Chapter three:
The rest of the summer seemed to pass in a strange juxtaposition. On one hand, it was dragging on slowly. I knew I needed to get back to my world, and each day that passed was another day where the people in my real universe were freaking out. No doubt if the other Harry and I had truly switched places, Mad-Eye Moody would be convinced he was an imposter. And yet, on the other hand, I was greatly enjoying life here. Lily was worried that I still hadn't regained my "memory," but I made extra care while I was around her to put on a good show of normalcy. Ben and James didn't seem particularly worried, much to Lily's annoyance, but I still caught them stealing glances at me from time to time.
I read the other Harry's journal every night. I had spent the first several days skimming over the thing so that I could get a general idea of what the other Harry's life was like, and now I had moved on to reading it word for word.
His life was incredibly ordinary. In first year, he had met Ron on the train, same as me. But there was no one after the Stone, and no misadventures into the forbidden corridor. Draco Malfoy was still a git, and Snape was still the ill-tempered Potions master. Quirrel taught Defense Against the Dark Arts, but it appeared he had suffered a nervous break-down after a pack of Blast-Ended Skrewts inadvertently made its way into his vegetable garden. As a result, Lockhart took over in second year, only to be quickly replaced by someone named Norman Lewis, an elderly man who still apparently taught at Hogwarts.
I went through the other Harry's old textbooks, which all stopped at year five.
But I would be seventeen next month. So I was a whole year behind, too? I hastily checked my reflection in the mirror. I supposed I looked the same as I did before—but I felt older.
This was weird.
Late July rolled around, and I still hadn't heard from Sirius, which bothered me. My family—his family—didn't seem to think anything of it, however. I had asked James if I could write him, and if he knew the address.
"No owl will be able to find him," said James. "I've already tried it a hundred times."
I frowned. "Why not?"
"Security, probably. Owls coming and going to wherever he is will attract attention, especially if he's in a part of the world where it isn't common."
"The world?" I repeated, stunned. What exactly did Sirius do for work? Next time I saw him, I'd make a mental note to ask.
"Oh, yeah. You see that vase over there?" he said, pointing across the room. "Sirius brought us that five years ago from somewhere in Africa. And the bowl on that bookshelf there came from Chile."
Each morning I had half-expected to wake up at the Dursleys as usual, but of course nothing had changed. While it was still weird, I was getting used to it surprisingly fast. If anything, I was more worried about the fact that I wasn't worried at all. Was it because in this world, I had my parents and Sirius back?
Every once in a while I caught myself coming dangerously close to thinking about what it would be like to stay here. I could fix the things that were off; befriend Hermione, repair the strange relationship with Sirius… But it wouldn't be right; this wasn't where I belonged. I had to force the thoughts away and focus on my two problems at hand. One couldn't be resolved without help, so I would need to wait until I could speak to Hermione. The other, which I had expected would be easy to solve, turned out to be just as difficult. No one betrayed any real clues that the other Harry hated Sirius, and unless I asked them outright, they wouldn't.
This left the month to pass in a sort of strange funk. Ben was in and out of the house a lot; apparently his best friend lived down the road. My parents were typically working, so I was given free reign of the house a majority of the time. It was only a shame that Ron was grounded; I'd have liked the company of a familiar face.
With only two days to go until my seventeenth—er, sixteenth birthday, I received two letters in the mail. The first was the usual letter from McGonagall about the start of term, but the second was hastily scrawled out. Definitely not her handwriting. I tore it open and felt my eyes widen.
Harry,
Congratulations! You're Quidditch Captain! I've had a good think about this, and I've decided on you to replace me. In addition to the normal requirements as Captain, you're also in charge of replacing your team. Katie and I have left now, but I'm sure you'll have no trouble scouting a new Chaser and Keeper.
Sorry that it's taken me so long to send this out—I've been training for my new team all summer. Puddlemore United!
Oliver Wood
Huh. That's all I could think. Wow. If I wasn't jealous of the other Harry's life before, I certainly was now. I folded the letter back up and set it down on my desk, which was now cleaned up. I suddenly thought of Ron, and wondered if he was still Prefect in this world. No doubt Hermione was.
I quickly scrawled out a letter to Ron, informing him of the news, and nearly addressed a second to Hermione before I remembered. It was definitely weird not having her as a friend in this universe. Well, as soon as term started, that would all change.
When my parents returned home—the other Harry's parents, I had to remind myself—I told them the news. My dad was ecstatic, but my mum was more worried. Clearly she hadn't forgotten about my accident with the tree.
"See, I knew you'd be made Captain," James said, clapping me on the shoulder, grinning. He turned to Lily. "We should celebrate! Have Moony and Wormtail over! I'd say the Weasleys, too, but I'm pretty sure Ron's still grounded, right?" he added, turning to me.
"Yeah, I think so," I said. I couldn't stop smiling, but something felt oddly bittersweet about it. This was the world I should have had.
"What do you say, Evans?" James asked, deliberately using Lily's old nickname teasingly. "We celebrated when Harry became Prefect—"
"We celebrated because Harry had more sense than you at that age," said Lily, but she was smiling. She finished unloading the groceries she had picked up at the market on her way home and came around the island counter to hug me. "Congratulations, Harry, that's such exciting news! Have you told Ron yet?"
"Yeah—I sent him a letter," I said distractedly. So I had become Prefect in this world. I didn't know whether to be elated or nervous. I remembered guiltily about how jealous I had been of Ron when he received the letter; would he feel any differently here, given that I was Prefect and Quidditch Captain? Granted Ron wasn't on the team, but still…I hadn't forgotten what Ron had seen in the Mirror of Erised back in our first year.
We ended up celebrating on my birthday since it was so close. Lily had gone out of her way to hang decorations on all the surfaces of the first floor. There were color-changing balloons, musical streamers, and double banners: the first read "Happy Birthday!" shortly followed by "Congratulations!" There was a cake and all my favorite foods, and a small table of presents from my family and friends. I couldn't stop smiling. Even if all we did was sit around doing nothing, I could have been content. I had never celebrated a birthday with my family before, unless I counted my very first year.
Lupin and Pettigrew both showed up, grinning and gifts in hand. It was easy enough to see Lupin again, but I felt my chest tighten at the sight of Pettigrew. I had to keep telling myself that it wasn't the same world, that this Peter had never betrayed my parents. But if Voldemort came knocking suddenly, would he still give them up? I couldn't stop thinking like that when I was around him, so I made a mental note to avoid Pettigrew as much as possible. Luckily, this wasn't too difficult as James, Lupin, and Pettigrew all hung around each other on the far side of the room, cracking jokes.
The Longbottoms showed as well, which was almost as strange as seeing my dad laughing with Pettigrew. Alice came in first, hair cropped short, and hugged Lily. She was quickly followed by her husband Frank, and their son, Neville.
"Happy birthday, Harry," said Neville, catching my eye as they came through the front entryway.
"Thanks," I called. "You too."
The Weasley children were still grounded, so they weren't allowed to come. But even so, the house was pleasantly cheerful. Lily was chatting animatedly with Alice while Frank joined James and the others on the far side of the room. I was working my way through seconds when the front door opened again, this time to reveal—
"Sirius!" called Lily happily, catching sight of him. "We didn't think you were coming!"
Sirius smiled nervously, as though uncomfortable by all the sets of eyes that suddenly turned on to him. "I just got back an hour ago," he said, shutting the door behind himself.
"Well, help yourself to some food!" said Lily, pointing toward the buffet table. "We haven't cut cake yet, so you're just in time."
Sirius grinned at me as he approached, a badly-wrapped package in his hands. He held it out to me. "Happy birthday, Harry."
"Thanks," I said, smiling. If Hermione and the Weasleys could be here, then it would be perfect.
"And," he said in an undertone, reaching into his pocket. He glanced around to make sure no one could see. "Don't let your mum see," he said, setting a small leathery pouch in my hand. "I don't think she'd approve."
"What is it?" I asked, turning it over in my fingers. I could feel a small, thin object inside.
"Don't open it here," he said in an undertone, helping himself to the food. "The pouch is enchanted moleskin—only you can reach inside and pull out whatever's there. I've added a charm of my own, so you can fit just about anything in there, provided it's no bigger than the Knight Bus."
"What's inside?" I asked, pocketing the moleskin pouch and setting the other present on the table with the others.
"It's called a Key of Solomon," said Sirius. "I found it in Israel. It will open any lock, even if the lock is charmed."
"That doesn't sound so bad," I said. I glanced around the room, and caught at least three people watching us. They all quickly turned back to their conversational partner. Okay, so now it was clear that everyone in this room knew something about the other Harry's relationship with Sirius that I didn't. Annoyed, I briefly entertained the idea of whether or not they were expecting me to start shouting at Sirius. They probably did.
"Well, technically it's a banned object," said Sirius, shrugging. "It's not Dark or anything—it's just that it can easily fall into the hands of thieves and the like. That's why I got the moleskin pouch to go with it."
"Thanks," I said appreciatively. I thought of the penknife Sirius had purchased for me two years ago, how it had been able to undo any lock. It seemed the two Sirius Blacks thought exactly the same.
Sirius looked around the room and caught sight of the two different banners. "I get the 'happy birthday' one, but what's 'congratulations' about?" he asked.
"I was made Quidditch Captain," I said, still hardly able to believe it. Well, technically it was the other Harry who was made Quidditch Captain, but he wasn't here. And since I was pretty much filling in the missing spot in his own life, I might as well say it was me.
"That explains it," said Sirius thoughtfully. "For a moment I thought it was 'nice one on surviving Quidditch accidents long enough to see your sixteenth birthday.' Well, congratulations, Harry. But now your dad isn't going to stop giving you pointers on how to run the team."
"Of course I'm going to," said James, coming up behind Sirius. "Griffindor went undefeated for an entire year because of me."
"Not because you slipped a Puking Potion into the Slytherin team's pumpkin juice?" Sirius asked, eyebrows raised.
"Definitely not," said James, picking a skewer off of Sirius' plate and taking a bite. "Though I don't envy the elves who had to clean up the quidditch pitch. So, Padfoot," he continued in an amused undertone so that only Sirius and myself could hear. "What were you slipping my son a minute ago?"
"Acromantula seeds," replied Sirius without missing a beat.
James grinned, leaning against the table so that he had a perfect view of the rest of the room and all its occupants. "It's not the you-know-what we had talked about last Christmas, was it?"
"Maybe," said Sirius, his tone deliberately vague.
James turned to me, smiling. "Don't let your mother see," he said quietly, echoing Sirius. "So what's the word on those Persian rugs?" he added in a normal tone.
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "James, do you know what it would look like to smuggle a magic carpet into England?"
James waved his hand dismissively. "You've got the motorbike, and they don't raise a fuss about that. Surely that would qualify a visit from the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office—"
"I suppose it would, if they knew about it," said Sirius, pulling his plate away from James, who had been about to steal a second skewer. "I just don't understand why you want one—"
"Well, on a broom you can only fit one person," said James. "And sometimes Lily and I'd like to go on a nice Sunday ride."
"Yeah, right."
"So you gonna tell me where you've been?" James asked, but something about his tone suggested he already knew the answer.
"Work," said Sirius flatly, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.
That reminded me. "Sirius, where do you work, exactly?" I asked.
He turned to me. "I do work for the Ministry. Mostly international stuff, so I travel a lot."
"What do you do?" I asked. I caught James' eye, and he mouthed the word "Unspeakable" before giving me a thumbs up. I tried not to grin.
Before Sirius had a chance to answer, Lupin and Pettigrew approached.
"Haven't seen you in forever," said Pettigrew to Sirius. "Prongs here has been so bored that he's actually behaving himself."
Sirius grinned at that. I, however, felt my chest tighten. How bizarre it was to have the four of them here, talking like the best of friends. Well, they are the best of friends, I reminded myself. The short man next to me may still be Pettigrew, but he wasn't the one I knew and it wouldn't be fair to hate him as if he were.
That, of course, was easier said than done. Knowing it would be too difficult to fake a smile and act casual, I slipped out, pretending to fill a cup of pumpkin juice from the far end of the buffet table. Sirius noticed, and we locked eyes for a second. Suddenly the pleasantly warm atmosphere shifted, and it was back to this simple fact: I was not the Harry that belonged here. Sirius glanced at Pettigrew for a split second before turning back to me, clearly guessing what I was feeling. I still didn't know if he thought I was off my rocker, but he obviously remembered my story for he kept Pettigrew occupied and away from me for the rest of the night.
With Sirius, James, and the others busy cracking jokes in the corner, I was able to drift through the rest of the room unnoticed. I retreated into the stairwell, examining the photographs on the walls. I heard footsteps approaching, and turned to see Lily.
"Having a nice birthday?" she asked, a half-empty glass of red wine in her hand.
I smiled at her, feeling an odd sort of warmth at this simple encounter. Something about Lily's presence was so calming, so…motherly.
She looked at the photographs I had been examining. "That was your first broom," she said, pointing to the one right in front of us. "You were only a year old. Sirius bought that for you. You had only been walking for a few weeks by this point, but you were completely comfortable on that broom."
It was a wizarding photograph of the one-year-old me, floating about a foot off the ground on a toy broomstick. James and Sirius were standing off to the side, laughing while the baby version of me whizzed around.
"And here," she continued, pointing to the photo just above it. "This was your first date."
"My what?" I said, stunned.
Lily smiled at me. "You were only six here, but you were enamored by this muggle girl named Jane who lived down the road. We were worried at first—you know, because of the Statute of Secrecy—but you managed to make a couple of flowers bloom in the winter time and give them to her." Her smile widened at the memory. "She gave you your first kiss here. But she moved away the following year."
"What about this one?" I asked, pointing to a photograph near the top.
Lily, who was a few inches shorter than me, stood on the tip of her toes to see the one I was referring to. "Oh, that was shortly after Ben was born. He won't admit it now, but he loved having a big brother. Followed you everywhere, like a baby duck. I think he's two, maybe two and a half, there. He had a toy broom of his own, but his couldn't fly as high or as fast as yours. You see, you were already six here. But you flew low to the ground so Ben could keep up."
I turned to look at her, a sudden constricting in my chest. She was examining the wall of photographs with a small smile, then turned to look at me. "I'm so proud of everything you've done, Harry," she said, green eyes—my eyes—glittering.
"Mum," I said quickly. I knew where this was going, and I wanted to stop her before we got there.
"Sorry, I know it's embarrassing to see your mum cry," she said, wiping her eyes. But she was smiling. "But you're sixteen now. I can hardly believe it. It was only yesterday that you were learning to walk." She smiled at me again, her eyes brimming with tears and happiness. I couldn't stand it. "Oh, before I forget," she said suddenly. "We have to cut the cake! But now I'm a mess…"
I wasn't aware of doing it. I wasn't really aware of anything. I would say that it was instinctual, but I had never had a mother before, so I don't know where it came from. Either way, before I could even think of stopping myself, I hugged her. I hugged her exactly the same way Mrs. Weasley had sometimes hugged me. Fifteen years she had been dead in my world, and now—for whatever reason—she was standing in front of me. I couldn't make myself stop.
A little while later, we both ambled back into the drawing room, where everyone else had been gathered, eating, talking, and laughing. I passed out slices of the cake, listened to James tell embarrassing stories of me in an impromptu birthday speech, and opened my presents. It was late when our guests went home, leaving only my family and Sirius, who had stayed behind to help clean up.
"Hey, Lily, maybe we should hire a maid," James suggested, poking his wand at the pile of dishes in the kitchen sink.
Lily snorted. "Please. And teach our boys what? Imagine washing those by hand."
James placed a hand over his heart as though he had been shot. Lily threw a balled up napkin at the back of his head.
I moved back into the main entryway, where Sirius was removing the banners with Ben.
"So then," Ben said, barely keeping his laughter in check. "Then we look outside, and that git Baddock is outside, holding this huge banner that reads, 'Eleanor Branstone, will you marry me?'"
Both Ben and Sirius roared with laughter.
"You're kidding!" Sirius managed, leaning onto the wall for support, the forgotten banner still in hand.
Ben shook his head, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. "So then McGonagall comes to the window to see what all the fuss is about—had to call Snape 'round so he could give Baddock the antidote. Snape actually had to drag Baddock down to the dungeons, 'cause the git wasn't going to go willingly, not until Branstone said yes."
They laughed again. Ben turned and caught sight of me. "Hey, Harry—do you remember whatever happened after that?"
I had no idea. I was pretty sure I didn't know who those two students even were. "Er, no," I said, trying to sound casual. "Remind me."
"Well," said Ben, a little breathless from laughing. "All I know is Baddock got a detention or two from all that. Never could find out who slipped him the Love Potion."
Sirius was in town for a week before disappearing again. I knew James had been joking about the whole Unspeakable business, but now I was starting to consider it as a possibility.
Lily took Ben and me into Diagon Alley two weeks before the start of term to buy our school things. I had pretty much outgrown my robes by almost a foot, which stunned Lily.
"I just don't understand how you can keep growing," she said, shaking her head as I was fitted for new robes at Madam Malkin's. "I thought for sure last summer was going to be your last growth spurt. You and Ron are both nearly as tall as Sirius, now."
After the robes, we braved the crowds at Flourish and Blott's. Ben was able to re-use some of my old textbooks as the contents hadn't changed, but he was required to purchase a new Defense Against the Dark Arts text and a supplemental guide for Charms. I, however, needed a new set of nearly everything. I had been so used to being embarrassed over the cost of my books as Mrs. Weasley typically picked them up for me, but Lily didn't think anything of the high price.
"Here, put your books in here," she said, holding her shoulder bag open once we had exited the claustrophobia of the store and stepped back outside.
I raised my eyebrows. One or two books might fit in there, but not all of them. Ben, however, thought nothing of it, and slipped his books inside. They didn't even appear to bulge out.
"Will they fit?" I asked hesitantly, peering around the stack on my arms. My books were heavy, but I didn't mind carrying them. I especially didn't want to shove them all into Lily's bag and make her arm fall off.
"'Course they will," said Lily, taking the top one off the stack. Like Ben's books, they disappeared inside and gave no sign that they were taking up space. Seeing my inaction, Ben took the rest of them from me without preamble and slid them inside Lily's bag. Somehow, they all fit.
"Isn't that heavy?" I asked, frowning.
Lily shook her head. "No, I don't even notice it. Your father found this Bottomless Bag and thought it was funny. I just put a simple Featherweight Charm on it, so it feels like it's empty most of the time. It makes grocery shopping a lot easier."
I was impressed, but neither Ben nor Lily seemed to think anything of it.
"All right," said Lily, consulting a scrap of parchment on which she had written a list of everything we needed to do in Diagon Alley. "Let's head to the Apothecary next."
While Ben looked for re-fills, I browsed the shelves. Apparently I was signed up for N.E.W.T. level potions, which was a shock. I was skimming the rows of creepy-looking ingredients when I noticed a familiar brunette head standing on the other side.
"Hermione?" I said, stunned. I quickly moved around to the other side of the shelf.
She looked exactly like the Hermione I knew, with the same slightly bushy brown hair and muggle clothes. Her eyebrows raised when she saw me, obviously taken aback by my eagerness. I had to remember that this Hermione and the other Harry weren't friends. But I was going to fix that as soon as I could.
"Hi, Harry," she said warily, taking a half-step backwards.
"How's your summer been?" I asked, trying to sound casual.
"Fine," she said in the same voice. "You?"
I nodded. "Good. You taking Potions this year?" I asked. Even I could tell my voice sounded awkward.
"Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Defense, and Arithmancy," she said. "Although I did consider dropping arithmancy this year, since we're at the N.E.W.T. level."
"I'm sure you'll be fine," I said, shrugging. "You're the most brilliant witch I know."
For some reason, Hermione blushed slightly at that. What? Ron and I had always said Hermione was brilliant, and it had never caused her to blush before.
"Well, I'll see you on the train, Harry," she said, moving toward the front counter.
"Really?" I said before I could stop myself.
She paused, one eyebrow raised. There was a small amused smile on her face. "Prefect's compartment? We have to tell the Fifth years their general duties."
"Oh. Right," I said hastily, trying to play it off like I already knew that. "Yeah, well, I'll see you then."
Hermione gave a small, hesitant wave before purchasing her ingredients and leaving.
"Chatting up girls?" came a voice behind me. I turned to see Ben, who was holding several new glass bottles and looking amused.
"No, we're just friends."
Ben raised an eyebrow at me before turning to the shop door, where Hermione just exited. "Right. You and Granger? I don't think so."
"Why not?" I asked, getting heated. Half of me was annoyed that anyone could think that Hermione and I couldn't possibly be friends, and the other half just wanted to know why the other Harry and Hermione weren't.
"Well, because you're Harry, and she's Granger," said Ben, like that explained it. Seeing my expression, he rolled his eyes. "You may both be Prefects, but you two don't go together. You're popular, you've always got girlfriends, and now you're Quidditch Captain. Granger's nice enough, but she's kind of this oddball."
"She's not an oddball—"
Ben's eyebrows raised. "Yeah, okay. Only you're the one who calls her an oddball."
"Since when?" I demanded, rounding on him.
"Since like your first day at Hogwarts," said Ben, picking up a glass vial Hermione had been examining earlier. "You and Ron. 'Course, I think Ron's just secretly in love with her, but hey—it's your nickname for her, not mine."
"You two ready?" Lily called from across the shop.
"Yeah, Mum," said Ben, moving to the counter. He saw that I wasn't following him, then said, "You coming?"
I forced my feet to move, uprooting myself from the spot on the floor. Ben had to be taking the mickey out of me. Okay, so I could see how Hermione's brilliance could be a little intimidating, and it was sometimes annoying to always be compared to her in class. But it was Hermione; she was my best friend. Or at least she used to be.
Those were two relationships the other Harry had just thrown away, now. I was really starting to dislike the other version of me.
After the Apothecary, we made our way to the Quidditch supply shop so I could buy new gloves. I had lost any interest in shopping, however, so I just stared blankly at the wall of gloves while Ben and Lily looked at the different brooms.
"If you're done standing there like an Inferius," came a familiar drawl from behind me. "I'd like to take a look at the gloves myself."
I turned to see Draco Malfoy standing there, looking just as unpleasant as ever. Malfoy had always been slight like me, but now he had also shot up like a weed. He looked more man than boy, giving him an uncanny resemblance to his Death Eater father.
"Shove off," I muttered, not in the mood to be creative with my insults.
"I could say the same for you," he said pointedly. "Now either move over, or go away so everyone else can take a look."
I took a large step to the side without turning my head. I think Malfoy had been hoping for more of a fight, because I heard him sigh as he stood right next to me. While I wasn't in the mood to argue, I did take a secret joy in the fact that standing next to me annoyed him. He picked out his set of gloves relatively quickly, then turned to me and said, "Good luck as Captain, Potter. You're going to need it."
I briefly considered replying with something snarky, but I had better things to think about. I ignored him as he walked away, this time trying to actually concentrate on the pair I wanted. After examining nearly every set, I grudgingly selected the same pair Malfoy had chosen. I felt they were somehow tainted, but they were easily the best gloves for a Seeker.
"What was Malfoy saying to you?" Ben asked a few minutes later when we had exited the shop.
"Just being a git, like always," I muttered.
"You know he's been made Captain, too, right?"
I felt my eyebrows shoot up. "Are you kidding? Who would make that idiot Captain?"
"Well, if you buy the whole team new brooms, anything's possible," said Ben with great dislike. "Too bad it doesn't make him any less of a terrible player."
"Too bad he can't trade in some of those Galleons for brains—"
"All right, that's enough," said Lily, though her voice lacked any note of scolding in it. "Let's go home."
I wasn't in a good mood the rest of the evening, but my mum—I mean Lily—just attributed it to shopping all day.
"Your father's the same way," she said when we had reached home. "Unless we're in the Quidditch shop, the stores sort of just drain away his will to live."
I retreated to my room and sort of haphazardly dumped my new school things onto the foot of my bed. Hedwig was moving restlessly in her cage, so I opened my window and let her out so she could go hunting. I had a few mouse skeletons on my floor that I needed to clean up, but I really didn't feel like it. I had spent the last month enjoying this different life, but now I was starting to feel more anxious than ever to get back.
But going back would mean that Sirius and my parents would be dead again.
My sour mood lasted the next several days. My family seemed to attribute it to boredom—Ron still wasn't allowed visitors—and kept suggesting things for me to do, none of which really peaked my interest. I often played a modified version of Quidditch with Ben and his friend Eddy Mulligan, who lived down the road, but Eddy was so terrible that it was more annoying than fun. Ben, however, was remarkably fast, and I briefly wondered why he wasn't on the Griffindor Team. He would have made an excellent Keeper.
Otherwise I spent all my time going through the books in my dad's library, looking for anything that could possibly hint at alternative universes. I told the others that I was just doing some last-minute homework, which passed as an acceptable excuse. Apparently the other Harry was just as much of a procrastinator as I was.
The only thing that really lifted my spirits was a sudden and unexpected visit by Sirius the night before term started. I was lying on the floor of my room, absently drawing on the corner of my last Charms essay in Disappearing Ink, when someone knocked on my door.
"Come in," I said dully, thinking it was someone coming to tell me dinner was ready.
"Aren't you sore lying on the floor like that?"
I hastily turned to see Sirius standing in the doorway. He was leaning against the doorframe, one hand on the knob, and a small smile on his face.
"Sirius! I didn't know you were coming," I said, both surprised and pleased.
"I wanted to see you one last time before term started," he said, shutting the bedroom door and moving around the mess in my room. He took a seat on the edge of my bed and pulled a book from the back of his waistband. "Here," he said, holding it out for me.
I took the book curiously, and felt my breath catch when I read the title: The Universe and Multiple Reality: a Physical Explanation for Manifesting, Magick, and Miracles. I looked back up at Sirius, stunned.
He gave an awkward sort of half-shrug. "It was all I could find on such short notice. There was a lot of nonsense garbage about 'awakening your inner being,' but this seemed to be all right. So I, er, hope it helps."
I opened the spine of the book, which was a little worn and threadbare. Did this mean Sirius believed me? I skimmed through a couple pages before turning back to him. "Sirius—"
"It's still weird to me," he said, answering my question before I had even asked it. "But…I mean, anything's possible. I just don't know how much I can help you. I'm really not an expert on this kind of thing."
"This is perfect," I said earnestly, looking back at the thick volume. "Any little thing helps, really."
"Have you still not told your parents?" he asked, frowning.
"No, I didn't. And I'm still not going to."
Sirius adjusted his weight on the bed, sighing a little. "Why don't you want to tell them?"
I hesitated. Why was I keeping this a secret from them? I hadn't really dwelt on it too much, but there was a reason, a reason I had been a little ashamed to admit. "In my world, my parents died when I was a year old. I never knew them. So now," I said with difficulty. "Now it's like having them back. Like being part of a normal family, you know? I don't want to ruin that."
Sirius was still watching me, frowning. It was impossible for me to guess what he was thinking. Slowly, without me being completely aware of it, I asked the question that had been burning in my brain since the first day I ended up here. "Sirius, what happened? Between you and the other Harry?"
Emotions flickered so fast over Sirius' face that it was almost impossible to catch them. He hesitated, looking extremely uncomfortable. I almost considered taking the question back, but I had to know. "I wasn't a very good godfather," he said finally.
I felt my eyebrows rise. "I don't believe that," I said before I could stop myself.
Sirius gave me a small, wry smile. But there was something pained in it. "No, it's true." He sighed, running a hand through his hair distractedly, exactly how the other Sirius acted when he was thinking over something heavy. "When you were born, it was one of the best days of my life," he said. "Lily used to joke that you might grow up confused as to whether James or I was your father because I was around so much." He paused, reflecting on some distant memory, then said, "But after a few years, I wasn't around as much. Then I just wasn't around at all. I broke a lot of promises. I'd say I'd show up for a holiday or a birthday, and then never show.
"I always felt guilty about it," he continued quietly, frowning. "But at the same time, I never did anything about it. Your dad and I had a few falling outs over it, but he always forgave me."
"But not me," I said. It was a statement more than a question.
Sirius shrugged, not willing to let the other Harry take the blame. "You—he—had every right to be upset. I was a huge part of his life and then I just disappeared without an explanation."
My skin felt electrified. Sirius had said "he" instead of "you" in reference to the real Harry of this world. I felt a rush, and wanted to keep Sirius talking. "Then why is the other Harry the only one who's mad?" I asked. "Why not Ben?"
Sirius shrugged. "I think Ben was too young to understand. I think he was about three or four at the time. You were seven. For Ben, I was the godfather that popped in maybe once or twice a year. But you had come to expect that I was a part of your family, and then I just left."
I frowned. "Why did you leave?"
"Work."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Remember in Diagon Alley, when I told you it wasn't a good reason?" Sirius hinted.
"I just can't see that happening," I said, frowning.
"Why not?"
Merlin, because of a thousand things. "Well, it seems to be that everyone here is exactly like their selves from my world, only without being dead. For myself, I would never be so stupid as to hate you over something as ridiculous as your job, and I can't believe the other Harry would, either."
"Well, that's your answer then, isn't it?" said Sirius, sounding a lot like Dumbledore just then. "In your world, your family are dead, I'm a prison escapee, and you have Death Eaters. You would probably invest more in the relationships you do have, because you know how fragile they are. Here," he continued. "there's no such thing. You never had to worry about your friends and family being murdered, so there's nothing for our offences to pale in comparison to."
I frowned. I couldn't believe that was the real answer. But maybe it was. Maybe the other version of me had turned into a selfish, spoiled brat because he had everything I had ever wanted. His family was alive, his friends weren't being murdered, and Voldemort wasn't after him. Voldemort didn't even exist here. Is this how I would have turned out in my world, too?
"Hey," said Sirius gently. I looked up and realized he had been watching me. "Don't dwell too much on it," he said.
"How can I not?" I asked dully.
He waved his hand dismissively. "Focus on the things on your plate right now. The past is the past. You've got term starting tomorrow. And," he added, pointing to the book that was still in my lap. "you'll need all your energy elsewhere." He got to his feet. "Have a good year, Harry. I can't promise I'll be around for Christmas, but I'll try."
"Sirius," I said when he had reached the door. "I'm sorry."
He waved a hand dismissively. "There's nothing to apologize for, Harry."
"But—"
"Whether you're my Harry, or a different one, I've been able to be a part of your life again, even if that part's small. That's more than I deserve." He waved at me from the doorway. "Be good."
I couldn't help but smile. One of the infamous Marauders, telling me to behave myself. "Bye, Sirius."