"I've made my choice, Mr Malfoy." Harry said, once he had the wizard's attention.
"And which sentence have you decided upon, Mr Potter?" The blonde wizard asked.
"I choose the veil."
Harry opened his eyes and frowned. That... looked suspiciously like the ceiling, viewed from his usual bed in Hogwarts' hospital wing. He rolled his head to his right and sure enough, the rest of the hospital entered his line of sight. A few blinks and Harry sighed, reaching out to pick up the wand on the bedside table.
He held it up to his face.
"Not possible." He muttered. "Nagini…" His mind was filled with memories. "Aw, crap…" He laid the holly and phoenix feather wand on the bed beside his hip and reached under his pyjamas. "Yes. Oh, thank Merlin." He whispered and pulled his mokeskin pouch out where he could see it, before pausing, something tickling at the edges of his mind. Picking up the wand, he cast a simple charm. "Tempus et locus." Letters and numbers began to form in front of his eyes.
11.19pm
6 June 1994.
Bed 3, Main ward.
Hospital Wing,
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,
Hogsmeade, Scotland.
June 1994? What happened in June 1994? It took Harry a few moments to remember. He'd shut so much about Sirius into the back of his mind, that it literally took his breath away to remember that this was the night that they first really met, that Sirius was still alive.
"Still alive…?" He frowned blinking. "Time travel?" A few more seconds and the something that tickled at his mind, smacked him in the face. "Oh, shit."
He sat up and looked at the two other people in the room. Both sound asleep, in beds one on each side of him. Ron and Hermione.
But not his Ron and Hermione.
His Ron hadn't started to grow until halfway through fourth year. This Ron was already the length of the hospital bed.
His Ron had fiery red hair and freckles. This Ron had the same dark ginger-almost-auburn hair that Percy had.
His Ron snored like a freight train. This Ron was making tiny little whiffling sounds in his sleep.
This Ron was not his Ron.
He turned to look at Hermione.
Nope. Not his Hermione, either.
His Hermione had bushy brown hair. This Hermione had sleek dark locks, not that much lighter than what he thought his own should be.
His Hermione had buck teeth until the middle of fourth year. This Hermione was asleep with her mouth open enough for Harry to see her perfectly sized teeth.
His Hermione muttered in her sleep. This Hermione was silent.
This was not his Hermione.
That meant that he was not their Harry, either.
Voices at the hospital wing's doors caught his attention. He rose from the bed and slipped over to the door, casting a quiet eavesdropping charm to hear better.
"No, Sybil, I can't." That was Snape. Snape was alive. Harry blinked, this was going to take some getting used to.
"Why not? He should have died tonight. They both should have died. They were to be Kissed. I set everything up, the timing was perfect, the brat should have died. Why the hell did you have to get involved?" That was…? Was that Trelawney? It sure sounded like her but…? Who was the brat she was talking about? Him?
"There was a Life Debt between his father and I, it passed to him, unresolved. And Dumbledore made me give a Vow that I would do all I could to protect him." Snape muttered.
Yep, she was talking about him. Why?
"Blasted Dumbledore." Trelawney swore. "Why on Earth would he make you do that? He knows how much you hated James." The last word was spat out.
"Because Potter is our only hope at defeating the Dark Lord, Sybil." Snape said impatiently.
"You really believe that?" she asked.
"Put it this way… Would you bet against someone with Lily's brains and temper and Potter's stubbornness and unpredictability? Not to mention either of their magical strength?" Snape said sarcastically.
"Oh."
"Yes. Oh." Snape snorted.
"I still want him dead."
"I can't help you, not if I want to live. And I do." Snape growled.
"You'll do what I say, or I'll sent those pictures to the Aurors." Trelawney snarled.
"Do what you will, just don't do it where I can stop you or I'll have to." Snape snarled back and the two began to walk away.
Harry leant against the door, his mind racing. Snape was betting on Harry killing Voldemort. Again. But this wasn't his Snape or his Voldemort and he wasn't their Harry.
So… why did he have to do it, again?
Did he have to do it, again?
Did he want to do it, again?
No, he didn't.
But… how to get out of it? Dumbledore already knows about the horcruxes, he'd known since the moment he'd seen Harry's forehead, all those years ago. And then Harry had given him the diary in second year. That meant that Dumbledore was already planning on Harry being the one to deal with anything Voldemort-related that popped up, from now on. And he would expect Harry to sacrifice himself for his friends, just like Harry's mother had sacrificed herself for Harry.
"No, not happening. I've done that once, not doing it again." Harry moaned. "How the hell do I get out this?" He knocked his head against the door a few times. "I need to think like a marauder." He sat up in a hurry. "No… I need to talk to a marauder… and guess what? There's one flying away from the castle, right now." His mischievous grin would have had Ron swearing, Hermione whimpering and McGonagall shaking her head in dismay, had any of them seen it.
He rose to his feet and using the holly/phoenix feather wand, cast a privacy charm between himself and the only two people still in the room.
"Dobby?" He called quietly.
An almost silent pop had the hyperactive house-elf appearing beside him.
"Mr Harry Potter, sir. How can Dobby be's helping Harry Potter,?"
"Can you get me out of the hospital without setting off Madam Pomfrey's wards?"
Dobby tilted his head and looked at the nearest wall, before nodding quickly.
"Dobby can."
"Good take me to the Room of Requirement, please."
Dobby hung his head. "Dobby can't."
"Can you take me to the seventh floor? Outside the Room?"
Dobby nodded energetically. "Dobby can. Dobby will." The elf held out a hand and Harry put his in it. A twisting, gut-wrenching feeling latter and Harry was facing a familiar tapestry. Trolls in tutus.
"Thanks, Dobby. Can you hang around? I need some help and maybe some errands ran." Harry smiled at the elf.
"Dobby can."
"Excellent. Give me a minute." Harry turned to face the bare expanse of wall that he knew housed the Room of Requirement. "I need a space to plan, I need a space to plan, I need a space to plan." He muttered and paced back and forth, sighing in relief when a door melted into being in front of him. He stepped forward and opened the door. "Come on in, Dobby." And the two entered the Room. "Give me another minute." He held up a hand when Dobby opened his mouth to speak.
The elf nodded and closed his mouth, settling back a few steps.
"Thanks, Dobby." Harry gave him a grin and took a deep breath. "Expecto patronum." The huge stag exploded from his wand and, after a sweeping glance around the room, turned to Harry. "I need you to take a message to Sirius Black." The stag nodded and opened its mouth in preparation to absorb the message. "Sirius. I need you to land the hippogriff, right now. We have a problem." Harry nodded and the stag closed its mouth. "Thanks." The stag nodded and vanished into the nearest wall and Harry turned face Dobby.
"As soon as Sirius and Buckbeak land, I need you to go to him. Can you bring him here?"
"Dobby cannot. Dobby cannot bring anyone through the Hogwarts wards. Dobby can only move someone inside of them or outside of them, but not through them." The elf shook his head.
"Bugger. Can you feel Sirius? Where he is?"
"Dobby can. Harry Potter's dogfather is standing beside the birdie-horse in a forest." Dobby said.
"Good. When I send the next Patronus, I want you to go to him, hopefully he will give you a task. To retrieve a pair of communication mirrors." Harr said.
"Why cannot Harry Potter send Dobby?" The elf asked.
"I don't know where the mirrors are, only that they exist. Sirius knows, he made them." Harry answered.
Dobby just nodded.
"Expecto patronum." Harry paused until the stag stood in front of him. "I want you to take a message to Sirius Black." The stag nodded and opened its mouth. "The elf is Dobby, you can trust him. Send him to get the mirrors, Siri. We need to talk face to face and right now? The mirrors are the closest we can get. Please?" Harry nodded and the stag left. "Go to Sirius, Dobby."
The next few minutes seemed endless to Harry. This had to work, it just had to.
Eventually, Dobby reappeared and in his skinny little hands there was a simple rectangular mirror.
"Harry Potter's dogfather sends this to Harry Potter." The elf handed Harry the mirror.
"Thank you, Dobby. Could you get me something to eat? Some sandwiches and maybe a jug of juice?" Harry clasped the mirror to his chest.
"Dobby will." The little elf beamed and popped away.
Harry took a deep breath and held the mirror in front of himself. "Sirius Black." The mirror's surface went from Harry's image to that of a dirty scruffy man, in dire need of a bath and a shave.
"Harry?"
"Sirius…" Harry was nearly in tears.
"What is it? What's wrong?" Sirius was alarmed at Harry's expression.
"I…" Harry took a calming breath. "I need you to sit down, Sirius, I need to tell you a story and you need to let me finish, before you say anything. Can you do that? Please?" Harry begged.
"I don't know, pup. I can try, but I don't know if I'll succeed."
"Try, please try. I need your help and if you can't listen, you can't help."
Sirius titled his head and nodded. "Go ahead." He said slowly, clearly focusing on Harry.
"Today is the 6th of June 1994. Hermione and I rescued you from a tower, she blasted the door open and we flew from there to the Clocktower's courtyard. Right?" Harry asked.
"Yes, but that was only a few hours ago, Harry." Sirius frowned.
"It might have been for you, but for me that was nearly four years ago. I-"
"Harry, stop." Sirius threw his head back and swore. "Bloody bollocks!"
"Sirius?"
"You remember the fight in the Ministry?" Sirius asked and Harry heart nearly burst from his chest.
"You remember?" Harry gasped. "You remember Bellatrix and the veil?"
Sirius nodded. "I do."
"What was the last thing you said to me?" Harry demanded in a hard tone, completely at odds with his young face.
"You've done beautifully… now let me take it from here." Sirius obediently replied.
"Oh, shit…" Harry whispered. "You really do remember."
"I do. Now, tell me, what happened after that? How did you get here? Tell me everything."
"Well, after you… I ran after Bellatrix, I wanted to… I wanted to hurt her as much as she'd hurt me. I wanted to, but I couldn't. I tried and failed. Which, looking back, isn't such a bad thing. I chased her up into the atrium and…" for twenty long minutes Harry told his godfather everything that had happened between the 18th June 1996 and the 3rd of May 1998. "… and I stepped into the veil." Harry said.
"Oh, pup…" Sirius whispered.
"But that's not all."
"Not all? How? What else is there?" Sirius demanded.
"I woke in the hospital wing, in my usual bed, Hermione to one side of me and Ron to the other. But…?"
"But…?"
"They're not my Ron and Hermione."
"What do you mean?"
"My Ron didn't start to grow until he was nearly fifteen, his first growth spurt was over Christmas in fourth year, remember? He ate everything in sight. And this Ron is tall, as tall as the hospital beds are long. And he has darker hair, more the colour of Percy's. And Hermione? My Hermione had wild bushy hair and big buck teeth until fourth year, the Hermione here has neat sleek curls and perfect sized teeth." Harry explained.
"O-kaayy…" Sirius dragged the word out to last quite a few seconds. "So, why didn't you go straight to Dumbledore? And tell him, I mean?"
"Dumbledore…" Harry hesitated, the Headmaster's betrayal was still so fresh in his mind. "Dumbledore… he knew about the horcruxes… the night mum and dad were killed… he knew the moment he saw me. He… I watched Snape's memories, I saw the conversation with Dumbledore. Snape may have hated me, but he was gutted when he figured out that Dumbledore was basically… in Snape's own words… 'raising me like a pig for slaughter'. I was to die at Voldemort's wand. I was a Horcrux."
Sirius' eyes went wide and an ugly flush settled on his face. "Dumbledore knew?" His voice was strained.
"He knew, he expected me to die." Harry whispered.
"Dumbledore knew." This time it wasn't a question.
"Yes." Harry answered, anyway.
"Dumbledore knew and did nothing."
"Nothing at all." Harry nodded.
"What about all the training he said you were getting?"
"No. The only training I got that I didn't teach myself, was from Snape and that sucked. He kept attacking me, mentally, under the guise of occlumency lessons." Harry shook his head.
"Nothing? Nothing at all?" Sirius didn't know whether to be angry or horrified.
"Not a thing. The closest I got was 'private lessons' with Dumbledore, which was really just pensieve trips into Voldemort's past."
"Urgh… Gross…" Sirius screwed up his face.
"Very." Harry nodded. "And while this Dumbledore might not be our Dumbledore, can we really afford to take that chance. This is my life and I don't want to go through that, again."
Sirius took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. "Alright. What's the plan?"
"I need to get out of here, out of Dumbledore's control, but it has to be done in such a way that no-one will ever find me." Harry shrugged. "How? I don't know. That's why I need you. You're a marauder and that's my best hope right now."
"Hmm…" Sirius hung the mirror on a broken branch and began to pace, in the distance behind him, Harry could see Buckbeak settling down for a nap.
Seconds passed and became minutes, almost an hour passed before Sirius turned to face Harry.
"What lengths are you prepared to go to?" The escapee asked.
"Depends on the plan. How likely is it to fail?"
"From my end? Zero percent likely. Your end is going to be the hard bit. That depends on how much help you can get from that special room of yours." Sirius warned.
"Well that depends, if it can be done inside the room, I can get pretty much anything. Taking things out is the problem." Harry remembered telling Sirius and Remus about the room and what it provided for the D.A.
"Good. My plan is…" Sirius rolled his eyes and his head in one motion. "… Extreme, is the politest description."
"Tell me."
"It comes down to what you need." Sirius began. "You need an authentic ID, something that is not Harry Potter."
Harry raised both eyebrows. "Magically changing my name won't work, Siri. Dumbledore has my blood in his little gadgets. They track my health and general location."
"Yeah, I remembered, but I wasn't thinking magical name change. I was thinking either a blood adoption or a blood conversion. Both change your blood and will render his gadgets useless."
"I'm not familiar with either of them." Harry frowned.
"A blood adoption adds a new parent for each person adopting you. But you will still be the son of James and Lily. Got it?" Sirius waited until Harry nodded before continuing. "But a blood conversion overrides your existing family and you end up with new parents." He grimaced. "There's upsides and downsides to both."
"For the blood adoption?" Harry asked.
"You'd gain another parent or two, but you'd still be James and Lily's son and would be Harry Potter-something-else. Not really our best bet." Sirius allowed.
"And for the conversion?"
"You get a whole new family, including new parents, but you'd lose any legal or magical connection to James and Lily." Sirius said it blandly, with no inflection in his voice.
"And you think that's the best option?" Harry blinked in surprise.
"Partially." Sirius grimaced again. "The biggest problem I can see is actually the prophecy's Boy-Who-Lived crap."
"Yeah, I don't like that."
"Unfortunately, you don't have a lot of options there. You either put up with it or…"
"…or…?" Harry squinted at Sirius.