard about the Multiverse Theory?" Harry asked.

"Sure, in muggle fiction books."

Of course Lily would be familiarized with the term. Being a muggle born, she must have come across it multiple times.

"It's a muggle theory," he continued. "Although it gained fame in science fiction books and films, the theory has been supported by a number of scientists, but left unproved. I found out the Department of Mysteries has been doing some illegal experiments. I think they were trying to travel through time and bring someone from the Past, but something went wrong. I think that, instead, you came out."

"So we're from another reality, is that what you're saying?" asked James.

"Yes," Harry confirmed. "According to the Multiverse Theory, each time someone makes a choice, multiple realities are born in which they explore its results. And they all co-exist," he explained. "And the last experiment happened on the same day Lily says you were all in the Department of Mysteries, back in your reality."

"That's crazy," refuted James. "I think we would've noticed if we were pulled from another reality."

"Compared to what? Have you done it before?" Harry couldn't help it. The arrogance of the man was unbelievable.

"If that's true, how come I ended up at the Ministry of Magic and James at the Leaky Cauldron?" asked Lily.

"I'm guessing you all arrived here in the same place you left – the Department of Mysteries. But you had no authorization to be in there, not in this reality, so the charms placed at the Department confused you and you went different places."

Lily was quiet and had a frown on her face, seeming deep in thought. James, on the other hand, was looking from his wife to Harry, probably waiting for someone to go and say "April Fools!". But no one did. And he couldn't even contest it, because Harry'd been under the Verisaterum the whole time, so he couldn't be lying.

He took another small vial, which held a purplish liquid, and gave it to James.

"What's this?" James asked, suspiciously.

"It's the antidote. Drink it."

James did as he was told and then gave the vial to Lily, so she could too swallow the liquid.

"Now, I can't have you wander about the place. People would see you and get suspicious," said Harry. "But you can't stay here either. This is a Ministry safe house and I haven't registered it as being occupied, so another Auror might want to use it."

"Where are we staying then?" asked Lily.

Harry had thought long and hard about his. After his conversation with Robards this morning, he knew he couldn't keep Lily and James there any longer. He had to move them somewhere else. Somewhere safe, discreet, where Harry could keep an eye on them.

There was only one option.

"My place," he finally said. "You're going to be staying with me."

A/N: Thank God for Wikipedia.

Thank you so much for the reviews (english is not my first language so it means the world to me). I do read them and I do appreciate them.