WARNING: This chapter deals with a short panic attack at the very end. I do not know if it could actually be triggering to anybody but I prefer to err on side of caution and say it starts just after "That's at this exact instant Harry realized just how fucked he was" and should end at "Finally, colours came back."
Thank you.
"Elda!" Galatea Merrythought greeted with a wide smile as she spotted a young and extremely beautiful blonde witch.
The beautiful witch turned around and, seeing her, walked in her direction to hug her.
"It's been so long!" Elda exclaimed. "How's life treating you, Galatea?"
"Good, good," she cheerfully answered. "I thought I'd get bored here but the students are keeping me on my toes."
"Nothing too tedious I hope."
"No, no. Far from it. There's for example a couple Fifth Years that I think have what it takes for-"
"Ah, ah." Elda raised a finger. "No influencing the examiners before the examinations, my friend."
She sighed and gave the witch a sly smile. "You saw right through me. But enough about me, what about you? How are things between you and Frank?"
The pretty witch sighed. "It's… complicated. I thought it was serious and he was about to propose but… Maybe he's not as keen as I am. And maybe it's better if we just-" She sighed again. "I'd rather not talk about it."
"If there is anything I can do," Galathea seriously said, "I want you to know I'm here."
"Thank you."
"I'm serious. If he breaks your heart or hurts you, I will gladly lend you my wand."
She smiled.
"Hopefully, it won't be needed."
Harry intently looked at the cards in front of him, then looked at Black's impassive face. After a moment, he finally made his choice.
"I fold."
Black sighed and showed Harry his hand. Full house.
Harry only had a flush.
There had been many strange things Harry has done in divination, but learning poker took the cake.
"Do not show weakness in front of your examiner," Professor Mesmer repeated to the rest of the class. "Or anybody whose future you're predicting. The examiners will attempt to push you into making a mistake, say something to destabilize you and force you to show them where you're falling short. Your poker face in other words must be perfect. Also, the fact you have a third eye does not mean it is a good idea not to use the other two or stop listening. Take a good feel of your examiner and adapt yourself to them. All in all, divination is a very elaborate poker game. You need to see which cards they have in hand, spot their tell and get into their head before making them think you know more than you actually do. Often, it's them who will tell you what you need. Well I say this is basically Divination, it is also true to your other magical courses so pretend you've got everything covered and don't let them see you haven't revised anything in Charms. And finally, if they ask you to make a prediction, make one that will not be fulfilled before August."
"Why, sir?" the blonde Weasley asked.
"Because that way you can bluff as much as you want and they won't be able to take you points should you be utterly wrong, think it through."
Harry supposed he should have seen this coming. Of course Mesmer's final lesson would be about bluffing their way through their OWLs.
After asking Phineas for the time, the Divination Professor said, "And that's it. Time for us to say good bye. It was a pleasure to teach you and I hope everything will go smoothly for your OWLs. And remember: more than the cards that were given to you, it is what you will do with them that will decide whether you win or lose."
Elphias drank the whole vial of calming draught. He then grimaced.
"You've got this," Albus tried to encourage him. "You've worked the entire year, there is no reason for anything to go wrong. You've got this."
The blonde gave him a mopey smile. "I've got this," he peacefully repeated. "And if I don't, I am sure not getting the marks needed to work in the Ministry of magic won't be the end of the world."
"Exactly-"
"It's not the end of the world if they break my wand and tell me to leave the Wizarding world." He serenely nodded. "I mean, muggles get by just fine. I may be terrible in muggle studies, it's not as if it'll really matter if I become a tramp."
Albus paused. "Now that's-"
"Or maybe I'll start working in a travelling circus and I'll be so terrible at cleaning the cage a lion will eat me." He softly sighed. "If the lions eat me, I want you to know you get my chocolate frogs cards, Albus."
The calming draught might not have been a good idea.
Harry thought he did okay in the written exams.
There a couple of times he had hesitated, not knowing if what he was about to write had been discovered yet but he was pretty sure he had managed to deal with that problem just fine. Also Albus had been annoying his housemates so much into not neglecting the written portion he had almost mechanically written all he got and even added more on each subject when Harry realized he still had fifteen minutes to kill.
To be honest, Harry wasn't particularly worried or stressed. He had literally spent two years preparing himself for these bloody OWLs and had now reached the point when he simply wanted to be done with it. As long as he got good marks in the practical parts and got an Outstanding in Divination, he didn't really care.
The only thing he was truly worried about was falling asleep in History of magic, really.
Albus peacefully sat next to Elphias as they both waited for their name to be called.
"Everything is going to be alright, Elphias."
"Easy for you to say," Elphias mumbled. "You're great in Charms."
"You're not bad either, Elphias."
"I know but- Will it be enough for me to get an E?"
Albus opened his mouth to answer.
The door on Albus' right opened and a Hufflepuff left the room in tears. She ran past them, sobbing.
Elphias stilled and horrifyingly looked at him.
"You'll do great," Albus mouthed.
Very slowly, Elphias got up and began walking to the door.
Elphias had barely entered the room a Ravenclaw left it, face grave.
He supposed it was his turn.
Albus closed his eyes, took a deep breath and left his chair to enter Classroom 4 for his Charms practical exam.
"Mister Dumbledore, I think Professor Tofty is free," said Professor Dippet, who was standing just inside the door once he saw Albus. He pointed Albus toward what looked like a red-haired middle-aged wizard.
After thanking his Charms Professor, Albus walked in his direction. "Good morning, Professor," Albus greeted the man.
"Good morning," Professor Tofty absent-mindedly answered as he checked his notes. "Mister Dumbledore, I'm going to hand you an iguana and you will be asked to charm it as we-"
He stopped talking when he finally raised his head and saw the pink iguana in front of Albus.
Albus amiably smiled. "What do you want me to show you, sir?" he amiably asked as he pretended he hadn't just done very complex conjuration non-verbally.
Albus got the feeling he was going to enjoy this part.
All in all, Harry thought he had done very well in Charm. Unlike the last time, Harry hadn't made any big mistake like confusing two charms and had even succeeded in turning his iguana the colour of a rainbow.
It had quite an effect on his examiner, so Harry got the feeling he might actually get an O.
He closed his book and decided to call it a day. As he walked the stairs leading to the boys' dormitories, he couldn't stop himself from bemusedly shaking his head at the crowd harassing Albus for his advices and one last advice for how to deal with transfiguration tomorrow.
The next day was roughly the same, with written exams in the morning and the practical exam in the afternoon. After an entire year of Albus harassing him in Transfiguration, Harry couldn't say he was particularly worried about which mark he'd get.
On Wednesday, they had Herbology and Harry wrote all he knew about mandrakes and managed not to bet attacked by his fanged geranium. And then on Thursday, it was Defence Against the Dark Arts.
If Harry has had the distinct feeling in 1996 to have gotten an O in Defence, it was nothing compared to now. He had given the five signs identifying a werewolf and thought he had given a very clear answer on the killing curse, though an outdated one considering what he knew.
"Potter, I think Professor Young is free," Professor Dippet said when he entered the room for the practical exam. Pointing at a very beautiful witch, he added. "I'd wish you good luck, but I don't think you actually need it."
Harry nodded and walked in the direction of his examiner.
Professor Young was beautiful, Harry couldn't help noticing. As in, Fleur Delacour beautiful. Sun-kissed blonde hair, deep blue eyes and a rather slender figure, she was so beautiful Harry couldn't help blushing.
"Name?" the witch asked him.
"Har-Harry Potter."
The witch nodded as she wrote his name down and Harry was surprised once more at the utter lack of reaction his name brought here.
"Very well, we'll begin with the disarming charm."
Harry grinned and raised his wand.
There was a reason why his classmates hated that charm. And the more she asked of him, the more confident he got.
When the smiling witch asked him if there was a spell he wanted to try for bonus points, Harry couldn't stop himself from showing off.
As always, Prongs made quite an impression.
"A stag," Elda excitedly told her friend as Galatea was eating during dinner. "That boy just casted a fully corporeal patronus, can you believe it?"
Galatea swallowed. "I've been told this stag was quite a sight, yes."
"Was it you who taught him the patronus?" she asked. "You told me you were helping a student, was it him?"
"No and no. He could already cast the patronus when he came here this year and I'm helping another student."
Elda tilted her head. "Considering you were known for this charm, I would have thought you'd be more interested."
Griselda smiled. "I admit I regret not seeing that patronus, but Mister Potter is not one to enjoy attention. Ever since he's been here, it's been clear to me he doesn't want people to bother him and I have the feeling proposing my help him will do more harm than good."
Elda frowned and Griselda sighed.
She supposed it was normal for her friend to miss it. She was after all a scholar and only people with her experience could recognize the eyes of a survivor. She didn't know if that was linked with him coming here but from the moment he's raised his wand against her on the day they met and jumped to avoid what had looked like a killing curse, it had been obvious the boy had learnt defence not because he wanted to but because he had to.
Still, she wondered what would bring a fifteen years old to learn one of the most complex charms that existed in order to be shielded from Dementors, creatures that while extremely dangerous were working with the Ministry of magic in Azkaban and never seen in the UK. Because, if somebody like Harry Potter would learn such complex magic, it had to be because at one point he had to.
"We'll see next year, I suppose. I must admit I had a busy year." Finishing her dish, she asked Elda, "Are you really sure you don't want anything, Elda?"
The witch grimaced. "I'd rather not. I don't know why but the smell… I haven't stopped throwing up lately and I don't want to tempt my luck. Still, I don't know which optional course he's taken, but I hope I'll have to interrogate him again."
"Why?"
Elda smirked.
"Why, to see how he fares under pressure of course."
"You've never told me you could conjure a fully corporeal patronus," Albus reproached the next day during lunch once he has heard about the incident.
Harry shrugged. "Didn't really see the point."
Albus blankly looked at him.
Harry tried not to chuckle. "Is it true you sat the Muggle Studies exam?"
"That I did," he confirmed. "I must admit, Elphias' face was rather comical when he saw me. And I will also attempt to pass Divination tomorrow."
Harry paused. "I thought you believed Divination was a lot of rubbish."
Albus sagely nodded. "True, true. Very true. However, I must admit I am hoping to get an outstanding in all the courses Hogwarts is teaching and for this reason quickly read Elphias' book. And also, I will attempt to see how the science of deduction will help me into 'predicting' the future."
"The science of deduction," Harry stated.
"Well, more like induction really. Doctor Doyle however called it deduction so I suppose it hardly matters." Seeing Harry's befuddled face, he explained. "Doctor Doyle is a muggle author who wrote a few stories in the Strand magazine about a muggle who-"
"I know Sherlock Holmes," he interrupted.
Albus' face suddenly brightened. "You do?" he breathed before babbling, "Which story is your favourite? I admit mine is The Final Problem even though I admit I was slightly upset when -"
"Slightly?" Elphias incredulously exclaimed. "Don't think anybody here forgot Second Year, Albus. So, please, we beg you, stop talking about that muggle."
The other Gryffindors seriously nodded.
Harry snickered at the sight of Albus' outraged face.
"Professor Young is free," Professor Mesmer said when it was finally time for Harry to sit his OWL in Divination. "Remember, it's O or nothing so work for it."
Once Harry sat in front of the woman, she asked in a melodious and angelic voice "Harry Potter, correct?" She checked her notes and nodded to herself. "Very well, I suppose we should begin with chiromancy." Extending her hand, she added, "What do you see in my future, Mister Potter?"
Harry with a trembling hand took her in his and pretended to look at it.
She had such a nice perfume, he noticed. Not unlike the sweets Albus liked lately and which changed taste every two bites before exploding into a small firework in your mouth.
Speaking of Albus…
Harry paused and looked and cautiously looked at her. "You're right-handed, right?"
The witch gave him a sweet smile. "I'm left-handed actually. Why?"
"To read your future, the non-dominant hand must be used," he began explaining. "If you're left-handed, I need to read your right hand, not the left hand."
"Oh really," she said as she took her quill with said left hand and wrote something in the notebook in front of her. "My most sincere apologies. But then again, I would have thought you would have foreseen this."
Harry blankly looked at her. The witch's smile stayed.
"The Higher Being," Harry curtly answered as she rolled her eyes, "works in mysterious ways. It also shows us what is going to happen, not what you are. It will show you giving me your left hand, it will not tell me you're left-handed."
And Harry who had thought after Defence the witch liked her.
"Very well then." Handing him the right hand she said, "What can you tell me about my future?"
Harry slowly took her right hand and considered the lines he could see. Tracing her life line with his finger, he said, "You will have a long life."
"Yes, but what is long exactly? Because a long life doesn't mean the same thing for a muggle and a wizard. You're being rather vague here. Is it possible for me to get a number? How long will I live exactly, Mister Potter?"
That was not in the curriculum.
Harry briefly looked at the innocent-looking witch.
"I can conjure a measuring tape if you need."
It took all his efforts for Harry not to scowl.
"There are many parameters to consider," he slowly began. "But while I could give you a rough approximation, I should warn you that a long life is not the guarantee of a good one."
"Ah but if the concept of a long life is relative, isn't the concept of a good one even more subjective?"
Harry had to remind himself cursing his examiner was a terrible idea.
"N-Naturally." The witch smirked and Harry tried to put on his best poker face. "But isn't everything in this world relative in some way?"
"Is it really now?"
"I just meant that with the time we have at our disposal I can either predict one or the other, but not the two."
The witch hummed a moment.
"I suppose you're right. So tell me then: which one will I ask you to predict? What does your third eye see me picking?"
Now he wanted to murder her.
A bitch like her, the answer had to be: "Neither."
She smirked. "I admit I would kill for a cuppa. No milk, no sugar. We wouldn't want them to influence the magical tea leaves."
As he was handing the woman a teacup, Harry willed the tea to poison itself.
It was obvious the witch didn't believe in divination and she was clearly playing with him, hoping to push him into making a mistake.
"The examiners will attempt to push you into making a mistake, say something to destabilize you and force you to show them where you're falling short."
Harry hadn't thought it would be this serious. It even felt like he was duelling against her and he wasn't sure he wouldn't give himself away at this rate. No, if Harry wanted to survive this hell, he needed to turn the tables on her.
But how?
Something shattered as Harry handed Professor Young her teacup.
They promptly turned their head in the direction of the noise and saw a horrified Hufflepuff girl looking at a smashed crystal ball on the floor.
"Oh, I'm so sorry! I just-"
"It's alright," Professor Tofty tried to reassure the witch. "These sort of accidents happen. No worry. Griselda, would it be alright to borrow your crystal ball a moment?"
Harry's examiner sighed and nodded. "Go ahead, I wasn't planning on using it"
Professor Tofty thanked her and summoned the crystal ball before putting it on his table.
"Well then, where were we?" Griselda Young asked Harry. "Right, the tea-"
But Harry felt like he's just been slapped.
"Your name is Griselda," he numbly said.
He didn't know why but that named somehow sounded quite familiar. But why would it? It's not as if he knew any Griselda-
The witch paused. "Well, yes but-"
And Harry somehow knew.
He screamed.
"You're Griselda Marchbanks!"
The witch startled. "How do you know that name?" the past version of Griselda Marchbanks asked. "Where did you hear the name March-"
"Because it's your name. You're Griselda Marchbanks."
"No, no, no." The previously confident woman nervously shook her head. "My name is Griselda Young."
"Yes, it's your name today but in the future, in the future you're Griselda Marchbanks."
And it should have been obvious. After all, hadn't the old witch said in 1996 she had been Albus Dumbledore's examiner for his NEWTs? That meant she must have also been here for his OWLs. And wasn't Tofty also his former examiner's name?
But that beautiful witch, that angel-
Harry remembered the old witch and shuddered in horror.
Clearly, time hadn't been very kind to her looks.
And Harry couldn't believe he hadn't realized he knew these people and had to impress them again.
"No really, where did you hear the name of Frank Marchbanks?"
"In the future. Y-You are going to marry this Frank Marchbanks."
The witch looked like a deer in the headlights. "No, no, no that's ridiculous. We don't- I mean he doesn't really- I mean we- We're just friends."
Harry blankly looked at her.
"Really!" she insisted, a furious blush on her face.
Harry kept looking at her, considering his next move.
Because Harry understood now. If he wanted to get his O, he had to turn the table on her. But Harry could have a good hand, it meant nothing if he didn't use his trump card correctly.
"I suppose it does not look like it right now," he slowly began as he tried to find the right words. "But I can guarantee you that while you may be Griselda Young today, tomorrow… Tomorrow you will be Griselda Marchbanks."
The witch turned scarlet. Harry leant on his chair and tried to imitate Mesmer's intent look to the best of his abilities as she was drinking her tea in one go.
When she pushed the teacup in his direction, Harry briefly glanced at it before continuing his staring.
No mercy for granny.
"Fascinating what something as innocuous as drinking tea can reveal about a person, no?" he said as if he was talking about the weather. "Admittedly, one must know how to read the leaves but still. Take this cup for example, a few would see there a leaf or a pear while others will see a cat or a wheel. And some will see a baby o-"
"So what now? I'm pregnant?" she snapped.
Harry blinked.
He had never wanted to say that. He had just been fibbing until he could decide what bullshit to sell.
But if the woman was so defensive then maybe…
"You tell me."
For a moment, the woman glared at him. Suddenly, she stilled and, with growing horror, began counting with her fingers once then twice.
There's was something very young and very fragile in her eyes when she stopped counting. As if her whole life had taken a sudden turn and she had no idea what she was supposed to do now.
That's when he knew he's done it. He had his outstanding.
"S-So… Is it a boy or a girl?"
Harry smiled.
"I'll let you keep the surprise."
"Frank," the priest asked the sweating man in front of him, "do you take Griselda here to be your wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part, according to God's holy ordinance?"
The groom sweated and looked around. "W-Well, I… that is to say-"
When the man looked at her, Galatea revealed her wand.
"Of course I do!" he hurriedly answered.
She smiled.
She was such a good friend, Galatea thought as the couple exchanged rings. Maybe Frank would have made a honest woman out of her friend on his own even after his sudden urge to travel to India but why should they take the risk in light of the most recent event? Wasn't it better to hold the wedding ceremony the same day they discovered the man has knocked up her best friend?
She sighed as the new Griselda Marchbanks kissed her husband. She loved weddings. No wedding could top hers naturally but that one was very nice too and she wished all the happiness in the world for the new family.
Considering her role, she really hoped Griselda was going to make her godmother.
Harry fell on his bed.
He's done it. He's sat his OWLs. And he hadn't fallen asleep in History of magic.
That was honestly the only bright side, for Harry had sucked in History. Harry would really be lucky to get an A there.
Harry looked at the ceiling and not the first time wondered if he'd have an easier time in the past had he been actually good at history. Wouldn't it have been like having one of Dudley's video games walkthrough?
All Harry could do was parlour tricks. And while that was good in a way, he wished he had more. Like somebody able to tell him he wasn't fucking everything up.
But Mesmer had been clear: he might help him, he was unable to actually give him that reassurance or point him the right path.
What Harry sought, only a time traveller like him with a keen understanding of history could give him that. And Harry didn't think he would ever meet such person.
Harry closed his eyes and sighed.
After nearly a year here, Harry supposed he had no choice but to hope everything was going to be alright.
Albus had to admit he was relieved the Ordinary Wizarding Level tests were over. Not really because he had found them particularly strenuous, but because his classmates had finally stopped begging to into helping them and asking him to answer even the thriftiest question at the most inopportune time.
He would have to set boundaries for their Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests.
Still, in balance, Fifth Year had been a very good year. Not only had Albus managed to succeed in the goals he had set, he's found other subjects to study in like the concepts of spells like the killing curses summoning more than magic. Also, Albus had to admit he had been very satisfied to watch Gryffindor Quidditch team winning the Quidditch cup and Aberforth's wide grin when he had been asked to sit for the picture of the winning team. Hopefully, that'd be the push he needed to take school more seriously.
Fingers crossed there.
And finally, he thought with a smile as Headmaster Black got up, thanks to his not so meagre help, Gryffindor was once again about to be declared winner for the House Cup.
Like his practical exam, logic and hard work had prevailed over the so-called power of a pendulum.
"Another year ends," Headmaster Black began. "Finally, you will leave this castle and hopefully never come back. Now, before finally getting rid of you, the house cup must be awarded. As of now the points stand thus: in fourth place, Slytherin, with three hundreds points; in third Ravenclaw with three hundreds and eighteen points; in second surprisingly, Hufflepuff, with three hundreds and fourth-six points; and finally, in first place, Gryffindor with three-hundreds and ninety points."
Albus couldn't stop a satisfied smile as storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Gryffindor table.
The Headmaster lowly chuckled.
"Yes, yes, well done, Gryffindor," said Phineas Nigellus Black. "Well done, Gryffindor, well done Gryffindor. However, recent events must be taken into account."
The smiles slowly vanished when the Gryffindors saw the man's smirk. For whenever the man was giving them that smirk, something terrible happened to Gryffindor.
"No way," Harry next to him breathed. "Don't you dare."
"For you see, I still have a few last-minute points to give. Let me see. Yes... First, to Mr. Phineas Black for his remarkable victory in the gobstone bi-annual competition, I award to Slytherin twenty points."
Feeling the glares directed at him, Phineas shrank in his seat.
"But that's not fair!" Aberforth exclaimed at the end of the table.
"Twenty points from Gryffindor for your outburst, Mr. Dumbledore!" the man snapped.
They were still in first place, Albus tried to reassure himself.
"To Mr. Arcturus Black, for his help during the firecrabs' escape, I award Slytherin twenty points."
The Third year smirked.
"Oh come on!" Aberforth shouted. "I did all the work. That bastard just-"
"Twenty point from Gryffindor for your foul language!" he snapped.
Albus quickly did his math and winced.
"We're tied," Elphias whispered. "We're bloody tied."
"And finally," he took a pause, "to Mr. Horace Slughorn for his help in the infirmary, I award Slytherin twenty points."
This time Albus didn't bother listening how many points Headmaster took for his brother's scream of rage.
They were last, probably.
"Which means," Headmaster Black said over Slytherin's excited whispers, "we need a little change of decoration." He clapped his hands. In an instant, the scarlet hangings became green and the gold became silver. "Slytherin wins the house cup."
The Slytherins got up and cheered, some going as far as smirking in the direction of Gryffindor table or thanking a fuming Aberforth for this easy victory.
"This is karma, isn't it?" Harry said.
"Whether it was karma or not I do not know," Albus replied. "But I must admit in my honest opinion awarding points in such fashion undermines the very spirit of the house cup."
Why, he thought, had he been in the Headmaster's place, he would have never done such thing.
When Harry took the Hogwarts Express, Harry felt like he had forgotten something important.
He opened his trunk inside his compartment, but everything seemed to be in order.
"What are you going to do this summer, Albus?" Elphias asked as Harry tried to remember what could possibly be missing.
"Nervously expecting the result on the potion competition, I suppose," Albus mused. "And if I do win it, preparing myself for the resulting ceremony. Apart from that, I suppose I will spend my days sulking in my bedroom and awaiting September."
"Trust Albus not to enjoy holidays," Elphias laughed. "You're the only one I know who would rather spend his time at Hogwarts than stay at home."
That's when Harry horrifyingly realized that now that he had left Hogwarts he had nowhere to go.
The train stopped.
Harry stilled as the others in his compartment got up to grab their respective suitcase and bid each other goodbye.
"Until next year, Harry," Albus said as he grabbed his owl cage and left the compartment without looking behind, Elphias soon following him.
How could he have forgotten something like that? he numbly thought. How could he have forgotten that nobody was going to be waiting for him, that he had nowhere to go and not a single knut on him?
Did he give so little importance to his relatives he had never once realized they at least brought him a roof and were the guarantee he'd have a place to eat and sleep no matter what?
Slowly, Harry got up and, as if he was in a dream, grabbed his trunk.
He left the empty train and looked at the almost deserted platform, lost.
On the other side of platform 9 and ¾ was the muggle world. And this time no family was waiting for him.
Harry looked at the wall separating him from the 19th century muggle world, unsure. Finally he went through the wall, leaving the wizarding world behind.
The first thing Harry noticed was the smell. The disgusting smell of smog and manure outside Harry could smell even from where he stood.
Harry violently coughed.
A woman in a light blue Victorian dress looked away as if he was some strange and disgusting creature before entering the car of a train not unlike the one Harry's just left.
That's at this exact instant Harry realized just how fucked he was.
He was in Victorian Lonon. He was in Charles Dickens' London where orphans like Oliver Twist had to work to exhaustion to barely get enough food to live tomorrow. He was in Jack the Ripper's London and could get killed at any time. He was penniless, forbidden to use his wand and he was alone in this cruel and foreign world. He was alone and he was probably never going to go home.
He couldn't breathe, he horrifyingly realized. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe. He was at King's Cross and he couldn't breathe.
So that was it, Harry thought as his heart began beating like crazy and black spots appeared. That's how he was going to die. He was going to die here. At Kings Cross. In the nineteenth century. Very far from home. Alone.
Alone. Very, very alone.
Somebody grabbed his shoulders.
"Breathe," a faraway voice ordered. "Breathe. Focus on my voice and breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale-"
It took a moment for Harry to understand what the voice was saying. When he did he tried to follow its order and hang unto them like a sinking man to a lifebuoy.
Each breath felt like his last. Still, after an eternity the horror seemed to subside and his heart didn't seem like it was going to tear his chest apart and run away.
Finally, colours came back. Green first. Two green dots lost in the darkness. As everything became sharper, Harry realized what he was seeing were not dots but actual eyes. Eyes so familiar he felt like he should recognize them on the spot.
"Feeling better?" the eyes asked and Harry wondered how eyes could talk.
And then Harry realized it were not the eyes that were talking but the man looking at him with said eyes.
A man Harry actually knew for they had met during Mesmer's party.
"Feeling better?" Patrick Evans asked again. "I thought for a second you were a goner here. Now, do you think you will be alright or do you want me to help you find your relatives?"
