Doppelganger
Part VI: FLASH
By Krystiana
krissy@zahadum.com
Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue. (aka HP and all other characters belong to JKR and whole bunch of other people, blah, blah, blah...)
Warnings: This chapter is pretty much PG, actually. Very tame.
Archive: My site (), FanFiction.net, Noire Sensus (if they should somehow get a hold of this), Schnoogle (eventually). Anywhere else, please e-mail me first. ^_^
This story is in no way related to my other HP work in progress, "The Dark." This is just an idea that has been in my brain for a LONG time, and I finally came up with a way for it to happen. I may not continue it, depending on the response I get. The idea will be quite happy with either becoming an actual fic or staying in my brain. In other words, let me know what you think.
A big whoop-whoop to my beta, Emma Grant. You WILL get that picture I promised - really. (I draw when I get inspiration, otherwise it turns out to be crap.)
Two figures stood in front of a mirror. This wasn't a normal mirror by any means. You didn't even have to know the history of it to know it was an unusual object - the eerie glow and the flickers of images told you that much.
These two figures - one a woman, one... something else, were studying these images. Truthfully, they couldn't see the complete picture, but they had both gathered that what they were seeing was a world not their own.
"Bellatrix, how long?"
"Anytime now, my lord."
* * *
Harry trudged into the Gryffindor common room, collapsing into the sofa Hermione was sitting on.
"You look exhausted, Harry," Hermione said, looking up. "Why were you gone so long? Ginny was back from practice an hour and a half ago."
"I stayed outside and flew around the pitch a bit. And then I practiced with the snitch." Harry let his head fall back on the arm of the sofa, closing his eyes. "I caught the snitch six times in thirty minutes."
"And you're proud of yourself, I suppose?" Hermione smirked, placing a book mark on the page she was on and closing her book.
"Not proud," Harry said, scooting down the couch a bit so he could see Hermione, but still lie down. "Just completely worn out."
Hermione set her book down in her lap and leaned forward. "Can we talk about what's been happening, Harry?"
Harry shut his eyes once more. "Can't it wait until tomorrow, Hermione?"
"No. I'm researching tomorrow when I wake up. If you want me to help you, you have to talk to me now."
Harry sat up, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fine. What do you want to know?"
"What the change is like." Hermione pulled out some parchment and a quill. "I saw it happen, but I need to hear from you what it actually feels like."
"It feels like nothing. I'm just in one spot, and then I'm in another."
Hermione blinked. "You don't feel anything at all?" She scribbled a bit on the parchment. "What about the other things? Did you feel anything when you saw the visions in the mirror? Or what about when you ran into the strange Malfoy?"
"No. I was just walking, and I found myself in a place in Hogwarts I've never seen before." Harry looked away from Hermione and into the fireplace.
"And when you suddenly found yourself kissing somebody, what did you do?"
Harry did not answer and did not look at Hermione. He instead stood up, still staring into the embers. "I don't think that question helps your research at all." He turned away and began walking towards the dormitory stairs.
Hermione stood as well, his lips pursed. "Harry James Potter!" she hissed. "Come back here!"
Harry stopped walking, but did not turn around. "Did you tell Ron?"
"No."
"Goodnight, Hermione."
This time, Harry ignored Hermione's calls after him.
* * *
Draco was still fuming by morning. His expression alone was enough to catch Pansy's attention, who tried to cheer him up by ruthlessly teasing some third and fourth year Hufflepuffs. However, the only thing that made Draco's face lift was an eagle dropping a small package in front of him.
He removed the letter attached to the package, instantly recognizing his mother's handwriting. He quickly opened the letter, an odd smile drawing across his face.
Draco,
May I ask why you've neglected writing to me? Your father may be in Azkaban, but I am still your mother. Seeing as how I'm all alone in the manor, you have even more reason to write to me.
Draco grimaced. He hadn't realized how much time had passed since he last sent his mother an owl. He skimmed down the letter, picking out the important parts.
I'm afraid to say that my efforts to get your father out of Azkaban have not been very successful. I may be a Malfoy, but I don't have anywhere near the amount of influence your father has. If our positions were reversed, I'm sure I would be out by now. I would like you to speak to Professor Snape about this. Severus still has quite a bit of influence with the Ministry. I doubt he'll be able to accomplish anything, but I'm running out of options.
I need your father home, Draco. The manor is dreadfully boring without him around.
Draco sighed, folding the letter back up. Professor Snape, while he did have some influence in the ministry because of his research in potions, could never pull any weight to get his father out of Azkaban out of fear of bringing suspicion on him. It looked like his father would be there for a while.
"Draco?"
He looked up and across the table at Pansy, who was staring back with concern. Draco merely shook his head, scooped up the package, and left the table.
* * *
"Harry!"
Harry immediately sank down in his chair when he heard Hermione's sharp yell. He had succeeded in avoiding her all day up until now - he'd skipped breakfast and lunch, as well as taken longer routes to classes to avoid seeing her in the hallways.
She slipped into the seat next to his, slamming her books on the table. "You owe me, Potter."
Harry stared for a moment before responding. "What?"
"Even with how uncooperative you were last night, I managed to dig up a very likely cause for your problems." She pulled a book out of her stack and thrust it at Harry. "Never avoid me when I'm trying to do you a favor."
Harry held the book in his hands, staring down at the cover. "'Morgana's Life, History, and Accomplishments?'" He flipped open the cover and noticed the symbol stamped in the corner. "This is from the restricted section! Hermione, how did you - "
Dumbledore gave me permission." Hermione cut him off. "Just hurry up and read what I've marked before class starts."
Harry glanced to the front of the classroom. Professor Carter hadn't arrived yet. He quickly found Hermione's bookmark and opened to those pages.
Morgana's Mirror
This particular creation of Morgana was made when she was only a teenager, yet she already shows potential for great power and ideas with this simply made legend. It has been called many things throughout history, such as 'The Mirror of Wishes,' or 'The Otherworld Mirror.'
Legend has it that the mirror was created with the purpose of visiting another version of yourself or allowing another version of you come to your world. Morgana, as we learned earlier, came up with the original theory behind alternate dimensions. She thought it you learned of another version of your own history, you would learn more about your faults, weaknesses, and strengths.
However, it was considered a failed project by Morgana, when she could only see glimpses of other 'dimensions,' and not allow them to crossover into one another. She threw it away, when a scavenger supposedly found it and kept it. Her theory of the actual existence of other dimensions has never proven, but it is widely accepted. Many witches and wizards crave to find this mirror to try and prove her theory true, but the mirror has been very elusive since the year 1398 AD.
Harry read over the entry a few more times before having to stuff it in his bag when Professor Carter walked in the room.
"Good afternoon, class."
Professor Carter was well-liked among all the houses. He rarely took points away from any house, and he always gave generously when he thought points were deserved, but never favoring one house over another. He hadn't attended Hogwarts, so he had no loyalty to any of the houses.
"Today we'll be discussing a charm that can be used for defensive or offensive purposes. It originates from Japan, based on a very old myth from the 9th century..."
Harry sank down in his chair again, his thoughts running away from what Carter was saying. Right now, that mirror was the only clue he had.
He had to tell Ron. Harry wasn't looking forward to that conversation at all. He would have to explain how close he had been to being in Slytherin, and who he had been kissing the other night...
~After the Quidditch match. I'll tell him after the game, so it doesn't distract him...~
* * *
Harry and Ron were the first ones to the Gryffindor table for breakfast that morning, both talking around their food in hushed voices about their strategy. Hermione joined them soon enough, sitting across from the two of them. "Good morning, you two."
"Hi, Hermione."
"Morning, 'Mione."
The two went back to their quiet plotting, stealing glances at the Slytherin table to see if any of their Quidditch team had arrived for breakfast yet.
Harry was chewing his food thoughtfully when he felt a sharp kick to his kneecap from underneath the table. He looked up and saw Hermione glaring at him. Her eyes shifted from him to Ron, who was glaring across the room at the Slytherins. She looked back to Harry, who shook his head.
"Well, you should." Hermione said loudly, making Ron look at her. She grabbed a scone and stood up. "I'm going to the library," she announced. "Good luck today."
"You're not going to the game?" Ron asked, his face dropping.
"Of course I'm going. I'm just going to the library first. I have some extra work to do." She shot a pointed glare at Harry and left. Ron, who was too wrapped up in the thought of the upcoming match, didn't notice Hermione's sharp look.
Harry sighed and looked down at his plate, pushing the eggs around with his fork. He knew he had to tell Ron, but today was too important to distract him with something that bizarre. He heard the doors to the Great Hall open and shut, but didn't look up until he heard the whispers.
"Isn't that Professor Lupin?"
"Who's Lupin?"
"He was our Defense teacher a few years ago..."
Harry immediately stood up and turned around. Sure enough, Remus Lupin was walking down the Great Hall. A grin spread over Harry's face and he waved enthusiastically.
Lupin pulled Harry into a hug. "How are you, Harry?"
"I've been good." Harry drew away from Lupin, looking at his face. The werewolf looked tired, but cheerful. "How have you been?"
"Much better than I have been lately. Since Umbridge left her position at the Ministry, the anti-werewolf supporters have died down, as well."
"That's great." Harry grinned again. "Do you mind if I ask why you're here?"
"Well, I'm actually assisting Snape for one of your lessons on Monday, but I came a few days early so I could see the match."
Harry beamed at the thought of Lupin coming to the Quidditch game. "It should be a good game."
Lupin smiled back. "They always are."
* * *
"Harry, what if it happens during the match?"
"Then it happens. There's nothing we can do about it."
"I don't want to lose this match because we're going insane."
"We're not going insane, Draco."
"Fine, but I still don't want to lose the match."
"We won't."
* * *
The Snitch was right in between Harry and Draco. Draco spotted it first, but Harry's broom was faster.
Arms stretched out, pulses racing, the two seekers were flying straight at each other. They grew closer and closer, and just as it appeared that they were going to hit...
FLASH.
* * *
Hermione threw an arm over her eyes when the entire sky suddenly lit up, looking like the world's biggest camera had just taken a picture.
The glare subsided, and Hermione lowered her arm, waiting for spots she was seeing to fade.
She looked down at the field, searching for Ron and Harry. Ron was where he was supposed to be, rubbing his eyes, but Harry was on the ground, his red uniform glaring out against the green grass.
Hermione froze, her eyes widening.
Beside him lay Draco Malfoy.
A few feet away from both of them lay two more people, both clad in the Slytherin Quidditch uniform. One of them had a shock of blond hair, the other raised his dark brown head to see what had happened.
Even from her seat in the stadium, Hermione could see the lightning bolt scar across his forehead.
to be continued
Review Responses:
headphone therapy: Ahh... you caught on to Draco being able to feel the shift, and Harry not. (No one but my beta has mentioned it yet...) You'll find out why soon, I promise. As to your second question, I wasn't really planning on explaining it... I just decided that he shouldn't wear glasses. However, I've just thought of something, so you'll find that out, as well. :)
CS WhiteWolf: What Dumbledore wants with Hermione is related to the Order, but also to the 'problem' that's happening (kinda) - that's all I'll say.