Desiring Other Times

Chapter 2 – Subterfuge

Disclaimer: Death shall rain upon all who say I own HP because I don't.

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They say blood is thicker than water – that family is more important than any of the other bonds we make with other people. Perhaps they have never known of people that have never felt that tugging emotion at their heart, of overwhelming love for their family. It wouldn't surprise me if one day, I could love my friends in a manner that bordered on treating them as if they were my true family.

If I ever meet the person that coined the phrase 'You can't choose your family', I will personally skewer them like a shish kebab.

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I bent my head to Jeremy's ear, and hissed, "You might not be able to act in front of a Malfoy, but I for one am not running away." Slowly, deliberately, I pried his fingers from the sleeve of my robes. Jeremy blinked, once, twice, then seemed to take in the merit of my words. He nodded briefly, then hurried off to join his 'friends' – strange how easily young children make these so called friends.

Vincent and Gregory paused at Jeremy's sudden disappearance, and at Draco's outstretched arm that prevented Vincent from moving past him. Draco scowled at Jeremy's retreating back, then turned to regard me with a far more critical eye – I had not expected for someone else my age to already be so interested in politics, but I wasn't complaining.

"Don't get along with your 'big brother', do you, Harry?" prompted Draco, fishing for information, while only using the most rudimentary of barbs by referring to my 'inferiority' of being born a few minutes later. Nearby, some of the students – probably Muggleborns – gasped/screamed at the sudden appearance of the school ghosts.

I shrugged noncommittally. "Something like that. We don't agree on a lot of things, but that's what siblings are like, I suppose."

Draco nodded understandingly, even though we both knew he was an only child. Quickly glancing at Jeremy, Draco leaned in. "You probably already know that some Wizarding families are much more… superior to others." He looked pointedly at Ron, and his obviously second-hand robes. You don't want to make friends with the wrong sort, Harry – I can help you there." He offered good-naturedly, while I wondered at how quickly we were already on first name terms. Perhaps my brother's presence had caused Draco to be slightly more willing to act friendly in order to ensure the continued healthy relationship between one of the Potter twins and the Malfoy family.

"Perhaps. I'll think about it." I nodded absentmindedly, and was saved from any further conversation by Professor McGonagall's return.

"Come along now, it's time to be Sorted." I supposed even Vincent and Gregory could hear the capital 'S' in the word, considering how much emphasis she had placed on it.

We trailed after the tall witch as she led us through another set of great doors, into the Great Hall. Overhead, the charmed roof (or perhaps it was merely a glass roof?) was a silken black-purple panel, dotted with glowing white and blue stars. Hermione – a few students behind me – whispered something about reading about it in Hogwarts, A History. Beside me, Draco wrinkled his nose, whispering something under his breath that sounded like 'mudblood'.

The Sorting Hat was brought in, and it was Compelled by Headmaster Dumbledore to sing the song that they'd written together. Contrary to popular belief, the hat wasn't entirely responsible for all its actions – while it did possess the capability to Sort students, Headmaster Dumbledore possessed the ability to Compel it to do certain things and also to tag along for a ride into the minds of students as they were Sorted. Father, being descended from Godric Gryffindor (the Hat's original owner), possessed several tomes about the Founding years, and many on the time in between then and now.

Thanks to this, I had already started to learn the 'art' of Occlumency since I was ten, and in the few months that had passed, I was certain I could convince the Hat (and the Headmaster) that the first 'sphere' they entered into was all that existed in my mind. Putting up mental shields – more powerful defensive-wise as they may be – would only alert them to the fact that I had something to hide and my meagre skills could hardly fend off mental penetration on two fronts. Legilimency was something that I practiced from time to time, but I had decided that Occlumency would be a far more useful skill to possess, considering the Sorting and also the fact that it helped me focus my mind.

The Hat was placed on students' heads in alphabetical order, until it finally got to the P's.

"Potter, Harry." intoned Professor McGonagall. She looked at me over her glasses, in a manner I decided was verging on motherly. Almost immediately as she said my name, the students began hissing 'Potter? You mean Jeremy Potter's brother?', and similar.

I picked the Hat up, sat on the stool and pulled the Hat on. Considering it had been an adult's hat (even if, as the generations wore on, humans grew progressively larger), the brim slid down to just below my eyes.

A little tickling sensation seemed to pervade my head, akin to the feeling of swimming underneath the surface of a still pool. The Headmaster's presence was identified as a sort of abnormality to the otherwise 'smooth' probe of the Hat, like the head on a nail. "Ahh, a brilliant mind. Certainly, there is no other place than RAVENCLAW!" The final word was shouted out to the hall, and I grinned at the quick Sorting. I was sure that I had managed to trick both the Hat and the Headmaster, else the Sorting would have surely taken much longer. And might have resulted in my placement in Slytherin, what with my thirst to at the very least be better than Jeremy at something I could help.

Applause sounded and I approached the Ravenclaw table. Across the Hall, I could see Draco giving me a sort of wry smile – if I had been Sorted into Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, I was sure he would be instead regarding me with a look of pure loathing. Ravenclaw, as many pureblood enthusiasts were known to say, would 'do', if not Slytherin.

"You're Jeremy Potter's brother, aren't you?" The questions came thick and fast, and I merely nodded at the first question when all quieted when my brother's name was called.

For almost a minute and a half (mine had taken only ten seconds), Jeremy sat on the stool, the Sorting Hat enveloping the top half of his face. Finally, it let loose with 'Gryffindor!'. The applause was thunderous, with much hooting and foot-stamping. The Weasley Twins chanted 'We got Potter! We got Potter!' and many Gryffindors hurried to shake Jeremy's hand, to introduce themselves to their saviour. Many tried to 'subtly' peek at his scar, a perfectly circular ring with a kind of S-shaped gash in the middle.

While many thought the S was a signifier for Slytherin – the house 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' had been Sorted into – or something similar, the circle never ceased to puzzle. My private theory – that I had never shared with anyone – was that it was the product of some mere coincidence of chances, that the falling, burning rubble of our home and the hurtling furniture in our house had resulted in his scars. Much study on my part revealed that the mark of Zeus – a Grecian god – was a far more likely shape for a scar caused by magic to take, rather than one of the twenty-six letters of the alphabet that just happened to be the initial of a legendary wizard's name. Powerful as Salazar Slytherin may have been, he was still human.

The Sorting progressed until finally the last student (Blaise Zabini) had been Sorted into Slytherin and he had scuttled off to sit by Daphne Greengrass' side.

The Headmaster stood up from his seat, a rather ornately decorated affair. "Welcome," he declared, "Welcome to another year of schooling at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

One of the newly Sorted Ravenclaws near me snorted. "As if we didn't know where we were…" he muttered, and others sniggered.

"Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words." He paused dramatically. "And here they are! Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

I raised an eyebrow at the rather pedestrian – or ancient, depending on how you looked at them – insults. Was he encouraging bullying? Or was he merely having a private joke at the lack of knowledge the people about him had of the English language? Shaking my head, I piled my plate with politely sized servings. What are politely sized servings? Servings that don't make your plate look like a mountain and the owner a pig, of course!

At the Gryffindor table, I could see Ronald Weasley biting alternatively at one drumstick, then another, one held in either hand. Hermione Granger, who was sitting next to Jeremy and two seats down from Ron, could be seen scowling at Ronald's poor table manners. As I tucked into a portion of pot roast, I let my eyes wander over the staff, connecting them with their entries in The Hogwarts Of Today, 256th Edition.

My eyes lingered unwillingly on Severus Snape, thanks to the many stories my father had spun of his school days. A little sense of pity entered my mind, but I squashed it as I forced my eyes to regard the turban-wearing man next to him. His name was Quentin Quirrell, and apparently he had travelled about the Continent before taking up the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor when the previous one had transferred to another school that had offered – or so I had heard – higher pay.

The back of Professor Quirrell's head was to me, and a spark of raging magic seemed to approach me at seemingly light speed, centring on my scar. Quickly, I dulled the nerves about my forehead and braced myself as the magic hit, causing my scar to tingle only mildly. I knew that if I hadn't dulled the nerves, it would have stung considerably, perhaps even been the onset of a splitting headache.

In my few months of learning Occlumency, I had found the strange connection in my scar, which fairly reeked of Dark Magic as I examined it from 'within me'. It was the existence of this connection that had led me to begin to doubt Jeremy's status as the Boy-Who-Lived. Of course, I had structured my memories so that any magic that came through that connection was deflected and slowed down, weakening the force of any attack through that avenue. I hadn't risked putting up Occlumency shields around it else Headmaster Dumbledore would have noticed.

As it was, I rubbed surreptitiously at my scar with one sleeve, feigning tiredness. The chattering students about me didn't notice a thing, and all of the Legilimency capable students and staff present were more occupied with prying into more important minds, like Jeremy's. There weren't many students that had exhibited their capability at the mind arts (I had 'pinged' at random intervals, with the few Legilimency skills I had acquired), and even most of them were aware that if there were several people prying into the mind of one solitary person, the chances of 'bumping' into other people rose exponentially. So they resigned themselves to rifling through Jeremy's mind later, leaving the honours to Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore and Pomona Sprout.

Yes, the Head of Hufflepuff was a Legilimens – I was quite surprised at that fact, but resolved to never assume anything about anyone. It was precisely that sort of foolishness that had everyone assuming Jeremy was the Boy Who Lived and that Tom Riddle wouldn't have turned out as bad as he did.

Finally, the banquet ended, we ploughed our way through the school song, Headmaster Dumbledore warned about the Forbidden Forest being, true to its name, forbidden, and that the third-floor corridor on the right side of the main building was out of bounds, on pain of death. Okay, so maybe the Headmaster hadn't phrased it so that it seemed like he was threatening to kill anyone who disobeyed him, but it was close enough. Already gossiping and speculating about the new rule, the Prefects led their House to the dorms, with Penelope Clearwater leading the way for us. Apparently, the male fifth year Ravenclaw prefect was off somewhere with the Quidditch captain arguing about how he couldn't stay on the team as Seeker, what with his OWLs coming up.

This news was hardly exciting to me – first years weren't allowed to own brooms, let alone join their House Quidditch teams – but the students about me seemed to perk up out of the complacency brought on by being well fed. A Chinese girl – I assumed she was a second year student, as she hadn't been Sorted with us yet still looked young enough to be barely older than I – chattered happily with her friends about how she'd be trying out for the position of Seeker.

Reaching a giant shaped mirror (there was no frame but the edges of the mirror were shaped to look like an ornate frame would have), Penelope informed us that since the ties we wore were charmed to take on the house colours of the house the student wearing it was in, the mirror would allow only those wearing school ties of Ravenclaw colours through.

"It's not like Alice and the Looking Glass, is it?" One of the female students asked worriedly – I believe her name was Padma Patil. Laughter from the Muggleborn students.

Penelope was puzzled for a few seconds before someone hissed something about portals to another world into her ear. She grinned, then shook her head. "No, no, nothing like that. Our common room is through here, watch." She placed her palm out, placed it against the mirrors – which rippled about her palm, and walked forward without pausing. Taking her lead, others mimicked her, while I watched some of the other older students who merely treated it as if it were the barrier at King's Cross Station. That is, they strode straight through it, without having to place their palm against the 'surface'.

Taking a breath in, I walked towards the mirror, and braced myself for impact as I walked into it, through it, then past it. Breathing out, I took in the Ravenclaw colours of the common room, the cushiony chairs, the roaring fireplaces (it was hardly intelligent to have only one fireplace for a whole House of students).

"Boys' dorms are up the right staircase, girls' dorms are on the left. First years are on the first floor, second years on the second, and so on and so forth. Now," Penelope looked at us searchingly. "Any other questions?"

Someone – the boy that had commented sarcastically about Headmaster Dumbledore's 'speech' – raised his hand. "You said the mirror recognises our house tie. What if we're in plain clothes?"

Penelope smiled – she had been expecting that question. "That's why everyone gets issued with these." She waved at one of her friends to bring over the boxes, and they Levitated the boxes over. Fishing into one of the boxes, Penelope pulled out a silver and blue elastic wristband. "These are charmed so they recognise who you are when you've put them on once, and only you can take them off, and only you can wear them. You can wear them with when in uniform as well – the house tie is just for when we get new students that haven't got their wristband." We all scrambled to get a wristband, while I cast first a Glamour Charm (wandlessly, of course) to hide the rather colourful magic I was going to do next, then a few Identifying Spells on the wristband I had been issued with. A tracking spell as well as a recording charm were brought to my attention, and I managed to force them under my control, so that I could – if I so desired – feed them false information. Slipping the band on, it constricted momentarily, then loosened so that it sat comfortably like the other wristbands I was wearing.

The ones I was already wearing were charmed so that I was warded from elementary spells like Stupefy and Impedimenta, a Occlumency ward, a healing accelerator, an emergency Portkey and one that increased the amount of gravity my body perceived. Not all of them were active – remembering this, I reactivated the Occlumency ward, which I had taken down temporarily for the Sorting. The gravity one (which was activated at all times these days) wasn't like other more standard physical training magics in that it didn't actually increase the force acting on my person (it would be dangerous even if I was standing on very firm, very strong stone), but increased my perceived acceleration due to gravity. According to many scientists, what the mind perceived, the body believed – and my modification of a torture spell had helped along my already enhanced physical ability.

As we were changing into our pyjamas, some of my dorm mates noticed these extra wristbands and commented and I merely shrugged, saying they were fashionable in the Muggle world. A Muggleborn student (Thomas Gravey) in the dorm agreed, showing off his own wristbands.

Soon, everyone was safely tucked up in their beds, fast asleep. I tugged out the Second Edition of the Marauders' Map, something my father and his friends Remus Lupin and Sirius Black had made after their first map had been left in Hogwarts for the next generation of Marauders, and also because of the betrayal by Peter Pettigrew. They'd made it for Jeremy, but Sirius and Remus, seeing how interested I had been, had convinced father to make another copy for me. Mother hadn't been told of the existence of either map, a situation we all intended to keep unrectified.

There, on the map, I could see that Jeremy's map was on his person, and the first Marauders' Map was in the possession of Fred and George Weasley. This was one of the 'improvements' of the Second Edition – it could tell the position of all other copies of the map. Right now, the ability to hide my copy of the map from detection and putting up a false signal to broadcast that the map was 'in my trunk' was beyond me, but I intended to learn how to do exactly that before the year was out.

Sighing, I deactivated the map and locked it back in my trunk. It had taken a large chunk from my savings to purchase the sorcerers' trunk, particularly since I had had it customized with extra security features. My parents hadn't been keen on the idea of my possessing something that I could hide things in, but when I insisted that yes, I needed to bring a substantial portion of my library with me to Hogwarts, they agreed on the condition that I had to pay for it myself. After exerting this rudimentary effort of parental protection, they had somehow forgotten that sorcerers' trunks were sold in another part of London's Wizarding 'CBD', away from Diagon Alley – fortunately not Knockturn Alley, else I would have never gotten permission to buy one. They'd taken us shopping, not for our schools things (that had been a week earlier) but just for fun, and I'd split off from the main group on the pretext of continuing to browse through Flourish and Blott's catalogue. Once they'd gone, I had disguised myself and hurried off to Pecunia Alley. Along with purchasing my customized sorcerers' trunk, I had made other purchases including several tomes that weren't available in the conventional catalogues in Diagon Alley, yet still legal. Still disguised, I had disappeared into the shadows of Knockturn Alley, and re-emerged laden with books pertaining to Occlumency and Legilimency, darker forms of magic, as well as a few items of particular interest such as a Foe Glass, Mini-Tornado pellets and a second wand.

I had decided on getting a second wand when the one Ollivanders had provided had contained a core that was from the same source as Voldemort's – the phenomena that occurred in relation to brother/sister wands was not news to me, and if I ever encountered Voldemort, I would need some other wand to fight him with.

Normally, making a wand (even one that wasn't customised) took several hours, days even. But this wand maker in Knockturn Alley had a reputation of using Time Turners to help her get the time she needed to make a customised wand for a customer in what would seem to the buyer, mere minutes. I'd walked into the store, selected the parts for the core and the casing, then she'd taken them, went into the room next door, and emerged a minute later looking slightly haggard. Fifty galleons later, I was out of the store, the second wand stored in a bracer-like holster strapped about my left forearm, my official wand in a holster on my right arm.

My parents hadn't even noticed I was missing when I turned up at Florean Fortescue's, disguise removed. Several shopping bags (charmed to be lightweight and their contents shrunken) sat at the foot of their stools, while I calmly sat down on the stool next to Jeremy, eating my vanilla ice-cream sundae in silence. In the middle of some story, Jeremy had brought his hand back a little too far in one of his enthusiastic gestures and bumped against me – he'd turned about to apologise when he realised it was me.

"Harry! You remember how that time we were playing against the Pockets down the road and I caught the Snitch just as what's-his-name was about to score?" Intended apology forgotten, he continued on with his story. I nodded absentmindedly, but my parents paid me no mind, choosing instead to congratulate Jeremy on some terrible Quidditch game we'd played several years back. That they'd been present at.

Sometimes, life really was unfair.

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Author's Notes:- Some more things to clarify:

1. Jeremy's scar: the 'S' in the middle is the same size as Harry's lightning bolt, and is… pink-white. The ring about it is a perfect circle, slightly pinker than the 'S'. Harry's scar is unchanged from the canon scar.

2. I've pulled the 'James Potter is from the line of Gryffindor' card because I needed a link for Harry to know about the Sorting Hat and other stuff like that.

3. Pecunia Alley – 'Pecunia', Latin for 'money, wealth in cattle'. Might be a link for Petunia in canon? Pecuniarily – adverb of Pecuniary, 'relating to money'.

4. Sorcerers' trunk – think faux-Moody's trunk

5. The wristbands – elastic bands (half an inch thick, coloured, teenage fashion item in AUS), have one or more (smaller) wards that protect/enhance/train Harry. Ravenclaw admission band has tracking and recording spells (records magic performed, places travelled to, may record conversations).

6. The torture spell for the wristband – think the Muggle torture/execution technique of squashing people beneath blocks of rock. Similar, but Magic made it even more horrible. Modified so less painful/fatal.

7. The Ravenclaw Mirror – I figured if Gryffindor has a portrait, Slytherin has a wall, Dumbledore has a gargoyle/statue, then make Ravenclaw different. I'm having some trouble with the Hufflepuff one (if I ever need it).

8. Marauders' Map – new edition also tracks magical signature of maps, not just people. Muggles might not show up on either edition (still thinking about this one).

9. Occlumency/Legilimency – he's still not very good at Occlumency, but he's getting there, relying on misinformation to protect. Keep in mind he's a little older than 11, and has been learning for close to a year.

10. Mini-Tornado pellets – like smoke pellets, throw and the magic performs. Tornadoes appear in this case.

11. Second wand – needed for later, ingredients won't be revealed for a very long time.

12. Jeremy the Seeker? – yes, he's a Seeker. No, he does not take after his father who was a Seeker/Chaser.

13. Yes, Harry has money. He gets pocket money – his parents don't want one child running around in silk underwear while the other is in discarded house-elf rags. And because it really would be unfair if they didn't, Harry's parents actually bought all of Harry's school things – he just wanted a sorcerers' trunk rather than a normal one.