C h a p t e r T h r e e

Potter or Hunter?

Tim was sitting on the train, listening to the Chemical Brothers CD on the player that he had gotten from Nick. He relaxed as "Let Forever Be" blared on the headphones.

"How does it feel/To wake up as the sun?/ And how does it feel like/To shine on everyone?"

The train was still loading passengers, and he was staring out the window. So it was that he didn't hear the door open.

"Oh, there you are, Harry. Wondered where you disappeared to." A male voice called him. Upon no response, Tim felt somebody shaking his shoulder, and he turned angrily at the intruder.

"What?" He switched off the player, and stared at the teenager about his age with bright red hair, and lanky features.

The other boy frowned, and looked at him a bit, "Uh, sorry, thought you were somebody else." He was standing nearby in the booth.

He snorted, "Been getting that a lot around here. Some Porter or Potter bloke, right?"

"Yeah, Harry Potter. Don't you know about him?"

"No, except we look alike. Why?"

The other boy seemed shocked at this statement, "But he's gone up against He-Must-Not-Named, and survived. When he was little even! You're not a Muggle, so how can you not know?"

"A what?" Tim stared at him, and wondered if he was crazy.

"A Muggle, you know. Somebody who doesn't do magic. How old are you?"

"15. And I have done some magic," Tim replied with a secretive grin. Understating things just a little. "I'm new around here." He admitted.

"Oh, ok. Um, I'm Ron. Ron Weasley."

"Tim Hunter," He said, and the two shook hands.

The door then slid open, and another boy entered.

"Hey Ron, told you to wait up, and...." He trailed off, staring at the boy sitting in the compartment. Tim likewise was studying the young man with his scruffy head of black hair, green eyes, and glasses. Yes, there was a resemblance, and a pretty strong one at that. Close enough that they could be considered brothers. The other teen was likewise noticing the dark brown hair, the blue eyes, and glasses, and the fact he looked almost identical to himself. He was an only child so there was no chance of a sibling, but it was still rather eerie.

Tim was the first to ask, "Guessing you're Potter?"

"Yeah, I'm Harry Potter." He didn't seem surprised. But then considering how well he was known around here, to be expected. Harry then asked, "Uh, who are you?"

"I'm known as Tim Hunter."

"Known as?"

Tim smirked, "Didn't they tell you? First rule of magic: never reveal your true name, or ask for somebody's name. Ask for what they want to be called instead." He wondered what kind of magic they taught at Hogwarts. Obviously there was going to be some differences if they use wands to make spells, and mix potions.

"Er, alright then."

"Can I ask you a question?" Tim then said, and upon getting the other teen's nod, "Why the hell is everybody staring at my bleeding forehead?"

"Oh, that. They're probably looking for this," And Harry lifted back the fringe that obscured a lightning shaped scar on his forehead.

Tim wondered how Harry had gotten it, but before he could say anything, Harry held out his hand.

"Er, well, nice meeting you."

"Same here," Tim agreed, and went to shake the proffered hand. The pair tensed, and suddenly felt a strange drawing together sensation go through them. Almost like the two of them merging, becoming one:

I/We are Tim Hunter/Harry Potter, destined to be the greatest mage/wizard of our time. I/We watch as my/our parents are murdered, and Voldemort about to kill me/us. And my/our mother is saying goodbye to me/us as she goes to leave. And then the police show up later to tell me/us that my/our mother has died in a car crash, and my/our father lost his arm. Years go by, I/We get older, and now we're eleven/twelve, and Hagrid tells me/us that I'm/we're a wizard, and four men (Constantine, Dr. Occult, the Stranger, and Mr. E) step out the shadows to ask me/us if we believe in magic. And I/We make our decision. I/We accept the magic, and it's changing us. A falcon turns into my/our real father, Tam Lin, and I/we learn that my/our father was an Animagus, and his form was a stag. Evil returns again as Voldemort, as Mr. Wrong , as Lily, and poison nearly kills us. I/We can feel the pain of the venom of manticore, of the basilik burning through our veins. And then there is the old Merlin and he is looking at us...

"Oy, you two alright?" Ron was staring at them both worriedly, and the two came out of their trances, and broke contact with each other. Harry and Tim both turned toward Ron at the same time, and replied in sync, "I'm fine." They glanced at each other, and both seemed to laugh a little.

Harry asked, "What was..."

"...that all about?" Tim finished. "Not sure. Your parents are dead?"

"That's right, yours too?"

"Yeah. All of them now."

"All? Oh, you met your real father later. He was an Animagus, too?"

"They turn into an animal, right? Uh, kind of. He was Tam Lin. And your father turned into a stag deer?"

Ron jumped in, and demanded, "How are you two knowing all this?"

Harry replied, "Not sure, we kind of..."

"...saw into each other. Don't know what that meant." Tim was a bit confused, though he wondered why the old Merlin was looking at both of them. He remembered him mentioning something about different faces and names, but same song. Tim had understood that he was to be a conduit for magic. But what about this Harry Potter bloke? Did he have the same destiny? And what was with that Voldemort character? The evil there, he had seen some of it in demons like Barbatos and Vasuki, and the manipulations of angels, but nothing he had experienced really compared with this ominous sense of foreboding he felt. The closest comparison might have been Mr. Lily, head of the Lotus, or his Other, what Molly had called Mr. Wrong, but in any case, it made him uneasy.

Harry didn't know what to think. Ever since he had learned that his parents were wizards, and that he was one as well, he also was told how unique he was. The Boy Who Lived. Now here was this lad who not only resembled him, but also apparently lived a similar life. What did it mean? And part of him worried a little for his new friend's sake. Harry had been targeted by Voldemort all of his life. What if he decided to come after Tim as well?

The door sliding open again broke their individual reveries, and a breathless young woman gasped out, "There you are! I wondered what happened to you two." She then stopped upon noticing the other occupant in the booth, and pushed some of her bushy brown hair away from her face. Her gaze went from Tim to Harry, and back again.

"Um, hello?"

Harry grinned at her, "Hermione, this is Tim Hunter. He's a new student at Hogwarts. About our age." He then introduced, "Tim, this is Hermione Granger."

"Top student in our class," Ron piped up.

"Er, nice to meet you," Tim said to her.

She smiled in return, "Likewise." She peered at his face intently, with occasional glances toward Harry to compare their features. "Remarkable. It's almost like you used polyjuice potion, but it was altered slightly somehow."

Tim asked, "Poly-what?"

"Polyjuice potion," she replied succinctly. "It allows you to take on another's appearance as long as you have the right ingredients, including a bit of who you change into."

"It's also one of the nastiest, vilest tasting things ever," Ron added.

"Speaking from experience then?"

Harry nodded, and added, "We had to use some a couple of years ago to find out something. Long story."

Tim asked, wonderingly, "Anything to do with that Voldemort bloke?"

Ron and Hermione both stared at him, and Ron exclaimed, "You said his name! Only Harry here, and Headmaster Dumbledore say his name. Most are too afraid of him, especially now."

"Why, what's going on now?"

Hermione replied, "Haven't you heard? He's back. Everyone thought he was dead for years, and he..." She trailed off, and her eyes flickered over to Harry guiltily.

Harry sighed, and drew back his sleeve where a sizable scar laid upon his forearm.

Tim somehow knew instantly, "He used your blood?"

He nodded as he lowered the sleeve back over the arm again. "It was part of a resurrection ritual. Partly so he could kill me, and partly so he gained my protection."

"From your mother," Tim said, and then added upon noticing the surprised looks, "I kind of picked up some of that. I saw him. Dealt with some nasty things myself, but not sure what to make of him."

Hermione asked, "Wait, what do you mean, picked up?" She glanced between the three young men, but it was Ron who spoke up.

"Harry and Tim here shook hands, and then they both went into some sort of trance or something. Dunno what it was. They were acting odd afterwards, talking alike and all."

Harry added, "I don't know what it all means either." He frowned, and then remembered something. "Hang on, we saw you. In Diagon Alley. You were leaving Ollivander's."

Tim frowned, "Oh, that wand place you mean? Yeah, not sure how to use it yet."

Ron's jaw dropped, "That was you? And what do you mean you don't know how to use your wand? You just got it?"

Tim nodded, "Yeah, never needed it before." He then grinned a little. This will shock them. He held his hand in front of him, and a small ball of light appeared, hovering over his open palm. He let it go, and it floated in mid-air in front of them before he allowed the energy to dissipate. The three blinked at him.

Hermione then said, "How... You didn't say any words or use your wand, or anything. That shouldn't be possible."

He snorted, "I've been told that a lot of what I do is impossible. Usually after I've done it. I can turn into a bird for you as well, but I'd have to strip first. And since you don't want to see me going starkers, and I don't want tattered clothes, that'll have to wait." Hermione blushed a little, getting a mental image of that. Ron and Harry both had grimaces on their faces from similar mental images.

"You must be as powerful as Dumbledore then. Why are you going to Hogwarts?" Ron asked, still a bit shocked.

"It's not really my power for one. Just using it, and just because I have power, it doesn't mean I know how to use it. Haven't you ever had spells that go wrong?"

The three glanced between them.

Harry was the one to say, "All the time. There's a lot that we don't know."

Tim nodded, "Well, it's the same for me." The other three sat down in the car, and all of them began conversing with one another, sharing stories. Tim, feeling like he was being watched, glanced at the window where a skulking figure was departing down the narrow hallway of the train car.

Elsewhere, in a place not far from where the Riddle House once stood, Voldemort sat upon his throne. He currently had some of his Death Eaters in conference with him.

"Two of them? Did I hear you correctly, worms? Two Potters?"

One of the hooded figures trembled a little as it stepped forward, "Yes, milord. The other one looks almost identical to Potter, but he does not bear your scar. And he is rumored to practice magic without a wand."

"Hmmm... this news intrigues me. Someone with such power should be persuaded, and if not, we will rid them both."

Another figure stepped forward, "Milord, we found someone. Someone who says they know of this other."

"Bring them forward."

A haggard-looking figure stared wild-eyed at his surroundings. His clothes were tattered, and he appeared to have barely survived something very violent. His eyes glanced upward at the serpentine person upon the throne, and cringed a little.

"Well, tell me what you know. Who is this other? Speak, vermin!"

He shivered violently, but could not speak. Voldemort glanced at one of his minions. The Death Eater nodded, and a foot shot out from under his robe, leveling a swift kick to the pitiful creature's spine. It cried out, as it fell to the hard floor. Bruises blossomed on its back, and legs. The wizard's foot struck again, and again, shattering ribs, crushing kneecaps, pulverizing limbs. The being mewled in pain, and the leader held a hand up to pause his follower. Still shaking, and now bleeding from multiple contusions upon its body, it finally stuttered out, "H-Hunter. M-m-Merlin." The Death Eaters gasped, and some backed away at the name.

Voldemort smiled cruelly, "The Merlin. Well, this is an interesting turn of events. Crabbe, Goyle, take that thing out of my sight."

"Yes, milord." They nodded, and grasped the figure roughly before shoving it out of the room before them.

"Malfoy, your son is still at that school, correct?"

"Yes, milord." He replied smoothly.

"Then, I suggest for both your sakes, that he would keep a very close eye on this Hunter. Do you understand?"

He bowed, "I understand, and shall obey, milord." He then backed out of the room, leaving the Dark Lord alone to ponder this new development. Such a being would be a most valuable ally, or else something exceedingly dangerous. Either way, they would be dealt with, and he would be one step closer to his ultimate goal.