SUMMARY
After spending half his life trying to rid the world of Voldemort, Harry Potter finally succeeds. However, the price has been high. Too high. Unfortunately, when Harry risks his life to go back and 'do things right', something goes wrong.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I would like to thank…
S'TarKan – It was his story that gave me the idea for this story's starting point. Also, if you want to know what kind of Harry Potter my main character is (they've had similar experiences, losses etc), or just want to read a good Harry Potter fanfic, then read 'Harry Potter & the Nightmares of Futures Past'.
The creators of QUANTUM LEAP and SLIDERS – Anyone who's seen either of these shows might recognise elements of both shows central ideas in this story. The situation my Harry gets himself into was indeed partially inspired by the central features of both of these shows.
This website – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see.
J.K. Rowling – They are her characters after all.
CHAPTER FIVE – The Unburnt Burrow.
As the blue aura faded and Harry took another bite out of the apple in his hand, he wondered where he had been taken this time.
Looking around, he quickly realised he was standing in the middle of a field full of what Harry guessed to be Barley. What the hell am I doing in a field? Harry wondered, taking another bite out of the apple as he tried to catch a glimpse of any signs of civilisation through the tall grass.
Suddenly, Harry heard something. It sounded a bit like yelling, like one long yell, as if someone or something was flying through the air and was about to make a very unpleasant landing. Harry soon figured out what the yelling sound might be as it became louder. Looking up, he saw something hurtling towards him. He dived out of the way as the noisy something landed on the ground with a thump and a loud groan.
Getting back to his feet, Harry watched the something slowly stagger to its feet as it tried not to fall back down from dizziness. No way, Harry thought, staring at the Gnome that had almost collided with him. Looking in the direction from which the Gnome had come, Harry began to make his way through the long grass, ignoring another gnome as it landed nearby. As Harry emerged from within the Barley, his suspicions were confirmed.
Standing in the garden of The Burrow were Fred, George and Ron Weasley, busy doing their least favourite chore – degnoming the garden.
Harry stared at the strangely unstable looking house in wonder – the last time he had seen this house, it was engulfed in flames. That had been over ten years ago, but Harry still thought about the first house he had ever truly felt at home in from time to time. Seeing it still standing gave Harry a strange feeling of both elation and sorrow.
As Harry stood there, distracted by his own thoughts, he failed to notice the three Weasley boys staring right at him.
"Is that…?" wondered Fred.
"It can't be…" dismissed George.
"Harry?" exclaimed Ron.
The three of them stood, staring at the figure in the leather jacket who, even from this distance, looked a lot like their friend.
"How can it be?" asked George. "He's too old to be Harry."
"Too tall as well," said Fred.
"His hair's a lot longer than Harry's too," added George.
"But I suppose there is a resemblance," noted Fred.
"What do you think we should do?" asked Ron uncertainly.
"Maybe we should just ask him who he is," suggested Fred. "I mean, if he is Harry, then we invite him in and find out what he's doing here and why he looks like that."
"And if it's not Harry?" asked Ron.
"Then we invite him in anyway," said Fred. "I mean, he does look kind of lost to me."
"Excellent idea, brother of mine," agreed George.
"I don't know," muttered Ron. "Y'know what Mum always says about inviting strangers into the house…"
"And since when does Ickle Ronniekins care about what Mum says?" grinned Fred.
"Or is Ickle Ronniekins scared of the big bad mystery man?" added George, as Ron's ears began to redden.
"I'm not scared!" muttered Ron defiantly.
"Then what are we waiting for?" enquired Fred.
Harry was distracted from his thoughts when he noticed the twins approaching him, closely followed by Ron. Oh crap! thought Harry as he realised he had been standing there in broad daylight for all to see. Why the hell do I keep making these stupid mistakes? he wondered angrily.
"Harry?" said one of the twins cautiously. "Is that you?"
They've recognised me already? Wonderful…
"Who?" said Harry, feigning ignorance.
The three boys looked at him suspiciously. "You're not Harry Potter?" asked the other twin.
"Potter?" exclaimed Harry. "No! Of course not."
"So who are you?" asked the first twin, who Harry guessed correctly to be George.
"My name is Gary," answered Harry, using one of the many aliases he had used over the last thirteen years. "Gary Cooper."
The three Weasleys were now uncertain. This stranger in Muggle clothes looked so much like a slightly older Harry, but now they weren't so sure. After all, it was much more likely that this stranger was just that – a random stranger who had just emerged from the Barley field beside their house. However, Fred suddenly caught a glimpse of something that answered one question, but raised so many others.
"So, 'Gary'," he grinned. "Mind telling us what you're doing standing around here, staring at our house?"
Harry sighed. "It's kind of a long story…" he began.
"Like the story of how you got that scar?" interrupted George, having just seen what his brother had seen.
"Scar?" said Harry, desperately trying to maintain the charade that he wasn't Harry Potter.
"Yeah," continued Fred. "Y'know, the one on your forehead that looks suspiciously like the famous Harry Potter scar."
"The one you're trying to hide beneath that mop of yours," added George.
And again, that bloody scar gives me away, thought Harry bitterly. God, what I wouldn't give to be a Metamorphmagus at times like this.
"Harry?" said Ron, having stayed silent thus far. "Is it really you?"
Harry sighed and nodded.
Ron stared at him wide-eyed. "Bloody hell! What happened to you, mate?"
Harry looked at this reality's version of his best friend curiously. He thinks I'm this reality's Harry. I guess that means my other self must be at the Dursleys, he reasoned. I suppose that's probably for the best. I mean, if Mrs Weasley were to come out here and see two Harry Potters, she'd probably have a heart attack.
"Maybe we should go inside," suggested Fred, when Harry didn't respond.
"Then Harry here can perhaps explain why he looks like he's old enough to leave Hogwarts," added George as they led Harry into the house.
XxXxXxXxXxX
"What are you three doing back inside?" exclaimed Mrs Weasley as her sons entered the kitchen. "Surely you can't be finished degnoming the garden already…" She stopped when she realised her sons weren't alone. At first, she didn't recognise the long haired figure in the leather jacket. "Who is this?" she demanded. "What have I told you about inviting strangers into the house?"
"What about friends?" grinned George.
"Famous friends," added Fred with an equally ridiculous grin.
Mrs Weasley stood there looking at her two sons, then at the figure standing behind them. "Harry?" she gasped when she saw the distinctive scar on his forehead, dropping the plate she was holding. Ignoring the now shattered plate on the floor, she took a few steps forward and stood before Harry. He was a lot taller and his hair a lot longer than when she had last seen him as he and her sons had got off the Hogwarts Express nearly a month ago, but it was definitely him. "Is it really you?" she asked, echoing her youngest son's words.
Harry nodded.
"But… you…" stuttered Mrs Weasley. "You look so much… older…"
"It's complicated," sighed Harry.
"Well," interjected Fred. "I for one am interested…"
"In how you've ended up..." continued George.
"Looking older than our esteemed brother…" added Fred.
"Perfect Prefect Percy," finished George.
"And why you tried to lie to us," said Ron suddenly. "Gary," he added sarcastically.
Harry looked at Ron and nodded. "As I said, it's complicated," he said as he sat down at the kitchen table.
"So," said Fred. "What happened?"
"I'm going to go with 'botched spell turned you into an eighteen year old," said George.
Fred shook his head. "He looks more nineteen to me," he said. "But I think I'll go with 'time traveller', am I right Harry?"
Harry smirked at the twins. "Yours is the closest," he said, nodding at Fred. "There's a lot more to it than that though."
"You're from the future?" gasped Ron. "So that's why you said you weren't Harry, right?"
"Actually, in a way, I'm not," said Harry. "At least, not the one you know."
"What?" Ron almost shouted. "What in the bloody hell are you talking about?"
"Ronald Billius Weasley!" Mrs Weasley snapped. "I will not tolerate you using such language in this house!" She turned to Harry. "Sorry dear." she apologised. "Go on."
Harry looked at her in amazement. Unbelievable! I've pretty much said that I'm not the Harry Potter they know and yet she's still acting as if everything's normal.
After gathering his thoughts, Harry took a deep breath and began to explain about his being from an alternate reality, hoping that no one would ask the obvious question.
"But Harry…" said Mrs Weasley, after he had told them of how his plan had gone wrong. "Why were you trying to go back in time?"
Bugger! grimaced Harry as she asked this. Oh well, I guess someone would've got the truth out of me sooner or later. "Simple," he said plainly. "There was nothing left for me to live for."
There was a simultaneous gasp from around the table.
"But…"
"What…"
"How…"
"It doesn't matter!" said Harry, raising his voice slightly. "What matters is that, for now, I'm here, okay?"
No one said anything.
Bloody hell thought Harry. That's twice now I've shown the subtlety of a Hungarian Horntail. "Sorry," he said, lowering his voice. "I just… don't really want to talk about it right now. Not here," The memory of The Burrow as it burned flashed before Harry's eyes when he said that. The others seemed to understand what he was getting at and said nothing.
Just then, they heard a gasp at the kitchen door. As Harry turned to see who it was, though he had a feeling he knew who it was already, he saw a familiar flash of red hair as the girl disappeared. Harry stared at the doorway where Ginny Weasley had just been standing, remembering the first time she had done that, nearly eighteen years ago.
"Ginny," said Ron, misinterpreting Harry's glance as being one of confusion."She's been talking about you… Harry, all summer," he explained, correcting himself as he said Harry's name.
Harry nodded as he remembered Ginny's childhood crush on him, trying not to wince at the singing valentine his other self would probably receive in about half a year's time.
"Yeah," agreed Fred. "Everything's 'Harry this' or 'Harry that', ever since she saw you… our you, on Platform Nine & Three-Quarters…"
"Fred!" scolded Mrs Weasley. "Go on, get out if you insist on making fun of your sister. Plus, I seriously doubt you boys have finished degnoming the garden. Go on, both of you," she commanded, addressing both Fred and George.
The twins nodded glumly and left the kitchen, knowing that it was pointless arguing with their mother. Ron stayed put, having not been told to join them. He looked at Harry curiously. "Y'know, you look different without your glasses," he noted.
"You mean these ones?" said Harry, pulling out a glasses case from his pocket.
"Oh," said Ron. "But why're you not wearing them?"
"I don't need them as much as I used to," explained Harry. "When I was about twenty, Hermione found this old spell that improved my eyesight a lot better than the one she found when we were at Hogwarts. I still need glasses if I'm gonna be reading a book or something, but not for other stuff,"
"Twenty?" said Ron, slightly confused until he remembered that Harry had said he was thirty years old, even though he didn't look it. "Oh. Right."
"You're not hungry, are you Harry?" asked Mrs Weasley suddenly.
Harry was about to refuse, when he realised that he was actually quite hungry – that was why he had grabbed that apple from the Potter's kitchen before he had 'moved on'. He immediately realised for the first time that he no longer had the apple. Must've dropped it when that Gnome nearly KO'd me. "Oh. Um… actually, I am, sort of…"
"Say no more," interrupted Mrs Weasley as she turned around and went to add some more food to the breakfast she was already cooking, pausing to 'reparo' the plate she had dropped earlier as she did so.
"Harry?" asked Ron suddenly. "I don't suppose you could tell me why our Harry hasn't been replying to out letters, could you?"
Harry looked at Ron for a second. Better make sure first, he thought. "You're about to start second year, right?" he asked.
Ron nodded slightly, wondering why Harry was asking. Harry then mumbled something that sounded like "Dobby," which confused Ron even more. "What?" he said.
Harry shook his head. "His mail's being blocked by a House-Elf," Harry explained. "Long story," he added, seeing Ron's confusion grow even more.
"So he won't have got the stuff we've sent for his birthday?" said Ron.
Harry nodded. Suddenly, something occurred to him. Birthday? He turned to Ron. "Um... You guys weren't thinking of going to check on him, were you?" he asked, trying not to sound worried.
"Yeah," answered Ron. "We were going to go and bring him here on Friday if he hadn't answered soon."
Harry shook his head. "I'd go sooner if I were you," he advised. "In my reality, the House-Elf decided to ruin a business party my uncle had going. When that happened, the Dursleys locked me in my room and threw away the key. Even had a cat flap installed so they could hand me a little food every now and again. Hell, if you and the twins hadn't shown up in that old flying Anglia of yours, I probably would've starved to death…"
He immediately regretted saying that when he heard Mrs Weasley drop another plate. "Oh, Merlin," he heard her whisper in a horrified voice before watching her leave the kitchen.
Ron watched his mother leave the kitchen and grinned. "Nice one," he said. "We've been trying to convince Mum and Dad to go and get you for ages, but they just kept insisting we'd go and get you on Friday." He stopped when he saw the serious look on Harry's face. "You weren't kidding, were you?"
Harry shook his head.
"Oh," mumbled Ron. "Sorry."
XxXxXxXxXxX
Several hours later, Harry arrived at The Burrow, having just been collected by a very worried looking Mr and Mrs Weasley and taken to St Mungo's. He tried not to grimace as a fresh batch of pain emanated from one of his ribs. I really wish Uncle Vernon would just buy a punching bag, he thought irritably. Then again, if he did, then he might have done a lot more damage…
He was shown into the living room and told to sit down. Everyone then left, except for Mrs Weasley, who told him that there was someone who wanted to talk to him and that he should thank him for warning them about what the Dursleys had done.
"What? What d'you mean?" Harry stammered as Mrs Weasley left the room. "Who warned you?"
"I did."
Harry turned and saw a figure standing in the doorway to the kitchen. His hair was long and dark, hanging untidily down the sides of his face, some of it in his eyes. His eyes were a dull green and seemed to convey a feeling of loss. He was wearing a black leather jacket, which hung loosely on him but seemed to go well with his dark blue jeans. Something about him seemed very familiar, but Harry couldn't remember ever seeing this person before. Have I seen him at Hogwarts? Harry wondered. He looks like he could be in sixth or seventh year, but…
He stopped in mid-thought when he saw a very familiar looking scar on the stranger's forehead. He gaped at the stranger disbelievingly, his mouth hanging open.
"It's always the give-away, isn't it?" said the stranger in an amused voice.
"Who…" stuttered Harry, finally finding his voice. "Who are you?"
The stranger with the lightning shaped scar sighed. "It's a long story."
"Is there a short version?" asked Harry.
The stranger in the leather jacket smirked. "Alright. I'll try," he said. "I'm you. That is, I am Harry Potter, just from a different reality."
Different reality? thought Harry incredulously. God, I'm never gonna get used to all this weird Wizard stuff.
"Don't worry," said the stranger. "You will."
"Wh…" stammered Harry. "How did you…?"
The Harry Potter from a 'different reality' tapped his forehead with his index and middle fingers. "Legilimency," he said.
"Legili-what?" asked Harry confused.
"Thought reading," the 'other' Harry elaborated.
Harry sat there, ignoring the pain in his chest, trying to figure out what he was supposed to think. "So what you're saying," said Harry after a slight pause, "Is you're another version of me, from another universe, that can read minds."
The stranger shrugged. "Pretty much."
"Okay," said Harry uncertainly. "So how'd you know about…"
"About what the Dursleys were doing to you?" finished the older looking Harry. "Simple. They did the same to me when I was your age." He looked at Harry's chest. "Though my Uncle Vernon was probably a bit more concerned with keeping up appearances with the neighbours than yours was."
Harry nodded, trying to ignore his three formerly cracked ribs, which had just been healed, but would still hurt for a while. "Y'know, the Healer said if I hadn't been seen to when I had, I would've ended up a lot worse off."
The other Harry nodded. "That must be it then," he muttered.
"Huh?"
"Nothing," mumbled Harry.
There was an awkward silence. Harry looked at the younger him, trying to figure out how to answer the boy's next question, if he ever plucked up the courage to actually ask it. Eventually, he did.
"So, uh, why are you here?" the younger Harry asked. "I mean, if you're not from this… reality…"
"Well, like I said, it's a long story," said Harry. "I suppose the others could tell you roughly how I got here. But I guess you have a right to get the story straight from me."
He sat down in a nearby chair and began to speak. "Basically, what happened is that I tried to go back in time and correct a few mistakes. Unfortunately, as you probably already know, nothing we ever try to do ever goes according to plan."
The other Harry nodded – the 'Harry Potter luck' was almost as much of a curse as fame he had to endure for being the 'Boy-Who-Lived'.
"Anyway, the whole plan revolved around my death," continued Harry. "I would use the Avada Kedavra on myself and my memories would go back in time and hopefully merge with my eleven-year-old self. But, typical Harry Potter luck, just as I tried to put this plan of mine into action, I found out that the Avada Kedavra doesn't have any effect on me."
"You mean… the Killing Curse doesn't… kill you?" stammered the younger Harry, stunned by this revelation.
"Well, it didn't kill me when I tried it, so I guess I am immune to it," replied Harry. "Of course, I'm not exactly gonna try it again anytime soon and I wouldn't recommend you trying it out either."
Harry watched his other self smirk at his attempt to lighten the mood of the conversation. Good, thought Harry. Just don't ask me…
"So why'd you want to go back in time anyway?"
Bugger, sighed Harry. "I… well… uh." He stopped, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "There was nothing left for me in my time." he said quietly.
"Nothing?" queried the younger Harry, hoping he had misunderstood his other self's answer.
Harry nodded sadly. "The Second War took away everyone and everything I ever cared about," he said. "By the time I finally defeated Voldemort, everyone was long dead." He paused slightly before continuing. "I thought if I could go back and do things differently, I could make things better. But I guess that was just too much to ask for…"
XxXxXxXxXxX
"What did 'e say?" murmured Fred from behind the living room door.
"Dunno," responded George.
"He said he wanted to go back and do things differently, I think," answered Ron.
"Ssshhh!" hissed Ginny. "They're still talking."
XxXxXxXxXxX
"You do realise that the twins're probably right outside the door, listening in, right?" said the younger Harry.
The older Harry shrugged. "Doesn't matter – you'll probably tell them about this conversation anyway."
"Is that another example of your thought-reading?" grinned Harry's other self.
"Nope," said Harry, returning the grin. "I just know that I would have done the same. I always did."
"Did," repeated the other Harry, quietly. It suddenly hit him, what the Harry in the leather jacket had just said – he had lost everyone. His versions of the Weasleys, Hermione, Dumbledore, everyone at Hogwarts, all of them were dead – all because of Voldemort, if what this other him was saying was true. I can't let that happen, he vowed. I won't let that happen! "I don't suppose you could tell me what went wrong for you, could you?" he asked.
"I wish I could," said Harry. "But I don't think I've got much time. I'll give you this bit of advice though – don't be afraid to accept the help of others. Believe me, all it does is hurt the feelings of others and makes things harder for you."
The younger Harry nodded.
"And don't isolate yourself from people in the hope they'll not suffer because of you," Harry added. "Especially not from the person you love, whoever that may end up being in this reality."
He felt the picture in his jacket pocket and tried not to think of Ginny.
"Because it didn't work," continued Harry. "She died anyway."
"Who did?" the other Harry asked in a quiet voice.
Harry took the picture out of his pocket and handed it to his other self. "Six months after this picture was taken, she was dead." He breathed sharply, the memory of Ginny dying in his arms among the ruins of Hogwarts flowing through his mind.
Harry's other self looked at the picture curiously. He immediately recognised himself, same scruffy hair, same glasses, same scar, sitting beside an almost familiar looking redhead with soft, freckled skin and brown eyes, her arms wrapped around his other self's shoulders.
Where have I seen her before? he wondered. Well, she'll be a lot younger than she is in this picture… Suddenly, he realised that he had in fact seen a younger version of this girl before. Nearly a month ago, as he got off the Hogwarts Express at Platform Nine & Three-Quarters, he had seen her standing alongside her mother, waiting to greet her brothers and hoping to catch a glimpse of 'him' – she was probably in this house right at that moment.
"Ginny?" he gasped, staring at the picture then at the other Harry in the leather jacket.
The Harry in the leather jacket took the picture back and looked at it. "I thought if I broke off our relationship, then Voldemort would leave her alone and she wouldn't get hurt." His voice was starting to shake slightly. "But it didn't make any difference. Voldemort led a Death Eater attack on Hogwarts and Ginny was wounded during the fighting – she only lived long enough to die just after I found her among the rubble…"
XxXxXxXxXxX
One the other side of the door, the three brothers looked at their sister, who, rather than going red as the Weasleys tended to do, was starting to go pale. She ignored them – several conflicting voices in her mind were contending for her attention.
You're dead? exclaimed one. Oh Merlin, Mum'll kill you if she finds out you get yourself killed!
But it's not you he's talking about, reasoned another. He's talking about some other you.
What about what he just said? interjected a third voice. Y'know, about you being the one he loved?
But our Harry barely knows you, another voice pointed out. I mean, our Harry might not even like you like this other one does.
"… look after her, alright?" she heard the other Harry say behind the door.
She froze when she heard their Harry's answer. "Alright," he said in a quiet voice. "I'll keep an eye on her."
Did he just…? asked one voice.
I think he did, replied another voice.
Is he talking about…? said another.
Maybe he does care! thought another one.
"Ginny?" said Ron. "Are you okay?"
She looked at her brother and nodded. "Yeah. I think so. I just…"
Suddenly, the four Weasleys heard a strange sound emanating from the living room. They burst through the door, just in time to witness the Harry Potter who had lost everything disappear in a blinding flash of pale blue light.
-
Author's Notes
Well, first of all, I wrote this while sitting in a hospital bed while waiting for/recovering from an operation, so be gentle if it's no good. Personally, I'm considering this a filler chapter while I get my thoughts together.
I'd also like to thank you all for the very encouraging feedback...
Selfless!Harry, eh? I don't think I've seen that one before. Does that mean I've become a trendsetter?
Good news for Marquerida, who hoped that my Harry will stay in a reality for more than one chapter – I'm currently on the third chapter of the next reality, (One that sets the scene, the other two featuring The Lone Traveller.). Also, as I'm writing, I'm hearing a voice in the back of my mind yelling Spin-off, which I might do if the next reality goes down well. Plus, there's always the possible story of William 'The Wandless Wonder' Potter…