The sixth attempt: "Be careful what you wish for!" Sounds familiar.

Part1

Now, what kind of fat chance did he have? Finding a Genie Lamp, here, in Hogwarts? None really. Just while HE was going to Bathroom for a quick pee before the Halloween feast. Well, it was too tempting to let it there, in the middle of the corridor where someone might just see it, and anyone could pick it up. Never know which evil hands could find it, and use it. So Harry decided it was best he take it with him, to the Bathroom.

Unknown to him was the rat that scrutted quickly away after his departure, down the main staircase and out in the grounds, only to transform into Peter Pettigrew in the Forbidden Forest. "PSss, ssh sh, Harry doesn't seem to know the phrase, Curiosity killed the Gargoyle." Well, actually, Harry did know a saying that wait that way, but well, Bless his Soul, Peter didn't know that Harry knew.

Meanwhile, Harry had rubbed the lamp and a red genie was now floating in the Bathroom, with the sweet music of water running in the background.

"Ho Ho ho, I am the Blue Genie," said the red Genie.

"No you're not," said Harry, the lamp still in his hands. "You'r red!"

"Oh, for goodness sake, human, I'm colour-blind! Now, hurry up with your wish!"

"Only one wish?" Harry asked.

"Just the one, anything you like. I'm the almighty Blue Genie!"

"Red."

"Whatever."

Harry thought hard, he had the chance to make one wish, anything he wanted. The possibilities started growing in his mind. Anything. "I want Snape to dance on tables!"

"What?" said the Red - I mean, Blue Genie. This would be harder than he thought. "Not THAT! I've already done it loads, now, don't you have any ambition?"

Harry thought hard. "Ok, mh... I would like something very much, but well, someone might hear and..." A crimson blush coloured his cheeks suddenly. He took off his glasses, and started rubbing the lenses in circles to so call 'clean them off'.

"Tell me so in my ear," said the Blue but actually red Genie. He approached Harry and let the Boy Who Lived whisper in his smoky ear. Harry did so quickly, before turning red tomato. The Genie chuckled. Kiss Hermione Granger? Who would have guessed that bushy hair attracted him?! "I could," the Genie explained. "But well, you don't want to do that. I'm sure you would prefer to have this come naturally...." The Genie looked at Harry thoughtfully, how could he make Harry wish his downfall? Make this Good Soul find death? If he was too stupid to find himself, then he, the Blue Genie would help him.

"Now, what about to have your parents back? Have the massacre at Godric's Hollow never happen."

"I could?" asked Harry expectantly. "I could really make Mum and Dad come back? And Sirius?" Hope was growing in his heart, the warm feeling of glee filling his head with new and exiting pictures of happiness with the people he loved. Yes, he would do that. Luck was finally on his side.

"Then I wish," started Harry, dreams filling his head. "I wish that Voldermort never killed my parents, that Sirius never died."

The Genie frowned in thought as the seconds passed by, Harry still waiting.

"What are you waiting for?" asked Harry, frightened that this was all a fluke. "Are or aren't you a Genie? I want my wish granted!"

"That's technically two wishes, not one. But well, I can make an exception." A sly grin slipped onto his features. "Harry Potter," he said, his red form growing until it filled the whole space of the bathroom menacingly, "Wish granted."

Harry blinked. Once, twice. The Genie had disappeared back into his lamp. Other than that, everything seemed perfectly normal. Yes, perfectly normal. He was still in the bathroom, he could still here the drip-drip of water, and still needed to have a wee. Wouldn't he know, or even feel somewhere inside himself that would tell him that his parents were alive, and so was Sirius? His earlier pressing need forgotten, he left the bathroom after have hidden the lamp in his robes.

It was then that he saw the difference. What he first noticed, marching down the corridor to the staircases was the lack of paintings on the wall. And when he finally arrived to the staircases, it was the green and silver Slytherin banners that hung there that managed to turn his stomach into knots.

"What the bloody hell is this?"

He continued his way down, crossing students clothed in Slytherin robes who he'd never seen. Never did he see any red and orange scarves, or blue Hufflepuff ones. Dark paintings hung on the walls instead, portraits of obscure wizards and places. This was NOT what he had expected.

He had to find Ron, and Hermione, and his parents if they were indeed alive. However, before he got to the Great Hall, he caught his reflection in a nearby mirror. And it struck him hard.

He slowly approached it, having difficulty apprehending what he saw. It couldn't be. His glasses that used to hide his green eyes had disappeared. His hands flew instinctively to his forehead and found no scar. But what worried him the most was the black and green tie that hung around his neck. This couldn't be good.

He scurried away, his head slightly dizzy. Before he was able to go any further, a strong grip caught his arm.

"Harry, finally!" said a tall man, his eyes intent on Harry.

Harry had lost the ability to speak altogether. He couldn't believe his eyes. "I..." he babbled, his mouth trying to make some word of some sort. What should he say? If this was a dream, it was happy one, he was sure of it. He instantly forgot the green banners, the coldness of the air, even the genie. "Dad," Harry finally blurted out, green eyes round.

"Ron is waiting for you to go and see Hogsmeade. You've been talking about it all week. What are you waiting for? And that pretty girl Cho Chang will be there too. You can't miss the opportunity, Son."

"Ron? Cho?"

Before he knew it, Harry was whisked off to the Great Oak doors, cloak on his shoulders, where Ron took the liberty of dragging his friend outside and into the waiting carriages. And as they bobbled away, he watched the form of his father, bathed in the light of the Great hall slowly disappear.

He couldn't believe it! His Dad! Here, alive! Was Lily there too?

"Don't be such a baby, your father will still be there when you get back," snapped Ron. "I've been waiting for you for a half an hour! What kept you, mate?" He watched Harry, finding his friend a little out of character. "What's up with you?"

Harry pulled his gaze away from the retreating castle back to Ron. "Nothing, Ron." A grin quickly slipped onto his features. "I think I've never been so happy."

"Then wait till we get to Hogsmeade!"

Ron and Harry were sitting at a table in a corner, mugs of Butterbear warming their hands up. There was loud talking in the Three Bromsticks that night, and roaring laughter from the other side. Bats would swoop down from the ceiling and over their heads, screaching. Seemed there were more cobwebs than usual too. Ron had eyed the spiders wearily, but had finally decided to dismiss them, trying to look brave and 'conquer his fear'. Harry was glad to have Ron, but something was troubling him.

"Where's Hermione? Is she locked up in the library working again?" asked Harry, missing his bushy brown haired friend.

"Hermy-what?" asked Ron, scratching his head.

"You know, Hermione," Harry repeated, but he suddenly dreaded that Ron actually didn't know who he was speaking about.

"Never heard of this girl before," said Ron. He didn't know her, Harry felt his heart sink. Then he still had to meat her maybe. "Where did you meet her?" asked Ron, a sly grin spreading. "Been cheating on Cho?"

Harry choked on his Butterbear. Cho was his girlfriend? How odd was that! He remembered his first –wet- kiss with her, and the disastrous Valentine date he'd had. The Cherubs and the pink confetti. Harry wondered if she still liked those. Cho? She was a nice, very pretty (he admitted) person, but well... No thank you!

Seeing that Harry didn't really want to talk about it, Ron changed subject. "Heard about the Death Eater attack in London?" Harry missed the small smile.

"Death Eaters in London? What's the Ministry doing?" asked Harry stricken. "When?"

"Oh, come on. Don't look all surprised. I know it's your Dad that organised it!" said Ron, looking almighty pleased with himself to have discovered something that his friend had been hiding from him.

Harry paled. "What do you mean my Dad organised it?" Wheels were turning in his mind fast.

"There was a nest of Rebel Mudbloods in Downing Street. Going to get them cleaned up and ready for the Dementor Camps up North. Said there's a convoy of them passing through Hogsmeade tonight. Want to go and see? Harry, why you're looking at me like that?"

"I'm going to sound a lot like Percy and your parents... What are you saying? You can't be serious. This is a bad joke, Ron. Stop it now." Where had his friend gone? Who was this sitting in front of him?

"Harry, are you feeling ok? My parents died a long time ago. It's not me mentioning Mudblood souls being sucked away that's making you all touchy, is it?"

Before Ron had the time to say anything more, Harry had jumped from his stool at him, bringing his fist up. Ron flew to ground, punched violently by Harry. But before he could get another shot, Harry was pulled away by arms, restraining him back so he wouldn't make anymore harm. "I'll kill you!" Seeing it was no use, Harry shrugged the people away and stormed out into the street.

Harry pulled his cloak closer against the cold. Wind made his curls dance on his head, pricking his cheeks mercilessly as he marched away, feeling his insides curl. Strange music soon came to his ears, like the tinting of bells. He made his way towards it, and found a group of exited students, crowded around a bright cloaked man, standing on a podium of some sort.

"Discover the monsters of our time! On exhibition from Monday to Friday in Town. Don't miss it!!" he was saying, his voice booming over the bobbing heads. Harry approached, walking through the crowd to get closer.

"They're UGLY! They're BIG! Enough to frighten your friends and make their hair stand on ends!"

"What are they? What are they?" squeaked a small First Year, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

The man bent down and before he said anything, he let the crowd silence in anticipation. "Werewolves!" There were cries of glee and smiles on the children's faces. Harry had his insides freezing by now. "And Half-Giants!"

Harry found it impossible to witness the scene any more. "YOU'RE THE MONSTERS!" he yelled in a burst of anger. All stopped talking to stare at Harry with dread. "What difference is there between you, and any Werewolf! I know a Werewolf myself! He's been the best teacher I've ever had! And I've had a Half-Giant that has been a parent to me more than anyone else! You're the monsters." His eyes were flashing green with rage as he said this.

"Did you hear what he said?- Defending Giants- he's crazy- Isn't that Harry Potter?" A cloud of whispers erupted, accompanied with side-glances and sniggers. Laughter soon followed. "Potter is a Giant Lover! Potter is a Giant Lover!"

"I have a cousin who's hairier than any Werewolf, do you think Potter would fancy her?"

Clenching his teeth, he left the crowd for more quiet streets. He could have hexed them all if he'd really had the will. What New World was he living in? Ron's parents dead, his best friend had turned out to be a pureblood lover. Circuses were displaying Werewolves and Half-Giants as animals; atrocities to come see and have a good laugh about! Harry dreaded what he'd discovered next.

But what worried him most was the little information that he'd got out of Ron. His own father, a Death Eater? How could it be possible? Was his mother one too? Mudbloods had been captured and were now going to have their souls sucked out by Dementors. And if Hermione was one of them?

He quickly made his way towards the Hogsmeade Train Station, hands in his cloak pockets, shooting in the leaves, making them fly wherever he passed. But something else made him stop in his tracks. A large dog was scurrying about. A large black dog. It couldn't be... Harry started following it discreetly, looking out for anyone else.

It would walk in the shadows of the night, not daring once to pass under the bright lights that were cast by lamps that hung from the houses, which would creek and waver with the wind. He soon discovered more moving shadows, if his eyes didn't trick him.

A disturbing fourth chapter. Ready to know the rest?