(Author's Thanks: Myk, izean, switchknife, Stephanie, Akurei, and npetrenko for reviewing.

Disclaimers: All characters in the story belong to J.K. Rowling.

Warnings: This story will eventually be slash. If you are against homosexual relationships, please do not read this story. Any furious rant against slash in a review will be mocked. Thank you.

~Cinaed)

Nest of the Phoenix

By Cinaed, Born of Fire

Chapter Six

"Hello, Tom!" Severus Snape's cheerful voice seemed odd to Harry's ears. When had the Potions professor sounded so blithe in his own universe? "Bill and I thought we'd pick you up on the way to class." As the brunet snuck a glance at Snape, he couldn't help but stare at the jet-black locks, which fell in silky, attractive waves to the man's shoulders. What a difference! Nor was his face sallow or unsightly. Instead, he actually had a tan! A light one, but a tan nonetheless, and the broad smile on his thin lips complimented his handsome features.

"Really? Is it already time for class?" Tom's surprised words filled Harry's ears, and he ducked his head so that no one would notice him gawking at the professor. "I thought I had a few more minutes to talk to Harry."

"Ah, the infamous Harry Mason!" There was the suggestion of a chuckle in Snape's good-natured tone. "The headmaster has been warning us about you. I'm Professor Snape."

Harry felt his lips curving into a half-hearted smirk at the professor's words as he glanced at the altered man. "Well, sir, I'm /not/ that bad unless I don't like you," he informed Snape, his tone as innocent as he could manage.

Snape laughed quietly and then extended his hand. "I'll have to remember that, Harry."

The professor's hand was surprisingly soft, and Harry found himself grinning without any force at the gesture. "Please do, sir." He raised an eyebrow in Bill's direction, feigning bemusement. "I'm assuming you're a Weasley? I can't remember your name, though Ron mentioned it."

"I'm Bill Weasley." The oldest of the Weasley brood's hand was just as firm and soft as Snape's when Harry discovered himself in another grip. "You've already met Ron? Enthusiastic bugger, isn't he?"

"Definitely," the Boy Who Lived agreed, a grin on his face. "I don't think I'll be able to keep track of all the names he kept going on about." That was a total lie, but hey, Bill and Snape didn't have to know that.

"He told you about the relationships, right?" Snape's mild inquiry caught him off-guard, and the brunet felt his face warm as all the blood rushed to his head.

"Yeah, you know Ron, Severus." Harry turned a grateful smile upon Tom as the former attempted to force the blood from his burning cheeks. "He'll ramble on and on about true love if you get him going."

"Yes, I know Ron," Bill agreed with a chuckle, draping an arm around Snape's neck and grinning at the two students. "I hope you don't mind, Harry."

"Somehow, I get the feeling I'll have to get used to it," commented the Potter, deadpan.

The two adults laughed, and Tom grinned. "Well, it was nice talking to you, Harry. I'll come and visit you between classes, if you'd like. Maybe that'll keep you from killing Madam Pomfrey."

"I'm not promising anything," Harry declared, frowning a little. "If that woman tries to drug me /one/ more time...." He ignored Bill and Snape's raised eyebrows.

Tom looked amused, and shook his head. "Just as long as it's in self- defense, I suppose," he stated before turning towards the two adults. "Are we learning anything interesting?" Even as he spoke, the brunet climbed from the bed, revealing that he'd been fully dressed.

Intense green eyes watched the trio as they exited the infirmary, chatting about an unfamiliar potion, and left him all alone in the Hospital Wing. Biting back a sigh, Harry attempted to relax. Well, at least he wasn't going to be thrown into a class today. He didn't think he could handle anything academics-wise.

The boy suddenly frowned. Wait, would he have to do the whole bloody Sorting over again in front of /everyone/? He shuddered a little, wondering what this universe's Sorting Hat would think of him. Somehow, he didn't feel he wanted to know.

Hauling himself to his feet, Harry glanced around. Pomfrey was nowhere in sight. Well, that meant he could wander around, didn't it. Smirking slightly, the brunet proceeded to stroll out of the Hospital Wing. Bill, Snape, and Tom were nowhere in sight, and he began to whistle to himself as he sauntered down the hall.

Everyone would be in their various classes, he assured himself, letting his wand dangle at his side. No one would see him wandering around in his Muggle clothing. And even if a random student popped up, he figured he could wiggle out of trouble. After all, Pomfrey /never/ said he couldn't leave the Hospital Wing.

Harry knew there was a smug look on his face as he sauntered down the hallway, but he couldn't help it. This world's Pomfrey annoyed him to no end, and it was fun to sneak out under her watch. Whistling a random tune, he turned the corner—

—and slammed into a large, warm shape. With a startled oath, Harry stumbled backwards, barely managing to catch himself in time. As it was, his wand clattered to the ground. Ignoring the man he'd just bumped into, he glared down at his wand. "I really need to get my reflexes back," the Boy Who Lived muttered even while he knelt and snatched the smooth wand from the floor.

"May we assume that you're Harry Mason?" Harry froze. The rich, drawling tenor could belong to no one else but Mr. Malfoy, which meant that his father was somewhere close by.

'This world's James Potter doesn't have a son!' he reminded himself silently even while he put on a complacent smirk and raised his gaze to meet pale gray. "Since I'm probably the only one here wearing Muggle clothing, I would hope you'd guess I'm Harry Mason, Mr. Malfoy."

Lucius Malfoy smiled back, looking amused. He was unchanged for the most part, although the aura around him had shifted from unapproachable to pleasant. The harshness had faded from his handsome face. "You've met my son then?" A hint of pride colored his words, and a foreign chuckle filled the air.

"Lucius, you'd describe your son's attributes to a Boggart!" Harry's breath caught in his throat, and he turned his head slowly towards the other man, who he hadn't seen earlier.

"Really, James, I wouldn't go that far. Besides, you show Tom off every chance you get," the blonde sniffed at his lover, a faint smile curving his lips.

"Too true," admitted the Potter with a loud, mirth-filled laugh that made the Boy Who Lived want to rush forward and fling his arms around his fellow brunet. This was the man he had seen in the Mirror of Erised, with his glasses sliding down his nose. Sepia eyes rested upon the younger Potter even while Harry fought down the temptation. "Have you met Tom and Draco?"

"Well, this one guy—Ron—he pointed Draco out in a crowd, and I chatted with Tom for a while when I woke up from another one of Pomfrey's damned drugging," the brunet explained, shrugging a little. "You look a lot like Tom, sir, and Mr. Malfoy looks like an older clone of M-Draco."

"Clone?" Lucius' tone was pleasant, if bewildered.

"A Muggle term, which means you look exactly like your son," James explained, chuckling once more. "Really, Lucius, you need to learn Muggle sayings. It will help you out some day."

The blonde rolled his eyes and draped an arm across the other man's shoulders. "I'll do that later...." As the insincere mutter trailed off, Harry smirked. Well, he couldn't blame the Malfoy. Muggle sayings were a bit bizarre.

Twirling his wand between his fingers, he decided to make his escape. "Well, if you all don't mind, I'm going to investigate the rest of Hogwarts," he drawled, smirking slightly at the duo.

James arched an eyebrow, still looking entertained. Harry fought against the lump that had appeared suddenly in his throat, and forced the smirk to remain on his visage. "Does Pomfrey know you're out of the Wing?"

"No, and I hope that bitch has a heart attack when she finds out about it." Harry blinked, wondering at the bitterness that coated his words. Both adults looked slightly taken aback as well. "Er, sorry. She keeps drugging my bloody food...."

Lucius' face cleared and he smiled. "Oh yes, I heard about that. We came into the infirmary right after Poppy drugged you again."

"Ron wasn't amused," James added thoughtfully. "I think you're one of the only people who will listen to him when he rants." The blonde beside him nodded in agreement.

"Well, he only ranted about true love, but the rest of the time he was just pointing out-" Damn him and his pale skin! He knew the warmth underneath his skin was turning his face bright red. "-relationships."

"Yes, well, you're going to have to get used to that, I'm afraid." James pulled Lucius closer, even while he offered Harry a sympathetic look.

Before the blushing Boy Who Lived could reply, Lucius abruptly beamed. The difference that made between the two universe's Malfoy Seniors was so startling that the brunet was speechless. "Hey, here comes someone who can show you around, Harry." The footfalls of someone coming up behind him met his ears, but he was too stunned by Lucius' words to turn towards the newcomer.

"Um, thank you, sir." The brunet couldn't help the note of surprise that slipped into his voice. Lucius calling him by his first name had thrown him for a loop.

"Please, call me Lucius. Everyone does, except for Draco." For the third time this morning, Harry found himself shaking hands. "It's nice to meet you, Harry."

"It's nice to meet you too, s-Lucius."

"My turn!" James declared, chuckling once more (Harry had a feeling that this universe's James laughed often) as he extended his hand. The Boy Who Lived shook the brunet's hand, this time unable to fight the lump in his throat. This was his father's hand, warm and real, in his own. A prickling sensation in his eyes made him aware that he was near tears. He fought them almost savagely. "Call me James, Harry."

"O-Okay." The footfalls stopped, and Harry turned to see who would be showing him around the school.

If he had thought his heart had skipped a beat when he had heard his father's voice, it was nothing compared to the way his heart fell silent in his chest. A startled gasp escaped his lips, taking away all his oxygen. Yet he couldn't think to breathe, and instead stared in a mixture of wonder and astonishment at the young man who stood before him.

// "Want me to haunt her?" Cedric offered, making Harry laugh. "Of course, it wouldn't be much of a haunting since-" //

"I say, are you all right?" The startled tone was as warm as ever, and Cedric Diggory's brilliant gray eyes revealed his automatic concern.

"I-I-I turned around too fast," Harry muttered before his knees gave out from under him and he began to crumple to the floor. Immediately, strong hands seized him and held him steady.

"Perhaps you /should/ go back to the Hospital Wing," he heard Lucius declare, anxiety coloring the blonde's tone.

Harry closed his eyes for a long moment, taking a deep breath. He'd have words with Dumbledore about this. "I'm fine," he mumbled, shaking himself free of the supporting hands. He tightened his grip on his wand, not daring to glance at this world's Cedric. Even if the ghostly Cedric had chatted with him about the fun of being dead, the sensation of a live carbon copy rattled him to the core.

"Are you sure?" Now it was James who spoke, worry dripping from every syllable. "We can take you back if you'd like."

"I'm /fine/," Harry bit out, irritation surging through his veins. "Please, just leave me be!" With that, he turned and stormed past James and Lucius, ignoring the desperate longing that welled within him to chat with the father he had never known.

His anger made him stalk furiously down the hallway and through the myriad of corridors. Blind to anything but Dumbledore's secrecy, the furious boy stormed through the corridors, ignorant of the fact that several students noticed him as he paced by their opened door.

When his anger finally subsided, Harry blinked and glanced around. It took a moment for him to realize where he was. He was by the Quidditch field, near the steps that would lead him up into the Stands.

Shrugging to himself, he climbed the steps. Collapsing into a front row seat, he glared around at the field. This wasn't his field. That James wasn't his father. His friends weren't even his friends! He wanted to go back home, even if everyone was so happy and content with their lovers.

Burying his face in his hands for a moment, the Boy Who Lived took in another deep breath. Once he was really calm, he'd find Dumbledore and ask him why the hell he hadn't bothered to mention that Cedric Diggory was alive.

Of course, he chided himself, he should have figured that out by himself. After all, Tom obviously hadn't participated in a Triwizard Tournament, so there had been no reason for the Dark Lord of this world to 'kill the spare.' Harry wondered if that meant Neville's parents were sane in this universe. The thought cheered him slightly. It would explain why Neville looked so much more confident here.

The Potter gazed out at the field, not really seeing it as he mused, his anger gradually cooling. What other differences could there be? This world was so odd, he couldn't get used to it. He hoped he didn't have to..

The idea of being trapped here, stuck with people that he knew intimately and yet they didn't know him at all, made him shudder. Brushing that horrible thought away, he wondered if Cedric was with Cho Chang in this universe too.

"Mr. Mason?" The quiet call made him twitch and he turned quickly towards the speaker. As soon as he realized who it was, however, Harry scowled.

"Hello, Headmaster. Have you come to tell me about anyone else that I know as dead but is actually alive?"

(To be continued)