Chapter two: Intergalactic universe-switching time-travel
It was ridiculously hot, a huge contrast to the windstorm from the previous day. Beads of sweat were starting to form at my temples, and I was beginning to wish I had worn shorts instead of jeans.
I stared at the addresses as I passed, comparing them to the slip of parchment in my hand. I turned a corner and found myself on a narrow one-way, tall trees obscuring the buildings on either side. Twenty feet up, there was a dark-haired man sitting on the stoop, crushing a cigarette butt.
"Sirius?" I called. A knot formed in my chest as I said his name, and I half expected the man to disappear into thin air.
The man looked up and smiled. "Hey, Harry."
This Sirius looked familiar to the one I knew, though much healthier. His frame was filled out and his skin wasn't white and papery. In fact, it was actually quite tanned, as though he regularly travelled to the south. Upon closer inspection, however, I saw that he still had the same tired expression and the same dull glint to his eyes.
I was about to mention how much nicer this neighborhood was in comparison to Grimmauld Place, but then I remembered that this universe's Harry had probably never step foot there.
The door to the building was propped open, as if to let in some air. Sirius led the way into the dim marbled corridor, and to an antique lift.
"How was term?" Sirius asked genially. "Your mum going to keep letting you play quidditch even after your accident?"
"Term was…good," I said, sure that this Harry's year didn't involve Voldemort or the death of his godfather. "I'd like to think I did really well on my O.W.L.'s, but with Snape teaching Potions, I'm not so sure." I said that last part without thinking, and immediately regretted it. What if Snape didn't teach Potions here?
Sirius didn't seem to think anything of it. "I'm sure you did fine—your mum was one of the best in our year, so all the notes she sent you must have helped. If not," he added casually, hitting the button to the top floor. "Your dad and I can always jump him."
I grinned at that.
The apartment was as different from Grimmauld Place as it was possible to be. The windows were huge, almost touching from floor to ceiling. The kitchen was filled with stainless muggle appliances, and the place had a very clean feeling to it, like it was rarely lived in.
"Can I get you anything?" Sirius asked, opening two of the enormous living room windows to let in some air. "Are you hungry at all?"
"I'm fine," I said, still looking around the apartment. The mantle over the fireplace held pictures of myself and Ben from our childhoods. Above this was a very expensive-looking muggle oil painting.
"Thirsty? I think I have some pumpkin juice in here somewhere."
"Yeah, that sounds great," I said distractedly. I didn't know what to do with myself, so I sat down on the sofa, still taking in my surroundings. Sirius' apartment looked like a very cool bachelor pad belonging to someone who travelled too much to really enjoy it. I turned and watched Sirius as he removed two glasses from the cabinet. His mannerisms were exactly the same as the ones belonging to the Sirius I knew. He handed me a cold glass, and I suddenly felt very thirsty. I hadn't noticed how hot it really was outside.
Sirius sat down on an adjacent chair, and I saw him looking at me out of the corner of my eye. I could tell he was curious, but like me, didn't know how to begin.
I took a deep breath and looked at him. "I…need your help," I finally said.
"Okay," he said simply, waiting for me to continue.
This is where I was stuck—how do I explain that I'm not from this universe, and didn't know how I got here? At least, that was the theory I was sticking to. The idea of Dark Magic re-creating a world just sounded like too much.
"I, er…something happened," I began vaguely, hoping to be inspired into saying the right thing.
He frowned slightly, but didn't interrupt. If Sirius was at all confused by my ambiguity, he didn't show it.
"You know how I've been having some funny memory issues lately?"
"Okay," said Sirius, straightening up. "Don't take this personally, but as your godfather, I have to ask—" He paused, then spoke as though he was trying a new foreign language. "You're not doing, er, drugs or anything, right? No experimenting with potions or spells-?"
"What? No," I said, taken aback. "No, no nothing like that."
He seemed to relax. Don't get comfortable yet, I though darkly.
"I don't remember certain things because, well, I'm not the same Harry." I paused. Here goes nothing. "As in I'm not the same Harry as this universe."
Sirius, whose eyes had been focused on the floor, slowly looked up at me.
"I don't know how it happened, or why," I said quickly, hoping to explain everything before Sirius interrupted. "But suddenly I was here, and everything was different, and I feel like I need to tell somebody or I will explode. I mean, are alternate universes a thing? Has this happened before?"
I took a deep breath and waited for Sirius to say something. Instead he just sat there quietly, a crease between his eyebrows.
"Have you, er, told your parents any of this?" he finally asked.
I snorted. "Are you kidding? They already think I'm off my rocker by forgetting minor details like how I have a brother. Mum's already worried I've sustained some kind of brain injury since my quidditch accident—which I haven't," I added hastily, before I could incriminate myself. "I just…don't know what to do. I mean, I'm enjoying having my parents around and everything, but I think I need to get back—to my universe, I mean."
Sirius was watching me with a mixed expression of confusion and slight alarm.
"You have to promise not to tell anyone," I continued, filling the awkward silence. I was glad to be holding the glass; otherwise I'd be wringing my hands, and that would definitely make me look crazy. "Especially Mum and Dad. They'll freak out."
Sirius nodded once, very slowly. "And... if you're a different Harry, then where is the first one?"
I snorted. "Probably in my life, I expect," I said darkly. "Though I think he got the short end of the stick in this switch. A dead family and Death Eaters must come as a real shock to him—"
"Death Eaters?" Sirius asked suddenly, sounding taken aback.
"Yeah, you know." Just as I said it, a sudden thought came to my head—maybe Voldemort simply never existed in this universe. "Dark wizards? They follow—"
"I know what they are," said Sirius, his frown deepening. "I'm just surprised you do. I haven't heard that term in almost twenty years. They've mostly been forgotten, even by people old enough to remember them."
"Oh," I said, feeling incredibly uncomfortable under Sirius' gaze. "Well, they're pretty rampant where I'm from. So's Voldemort, nowadays."
There was a pained silence. I could tell Sirius didn't know whether to think I was insane or an imposter. I'm sure I would think I was insane if I were him; I'm actually quite surprised at how calm he's been able to stay. "I know it's really weird," I said. Ugh, there was a pleading note to my voice. All I needed to do now was throw in some tears. "But I swear I'm not lying or, you know, brain-damaged. I can prove it.
"You ran away at sixteen," I said, wracking my brain for things I was sure this universe's Harry couldn't know. "You lived in Grimmauld Place, and had a house-elf named Kreacher, who's really unpleasant. There are Dark objects everywhere in that house, and elf heads mounted on the walls. You told me your aunt started that tradition. I have a cursed scar," I added, moving my hair away from my forehead to show him. "It's from Voldemort, so the other Harry can't possibly have it." I briefly considered throwing in the fact that I could speak Parseltongue, but then remembered that the ability was generally considered the mark of a Dark wizard. I didn't need Sirius thinking I was some kind of imposter.
Sirius rubbed his temples, eyes closed. I waited in silence; with each minute that passed, I felt like this was a bigger mistake.
"This is going to take some time to, er, sink in," he finally said, looking up at me. He looked more tired than ever. "And if you really, really don't want me to, I won't tell your parents," he added. He sounded like he was agreeing to this against his better judgment. "But I do have one question…why did you come to me? I mean," he added hastily, trying to explain. "It's not that I mind or anything, but…why not Remus or the Weasleys, if not your parents?"
I must have looked incredulous, because then Sirius said quickly, "I mean, I don't mind that you have. I'm just…surprised."
"In my real life, you're the only family I have," I said dully. "My parents are dead; Ben was never born." And now you're dead, too.
Sirius looked at me with a heavy expression. There was a crease between his eyebrows. He gave a shaky sigh, then said, "So…do you, er, know how you got here?"
"No," I said dully. "I can barely even remember what I had been doing right before showing up here suddenly."
"When did you…switch over?" Sirius asked slowly, like each word was completely bizarre to him.
"Right when I came to after the quidditch accident," I said, fully aware of how bad that sounded. A logical person would assume a brain injury was far more likely than intergalactic universe-switching time-travel, or whatever was going on here.
Sirius nodded, clearly trying to understand. I had to give him credit. I would just think that I was barking mad.
"And what am I like in your, er, other life?" he asked, trying to lighten the tone of the conversation.
I felt a pang in my chest at the question, but tried to disregard it. "You turned out all right. I didn't meet you until I was thirteen, and I thought you were a murderer—"
"I'm a what?"
"It's another really, really long story," I said quickly. "But we got that straightened up, and finally got to know each other. Due to forces beyond our control—Voldemort," I added as clarification. "you never got to raise me, but we were close." I cleared my throat awkwardly. Even though Sirius was sitting right in front of me, it was still painful to talk about him. It was a weird thing to think that Sirius was both dead and alive at the same time.
"Okay, you really need to explain this to me," said Sirius, straightening up. "In your other life, your parents are dead and I'm a murderer. And you're really keeping in touch with a murderer?" he added, a scolding tone to his voice.
"You're not a real murderer," I said hastily. Then I added, "Everyone just thought you were." The look on Sirius' face told me clearly enough that I needed to explain.
"Okay, well, in my universe Voldemort tried to take over," I began, trying to simplify everything as much as I could. "And he had all these Death Eaters and allies—everyone was afraid of him, and people kept disappearing and dying. Then there was a prophecy made, about him and a baby—" I gave Sirius the general idea of the story. I wasn't sure whether to include the fact that it had been Pettigrew who had betrayed them all, especially since it appeared they were all still friends in this universe. Eventually I decided on including that detail, if only because Sirius would ask anyway.
"So I went to live with the Dursleys after that. I didn't even know I was a wizard until I got my Hogwarts letter," I finished. "And then when I was thirteen, you broke out of Azkaban, and that's when we met. So…that's that, then." I didn't want to launch into the other story of how Pettigrew was really Scabbers, and how I had tried, embarrassingly enough, to attack Sirius and kill him.
Sirius was sitting across from me, a strange expression on his face. It was then I noticed that the sun was setting outside, and an evening breeze was making the apartment a little chilly. Sirius must have noticed this too, for he closed most of the windows and turned on some lights.
"Do you think I'm completely insane?" I blurted out.
Sirius looked over at me. He took a deep breath, then said, "I don't know what to believe, honestly. My instinct says you hit your head in your quidditch game, and another part of me was hoping it really was as simple as a phase of teenage experimentation, but…" he shrugged. "I don't know. Anything's possible, I suppose."
I didn't know how to feel about that. Sirius didn't say he believed me, but he didn't disbelieve me, either. At least there was that.
"Are you hungry at all?" Sirius asked, moving to the kitchen.
"Er, yeah," I said, remembering I hadn't eaten since that morning. Lily had forced me to eat a bigger share of breakfast than the others since I had missed out on dinner the previous night.
Sirius placed a pan on the gas stove, which switched on automatically. As Sirius cooked, he asked me about my real life: did I have the same friends, did I still play Quidditch… Like the Sirius I knew, I found it was very easy to talk to him. Darkness had fallen long ago, and I was still surprised when Sirius said I should probably get back home before my parents worried.
"Can I come see you again tomorrow?" I asked.
Sirius looked surprised at that, but quickly changed his expression. "I have some errands to run tomorrow, but you're welcome to come if you really want to. It won't be that exciting."
"Yeah, I do," I sad earnestly. We had talked about me all day, and I was curious to know everything about this Sirius. The Sirius I knew had also had such rotten luck in life that it was nice to think that, in one way or another, he also had a chance at normalcy.
"I'll pick you up at nine, then," he said. "That too early?" he added with a smirk. "Usually you're in bed until one in the afternoon."
"No, I'll be up," I assured him, placing my plate in the sink.
"I think the station's closed for the night," he said, checking his watch. "I'll have to take you home by apparition."
"No fireplace?" I asked, already sure of the answer. I hated the feeling of disapparating.
"Sorry, no fireplace," he said, setting his own dishes in the sink. He dried off his hands with a towel, and held out his arm. "Don't throw up."
I felt an uncomfortable combination of being squeezed in all directions and spinning very fast. A split second later, however, I found myself standing on the lane in front of my parent's house. It was late, but all the lights were still on.
I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling dinner starting to churn in the pit of my stomach.
"Well, I'll see you tomorrow," Sirius said, placing his hands in his pockets.
I turned to him, frowning. "Don't you want to come in?"
Sirius hesitated. Before he could answer, the front door opened.
"We were wondering when you'd get home," James called, stepping out into the porchlight. "I see you've finally convinced your evasive godfather to come along with you," he added in a teasing tone.
Sirius followed me up the walkway to the house. "Hey, Prongs," he said, nodding.
"Nice to see you again, Padfoot," James said sincerely. There was a look on his face that seemed to say that Sirius had a lot of explaining to do. "Come in," he added, beckoning us towards the house.
Sirius and I followed James into the kitchen, where Lily was kneading dough roughly. She looked surprised and pleased to see Sirius, but this quickly switched to annoyance.
"It's almost eleven!" she said scoldingly. "I hope you fed my boy, at least?"
"Still stress-baking, I see," Sirius noted. "What, did you think I had kidnapped him? Yeah, I gave Harry some beetles for dinner," he added in response to Lily's question. This appeared to be some kind of running joke, because Lily let slip a smile as she shook her head at him. She put a kettle of water on the stove, and began boiling water for tea.
"Hey, Padfoot—come with me for a moment. I want to show you something," said James. He and Sirius exchanged the briefest of glances before disappearing from the kitchen.
Lily shut off the tap and turned to me. "How was your visit?"
"Good," I said, forcing a yawn. "I'm pretty beat, though, and Sirius is going to pick me up in the morning. I should get to bed."
"Okay, sweetheart," she said. For a moment, she looked as though she wanted to say something. But then she kissed the top of my head, which was almost impossible since I was taller than her.
I made a show of going heavily up the staircase. As soon as I reached the second floor landing, I slipped off my shoes and crept into the spare bedroom. I had seen a vent in the floor the previous night that peered right into James' office.
Sure enough, a small dim light shone through the vent on the floor across the room. I laid down with my head pressed next to it, listening.
"…completely curious," James was saying.
"Yeah, I was kind of taken aback, too," Sirius admitted. I inched closer to the vent; Sirius spoke so quietly it was difficult to hear him.
"So…what did he say? Are you two talking again?"
"I think so," Sirius replied slowly. "At least until he remembers that he hates me."
I froze up at this. Since when did I hate Sirius? Or rather—the other Harry?
"He doesn't hate you," James countered placatingly.
There was a low chuckle. "Remember last Christmas, where he shouted it for everyone to hear? I think it's a safe venture to assume he hates me."
There was some kind of movement outside the office, because then Sirius and James fell silent. I distantly heard Lily's voice, but it was too difficult to make out her exact words. I think she was telling them to move to the kitchen, but then I heard my name somewhere in the mix.
"We'll be there in a moment, thanks, dear," came James' voice.
There was another pause, then he continued, "Since it's my parental right to intrude—"
"He's not experimenting with potions or anything," Sirius interrupted. "I already checked."
I rolled my eyes at that.
"Er, not quite the direction I was going in, but that's certainly good to know," James said. "I was just curious what the two of you talked about."
My stomach knotted. Was Sirius going to tell him I was completely mad, and had been going off about being from another universe?
Sirius hesitated. "Nothing significant, really," he finally said. "He told me about his quidditch accident, of course. Then we mostly talked about school. I asked how his last year went."
I had to commend Sirius for his ability to lie without really lying. Technically everything he just said was the truth. Granted, there were a few significant details left out, but he hadn't made something up.
"Huh," said James thoughtfully. "Well, I guess maybe it's not completely awful he's lost his memory—don't get me wrong. As his dad, I'm still freaking out inside," he added. "But for a while there, Lily and I were worried you two would never make up. This is kind of like a second chance—"
"Until he gets his memory back, you mean," said Sirius darkly.
"Eh, well, maybe it won't matter by then. Maybe he'll fly into another tree," he added jokingly.
I shook my head, rolling my eyes at that.
Someone sighed. I think it was James. "I don't know how long this will last—if it lasts. But I do hope you'll at least take advantage of it. You and Harry have hardly spoken in years, and not a word since Christmas. I know you're skeptical, but I hope you'll at least try."
"You make me sound like the bad guy."
I could practically feel James rolling his eyes. "That's not how I meant—"
"Yeah, yeah," said Sirius. "Don't do anything stupid to make Harry hate—okay, fine, dislike—me. Again. I've got you."
"You're not going to say anything about how you and Harry don't get on anymore, are you?"
"Not if you don't want me to," Sirius answered. "Although I'd feel like I was lying to him."
"He's just stubborn, like his godfather," James countered. "And he's angry, and he's a teenager. He'll grow out of it. And when he does, he'll need you around to help him deal with everything he would rather die over than tell his parents about."
I heard the sound of movement, and then the office door opened once more.
"…find Lily," I managed to hear James say. It sounded as though they were heading back towards the kitchen.
When I was sure they were gone, I got to my feet and silently crept back towards my bedroom, which was still a huge mess from the night before. Sitting on top of the messy bedcovers was a letter from Ron.
Hey, Harry
Hope you're feeling all right and that your parents didn't go too hard on you. Mum's grounded the rest of us for a month—all for a game of Quidditch! Anyway, hope your prison sentence isn't as long as ours. Hey, maybe they'll see the accident as punishment enough, you know?
See you on the train in September, since we're no longer allowed out,
Ron.
I couldn't help but smile to myself a little at that. As bizarre as this universe was, Ron was still Ron.
I laid down on my bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking heavily. So this Harry and this Sirius never got along? That was so strange to think. By what James had said, it sounded like something that had happened. Apparently something big enough that the other Harry would stop talking to Sirius altogether.
It was especially strange because I hadn't run across a single thing in reading the other Harry's journal. The most unusual thing I could find was that Sirius wasn't mentioned as often, and that his photos weren't as plentiful in the stairwell. Was that because the other Harry had tried to keep him away? Sirius wasn't a bad guy—what on earth happened to make this other Harry think he was?
It was then I remembered the pages scribbled over so heavily that it was impossible to read what was once there. That must be where the other Harry had talked about all this. But why had he scribbled over it?
I rolled onto my side, staring at the mess of clothes and random objects that littered the floor. It was impossible to imagine that in a universe where I had my family and there were no Death Eaters I appeared to hate my godfather. It was completely insane.
I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep once again that night, so instead I plotted how to get the information from Sirius tomorrow.
The next morning was a bit of a blur. I ate breakfast quickly, trying not to stare at Ben. He looked exactly like me, except that he had James' eyes and Lily's nose. He didn't have glasses though, so that was another difference. He seemed to be only half-awake however; his hair was sticking up in every direction and it looked as though all his attention was focused on eating. I was glad for this, because I felt Ben—or Benjamin Sirius Potter, as I heard my mum yell at him that morning—wouldn't overlook the obvious differences between me and the other Harry quite as much.
Right at nine, Sirius showed up. He was dressed in a cool mix of tailored muggle clothes and old sneakers. He smiled at me when I opened the door, but I still caught the slightly nervous look in his eye. I had to try very hard not to blurt out my demand for answers right then—my parents still didn't know the Harrys had switched universes.
"Thanks for babysitting, Padfoot," chided James, leaning comfortably against the doorframe while I hastily tied my shoes. "Mind taking some of my robes to Madam Malkin's while you're out?"
"Hem your own bloody robes," Sirius replied, hands in his pockets. "You ready, Harry?"
James leaned past Sirius and peered out into the drive. "No motorbike?" he whispered, an eyebrow raised in amusement.
"Lily will kill me," Sirius reminded him, following me down the steps. "See you later, Prongs."
"Don't lose him!" James called loudly.
I saw Sirius roll his eyes and smile a little at that. "You can make another one!" he called, opening the iron gate and stepping back to allow me to pass.
We were standing on the empty lane just outside the house. "Your vote," said Sirius, looking at me. "Knight Bus or apparition."
It was like being asked if I would rather drown in cold water or drown in lukewarm water. Of course, this Knight Bus could be different from the one I knew, but I doubted it, somehow. I don't think the conductors of the Knight Bus drove gently, regardless of the universe. "Uh, apparition, I guess."
Sirius held out his arm, and a moment later, I felt like I was being turned inside out.
I stumbled when we reappeared, and Sirius had to grab me to keep me from falling over.
"Gotta get used to it," he said, his voice betraying his amusement. "You're going to be learning to disapparate this year."
"Isn't there a better way to travel?" I asked, trying to keep my breakfast down.
Sirius shrugged, leading the way out of the alley and toward what I recognized as the Leaky Cauldron. "You'll get used to it."
I doubted that very much. The only thing worse than disapparition were Portkeys.
We passed through the Leaky Cauldron, and I felt as though I had been wearing my invisibility cloak. Not a single person turned to look at Sirius or me. In my universe, either of us passing through a public wizarding space would have caused an uproar. No one stared at me as we passed, no one whispered behind their hands, and I found I rather enjoyed the invisibility. Before, I was only able to pass unnoticed in the muggle world.
"You okay, there?" Sirius asked me.
"What?" I said, turning to look at him. I realized Sirius had been watching me. We passed through the back door and entered the familiar alley with the brick wall. "Er, yeah. It's just weird."
"What is?"
I shrugged. "Well, no one's staring," I said, looking over my shoulder at the wall of the pub. "In my world, that never would have happened. Boy-Who-Lived, and all. And you, too—you were the only person known to escape Azkaban."
Sirius nodded, as though unsure of how to respond to this. I was so desperate for someone to understand this bizarre situation that I forgot Sirius wasn't entirely accustomed to the idea yet. Maybe I should be more careful when I started talking about things that sounded completely crazy to the people of this universe.
We walked through Diagon Alley just as ordinary and invisible as we were in the Leaky Cauldron. We stopped off at Gringott's first, then made our way through the village from there. We examined the goods sold by street vendors, window-shopped in some of the stores too strange to enter, and strolled down the cobbled lanes. I kept looking at Sirius, who looked so unaware of how bizarre the scene was: Sirius Black, notorious mass murderer, walking casually through Diagon Alley on a summer's day. I couldn't help but smile.
We passed by the Quidditch store after lunch, where a group of students I vaguely recognized were huddled against the window, staring at the latest model Firebolt displayed in the window.
"In my world, you bought me that broom for Christmas," I noted as we looked through the glass over the younger students' heads. "Of course, everyone thought you had cursed it—it took a while before they would give it back to me."
"I bought you that broom here, too," Sirius noted.
I looked up at him, slightly surprised. It was the first time Sirius had made any comment acknowledging that I was in fact from a different world rather than just crazy.
Sirius must have felt me looking at him. He glanced at me and smiled, a little sad. "I convinced your dad to say it was from him—otherwise I don't think you would have accepted it."
I frowned. "Sirius, about that…"
"Come on," he said, leading me away from the window. "We still need to head to Mimi's."
"Mimi's?" I said, confused. I was sure that shop had never existed in Diagon Alley.
"Madam Ingrid's Magical Imports," Sirius clarified. "Everyone just calls it Mimi's."
We walked down the busy street in a heavy silence for several moments. I had been fighting with myself all morning; on one hand, I wanted to know why Sirius and the other Harry didn't get along. On the other, I just wanted to enjoy the day with Sirius. In my world, I never got a real chance to do that.
Mimi's was located just around the corner from the Apothecary. I recognized the building immediately, but in my universe, it had been a cauldron supply shop. The store smelled strongly of incense and was crammed with the most bizarre array of objects, nearly all of which I didn't recognize. There were stacks of intricately-carved furniture, whistling silver objects, floating lanterns, and row upon row of things I couldn't place a name to. Sirius picked up a large package wrapped in brown paper from the counter while I browsed the shelves.
"Some of this stuff is wildly overpriced," he whispered, coming up alongside me a few minutes later. He picked up the strange set of glass runes I had been examining. "Like this. They go for less than a Galleon in Peru."
"You've been to Peru?" I asked, surprised.
"About a dozen times," said Sirius, setting it back on the shelf. "Though I haven't been there recently."
I glanced around to make sure that no one was eavesdropping, then said in an undertone, "I couldn't help but notice…at my house—or the other Harry's house—there aren't a lot of photos of you."
I was testing him, but Sirius kept his face remarkably impassive. He would have made a good Auror. "I'm usually not around a lot," he said carefully.
I stared at him, frowning. "Why not?"
Sirius looked at me, a searching expression on his face. For a moment, I was sure he knew I had eavesdropped on him and James the previous night. He sighed, then said, shrugging, "A lot of reasons, I guess. None of which are good ones," he added.
He was being impressively vague. I wanted to jump right to the point and ask him why the other Harry hated him, but I didn't want to give myself away. I wasn't supposed to know that.
"What's one of them?" I pressed.
Sirius gave me a wry smile. "Why do you ask?" he said.
I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. "Well, compared to my world, it's completely bizarre. Like I said, you're my only real family. I mean, I suppose there are the Dursleys," I relented. "But they hate me, so I don't really count that. But it's weird, you know? Like yesterday, you were surprised that I wanted to talk to you over Lupin or the Weasleys. And even my dad was surprised."
Sirius took a steadying breath, obviously thinking over his answer. I was sure he was going to cave, but then he said, "I guess we just kind of drifted apart over the years. And it's not just you, it's all of us," he added. He shrugged. "It's just touch and go."
I was sure he was lying, but I couldn't bring myself to admit I had been eavesdropping. There's no way that was the real answer—if everyone had fallen out of contact, then why were there still pictures of Lupin and Pettigrew in the house? Why would I apparently be the only one mad at Sirius out of my entire family? It wasn't adding up, but Sirius obviously wasn't going to tell me. I would have to find out another way.
"Can we hang out again tomorrow?" I asked when we exited the shop and began to make our way toward the Leaky Cauldron. "If you're not busy, I mean."
Sirius hesitated, but quickly recovered. Not quick enough, though. "Yeah, sure. I'll come get you again after lunch."
I wanted to try to get more information out of Sirius, but he was proving difficult to crack. It was maddening. Plus, I also just wanted to hang out with him. In my universe, all our meetings had to be secret and were always under the threat of Sirius being caught. I had never been able to just walk around Diagon Alley with him before.
And finally—as lame as it was to admit to myself—I just wanted to be around him more. Whenever I returned to normal, or went back to my world, whatever—Sirius would go back to being dead. It felt weird being around him when I wasn't sure if any of it was real, but I couldn't help myself. I wanted to see him as much as possible before it all went away again. I felt a little guilty that I only felt this way toward Sirius. I was definitely curious about my parents, but I had never known them.
Sirius dropped me off at my parents' house. The other Harry's house, I should say. Lily was in the kitchen, preparing dinner. She made small talk about my day with Sirius. If she thought it was weird that we were hanging out, she didn't show it at all. It was my dad, an hour later, who gave away hints that it wasn't typical.
"You two gonna hang out again?" he asked, sipping a glass of red wine.
I forced myself to shrug, trying to make myself look casual. It was weird to sit at a table of dead people—especially dead people I never really knew in life. "Yeah, after lunch tomorrow."
James looked at me a little too long. I could see him watching me out of my periphery vision. "Okay," he said, turning back to his plate. "How's your face feeling, by the way?"
"Wh—oh, much better," I said. I had nearly forgotten about the fact that I had broken my nose. My black eye had healed quickly enough in the last forty-eight hours, and there were no other visible signs of trauma. "Doesn't hurt anymore."
When I retreated to my mess of a room that night, I picked up the journal and searched through it, looking for any mention of Sirius' name. He wasn't there. There were giant black scribbles and entire pages torn out, but there was no way for me to know what had once been there. I set the notebook on the nightstand, thinking heavily.
I knew I should have been focusing all my energy on getting back to my world, but I had no idea where to begin. Since Hermione and I were apparently not friends, I would have to wait until term to enlist her help. It might come off as a little weird to write her in the middle of the summer if we never really spoke before. That left me with Sirius, but it was hard to stay focused with this bizarre new knowledge of the other Harry's great dislike of him.
Granted I didn't know what the other Harry was like, but surely he couldn't have been too different from me. After all, everyone else here was more or less the same. I couldn't think of any reason why I would hate Sirius, so why would he?
I went downstairs at half-past eight the next morning, and found James sitting at the small breakfast table in the kitchen, reading the paper. Sitting next to him was a sealed letter addressed to me, and I immediately recognized Sirius' handwriting. Without preamble, I pulled it toward me and tore it open. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw James look around his paper at me.
Harry,
I'm sorry this is last minute, but I have to cancel on our plans today. I have an emergency at work, and I don't know when I'll be back.
If I don't see you before then, have a good rest of your summer, and a good school year. Tell everyone I say hi.
Sirius
I flipped it over, almost expecting to see more, but the back of the letter was empty.
"I have an emergency at work, and I don't know when I'll be back," I read aloud. I looked up at James, who was still watching me. "What does that mean? Where does he work?"
James slowly set down the mug of coffee he was drinking from. "With the Ministry."
"Doing what?"
"You know, I'm not sure he even knows," said James vaguely.
I stared at him.
"He originally worked with Gringott's, doing something with codes and curse-breaking," explained James. "He was really good at it, so the Ministry offered him work involving something with internal security. The last I heard, he was involved in some kind of international job. He's never said what. Remus and I have got a bet going that he's an Unspeakable, or is at least doing work for them—Sirius can't say if he was, of course. It's the first rule of the job."
"Does he always disappear like this?" I asked, tossing the letter aside on the table.
"Yes," said James, turning back to his paper. "All the time. Your godfather is an enigma."