Harry awoke the next morning suffering from overheating. He was panting and
sweating, and had many blankets thrown over him. He kicked them off with
unnecessary force and jumped out of bed. He shed his two sweaters and thick
socks and let his feet sit on the cold stone floor. "Why was I wearing all
that?" He asked aloud, but to himself.
"You were freezing," said Ron from his own bed, looking at him and grinning. "Seems you're better now." Harry smiled. Maybe all of last night was just a nightmare. "You gave us all a scare," Ron continued, picking Harry's covers off the floor, "You were wet and shivering. Madam Pomfrey says you're okay now, though. What happened to you?" Harry sighed. "I guess it wasn't a dream," he whispered.
"I don't know," he said truthfully, "I heard the ringing and ran outside, then Malfoy followed me and we fell in a lake where McGonagall found us and Snape brought us back. It's not as dramatic as you're making it seem." Ron smiled. "It's always dramatic with you, Harry."
Harry turned crimson. "Yeah," he said laughing, "but right now, it's breakfast."
The two headed down to the Great Hall in anticipation of a nice breakfast. On the way down, Harry ran right into Malfoy. "Ow!" He exclaimed, rubbing his forehead. Malfoy looked at him with distaste. "Honestly Potter, watch it," he hissed, and walked off in the opposite direction. They ran the rest of the way to breakfast, knowing they were already late, but still needing nourishment. When they arrived, the first thing they saw shocked them. "Hey!" Ron shouted, punching Harry in the side, "Harry! That's you! That's you, Harry!" Harry stared in disbelief. He shuddered a little as he slowly approached the other version of himself. 'So we did pass through it,' he thought, coming up behind the imposter Harry.
They caught up with him, to see he was talking to Malfoy. "Wow," Ron whispered in his ear, "whoever that is pretending to be you, certainly doesn't know how life really is." Harry almost chuckled, but held it back. 'Didn't we just see Malfoy on the way here?'
Harry tapped the other Harry on the shoulder. He spun around and jumped, but calmed down almost immediately. "You must be Harry," he said slowly, announcing each syllable like he was a toddler, "Dumbledore told me about you. Technically, that makes me Yrrah." Harry made a face. Harry backwards.
"You can think of another name," he said, just as slowly as the other boy, who looked back, offended. "You don't have to talk so slow." He said, still slower than Harry had spoken.
"Then why do you?" Ron asked, crossing his arms. The imposter looked at him in confusion. "I'm trying to speak correctly." He said, as if it were completely obvious. Professor McGonagall laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. "A word?" Harry turned to leave, glad to get away from his creepy counterpart.
She pulled him into a corner of the hall and spoke to him normally. "Harry, you need to be patient with him. I'm patient with mine," she waved her hand over to an exact imitation of herself. "The thing is, it's hard for them to work correctly." She paused and searched for the right words. "They speak backwards, so their minds need a little more time to translate things. As a result, they speak, move, and think slightly slower than we do."
"Oh," Harry said meekly, blushing at how he had treated the boy. "I didn't know."
McGonagall ignored his embarrassment. "Also, your.duplicate takes on the things you were feeling when you passed through the symophone. Mine is rather distressed all the time." She sighed. "So yours might be scared or angry. You'll just need to put up with it until we can figure out how to send them back."
Harry nodded and trotted back to the table where Ron was sitting, talking to Yrrah. "We can call you. Ben," he said, trying to talk the boy out of his name. "Or just 'The Other Harry.'" Harry sat down next to him and looked at the boy. "Amazing," he said, eyeing him with vigor. "You look just like me." The boy blushed.
"I know; I was rather fortunate," he said, and looked over at Malfoy. Or was that the imposter Malfoy? Harry didn't know. "Ocard is lucky too. I mean, look at him." Harry and Ron sat stunned, making disgusted faces at the boy.
"You think he's attractive?" Ron gasped, and moved away from Yrrah. He grinned. "Not like you're thinking, I'm sure. I don't know why, but I just feel the need to be around him. He's quite charismatic, you know." Harry groaned and leaned over to Ron.
"Let me explain that," he whispered in his ear, and pulled him away from the table. Hermione sat and talked to Yrrah like he was the normal Harry, but gave the two odd glances of wondering.
Harry pulled Ron's arm over to the corner he had stood in with Professor McGonagall. "You see," he started, desperate to explain why the copy-cat Harry wanted to spend time with Malfoy, "the clones," he paused, hoping to find a more suitable word, but could not, "the clones take on whatever feelings we had when we passed through.whatever it was." Ron stared at him blankly.
"And you were feeling an odd closeness to Malfoy?" He asked, more than a little confused and shocked. Harry shook his head. "Yes, and no. He was the only one of us who had a wand, so I was trying to keep up with him, and I guess that's when it happened." Ron nodded his understanding. "So, Yrrah, or whatever he wants to be called, is going to be you, only liking Malfoy?" Harry shrugged. "Guess so."
They walked back to the table, neither one fully understanding their predicament. Both Malfoys were now at the Slytherin table, admiring the other as one might do in a mirror. "That's sick," Hermione said as they sat back down. "He's not even that good-looking." Harry looked over at the staff table, trying to ignore the clones on the other side of the room. Professor Flitwick sat directly next to another one of himself, talking animatedly about something or another. It was apparent that he enjoyed having someone to talk to with similar interests, though the copy seemed to be glancing around the room nervously. 'Paranoia,' Harry thought, 'that's what he was feeling at the time.'
Next to the Flitwicks were Sprout and the other Sprout, and the calm Professor McGonagall. She seemed to be putting up with her clone rather well. Harry glanced down the rest of the table, which looked normal, until he reached Professor Snape. He was sitting next to his other self, and seemed to be in a heated argument. "I guess no one can tolerate Snape," Ron joked after following his gaze, "Not even himself."
Harry sniggered to himself as he watched the two identical men. He wasn't sure which Snape was the one he knew, and which was the other one. They were both red in the face, their lips thin with anger, sneering things at each other with their lips curling. One slammed his hand on the table, though more in demonstration than in anger, and one of their glasses fell over, spilling a red liquid down the table. One of the Snape's jumped out of his seat and quickly began mopping up the mess before any of it could fall onto the clone McGonagall. Harry furrowed his brow in thought.
"That must be the clone Snape," Hermione said, thinking along the same lines as Harry. "Chances are when Snape passed through the symophone he was worried and probably being over protective." She paused a little when Harry turned around; he was glad Ron explained the situation to her, and also that she could rationalize things so well. She raised her eyebrows and giggled a little. "That's so funny."
Ron glanced over at her in disbelief. "How is that funny? We have two Snapes! Double the points from Gryffindor! Double the lecturing! Double the tall, greasy man leering over us and breathing down our necks!" Harry patted him on the shoulder in a feeble effort to calm him down. Hermione puffed out her chest and straightened her back. "I meant it's funny because Snape is concerned. It will be a nice change from his usual callousness."
"You were freezing," said Ron from his own bed, looking at him and grinning. "Seems you're better now." Harry smiled. Maybe all of last night was just a nightmare. "You gave us all a scare," Ron continued, picking Harry's covers off the floor, "You were wet and shivering. Madam Pomfrey says you're okay now, though. What happened to you?" Harry sighed. "I guess it wasn't a dream," he whispered.
"I don't know," he said truthfully, "I heard the ringing and ran outside, then Malfoy followed me and we fell in a lake where McGonagall found us and Snape brought us back. It's not as dramatic as you're making it seem." Ron smiled. "It's always dramatic with you, Harry."
Harry turned crimson. "Yeah," he said laughing, "but right now, it's breakfast."
The two headed down to the Great Hall in anticipation of a nice breakfast. On the way down, Harry ran right into Malfoy. "Ow!" He exclaimed, rubbing his forehead. Malfoy looked at him with distaste. "Honestly Potter, watch it," he hissed, and walked off in the opposite direction. They ran the rest of the way to breakfast, knowing they were already late, but still needing nourishment. When they arrived, the first thing they saw shocked them. "Hey!" Ron shouted, punching Harry in the side, "Harry! That's you! That's you, Harry!" Harry stared in disbelief. He shuddered a little as he slowly approached the other version of himself. 'So we did pass through it,' he thought, coming up behind the imposter Harry.
They caught up with him, to see he was talking to Malfoy. "Wow," Ron whispered in his ear, "whoever that is pretending to be you, certainly doesn't know how life really is." Harry almost chuckled, but held it back. 'Didn't we just see Malfoy on the way here?'
Harry tapped the other Harry on the shoulder. He spun around and jumped, but calmed down almost immediately. "You must be Harry," he said slowly, announcing each syllable like he was a toddler, "Dumbledore told me about you. Technically, that makes me Yrrah." Harry made a face. Harry backwards.
"You can think of another name," he said, just as slowly as the other boy, who looked back, offended. "You don't have to talk so slow." He said, still slower than Harry had spoken.
"Then why do you?" Ron asked, crossing his arms. The imposter looked at him in confusion. "I'm trying to speak correctly." He said, as if it were completely obvious. Professor McGonagall laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. "A word?" Harry turned to leave, glad to get away from his creepy counterpart.
She pulled him into a corner of the hall and spoke to him normally. "Harry, you need to be patient with him. I'm patient with mine," she waved her hand over to an exact imitation of herself. "The thing is, it's hard for them to work correctly." She paused and searched for the right words. "They speak backwards, so their minds need a little more time to translate things. As a result, they speak, move, and think slightly slower than we do."
"Oh," Harry said meekly, blushing at how he had treated the boy. "I didn't know."
McGonagall ignored his embarrassment. "Also, your.duplicate takes on the things you were feeling when you passed through the symophone. Mine is rather distressed all the time." She sighed. "So yours might be scared or angry. You'll just need to put up with it until we can figure out how to send them back."
Harry nodded and trotted back to the table where Ron was sitting, talking to Yrrah. "We can call you. Ben," he said, trying to talk the boy out of his name. "Or just 'The Other Harry.'" Harry sat down next to him and looked at the boy. "Amazing," he said, eyeing him with vigor. "You look just like me." The boy blushed.
"I know; I was rather fortunate," he said, and looked over at Malfoy. Or was that the imposter Malfoy? Harry didn't know. "Ocard is lucky too. I mean, look at him." Harry and Ron sat stunned, making disgusted faces at the boy.
"You think he's attractive?" Ron gasped, and moved away from Yrrah. He grinned. "Not like you're thinking, I'm sure. I don't know why, but I just feel the need to be around him. He's quite charismatic, you know." Harry groaned and leaned over to Ron.
"Let me explain that," he whispered in his ear, and pulled him away from the table. Hermione sat and talked to Yrrah like he was the normal Harry, but gave the two odd glances of wondering.
Harry pulled Ron's arm over to the corner he had stood in with Professor McGonagall. "You see," he started, desperate to explain why the copy-cat Harry wanted to spend time with Malfoy, "the clones," he paused, hoping to find a more suitable word, but could not, "the clones take on whatever feelings we had when we passed through.whatever it was." Ron stared at him blankly.
"And you were feeling an odd closeness to Malfoy?" He asked, more than a little confused and shocked. Harry shook his head. "Yes, and no. He was the only one of us who had a wand, so I was trying to keep up with him, and I guess that's when it happened." Ron nodded his understanding. "So, Yrrah, or whatever he wants to be called, is going to be you, only liking Malfoy?" Harry shrugged. "Guess so."
They walked back to the table, neither one fully understanding their predicament. Both Malfoys were now at the Slytherin table, admiring the other as one might do in a mirror. "That's sick," Hermione said as they sat back down. "He's not even that good-looking." Harry looked over at the staff table, trying to ignore the clones on the other side of the room. Professor Flitwick sat directly next to another one of himself, talking animatedly about something or another. It was apparent that he enjoyed having someone to talk to with similar interests, though the copy seemed to be glancing around the room nervously. 'Paranoia,' Harry thought, 'that's what he was feeling at the time.'
Next to the Flitwicks were Sprout and the other Sprout, and the calm Professor McGonagall. She seemed to be putting up with her clone rather well. Harry glanced down the rest of the table, which looked normal, until he reached Professor Snape. He was sitting next to his other self, and seemed to be in a heated argument. "I guess no one can tolerate Snape," Ron joked after following his gaze, "Not even himself."
Harry sniggered to himself as he watched the two identical men. He wasn't sure which Snape was the one he knew, and which was the other one. They were both red in the face, their lips thin with anger, sneering things at each other with their lips curling. One slammed his hand on the table, though more in demonstration than in anger, and one of their glasses fell over, spilling a red liquid down the table. One of the Snape's jumped out of his seat and quickly began mopping up the mess before any of it could fall onto the clone McGonagall. Harry furrowed his brow in thought.
"That must be the clone Snape," Hermione said, thinking along the same lines as Harry. "Chances are when Snape passed through the symophone he was worried and probably being over protective." She paused a little when Harry turned around; he was glad Ron explained the situation to her, and also that she could rationalize things so well. She raised her eyebrows and giggled a little. "That's so funny."
Ron glanced over at her in disbelief. "How is that funny? We have two Snapes! Double the points from Gryffindor! Double the lecturing! Double the tall, greasy man leering over us and breathing down our necks!" Harry patted him on the shoulder in a feeble effort to calm him down. Hermione puffed out her chest and straightened her back. "I meant it's funny because Snape is concerned. It will be a nice change from his usual callousness."
