If Only Life Were Like This
By Josh McCusker
A/N: I'm sorry the last chapter was so short, but I was up all night and just couldn't leave the story without having even touched on Harry's transition to the new world. I am sure this one will be much longer, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as you have the start. I thank you all for your reviews! It's great to hear such nice things from everyone. Please, keep them coming! If you want a personal reply, please let me know and I'd be glad to. I am never sure if that's appropriate or not. Well, here we go..!
After climbing to his feet and holding his wand steady at what appeared to be his father, Harry tried to stop the itching in his eyes by blinking several times rapidly. It didn't seem to be working however, so he tried to keep them open so as not to be surprised by any sudden movements.
"Harry, what are you doing?"
Harry couldn't reply, but just stood there with his wand pointing. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the front door of the Dursley's was re-opened and Uncle Vernon came out to stand at his father's side.
"What's going on James? The neighbors," he hissed.
"I know, Vernon. Please, give us a moment. I'll take care of anyone who sees."
"I'd best – Yes I'll just…" He made to go back into the house, his mustache twitching nervously as he eyed the wand in Harry's hand. Apparently even in this madness of a world Uncle Vernon just couldn't bring himself to be completely comfortable with magic.
"You won't be going anywhere," Harry said forcibly, regaining his voice before his uncle could escape. "I want to know what the bloody hell you think you're up to?"
"What the devil do you mean, boy?" Vernon said strongly, his voice only slightly betrayed by the quaver it had adopted.
"I mean, what is this business of you being friendly and my – my father being alive?"
"Harry, where did you get that ring?" His father's question sunk in even though he knew the man was avoiding his own question. Harry did realize that the ring was still on his hand and had the sudden feeling that all of this revolved around the horrible piece of jewelry. How stupid was he to put it on without even checking for curses? "Harry, that ring looks familiar…" James' voice trailed off as a loud BANG filled the air.
Harry whirled around to see the Knight Bus sitting in all its purple, three level glory in the middle of Privet Drive. Vernon could be heard to gasp and was beginning to wheeze. "Can they see it?" he whispered frantically to James. It would have been comic had Harry not been in such a state of shock, for getting off of the Knight Bus was Harry's mother, followed closely by two young girls with red hair. The first of them was most definitely Ginny Weasley and the second appeared to be a younger version of his mother.
"Ginny! What are you doing here?" Harry's voice was cracking and his vision was blurred, but he tried to keep it as steady as his wand.
"Harry, what the bloody –"
"Sarah Minerva Potter! Watch your mouth!" Lily's admonition came almost as if automatically and the girl, whom Harry now took to be named Sarah, cowed under it. "Harold James Potter, you put that wand away this instant. You may be seventeen now, but you will not go around waving your wand in front of muggles!"
"Lily," James started from behind Harry, but was cut off.
"No, I've had enough of his behavior." She turned back to Harry and even though he'd never had a mother; Harry could tell he was in for it. "Put it away. Now!"
Harry lowered his wand, scared but resigned to his fate. Whatever was going on, it wouldn't do to alert all of Little Whinging to it. He replaced his wand in his trouser pocket but kept his hand on it just in case.
"That's better," Lily said with a slight smirk. Stan Shunpike, whom Harry knew from previous rides on the Knight Bus, was staring at the whole scene from the bottom-most stair, his mouth agape. "I believe you're supposed to be getting the luggage, Stan," Lily reminded him softly. He seemed to come to his senses and smiled as he jumped off and ran to get Harry's luggage from where it lay next to Aunt Petunia.
Harry hadn't even heard her come out, but he was quickly making his way over to a shocked-looking Ginny. "What are you doing here? Where're Ron and Hermione?"
"I'm here with Sarah of course," Ginny said strongly. "Why else would I be here?" She had a smirk on her face, but Harry ignored it. He was looking very put-out, and she softened a little and continued. "Ron's probably snogging Hermione at the library, actually. It's the only reason he sets foot in the place, isn't it?"
Harry just looked at her as if she'd grown a set of bat ears or something and Ginny quickly looked around to see if anyone were standing behind her with a wand pointed. When she saw nothing, she just gave him an odd look and went over to Sarah, whispering something in the girl's ear.
It didn't take much to gather that Sarah was his sister. Aside from the name, Sarah Minerva Potter, she also looked exactly like Harry's mother, except that she had her father's eyes. Again Harry was reminded of how confusing it could be whilst looking at family albums in regards to parents and their kids.
"Harry," his father called, moving over to him as Stan disappeared back inside the bus, whose occupants were now all looking out with very sour expressions. "We need to talk about that ring, but we're late for your test."
"My test?"
"For your apparition license, Harry. Don't you remember?"
"Oh, right," Harry said nervously. He hadn't a clue how to apparate, and was suddenly even more nervous as memories of the Weasleys' descriptions of splinching came to mind.
"Come on, we're taking the underground." James lead Harry by the arm as the others all clambered onto the Bus and disappeared with a loud BANG. The Dursleys, who were waving to Harry and James as they walked towards Wysteria Walk and the underground station, all looked as though they might collapse the moment James and Harry were out of sight. "Now about that ring," James said sternly, his hand tightening slightly on Harry's arm. "It looks like a Malfoy ring to me."
"Malfoy?" Harry's heart sank. If Malfoy had given it to him, it was no wonder everything had gone batty. He was ready to hit himself for being so stupid when his father continued.
"You didn't tell me that things were that serious between you, Harry. You're of age, so you can make your own choices, but I really wish you'd consider your career before running off and getting married."
Married? Harry was confused. Did Malfoy have a sister now too? Maybe that was the plot, he wondered. Maybe he would be married into the Malfoy family and then it would be easy for Voldemort to gain access to him. Yes, that must be it.
"You and Draco –"
"Hold on!" Harry shouted. "I'm not marrying Draco Malfoy!" He had stopped directly and his father had been caught short, nearly yanking off Harry's arm in his attempts to stay steady. "You think I'd marry Malfoy?"
"Harry," his father said with another note of concern entering his voice. "What is on with you this morning? You're acting very strangely."
"Strange? You think I'm strange! You're supposed to be dead! How is that for strange?"
James looked taken aback, and he released Harry's arm and stepped away from his son. Pulling out his wand and aiming it at Harry, he muttered something and a blue light shot out from the tip, completely engulfing the confused teen.
His father was looking all over his body at the blue shield that seemed to now surround him. Harry could see that some places were of darker or lighter shades, but over-all it seemed to be the same everywhere.
"Well there's nothing physically wrong with you, but there is something wrong. I'm not a mental healer, so I can't account for your state of mind, but there's nothing physically wrong with that either. Harry, if that ring isn't from Malfoy, where did you get it?"
"I don't know," Harry said softly. "It came last night by a strange owl."
"And you put it on without as much as a question?"
"I – I liked it," he said feebly. Even in his mind he knew how stupid he'd been.
His father tutted and said, "We'll be late," and continued on. "Let's talk about this after your test."
"But, I – I don't know how to apparate," Harry said quietly. He was suddenly angry that someone in the Order hadn't taught him, since you'd think it would come in handy if he were surrounded by Death Eaters and needed a quick escape. He supposed Dumbledore didn't want his star puppet running off on his own, and that would be why he hadn't learned.
"Don't know? We spent months teaching you!" His father's voice was becoming raspy, and Harry could hear the strain in it. "This is too much, Harry. I don't know what is going on with you, but if this is a joke it's going too far! You're acting very strangely!" He sighed and rubbed his temple, but then looked up. "Alright, quickly, you simply point your wand – Yes, pull it out and point your wand – and concentrate on where you want to be, or whom you would like to meet. Got it?" Harry nodded. "Now just say 'Apparate' and point your wand at yourself."
Harry concentrated on Dumbledore's office as hard as he could, imagining the whirling silvery gadgets and Fawkes. He pointed his wand and shouted, "Apparate!"
A loud crack filled his ears and Harry felt like his stomach had just been shrunk to the size of a walnut. He was about to chuck up the previous night's dinner when it all stopped and he found himself rocking on his feet. He didn't know when he'd closed his eyes, but he opened them quickly and found himself in front of his father.
"Well, where did you try and go then?" he asked sharply.
"Dumbledore."
"Harry, you can't apparate onto Hogwart's grounds! You know that!" He gave an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes. Harry had the feeling that this version of his father had put up with a lot from his son. "Let's try again. Picture somewhere else, please; let's try that playpark there, shall we?"
Harry nodded and tried again, this time picturing the playpark in his mind and casting the spell. The same loud crack and the shrunken feeling happened, but a little bit lessened this time. When he opened his eyes, which he wished he would stop closing, he found that he was in the playpark nearly a hundred feet from his father.
"Brilliant! Now back!"
So Harry apparated back and smiled despite himself. He'd learned that rather quickly!
"You're always pulling this," James said as they continued to walk briskly towards the underground. "I swear we let you spend too much time with Sirius," he added angrily. "He'll never grow up, that one."
"FUCK YOU!" Harry burst suddenly. He was so angry he'd yanked his wand back from his pocket and was aiming it right at his father. His face was so read and his breathing so heavy that James actually backed away, obviously scared. "Don't you ever fucking talk about Sirius like that!"
"What the hell is wrong with you, Harry?"
"I don't know what's going on here," Harry started, his voice shaking with the effort of his breathing. "I don't know what you're all playing at, what game this is, but I've had enough! I won't take you mentioning my godfather! You're already using my parents against me, but not Sirius!"
"Harry, I'm not –"
"Shut up! Just shut up!" Harry tried to calm himself, to think, but held his wand steady on the man pretending to be his father. Polyjuice potion? Some form of horrible spell? Maybe a potion to trick someone into thinking of people they love? The ring could be altering his vision. None of it really made much sense, but he was certain that the ring was the culprit. Suddenly determined to get rid of it, Harry shoved his wand in his armpit and made to yank the ring off. He was angered to find it wouldn't budge. He pulled as hard as he could, but it began to feel he'd have to take off his finger to remove it.
"Harry, please, let me help…" His father was moving toward him and so Harry grabbed his wand up again to aim it at him.
"You've done enough, thanks," he said coldly. "Pretending to be my father, as if I'm stupid enough to believe he could come back. I'm not a fucking child," he spat.
"Harry, I know. What are you on about my being dead? I'm not dead, Harry." James studied Harry for a moment, then pulled his wand from his sleeve and held it out to his son. "Here, take it if it'll make you feel better." His face was set and the wand was held handle towards Harry, so the teen took it and continued aiming his own at the man. "Listen, Harry, I don't know what this is about, but you're obviously serious. Please, let's talk about this."
"If you're my father, then what was I doing at the Dursleys?"
"Well, you go every year, don't you? To visit Dudley and have a little bit of fun with your cousin. You come home in the morning and we go off to a Quidditch match, then your mum makes your favorite –"
"Right, why would I want to hang out with Dudley? He's a great big old prat!"
"You've never had a problem with Dudley before, Harry," his father said calmly, ignoring the way Harry had raised his voice. It seemed almost like he'd stopped talking to his son and was talking to a patient now, for he was being professional, calm and direct on everything. "Listen, we're heading to London anyway. Why don't we stop at Saint Mungo's and just see one of my coworkers…"
"I don't need to go to hospital. I need to see Dumbledore," Harry stated. "We'll just have to get my apparition license and head up to Hogsmeade so we can –"
"Dumbledore's in London, Harry. You don't expect he spends the whole summer locked up at Hogwarts, do you?"
"No. But we'll go to Hogwarts and he can come to meet us." Harry was determined not to go anywhere he didn't trust. Without further comment, he set off for the Underground station and pocketed his wand before any attention might be called.
When they reached the red telephone box, his father dialed the code and announced their business. The badges were issued and the voice welcomed them as the box descended into the street. Once inside, Harry rushed them past the fountain, which was in good order even after his fight with Voldemort on this very spot just over a year ago. Something struck him as odd about this, but he continued on.
When they arrived at the security desk, Eric the guard was on duty the same as the last time Harry had come. He pulled out both wands and handed them to the man who, unusual to his normal lazy, unshaven self, raised his eyebrows that the boy had two wands.
"What business are you on at the Ministry today," he asked gruffly.
"I'm to take my apparition test," announced Harry.
"Right," he said as his eye roamed to Harry's badge. Noticing the name, he looked over immediately to Harry's father and his eyes widened as he took in the badge on the older man's chest. "Hey, you're James Potter!"
"That's what it says," James said with a smile.
"I saw you in the 1982 Quidditch World Cup! You was brilliant! The way you handle a broom!" The man was positively foaming at the mouth as he came around the desk and made to shake Harry's father's hand. "My son would kill me if I didn't get your autograph! He says there's been no one like you playing for the Cannons since! Mind?"
"Of course not." Taking a quill from his inside pocket, James signed a slip of paper that had been produced. "What's his name?"
"Tony," Eric said excitedly. "He'll bloody love me!"
"How old is the lad?"
"Nearly fourteen," he said, puffing up his chest. "Goes to Hogwarts – just got on the team as reserve chaser! I believe your boy is captain, isn't that right?" He turned to Harry as he asked this, looking for everything like he expected Harry to suddenly announce that his son was going to be put first-string. Harry simply nodded dumbly and watched as the man's face turned bright red when he got the paper back and noticed a few wizards watching the scene with sour looks.
"Right," James said. "We should get on. Don't want to be late."
"Yeah, I'll just –" He had pulled his golden rod from behind the desk and ran it over the two of them, smiling nervously as he did James. Placing the wands in the golden device Harry had seen him use before, Harry waited for his announcement. "Eleven inches, phoenix-feather core, been in use six years?" Harry nodded and he did James's. "Fourteen inches, unicorn hair core, been in use twenty-nine years?" James nodded and both wands were handed back. He slipped the two pieces of parchment back on the desk and beamed as the two of them disappeared to the lifts.
"You played Quidditch?"
"Yes," James said with a note of concern. "Joined the Cannons right after school. I was captain after three years, retired just a few seasons ago. I'm a healer now." He looked like he had just diagnosed someone as dying, but said nothing more.
Harry got into the lift when it finally arrived and announced, "Level Six." His father raised an eyebrow but said nothing as the lift jostled into movement. They stopped, as usual, at each level until six. Several witches and wizards got on and off along the way, but only one followed them onto level six; a gangly young man who, by the looks of him was also off to take his apparition test. Harry followed him with his father trailing behind him and was glad when his instincts turned out to be correct.
The office was quite large and had a waiting area as well as a few desks. There was a chalkboard floating above each of them with magical numbers writing across them. It seemed to go in line with the young wizards and witches who were rushing over to the desks during every change. Harry saw the device they received the numbers from, which upon closer inspection turned out to be just a box that spit out the parchment. Harry grabbed up his number, four-thousand twenty-two and sat at the nearest bench.
Not even ready to be nervous, having too much on his mind already, Harry simply rushed to the desk with his number above it when it came. The witch, who was wearing a monocle and a funny purple hat with a large stuffed cat on it looked at his parchment and pointed towards a door marked '7'. His father didn't follow as he entered the room, which he was glad of.
"Name," said a voice as he stepped through.
"Harry Potter."
"Right, over there, on the line boy. Right." The voice, it turned out, belonged to an elderly wizard with an unshaven face, darkened teeth that seemed to be lain haphazardly and a lined face that reminded Harry of Mad-Eye Moody. "Go ahead and tell us where you'll apparate to, then go on and return immediately."
"Er, the playpark on Wysteria Walk, Little Whinging, Surrey," he said nervously.
"Go on then!"
Harry thought of the same park he'd apparated to earlier in the day and cast the spell. This time, the crack was just as loud but the stomach shrinking feeling was lessened. It seemed that each time he apparated, it got a little easier. When he opened his eyes on the playpark, Harry smiled to himself and then thought of the office from which he'd just come. Casting the spell again, Harry tried to keep his eyes open this time. He nearly succeeded, but a gust of air made him close them at the last minute. This time he opened them slowly, scared he'd done it wrong and left his legs behind.
When he opened them on the same ugly face, took a step forward and wiggled his toes to be sure everything was there, he smiled brightly. Since he'd been so angry before, scared when his father taught him, it hadn't seemed quite as scary until he'd had a chance to think of what he was doing.
"Well done! Pass. Now get out of here."
Harry did just that, leaving the office in a hurry and excited to share his news with Ron. When he excited the office to see his father standing anxiously near the bench where he'd sat, he remembered what was going on and frowned.
"Let's go," he said roughly, leading his father to the lifts.
When they arrived in the entrance to the Ministry, Harry immediately pointed his wand at himself, thought of the gates of Hogwarts and apparated. He didn't wait for his father or even care if he came along since he was quite determined that even if the rest of the world was in on this, Dumbledore certainly wouldn't be, nor would anyone at Hogwarts.
Harry arrived quickly, but his stomach ached as he began to march up the drive. He figured the longer the journey, the more affect it had on a person.
When he arrived at the door, which took a considerable amount of time without the aide of the carriages, Harry opened it and headed right up to the Gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office. Without so much as a thought, Harry sat down in the middle of the hall and waited.
After a half an hour, his father appeared short of breath and stood with his hands on his knees, looking for all the world like he'd run the whole way. Harry rolled his eyes and rested his chin on his hand while they waited.
It wasn't but fifteen more minutes when Filch rounded the corner and got the look of a man possessed as he rushed over to them. Mrs. Norris followed behind him like a shadow.
"What are you two doing here?"
"Waiting for the headmaster," Harry said without a hint of fear of the groundskeeper. Filch didn't seem to take well to this, but he didn't comment. "I suppose you'll go and get him for us?"
"Harry! Don't speak to Mr. Filch that way!"
"Don't tell me what to do," Harry said quickly, standing up and aiming his wand at the imposter. "You're not my bloody father!"
James just shook his head and said more quietly, "If you would please, Mr. Filch. We need Professor Dumbledore here to settle some things."
"Certainly, Mr. Potter," Filch said with his idea of a smile. Harry nearly groaned; of course Filch would be in on it – anything to get him the right to torture students. Voldemort would obviously allow him that pleasure. "Might'nt you be more comfortable in the Great Hall? Or one of the guest rooms?"
"We'll wait here," Harry replied tersely.
"Fine, fine," Filch said with a nasty tone. He muttered to himself as he walked off, Mrs. Norris giving Harry a baleful look before following.
After another forty minutes, Harry turned to find Professor Dumbledore coming along the corridor with – Harry almost passed out when he saw who it was, his stomach doing a worse lurch than when he'd apparated. Striding alongside Dumbledore in a black, pin-striped cloak with a well-pressed suit underneath and a dark head of hair atop his warm skin was what could only be an older version of the boy Harry had met in the Chamber of Secrets.
Seeing Voldemort in the flesh had scared Harry, seeing him in this disguise, one that made him seem almost normal was far worse. It certainly didn't give him the warm fuzzies that he was walking with Dumbledore in a seemingly friendly manner.
"James, how good to see you," Tom Riddle said jovially. "Albus told me that you and your son were here to visit the headmaster and, as I was with him, I just had to come." They grasped hands firmly and shook like they were old friends. Harry felt like he'd be sick.
"Harry my boy, what can I do for you," Dumbledore said with a concerned look on his face. Harry felt a warm spread through his mind for a moment and realized that the headmaster was performing Occlumency. With a quick bit of concentration, Harry stopped him and put up his guards. The last year had given him time to learn his lesson on this matter, and even the greatest wizard in the land couldn't get into Harry's mind if he didn't want him to. Dumbledore gave a startled look, but only in his eyes. Neither Tom nor James noticed anything. "Shall we go up to my office?"