The Early Summer of 1995

The rain poured down and hit the windowpane of the moving car. The water droplets that splat onto the car and on to the ground beneath weren't aggressive; the sound was more like a small but steady beating massage. This soothing atmosphere would gently rock anyone to sleep, but this was not the case for Harry Potter. He just returned back to live with his aunt and uncle at 4 Privet Drive and he was not looking forward to the rest of his summer. The car ride was already quiet and contentious; he knew that the relationship between himself and his aunt and uncle was mutual. His Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon never saw him as a part of their family and returning to this dreaded place where Harry could not feel love was always the worst part of any year. Even though he had a very eventful year he couldn't think about Voldemort returning or witnessing the death of Cedric Diggory, he had to focus on his immediate future and what was in store for him later on that day. Surely he will be held in his room, but he wasn't sure how long it will be before his aunt and uncle decide to let him out again. The only thing that was for certain was that Harry would be ignored for the most part. That is for his aunt and uncle, but for Dudley there was no predictability until he was face-to-face with his overweight and violent cousin.

His uncle Vernon turned into the driveway of 4 Privet Drive and without turning his head to face the boy, he glared at Harry through the rear-view mirror for a moment before speaking. "Get out of this car and get into the house now!"

He turned his face outside of Uncle Vernon's eyes as he rolled his eyes and opened the car door into the pouring rain. Since he wasn't carrying the umbrella, he found himself getting soaked as he struggled to grab his bags from the car to run to the front door. All the while, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia walked together under an umbrella, snickering at his dismay. Once in the house, Uncle Vernon started his finger pointing and yelling at Harry.

"I want you in your room for the rest of the night," Uncle Vernon says as Harry struggles to pull his bags up the stairs. "I'll be generous and let you use the toilet, but only once a day. But I don't want to see you often. Got it!"

"Yes," Harry mumbled.

"And make sure you shower. I don't want to smell that putrid school in my house after we return from picking up Dudley!"

Uncle Vernon grunted in disgust and cursed under his breath as he said not another word to him and joined Aunt Petunia in the living room.

Harry continued to carry his bags into his room and knowing that if his uncle's words rang true, he must work fast to clean up and return to his room in a timely fashion. He raced downstairs to get two cups of water for himself and Hedwig and rushed to the bathroom with clean clothes in hand to take a shower. In trying to work fast and clean up in the washroom, Harry heard the front door rattle, indicating that they were back. He quickly picked up his clothes and ran to his room, which in his haste he threw his clothes onto the bed and quietly and carefully closed his door so that his uncle and aunt wouldn't know that he was making any sound. If he did do such a thing, Uncle Vernon would yell at him at the top of his lungs and lock him for a few days. Once the door was closed, he felt a sinking feeling within the stomach that he didn't check the washroom before he left. The time that he spent there was in such a haste that it was all a blur. If Uncle Vernon didn't hear the door slam, there would be another problem for him if he found any trace of him left behind in the washroom. He quickly scanned the room to see if anything was amiss and took a deep sigh of relief when he found all of his belongings all on his bed. Maybe he can survive without a hitch today, but for how long would be the question. As Harry overheard his aunt, uncle, and cousin talk in indistinguishable tones downstairs, he decided to give Hedwig some water within her cage and rest for the rest of the day. He crawled onto his bed, trying to make the stiff and cramped bed comfortable to his liking, and drifted off into his thoughts. His fourth year was the definition of hell, confusion, and grief. Everything that did happen this year happened, and it was unthinkable that it all happened within this year. Harry could not make heads or tails of it but not to have too many thoughts racing across his mind and having himself dragged into a puddle of his own tears, he started to reminisce about the bigger events that worried him.

Did Draco try to sabotage me?

Late 1994-Sometime before the First Task

The fourth-year Slytherin and Gryffindor students were in potions gathering all of the ingredients from the ingredient's shelf to collect for their potion creation. It was a normal class day, but the relationship between Harry and Ron was very intense. They hadn't talked to each other since the day Harry was called to be in the Triwizard Tournament. On one hand, Ron didn't like the fact that Harry put his name in the Goblet of Fire and saw him as only getting into the tournament as pushing him aside for glory. Harry, on the other hand, wasn't talking to Ron because for once in their friendship, he didn't believe him even though he expressed he didn't want to be in the tournament. Even though Harry still had Hermione as a friend, the friendship trio was incomplete without Ron. But at this time, Harry didn't know it could be possible to reinstate him back into the friendship. Being jealous and not concerned baffled him to no end. They tried to stay as far away from each other as best as we could. Harry went so far as to claim another potion's partner, Neville, in spite of Ron. But as Harry approached Neville, the classroom door opened to accept Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin boy whom both Harry and Ron hated.

"Malfoy!" Professor Snape called. "Why are you late?"

"My father called me to give me a gift in Professor Dumbledore's office," Draco snarked. "When my father calls, I must do as he says."

"I don't care about your father Malfoy, just join Potter and Weasley's group. Since Malfoy came in late, your group will be the only one that has three," Professor Snape instructed. "Maybe together the three of you can finally make a potion that is acceptable."

As egregious as Professor Snape's condescending discredit was, the prospects of ever being partners with Draco Malfoy had both Harry and Ron seething at the mouth. Not to create any more tension, Harry and Ron went to their regular potion's table without saying a word between themselves or Draco. They diligently worked on the potions project with diligence, but Draco had other plans.

"You know Weasley, I always wondered why you never chose me as your potions partner," Draco started but didn't gain any attention from either of them. "Behind Granger, I'm the 2nd smartest kid here. Also, I know that Professor Snape likes me; he will pass me and you just by association."

Harry rolled his eyes and continued reading the ingredients for the potion.

"Come on Weasley, Potter here won't even talk to you, so why not cut your losses and leave Potter alone," Draco continued as Harry walked over to the ingredients cabinet, ignoring what Draco had to say and Ron's response.

Ron's disappointing disregard for their friendships had Harry doubting Ron's every move because why would his best friend doubt him when he explained himself that he didn't want to be in the tournament. Even though Harry didn't believe Ron would befriend Draco, it was the possibility that would happen that made Harry feel betrayed. After grabbing the ingredients off the shelf, he quickly tossed the idea out of his mind and returned back to the potion's table.

"Weasley," Draco said, continuing his baiting, but Ron didn't even look in his direction. "See, Potter didn't even get the right ingredients!"

Draco quickly reached across and grabbed the small jar of Baneberry, an ingredient that is well known in the Wizarding World as the berry that cannot be touched and magic can only be used in handling this berry. Before Harry could even comprehend that the berry jar was not in his hand but on the table, Draco already had it in his hand and opening it up. Harry quickly grabbed Draco's arm to take it away from him but once he came in contact with his arm Draco's hand, unbalanced, dropped the small jar onto the potion table.

The broken jar bounced from the table onto Ron's lap, since he was in the middle of the two. Ron's screams could be heard throughout the castle so far that Hermione would later claim that she could hear the screams all the way in Gryffindor Tower. At first hearing of the screams, Professor Snape rushed over with one of my most petrifying stare that he has ever contrived. The scowl unnerved Harry so much that his heart stopped, but then he finally noticed that he was the only one left holding the jar of Baneberry.

"Potter!" Professor Snape growled in a way that almost sounded animalistic. "What did you do?" Before he could even think about answering or responding back in defense, Professor Snape barked again. "Potter, Malfoy, take Weasley to the hospital wing quickly!"

The two boys did as they were told and got Ron to the Hospital Wing in time before Ron's injuries became severe. After the accident, Harry was blamed for it and spent a month in detention with Professor Snape. He was harsh, and Harry was pleased that it was over more quickly than he could blink. But in the time he was in detention, he began to think about that accident. Was it really an accident or was it intentional?

As the days go by, Harry starts to believe the latter because why would Draco reach for the jar knowing that it was dangerous? Why would Draco blatantly taunt and antagonize him while working together? There were too many questions that added to why this happened the way it did, but the main question that dominated his mind was what was Draco trying to gain or prove or to send with this accident? This puzzled Harry as he laid in his bed with nothing to do as he carelessly listened to his aunt, uncle and cousin's conversation downstairs beneath his room. Even though he wasn't listening to what they were talking about downstairs, he wished that they would leave for an unknown reason just so he could have the house to himself. Instead of being stuck in this small room with little to do but think. Harry sighed and rolled over to have his face looked at the wall. He surveyed the peeling paint on the knew why it was there because sometimes when you are bored out of your mind, the smallest actions not only keep you calm but in Harry's case have him return back to reality from his thoughts. But as Harry examined the weird outline of the wall paint, he could make out an outline that resembles himself. The only thing Harry could think of at that moment was that one day that he and Ron walked into the restrooms only to find himself staring back at him. The moment was surreal. He couldn't find the words to even describe what he was seeing. Dreams were the only way to make Harry believe what he was seeing, but Ron's nudging and words broke him out of the bizarre.

"What the hell is going on here?"

This happened just a day before the last task was going to happen; the night before, to be exact. Harry and Ron were back on good terms at this time and what was standing for them still puzzles them to this day.

"I don't know," Harry replied, standing there wide-eyed and shocked as his imposter.

"Wha-what do you mean?" The other Harry stuttered as he tried to find the words to stand on, to not make himself look like the foolish one. Then he pointed a finger at the real Harry. "Can't you see this boy has stolen my face and body!"

Ron and Harry looked at each other and with a mutual nod of their heads, they quickly took out together their wands and binded the other Harry to the ground.

"Hey, what the hell is the meaning of this?" He struggled. "Don't you believe me, I'm the real Harry."

"To be completely honest, I don't know who is the fake Harry and who's the real Harry," Ron admitted as he gritted his teeth and straightened out his tie.

"How Ron?" The real Harry said, turning his head so fast that it hurt.

"I'm right here," now both of the Harry's were talking in unison which made Ron nervous and worried. Ron looked at one of the Harry's, then to the other Harry.

"This is confusing. I'm sorry," Ron worried.

"Ron, I'm just as confused as you when we walked through the door," Harry said sternly to make his case a bit more believable to Ron.

"Ron, we have been friends since the first year. You must know your best friend, right?" The other Harry proclaimed.

Then an idea came to Harry.

"Wait, why not ask us a question about you, Ron, and if one gets it wrong they're the fake," The real Harry said.

"Brilliant idea, just give me a second," Ron replied and took a deep breath as he calmed himself down and thought of the question in his head. Just like all those months ago, this would be another test in Ron and Harry's friendship. If he doesn't believe him again, it would be a total disappointment, but also Harry understood the confusion emulating from Ron because the resemblance of this other Harry scared Harry so much that the person bound on the ground could be from a different timeline. As Harry waited for Ron's question, he studied the other Harry, who was now thrashing on the ground to free himself. Then he remembered Polyjuice. If memory serves him correctly, if the imposter gets this question wrong, Harry and Ron can stay with the other Harry and see who this imposter really is.

"Harry and I have been friends for 4 years now, so he should know this," Ron started. "Instead of using myself, I'm going to use Hermione. Hermione's parents are both?"

"Dentists," the real Harry said as the other Harry binded on the ground just glared at the both of them.

As the two friends started to ask questions about the real identity of the other Harry, the other Harry began to show them physically as the potions slowly started to wear off. The other Harry's face started to bubble like boiling water and contour itself into its original form. As Ron and Harry waited for the transformation of the Polyjuice to go back to its original form, the other Harry quickly threw dust from the ground into their eyes. The friends didn't know how the imposter got his hands free, but by the time they cleared their eyes, the other Harry left without a trace.

"Did you get a chance to look at him?" Ron asked, washing his eyes out at the sink.

"No, but I think I saw his eyes turn gray, but I'm not sure," Harry said, struggling to open his eyes.

"You know, I always believed you were the real one, but this confuses me to no end," Ron confessed as Harry nodded as a thank you." Who in the hell was that, then?"

"I don't know. I'm just as confused as you."

Harry and Ron tried to report what happened to Professor Dumbledore, but with no leads or any clues as to who this other Harry incident became a mystery. Harry had a theory as to who was the face behind the mask and the main person of interest: Draco Malfoy. The reason why was linked to the incident in potion's class. Harry was being framed so this would make perfect sense to frame him for something else, albeit he did not know what that set up be but it was too much of a coincidence not to rule him out. But unfortunately he did not have any proof, so he had to keep his theory in his head until he was more certain it was him. The secret was not kept from everyone and his only two best and trusted friends Ron and Hermione knew about it.

What his friends didn't understand or knew for that matter was how Cedric Diggory's death affected him. No matter how much Harry tried to block his death of his mind, he would see glimpses of his dead body throughout the days leading to the end of term. Sometimes he would cry when no one was looking, but for the most part he tried to hold his head high and hide his tears from others. Since Harry was alone and secluded from others most of the time, he found himself crying more. This was the only good thing that he valued about this room in the Dursley's house. His thoughts and emotions were all free for him to do. As he wiped a tear that escaped from his eyes, his stomach started to growl.

"Oh my God, can we go now?" Dudley screamed. Harry didn't hear the prior conversation that led to this out first, but he heard the rest of the discussion loud and clear.

"Absolutely!" Aunt Petunia replied with the same enthusiasm as her son.

"Come on Dudley, we must go get your friends! You don't want your friends to miss out on the fun!" Uncle Vernon said, joining in.

Harry heard his aunt, uncle and cousin's footsteps race as fast as they could to the front door. As soon as the front door closed, he quickly went over to his bedroom door so only to find the doorknob bolted shut. He didn't know when they locked the door, he had a theory that maybe they came upstairs quietly while he fed Hedwig. The fluttering sound of her wings would have muted any sounds of the door locking. Harry's stomach growled again, reminding him that he had not eaten since yesterday evening. Even though he wasn't crying physically, he did feel more often than not a slight queasiness in his stomach that made him not want food this morning. Maybe the Dursleys would take pity on him and give him something when they come back, but that was very in the realm of fantasy at this point. As he returned to his bed, landing face-first on the mattress with a flop, all he could do was return back to his thoughts and memories. This time, he recalled the events of this morning and the Great Hall.

"So what did the bloke look like?" Ron curiously asked as he referred to he-who-shall-not-be-named.

"Ron!" Hermione said.

"What?" He replied.

"I don't think it's a good time to talk about this."

"Right," Ron recoiled, noticing that Harry didn't want to talk at all, especially about that. "Sorry Harry."

Ron had a full plate of breakfast while Hermione had a small plate of fruit. Looking back, Harry should have taken something for himself or asked Hermione to take something for him, but he knew that his friends wouldn't push anything on to him but a small voice inside him told him that they should have pushed a bit more just for future's sake.

"Harry?" A third and familiar voice said.

Harry looked up to see Neville Longbottom with a concerned look on his face.

"It's all right, Nev, you can join us if you want," Ron invited on Harry's behalf.

Neville nodded and sat down with them at the breakfast table. Neville bit his lip in uncertainty as he calmly tried to find the words to start his conversation. "Harry, I want to say that I believe you."

With a furrowed brow, Harry glanced over to Ron and Hermione but they both shrugged as to what he meant.

"Sorry," Neville shook his head and tried to start again after taking a deep breath. "I believed you when you said that he-who-shall-not-be-named has come back."

"Why wouldn't people believe that he has come back?" Harry replied. "Did they not see what he has done to Cedric?"

"Well, I've heard of students talking about how you're lying," Neville replied. "But that's beside the point."

Neville reached into his bag and pulled out a letter. The parchment was crafted in the utmost care and engraved with insignia that almost matched the Ministries. The letter was sent to Neville's grandmother, Augusta Longbottom, handwritten in blue ink on the middle of the folded parchment.

"During Christmas, I found this letter that was sent to my Gran in her office. This is not the original, but I have copied it to the best of my abilities while she wasn't looking, of course."

Harry took it and read it out loud.

"9th of October 1994

Dear Mrs. Augusta Longbottom, we are very disappointed that you can't join us for our meeting this Tuesday and we hope that you are getting better. All the top families need to partake in this meeting and we hoped that you would have a say on the matter that would ensure our futures as witches and wizards. After the clearing with your son, this would have been a great time to meet with you. As a kind and Stern woman such as yourself should know how important it is to speak in such events like this one. But illnesses for a woman in her elder years should be taken care of with the utmost importance.

We thank you for your time, and we will talk to you soon,

Signed The Families."

"What do they mean when they say' top families'?" Harry asked.

"Purebloods. It's a cover name in plain sight," Neville answered, taking the letter back into his bag so no one would know that he had it in his position.

"How do you know it's real?" Ron asked.

"I don't, but I have a feeling that the pureblood families would have a meeting like this before he-who-shall-not-be-named came back."

"Blimey, I hope my family doesn't get one of those letters," Ron said.

"Thank you Neville," Harry said.

"If purebloods are meeting like this and recruiting other purebloods that previously were against them, we should be concerned," Hermione stated.

"Excuse me, if you don't mind," a young girl said behind Harry in a dream-like voice. The four of them turned to see a dark blonde girl standing before them. She wore Ravenclaw robes and also looked a year younger than the four and in her hands she was holding a very used green journal. "I also would like to say I believe Harry, too."

"Thank you," Harry paused for a moment to gather his thoughts and expected who this girl was. "I'm sorry. Who are you?"

"I'm sorry, I'm Luna Lovegood, third-year," she answered As she stuck out her hand to properly greet Harry.

"Well, join us Luna," Ron welcomed. As she joined the table, just as Neville did earlier, she opened the journal to the page that she wanted Harry to read. "This is a diary entry from my mother when I was about 3. The words haunt me and the only conclusion I have is that the evil she mentions is he-who-shall-not-be-named."

"The 4th of February 1984

Dear Diary,

I can't explain how much I'm so proud of my little luna. She is becoming a very clever girl. I love her so much and I can't wait to know what house she is going to be placed in Hogwarts in the future. I hope she will be like her mama and papa.

Even though I'm ecstatic over Luna, I'm still feeling a sense of fear from this more today than any other. I was studying in my spare room and the words in my book of magic had me overthinking the sense of dread that I haven't felt since Lily and James's death. Even though I never talk to them personally, I can feel the evil that bleeds from those times. Where I had to hide or hide my family's existence. Half-bloods really had to hide their loved ones at that time. I hated feeling that sense of dread every day. I hope that this feeling it's just a fluke and nothing else. I don't want to relive that part of my life again or worse, have Luna live through that.

As I watch my sweet Luna play with her toys, I hope her future is filled with joy and happiness. She deserves that much.

Goodnight,

Pandora Lovegood."

"Blimey, that is very haunting," Ron said.

"Do you have the same sense of dread as your mother, Luna?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know if it is at the same level as my mother but I do have a fear now that if Harry is truthful, I live my life like hers." Luna replied.

"I saw him," Harry nodded in reassurance. "He was the one that killed Cedric and I cannot stop reliving that moment."

"I see," Luna nodded.

The Bell tolls throughout Hogwarts theme, defying the end of breakfast in the start of packing for the end of term. As the three of them walk to Gryffindor Tower, Hermione comments on how Neville and Luna walked behind them talking with such intrigue in each other's notes and letters it was almost like they were captivated by each other, she says. Ron dismisses her claims of captivation between the two as captivation of the two's creepy and hair-raising letters that they presented to the three of them. Harry, who remained silent and didn't see what Hermione was talking about, kept his thoughts on the letter and the diary entry. The more Harry thought about something other than Cedric's death, the better. Before he knew it he was placing his suitcase down in the common room and letting Hermione pin a flower on to his robes, then finding himself in the Great Hall again listening to Professor Dumbledore give a eulogy for Cedric Diggory. He had to snap out of it; he couldn't keep on like this. But this was the only way to keep himself from crying or reliving the scene at the graveyard, but he could not continue living his life in shame and regret.

"Mr. Cedric Diggory was a loving and caring soul that has touched the hearts of the many that knew him," Professor Dumbledore said to the room full of students. Harry closed his eyes and tried his best to hold himself together. This isn't fair! He wasn't, no, he was at the wrong place at the wrong time! But why him? This shouldn't have happened! Stop!

Harry opened his eyes once more and could no longer see Professor Dumbledore, but could only hear his words of eulogy which overwhelmed him with the sense of guilt. The Great Hall was no longer the Great Hall anymore. The sight that Harry was visualizing was the gloomy and dark graveyard. This can't be happening! Not again!

"Kill the spare!" Words echoed throughout the graveyard in their hissy tone. Harry tried to shake the sound from his head but couldn't. He envisions Cedric's body flying through the air like a spinning ballerina, but nothing about it was graceful when his lifeless body hit the ground. He could envision his parents again coming to his aid just like it was back at the graveyard with the fight between him and Voldemort. Harry felt his tears slide down his face. He felt the world crumbling around him. There's nothing else to do but let his emotions take over. As he crumbled up onto the ground, letting several tears fall, his mother came to him, taking his hand in hers.

"It's okay. I'm here with you, Harry," she whispered into his ear. He closed his eyes, hoping his mind would transport himself back to Hogwarts. He could feel his mother laying her head on his shoulder. It was almost like she was cradling him. Her words rang throughout his mind until he started to smell something peculiar, like strawberries. The smell of strawberries brought a sense of je ne sais quoi(Translation: I don't know what) to his mind. The smell reminded him of something, but he couldn't figure out what it was. The only thing that was certain was the feeling of being secure and at home. An "at home" that he wished he were all the time.

"To Cedric Diggory, lost but not forgotten," Professor Dumbledore's final word of his eulogy rang out as Harry opened his eyes once more. He finally found his way back to reality. The first thing that Harry sees is his hand intertwined with Hermione's. Harry faintly smiled at the thought of her taking the initiative to comfort him. She was the best at comforting him.

All the glowing orange hue in living from the sun setting, Harry drifted back to sleep in a puddle of his own tears on his pillow.

Harry jolted out of his slumber only to find himself in darkness. He must have slept for hours, but he could never know for sure. Just like owners of a casino, the Dursleys never wanted him to know what time it was. It was like an endless loop of not knowing whether things were up or down with them. The Dursley's household was awfully quiet; an uncomfortable silence. His stomach growling loudly as he watched the bottom of his door to see if there were shadows crossing his bedroom, indicating that they returned and were still up. It was just darkness that filled the gap between the bottom of the door and the floor. Maybe it was so late at night that the other three people in the house were fast asleep. If that were the case, he could slowly but carefully attempt to try to unlock his door from the inside. He stealthily got up from his bed so it wouldn't creek and tiptoed over to the door. He knelt down and pressed his ear to the door. After a minute or two of silence, he covertly checked the doorknob and was surprised it was opening for him. He cracked the door open for a second when a flying fist hit his gut from the darkness.

"I caught Harry trying to escape his room again!" Dudley shouted quickly, notifying his parents out of their room to chastise Harry for ever doing such a thing. After they've pushed him into his room once again, they locked the door and coddled his cousin as he explained to them a lie about how he was the one who instigated the fight between them. It was a setup that Harry shouldn't have taken; he should have known that once the door allowed him out, it was too good to be true. After he curled up on his bed waiting for the pain to subside, he retreated back to his thoughts. This time he thought about the kiss Hermione gave him on the cheek before leaving King's Cross Station. She had never done this before, but it was comforting, like he was back with his mother at the memorial service for Cedric Diggory. After she did it, she waved goodbye and joined her parents. But the astonishing thing he could remember was the smell of strawberries again. Maybe he remembered his mother; the small pieces that remain in his memory of her. Either way, the smell stayed with him for quite some time. Then that's when it occurred to him that as she kissed him on the cheek, one of his pockets felt a bit heavier than usual. He quickly grabbed his robes from his bedside table and reached into his pocket to find a chocolate muffin. He quickly scarfed it down and thanked Hermione for this special kindness. As he sat there eating, he envisions his mother again, but this time her eyes slowly change from light green to chocolate brown.

Hope you enjoyed stay safe out there and i will see you soon!