All right, first let me say I'm sorry bout the wait. Then let me say I hope that it's worth it (at least a lil bit). Originally, this chapter was supposed to be two separate ones, but I chose to combine them as a bit of an apology. I hadn't planned on releasing the fic this late, but first I had a lot of school work to get caught up on and finished, then I started a new job, and then I got sick (still recovering, which is why I got the chance to post today). I have chapter 3 already written and ready to be beta-ed, and so it shouldn't be nearly as long a wait this time. As well, you should all be happy about this – I have an outline up to chapter 16, and at least by chapter 10, the chapters are going to start getting much longer (lot more scheduled to happen).
Also, in regards to the bit of the contest to guess the Revelation, I did a bit of switching. The part that I said a lot of people had figured out at least part of was originally going to be released first, and the next part later. Instead, the second part will come out first, and the first part will come out with the prophecy. Is it just me, or is that a bit confusing? Oh well, you can probably get the gist of it.
Oh, and you will notice in just a minute – I've started adding song lyrics. With the help of my beta Jax (Chels, you're going to get involved in this too, pretty please), we've been going through our extensive collections of lyrics and finding those that apply to the chapter. As a result, you'll probably see a lot of Meatloaf (Jax), Counting Crows (me), and hopefully Backstreet Boys (Chels), although there are plenty of other lyrics up for consideration for those of you who don't like those artists. If you have a song where you think one of the lyrics of it could be used in the story, include the title and artist in your review and I'd be happy to check it out.
Anywayz, I'll stop babbling so that you can get on with the fic. Hope you like it; my betas did a great job of helping fix the tricky bits.
Disclaimer: Why do you seem to think I own any of it? Do you honestly think I'd be writing fanfiction if I owned Harry Potter? You do? Wow, never thought I'd see the day… Well, just so that you can put the doubts aside, Harry Potter and anything that you recognize here belongs to the talented J.K. Rowling (who is as bad with releasing her books *cough Order of the Phoenix cough* as I am with updating). All I own is the story line, and we share a character that will be briefly mentioned here, but will be much more involved in the following chapters. Oh, and I also don't own the lyrics used, they belong to Meatloaf and the guy who wrote them (Jim something or other *dodges glare shot by Jax*).
Enjoy^.^
~*~*~*~*~
The Grass Isn't Always Greener:
Chapter 2
"And though
the nightmares should be over
Some of the terrors are still intact
I'll hear that ugly coarse and violent voice
And then he grabs me from behind and then he pulls me back"
- "Objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are" – Meatloaf
~*~*~*~*~
He was surrounded by nothing but a white fog, so dense Harry could not see more then two feet in front of him. Then there was the cold! It was unbearable and seeped into his skin, freezing Harry to his bones. He felt weary, as though he had just endured a challenge too strong, yet he was much more exhausted than if he had finished just a physical challenge. Harry had only felt like this once before, like he was physically, mentally, and spiritually drained, but he was too exhausted to think of when.
In fact, this whole place seemed familiar, but not in a good way. There was anguish and despair; a thousand lost hopes weaved into the air, and as he stood those feelings seemed to grow stronger.
"Harry."
The voice was faint, as if coming from a far off place, but the stillness of the area permitted Harry to hear it.
"Is there anyone out there?" Harry called, desperately hoping for an answer, a sign that he was not alone. "Can anyone hear me?"
"You put me here." The voice said again, sorrow and resentment tainting every syllable. Harry collapsed to his knees – he knew that voice, he begged to hear it again every night. But not like this. Never like this. "You force me to live with these wretched souls. It's all you fault."
"No." Harry whispered to himself, tears beginning to form. "It's not real. It's just a dream, it's not real."
"How could you? Why do you never listen? Your impulsiveness cost me everything! Cost me my life!" The voice was filled with anger, hate and bitterness.
"I'm sorry!" Harry screamed out, salty tears making paths down his cheeks, his heart twisting at every word his godfather uttered. "I'm sorry Sirius! I didn't mean to! I only wanted to help!"
"You always have to be the hero don't you?" Another voice, which Harry instantly recognized to be Hermione's, was heard, alongside the calls of "It's all your fault" from Sirius. His stomach dropped at her angry charge. "You never listen to anyone but yourself!"
"Hermione, I'm sorry!" Harry cried out. "I promise, I will listen to you!"
"No you won't!" Ron's voice accused, as Hermione's voice joined Sirius' calls. "You need the glory, you want the fame! You love being the hero because then everyone adores you, don't you?"
"No, please! I don't! I don't want the fame, I don't want any of it!" Harry's voice begged them to stop. He couldn't take it; they were all turning against him. Ron's voice went alongside Sirius' and Hermione's as additional voices added to the accusations.
"Even as a baby you wanted attention! Always trying to do everything early so that people would praise you!"
"And you had to be powerful, didn't you? Had to be the one to be able to defeat Voldemort? Because of you we're dead, but at least you got attention you wanted!"
"Mum?" Harry whispered, panicked. "Dad?" No, this wasn't fair. This wasn't right. "I didn't mean to! I don't want the attention! Please, stop! Please!"
"It's all your fault!" The voices of Sirius, Hermione, Ron, Lily, and James all began to blend, chanting accusingly. "Everything is all your fault!"
The cold air wrapped around Harry, increasing his tears and silencing his pleas of forgiveness. He knew it was true – everything was his fault. It was because of him that Sirius and his Mum and Dad were dead, because of him that Ron and Hermione would always be in danger.
"It is all my fault," Harry whispered, audible only to himself. "I'm sorry! So sorry." And with that, he collapsed into the fog.
~*~*~*~*~
"Wake up boy!" Harry could hear a woman calling for him, but his eyes just wouldn't open. He was so tired, but it was his own fault. Everything was…
"Enervate!" Harry felt energy shoot through his body, jolting his thoughts from his mind, and replacing them with more important ones. It took a minute for his memories of the previous day to return, but they came back in full force, especially when he opened his eyes and was forced to take in the bright whiteness of the hospital wing.
Madam Pomfrey was standing over his bed, pointing her wand directly at him. At least, he thought she was – the blindness was rather frightening. Still, it did not erase the memories he held within him, nor the guilt that lay within his heart.
"Oh no." Harry said, shutting his eyes and trying to turn over. He however, immediately halted his movements when the tendrils of pain shot through him. His face conformed into a wince, and he lay back on his back.
"I could have told you not to move." Madame Pomfrey spoke in her typical patronizing tone, yet it did not bother Harry, for it was familiar enough to comfort him. "You were thrashing around a few moments ago. All that activity has over exerted your muscles."
Harry let his head sink further into his pillow. He wanted to shut out the world; he needed a sound sleep. Unfortunately for him, sleep never achieved just what he needed.
A look of sympathy brushed over the nurse's face, for she could so easily place this appearance of hurt and pain onto the face of one of her favorite students. While they still knew too little about this boy, his haunted eyes were too much for her, and she desperately desired to see them peacefully shut for as long as possible.
"I have some dreamless sleep potion I could offer you," she finally managed to suggest. "Would you like me to fetch it?"
Anything to make the dreams go away. Harry knew the thought was wrong – the guilt was his to bear, for he had caused their pain. Yet still, the prospect of a peaceful night, provided Voldemort kept his distance, was too sweet a prospect to pass up.
"Yes, please." Harry whispered, his hope and sadness conveyed weaving into his voice.
The old nurse nearly cried – even the voice was too similar for her liking. With a last look at the tortured boy, she disappeared into the storeroom to collect the ounce of salvation that she could offer the child.
~*~*~*~*~
"I tell you, the boy is not a spy!" Pomfrey was nearly seething with anger. She knew that they had a right to be suspicious about this child, but she had seen her fair share of spies in her day. This boy had no similarity to any of them – being actually unconscious for the long period of time was a major tip off – a real spy would have risen much sooner. Also, it just did not make sense – why would Voldemort send a boy who looked so similar to their own, yet have a different name? Plus, those dreams, the ones where he would silently scream and thrash about – something was just not right.
"Poppy, I tell you, it is simply a clever disguise. Voldemort wants to weaken us, maybe even distract us. We cannot be fooled by an air of innocence." Professor Minerva McGonagall was not one to have her opinions easily swayed. She too had seen her fair share of spies in this war, ones that had ended up causing the death or sorrow of countless others. While it was unusual, she did not believe Voldemort was above physical torturing a child in order to gain access to the castle.
"Listen," Pomfrey responded, moving towards her office door. "There is something about this boy that just does not fit the profile. I do not know where he is from, or what he is doing here – I cannot even imagine a responsible and believable answer to that, but I think that we should at least give him the benefit of the doubt." She let McGonagall ponder this idea for a few moments before continuing. "Come with me to see him, talk with the boy for a bit. Then at least, you can make an acute observation."
McGonagall would have protested, for she did have other things that should be done, yet the curiosity about this boy was slowly consuming her. Besides, with her there, any slip-ups he made would be quickly noted.
With a sigh of fake boredom, McGonagall accepted Pomfrey's invitation out of the office, and headed in a beeline for the curtained bed.
~*~*~*~*~
It wasn't long before Madame Pomfrey returned, this time accompanied by someone else. Harry had easily heard the second set of footprints entering the room, and listened closely as they made their way over to his bed. The curtains were swept aside as Madame Pomfrey and a blurry shape that resembled Professor McGonagall moved to stand beside his bed.
"What's your name?" The new woman asked roughly. Her voice sounded just like McGonagall's, except that it seemed older, and more tired.
"Harry Potter." Harry answered again. He couldn't understand why they kept asking what his name was; after all they saw him at least once a week during the school year. "Please, my glasses?" He asked as an afterthought. His eyes were starting to hurt from straining to see, and he could feel the beginnings of a headache.
After only a few impatient seconds, Harry felt the heaviness of his glasses being rested on his face. He blinked a few times, letting the room come into focus. This was definitely the Hospital Wing – he'd been behind the curtains of a bed enough to know. However, seeing the two women made him gasp.
It was definitely Madame Pomfrey on his left, but she seemed older. Her eyes looked very tired, with dark circles underneath. However, Professor McGonagall was worse. Her hair was far grayer, and stress practically radiated off of her. Her eyes were furious, confused, and sad all at the same time, and there was even a bit of pity in them. Almost everything about this woman was different from the Professor McGonagall he knew. What had happened since he'd last seen them?
"There is no such person as Harry Potter." McGonagall finally said, her voice tense. This snapped Harry out of his thoughts, and he stared in disbelief at his Professor and Pomfrey.
"What are you talking about?" Harry demanded. "You both know me, how could you forget? Madame Pomfrey, I'm in here every other week during the school year. You're always criticizing me for all the dumb things I keep doing to get hurt. You said last year that you were thinking about giving me my own bed since I'm in here so much." Harry stopped to catch his breath. He wished he had something to drink, his throat hurt so badly. "And Professor, you're my Head of House. Plus my Transfiguration teacher. You see me practically every day when we're at school. Did a Death Eater obliviate you both or something? It's hasn't even been two months, you couldn't have forgotten me just yet."
"I can assure you," McGonagall said tensely. "That I have never met a Harry Potter. Now, I will ask you again, who are you? Did the Dark Lord send you? Do you have a purpose?"
"I am Harry Potter." Harry said again, wanting to scream, but it just came out as a rasping sound. His throat hurt worse. "And of course Voldemort wouldn't send me, at least not alive. You know that."
Both women just stared at him. The words of the letter Dumbledore had sent came flooding back. "This is a highly advanced portkey. It will take you to somewhere that is hopefully safer then where you are…. Sadly, we are not sure where it will take you, only that you will be far away from where you are… we may not be able to bring you back, but this could be the only way for you to stay alive. Whatever you chose to bring will be all that you will have of this world…" Where it had taken him? He definitely wasn't in the same world as before. He vaguely remembered reading about portals to other dimensions when he was younger, but he had never heard them mentioned in the wizarding world. Maybe that had been what happened. Surely, that would explain why no one knew him. He then remembered the letter he had been given. Dumbledore had said to give it to one of the names on the list after he used the portkey. Did it explain what had happened?
"Um, may I speak to Professor Dumbledore?" Harry said, causing both women to look at him with disbelief.
"Albus Dumbledore is dead." Madame Pomfrey said, looking at Harry curiously.
He was shocked at these words. How could Dumbledore be dead? Had the world gone mad? It was impossible; he couldn't die. But, then again, Harry had thought Sirius couldn't die either, and look what had happened.
"Then, Professor McGonagall, you're name was the next on the list." Harry said quietly, his voice betraying his sadness. Still, he wasn't going to cry. He was strong, a fighter. Fighters don't cry! At least, not when other people were around. "Could you bring me my trunk?"
McGonagall still hadn't taken her eyes off of him, and so Madame Pomfrey summoned his trunk.
"Wait!" McGonagall commanded, just as his trunk had levitated into the room. "How did you know your trunk was even here? You were unconscious when we found you."
"A part of the spell." Harry said, his hand fingering the sword pendant. "Hedwig, my owl, should be here to." Madame Pomfrey nodded, and Harry relaxed a bit. At least his owl was here. Despite some of the precious items held by the trunk, he loved Hedwig above them all.
Harry slowly slid out of bed, his body protesting the whole way. He still hurt, and obviously wasn't ready to move. He was on his knees next to the trunk before he realized what was missing.
"My wand?" Harry asked looking at both the women in turn. "Do either of you have it?"
"Do we look that thoughtless?" McGonagall asked, her eyes staring straight into his. "If you are any sort of a threat, giving you a wand, especially your wand would be a truly stupid move on our parts."
"I just need it to open the trunk. There's a letter I need to give you. Professor Dumbledore said to give it to you, if I couldn't give it to him." Both women continued to stare at him with disbelief. "Alright then," he finally said, "could one of you just touch the lock on the trunk, and say 'I solemnly swear I am up to no good'".
Obviously, McGonagall's curiosity got the better of her, because she reached down and did exactly what Harry had asked. It was the locking spell that Harry had put on the trunk at the end of last year – he didn't want to risk one of Voldemort's minions getting into it and taking something important, like the cloak or map.
The lock clicked open, and McGonagall stepped back, pointing her wand at Harry. He understood what this meant – no funny business. Slowly, he opened the lid, and withdrew his copy of Quidditch Through The Ages. The letter lay inside the book, and as soon as he found the familiar envelope, he handed to McGonagall. She took it cautiously, almost like she expected it to explode at any second. Madame Pomfrey's wand was now on him, since McGonagall was busy with the letter, although she wasn't paying as much attention to him. Apparently, she understood that given his current state, walking would be an accomplishment.
McGonagall muttered a few spells on the envelope, and it seemed that she liked, although was surprised, at the results. As she read through the letter enclosed, her eyes grew wide in disbelief, and her mouth went from its firm line to a surprised 'O'.
"Poppy," McGonagall said suddenly, folding up the letter and placing it in one of her robe pockets. "Please set up the wards again. Then, could you call Lily, and both wait for me in your office. I need to go find someone."
Harry hadn't even heard all of what McGonagall had said, for he had blanked after she said 'Lily'. Surely, McGonagall didn't mean his mother? She was dead. Although, if this really was some sort of alternate universe, then it's quite possible that she was alive. Harry's heart jumped, and felt happiness and excitement spread through his body, a feeling he hadn't felt in quite a while. If his mother was alive, then maybe his father was too! And Sirius! He might have never even been sent to Azkaban! He could talk to him again, he could finally talk to all of them, and see them happy and smiling like they had been in his pictures. Maybe he had brothers and sisters, and cousins. Not like Dudley, of course, but nice cousins, ones he could pal around with and talk. Sirius always said that he and James had been as close as brothers, all the Marauders had, so surely any of their children would be a cousin to him.
"Alright," Madame Pomfrey said, breaking through his happy and dazed state. "Back to bed you. I don't know what's happened to you, but whatever it was nearly killed you. It's taken enough work to get you this far, and I'm not planning on redoing any of it." He let himself be led back to the bed, and tucked in again. Although him appeared calm on the outside, he was jumping up and down like a five-year-old on the inside.
Still, the exhaustion in his body was stronger then his hopes, and he was soon forced to succumb to a fitful state of sleep once again.
~*~*~*~*~
Harry was asleep while the same women that had gathered at his beside held a meeting in Madame Pomfrey's office. Except this time, they were joined by another young woman and a young man. Well, maybe not that young, but younger than the older two women, although they hardly looked it.
"He's obviously a trick by Voldemort!" Lily cried, proving to any outside observer that this was not a calm and thoughtful meeting.
"The letter…" McGonagall said, waving the piece of parchment in the air.
"I know, I know." Lily said, cutting her off. "I tested it myself, Minerva. There is no doubt in my mind that it was written by Albus. But that doesn't prove who he is!"
"I agree with Lily." The man said. Remus Lupin, like Lily, had seen what Voldemort could do when he wanted to destroy someone, either entirely or just their sprit. He had seen James's body, bloody and battered, just… "It is a theory, the ability to travel across dimensions, but it would be hard to do, that's for sure. However, as Lily said, it was written by Albus Dumbledore, and within the last few months. But, we cannot abandon the idea that this child could be one of Voldemort's. It's entirely possible that someone did come here from another reality, sent by Dumbledore, but Voldemort got to him first. He could have easily replaced the children, and sent us one controlled by the Imperious curse."
"Or one that's a very good liar." Lily muttered.
"I still don't believe that he could have been sent by Voldemort." Madame Pomfrey said.
"But Poppy…"
"No Lily. That child's scans were extraordinary. His DNA is an exact match, and there is no spell, charm, or potion that can achieve that. Albus looked for years to make sure that this could not be done by Voldemort. Not even the darkest of all magics could create something to this effect – there always was the tiniest scrap of who the person or thing was before. Besides, what he has endured – it should have killed him. If Voldemort wanted to plant a spy or assassin, he wouldn't have risked it so much, and would have informed it better. Or else he would have been dead, not barely alive. I agree with Minerva, we should trust what Dumbledore said."
"I even looked through his trunk." Minerva said, placing a few objects on the table. "There were no weapons in it at all, and Voldemort had to have known we'd take the wand. Look at these." She held up a slivery cloth and passed it to Lily and Remus. "This is an invisibility cloak. James's invisibility cloak. I looked – the initials are there. I know he specifically avoided telling people that he had initialed it for the purpose of keeping it from being copied. And look at this photo album! Look at the photograph!" She lay the leather bound book on the table and opened it to a picture, one of Harry's favorites. It was a picture of him, when he was just over a year old, sitting on the rug, with his parents next to him. It didn't look like it had been posed for, not at least like some of his other photos. His father was lying on his stomach, eye level with Harry, and his mother was sitting behind them, alternately giving James a kiss on the cheek and Harry one on the head every so often. There was a fire burning behind them, and every time he looked at it he could almost feel the love and comfort that had been in that room. Harry had asked Remus once when it had been taken, and, his eyes misting a bit, guessed it would have been sometime in October. October of 1981, making it the last picture of his parents before their death. But the group sitting in the office didn't know that.
"That's James." Remus said, his voice raspy, as he picked up the album for a closer look.
"The book is full of pictures like that." McGonagall continued, a few tiny tears appearing in her eyes. "Voldemort wouldn't go to the trouble of creating those. It would have made us happy. He doesn't want us to see James laughing and smiling. He wouldn't want us to know of anything with us that could have been happy that year. What we went through, that's what he had wanted…"
McGonagall trailed off, while the other members of the room nodded. Lily silently moved over to the window in the office, and looked out in the hospital wing. She could see the boy in his bed from here; all the curtains were charmed to be see-through from the office. He looked so hurt, so innocent. Maybe what they suspected wasn't true. Maybe he really was what he said he was.
"What else was in the trunk?" Lily asked silently.
"A fair amount of parchment." McGonagall replied. "As well as quills and ink. A full set of schoolbooks from years one through five, the Hogwarts uniform and other clothes." An expression of disgust spread over her face when she said that, as if she hadn't particularly liked the state of the 'other clothes'. "A broomstick, and a large sack of money, both muggle and magical."
"The muggle money proves it." Lupin said, setting down the album. "Voldemort would never send someone to us with muggle money, it looks too much out of place. Most wizards and witches have never touched a pence, and Voldemort surely wouldn't allow it. He is too anti-muggle to send someone to get some of their money."
"So then we will trust him?" Lily asked, her voice tinged with hope. If this child was who he said he was, then he would technically be her son. And, although she had never said so, Lily had always wished she had another child. Mind you, that wish had mostly been when Jimmy was younger, but that didn't mean it hadn't died.
"I say we watch him." McGonagall said, moving beside Lily and placing a hand on her shoulder. "Term doesn't started for a while, and so we have a few weeks before the rest of the students arrive. If anything indicates that he's a threat, we'll take action. Otherwise, we have some proof that he is who he says he is, and so we will treat him as such. I'll draw up the papers, and he will join Hogwarts in the fall as a new student. Sixth year, obviously, judging by his books."
Lily only nodded. She desperately wanted to fully believe that this was her son, but knew she had to stay cautious. She couldn't risk Jimmy's safety by falling into a trap. Still, if he really didn't pose a threat…
Stop it. Lily's thoughts halted that train. She knew that she should not think like that – it would present too great a risk. While she did not have to be paranoid of the boy, she could not go about totally believing that this boy represented a second destiny of her own son until it was definite. Still, she could get to know him, let him gain her trust. After the disbelief that had presented him with the last few days, they owed him at least that much.
~*~*~*~*~
So, what do you think? Worth it? Good, but wish it could have been up sooner? (I think I'm gonna at least get a lot of 'could have been up sooner'). Well, post your review and let me see what you have to say. And remember, all flamers will be returned to sender.
Now, for the thank yous:
Thank you to
PrincessSerenaXavior
girlknight
susieq (I know, quite mean – I'm one of those odd people that like writing cliffies. Believe me, there's a big one coming up (unless I combine it with the following chapter, which I might do just to be nice))
penny
Jaded Angel8
TheSilverLady
minty
Silvercrystal77
Remus Is Mine (many thanks for beta-ing)
aroar11
Ash of Mine
Sykoticstalker27 (sorry I left you hanging)
Chels (many thanks for beta-ing)
boogalaga
volleypickle16
Usakura (Sailor Moon and/or Cardcaptor Sakura fan?)
Wow, 16 reviews! A girl could get used to this…. Anywayz, sorry to all for the wait and I hope this chapter met you length approval^.^ A last thank you to Jax and Chels for beta-ing (the next chap will be in your inboxes soon!), and I look forward to hearing form all of you. Just a reminder – for email notifications of updates, either leave your email address or just be signed into ff.net and have your email there. If you don't want to receive notifications, just make the note in your review and I'll take you off the list.
See you next time!