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 TWELVE – Tom & Jerry.
As Harry's vision cleared after a ten second pause, he expected to be somewhere completely different.
He wasn't – he was still on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.
But I've just 'moved on'! thought Harry as he looked around him. Why am I still here?
Somehow, no one had noticed his entrance as everyone was too busy boarding the maroon coloured train. The Hogwarts Express? But it just left! He stopped for a second and thought about it. No it hasn't, this version of the Hogwarts Express hasn't left yet. He looked up at the station clock and saw that the train wasn't due to leave for another ten minutes. He looked around him at the families around the train and noticed something strange about them.
What's with all the fancy clothes? Harry wondered as he observed one smartly dressed boy receiving a hug from his mother, who was wearing the kind of dress that indicated a wealthy family, and an encouraging hand on the shoulder from his father, who for some reason, was wearing a top hat. Oh my god! How far back in time have I gone this time? He decided to move a bit closer, ignoring the strange looks he was getting from some due to his hair and Muggle clothes. Maybe I should try talking to someone, Harry considered. Before he could pick out someone who looked likely to help him, Harry felt something ram into him.
"What the…" he muttered as he spun around and saw that it was a luggage trolley that had hit him. The boy who had been pushing the trolley started to go red as he stammered through an apology…
"S… sorry mister, I… uh… lost control," the boy said nervously. "I… I'm really sorry."
"Don't worry 'bout it, kid. Trust me, I know just how hard those things are to control," said Harry. He looks a bit like Dad! he thought as he regarded the boy. I wonder…
"Gerald!" he heard a voice call. "What have you done now?" A tall woman with dark hair, which had been done up in a bun, came up to them and addressed Harry. "I'm so sorry!" She turned to her young son. "I hope you've apologised…" she said with a scolding voice.
"He has," interrupted Harry. "And it's all right, I'm fine."
"Good, good," The boy's mother said quickly before taking the trolley and addressing her son. "Come along Gerald."
As Harry watched the two join the rest of their family near the front end of the train. You have got to be kidding me. Don't tell me that boy was my Dad's Uncle Gerald, the Metamorphmagus. He watched as Gerald got on board the train, closely followed by a much older looking girl, probably a fifth year, and another boy, most likely a third year. I wonder if he's my grandfather, thought Harry. He does have the same colour of hair as Dad, just nowhere near as messy. But why have I been sent back to see my grandfather and his siblings go to school? Unless I'm supposed to do something to help one of them. Oh well, I guess I should get on board.
Harry immediately made his way to the nearest door and jumped aboard. When he was sure that no one was looking, he Disillusioned himself and set out to find this reality's version of his grandfather. As it turned out, Harry didn't have to look far as he found Gerald being ushered into a compartment by his older brother, though the boys' older sister seemed to disapprove of this.
"Harold! Leave Gerald alone!" she said loudly. "Let him do his own thing."
"But what if he mixes with the wrong sort?" responded Harold.
Harold? Wrong sort? thought Harry as he watched the scene from down the corridor. Oh god, please tell me my grandfather and namesake isn't a racist…
"I'm sure he won't Harold," replied Harold's older sister.
Harold looked at his sister, then at his younger brother. "All right, Mary," he relented before addressing his little brother. "Clear off then. Just don't let me catch you talking to any riff-raff or Mother and Father will hear of it!"
What does he mean 'Mother and Father will hear of it'? wondered Harry as he stood to one side to allow young Gerald to pass. Oh fuck, don't tell me the whole Potter family are Pure-blood fanatics! However, as Gerald passed he heard the boy mutter something that sounded like "I'll talk to whoever I want to, you pompous fool," Harry grinned at his great uncle as the boy disappeared through the door to the next carriage.
"What was that?" shouted Harold, having heard his little brother mutter something, though he didn't know what.
"Oh leave him," said another boy who Harry didn't recognise. "Come on."
Harold nodded and joined his friends in the compartment. Harry decided to listen in for a while.
"You don't think you're being overprotective of your brother, do you?" one of Harold's friends asked.
"Maybe," agreed Harold. "I just don't want Gerald hanging around with any working class riff-raff. I mean, it's bad enough that they come to Hogwarts in rags, expecting the school to pay for their school equipment, without them bringing their foul-mouths and thieving ways with them."
"Yeah, I know what you mean," agreed another boy. "Unfortunately, most of them are Muggle-borns, so you have to be careful if you don't want to be accused of being anti-Muggle born."
"Stupid Muggle-borns," muttered Harold. "Don't get me wrong, I don't mind Muggle-borns that much, especially when they're used to everything. They're not too bad then, as long as they don't go on about how Muggles do things. Oh well…"
Okay, so he's more 'anti-poor people' than 'anti-Muggle born', thought Harry with some sense of relief as he realised who the 'wrong sort' his grandfather had been talking about were. I still reckon he needs taken down a peg or two. He was about to cast a wandless non-verbal Drenching spell on his grandfather when he noticed someone running towards him. Harry dodged out of his way as the boy stuck his head through the compartment door.
"Harold!" the boy exclaimed.
"Edward!" Harold responded. "What is it?"
"Your brother," gasped Edward. "He's busy talking to some riff-raff boy!"
"What?" exclaimed Harold as he and his two friends suddenly stood up. "Are you sure?"
"I think so," replied Edward. "The boy's clothes looked old and I overheard the boy saying he was new to the wizarding world."
"Betcha he's from the slums," interjected one of Harold's friends.
"Yeah," agreed the other. "Let's go and teach him some respect."
Harold nodded and the four boys left the compartment. As a still Disillusioned Harry followed them through the train, he couldn't quite believe what he'd just heard. Bloody hell, and I thought the whole 'pure-blood superiority' thing was stupid, but hating poor people as if they were an inferior race of some kind? How stupid can you get? And to think that guy's the one who raised my Dad? Un-be-fucking-lievable!
Soon, Harry found himself watching Harold yelling at his little brother, while the others were harassing the dark haired boy in the corner, who almost looked terrified, though Harry could tell the boy was trying to hide it. Why does that boy look familiar? Harry wondered as he listened to Harold's yelling for a few seconds. Guess I should intervene, Harry thought as he made himself visible again before entering the compartment.
"Is there a problem here?" Harry asked in the most authoritative voice he could muster. Everyone stopped and turned towards the source of the voice.
"Who the devil are you?" exclaimed one of the boys.
Harry smirked at the boy. "I believe I just asked you all a question, kid," he said, emphasising the word 'kid'. "Now kindly answer it."
Harold looked at the alternate version of his grandson with contempt. "Defending your fellow riff-raff, are you?" he sneered.
Oh my god, he sounds just like Malfoy! Harry thought, but he maintained his composure. "Riff-raff?" he smirked. "Pardon me for asking this, but what are you talking about?"
"You're like him, aren't you?" said Edward, pointing at the boy in the corner. "Some Muggle-born from the slums or something."
"Hmm," Harry responded mockingly. "Nope, sorry. My Dad was a pure-blood so I don't think that charming little description applies to me."
The boys stared at Harry incredulously. "But… if you're pure-blood, why're you dressed like a Muggle?" stammered one of the boys.
Harry looked down at his leather jacket and jeans. "What's wrong with the way I'm dressed?" he asked, sarcastically pretending that he cared about their opinions. "I like this jacket."
There was a slight pause. Harry stood to one side slightly so that the doorway was clear. "Well?" said Harry. "Unless you boys have any further business in this compartment, I suggest you leave."
"Make us!" challenged one of Harold's friends.
Harry sighed. "Do I really need to get out my Prefect's badge? Move!" he said, raising his voice in a way that he knew would make the boys obey. Sure enough, the four boys began to sidle out.
"Come along, Gerald," mumbled Harold to his younger brother.
"No!" said Harry forcefully, as he watched the younger boy begin to follow his brother slowly. "He can stay if he wants to."
"What!" yelled Harold indignantly. "Now see here…"
"No, you see here, you ignorant little piece of shit!" snarled Harry in a voice that immediately silenced Harold. "What your little brother does and who he talks to is his business, not yours." He looked at Gerald, who had backed away slightly towards the boy in the corner, who, rather than look scared, looked impressed. Why does he look familiar? Harry found himself wondering once again as he continued the verbal beatdown on Harold. "Y'know, you should be glad to have a little brother who isn't as bigoted and bloody stupid as you! At least he's willing to talk to people before deciding whether to harass them or not, whereas you and your little buddies just going around acting like pure-blood fanatics!"
"How dare you!" exclaimed Harold. "I'm not…"
"Then what do you call bullying Muggle-borns then?" interrupted Harry, now genuinely angry at the hypocrisy of the man he would one day be named after. "God, you make me sick. Get the fuck out of my sight!"
Harold looked at him incredulously. "You…" he growled as he took a swing at Harry.
Poor little fool, Harry thought as he ducked, grabbed Harold and kneed him in the stomach before throwing him out of the door of the compartment. "And stay out!" he yelled as he watched his grandfather stagger to his feet. For a second, Harry thought that Harold would come back for more but was proven wrong when Harold glared at him and retreated down the corridor, his pace considerably rapid.
Harry re-entered the compartment and closed the door behind him. "Hey there," said Harry. "You guys okay?"
Gerald stared at Harry, but managed to nod slightly.
"And you?" said Harry, addressing the other boy.
"I'm fine," said the boy quickly.
I know that voice! Harry thought suddenly. Oh Christ, please tell me I'm wrong…
"Um… thank you," said Gerald as he sat down again. "That's twice you've saved me from being yelled at for something I've done wrong."
"The trolley was an accident," corrected Harry as he sat down opposite the two boys. "And I fail to see what you could have done to warrant being yelled at by your brother. As far as I can tell, all you were doing was sitting here, talking to someone you've just met when all of a sudden, your brother storms in here and starts bawling his head off. Hell, if anyone deserves to be yelled at for doing something wrong, it's your brother and his little friends."
"Oh," said Gerald, quietly. "Well, uh, thanks anyway."
"Any time, Gerald," replied Harry.
Gerald looked at Harry curiously "How did you know my name?"
"Your mother called you 'Gerald' on the platform and your brother called you the same thing just now, so, unless I've missed some very important clue, I think it's fairly safe to conclude that your name's Gerald, am I right?" explained Harry. Gerald nodded slightly, unsure what else to say. Harry decided to turn his attention to the young dark haired boy who had thus far said nothing. "And what would your name be?" he asked in what he hoped sounded like a friendly voice.
"Me?" stammered the boy, who had obviously not expected Harry to take an interest in him. "Um… my name's Tom."
Bugger! thought Harry. Why couldn't I have been wrong?
XxXxXxXxXxX
Fifteen minutes later, Harry was wondering if this really was the Tom Marvolo Riddle who would one day become the monster that had destroyed everything he cared about. He looks almost happy! Harry thought disbelievingly as he watched his arch-nemesis talking to his great uncle. Come to think of it, so does Gerald. It's almost as if they were meant to be friends. I mean, I already know Tom's ambition and motives due to his background, but Gerald seems to have just as much ambition and seems a lot more calculating than his brother. But if he was like that in my reality, then surely he would've been a Slytherin, yet I was told that my whole family had been Gryffindors… Unless he only became a Gryffindor because he didn't want any trouble from his family…
"So what house do you two think you'll end up in?" Harry suddenly asked when he saw an opening in the conversation.
"I… I don't really know," said young Tom. "I think I might end up being in Slytherin though, if the house you're in is to do with personality."
I wonder if he already knows about him being Slytherin's heir, thought Harry as he heard this. And why's he telling me this? The Tom Riddle I knew would've never revealed what he was thinking to anyone else. "Ambition and Cunning, eh?" smirked Harry. "And a desire to prove yourself. Very interesting. Well, just as long as you don't let those characteristics lead you down the road to ultimate ruin, then they should serve you well."
"But Slytherins are supposed to be evil, aren't they?" asked Gerald.
"Some of them, maybe, but only because people treat them as such," replied Harry. "There's nothing wrong with any of the four houses. I mean, if any of them were 'evil', then Hogwarts would get rid of that house, right?"
"I… I suppose you're right," stammered Gerald. "But I have to go into Gryffindor though…"
"Why?" interrupted Harry.
"What?" said Gerald.
"Why do you 'have to' become a Gryffindor?" Harry elaborated.
"Because… because my whole family have been Gryffindors," stuttered Gerald. "And Mother and Father would…"
"I know what you're about to say," interrupted Harry again. "And saying that your parents want you to go into a certain house isn't a good reason. It's not for them or anyone else to decide. The only ones that can make that decision are you and the Sorting Hat."
"Sorting Hat?" said Gerald disbelievingly.
"You'll see when you get to Hogwarts," said Harry. "But if the hat wants to put you in a house other than Gryffindor, then let it, especially if you don't want to go into Gryffindor yourself."
"But…" Gerald spluttered.
"Look, if you're smart, then let it put you in Ravenclaw. If you're loyal and hard-working, then let it put you in Hufflepuff. And if, like Tom here, you have ambition, then by all means, let it put you in Slytherin," continued Harry. "The whole point of the different houses is that it fits in with your personality, not that of your parents or siblings."
"He's right," said Tom suddenly after a slight pause. "You shouldn't let people tell you what to do. Also, I doubt you really want to be in the same house as your brother if all Gryffindors are that bad."
"They're not," said Gerald. "But… I think you might be right. I probably don't belong in Gryffindor anyway."
"And if your family does make a fuss if you don't become a Gryffindor?" said Harry.
"Then that's their problem," grinned Gerald. "Meanwhile, I'll be blowing away everything Harold and Mary've accomplished, you'll see. I mean, I'm already a…"
He stopped suddenly as he realised what he was about to say.
"You've kept it a secret, haven't you?" said Harry, correctly guessing what Gerald had been about to say. "Your family doesn't know about your gift."
"Wh… what gift?" stammered Gerald. How… how could he possibly know? he wondered frantically. "I… I don't know what you're talking about."
"You're a Metamorphmagus, aren't you?" mumbled Harry.
Gerald sat there, gaping at Harry with his mouth open, trying to say something.
"What's a Metamorphma… thing?" asked Tom suddenly.
"Someone who can change their appearance at will," hissed Harry in Parseltongue.
"Really? That sounds like a great power to have," replied Tom, oblivious of the fact that he was also speaking Parseltongue. "I wonder if it's possible to learn to do that."
"You…" squeaked Gerald suddenly. "You're… you're speaking… Parseltongue!"
"What?" said Tom. "What's Parseltongue?"
"The ability to talk to snakes, answered Harry. "Very few can do it, though most people probably hide it as, like Slytherins, they're considered inherently evil."
"I'm not evil!" exclaimed Tom indignantly.
"Glad to hear it, replied Harry. Maybe there is hope for this kid, Harry thought, trying not to picture a world untouched by the rage of 'Lord Voldemort'. Harry looked at Gerald who, though he looked positively terrified by the fact that he was sitting with a pair of Parselmouths, was still sitting in the compartment. Good boy, thought Harry. Just stick around and you and Tom might just get along just fine, especially if you both end up in Slytherin…
Harry froze slightly as he considered what must have happened in his reality, and indeed any reality he had not appeared in. Harold and his friends would have come into the compartment, dragged Gerald off somewhere and harassed young Tom a little. Gerald would have probably ended up in Gryffindor and Tom would go on into Slytherin and grow up, never knowing of such things as 'friendship'. Oh my god, I may have just nipped the whole Voldemort persona in the bud!
XxXxXxXxXxX
Eventually the train began to slow as it approached Hogsmeade station. By now, the two boys had just returned from changing into their school robes, only to find the mysterious Prefect still sitting there, not wearing his school robes.
"Aren't you going to get changed?" asked Gerald.
Harry shook his head. "I won't be going to Hogwarts again for a while, he said. Yeah, like fifty-odd years, Harry mentally smirked as he said this.
"Oh," said Tom, who looked slightly disappointed.
"Don't worry about me," said Harry. "Besides, I'm looking forward to hearing about the infamous duo of Tom and Jerry if I ever stop by again."
"Tom and Jerry?" exclaimed Gerald.
"Well, it does go better than Tom and Gerald, don't you agree?" said Harry, realising that there was a good chance that neither of them had ever seen the Muggle cartoon – It's probably not even out yet, he thought. "Besides, I think Jerry Potter sounds good, don't you think?"
"Jerry Potter?" mumbled Gerald.
"Tom and Jerry," mumbled Tom at the same time.
The three of them felt the train judder to a halt, announcing their arrival.
"You two'd better go and get your stuff. And good luck at the Sorting," said Harry.
The two boys nodded and went to leave, but Tom paused slightly and turned around again.
"By the way," he said, cursing himself for not asking earlier. "What's your name?"
Harry leaned back in his chair and smirked at the two boys.
"My name's Harry," he said. "Harry Potter."
Just then, right on cue, the light came and bathed Harry. The two boys watched dumbstruck as they watched the splinters of white light fly outwards as the pale blue light intensified. After a few seconds, the light climaxed with a bright flash and when the boys looked at the seat where 'Harry Potter' had been sitting, they saw that he was no longer there.
-
AUTHOR'S NOTES
Let's see…
Aerieth – It's been mentioned in previous chapters that Harry can Apparate through wards, having found that there a loopholes that allow you to get through.
Makokam – The 'light show' is something I added. As far as I know, it's not in the sixth book.
SmellyCat190 – I agree. Dr Who is a good show and I did like Christopher Eccleston as the Doctor, though David Tennant does look promising from what I've seen.
Concerning the 'blue aura' – If you want to get an idea of what the 'aura' looks like, watch the last few Series 1 episodes of Quantum Leap ('Kamikaze Kid', 'Colour of Truth', 'Play it again, Seymour' etc). The sound is similar, but it doesn't necessarily sound the same every time (bit like the show really)
As I've said, I've already decided on The Lone Traveller's fate and am going to spend the next few days writing at least a rough draft of the Epilogue and maybe the last two chapters, so there may be a delay with this and SoTG. Apologies for that, but then again, I might be away for Hogmanay anyway.