Summary: (AU) The final battle has been won, but was it worth the cost? Harry, alone and determined, sets out to rewrite history for a better world. Pity the bloody time-turner isn't working right…

Disclaimer: All belongs to the one and only J.K.Rowling

…Chapter Five…

In The Aftermath

"…A disaster at the highest level… calamity making way for leges of pandemonium… injuries bring the under-staffed wards of St Mungo's Hospital to distress…"

"Do think that's just slightly overdramatic?"

"Wait, it gets better: …the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was notified after some dillydaddling of the Professors'… a small team of the most hardy Aurors were quickly taken from the battle in Muggle London and assessed the situation at the school…

A snort.

"…when deemed ready to make a suitable line of defence, the Ministry pulled those it could into defeating the Dementors at England's top magical school… success was quickly upheld, with no students hurt…

"Oh, and listen to this bit - …in all ways regarding the school, Albus Dumbledore's actions were appalling, only bringing further destruction upon all those present… what a load of -"

"I give up, stop reading. I don't want to hear it any more."

"You'd have thought the whole of England had been killed, the way she's prattled on. A …manifestation of incompetence… indeed."

Remus threw the paper down, scowling.

Harry shivered. "I hate Dementors."

His words still sounded odd to his own ears, his voice crackled and croaking. The familiar ward gave him comfort though, as did the sounds of Madam Pomfrey finnicing about her other patients; a small boy suffering from elephant sized ears, wincing at the faintest noises, and an older girl, a sixth year Ravenclaw, with a lovely shade of turquoise coloured skin.

"Yes, well," Remus smiled. "I can't imagine anyone actually liking them."

They were in the hospital wing, sitting up on the squishiest beds next to one another. Sinistra lay peacefully unconscious on Harry's other side. Snape had left a good half hour before, claiming he had much better things to do then waste his weekend chatting to them. Harry rather thought his departure had much more to do with the obvious loathing he felt towards them both.

"No, of course not," Harry agreed, sighing. "But I really, really hate them." He paused for a moment, considering if it were wise to continue. "My Boggart even takes the form of one."

Remus raised both eyebrows, clearly impressed with this declaration. "To fear but fear itself! Very wise. I wonder, would it be asking too much…"

"Yes?"

"Might you be interested in helping me with my seventh year class?" He asked it slowly, measuring the other mans reaction. "Only, as you can imagine, in recent light of the Dementors' attack, I've been trying to come up with a way I could teach the class the Patronus charm. And what better way to practice than on a Boggart?"

Harry smiled fondly. "I'd be glad to help in any way I can. As it happens, I learnt the charm by way of a Boggart too."

Remus smiled back, quite pleased. "Five teachers, Hadi. Five, out of the entire staff, are able to conjure a Patronus. It's pitiful, embarrassing. But mark my words, we may have been much worse off yesterday then it seemed. Really, unless the war ends soon -which I highly, sadly doubt- this next generation has to be better prepared, it's unquestionable."

Harry nodded, wishing the werewolf would move on to a more enjoyable subject matter. The war depressed him, as it always had - he hated talking about it. Feeling impatient, wanting to talk with Remus as he had once, Harry heedlessly carried on, the first bubbling of impatience growing. He wanted to be rash and impulsive, and he wanted this to be his Remus, no other - he needed Remus to trust him again, to guide him. "And what is your Boggart?" Harry smiled innocently, pretending to guess. "A spider? A clown?" A pause. "The moon, perhaps?"

Remus paled instantly, his lips disappeared, his fists clenched. He could not have looked more bare, more so completely, shamefully frightened, then if Harry had stood atop his bed and screamed his 'condition' to the whole world.

Harry regretted it immediately. "I wont tell, I promise."

"How do you know?" his voice was sharp, thrashing. It lashed out at Harry like a knife, cutting through the uncomfortable, painful silence.

"I can See it," Harry explained quietly, glad for the excuse of his 'Divination Powers'. Though, when Harry dared look him in the eye again, it was quite plain that Remus did not seem the least bit believing.

"Oh, really?" It wasn't a question.

Harry frowned, annoyed. Any lingering comfort he had felt minutes before left him then, and all that remained was a troubled, angry need to do something, anything, to get his old life back on track. He shouldn't need to watch what he said in front of Remus - it wasn't fair that he had to gain his trust, his friendship all over again. It wasn't fair that he had been here all this time and not seen or heard of Sirius once - he did not know for sure if his godfather was even alive!

It wasn't fair that he could live in the same world as his parents, breathe the same air, speak to the same people, but not have them even notice him.

It wasn't fair that he couldn't talk to Ron or Hermione, that they weren't there to help and comfort him.

And it wasn't fair that he couldn't be with Ginny, tell her everything would be alright, that he would make everything alright, when it wasn't appropriate to be alone in the same room with her.

The injustice spread through him, burning his skin and eating away raw anger. He hated it.

If he didn't do something soon, make some move, declaration or decision, take some form of a decent risk, surely he would die from the trap of it all. People don't liked to be locked up. But now, Harry grudgingly realised, he had done it to himself. But he had to get out. He had to see them. He had to do something.

It was suspicious, Harry knew, to leave Remus there on that note, but right then he couldn't care less. The large clock hanging above the exit told him it was noon. Perfect.

"You know what?" Harry asked, sliding off the bed. His legs ached terribly, his back was stiff and cramped, but Harry ignored it all. "I'm really hungry… think I'll go down to the hall for some lunch." He was already at the door. "See you later!" Harry cried back, feigned cheerfulness.

He stormed down the corridor, frightening the passing students in his wake, stomped down three sets of undeserving stairs and rounded a corner so ferociously a portrait shrieked. Harry was so suddenly in such a foul mood, wanting so much to have things go for once in his favour, that it wasn't until he was passing Hagrids' hut that he realised just how cold it was outside, new snow falling down on his thin cloak.

And it was just then as he began to slow down, treading the old path to Hogsmeade, shivers running down his spine, that Harry began to feel a little guilty. A little sulky, a little embarrassed, a little like now he just wanted to crawl under his bed and never come out. It had been a while since he had thrown a tantrum, or acted so immature.

Where could he find his parents, or Sirius? Did he dare to simply walk into the Ministry, stand in front of a desk and introduce himself.

"Hi, I'm Harry Potter. We're, well er.. kind of, related."

No. Definitely not.

His thoughts continued on such plans as he walked on further, dreaming of encounters where he dressed himself as a vampire and asked his mother if she would be interested in donating blood, or he would track down his father and tell him they were long lost cousins.

Harry entered into the main street with the smallest of smiles on his face, content for the moment to live in his fantasies. Cho Chang, however, had other plans.

"Hadi!"

"HADI!"

Harry stopped, just outside of the Three Broomsticks, and began to slowly, grudgingly, turn around.

"Where have you been?" Cho commanded, appearing at his right side, hands on her hips and eyebrows raised high.

Harry really could not be bothered with the act. Dear Merlin, it had only been a week.

She bounded right up to him, thick coats swinging, and engulfed him in a gigantic hug. "I've been so worried, with the attack and everything -"

"I'm sorry," Harry cut her off. "I should have wrote you sooner, I've just been really busy."

Cho smiled, not noticing his tone of great annoyance and insincerity, and proceeded to tie her fluffy pink scarf around his neck. "You must be freezing!" she scolded, rubbing her hands up his arms. "Why didn't you dress better?"

"Er… I left the castle in a rush…"

"Oh? Whatever for?" Cho blushed, already thinking she knew the real answer. "Not for… not for me?"

He almost laughed. Almost.

"Yes, of course," Harry pained a smile. "I had to let you know I was ok."

Cho sniffed, clearly very happy with this answer, and tried to suffocate him in another hug. "Why don't we go inside?" She motioned to the bustling pub, talking into his wet hair. "It's so nice and warm in there, and we have so much catching up to do!"

Before he could answer she had grabbed his hand and was pulling him inside, through the welcoming door and into the inviting chaos. It was lively and crowded, the noise deafening his ears, peoples faces -some he knew well, some he did not- flashed past as the pair made their way to the back of the room, Cho seating them next to the biggest fireplace.

And he had walked head on back into another cage, yet again.

…pppqqq…

Severus Snape had watched her capture him, and laughed quietly to himself as she dragged the young man inside. He had heard of Hadi Evans besting the students in his much loved classes, seen him battle Dementors with a look of all knowing triumph plastered on his face. He was sure, in fact, that they would not have made it in the attack of Dementors if he had not been with them. And yet, Severus sniggered, the man was easily undone with a pretty face.

He stared harder at Hadi, looking for something more… something to use against him, something he could pretend was a reason to hate the man more. Oh, how he looked so much like that dratted James Bloody Potter. It was one of Severus' favourite games.

Severus slumped further into his chair to get a better view, leaning on the wall behind him, hidden in the corner of the pub by a tail run of streamers, not yet removed from the New Year celebrations.

Hadi wasn't taking much care to look at ease or even mildly chirpy - no, on the contrary he was all but openly frustrated. Perhaps Chang had not done so good a job at seducing Evans as he'd originally thought. In fact, Severus frowned, Hadi looked so taken with his own emotions he may have forgotten -which would make him largely more vulnerable- to put his shields in their proper place.

He grinned, thin lips arced skyward.

Gently, ever so gently, Snape began to reach out, pulling tiny strands of magic from within himself and forcing them, ever so gently, through the barrier of Evans. There was a reason to the acclaim of Snape's Mastery in Legilimency.

He paused, letting the stream of magic trickle slowly at it's own pace, flooding the floors of Evans's mind unnoticed. Snape leant forward, resting his head in his hands, his eyes closed tight. All he had to do was wait, hoping his fellow Professor would not notice -or track- the source steadily invading him. Snape breathed slowly, careful to not over exert himself or rush, waiting patiently for an image to come to him. And come it would.

Gradually, the faintest colour began to grow and blossom in his closed sight.

Lurid, bright and artificial, emerald green.

The green of Hadi Evan's eyes.

The green of the killing curse.

And names ticked off a list, whispering tauntingly into his ears, those Evans was primarily thinking about; James Potter. Lily Potter. Sirius Black. They swam in a circle of three, repeated again and again and again. James Potter. Lily Potter. Sirius Black. James Potter. Lily Potter. Sirius Black. Faster and faster, they continued to spin and spin and spin, obsessively. It was enough to make anyone crazy.

He wanted to… find them? To talk to them? To know them?

James Potter. Lily Potter. Sirius Black.

Or just for them to know him?

Severus delved deeper, plunging his magic beyond the surface of Hadi Evan's thoughts and deep into his memories, pulling one out at random.

He was nervous, so very nervous. And quite a bit queasy.

Snape saw a small boy with a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair and bright green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Sellotape and he had a scar on his forehead, half hidden beneath messy bangs, the shape of a lightening bolt. All was black around him. He couldn't see a thing. Then a small voice began to whisper in his ear. 'Hmm. Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting… So where shall I put you?'

Snape knew that voice, he was sure. But it couldn't be… it wasn't possible…

Hadi Evans had never gone to Hogwarts, he was most certain of that. Dumbledore, McGonagall, one of them would have recognised him, even if he was disguised under a potion or a charm. And the Sorting Hat, he was sure, positive, it was about to put the boy in Slytherin, but…

"Hello, Severus. Are we having fun?"

Snape took a sharp intake of breath, cutting his threads of magic off and unintentionally ending his connection to Evans. Damn it.

"Shut it, Mad-Eye," Severus snarled, his eyes not leaving Hadi's face.

Evans's head had turned to blink green -lurid green, death green- eyes in their direction. He frowned, not being able to see the gaze he had felt so strongly boring into the back of his head, and slowly brought his attention back to Chang.

Mad Eye Moody sat down opposite the Potions Professor, leaning forward to see what was attracting his focus so.

"Hmph. That's our mysterious Hadi Evans, is it not?"

"The one and only." Snape was not in the mood to talk. "You haven't met him yet?"

"Oh, I know everything there is to know about the boy - which is absolutely nothing," Moody growled, taking his notorious hip flask from his side. The nerve of him- to waltz inside of a pub and drink another beverage…

"Hmph," Snape didn't reply, but a thin, rare smile began to creep it's way around his mouth. Because it was rare these days for the Potions Master to find anything he deemed amusing enough to smile about. And now he knew something, of sorts, that no one else did, and that was always something that had been able to make him most happy indeed - no matter to its impossibly confusing nature.

He brought his glass of whisky to lips, making a private toast.

To the power, the sweet merciful power, of knowledge and superiority.

Snape couldn't wait to tell.

…pppqqq…

A/N: Hi. Thought I should also add, 'popping corn' tells us that the name 'Hadi' is pronounced haa-dee. Thanks for reading!