Chapter Five
Harry walked into the hallway of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. It felt odd that this was home considering that Sirius Black was not his godfather and he was in no way related to the Blacks in this new, twisted reality. As he walked toward the kitchen Harry looked around. He noticed there were house-elf heads propped on the walls and Mrs. Black's portrait shut behind the curtain so she didn't make noise. The umbrella stand that Nymphadora Tonks–Lupin always used to trip over and knock down was also in the hallway in front of the kitchen.
It all looks the same. I wonder why my family is living here. Sirius is dead and this house should have been willed to Neville. And it's not even like Malfoy is the son of Narcissa Black, Harry thought to himself.
"Mom, are you here?" Harry called as he walked into the kitchen.
"I'm in here, dear," Lily called from the parlor.
Harry walked into the room where he once spent hours cleaning out old Black family heirlooms with the Weasleys and where he had a Horcrux in his hands and threw it out.
"Hello, Harry dear," Lily said. She was reading the Daily Prophet in an armchair by a fireplace Harry did not know existed.
"Hi, Mom." Harry walked over to the chair and hugged his mother. He clung onto her for a few seconds before she put down the paper and patted him on his head.
"Are you alright, honey?" Lily asked.
"Yeah. I'm just glad to see you. Er – have you seen Sn – Dad?" Harry asked.
"He's at the Ministry at the moment but he should be home soon. Why?"
"I just wanted to ask him something," Harry said sitting down on the couch across from his mother.
"Is it anything I can help you with?" Lily asked picking up the newspaper again and flipping open to the article she had been reading.
"I don't think so, Mom. I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry. There are some things a boy needs his father for and his mother can't help him with," Lily said.
"Huh?"
"I'm just saying that I'm not insulted. Some things boys just feel uncomfortable talking to their mothers about. And girls feel uncomfortable talking to their dads about things. When you have children you'll figure that out."
"If I ever get the chance," Harry mumbled to himself.
"What did you say?"
"Nothing."
"Harry, sweetie," a perky female voice called from the entryway.
Harry groaned but Pansy Parkinson came bounding into the room before he could disapparate to another part of the house. She pounced on Harry's lap and shoved her lips against his.
"Guess who I found at the Ministry looking for you," Snape said, walking into the room and before gently kissing Lily on the lips.
Harry struggled fruitlessly against Pansy for a few minutes before he could break free from her grasp.
"Dad, can I talk to you?" Harry asked, glad for the excuse to escape from Pansy.
"Sure."
Harry led Snape out of the living room and into the kitchen.
"What's wrong, son?" Snape asked when Harry closed the door behind him.
"I need to get into your office at Hogwarts," Harry said bluntly and without pretense.
"You what?"
"I need to get into your office at Hogwarts," Harry repeated.
"Why?"
"I need to ask Dumbledore something."
"What do you need to ask him?" Snape asked suspiciously.
Harry savored the unfriendly tone with which Snape spoke the last sentence and embraced the sneer that appeared on his face; it was something familiar in an unfamiliar life.
With many years experience of thinking fast to lie to Snape, Harry found that an answer came swiftly and easily to his lips.
"I need to ask him if I can teach a course at the school."
"Why not ask me? I am the headmaster." Snape asked, more suspicious still.
"Because you're my father and people will say that I got the job because I am related to you," Harry responded quickly, his years of lying to Snape on the spot coming back to him more quickly and in full force.
"Okay. I will let you into my office tomorrow at ten in the morning," Snape said.
"You will?" Harry asked, surprised that he had convinced Snape so thoroughly in a way that he never would have been able to in his own world.
"Yes. I will." Snape smiled, patted Harry on the back, and walked back into the living room to find Lily.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Ron? Ginny? Are you here?" Harry asked seconds after apparating directly into Ron's attic bedroom in which he had spent so many hours in his real world.
"Harry," Hermione said, walking into the room at the sound of his voice.
"Snape said he would let me into his office tomorrow morning."
"He did?" Hermione asked, both happy and surprised.
"Yes. But I don't think that he will let anyone but me in," Harry said, sitting down on the bed that he usually occupied in his real world.
"He won't have to," Ginny said walking into the room. She held up a silvery cloak that Harry knew all to well.
Harry smiled.
"That won't fit all of you. We barely fit three under it when we were eleven. How is it going to hold five twenty-year olds?" Harry asked.
"Not all of us are going," Ginny said sitting down on Ron's bed. "Only me, Hermione, and Neville."
"What about Ron and Luna?"
"They're going to go to the library and see if they can figure anything out," Ginny said.
"Ron is going to the library and Hermione isn't?" Harry asked, confused at why the world was temporarily out of control.
"Yes. Always," Ginny said.
Harry burst into laughter. Hermione and Ginny stared at each other.
"Why are you laughing?" Hermione asked.
When he finally managed to control his laughter, Harry said,
"Ron hates the library. Hermione is the one that always has her nose in a book."
"Oh, so it's the same in your world?" Hermione asked, relief in her voice.
"Yes. Did you really think that I would believe that Ron would spend any more time reading a book that he has to?"
"No. We were just making sure that it was the same in your world," Ginny said.
"So, is Ron coming with us and Hermione going to the library?" Harry asked, confused.
"Yes."
"Can I stay here?" Harry asked, glad that the plans for the next day were set.
"Why?" Ginny asked.
Harry's true answer was 'So I can be near you' but felt that saying that would not go over well. Instead, he said,
"I don't feel comfortable going to Grimmauld Place. Granted I spent many weeks and months living there in my own world and it would be great to see my mum, but I really don't want to go where Pansy Parkinson is. And, even though Snape kept me alive for seventeen years, I really don't want to see him either."
"Alright. I guess you could stay here. Mum won't mind if we explain what happened. I can stay in with Hermione in the guest room and you can stay in my room," Ginny said.
Harry's heart dropped like a stone at this offer.
"Are you sure, Ginny?' asked Harry.
Ginny stared Harry in the eyes. He knew she saw into his heart and soul the way she could in his real world and that she saw his heart breaking because he was not with her and feared he would not get back to the world in which she loved him. It was a few minutes before Ginny said,
"Yes. I'm sure."
"Well then," Hermione said, trying to lighten up the tension in the room, "let's go eat."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Three hours later Harry stood on the landing outside Ginny's bedroom. Ginny had gone into Hermione's room a half-hour earlier and Harry had avoided seeing her in her pajamas. Harry had been standing staring at the door to Ginny's room since she had entered Hermione's and was spending all his energy on building up the courage to enter the room.
The last time he had been in her bedroom had been on his seventeenth birthday before he, Ron, and Hermione had gone Horcrux hunting. She had kissed as she had never kissed him before or since and all the reasons for which he had broken up with her had seemed to disappear.
Now he stood outside her door three years later and could not bring himself to walk inside. Everything that he had been feeling the last few days – especially not being with Ginny – he knew would come crashing over him once he entered the room.
After another ten minutes Harry finally mustered up enough Gryffindor courage to open the door to Ginny's bedroom. When he stepped inside he saw that the room was exactly as it had been the last time he had been in it in his real world: covered in posters of the all-female Quidditch team, the Holyhead Harpies.
Harry stood in the doorway for a few minutes and then walked over to the window. It had a view of the backyard in which he, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione had played two-a-side Quidditch many years ago and in which Bill and Fleur had gotten married. He stared at the garden thinking of all the things he had experienced there and all the things he never would if he didn't find a way to get back to his world.
Slowly, Harry turned away from the window and walked towards Ginny's bed. He sat down on the edge of the neatly made covers that showed the face of the coach of the Holyhead Harpies, Gwenog Jones. He closed his eyes and saw in his mind the night he and Ginny first spent the night together. As he remember the most wonderful night in his life, Harry crawled under the covers and fell asleep thinking of Ginny and the idea that he would be with her soon.