Chapter 4

This is here:

"This is impossible," Harry said flatly.

"No," Ron muttered, "Sorry, mate."

"You really want to tell me that I'm the Boy-Who-Lived? That there's some odd prophecy about me having to kill You-Know-Who?"

"Yes."

"Look at your forehead, Harry!" Hermione said, "It's all the proof you need. And that's why you can't go out, everybody would recognise you!"

"Well, I'm going to get that bowl, see what we can do. See you later," Ron said and Apparated with a loud crack.

Harry buried his face in his hands.

"I know this must be really hard for you, but we'll find a way to send you back."

"Where's Severus? He knows all about magical objects in my world, what's he do here?"

"Well… er."

An awkward silence stretched while Harry looked expectantly at Hermione.

"Thing is, Harry, Sev- Professor Snape is a Death Eater who murdered Albus Dumbledore and who's been in hiding for the last three years."

This isn't:

Despite his inner turmoil Harry slept soundly through the night and woke up to sunlight streaming through the windows; he blinked sleepily and watched tiny dust particles dance in the morning brightness.

One shock was held in store for him, however, when he glanced in the bathroom mirror and nearly choked on his tooth brush: his scar, the one that made him famous throughout the wizarding world, was gone. Well, it was only to be expected, he told himself while pulling back his fringe and staring at his unblemished forehead. His scar wasn't gone; this Harry whose body he was currently occupying had parents who were still alive. The scar had never been there because his mother hadn't died for him.

After having dressed in clothes that he assumed were his – or the other Harry's anyway – he went downstairs to the kitchen to find Snape idly leafing through an enormous book.

"Good morning," Harry said awkwardly.

"Is it?"

Snape snorted as Harry gaped at him. "Never mind answering that. There's tea and coffee, if you want some; or, if you're really desperate, Pepper Up potion."

"You've stayed up all night, haven't you?"

"I think I took a nap between three and four o'clock."

"Great. Found out anything?"

"Nothing that would help you to return before breakfast, I'm afraid."

Snape yawned and Harry suddenly realised that this – this man, this wizard before him was a human being, one completely different from the Severus Snape he knew. This Snape was no beauty by any stretch of the imagination; his face was not the least appealing. He had bags under his eyes, and those eyes were still pitch-black, but not empty. His hair was dishelved; but it was short and clean, not lank and greasy. And his clothing – well.

"Why are you wearing Muggle clothes?" Harry asked abruptly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Why aren't you wearing robes? Like black or something? Don't you hate everything to do with… mudbloods?"

Snape flinched and hissed through clenched teeth, "I don't know about your world, but this term is considered highly offensive and I beg you not to repeat it in my presence!"

He continued in a more normal tone, "And why would I despise everything to do with Muggles? My father was one – I went to a Muggle university to get a degree. I've lived in their world for several years. Didn't you know that I'm a half-blood?"

"You called yourself the half-blood Prince," Harry said.

Snape smiled. "At school, yes. This is now more than twenty years ago and I do hope that I've changed since then. It would be a pity if I were still judging people according to the pureness of their blood lines or the House they were in at school."

"But you were in Slytherin?"

"Yes, I was."

"And you never wanted to become a Death Eater?"

"For Merlin's sake, what is this, Twenty Questions? No, I've never had anything to do with Voldemort's lackeys."

"You normally call him the Dark Lord."

"I do not normally call him anything, Harry," Snape said, "Because I am not the man you still believe me to be. I don't know what made my… other self join the Death Eaters. I don't know why he became the man you want to kill, but I am certainly not him. You would do well to remember that."

"Sorry," Harry muttered, chastised, "It's just hard, you know? I don't understand how, what made you this way. I'm just… well."

He busied himself with pouring himself a cup of coffee, carefully not looking at Snape.

"If I can't go back, I thought I'd go to Diagon Alley today, to the library to have a look at some of the old Daily Prophets, just so I know what's going on. Is it safe to go out alone?"

"Yes, it should be," Snape replied, "I'm sure you prefer to go without me in any case. I will pick you up there so we can floo to the meeting together. And Harry… I don't know about you, but I would prefer to not involve the Order in this business. If that's what you want to do, however, I would not stand in your way."

"All right, then."

The Diagon Alley that Harry remembered from his own world was a rather gloomy place after three years of a festering civil war. Nobody dared going out alone, and huddling groups of people furtively darted from shop to shop. Ollivander's had only been the beginning; Fortescue's was gone as well, the apothecary had closed up after a burglary and only Fred's and George's joke shop seemed to make profit these days; people needed – desperately craved – something to cheer them up.

The street Harry was standing in now was like a colourful wizarding picture of better times. This was the Diagon Alley he knew from his first visit with Hagrid. If people looked a bit hurried, anxious, if the children looked a bit subdued; if many shops sold protective amulets and charms Harry nearly took no note of it because he was used to so much worse.

The only public wizarding library in Great Britain ("Lending Books since 1602!") was located across the street from Flourish and Blotts. Harry had only heard about it from Hermione who'd sniffed that their collection of magical grimoires was pitiful and that the Hogwarts library was so much better. Still, all the copies of the Daily Prophet since its first publication in 1880 were kept here, in a large hall that Harry was allowed to enter only after the strict-looking witch at the front desk had scanned his wand and informed him that everything in the library was charmed against theft, fire and spells for it to sqeak obscenities at the next reader.

Harry smiled at her in what he hoped was an innocent way, marvelled at the fact that she did not stare at his forehead while talking to him and sat down with several thick folders that contained newspapers of the last thirty years.

Four hours later, Harry slouched into his chair and wished that he smoked – at least a cigarette would calm his nerves. There was a lot of rubbish printed in the Daily Prophet, there was no doubt about that, but he'd found – mostly – what he'd been looking for. It seemed that not much had gone differently in this world than in his own (as far as Harry knew- he'd failed the OWL in History of Magic after all) until the first defeat of Voldemort, that was. He quickly scanned the relevant article, printed in a special evening edition:

You-Know-Who defeated! Wizarding world free at last!

Upton Magna - Last night will be a night to remember for years to come as You-Know-Who was vanquished by a one year old boy by the name of Neville Longbottom. Speaking from the Longbottom residence in Shropshire, Auror Ben Odgen commented: "It seems that You-Know-Who was killed by the boy after his mother was murdered in front of his eyes. We don't know anymore yet, I'm afraid- but a thorough investigation of the matter is underway."

You-Know-Who entered the small family cottage last night shortly before midnight, apparently with the intention of killing the boy's parents, Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom. The Dark Mark appeared above the house minutes before parts of the house collapsed.

Neville is currently being cared for by his grandmother while his father, Frank Longbottom (29) is being treated in St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. He was found gravely injured in the debris of the house.

His son, however, will be celebrated as the saviour of the wizarding world, the one to free us all.

And, a day later:

You-Know-Who vanquished by own Killing Curse!

Upton Magna – It has come to light that You-Know-Who, who was defeated two days ago by one-year-old Neville Longbottom, used a Killing Curse (one of the three Unforgivable Curses) on the boy which rebounded on himself. How Neville managed this heretofore unheard of feat is as yet unclear, but he is the only one to ever survive this curse: He truly is the boy who lived.

So Voldemort had chosed Neville – and it was Neville who had the weight of the prophecy on his shoulders now. Harry smiled bitterly and made a note on a piece of parchment that had become the list for Severus about the differences between their realities. He'd tried to be objective and blasé about the whole thing though some of the afternoon's revelations had shocked him, like this little note in the newspaper five years ago:

James Potter Missing

Godric's Hollow – Celebrated Auror James Potter, 36, went missing three days ago during a routine mission in Taunton, Somerset. Search has proven fruitless so far as his wife, Lily Potter (35), is recovering in St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries from severe spell damage and trauma obtained earlier this week. Head of Auror Department Rufus Scrimgeour was unavailable for comment.

Harry hadn't been able to find any more information about his father, but the lack of further news made him suspect that James had been killed in the fight against Voldemort (whose return the Prophet had announced in bold letters only some months ago) or doing work for the Order and that his death had been hushed up by Cornelious Fudge who still clung to his post of Minister of Magic here and was as great an imbecile as ever.

There were even some news about him, in the Sports section, announcing that Puddlemere United had won a match against the Wimbourne Wasps 210-20, thanks to keeper Oliver Wood and seeker Harry James Potter who seemed to work well together despite their spectacular and rather public break-up two weeks prior.

Quickly packing up the folders, Harry looked at the finished list:

Voldemort was defeated by Neville Longbottom who then became the boy who lived

Neville's father survived the attack (??)

James Potter starts training as an Auror

so they survived because of the Fidelius Charm?


Regulus Black acquitted of all charges of being a Death Eater

he was killed in my world

does that mean that Regulus is/was the spy?

Cedric Diggory survives the Tri-Wizard tournament

he wins the tournament, Neville came second

there was a plot in my world to revive Voldemort around that time

--But Voldemort did come back around that time, didn't he?

James Potter goes missing - he's already dead at that time in my world

I'm really, really gay (Harry had crossed that one out after he figured that he needn't be more immature about the whole thing than was strictly necessary.)

Hermione Granger gets killed together with Ronald Weasley after their leaving feast ceremony; Draco Malfoy suspected

Albus Dumbledore is still alive here

After that it's pretty much the same, even though Voldemort seems to move more slowly here. I don't know why.

It was rather cold and rainy outside when Harry left the library to wait for Snape. There had been no mention of him at all in all the newspapers Harry had read today and it seemed that he'd told the truth: He wasn't a Death Eater, wasn't even suspected of supporting Voldemort and whatever he did for a living didn't earn him any public attention whatsoever.

But if Harry had thought that this world, this reality was somehow better than his own then that assumption was proven wrong by the deaths of Ron and Hermione at the hands of that bastard Malfoy. It didn't matter that he'd perhaps never been friends with them here; they were dead and Harry grimly planned how to eviscerate Draco Malfoy while waiting for Snape to show up.