Still don't own Harry Potter. Any OCs in this story are mine, though, along with the elements of the plotline that are non-canon to JK Rowling's Harry Potter.
Thank you for all your comments and reviews! It was interesting to see your replies to my last question.
Again, apologies for any delays. IRL duties have been calling, so…
Anyways. The next chapter awaits.
Chapter Six
Discoveries
Potter Manor, Lancashire, 24/06/1996…
Warmth.
It was wrapped around him like a fluffy blanket, seeping into his slowly awakening mind and infusing within it a sense of comfort, of safety.
Green eyes slowly fluttered open as Harry reluctantly entered the conscious world, taking in the blurry expanse of colours that was presented to his gaze.
Sitting up tiredly and snatching his rounded-frame glasses off the bedside table, the boy slipped them onto his nose and let out a yawn. Scratching a hand through his unruly black hair, he absently glanced around his room, feeling pleasantly rested.
His bedroom.
Not Dudley's second bedroom, which his dear relatives had only given Harry after it became apparent that someone outside of his relatives' residence knew where he was staying.
Sitting across from Harry's position on the bed and made of a rich mahogany was a wooden wardrobe, easily large enough to hold all of the wizard's material possessions. A charmed mirror was mounted on the cupboard's door, inconspicuously waiting for someone to check their reflection, upon which — according to Rose, who had grinned mischievously as she'd pointed this out — it would erupt into a litany of (not so) helpful comments relating to the person's appearance.
Next to the wardrobe was an ornate desk, probably made of the same material, accompanied by a matching yet comfortable leather chair. Though the desk was largely unused, a full ink pot and reams of blank parchment were placed on its surface, along with other writing implements. A large window sat in the wall to Harry's left, letting beams of golden sunlight illuminate his room softly.
The walls were subtle peach, a few paintings of landscapes dotted here and there, and the floors a soft grey. He probably would have further decorated the space with his personal items, had they not been in a literal different plane of existence.
Harry threw off the covers and stood up, sleep still clouding his brain. He yawned again as he wandered through his open door, heading down the wide staircase in search of breakfast.
Thinking about the unattainable status of both his worldly possessions and the friends who had mostly purchased them for him — and that he had practically abandoned — made the young wizard feel both depressed and guilty.
How could Harry have done such a thing, leaving them behind, after all they had done for him? What would Ron, Ginny, Neville; hell, even Luna, sweet, understanding Luna, think if they saw him now?
Happy, blissfully rested and largely content, while Voldemort himself was threatening their hopes, their dreams.
Their very lives.
And, Hermione — dear, faithful Hermione. What must she be thinking, feeling? Harry could not imagine how he would feel if he'd followed his best friend down a path literally out of their world, thereby cutting off all contact with everything he'd loved — his childhood friends, the life he had known, his parents…
His parents…
With all the subtlety of a rogue Bludger, the full impact of just what had occurred in the last few days took that precise moment to smack Harry square in the face.
His parents were alive!
Harry staggered to the side, legs suddenly traitorously weak, pressing a hand to his chest as he vainly tried to stem the torrent of emotions tearing through him. His eyes began to water, his breathing quickening, but he somehow managed to give himself a mental shake and contained his rampaging feelings.
Leaning on a wall for support, Harry stepped into the kitchen, wiping his sleeve against his eyes as he attempted to banish the evidence of his near-breakdown from his face.
Then, looking up, the boy very nearly lost the tenuous hold he had on his emotions.
Standing at a marble counter, Lily was the only other occupant of the light and airy cooking space. She had her back to him, as her hands were occupied with the whisking of what sounded like eggs. The woman's red hair was tied up in a ponytail, her sleeves were rolled back, and she was currently humming a quiet song — a random, tuneless melody of notes.
To Harry's ears, it sounded as if it came from the Celedones themselves.
A spike of bone-deep longing and sadness for what he had missed out on — things that most other children took for granted — arose in Harry's chest as the boy painfully observed the calm picture of domesticity before him.
"Morning, sleepyhead," Lily greeted teasingly, still facing the counter. Having chosen to make breakfast for the other occupants of the house, instead of allowing the House-elves to do so as usual, her whisk tapped periodically against the side of the plastic bowl as it mixed the contents. "Did you have a good rest?"
His reply, against his wishes, came out as a choked breath.
In the beats of silence that followed, Harry once again engaged in a wrestling match with his rampant emotions.
Lily glanced over her shoulder when he did not reply, taking a single look at his expression.
The witch immediately put her cooking implements down and stepped around the kitchen island. She marched determinedly towards Harry, sweeping him up in a hug thankfully not designed to break his ribs — which, in some distant corner of his mind, he had been half-expecting.
"There, there," Lily consoled, speaking softly and rubbing his back in soothing circles. Harry stiffened, clearly uncomfortable, but Lily nevertheless guided his head onto her shoulder. "Talk to me, Harry. What's the problem?"
"N-nothing," Harry tried to lie, hating how his voice stuttered. He attempted to pull away but her grip was too firm. "Nothing's wrong. I'm fine."
Lily squeezed him gently once more before pulling back, but only far enough to scrutinise his expression. Her narrowed viridian gaze felt like a sharp probe, and Harry found himself unable to meet it.
"Which is exactly what James would say, whenever he'd gone and injured himself playing Quidditch." Though the words could have been interpreted reproachfully, Harry thought her reply was more of an amused comment rather than a scolding. "Now, are you going to tell me what's the matter?"
Harry mumbled something unintelligible, looking down to the floor.
She peered at him speculatively for a few more seconds.
"Ah, I see," Lily whispered, eyes suddenly alight with understanding and sympathy. Harry was wrapped up in a gentle hug again. "It's okay, dear. Let it all out."
And with that, the metaphysical damn broke.
Tears flowed hot and fast as the fifteen-year-old collapsed into his dead-but-now-alive-mother's embrace. A conglomerated rush of incomprehensible emotions paraded through his mind as wracking sobs attacked his body.
Throughout the entire onslaught, Lily remained calm, a physical pillar of stability; whispering platitudes into his ear and occasionally pressing a kiss to his unruly mop of black hair.
Against Harry's expectations, it felt surprisingly cathartic to let out all of his pent-up emotions, which he had kept inside the confines of his psyche for practically his entire life.
His sobs soon reduced to the occasional sniffle; Lily now humming a quiet, soothing tune as she continued to comfort the poor boy.
"All better?" she asked, when the teenager emerged from her shoulder.
Upon receiving a small nod in reply, she stepped back and returned to the kitchen counter. "Splendid. So, what would you like for breakfast?
Harry sat down at the nearby table; eyes focused upon its grainy surface. "Uh, I'm not hungry, thanks."
"Now that simply won't do, Harry," came the light reproach. Harry looked up to see Lily fixing him with a faux cross look, hands fisted on her hips. "Take your pick — I've got scrambled eggs, cereal, baked beans, sausages…"
"C-cereal, please," he requested quietly, sitting down at the island; still feeling somewhat overwhelmed. A bowl of the mentioned item was soon placed before him, just as a black lump of matter explosively propelled itself out of the toaster.
Harry laughed despite himself when Lily sighed, drawing her wand to pry the severely burnt toast down from the ceiling.
Suddenly, voices came from the hallway, and the two occupants of the kitchen glanced in that direction.
Through the door emerged the other residents of the Manor, all in varying degrees of awareness. Eyes were rubbed; yawns were muffled behind hands as the wizards and witches crowded into the kitchen in search of some breakfast.
Hermione came and sat next to Harry, blearily attempting and largely failing to keep her eyes open. Rose plopped herself on his other side and placed her head on the dinner table, assuming a very convincing position of one sleeping.
"Good morning, everyone!" Sirius greeted cheerily. He leaned against the door jamb, an irritatingly chipper smile on his face. "Did you all sleep well?"
"Why do you have to be so happy in the mornings, Sirius?" James grumbled, attempting to wake himself up with a strong cup of coffee. "It's not right for someone to feel like that after getting out of bed."
Lily was still trying to get the bread down from the ceiling. Her efforts had largely been for nought. "Well, James, it has often been said that one is most productive in the early hours of the morning, so it can be good to get up early. Sometimes, though."
James snorted into his drink as he looked at what had kept her occupied. Hermione giggled quietly, Harry reluctantly smiled into his cereal and Rose let out a small snore, clearly no longer pretending to be asleep.
The toaster apparently decided to draw attention to itself again and regurgitated another piece of burnt toast, which promptly attached itself to the ceiling — in the exact spot that Lily had just cleaned.
"I don't think the toaster likes you that much, dear," said James with a smirk, stealing a sausage from his wife's plate on the counter.
Lily glared at him.
Sirius hastily smothered his grin when the redhead directed that stare onto him too.
"Shush, you," was the muttered response as she finally managed to vanish the scorched food. Spinning on the spot, Lily then proceeded with the task of dishing out breakfast for the half-awake wizards and witches, to the chorus of their appreciative and grateful calls.
A glass of orange juice was soon placed near Harry's left hand.
"Thanks, Mum," he said absently, taking a sip. His attention had been captured by Hermione, who was rambling on about a passage she had recently read in one of the Potter Library's many books.
Lily smiled to herself. It seemed that Harry had not noticed what he had just said.
"You're welcome, dear. Now, eat up, your cereal will get soggy!"
~ooOOooOOOooOOoo~
Potter Manor, Lancashire, 24/06/1996…
Next to the table, there came a quiet pop.
"Mistress Lily?"
Turning to the voice, Harry found its owner to be a rather regal looking House-elf.
Though, by appearances, the being was much older than other House-elves he had encountered before — the thought of Dobby briefly flashed through Harry's mind — it still stood tall and proud, hands clasped behind its back. Hooked ears protruded from the sides of the elf's head, complete with almost unnoticeable tufts of white hair extending from its ear canals.
Its maroon-silver-and-gold uniform was impeccable to any inspection and ironed to perfection, wide, alert brown eyes stared from a face that looked like it was made out of weathered, dirty grey leather.
The elf somehow straightened even further when it noticed their combined attention on it; the light reflecting off the Potter Crest upon its right breast.
"Yes, Canby?" Lily said, standing up out of her chair. James and Sirius did not notice the elf's arrival and continued their conversation; Hermione regaling a now-awake Rose about the events she had missed. "What can I do for you?"
Harry put his cereal spoon down, turning to pay attention to the little exchange.
"The Hogwarts Letters have arrived, Mistress," Canby replied. Harry, noting the slightly gravelly timbre of the elf's voice, figured that it was male. He was also somewhat surprised to note that the elf spoke in perfect English. After speaking to both Dobby and Blinky, he had, on some unconscious level, naïvely assumed that all House-elves talked in a similar manner to the mentioned elves.
Evidently, Harry was incorrect.
"They have arrived, have they?" Lily repeated, brow furrowing in puzzlement. She held out one hand towards Canby, her other rubbing her chin absently. "How odd. The letters don't usually arrive this early…"
"Indeed, Mistress," Canby said, raising a wrinkled hand and snapping his fingers.
Three creamy-peach envelopes promptly materialised, placidly hovering in mid-air. With another gesture, they were gently pushed into Lily's waiting grasp.
"Thank you, Canby," she said, fixing her green eyes on his ramrod-straight form. "And how many times have I said that just Lily would be fine?"
Canby shrugged. "Many times, Mistress."
Lily looked at him pointedly but ultimately gave up her endeavour when the old elf failed to amend his statement.
She sighed, turning back to the table. "You've been ever so helpful, Canby. You may go now."
The elf bowed once more and disappeared with another pop.
"Where are they from, dear?" James asked. He had finished his discussion with Sirius, noticing the items in his wife's grasp as she walked back to her seat. "Who are they for?"
"They are from Hogwarts, apparently," Lily replied, "and it says here that they are for Harry, Rose and Hermione."
Said individuals perked up at the mention of their names, just as the redhead reached the table and handed the letters to the three teenagers.
Harry peered curiously at his letter. On a backdrop of grainy parchment, the Hogwarts crest — a lion, a snake, a badger and a raven, all pictured in various heroic poses and surrounding a cursive letter H — was proudly embossed in a rich red wax. Turning the envelope over, he noticed the address written upon its back.
Mr H. Potter
Third Bedroom on the Right, Second Floor
The Potter Residence
Wyresdale Retreat, Lancashire
"Hmm." Rose frowned at her letter, which held a distinct bulge in one corner. Harry, remembering the events of the summer before last year, had an inkling as to what was causing the bump. "They're a bit early, aren't they?"
James nodded, an intrigued gleam in his eye as he neatly dissected a piece of scrambled egg with his knife and fork. After submerging it in baked beans, he popped the still-too-large-to-be-easily-eaten ensemble in its entirety into his mouth.
He somehow missed the look that Lily sent towards him immediately after.
"Go on, open 'em up," Sirius bade with an almost impatient gesture, speaking as he bit into an apple. Lily's nose wrinkled again. "Don't keep us waiting!"
The letters were ripped open with appropriate vigour and two pristine sheets of parchment fell out of each envelope.
Choosing a sheet at random, Harry perused the flowing, handwritten text upon it.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of
WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
HEADMASTER:
ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards)
Date of Correspondence: 24th July, 1996
Dear Mr H. Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted for Sixth Year Tuition at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
New students to Hogwarts will be required to report directly to the Chamber of Admissions upon arrival. Returning students will be able to proceed directly into the Great Hall for the Sorting Feast. Term shall begin on September 1st, 1996 — we await your elf by no later than July 31st. Upon arrival, students will be duly informed of the changes to the Hogwarts curriculum and teaching staff, as directed by new Ministry legislation.
Fifth-Year Students and above will be required to declare their subject choices for the upcoming year by no later than August 15th (attached is a list of said subjects).
Please find attached to this correspondence a list of all required items, books and equipment. They can be purchased from any suitable commercial centre — including but not limited to the Via Magica, Immersion Alley, Diagon Alley, and other appropriate suppliers.
Also attached is a ticket granting one individual admittance to the Hyperion Relay. Ensure that you have this ticket on your person on September 1st; otherwise, access to the Relay will not be granted.
We look forward to receiving you at Hogwarts, Mr Potter.
Yours sincerely,
Professor Lorenzo Alvarez
Head of Hogwarts Admissions
Harry finished reading the letter just as Rose was swept up into a tight hug by her mother.
"Congratulations," Hermione beamed, placing her letter beside her plate. James and Sirius both clapped enthusiastically, and even Blinky and Canby had appeared to congratulate the girl.
Rose stared, a shocked look on her face, at the small, metallic item in her grasp. Gleaming in the morning light, a silver P sat on top of a shield-shaped expanse of forest green.
Harry smiled broadly. "Congrats, Rose!"
The Prefect's badge glittered innocently as Rose turned it around, wonderingly looking it over. "Wow…well, I don't know what to say…"
"I will say 'I told you so'," Lily put in with a grin, squeezing her daughter around the shoulders. James nodded, smiling proudly. "Did I not tell you that you would get the position?"
"…yes, you did," the smaller redhead grudgingly accepted. As Lily finally released her, she put the badge down on the table. "Hey, Mum? When d'you think we could go shopping for these?" Rose held up what looked to be the list of required supplies.
"Hmm…maybe later today, I think," was the reply. "Does that work for all of you?"
Lily received many indications of assent. "Excellent. We shall go shopping then."
"Uh, Rose?" Hermione spoke into the brief silence.
Her brows were furrowed and her gaze focused on her Hogwarts Letter. "What's the Hyperion Relay? I've never heard of something like that before." Harry and Sirius both nodded; they too were unaware of what the Relay was.
James, Lily and Rose simultaneously glanced at each other.
"Well, it's—"
"Ah, ah, ah! You are not allowed to tell them, young lady," Lily immediately interrupted. Rose pouted.
The curious gleam in Hermione's eye had not abated one bit. If anything, it had grown more prominent. "Why not?"
"The sky is green and the snow is warm," James said in reply, smirking cryptically.
The brunette blinked at the non-sequitur. "I—the sky—what?"
James picked up a glass of orange juice and took a deep sip from it, completely unaffected by the look Hermione sent towards him. Any attempts to get the man to elaborate further failed spectacularly.
"Hmph. Fine, then." Hermione ardently refused to emulate Rose, so she resorted to merely crossing her arms. "Who's this Professor Alvarez? Head of Hogwarts Admissions… And what happened to Professor McGonagall?"
"Minnie's absolutely fine, don't worry," James replied, finishing off his breakfast. A look of confusion appeared on his face as he pushed his plate away. "And why do I get the impression that a Head of Hogwarts Admissions does not exist in your…dimension?"
"That's because it doesn't," Harry piped up. Hermione and Sirius nodded. "What other things are different here?"
"Well," Lily suggested, "why don't we start comparing timelines from just before 1991, and work our way forwards from there?"
"Okay," Hermione agreed for the three interdimensional travellers. She shifted, getting more comfortable in her chair. "Uh, let's see…erm, well, we know what happened in 1981—" She flashed Harry an apologetic glance. "—but after that, many Death Eaters escaped justice with just a slap on the wrist. The Ministry of Magic and the British wizarding world as a whole remained practically as it was before — dismissive towards Muggles and Muggleborns, believing heavily in Pureblood superiority, and so on."
"Interesting," James said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Over here, I would have to say that almost the opposite happened. Death Eaters and sympathizers for Voldemort's regime were punished as deserved, but I suspect some escaped the law. The DMLE has been looking for these individuals for some time. In addition to this, pushes for change in practically everything were rampant, spearheaded by ambitious Muggleborns and a few Halfbloods."
"Did people not try to stop it?" Harry asked.
"I was just getting to that point, lad," James replied. "Where was I? Oh yes. When, expectedly, the traditionalist Pureblood bloc resisted these reforms, someone I can't remember the name of compared the Wizarding world to the Muggle world. They highlighted how behind wizardkind was compared to the Muggles in terms of societal progression, calling it 'so damn backwards that even the mere concept of modernizing as a society was distinctly absent' — their words, not mine."
Everyone laughed. Harry thought the statement perfectly described the wizards and witches back in his old dimension.
"So, you can imagine how the Purebloods reacted to such an observation," James continued with a chuckle. "Whether they did this intentionally or not, the Wizarding world slowly but surely started to imitate its Muggle counterpart, though, of course, with magic in the mix. No corner was unaffected; no stone unturned — even Hogwarts received many thorough audits and inspections. When the various investigations were complete, it was revealed that, quite frankly, the 'best institute of magical education in the world' was, if one compared it against Muggle schools, barely better than a bottom-rung comprehensive institution."
"I suspect that must have ruffled quite a few feathers," Sirius drawled amusedly.
"Indeed, it did," Lily said, taking over from her husband. "Though it took a long time — and, to some extent, is still happening as we speak — Hogwarts was encouraged to employ more teachers, to expand the width and breadth of their curriculum, and to submit to regular inspections performed by independent bodies in order to make sure that it was up to standard. This year's first year class has actually been the largest in the past twenty, in fact, due to an increase in how many wizards and witches Hogwarts admitted. Given the castle's nature, space was not an issue."
"What happened in your first year?" Rose asked suddenly, looking at Harry and Hermione.
Harry shrugged. "Nothing too interesting, I think. I met Ron, Hermione and Neville, received an invisibility cloak from Dumbledore and looked into the Mirror of Erised for a short while. We also helped Hagrid out in the Forbidden Forest, and stopped Voldemort from stealing the Philosopher's Stone, which w—
"Wait—hold on one second," Lily cut in, her right hand raised. "Did you just say that you stopped Voldemort from stealing the Philosopher's Stone?"
She, James, Rose and even Sirius — who, Harry realised suddenly, had not heard this story before — were all staring at the black-haired boy incredulously.
"Yes, we had to, otherwise he would have stolen the Stone and come back to life," Harry explained, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Hermione bit her lip. "So, as I was saying—"
"No, no," Lily interrupted again, half standing up; heat in her voice. "Answer me this. Why would two eleven-year-olds be allowed to help a Professor in the Forbidden Forest — a place that is called Forbidden for quite a good reason — never mind having to stop a known Dark Lord from stealing a highly precious artefact, something that shouldn't even be kept in a school—"
The others, except from Hermione, who was still biting her lip, nodded decisively in agreement.
James, a thunderous yet controlled expression on his face, placed a hand on Lily's arm, calming her down. Marginally. "Let him continue, dear. What happened in your second year?"
Harry swallowed convulsively but nevertheless continued to speak. Hermione surreptitiously squeezed his hand under the table. "Well, um, I discovered that I could speak Parseltongue, my best mate's sister got controlled by a diary and Slytherin's basilisk Petrified a few stud—"
"WHAT?!"
~ooOOooOOOooOOoo~
Author's Note:
29/11/2020
Thank you for all the reviews! I really enjoy reading them and gaining your input/advice for this story. Apologies for a slightly shorter chapter than usual; real life had a few demands that I had to attend to.
Right. I'll see you all in the next update.
Avaxius