Chapter 9: Back to Cause Mayhem
Is there love without hate?
Is there pleasure without pain?
I have seen all my mistakes
-The Calling
Harry had no idea where he would go-what he would do. He couldn't believe he'd actually gone when Dumbledore had asked him to. He shouldn't have put his foot in. Now Remus knew about him. Things could only go downhill.
The sky slowly became lighter and it struck Harry suddenly how weary he felt. He hadn't felt so tired in years. Using such powerful magic as going into another's thoughts and dreams took weeks of preparation for normal people, but Harry had never exactly been normal.
He found a hotel that looked decent without looking great. He had no need of wasting money on anything fancy. He checked in and went straight to bed. He tried to sleep when his younger counterpart did so as not to accidentally slip into each others dreams again.
He awoke late into the day, tossing and turning. The dreams had gotten worse. He didn't know what, but something had changed during the day. Something had popped out of place. He shrugged it off. A lot hadn't happened properly. I've seen to that, he thought bitterly.
He checked out of his hotel and went to find something to eat. The sun had already begun to set. He must have been really wiped out to have slept the whole day through.
He ate a horrible excuse for edible food for dinner (an unusually greasy hamburger from McDonalds). Without meaning to, Harry began to wonder what he would be doing now if he had not passed through the portal. He could at least another Death Eater by now.
He stopped suddenly in his tracks. He had felt a presence behind him. He couldn't distinguish the signature. Only Dumbledore and Voldemort had the power to do such a thing. Dumbledore never hid his signature from him when he visited. It could only mean.
"I know you're there," Harry said calmly. "There is no point hiding."
No answer came. Harry turned toward the direction he knew the person must be when suddenly another thought hit him. If Voldemort wished to remain unseen, he would have simply hidden his trail completely, not just scramble the signature.
The feeling suddenly disappeared. The person must have Apparated.
So there's another player in the game.
* * *
The idea to leave this time had vanished completely from Harry's mind. Something only vaguely familiar about that signature had come to him that Harry hadn't recognized at the time.
Harry's first instinct surprised him seconds after he thought it-Go to Dumbledore. Shaking his head, he prepared to banish such a thought from his head completely when a little voice in his head told him, "He may know what's going on." From that thought, it went straight to, "If he already has control of the situation, then I can go home sooner."
Remembering that he could not Apparate onto the Hogwarts grounds, he concentrated and seconds later he was nothing but a scattered collection of molecules, moving almost as fast as light towards the headmaster's office at Hogwarts. He stopped in midair and felt the molecules rearrange themselves as a body for him with a pop. He had learned long ago that getting out of a place-fast-could keep you alive and letting yourself be limited by mere Apparition proved a fatal mistake. It just hadn't been his life lost that day.
Dumbledore sat in his study and looked up when Harry appeared.
"Good afternoon," he said pleasantly. "You'll be happy to hear that Harry is doing fine-"
"That does not concern me," Harry said sharply.
"Then what is it that brings you to my study?" Dumbledore said, staring at Harry through those crystal blue eyes. Harry did not look away, his emerald green ones reflecting only Dumbledore's own image.
"Who is he?" Harry asked, looking for signs that Dumbledore knew to whom he referring.
"Oh, him?" Dumbledore asked politely. "Well, it's funny you ask. You see, he's a younger form of you. Less than a night ago-"
"I'm not speaking of the boy!" Harry said angrily. "I felt a presence tonight. I simply wondered whether it was one of yours, or perhaps." Harry trailed off.
"One of yours?" Dumbledore persisted.
"Perhaps," Harry said, shrugging.
"He is not one of mine," Dumbledore said with his never-ending honesty. "Though it intrigues me that he should baffle you so much that you turn to your old headmaster."
"He scrambled his signature," Harry said. "And kept it hidden, even when I pressed further. When I questioned him, he remained hidden. If Voldemort did not wish to be seen, I would not have noticed him."
"I see," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "And who is it you think it is?"
"I don't know," Harry said, looking Dumbledore in the eye, wondering, with his constant suspicion, if he concealed information.
"Think now," Dumbledore said. "I know no one and this obviously concerns you. Is there no one who would follow you through the portal?"
"There was no one. The Malfoy alone remained of the Death Eaters, and he had been previously judged unworthy. He could not have gotten through the portal."
"It seems to me that if you ran into a group of Death Eaters-for that is what is generally required to open such a portal-that you would stun a Malfoy first."
Harry opened his mouth to say something, and then it clicked. "I did," he said slowly. "I stunned him right off the bat. My stunners have only one counter curse, known only to me."
"Then how is it this Malfoy is a prime suspect?" Dumbledore pushed.
"Because when I focused my energy upon closing the portal, he stunned me from behind," Harry said, the memories flashing through his head. "He looked different-older perhaps. I thought nothing of it. I thought it had been an oversight. It's happened before. Usually it's someone else who messes up. But I woke up later and when I realized.I didn't think on it again."
"It sounds to me like you're not the only one in your own time," Dumbledore reasoned.
"I've figured that much out without your assistance," Harry snapped. "The future Malfoy from after even my time came backwards through time because he knew I closed the portal and he tried to stop me, but I ended up going through. Then he followed me through."
"Then why didn't he kill you when he saw you unconscious on the ground?" Dumbledore asked.
"Because the portal closes when one person has gone through. It had already begun to come forward in time and Malfoy jumped into a different time than I," Harry said shrugging. "We've only now just caught up with him."
"What do you propose we do?" Dumbledore asked, surveying Harry through those half-moon glasses.
"Nothing," Harry said sharply. "I will deal with him. Keep Harry safe. I'm afraid I will have to beat him down once again."
Dumbledore stood up in alarm as, once again, Harry disappeared from view.
* * *
Harry spent several days Apparating around randomly and catching minimal sleep. People were on his tail now and he couldn't afford another run in. He had to find Malfoy soon and there wasn't time to waste on the pitiful efforts Voldemort's supporters always seemed to give. Their presence proved more of an annoyance than an actual threat.
A few days later Harry found himself in Diagon Alley.
Instantly he pulled his hood down over his face. He had been careless to let it slip. He set his footsteps toward Flourish and Blotts. He sincerely hoped it remained open. Looking around the mostly deserted street, he saw that most shops had closed down completely. The few people on the streets skirted around him, afraid. He dressed different-hidden in a cloak. He had something to hide and they knew it.
Harry ignored them and found the store still open. The sign on the outside proclaimed grandly,
Closing Sale! All books 80-90% off!
Harry pushed open the doors and instantly greeted by a nervous looking sales witch.
"Can I help you?"
Blinking, Harry recognized her as the same witch that had helped him last time. "I need a book," Harry said.
"You've come to the right place!" the woman said in an obviously attempted cheerful voice. "We have everything from The Dark Arts: A Guide to Self Protection to The Invisible Book of Invisibility!"
"Those hold no interest for me," Harry said dismissively. "I'm trying to locate someone."
"I know exactly what you need," the woman said instantly. She hurried away and immediately reappeared before him, holding a book. "It a bestseller," she said brightly.
"I can imagine," Harry said. A small smile flitted across his face. In all the horrors that happened around them, people still had to make a living. "How much is it?"
"Only a Sickle!" the woman said brightly.
Harry fished into his pocket and produced only a few Knuts. "Just a minute," he muttered. Flicking his hand, he summoned from his Gringotts account and a silver Sickle instantly appeared in his open palm.
The woman blinked. "Wait, I know you."
"As do I," said a soft voice from behind him. Harry whirled around, his cloak billowing in a wide arch. No one.
"Go," Harry hissed to the saleswoman. "They have found me. Go home and don't come back. Diagon Alley is no longer safe."
The saleswoman looked terrified at the effect her mere statement seemed to have made.
"Don't you see?" Harry hissed. "The Death Eaters are here! Do you want to die or don't you?"
"Do you want to die or don't you?" Echoed that soft voice in his ear. Ignoring the woman who had still not Apparated, he turned on his heal, leaving the book on the counter and hurried into the street.
"I'm here, Malfoy," he said angrily. "Do you want to avenge your dead father? He's not dead in this time, you know. Or perhaps you've already seen him. He's probably earned himself a permanent place at St. Mungo's. They're trying to get his memory back, you know. It's going to be hard, however, since I have it trapped." He reached into his pocket and drew forth the small glass ball in which the swirling white mist did not glow.
He tossed it into the air casually and then stuffed it back into his pocket. "Come on, Malfoy. I know you're there. Are you still afraid of me, Malfoy? Even after all those years? Maybe Azkaban still has the ability to drive people insane, even without the use of Dementors!"
The presence appeared behind him. Harry whirled around. Nothing. The whispering voice echoed back in his ear. "Mentally insane, am I? Then why can't you find me, Potter? Am I just a little too hard to.catch?"
The presence was in a different direction. Harry whirled again. "Hard?" Harry asked, laughing, while at the same time searching for the true presence. "You're like a cold, Malfoy! You're harder to lose!"
With the last word he blasted apart an innocent trashcan from which he had previously sensed the presence.
"Hard to lose, am I?" came the mocking whisper. "Like a cold, did you say? And all this time I thought you were the cold, unfeeling one."
"Don't forget it," Harry said, smirking.
"I haven't forgotten a thing," Draco Malfoy's voice whispered. "But you seem to have forgotten where I am! Why else would you be searching so hard?"
"You're just not very memorable," Harry said, whirling around as the presence shifted to the book store.
"And you're forgetting something else," Malfoy said. Harry could just imagine that annoying little smirk plastered across his face.
"What's that?" Harry asked.
There was a scream from the store. Harry's heart skipped a beat. The woman from the store. She hadn't Apparated!
He raced into the store in time to see the woman's dead body drop to the ground, a look of pain and terror plastered firmly on her face. An entire life had been wiped out. All dreams that the woman had held, and family she might have had left.gone. In the flick of a Death Eater's wand.
An ice cube seemed to have frozen in his stomach. "No," he whispered. Looking up to the arch about the cash register, Harry saw Draco Malfoy standing there. Harry raised his hand but the next second Malfoy winked and disappeared.
As if determined to have the last word, Harry heard the whispered voice say, "Scared, Potter?" Harry didn't give him the dignity of an answer.
* * *
The Magical Law Enforcement had come later. Harry had watched it all with a long forgotten feeling of failure. He hadn't felt that way for years. He hadn't really paid attention when the Muggle woman died.
Harry walked down a packed Muggle street scowling. It shouldn't be packed. All the Muggles should be hiding in their little holes from the evil wizards that are always out to get them. They should know by now.
Hey, Harry thought sarcastically to himself. If the world ends, I can always blame it on Malfoy.
"Look at that man, Mummy!" cried a little boy in delight. "He's wearing a dress!"
"That's just a long coat, dear," said the mother hurriedly. "It's impolite to point."
Harry had flinched when he'd heard the voice but forced himself not to draw to the side. They had no idea of the world going on around them.
But they should, Harry reminded himself.
He suddenly stopped. He knew what he had to do. He had to stop Malfoy before he changed time. He had changed it unintentionally-imagine what Malfoy could do if he tried!
He's also more powerful, Harry thought grimly. He's never been able to scramble his signature from me like that before.
Harry knew Malfoy to be smarter than he looked-not that that said much. He would not come to him again. He had appeared the first time because he didn't know he, Harry existed in this time. He appeared the second time because he wanted to see what he had to go against. Now he knew. He had no reason to want to return.other than revenge.
Harry shook his head. It wasn't like Malfoy to risk it all like that. He had come back for a reason and it had nothing to do with Harry.
He's going to help the Dark Lord rise again, Harry realized. But of course that's what he's going to try. I stopped him the first time, and then the future Malfoy decided to try again.
Harry had not paid attention to where he went and consequently found himself lost. Cursing under his breath, he looked around.
He instantly recognized his surroundings. that stupid telephone that got you into the Ministry of Magic. He walked up to it. It looked just like he remembered it. It had been destroyed shortly after Dumbledore's death along with the rest of the Ministry of Magic.
He hesitated a minute. He could find no reason to go back to that Ministry. It had only screwed things up. If not for that stupid Ministry, Sirius might still have been alive.
Harry blinked. He hadn't meant to think that. It had slipped in. He shook his head. He couldn't let himself think things like that. He had enough to think about. Without thinking, he reached for the receiver and dialed the numbers to spell out the word 'magic'. The woman's voice came from no where.
"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."
This is a stupid idea, Harry thought. Out loud he said, "Phineas Nigellus, visitor."
"Thank you," said the woman's voice. "Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of you robes."
Harry took the badge and stuffed it into his pocket. The woman was talking again but Harry occupied himself with ignoring her.
When the box finally came to a stop, Harry stepped out and looked moodily around. He might as well start here.
Without submitting his wand to a check, he headed straight to the Ministry. He passed by the magically repaired Fountain of Magical Brethren. It didn't look quite the same. It probably could never fully recover from the killing curse.
He reached the elevator and stepped inside. Harry planned to head straight down to the Department of Mysteries. When he reached the second floor, the elevator door opened to reveal a young man who looked older due to tired lines that lined a face framed with prematurely graying hair. He looked over his shoulder when he entered the elevator and he scowled. Harry shrank into the shadows.
"Perhaps next time I'll announce my visit a few months prior so you can take appropriate precautions," Lupin said in his soft, yet nonetheless menacing, voice.
The elevator doors closed and Harry fully intended to stay hidden in the shadows but suddenly Lupin turned and stared at him.
"I'm sorry about that! I didn't see you-" Lupin stopped his eyes narrowed. "Where are you? I know you're there."
Harry mentally berated himself. He had forgotten about Lupin's heightened werewolf senses. He stepped out of the shadows.
"It's you," Remus said. His expression did not show anger or surprise. "I suppose you're here to see if the rumors are true."
"No," Harry said harshly. "I don't listen to such things. I am here tracking an old friend of mine."
"Ah," Remus said nodding. "Mr. Malfoy Jr."
Harry opened his mouth to say something but at that moment the door of the elevator opened and a person made to step in. After Harry waved his hand irritably, the person stopped, blinked, and left quickly.
"What did you do?" Remus asked suspiciously.
"Repelling charm," Harry said, annoyed. "Not that it really matters to you."
Lupin frowned.
"How did you know about Draco?" Harry asked.
"Dumbledore told me.before." Lupin stopped and shook his head.
"Before what?" Harry asked, not really caring, but something in him telling him to be polite.
"What do you mean?" Lupin asked sharply.
"You said 'before.' and never finished," Harry said, annoyed. "You never finished your sentence."
"You don't know?" Lupin asked blankly. "I thought you'd be the first, seeing as how it's already happened in your time."
It dawned on Harry and he felt a horrible sick feeling in him that he couldn't believe. Dumbledore was dead.
"So," Lupin said, seeing only Harry's calm exterior and not that horrible tumult inside him. "What do we do for the funeral?"
"I'm really not the one you should be asking that," Harry said, his voice rather hollow to the keen ear. Remus's keen hearing picked it up.
"But surely you expected this," he said blankly. "I mean, you're from the future. You have seen everything happen."
"I have," Harry said. "But now that I'm here, I'm changing everything-just my being here. It's quite unintentional, of course, but Dumbledore died before I got sick in my time."
"Oh," Lupin said. Silence filled the room. The elevator door opened again and the people waiting for it suddenly blinked and turned to leave.
"I never went to the funeral, anyway," Harry said. "I've never been to a funeral in my life. They held most of the funerals after Voldemort's defeat. I decided them to be just a way to dwell on the past and I knew that I could never dwell on the past-not my past. So I didn't go."
"That's horrible!" Lupin said. He looked almost horrified. "Funerals are saying a final farewell to those whom you loved! They're not dwelling on the past! They're letting you turn toward the future!"
"Perhaps from your point of view," Harry said softly. He no longer existed entirely in that elevator. His eyes saw only the past-things he had tried so hard to push out of his memory forever. "But for me it is just a reminder of how horribly I had failed."
"I suppose that means I'm destined to die, does it?"
"No," Harry said. He held out his wrist where the horrible cobra seemed to hiss at all who looked upon it. "Harry was destined to have this scar. Look how that turned out."
"So the future has changed," Lupin said. "You said that much yourself. But it seems to me that every change thus far has been for the better-and you've done everything unintentionally! Imagine how much good you could do here!"
"You must be joking," Harry scowled. "I can't defeat Voldemort a second time. Harry must do this alone. The more everything changes for 'the better', the less of a chance Harry has of winning. That horrible feeling inside of me-that complete and total loss-the certainty that there nothing left to live for but the exacted revenge for every individual that had died at the hands of the murderer in front of me, that feeling blocked out dozens of Cruciatus curses. That pain gave me strength. Harry has none of that. All he has is the horrible pain that Dumbledore and Sirius have placed upon him. That empty hole that can never be filled. But it won't be enough-not when the final battle comes."
"I don't think should matter how many people die," Lupin said. "Harry knows that we are always behind him."
"Ah," Harry said with a sarcastic smile. "But Dumbledore has already deserted him and he has already murdered Sirius."
"That's not true!" Lupin snarled.
"It doesn't matter if it's true," Harry smirked. "It only matters what Harry thinks and believes. Truth has nothing to do with power-and it isn't truth that saved me in that final battle. It was pain. Far too much pain. Not everything is completely bad. No one likes pain, but it does have it uses."
"I never thought those words would leave your mouth," Lupin said grimly. "Pain is pain. It is nothing more."
"Open your eyes, old man!" Harry hissed. "You're confusing me with that small boy you hold so close! I can never be that boy! I have lost too much! He will loose too much! You see no innocence in those eyes now? You see nothing in mine. Voldemort and Dumbledore both could try for weeks and never get past the barriers I have perfected to keep me safe! Dumbledore's emotion crap is nothing to me! Emotions make you weak. I have pushed mine away-and I am yet undefeated."
"Ah, but you're wrong," Lupin said. "Voldemort has defeated you. Not in this time-in your own time. Voldemort is dead and you yet live, but you're not alive, not really. You're half alive. Breathing? Yes. Living? No."
The elevator opened again and Lupin stepped out. With a scowl, Harry went back into the shadows of the elevator and waited again for it to reach the lowest level.
Is there love without hate?
Is there pleasure without pain?
I have seen all my mistakes
-The Calling
Harry had no idea where he would go-what he would do. He couldn't believe he'd actually gone when Dumbledore had asked him to. He shouldn't have put his foot in. Now Remus knew about him. Things could only go downhill.
The sky slowly became lighter and it struck Harry suddenly how weary he felt. He hadn't felt so tired in years. Using such powerful magic as going into another's thoughts and dreams took weeks of preparation for normal people, but Harry had never exactly been normal.
He found a hotel that looked decent without looking great. He had no need of wasting money on anything fancy. He checked in and went straight to bed. He tried to sleep when his younger counterpart did so as not to accidentally slip into each others dreams again.
He awoke late into the day, tossing and turning. The dreams had gotten worse. He didn't know what, but something had changed during the day. Something had popped out of place. He shrugged it off. A lot hadn't happened properly. I've seen to that, he thought bitterly.
He checked out of his hotel and went to find something to eat. The sun had already begun to set. He must have been really wiped out to have slept the whole day through.
He ate a horrible excuse for edible food for dinner (an unusually greasy hamburger from McDonalds). Without meaning to, Harry began to wonder what he would be doing now if he had not passed through the portal. He could at least another Death Eater by now.
He stopped suddenly in his tracks. He had felt a presence behind him. He couldn't distinguish the signature. Only Dumbledore and Voldemort had the power to do such a thing. Dumbledore never hid his signature from him when he visited. It could only mean.
"I know you're there," Harry said calmly. "There is no point hiding."
No answer came. Harry turned toward the direction he knew the person must be when suddenly another thought hit him. If Voldemort wished to remain unseen, he would have simply hidden his trail completely, not just scramble the signature.
The feeling suddenly disappeared. The person must have Apparated.
So there's another player in the game.
* * *
The idea to leave this time had vanished completely from Harry's mind. Something only vaguely familiar about that signature had come to him that Harry hadn't recognized at the time.
Harry's first instinct surprised him seconds after he thought it-Go to Dumbledore. Shaking his head, he prepared to banish such a thought from his head completely when a little voice in his head told him, "He may know what's going on." From that thought, it went straight to, "If he already has control of the situation, then I can go home sooner."
Remembering that he could not Apparate onto the Hogwarts grounds, he concentrated and seconds later he was nothing but a scattered collection of molecules, moving almost as fast as light towards the headmaster's office at Hogwarts. He stopped in midair and felt the molecules rearrange themselves as a body for him with a pop. He had learned long ago that getting out of a place-fast-could keep you alive and letting yourself be limited by mere Apparition proved a fatal mistake. It just hadn't been his life lost that day.
Dumbledore sat in his study and looked up when Harry appeared.
"Good afternoon," he said pleasantly. "You'll be happy to hear that Harry is doing fine-"
"That does not concern me," Harry said sharply.
"Then what is it that brings you to my study?" Dumbledore said, staring at Harry through those crystal blue eyes. Harry did not look away, his emerald green ones reflecting only Dumbledore's own image.
"Who is he?" Harry asked, looking for signs that Dumbledore knew to whom he referring.
"Oh, him?" Dumbledore asked politely. "Well, it's funny you ask. You see, he's a younger form of you. Less than a night ago-"
"I'm not speaking of the boy!" Harry said angrily. "I felt a presence tonight. I simply wondered whether it was one of yours, or perhaps." Harry trailed off.
"One of yours?" Dumbledore persisted.
"Perhaps," Harry said, shrugging.
"He is not one of mine," Dumbledore said with his never-ending honesty. "Though it intrigues me that he should baffle you so much that you turn to your old headmaster."
"He scrambled his signature," Harry said. "And kept it hidden, even when I pressed further. When I questioned him, he remained hidden. If Voldemort did not wish to be seen, I would not have noticed him."
"I see," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "And who is it you think it is?"
"I don't know," Harry said, looking Dumbledore in the eye, wondering, with his constant suspicion, if he concealed information.
"Think now," Dumbledore said. "I know no one and this obviously concerns you. Is there no one who would follow you through the portal?"
"There was no one. The Malfoy alone remained of the Death Eaters, and he had been previously judged unworthy. He could not have gotten through the portal."
"It seems to me that if you ran into a group of Death Eaters-for that is what is generally required to open such a portal-that you would stun a Malfoy first."
Harry opened his mouth to say something, and then it clicked. "I did," he said slowly. "I stunned him right off the bat. My stunners have only one counter curse, known only to me."
"Then how is it this Malfoy is a prime suspect?" Dumbledore pushed.
"Because when I focused my energy upon closing the portal, he stunned me from behind," Harry said, the memories flashing through his head. "He looked different-older perhaps. I thought nothing of it. I thought it had been an oversight. It's happened before. Usually it's someone else who messes up. But I woke up later and when I realized.I didn't think on it again."
"It sounds to me like you're not the only one in your own time," Dumbledore reasoned.
"I've figured that much out without your assistance," Harry snapped. "The future Malfoy from after even my time came backwards through time because he knew I closed the portal and he tried to stop me, but I ended up going through. Then he followed me through."
"Then why didn't he kill you when he saw you unconscious on the ground?" Dumbledore asked.
"Because the portal closes when one person has gone through. It had already begun to come forward in time and Malfoy jumped into a different time than I," Harry said shrugging. "We've only now just caught up with him."
"What do you propose we do?" Dumbledore asked, surveying Harry through those half-moon glasses.
"Nothing," Harry said sharply. "I will deal with him. Keep Harry safe. I'm afraid I will have to beat him down once again."
Dumbledore stood up in alarm as, once again, Harry disappeared from view.
* * *
Harry spent several days Apparating around randomly and catching minimal sleep. People were on his tail now and he couldn't afford another run in. He had to find Malfoy soon and there wasn't time to waste on the pitiful efforts Voldemort's supporters always seemed to give. Their presence proved more of an annoyance than an actual threat.
A few days later Harry found himself in Diagon Alley.
Instantly he pulled his hood down over his face. He had been careless to let it slip. He set his footsteps toward Flourish and Blotts. He sincerely hoped it remained open. Looking around the mostly deserted street, he saw that most shops had closed down completely. The few people on the streets skirted around him, afraid. He dressed different-hidden in a cloak. He had something to hide and they knew it.
Harry ignored them and found the store still open. The sign on the outside proclaimed grandly,
Closing Sale! All books 80-90% off!
Harry pushed open the doors and instantly greeted by a nervous looking sales witch.
"Can I help you?"
Blinking, Harry recognized her as the same witch that had helped him last time. "I need a book," Harry said.
"You've come to the right place!" the woman said in an obviously attempted cheerful voice. "We have everything from The Dark Arts: A Guide to Self Protection to The Invisible Book of Invisibility!"
"Those hold no interest for me," Harry said dismissively. "I'm trying to locate someone."
"I know exactly what you need," the woman said instantly. She hurried away and immediately reappeared before him, holding a book. "It a bestseller," she said brightly.
"I can imagine," Harry said. A small smile flitted across his face. In all the horrors that happened around them, people still had to make a living. "How much is it?"
"Only a Sickle!" the woman said brightly.
Harry fished into his pocket and produced only a few Knuts. "Just a minute," he muttered. Flicking his hand, he summoned from his Gringotts account and a silver Sickle instantly appeared in his open palm.
The woman blinked. "Wait, I know you."
"As do I," said a soft voice from behind him. Harry whirled around, his cloak billowing in a wide arch. No one.
"Go," Harry hissed to the saleswoman. "They have found me. Go home and don't come back. Diagon Alley is no longer safe."
The saleswoman looked terrified at the effect her mere statement seemed to have made.
"Don't you see?" Harry hissed. "The Death Eaters are here! Do you want to die or don't you?"
"Do you want to die or don't you?" Echoed that soft voice in his ear. Ignoring the woman who had still not Apparated, he turned on his heal, leaving the book on the counter and hurried into the street.
"I'm here, Malfoy," he said angrily. "Do you want to avenge your dead father? He's not dead in this time, you know. Or perhaps you've already seen him. He's probably earned himself a permanent place at St. Mungo's. They're trying to get his memory back, you know. It's going to be hard, however, since I have it trapped." He reached into his pocket and drew forth the small glass ball in which the swirling white mist did not glow.
He tossed it into the air casually and then stuffed it back into his pocket. "Come on, Malfoy. I know you're there. Are you still afraid of me, Malfoy? Even after all those years? Maybe Azkaban still has the ability to drive people insane, even without the use of Dementors!"
The presence appeared behind him. Harry whirled around. Nothing. The whispering voice echoed back in his ear. "Mentally insane, am I? Then why can't you find me, Potter? Am I just a little too hard to.catch?"
The presence was in a different direction. Harry whirled again. "Hard?" Harry asked, laughing, while at the same time searching for the true presence. "You're like a cold, Malfoy! You're harder to lose!"
With the last word he blasted apart an innocent trashcan from which he had previously sensed the presence.
"Hard to lose, am I?" came the mocking whisper. "Like a cold, did you say? And all this time I thought you were the cold, unfeeling one."
"Don't forget it," Harry said, smirking.
"I haven't forgotten a thing," Draco Malfoy's voice whispered. "But you seem to have forgotten where I am! Why else would you be searching so hard?"
"You're just not very memorable," Harry said, whirling around as the presence shifted to the book store.
"And you're forgetting something else," Malfoy said. Harry could just imagine that annoying little smirk plastered across his face.
"What's that?" Harry asked.
There was a scream from the store. Harry's heart skipped a beat. The woman from the store. She hadn't Apparated!
He raced into the store in time to see the woman's dead body drop to the ground, a look of pain and terror plastered firmly on her face. An entire life had been wiped out. All dreams that the woman had held, and family she might have had left.gone. In the flick of a Death Eater's wand.
An ice cube seemed to have frozen in his stomach. "No," he whispered. Looking up to the arch about the cash register, Harry saw Draco Malfoy standing there. Harry raised his hand but the next second Malfoy winked and disappeared.
As if determined to have the last word, Harry heard the whispered voice say, "Scared, Potter?" Harry didn't give him the dignity of an answer.
* * *
The Magical Law Enforcement had come later. Harry had watched it all with a long forgotten feeling of failure. He hadn't felt that way for years. He hadn't really paid attention when the Muggle woman died.
Harry walked down a packed Muggle street scowling. It shouldn't be packed. All the Muggles should be hiding in their little holes from the evil wizards that are always out to get them. They should know by now.
Hey, Harry thought sarcastically to himself. If the world ends, I can always blame it on Malfoy.
"Look at that man, Mummy!" cried a little boy in delight. "He's wearing a dress!"
"That's just a long coat, dear," said the mother hurriedly. "It's impolite to point."
Harry had flinched when he'd heard the voice but forced himself not to draw to the side. They had no idea of the world going on around them.
But they should, Harry reminded himself.
He suddenly stopped. He knew what he had to do. He had to stop Malfoy before he changed time. He had changed it unintentionally-imagine what Malfoy could do if he tried!
He's also more powerful, Harry thought grimly. He's never been able to scramble his signature from me like that before.
Harry knew Malfoy to be smarter than he looked-not that that said much. He would not come to him again. He had appeared the first time because he didn't know he, Harry existed in this time. He appeared the second time because he wanted to see what he had to go against. Now he knew. He had no reason to want to return.other than revenge.
Harry shook his head. It wasn't like Malfoy to risk it all like that. He had come back for a reason and it had nothing to do with Harry.
He's going to help the Dark Lord rise again, Harry realized. But of course that's what he's going to try. I stopped him the first time, and then the future Malfoy decided to try again.
Harry had not paid attention to where he went and consequently found himself lost. Cursing under his breath, he looked around.
He instantly recognized his surroundings. that stupid telephone that got you into the Ministry of Magic. He walked up to it. It looked just like he remembered it. It had been destroyed shortly after Dumbledore's death along with the rest of the Ministry of Magic.
He hesitated a minute. He could find no reason to go back to that Ministry. It had only screwed things up. If not for that stupid Ministry, Sirius might still have been alive.
Harry blinked. He hadn't meant to think that. It had slipped in. He shook his head. He couldn't let himself think things like that. He had enough to think about. Without thinking, he reached for the receiver and dialed the numbers to spell out the word 'magic'. The woman's voice came from no where.
"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."
This is a stupid idea, Harry thought. Out loud he said, "Phineas Nigellus, visitor."
"Thank you," said the woman's voice. "Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of you robes."
Harry took the badge and stuffed it into his pocket. The woman was talking again but Harry occupied himself with ignoring her.
When the box finally came to a stop, Harry stepped out and looked moodily around. He might as well start here.
Without submitting his wand to a check, he headed straight to the Ministry. He passed by the magically repaired Fountain of Magical Brethren. It didn't look quite the same. It probably could never fully recover from the killing curse.
He reached the elevator and stepped inside. Harry planned to head straight down to the Department of Mysteries. When he reached the second floor, the elevator door opened to reveal a young man who looked older due to tired lines that lined a face framed with prematurely graying hair. He looked over his shoulder when he entered the elevator and he scowled. Harry shrank into the shadows.
"Perhaps next time I'll announce my visit a few months prior so you can take appropriate precautions," Lupin said in his soft, yet nonetheless menacing, voice.
The elevator doors closed and Harry fully intended to stay hidden in the shadows but suddenly Lupin turned and stared at him.
"I'm sorry about that! I didn't see you-" Lupin stopped his eyes narrowed. "Where are you? I know you're there."
Harry mentally berated himself. He had forgotten about Lupin's heightened werewolf senses. He stepped out of the shadows.
"It's you," Remus said. His expression did not show anger or surprise. "I suppose you're here to see if the rumors are true."
"No," Harry said harshly. "I don't listen to such things. I am here tracking an old friend of mine."
"Ah," Remus said nodding. "Mr. Malfoy Jr."
Harry opened his mouth to say something but at that moment the door of the elevator opened and a person made to step in. After Harry waved his hand irritably, the person stopped, blinked, and left quickly.
"What did you do?" Remus asked suspiciously.
"Repelling charm," Harry said, annoyed. "Not that it really matters to you."
Lupin frowned.
"How did you know about Draco?" Harry asked.
"Dumbledore told me.before." Lupin stopped and shook his head.
"Before what?" Harry asked, not really caring, but something in him telling him to be polite.
"What do you mean?" Lupin asked sharply.
"You said 'before.' and never finished," Harry said, annoyed. "You never finished your sentence."
"You don't know?" Lupin asked blankly. "I thought you'd be the first, seeing as how it's already happened in your time."
It dawned on Harry and he felt a horrible sick feeling in him that he couldn't believe. Dumbledore was dead.
"So," Lupin said, seeing only Harry's calm exterior and not that horrible tumult inside him. "What do we do for the funeral?"
"I'm really not the one you should be asking that," Harry said, his voice rather hollow to the keen ear. Remus's keen hearing picked it up.
"But surely you expected this," he said blankly. "I mean, you're from the future. You have seen everything happen."
"I have," Harry said. "But now that I'm here, I'm changing everything-just my being here. It's quite unintentional, of course, but Dumbledore died before I got sick in my time."
"Oh," Lupin said. Silence filled the room. The elevator door opened again and the people waiting for it suddenly blinked and turned to leave.
"I never went to the funeral, anyway," Harry said. "I've never been to a funeral in my life. They held most of the funerals after Voldemort's defeat. I decided them to be just a way to dwell on the past and I knew that I could never dwell on the past-not my past. So I didn't go."
"That's horrible!" Lupin said. He looked almost horrified. "Funerals are saying a final farewell to those whom you loved! They're not dwelling on the past! They're letting you turn toward the future!"
"Perhaps from your point of view," Harry said softly. He no longer existed entirely in that elevator. His eyes saw only the past-things he had tried so hard to push out of his memory forever. "But for me it is just a reminder of how horribly I had failed."
"I suppose that means I'm destined to die, does it?"
"No," Harry said. He held out his wrist where the horrible cobra seemed to hiss at all who looked upon it. "Harry was destined to have this scar. Look how that turned out."
"So the future has changed," Lupin said. "You said that much yourself. But it seems to me that every change thus far has been for the better-and you've done everything unintentionally! Imagine how much good you could do here!"
"You must be joking," Harry scowled. "I can't defeat Voldemort a second time. Harry must do this alone. The more everything changes for 'the better', the less of a chance Harry has of winning. That horrible feeling inside of me-that complete and total loss-the certainty that there nothing left to live for but the exacted revenge for every individual that had died at the hands of the murderer in front of me, that feeling blocked out dozens of Cruciatus curses. That pain gave me strength. Harry has none of that. All he has is the horrible pain that Dumbledore and Sirius have placed upon him. That empty hole that can never be filled. But it won't be enough-not when the final battle comes."
"I don't think should matter how many people die," Lupin said. "Harry knows that we are always behind him."
"Ah," Harry said with a sarcastic smile. "But Dumbledore has already deserted him and he has already murdered Sirius."
"That's not true!" Lupin snarled.
"It doesn't matter if it's true," Harry smirked. "It only matters what Harry thinks and believes. Truth has nothing to do with power-and it isn't truth that saved me in that final battle. It was pain. Far too much pain. Not everything is completely bad. No one likes pain, but it does have it uses."
"I never thought those words would leave your mouth," Lupin said grimly. "Pain is pain. It is nothing more."
"Open your eyes, old man!" Harry hissed. "You're confusing me with that small boy you hold so close! I can never be that boy! I have lost too much! He will loose too much! You see no innocence in those eyes now? You see nothing in mine. Voldemort and Dumbledore both could try for weeks and never get past the barriers I have perfected to keep me safe! Dumbledore's emotion crap is nothing to me! Emotions make you weak. I have pushed mine away-and I am yet undefeated."
"Ah, but you're wrong," Lupin said. "Voldemort has defeated you. Not in this time-in your own time. Voldemort is dead and you yet live, but you're not alive, not really. You're half alive. Breathing? Yes. Living? No."
The elevator opened again and Lupin stepped out. With a scowl, Harry went back into the shadows of the elevator and waited again for it to reach the lowest level.