Disclaimer: I'm afraid that my limited brain capacity would never allow me to produce such a wonderful concept as Harry Potter, nor would my finances allow me to buy him. Therefore, I regretfully state that I own neither Harry Potter, nor any other characters that you may recognize. I'm not even sure if I own the plot.

Note: I'm assuming that you already know the basic story of Harry Potter from books 1 through 5.

'Italics' stand for thoughts/letters or text

Chapter Sixteen: Identity Crisis, Part Two

Day Five, Afternoon:

"Professor, I can explain!" Harry pleaded urgently. He pulled back his sleeve and thrust his arm at the headmaster. "See? I don't have a Dark Mark! I would never join Voldemort!"

This vehement denial made Dumbledore relax slightly, but he still looked doubtful. "Then what, pray tell, were you doing at a Death Eater meeting?"

"Um…killing Voldemort."

"Really. Did you succeed?"

"I…I think so…it's kind of hard to tell…"

At that moment, Professor McGonagall burst into the room. "Albus, there are some Ministry workers here; they want to make sure the school isn't damaged in any way because of that expl— Mr. Potter! Is that blood on your robes?"

Glancing down at the crimson splotches, Harry winced. "Y…yes, Professor."

"What have you been do—!"

For the second time in as many minutes, the door flew open again. It was Ron and Hermione, who seemed to have guessed the password.

"Guys!" Harry exclaimed, his face lighting up, but to his dismay, Ron immediately snarled at him, while Hermione shrank away, looking oddly hurt.

"Stay back, you Death Eater!" the redhead cried.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, his heart sinking. "I'm not a Death Eater!" Hastily, he gestured towards his still bared arm.

Ron glanced at it and frowned. "How— it must be an illusion! I know you had the Dark Mark this morning!"

"I didn't!" Harry protested loudly. "I've never had the Dark Mark! Just let me explain!"

"Then what did you mean this morning, Harry?" Hermione inquired in a whisper.

"Huh? What did I say?"

"You…you called me…a stuck-up, know-it-all, b-bossy Mudb-blood," Hermione mumbled, staring at the floor. Obviously, she was very upset.

"I— I would never—!" Harry gasped, stunned at what his counterpart had said. "I— Hermione…"

"Well, Mr. Potter, I'm still waiting for your explanation," Dumbledore stated coldly.

"Okay…I know this going to be really hard to believe, but I'm telling the truth: the Harry that has been here for the past week wasn't me."

"What!" Ron, Hermione, and Professor McGonagall shouted at the same time.

"Are you delusional?" Ron scoffed. "You honestly expect us to believe that? What, it was an imposter?"

"Um, yes and no," Harry stammered. "You see, that day when Voldemort tried to kill me — the spell that Professor Dumbledore hit me with accidentally transported me into another dimension, an alternate reality. The me in that dimension got sent here."

"A likely story," Professor McGonagall sniffed.

"Professor Dumbledore, you're a Legilimens! Can't you see I'm telling the truth?" Harry begged.

The Headmaster was unconvinced. "Under normal circumstances, yes, but you seem to have suddenly gained some impressive Occlumency shields, Mr. Potter."

Desperate almost to the point of hysteria, Harry looked frantically around the office, searching for anything, anything, that could prove his innocence. Suddenly, his gaze fell on a perch in the corner, and he remembered Dumbledore's familiar.

"Fawkes!" he called. "Fawkes, I need you!"

"Don't waste your breath," Ron spat. "Phoenixes are Light creatures; they wouldn't come to a Death Eater like you!"

Glancing from one face to another, Harry saw that they were all turned against him. None of them believed him. A feeling of despair washed over him, and he bowed his head. If not even his best friends trusted him, who would?