"If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend:
If you pardon we will mend.
Else the Puck a liar call.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends."
- William Shakespeare
Lies
oO0Oo
Even though he had been using the Floo Network for as long as he could remember, James Potter couldn't land on his feet if his life depended on it. His wife, ever the graceful one, not only managed to land on her feet, but not a speck of dust could be seen marring her forest green robe.
James picked himself up from the ground. His glasses were askew, his hair was messier than ever, and his gray robe was now black with soot. With an amused glance from his wife, he mumbled a well practiced cleaning spell. A polite cough sounded from the other side of the room.
"I'm so glad that you both could join me on such short notice. Please, have a seat," said Dumbledore, gesturing to the comfy armchairs situated in front of his desk.
Lily and James took a seat.
"Would either of you care for some tea? Or perhaps a lemon drop?" inquired the aged man.
The couple politely declined.
Dumbledore got straight to business. "I'm sure you both are wondering what reason I could have for requesting your presence. Let me say first of all, there has been no deaths, and Voldemort has not made any moves as of late. The reason I have called you here is entirely, to my knowledge, unrelated to the war."
"So why are we here Albus? Surely this isn't just a social visit?" inquired James.
Albus shook his head. "I only wish it was. I am unsure on how to breach the subject."
Dumbledore regarded Lily over his half moon spectacles. "Lily, do you remember the conversation we had one night many years ago when you questioned me about my then current research I was conducting with Nicholas Flamel?"
Lily seemed surprised. "That was an awfully long time ago Albus. I'm afraid my memory might not be as good as yours."
With an encouraging look from the Headmaster, Lily continued.
"It wasn't on the uses of dragon's blood. That was before my time. Was it . . . Oh! I remember now! It was something to do with different planes of existence. I was doing a research project in Charms on the abilities of phoenixes to manipulate magic and travel to different existences!"
Dumbledore nodded with a small smile. "Exactly."
"So, what? Is there something we should know about Fawkes?" asked James.
Dumbledore chuckled. "No, no. It's nothing to do with Fawkes."
"Oh Albus! Just cut to the chase! What in the world do you want to tell us?" exclaimed Lily.
"Yes exactly Lily! What in the world! Or more precisely, who from which world!"
James and Lily gave each other a look. What was the Headmaster talking about?
"When you came up to my office asking about a phoenix's abilities, I told you of my research into the area of inter-dimensional travel. I explained that a phoenix can find a "thread" if you will and travel to an alternate plane of existence, or in laymen's terms, a different world, an alternate reality if you will. There had been accounts of people who had somehow, and without explanation, claimed to have traveled here from an alternate reality. These sort of people, in normal circumstances, would be seen as mentally unbalanced.
However, in every known case of such a person claiming to be from an alternate dimension, experiments have confirmed that their bodies are molecularly incompatible to this world. Everything in existence has a common base molecular pattern that serves as a building block for matter. The dimension travelers' molecules are noticeably different. Hence, credence has been given, however it is still a hotly debated issue among scholars. The simplest explanation is that this is just another facet of magic that must be accepted at face value."
James nodded. "Okay, I get it. You're saying that there are different worlds out there, and you're saying that people can travel between worlds. But what does this have to do with Lily and me?"
"Well," Dumbledore began, "I'm afraid that we have a dimension traveler within our midst."
"What?! You can't be serious!" exclaimed Lily.
"I am very serious Lily. Earlier this evening a young man was found injured and banging on the doors to the castle. He is a student of Hogwarts from another dimension."
"Are you sure Dumbledore? Are you sure this isn't some trick of Voldemort's?" asked James.
"I am positive. The boy was questioned under my own private store of Veritiserum."
"I'm still not sure why you chose to inform us. Wouldn't it have been best for us to learn this information at the next Order meeting?" asked Lily.
"The boy in question is a relation of yours. I felt that you both had the right to know in advance," stated Dumbledore, steepling his fingers and waiting for the reactions.
Lily turned white. She could only guess of one boy who could be a Hogwarts student and a relation of theirs. But their son was dead. Harry was dead. It just couldn't be . . .
James, on the other hand, wasn't as perceptive as his wife.
"What do you mean he's related to us? I don't have any relatives, living or dead, that could be in Hogwar - " he stopped.
"Albus -" began Lily.
Dumbledore raised his hand. "I know what you both are thinking, and let me say that this boy is not Harry."
James felt saddened and angry. He didn't know how he could deal with having his greatest dream come true, but at the same time the only thing he wanted more in the whole world was to have his baby back. Why, if there was a dimension traveler, couldn't it have been their son?
Lily, while just as disappointed and sad, had an epiphany.
She snorted. James gave her a look, and Dumbledore looked just as surprised at her sudden change of mood.
"Please, Albus, don't tell me it's my nephew! It can't be Dudley Dursley!"
James actually gave a bark of laughter. The somber mood was lifted. Lily and James both regarded Dumbledore with something akin to dreaded expectation. Surely it was Dudley. The couple didn't actually have any other young Hogwarts-aged relatives.
Dumbledore shook his head, much to the growing confusion of Lily and James.
"Our dimension traveler is not your nephew Lily. In fact, not only is he from an alternate dimension, but he is also from twenty-six years in the future."
James blinked. "Did Dudley have a magical child?"
Dumbledore once again shook his head. "No, you misunderstand me. The boy is a Potter."
James frowned. Lily gasped.
"Is, I mean, do we have another child in the future?" asked Lily.
She looked at James. They had both decided not to bring another child into the world until the danger posed by Voldemort and his followers was eradicated.
"No, the boy is not your child." answered Dumbledore.
"Oh enough of your games Dumbledore! Just tell us who the kid is!" yelled James. He was getting quite fed up the circles the headmaster was running them through.
"Very well. He is the son of Harry Potter. He is your grandson."
oO0Oo
It was the shattering of a vile and the loud exclamation of "shit!" that woke him up. Albus, for one, had never heard Madam Pomfrey curse before, unless she was giving Filch a magical rash. He didn't know for sure, but something had happened during his second year to cause the Hogwarts' caretaker and the Hogwarts' healer to come at odds. The rumors went that Madam Pomfrey had "accidentally" kicked Mrs. Norris down a flight of stairs. Albus wasn't sure on the details, but he thought Mrs. Norris might have used Madam Pomfrey's slippers as a litter box once.
He stretched lazily in bed, enjoying the absence of pain and soreness, and snuggled back into the warmth of the itchy hospital standard sheets.
The realization that he was in a different world hit him hard and fast when he heard the voice of Severus Snape question Madam Pomfrey on her store of pepper-up potions.
Albus was glad that the curtains were drawn around his bed. He sat up so fast he almost tumbled off. When he was good and sure that Snape was gone, he gingerly opened the curtains a smidgeon and peaked out. Yep, no where in sight. Neither was Madam Pomfrey. Merlin. What had his parents been thinking when they named him after that creep? At least Severus wasn't his first name.
He felt pressure in his lower abdomen. Nature was calling. The shock of cold stone on his bare feet erased any drowsiness left, and he thankfully found the door to the loo.
Knowing better than trying to escape this early in the game, Albus crawled back into bed. He didn't want to be caught by Snape anyway. And besides, knowing Madam Pomfrey, she'd be walking in any min -
"Good morning Mr. Potter. How are you feeling today? Any aches, pains, soreness?" asked the matron, right on time.
Albus shook his head.
"No Madam Pomfrey. I feel fit as a fiddle! So when am I up for parole? I'm not much for hospital wings."
Madam Pomfrey clucked disapprovingly as she changed the sheets of the bed on Albus' left.
"Neither was your grandfather," she replied.
Albus smiled softly. "Neither was my father."
Madam Pomfrey shook her head with a smile. "I take it he was as much a trouble maker as your grandfather?"
Albus shrugged. "I think trouble usually found Dad than the other way around. But you didn't answer my earlier question. What's my sentence?"
"I'm observing you until later this afternoon. You stay in bed, choke down a few potions, and I might let you out on good behavior," suggested Madam Pomfrey.
Albus made a great show of considering her proposal. "I think I can live with that."
"Good, because you don't have any say in the matter."
"Hey!" replied Albus indignantly.
"Is for horses young man! 'Hi' is for people!" exclaimed a voice from the doorway.
Both Albus and the matron turned to see the headmaster in all his morning glory. Albus thought he might have to shield his eyes if Dumbledore came any closer with his neon yellow robes.
"What's the occasion Albus? You don't usually pull out those ghastly robes on any old day," remarked Madam Pomfrey.
"Oh, nothing special my dear. Just felt like they needed a good airing," returned the headmaster. He pulled up his robes to reveal matching socks peaking out the top of his boots.
"I'm even airing the matching socks," said Dumbledore conversationally.
Albus shook his head. Tales of his namesake's eccentricity was obviously not as exaggerated as he had assumed.
"Now Poppy, if you don't mind, I'd like to have a word with young Mr. Potter here."
Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "Of course not Albus. If you need me, I'll be in my office."
Dumbledore conjured a comfy yellow chair next to Albus' bed. Albus' eyes were starting to ache with all the cheeriness.
"How are you feeling this morning Mr. Potter?" inquired the headmaster.
"I'm just fine, sir. And yourself?" asked Albus, trying to be polite. His mother would have slapped him upside his head otherwise. He'd seen her do it enough with James.
"Oh fine, fine."
Albus decided to just jump right in. After all, he was never one for small talk.
"So, did you get a hold of my grandparents?" asked Albus.
"Yes, I was able to contact Lily and James last night. They flooed over to my office, where I then preceded to inform them that they were the proud new grandparents of a dimension traveling teenager."
"Err, did you put it so bluntly, sir?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "I doubt they would have believed me if I had. No, I took my time. I'm afraid to say they were quite shocked by the news. Your grandfather especially. I'm not sure if he believed me at first. Your grandmother did, but James is a little hard-headed. In time, he will come to accept it."
Albus swallowed hard. Uh oh. It seemed as if his grandfather wasn't too happy. Dumbledore more than spelled it out for him.
"So, am I still going to stay with them?" he asked hesitantly.
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes. Your grandmother will be here to pick you up this afternoon following your discharge from the hospital wing. Your grandfather will be at work at the Ministry."
Albus nodded absently. "Okay. That sounds fine."
"For now young Albus, I want to discuss your situation and ask you some questions," continued Dumbledore.
"Sure. Fire away," replied Albus.
The headmaster raised an eyebrow. Albus realized what he had just said.
"Oh, err, it's a muggle term, sir. It means to just start with the questions," explained Albus.
"Oh, my yes. What funny expressions muggles have. It just reminds me of the vastly different cultures we humans live in, whether it be Magical, Muggle, or French," observed Dumbledore.
Albus just nodded in agreement. He wasn't exactly sure what he could say.
"I think it would be wise to keep your true identity a secret for now. I think the only ones who should be in the know are your grandparents, Madam Pomfrey, Professor McGonnagal, and myself. We will have to devise a cover up for your obvious resemblance to your grandfather, and as to why you are staying with them," said Dumbledore.
Albus nodded. "Yes sir, that seems to be wise. I wouldn't want Voldemort out to get me or anything because I'm a dimension traveler."
Dumbledore beamed. "Exactly my boy! Your safety is our number one prerogative. Now, I've thought of something a bit tricky, try your best to follow. You are actually going to be related to me. You're my grand nephew Albus Reginald Dowling, the son of my brother's daughter, Aurelia, who had such a love for her dear old uncle that she named you after me and gave you your father's name as your middle name. Alas, my great niece and nephew in law died in a boating accident off one of the many isles of Greece. With me so far?" asked Dumbledore.
"Err, yes," replied Albus. He was mentally going over everything to make sure he remembered.
"As to the remarkable resemblance to the Potter line, Reginald Dowling is actually the son of the bastard daughter of your great grandfather John Potter, which in all actuality is your great great grandfather. John was known to be a womanizer. It's not that far of a stretch. You've been sent to live with me, as my brother has been deemed unfit to care for children after that unfortunate accident with the goat, but I can't possibly see to your care during a war. So therefore, your relatives, the Potters, have agreed to take you in."
Albus blinked. "Impressive, sir."
"Why thank you my boy!"
"Now, my niece and nephew in law actually did die in a boating accident in Greece, but they had no children. I'll file the necessary paperwork later this afternoon. If anyone bothered to look, which I see no reason why they should, then your story will check out. Oh, and you were home schooled. You were born in England and lived there for awhile. That will explain the accent, but you moved to South Africa when you were eleven because your parents weren't comfortable with the growing threat of Voldemort. Any questions?"
Albus shook his head.
"Now, can you remember everything?" asked Dumbledore.
Albus nodded, but Dumbledore insisted on quizzing him just to make sure. After Dumbledore was assured that they both knew the same story, he brought the conversation to other matters.
"You said yesterday that your father wasn't raised by his parents, that James and Lily died when he was a baby. Did he go and live with Sirius then? I understand he was Harry's godfather here," said Dumbledore.
"No, Dad didn't go and live with his godfather. He went to live with his mum's sister Petunia and her husband Vernon Dursley. Dad's godfather wasn't able to take him," replied Albus.
"Ah, must have been where you picked up the muggle term then, if your father was raised in the muggle world," said Dumbledore.
"Yeah, it drives Mum bonkers when he says them. She accuses him of making them up on the spot sometimes, just to get her riled up," said Albus with a wistful smile.
Dumbledore chuckled, but continued his questioning.
"So how did your grandparents die?" asked Dumbledore.
"Voldemort came to their house in Godric's Hollow and murdered them," said Albus.
"Oh dear. How dreadful. How did little Harry survive?"
Albus really didn't want to get into the real story. It was too fantastic. He doubted the headmaster would believe that his dad had survived the killing curse. And if he did . . .
If Albus was in an alternate universe, and no one knew what had happened to his dad, then he didn't want anyone to know. If they knew that he was the son of the famous Harry Potter, then what would they do? Would the light side expect him to be the next savior of the wizarding world? Would they expect him to defeat the Voldemort here as his father did in Albus' world? No, it would be best not to mention what really happened.
Albus looked away from the headmaster, sniffing and playing with a loose thread on his pillow case. It was best to act upset. "I'm not really sure Headmaster. There was an explosion of some kind, and they found my father in the wreckage."
Albus looked back up at the headmaster after he had finished his lie.
"You sent him to live with the Dursley's. They were the only family he had left."
Dumbledore nodded, patting Albus' shoulder reassuringly. Maybe those drama classes he'd been forced to attend in muggle primary school was finally paying off.
The headmaster felt it was prudent to change topics.
"So tell me about your mother. I had the pleasure of knowing Ms. Weasley, but only briefly. Is she anything like your grandmother Weasley?" asked Dumbledore.
Albus chuckled. "Yeah, I guess you could say she's got Grandmum's temper, but she sure can't cook like Grandmum. Dad does the cooking at home. Mum couldn't boil water without setting the kitchen on fire," said Albus.
Dumbledore smiled. "I would have thought she'd inherited her mother's cooking abilities."
"Boy do I wish. I think Lily's going to take after Mum. She tried making us dinner one night as a surprise. The only surprise we got was when we found newts in the soup. I think she got some potion ingredients mixed in with the potatoes or something," said Albus.
"I've found that to happen from time to time. However, here at Hogwarts, it is usually the students who purposely put them in the food," remarked Dumbledore.
Albus smiled. James and he had done something like that sometime ago. It was nice having family friends that worked at Hogwarts, even if they were hyper active house-elves.
"Now Mr. Potter, about your arrival here. I noticed that you were in your Quidditch robes. Were you perhaps playing in a Quidditch game?" asked Dumbledore.
Albus shook his head. "No, it was just a practice. James is our captain, and he said since the big game against Slytherin was coming up, we should practice rain or shine. He wasn't kidding. It seems like the storm from last night was happening at the same time as it was in my world."
Dumbledore leaned back into his chair, stroking his beard and humming in thought.
"Let me look at something. I'll visit you at the Potter's when I've had time to do some research, but I want you to know Mr. Potter, there's a war going on right now with Voldemort. I won't have a great deal of time to dedicate to my research. You may be with us for a while," said Dumbledore gravely.
Albus nodded dumbly. He hadn't realized that he could be stuck here. A queasy feeling settled itself in the pit of his stomach. He all the sudden wasn't feeling as well as he once was.
"I'm afraid I must cut our meeting short Mr. Potter. Your grandmother will be here shortly. I'll make sure to send Madam Pomfrey with a tray. You look like you might be hungry," observed Dumbledore, dispelling the conjured yellow chair.
No, Albus thought, he was far from hungry. He felt as if he was going to be sick.
He said his goodbyes to the Headmaster, who promptly took his leave, and refused everything that Madam Pomfrey had offered him except the potions. He could stomach little else.
He pulled the curtains around his bed closed, hoping to block out what little sunlight he could. He didn't want to think that he wouldn't be seeing his parents again soon. He didn't want to think that here he was essentially an orphan. He didn't want to think about meeting his grandparents, or that his grandfather couldn't accept his existence. All Albus wanted to do was go to sleep and wake up at home.
He was almost asleep too, but a knock at the Infirmary door drew him back to the realm of consciousness.
He didn't think the knock had been loud enough, because he didn't hear Madam Pomfrey coming to answer it. There was another knock, followed by another bout of unanswered silence. Finally, he heard the door open.
"Poppy? Are you here?" questioned the voice of a woman.
Albus felt another sick feeling in his stomach. This time from nerves. He'd bet his broomstick he knew who that voice belonged to, even if he had never heard her voice before in his life.
He peaked through the curtains. The woman had her back turned towards him, walking towards Madam Pomfrey's office door, but the auburn hair was a clue as any.
Lily Potter was here. He was about to meet his grandmother.
oO0Oo