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 anyone wants 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 S'TarKan's '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 ELEVEN – Child of the Streets.
"Oi!" said a voice as Harry felt his leg being nudged by someone's foot.
Harry opened his eyes and found that he was no longer in the middle of a forest. Instead, he was sitting in an alleyway between a skip and a dustbin. He looked up to see who was addressing him. It was a policeman – a Muggle policeman.
"Alright there, sunshine?" he said in a sarcastically enthusiastic voice. "Had a good kip, have you?"
"Um... yeah, I guess," mumbled Harry. "Wasn't too bad."
"Well, that's good to hear," replied the policeman in a still sarcastic voice. "Alright, come on. Get up and get out of here. Your place far or do you need a lift home?"
"Um... no. No, I'm fine, thanks," stammered Harry as he got up.
"You sure?" asked the policeman. He looked at Harry suspiciously. "You do have a home to go to, don't you?"
"Well, uh…" said Harry. "No, not really…"
"Oh," interrupted the policeman. "Okay. Just don't let me find you sleeping on the street again. We've got enough kids sleeping on the streets as it is without anyone else joining in."
"Don't worry," nodded Harry. "I probably won't be around here for long."
"Fair enough," relented the policeman. "Good day."
"Yeah, you too," said Harry as the policeman turned to walk away.
Blimey, that's all we need, thought PC Jack Davis. Yet another homeless kid sleeping on the streets and causing trouble. As he left the alleyway, he turned and saw that the long-haired youth he'd just been talking to had already gone. Something about that guy seemed familiar though...
XxXxXxXxXxX
Harry looked at his watch as he walked along the busy street. Yet again, his watch had somehow synchronised itself with the current reality and indicated the date as being the 30th of August. Oh well, now all I have to do is find out where I am and what year it is. He started looking around him. He was in the middle of a city, that much he had figured out, but which one? It might have been London, but then again, it could just as likely be somewhere else like Manchester or Birmingham, assuming he was even in England. Not long afterwards he spotted a road sign depicting a roundabout with branches towards places like Watford, St Albans and Reading. Must be in London then, concluded Harry. Well, at least I know where I am now, but I still need to find out why I'm here…
Suddenly, Harry saw something out of the corner of his eye. He turned and saw a figure in a black cloak, watching him. He must be a wizard, thought Harry. Maybe I can get some answers from him. He started walking towards the cloaked figure, only for the stranger to start walking rapidly away once he realised he had been spotted.
"Hey, wait!" called Harry as he quickened his own pace. "I just want to talk! Wait!" He started to run, but when he had nearly caught up with the stranger, something happened that Harry didn't expect.
As the cloaked figure rounded a corner, Harry noticed that the stranger had started to glow blue. A few seconds late, there was a flash and the cloaked figure vanished.
Harry stood there, dumbstruck. What the…? Did he just…? No, it couldn't be…
As Harry stood there, distracted by what he had just seen, he suddenly felt a hand dip into his jacket pocket. In the blink of an eye, he seized the wrist of the would-be thief, kneed him in the stomach and threw the pickpocket onto the pavement. The thief scrambled to his feet surprisingly quickly and faced Harry with a surprised expression on his face. Harry looked at the thief with a look of equal surprise, all thought of the cloaked stranger pushed to the back of his mind for now – the thief was just a boy. Oh my god, he's just a kid. thought Harry incredulously. I nearly got my pocket picked by a fucking ten-year old! He watched as the boy regard him curiously. After a few seconds, the boy spoke.
"That was pretty good mister," he gasped, clutching his stomach.
What the fuck is he doing? wondered Harry. He's just tried to pickpocket me and been found out. He should be running as fast as his little legs'll take him. "Um… thanks," he said uncertainly. "Uh… shouldn't you be, y'know, running like hell before I go to the police or something?"
The boy's eyes widened slightly. "You're not gonna, are you?" he said with a hint of panic in his voice.
Harry shook his head. "No point. I don't really have anything worth nicking anyhow."
"Oh," said the boy, who was still looking at him curiously, particularly at Harry's forehead. There was an awkward silence, which seemed to annoy Harry. Oh for crying out loud, why does everyone have to stare at this bloody scar. I mean, it's bad enough that it usually triggers people wanting autographs, but even Muggles have to stare at it…
"Hey, uh, you wouldn't be related to Harry, would you?" the boy suddenly asked.
"Harry?" said Harry. "Harry who?" Better make sure, thought Harry as he spoke.
"Just some guy I know with a scar on his head just like yours," answered the boy. "He looks a bit like you too. You're not his brother or somethin', are you?"
"That depends on who this 'Harry' is," responded Harry. "I mean, you're not exactly giving me much to go on. You could at least give me this guy's surname."
"What?" exclaimed the boy. "Oh, right. Sorry. Um, well, his name's Harry Potter, but most of us call him Jinx."
So he does know my other self, thought Harry. Wait a minute…
"Jinx?" queried Harry. Why the hell would anyone call me that, unless he had more of the 'Harry Potter luck' than I do.
"Uh, yeah," replied the boy. "Weird stuff kinda happens around him, mostly to our rivals and the plods..."
Plods? thought Harry for a second. Oh, right, the police.
"That's why everyone likes having him around," continued the boy. "He may not be 'Mr Socialite' but he's def'nitely a good luck charm for us."
Weird stuff? Yup, that definitely sounds like a younger me, concluded Harry. Especially if he's talking about accidental magic. "Harry Potter," he mumbled, nodding slightly.
"You know him?" said the boy.
"Maybe," answered Harry. "I was told I have a cousin called Harry, but I haven't seen him since he was a baby."
"You're… bloody hell, you are related to him, aren't you?" gasped the boy. "C'mon then. If you are a cousin or whatever, then he'll want to meet you. C'mon!"
Harry watched the boy run off in front of him. "C'mon," the boy called again. Guess I'd better follow him, thought Harry as he started half-running to catch up with the boy. Soon, the two were walking at a rapid pace.
"So what's your name?" asked the boy.
"Walter," answered Harry, calling on yet another of one of his aliases. "Walter Powell. But most folk just call me Walt. You?"
"My name's Mike Archer. Everyone calls me Mikey, though," responded the boy. "So what d'you know about Harry?"
"Well, if your Harry Potter is my cousin, then he's my Uncle James's son," answered Harry, the fabrication requiring little effort. "I was told he'd been sent to live with his Aunt and Uncle on his mother's side…"
"Oh, you mean the Dursleys?" replied Mike. "Harry ran away from them years ago. When they refused to take him back after the plods pick'd him up, he was sent to St Mary's. That's where we first met. It's where just about all of us met, come to think of it. After a while, we all got fed up of it and Harry suggested we just leave, so we did and we've been streetkids ever since."
Ran away from the Dursleys? thought Harry, remembering the times he had tried to run away himself, only to be taken back by the police or those 'strange people', who Harry now knew must have been wizards. Hold on. If he ran away, why didn't Dumbledore or someone take him back to the Dursleys? I mean, if he was in St Mary's Orphanage for a few years, then surely someone must have known. Then, as if that isn't bad enough, now I'm apparently one of those homeless kids that sleep on the streets. How could this be allowed to happen? What the hell's going on?
XxXxXxXxXxX
Eventually, Harry and Mike both arrived at what looked like a derelict old garage. Mike knocked on a door which looked like it was barely on its hinges.
"Who is it?" yelled a voice from behind the door.
"Mikey Archer," replied Mike.
The door opened slightly. "Hey there, Mikey," greeted another boy who Harry guessed to be about fifteen. The boy suddenly noticed Harry and straightened up slightly. "Who the fuck is this?" he exclaimed, glaring at Mike. "What've I told ya 'bout brining random people back here. He could be..."
"Cool it Gav," interrupted Mike. "He's not a plod or a social worker. He's here to see Harry."
"Harry?" said 'Gav', still holding the door half closed. "Christ, don't tell me he's another one of those weirdoes looking for him!"
"No," said Mike. "I think he's a relative."
Gav looked at Harry and opened the door a little wider. "You're related to Jinx?"
"Maybe," said Harry. "Won't be able to tell you until I see him for myself though."
Gav pondered for a few seconds before nodding hesitantly. "Alright, you can come in, but if you go to the plods afterwards, I swear I'll…"
"Yeah, yeah, I know," interrupted Harry, not in the mood for being threatened by a fifteen year old 'thug', as this 'Gav' was probably trying to sound like. "Look, I just want to see if this 'Harry Potter' is really related to me, alright. I'm not interested in paying any visits to the cop shop anytime soon, okay?"
Gav scowled at Harry but nodded and let Harry and Mike in.
"Hey, Har'!" yelled Mike. Several kids, mostly boys but some girls also, looked up briefly when they heard Mike's voice. Many of them stared at the stranger in the leather jacket and others started mumbling about 'that guy'. Only one person actually got up and went over to Mike, though this surprised no one, as Harry Potter and Mikey Archer were the best of friends.
"Hey Mike," said the young raven-haired boy as he approached them. "Half-inch anything good today?"
Mike shook his head and grinned. "No, but I've found somethin' you'll most def'nitely be int'rested in."
At first, young Harry didn't know what his friend meant, then he saw the unfamiliar figure in the leather jacket standing behind Mike. Who the…? he thought.
"He says his name's Walter Powell and that he reckons he's your cousin," continued Mike.
"What?" gasped the young Harry. "But… I… I… he's… what?"
Harry watched as his younger self tried desperately to say something. He suddenly felt a twinge of guilt. He's just been told he has family other than the Dursleys, he realised. But at some point I'll have to tell him the truth and he'll have got his hopes of there being other members of his family up for nothing.
Eventually, the younger Harry calmed down and looked at his 'cousin' with an incredibly shocked look on his face. Maybe I'd better get him somewhere where we can talk privately, thought Harry. He looked around the room and saw that everyone was staring in their direction, probably wondering what was going on. Their minds were broadcasting all sorts of questions through the room, which Harry couldn't help but notice because of his Legilimency, What's wrong with Jinx? and Whoa, is he Jinx's brother or something? being the main ones.
"Um, look, Harry," said Harry, addressing his other self. "Is there somewhere we can talk?" He looked at Mike. "Alone," he added. "No offence, Mike."
"No… no, it's… it's okay," stuttered Mike. "I… I understand."
As Mike walked away, the younger Harry spoke. "C'mon," he instructed quietly before leading Harry to a room at the back of the building, probably an old office or something similar. They both sat down on a couple of old armchairs that had been rescued from a skip. The younger Harry looked at the stranger in the leather jacket, closed his eyes and breathed in sharply. "Is it true?" he asked after a few seconds pause. "Are you really my cousin?"
Harry sighed. I'd better tell him the truth now and get it over with. "Look, I'm sorry I have to do this to you, kid, but I'm not your cousin." He lifted the hair that was covering his scar. "I'm you."
The young Harry sat there in silence, gaping at Harry's scar. "You're me?" he whispered after a long pause.
"Sort of," replied Harry.
"How?" asked the other Harry in an unnaturally quiet voice.
"Long story," said Harry, shaking his head. "Basically, I'm you but from an alternate reality."
"A what?" said the other Harry, his voice slightly louder this time.
"Have you ever watched any sci-fi?" Harry asked his other self. "Y'know, stuff like Star Trek, Stargate, Quantum Leap, Babylon 5, Sliders, that sort of thing?"
"Um… no. Not really," mumbled the other Harry.
"Well, an alternate reality is pretty much another universe where things are exactly the same, but with some differences, some slight, some major. For example, in my reality, I was forced to stay with the Dursleys for the whole of my childhood," explained Harry.
"No!" the younger Harry exclaimed involuntarily.
"Yeah, well, it wasn't exactly my choice," sighed Harry.
There was another awkward silence.
"But…" stammered the younger Harry. "If you're me, but from another universe or whatever, then how did you…" He stopped suddenly. "Oh my god…" he mumbled before suddenly getting up and rushing out of the room.
Harry quickly got up and followed his younger self, wondering what the boy was so worried about. He soon joined his younger self in a corner where Mike was sitting on top of one of two sleeping bags. This must be their space, thought Harry as he watched his other self rummaging through the few possessions he had. After a few seconds, the younger Harry held up and envelope and pulled out a letter.
"Hey, that's that weird letter you got a few weeks ago, isn't it?" said Mike.
"Yeah," said the younger Harry as he handed the letter to the older Harry.
Harry only had to glance at the letter to tell it was a Hogwarts letter. Hold on, he thought as he read the bottom of the letter. Please reply by the 30th of August? Wait a minute... He checked the date on his watch again to make sure. Shit, that's today! He looked at his younger self in sheer disbelief. Why the hell has no one come to find him? Christ, he probably thinks this letter's some kind of joke!
"Hey, Walt! What's up?" interjected Mike.
Harry ignored him. "You want to know if this is real, right?" he said, addressing his other self as he handed back the letter.
The other Harry nodded.
"It is," said Harry plainly.
"What?" exclaimed Mike. "Witchcraft and Wizardy? Magic? Platform Nine and Three-Quarters? We're supposed to believe that all that's real?"
"Yes Mike, it is real!" Harry found himself shouting. By now, the others had began to gather around, wondering what was going on.
"Hey, what's goin' on here?" shouted Gav as approached them.
"Walt here reckons that weird letter Harry got is real," explained Mike.
"Y'what?" exclaimed another boy.
"Yeah right," said a girl.
"Prove it," said yet another boy.
"Alright," responded Harry, holding out his hand. There were several gasps and many people backed away when a ball of light suddenly appeared above Harry's palm.
"What the…?"
"You…"
"Blimey!"
"How did you…?"
"Bloody hell!"
"Cool!"
Harry clenched his fist and extinguished the light. What should I show them now? Harry wondered. Ah, I know… He then held out his hand above his head and heard yet more gasps as streams of light radiated from the ends of his fingers. The jets of light danced around them, between them, bathing them all in the glow of just about every colour imaginable. For a moment, the awe on the faces of the others reminded Harry of the first, and only, time he had performed the 'lightshow' to Ginny – that moment was probably one of the happiest he had ever seen her. It was also one of his happiest memories, as well as being his last true moment of happiness – a few days later, Dumbledore was dead and Harry had broken off their relationship in the hope that it would be safer for her, only for her to die in his arms less than six months later. As he ended the lightshow, he resisted the urge to take the picture that had been taken that day out of his pocket – now wasn't the time for dwelling on the past.
There was a long silence. Everyone was staring at both Harry and his other self. After a while, the others finally started talking.
"Wow!" exclaimed one girl. "How'd ya do that?"
"Yeah," agreed the boy standing beside her. "That was amazing!"
"Hold on," said another boy. "If he's Jinx's cousin or whatever, then does that mean Harry can do that to? I mean, it would explain all that weird stuff that always happens around him."
"Bloody hell!" said Mike, staring at the letter in his friend's hand. "You know what this means, Harry?"
"It's real," mumbled the younger Harry. He looked at the letter again. "Shit. It's too late now. The reply has to be in by today…"
"Don't worry about it," interrupted Harry. "I'll deal with it," He pointed to the envelope in Harry's hand. "You've still got the list of equipment, right?"
The other Harry put his hand in the envelope and pulled out another piece of paper. "Where'm I supposed to get all this stuff? And how? There's no way I'll be able to get anywhere enough dosh to get even one of these books, let alone a 'wand' or a 'cauldron'…"
"Don't worry," interrupted Harry. "I'll take you around Diagon Alley later. But first, I'd better take care of Dumbledore."
With that, he took a step backward so no one was too near him and Apparated away, triggering yet more shocked gasps from the group.
XxXxXxXxXxX
Well, Harry thought as he entered the main door of Hogwarts castle. Back again.
Another left, he thought as he rounded yet another corner, a few minutes later. And another right. He rounded another corner and stopped in front of a very familiar statue. And here we are. Now, what will his password be right now?
"Lemon Drop," he tried. Nothing happened.
He tried again. "Chocolate Frog." Again, nothing happened.
"Sherbet Lemon." Nothing.
"Um… Cockroach Cluster?" he suggested, using the ridiculous one that Dumbledore had once used. Again, nothing.
"Oh, for crying out… Gobstopper, chewing gum, bubblegum, Jelly Baby, Mint Humbug, Liquorice Bootlace." He kicked the statue in frustration. "Mars Bar, Dairy Milk, Wine Gum, After Eight, Toffee Apple…"
"Actually, I am quite partial to Orkney Fudge at the moment," said a familiar voice. Harry whirled around and faced Albus Dumbledore, trying to hide the look of surprise on his face. He noticed, however, that Dumbledore looked almost as surprised. Damn, he must've seen my scar or something, thought Harry, regretting his decision to give the prisoner in the last reality that book. Or maybe he just wasn't expecting some stranger in Muggle clothes to be outside his office trying to figure out which sweetie he's using as a password.
As always, there was a long and awkward silence before someone spoke.
"Um…" said Harry, trying to break the silence. "Hi."
Dumbeldore continued to look at Harry suspiciously. Good god, I never thought I'd see Dumbledore speechless, thought Harry. Then again, I never thought I'd ever see him alive again.
After a few seconds, Harry noticed Dumbledore's eyes twinkle, just like they always did. Just then, Harry felt something poking at his Occlumency, however this quickly stopped. "Perhaps we should sit down in my office," Dumbledore suggested when he realised he would not be able to confirm his suspicions through Legilimency, moving forward towards the entrance to his office. Harry nodded in agreement and said the password. Immediately, the statue began to move, revealing the entrance to the Headmaster's office.
They both entered and sat down.
"It appears that you have me at a disadvantage," said Dumbledore. "You appear to know me well enough to know the form of which my passwords take, yet I am uncertain as to your identity, Mr…"
"Who I am is unimportant at this stage," said Harry. "What is important is the fact that Harry Potter is currently living in a dilapidated garage somewhere in London and was completely unaware of his wizard heritage until fifteen minutes ago."
"Ah," said Dumbledore, sitting back in his chair slightly. "Yes, well, unfortunately we have been forced to deal with another problem that has arisen which concerns your alternate self, if I may be so bold as to hazard a guess to your identity."
"What?" exclaimed Harry. How the hell did he…? He looked at Dumbledore, who returned the look as he waited for confirmation of his suspicions. "It was the scar, wasn't it?" guessed Harry.
"It confirmed it," replied Dumbledore. "However, it was your eyes that made me suspect. They do look very much like…"
"My mother's, I know," interrupted Harry quickly. "But what made you say 'alternate'? Surely, 'future self' would have been a better guess."
"Perhaps so," agreed Dumbledore. "However, if you were indeed from the future, then you would know why your other self had been allowed to remain on the streets and why we haven't been able to address your situation until recently."
"Recently?" said Harry. "You mean you've sent people already?"
"Indeed," said Dumbledore. "However, he never seems to be in that 'dilapidated garage' as you call it. Also, his friends can be surprisingly difficult for Muggles."
Harry paused for a second and nodded. So that's what 'Gav' meant by 'another one of those weirdoes. "Alright. I can accept that, but why is he even in that garage in the first place? When I tried to run away, I was always returned to the Dursleys, either by the police or some 'strange person in robes'. What was different for this Harry?"
"Ah, yes," said Dumbledore quietly. "It seems that your relatives were more willing to take you back than… our Harry's were. I'm sure you know the reasons for being made to stay with you aunt, correct?"
"My mother's protection," mumbled Harry.
"Indeed," nodded Dumbledore. "However, in order for that protection to work, your relatives had to be willing to look after you, no matter how grudgingly. When our Harry's aunt and uncle refused to take him back in, we kept an eye on him from then on while he was in St Mary's and later, the streets, helping out whenever we could."
"The strange things that happened whenever the group was in trouble?" said Harry.
"Mostly our doing, though young Harry appears to have a natural talent for wandless magic, though he probably doesn't realise it," confirmed Dumbledore. "Fortunately, that will no longer be necessary."
"Why not?" asked Harry.
"The problem that has so distracted us recently has now been dealt with," replied Dumbledore. "Thanks to Professor Quirrell, we now have Peter Pettigrew in custody and Sirius Black is now free to care for young Harry once the school year is over."
"Wh… you've… Pettigrew… Quirrell…" spluttered Harry, not sure what to think. They've caught Pettigrew? Sirius's been pardoned? Quirrell caught Pettigrew!?!
"I see you were not expecting that piece of information," chuckled Dumbledore. "Indeed, had it not been for that cloaked figure who revealed the truth about young Master Weasley's pet, then we may never have learnt of young Pettigrew's true allegiances."
"Cloaked figure?" said Harry, as his thoughts suddenly returned to what he had seen shortly after his conversation with the policeman. "Hmm…"
"You know of this person?" queried Dumbledore.
Harry shook his head. "Just thinking of something I saw after I arrived here. In this reality, I mean." He paused for a few seconds. Could it have been the same guy? Harry wondered briefly, ignoring Dumbledore's second attempt at Legilimency. "There's no point trying. You wouldn't be able to find any additional info on your mysterious cloak-wearing friend, even if you could read my thoughts," he said without looking at Dumbledore. He paused again slightly before changing the subject. "You mentioned something about Quirrell. What happened?"
"Well, as soon as Arthur Weasley reported what had happened to the Ministry, a manhunt was initiated and several of our staff participated in the search. Quirinus, in particular, was most diligent. He cancelled his trip to Eastern Europe and joined the search for Peter. It was he who finally cornered him and prevented a repeat of the massacre for which Sirius Black was imprisoned for. In fact, he has just been awarded the Order of Merlin, Second Class for his actions."
So Quirrell hasn't been possessed by Voldemort, thought Harry as he heard this. Oh well, at least that'll be one less thing for this reality's Harry to worry about.
"Now that that's all been dealt with, we've been able to turn our attentions to young Harry," continued Dumbledore. "In fact, you just missed Minerva's departure."
"McGonagall?" said Harry. "Oh, that's fine, just as long as the others don't give her a hard time."
Dumbledore gave Harry a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"
"This Harry's a child of the street, as are his friends," elaborated Harry. "Trust me, street-kids like them are very loyal to one another."
"Indeed," said Dumbledore. "In that case, perhaps you would like to return to London and assist Minerva."
"Good idea," nodded Harry as he stood up. "By the way, I have told him the truth about who I am, but I haven't had a chance to tell him about anything else, including the prophecy, whatever that might be in this reality."
Dumbledore looked at him and said nothing. "Do not worry. I intend to tell young Harry the truth soon enough. I feel that he will probably be able to cope with the implications of Sybil's prophecy."
"Alright," nodded Harry. "It was good to see you again Albus. Take care."
"And you, Lone Traveller," replied Dumbledore.
Harry stared at Dumbledore for a few seconds before returning the old man's smile and Apparating away.
XxXxXxXxXxX
"Walt!" cried Mike, as Harry appeared in the middle of the old garage to a chorus of yet more shocked gasps.
"Is Harry still here?" asked Harry quickly.
"What?" said Mike. "Um, no. Some old woman in weird clothes came and said she was here to explain a few things. She seemed very surprised when we mention'd you though."
"You didn't tell her you'd seen me do magic, did you?" he asked, hoping that no one would have to be obliviated anytime soon.
"We mentioned it," answered Mike. "She said that it wouldn't be a problem, though. Anyway, she said she'd be taking Harry to that place you mentioned earlier, Deacon Alley or something like that."
"Diagon Alley," corrected Harry. "Alright, thanks."
Before anyone could say anything else, Harry had already disappeared again.
XxXxXxXxXxX
Two days later, as Harry led his other self through the barrier at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride towards his other self. Not only had he taken both Harry's existence better than he would have at that age, but he had also coped with the revelation that he was a wizard a lot better than he had. Where Harry had looked out of place and lost when Hagrid had first taken him to Diagon Alley, this Harry looked like he belonged there. He had asked all the questions that Harry wished he himself had asked the first time and had hid his surprise and wonder a lot better than Harry had.
He heard his other self gasp slightly as they both caught sight of the maroon coloured steam train. Same reaction as mine, noted Harry, somehow glad that they weren't really that different.
"Well, Harry," he addressed his other self. "There it is. The Hogwarts Express."
The other Harry said nothing in response.
"C'mon, kid," smiled Harry. "Let's get your stuff on board."
The other Harry nodded and pushed the luggage trolley towards the luggage compartment, where his trunk and the cage that contained his new pet Barn Owl, Hermod, were both loaded onto the train.
"Don't worry," reassured Harry when he saw the concerned look on his other self's face. "He'll be fine."
The other Harry nodded.
"Well, this is where our paths separate, kid," said Harry. "By tonight, you'll be at Hogwarts and I'll be in another world."
""Will you be okay?" the other Harry asked.
Always putting everyone else before himself, thought Harry as he heard this. "I'll be fine, Harry," he said. "Now get yourself onto that train, it's nearly eleven. Go on, and good luck."
Harry watched as his younger self stepped hesitantly onto the train. God, he's gonna love it, he thought as he heard a whistle blow. He's going to Hogwarts, then at the end of the year, he'll have a home with a godfather who cares about him. He paused for a second as he remembered his other self's goodbye to his friends – that was what really made Harry feel proud to be a Harry Potter. The boy's insistent, almost forceful, promises that he wouldn't forget about them and would do anything to help them out if they needed it had nearly brought a tear to Harry's eye. With loyalty like that, I wouldn't be surprised if the Sorting Hat makes him a Hufflepuff, Harry thought as the train began to move. Harry the Hufflepuff, he smirked slightly at the thought. Pity I can't stick around to see Hufflepuff win either the Quidditch Cup or the House Cup. The look on the Slytherins' faces would have been priceless considering how 'mediocre' the Hufflepuffs supposedly are. Oh well…
He suddenly saw his other self give him a wave through the window as the train began to move out of the station. Harry raised his arm slightly and returned the gesture as he felt the familiar sensation of the mysterious aura as it engulfed him.
-
AUTHOR'S NOTES
Well, hopefully this makes up for the length, or lack thereof, of the last chapter.
For those who may not know, Chapter 1 of 'The Story of The Guys' is now up, with Chapter 2 hopefully finished soon.
The name of this Harry's owl, Hermod, is also that of the Norse (Viking) Messenger God. The reason for the different owl is because I reckoned that 'Hedwig' would have been sold by the time this Harry got a chance to go to Diagon Alley. The name I figured might have been suggested by Harry as I can't really imagine that he wouldn've have wanted his familiar's name to go to another owl, out of respect for his long-dead companion.
Tritium – How The Lone Traveller becomes a legend will be partially explained later.
Benoni – Wow. Thanks for the compliments. Oh, and it's funny how you suggest I put in a long-term story arc JUST BEFORE I post the chapter where I introduce it.
Y'know, I still think someone's hacked into my notes somehow.
Only joking. Thanks for the reviews and enjoy.
Any SoTG questions in these reviews will be addressed in the SoTG Author Notes.