CHAPTER 110: Requiem For A Dream (Part 3)

Harry woke up early the next morning, thankful for Aurora's absence as he walked towards the Hufflepuff Common Room. He had already packed all the other Potter's belongings - well, his belongings now - and had nothing to do but wait for Susan to come out from the giant fake barrel. He paced and sat down and began counting to five hundred before launching low-powered blasting curses all over the hallway. Some Hufflepuffs were looking at him funny, others were giving him almost mournful looks - as if his great-grandmother just died, and he was the only one not to know about it - but most of them said hello and Harry forced himself to be as cheerful as possible. He even managed to make conversation with some of them, having to actively focus on what they were saying this time around. Finally, one of the boys whom he had been talking to for a good five minutes or so finally took pity on him.

"Do you want me to go up and fetch Susan?"

It had been nearly an hour. He really shouldn't have woken up that early. "Please."

When she finally came out she was surrounded by three other Hufflepuff girls, Hannah Abbot being the only recognisable face in the bunch, and the way they all looked at him, that knowing almost dangerous expression, made Harry wish he was facing down four Pantheon Death Eaters instead.

"Good morning, Harry." Her voice was light, friendly, upbeat, everything he associated with Susan. And yet it somehow put him on edge even more because it didn't sound fully like her.

All four girls were staring at him, if he was a bit more paranoid he might have even imagined they weren't blinking. It was as if he had been hit by a tongue-tying curse, he flailed his hands around wildly and mumbled whatever would leave his mouth, but it was all a pathetic attempt that finally ended when he all but shouted: "Can we talk alone, yeah?"

Susan gave a sort of laugh at that, and she finally graced him with one of her smiles. "Yeah, alright." The other girls left, each of them first looking at Susan as if trying to make sure she hadn't gone mental before finally taking their leave. After an awkward good morning hug and a quick kiss, the two began wandering the halls, making sure to roam around the corridors furthest from the other common rooms. But even without Susan's entourage there making him feel like he was ten inches tall, the words he had practised all night suddenly evaded him. Susan wasn't helping either, she hadn't spoken a word and Harry knew it would be up to him to start the conversation flowing.

"I was an arse," Harry finally said. "Not just yesterday, but the whole week too. You were just trying to help, and I spat on your face and I- I'm sorry."

Susan kept her eyes forward. "Does that mean you're ready to let me help?"

"You do help. You help every day just by being by my side." Harry stopped walking, pulling at Susan's hand so that she was standing right in front of him. "You know that, right?"

She blushed a little. "Yeah, I know. I just feel like I could do more."

Harry cupped her face, stroking his thumb down her cheek. "I can't tell you everything you want me to. Not yet. Maybe not ever. It's just something I got to deal with on my own."

"But-"

He placed a finger on her lips before he could continue. "It's nothing to do with you or anyone else. I promise. Just something… something Dumbledore told me that's been messing with my head. But it's done now. This funk I've been in for the past week or so ends now, yeah? So it doesn't matter any more."

"And you're going to be alright?"

His own screams blared within his mind. The cold feeling of dementors surrounding him consumed him. Susan's gorgeous face disappeared for a moment as he saw Graham Montague with a knife, Tom Riddle surging from the diary, Dolohov's wicked grin as he slit Susan's throat, Black snapping his wand-

"I'm always alright." Harry gave her the best smile he could muster before leaning in and kissing her.

By the time they went down to breakfast, he and Susan had more than made up for lost time. And those several minutes in heaven, having her in his arms, were all he needed to put up the persona everyone expected him to be. Aurora wanted to fuck with him, to tell him he didn't belong here, that he didn't deserve this life. He would prove her wrong, oh so very fucking wrong. If that meant he had to spend every waking moment thinking about each word he said and how he said it, then so be it. He'd turn himself into the snobbish, moronic, useless twat that this universe's Harry Potter was. He'd put up the act until he actually turned into that. After all, how hard could it be to just be a happy-go-lucky prick?

All through breakfast he was happy and loud and put on a smile that he never allowed to leave his face. He said dumb shit that made people laugh and laughed when others said dumb shit. He took everything he could from the people in his life - the Weasley twins, Theo, Blaise, even the few good memories he had of his father - and cooked up a new personality he latched on to. Even the people he looked to were deliberate decisions made in advance, he wasn't leaving anything to chance.

It worked, sort of. He didn't know how close this new him was to the Prick Potter of this universe, but the Gryffindors didn't seem to note the difference. He didn't think he was being particularly charming, but Susan was still looking at him with that hunger in her eyes that he was growing used to, so it didn't really matter what he was being. All the Gryffindors warmed up to him. He joked around with them and even put himself through their awkward side arm hugs and occasional pats to his back or jabs at his stomach. And he hated every second of it.

They all crammed themselves into a single compartment on the train, forcing Harry to squish himself between the window and Finnegan, but at least it gave Susan a reason to settle on his lap. She smelt different in this universe, less flowery and more like the burning wood of a winter fire. He had hated it the first few days, it always highlighted that she wasn't really his Susan. But he was growing to like it now.

The train ride was tougher than he'd cared to admit, and it began showing him just how difficult the task ahead would be. Pretending for an hour and breakfast was easy enough, but the train back to London was about nine hours. Nine hours of keeping that stupid smile on his face. Nine hours of acting as if he cared about whatever the others were saying. Nine hours of being crammed inside a very small compartment with nine other strangers he couldn't help but hate. It was only Susan's constant presence beside him, the soft stolen kisses and longing glances, that kept him sane.

Somehow, he got through it. He didn't slip or curse at all - well, not at them anyway - and though there were various times when he wanted to storm off to a moment of privacy, he held off for quite a while before he did so. He made his way through the carriages, nearly growling every time he was stopped by some tosser or another, aimlessly wandering around before he was suddenly in front of Theo and Pansy's compartment. The others were there too, Daphne and Blaise and Malfoy and Tracy fucking Davis for some reason.

"Anything you want, Potter?" Malfoy asked snidely after they caught him staring.

"Yeah," he gave a bitter smile. "Fuck off. All of you."

Harry slammed the door and ignored their shocked expressions. Who needed them anyway? Aurora must have been fucking with his mind again if he had somehow walked straight towards their compartment. It wouldn't happen again, he'd make fucking sure of it. When he reached the compartment, he hugged Susan, maybe a little too tightly, and sank his face into her blond hair. She didn't say anything about it, and he was grateful the rest of the ride went by quickly as everyone left him alone.

He put his mask back on as he said his goodbyes to all the Gryffindors at the train station, making empty promises about hanging out in the summer and other plans he was very much not looking forward to. It was only Granger who was distant, waving a rushed goodbye before making her way for the path back to King's Cross. It seemed his little act hadn't fooled everyone quite yet.

"Is everything alright with her?" Susan asked from behind him.

"She's fine. Just hasn't forgiven us for the whole Ministry thing."

"Forgiven you, mate," Weasley snorted. "Me and her are good now."

"I'm sure you are," Longbottom smirked.

Weasley and Longbottom stuck longer with him before each went with their respective families. He handled Mrs Weasley's glare rather well, considering just how much it hurt him, but seeing Augusta Longbottom once more flamed a fire inside him that had gone cold since the winter months. Here was the woman who had let Black snap his wand and chuck him in a cell, one he hadn't seen since that fateful night. And he couldn't do anything to her without fucking up his whole life.

She'd get her reckoning, he would make sure of it.

"So," Susan's sweet voice brought him out of his anger. "We're finally alone, yeah?"

Harry couldn't help yourself. "Counting down the seconds, have you?"

"Oh, you wish, Potter."

"The looks you gave me on the train. My, Susan, some might even think them improper."

"Merlin, I swear, sometimes I can't wi-"

Harry kissed her before she could go on. He gripped her hips possessively, bringing her body flush against his. He put everything he had into the kiss, every last bit of emotion, all those unspoken things she craved of him, hoping it was enough. It left them both breathless, and more than a few people sniffed down at their display. It didn't really matter to him until it was Amelia Bones who lightly coughed for their attention.

"Auntie!" Susan shrieked, and Harry could feel Amelia's disapproving gaze on his neck. Something inside him told him that he should feel afraid, but he just didn't. He'd been interrogated by Amelia Bones before, facing her down like this was child's play compared to it. If it hadn't been for the love bites and the kissing, he might have even thought she approved of them.

"Evening, Director Bones." Harry's insolent tone made both Bones women turn to glare at him. "Beautiful day, isn't it?"

"Mister Potter," her lips thinned. "Subtle as ever, I see."

"He's always been like this," his father appeared behind him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "A bit too cheeky for his own good."

"Gets it from you," his mother said right before she placed a kiss on his cheek. "Hello, Susan. Had any troubles with your OWLs this year?"

Susan was wonderfully awkward during the whole exchange, constantly glancing at his neck, and Harry could practically feel her urge to throttle him for not getting rid of those bruises. Still, she somehow managed to maintain her composure, at least until his father took notice of them. "Well, at least now we won't have to ask them if they enjoyed themselves this year, right, Lils?" A single look from Susan evaporated any lewd fantasies he may have had for the next few weeks.

By the time the Bones women left, his parents had invited both Amelia and Susan for lunch next Saturday, and he had been forced to promise that he would OWL his girlfriend every single day. She kissed him, it was soft and chaste, and it ended far too quickly, and then she was gone.

"I could teach you the bruise removal charm if you want, you know?" His mother whispered conspiratorially as soon as they were out of earshot from the Boneses.

"It does come in handy," his father added impishly.

"Who says I don't know it?" He did know it. Knew it very well. Though probably not for the reasons his parents might expect. "And also, gross. I don't need to know that."

"Well, son, if you know it, and you want your pretty girlfriend to still kiss you goodnight, I suggest you make a habit of using it."

"I'm not talking about this," Harry groaned. "Not with you two."

They kept going, making small jabs at him as they laughed with each other. And as Harry was telling them to shut up and that he didn't want to hear it, he was craving more. This was what it was like, that thing he'd craved for so long. He'd seen it throughout his life, kids interacting with their parents, never imagining he would get the chance. Somehow, the love of a parent had become even more unreachable than magic and spells and otherworldly creatures he had thought to be nothing but fiction. He had been somewhat nervous about how his parents would act given their last encounter, but all that anger and disappointment was gone. Because even though all the mocking and sarcastic questions about his relationship with Susan, he could tell they missed him very much. And as closed off and annoyed as he was trying to appear, he knew that they could tell he missed them too.

He went through the floo first, the green fires dissolved around him and revealed his first glimpse at his old home at Godric's Hollow. He knew this place, down to every wooden tile. He'd lost count of the number of times he had been trapped in the memories of his parents being tortured and murdered in this very house. It was different, much more lived in than before. The couches looked older, the rug was dirtier and wrinkled. There were a few glasses on the living room and kitchen table, and dirty plates on the sink. But it was the same structure. Same furniture. There were a few new additions - TVs a Lazy-Boy and an electric stove, but they were all faded into the background. This was the place where his parents died. The house where he'd been trapped through most of his third year.

He could hear their screams in the back of his mind. They grew louder and louder. He could almost see them there, kneeling, the living room around them almost destroyed. His mother was beaten and cursed and mauled, all in front of his father, Junior, and the other Death Eaters asking questions while the fake Sirius tortured them with glee. He couldn't find a way to breathe, his mother wailed and wailed, and his father cried out to be killed instead. His hands were shaking, fuck, his entire body vibrating. He was stuck in place, unable to move no matter how much he wanted to run, to escape, to leave, and never come back again.

Sirius Black appeared in front of him, a sick smile on his face as he made his way towards Harry. His heart thumped harshly against his chest and Harry bolted, pulling out his wand from his holster, he launched a merciless barrage of curses at Black. Somehow, the bastard managed to block most of them, dodging those he couldn't. Black was yelling something at him, but Harry barely heard it. He put his hands up in surrender, and Harry took his chance. Black only just managed to put up a shield before the curse hit, but it still sent him flying backward and crashing against the wooden table. It snapped in half, glasses and plates shattering as they fell to the ground, and Black was barely conscious as he tried to stand up.

"What in Merlin's name is going on here?" His mother demanded, staring in horror at the destruction in her home. His father suddenly appeared behind her, also stopping at the sight in front of him. His eyes settled on the groaning mess that he'd left Black as, crunching the glass with his feet as he went to help the man.

"What were you thinking?" His father asked.

"No, Prongs, stop," Sirius said. "I spooked him. It was a stupid prank, that's it. Don't blame the kid."

"Stay out of this, Padfoot," his mother snapped before turning back to him. "What the hell, Harry?"

"I- I-" He couldn't be here. Not right now. Not like this. He needed to go. Needed to run. Needed to get away.

"You can't do magic outside Hogwarts!" His mother continued. "You could get expelled!"

"And you can't just blast people apart for stupid pranks. What the hell compelled you to use these curses? For Merlin's sake!"

"Look at this place! It's a mess."

"You could have killed your Godfather!"

"It's fine, really." Black tried to step in again. "It's not his fault."

"You're going to clean this."

"All of it."

"Without magic."

"And you're paying us back whatever you broke."

"Give me your wand."

"NO!" He clutched his wand tightly and ran away from them. He turned and ran up the stairs, hearing as both his parents screamed at him to come back down. It wasn't until he slammed the door shut and locked it with the most powerful charms that Bedivere had taught him before he threw himself down on the ground, his back to his bed as he rode down the panic attack.

It had been so long since he'd had one. So fucking long. He hadn't expected it, it had crept up on him and ruined everything he had worked for the entire day. This had been his one chance to fix things with his parents, and he'd blown it. All because of Black. Because that bastard was here, waiting for him. Because of the fucking dementors and all that time, they sentenced him to relive those memories. Because of Fate fucking up his life and killing off his parents like that. Because of his stupid, idiotic parents who trusted the wrong fucking person. All because he was too fucking weak and couldn't be in a fucking room without spiralling like a fucking lunatic.

It took a while before he could finally breathe, the room expanding around him and giving him a much-needed space. He could hear his parents downstairs still arguing with Black, who was trying to take the fall. "It's my fault, really. I tried to surprise him as Padfoot and it spooked him. I'll fix up everything here. It's not his fault. Just leave him be, alright?"

"He could have killed you, Sirius! That is not okay."

"I would have deserved it. Besides, he didn't, so no harm no foul."

"We can't just allow him to use those kinds of spells like that. Especially when he isn't supposed to use magic at all."

"He won't. Not after this. Just, trust me on this. I'll talk with him later. Just let him be."

Harry almost growled, Sirius fucking Black of all people was down there, defending him, and he had gone up to his room like a great big fucking coward. He must be enjoying this, manipulating his parents into hating him while also acting as if he were such a good fucking person. It didn't matter what universe he was in, Sirius Black would always fuck up his life.

"That's not like it, and you know it." Aurora was there, sitting atop his red and golden bed, looking at him in concern. "Are you okay?"

"Fucking peachy."

"He cares about you," she continued. "He's the Sirius you wanted. The perfect doting Godfather, the one you wished he was back when you first learned about him. So is Remus, for that matter, he just wasn't here right now."

"Oh, you're just loving this, aren't you?" He got right up in her face as he spoke. "Watching from the sidelines until I beg for you to snap your pretty little fingers and cart me back to the hellhole I call home."

"I'm not taking any pleasure out of this," she stood up and met his gaze. "Any of this. Just please trust me on this."

"Trust you?" Harry scoffed. "Alright, but first, why don't you tell me something: why me? This thing you're doing, it hasn't been done in over a thousand years, you said so yourself. And creating a whole new universe like this, taking me out of my own when I'm supposed to meet some prophecy, that can't be good. I don't think Fate itself would exactly approve and yet, I'm still here. Able to choose if I stay or leave. All on your word that it's for my greater good. So, why? What do you know about my future that merits something so extreme?"

Aurora was quiet, and for the first time since he'd met her in this form, she actually looked defiant.

"No?" Harry hummed, barely containing his anger. "No more declarations of self-love? Nothing? And I'm supposed to trust you? Seriously?"

He scoffed, turning away from her as he began analysing the room. It was larger than he had expected it to be, with a TV right in front of his bed, surrounded by various half-filled bookshelves, and a large study table across from the door. There was a picture there of his other self. He was wearing his Gryffindor Quidditch robes, holding the snitch in his right hand, and lifting the house cup with his left hand as the entire team carried him on their shoulders. He felt a corrosive resentment build inside him. This was the person they all wanted him to be, the person he should have been if Fate had stayed the fuck away from him. And he had done nothing to earn it. He had the perfect life. The life Harry was now living. The life Harry was now expected to let go of.

His fist slammed against the frame, the broken glass cutting at his knuckles as the portrait fell to the floor.

By the time he turned back to his bed, Aurora wasn't there any more.

—

The incident with Sirius was not forgotten, but it wasn't spoken of by anyone involved. By the time Harry finally gained the courage to walk down the stairs, the living room had been fixed, the kitchen table was whole once more, and the shards of glass and porcelain had been reformed back into cups and plates. Black gave him a reassuring smile, and Harry forced himself to reciprocate before grabbing something for dinner and rushing back into his room.

He didn't sleep that night. Soon after he was done with his food, he began tearing the room apart. Clothes flew out of their hangers, pictures and trinkets lay on his bed. He read through the summaries of every book on the shelf and sorted through the entire collection of movies and Nintendo games in the room. He studied everything inside the room, taking note of the smudges on the wall and the dents in the cupboard doors. Inside this room was the entire history of Harry Potter. Every detail, no matter how small, gave just a bit of insight into who he was supposed to be. And when he was done with his room he went through the rest of the house, taking advantage of the fact that his parents were asleep as he scoured through every room, from the bathrooms to his father's study, learning everything he could.

If there was a specific way he liked to have his eggs in the morning, he wanted to know.

It went on for a couple of days. His parents didn't care for the mess, but given how he cleaned it up, they couldn't say anything. And once he was done ruffling through everything, he started listening. Whether it was from stories from his parents or letters from his friends, he tried getting every bit of info about himself that he could. It wasn't easy, but sometimes he even managed to bring those topics into the conversation without it feeling forced or raising suspicions. His parents were happy to talk about moments from his childhood, and it served to heal the rift between the three of them, or at least it helped to interact without the Sirius incident looming above them for just a few minutes. His friends weren't as enthusiastic but served their purpose nonetheless. And revisiting his relationship with Susan after their Saturday lunch rewarded him in many other ways as well.

It was tedious and, at times, nearly impossible to keep up with all the new information. He and Prick Potter couldn't be any more different unless they actively tried, and learning all the nuances just to keep up with the act was more draining than he had been expecting. He wasn't just pretending to be a little more happy and stupid and loud. It was about completely shifting who he was, every moment where he may be watched he had to pretend. If he messed up something, no matter how small, it would go noticed, and after the Sirius incident, he was fresh out of strikes. He just couldn't risk it any longer.

He couldn't believe that this was his life now, or that it could have ever been his life to begin with. He could see the merits of being like this, a social butterfly who lived to please and never shut up if he could say something to make someone smile. He reaped the benefits first-hand while pretending to be this new person. People gravitated towards him, and yes, it was mostly because of the reputation Prick Potter had built beforehand, but if he had kept acting like himself, they would have drifted away, and he would have been left alone again. It was something Blaise or Theo or fuck, even Daphne would do, the perfect way to gain followers. The difference was that they did it with a clear end goal in mind most of the time, Prick Potter seemed to do it just for the hell of it. Maybe he liked the attention or had this irrational need to be loved by everyone he met, but beyond that, he wasn't hiding an ulterior motive from sight.

Every time it seemed too hard, whenever a small seed of doubt began growing in his mind, telling him that maybe Aurora was right, there would be a picture of Prick Potter there, smirking right at him, mocking him for the person he became. And it squashed it out completely.

He sent the first letter nearly two weeks after the incident. They all arrived that afternoon, a whirlwind of stench, screams and dirt bursting into his house. "Good morning, boys," his mother greeted them before they could rush up the stairs. "You finally made it, I was wondering when Harry would have you over."

"It's about time, innit?" Finnegan laughed. "Prick's probably been hoarding the console all to himself. As if that will make him any better!"

"I haven't touched it, yeah," Harry parried back. "And I am better than you lot."

"Oh, please!"

That set them off running up the stairs, a swarm of five boys, escaping Lily Potter's cries to not run inside the house. Thomas and Finnegan settled on his bed, with Weasley taking the chair and Longbottom plopping down onto the ground. The moment the door was shut and locked, Finnegan pulled a massive bottle from somewhere inside his jacket and began handing shots to everyone. Harry took them, perhaps a tad too greedily, and the five of them settled in for a night of Mario Kart. Longbottom didn't seem to like the muggle game, leaving the four of them to play without needing to shift controllers between themselves after every loss. They drank and played until the night was done, with Finnegan being the overall winner and Harry only coming second to last thanks to Weasley.

After that night, he began meeting with the Gryffindors every other day. Whether it was trips to the Longbottom estate where they played Quidditch pick-up games or went around Muggle London with Thomas and his parents, it didn't matter, Finnegan always brought a bottle of something to keep things interesting. Thomas could barely handle himself in a broom while pissed and got smacked on the face by a Quaffle, and Weasley made an absolute fool of himself with a dreadful karaoke rendition of Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me, and Harry somehow found that he could stop pretending for a while here and there and actually had some fun.

Whenever the boys decided to take a break from going out - whether it was from a prior commitment or just a really shitty hangover - he went out with Susan. His dates with Susan were much less wild, usually going out to a restaurant just the two of them or taking part in bowling or roller coasters or other muggle activities. They were the perfect break. With Susan, he could be more himself than with anyone else, and he took advantage of that. It was the perfect way to unwind, and he never failed to get lost in her kisses. It was only when she forced him on the triple dates with the other couples of the group that Harry began to actively contemplate if he actually missed torture - or at least preferred it over this.

For people that were in the same friend group, it didn't seem like it whenever they went out together like this. Everyone was so fiddly, the nights filled with awkward silences or just the clear feeling that they'd all rather be anywhere than here. Harry found himself actually glad that he'd hung out with Thomas for a while there before he was forced to deal with those slogs. The girls were still too girly for him - he didn't think he would ever be able to properly feel comfortable with Brown or the Patils - and that Hufflepuff bloke was somehow an even more massive twat than the other Gryffindors. So whenever Susan and Patil got busy elsewhere, Harry and Thomas would almost gravitate towards each other and take the piss out of anything in sight - the Hufflepuff ponce being their biggest target (not that he knew it, of course).

The group as a whole didn't fully meet up until the start of the third week of July. The Weasleys had dug up a hole in their backyard and transformed it into a makeshift pool, so of course the entire group had been invited. And fuck if he didn't owe Weasley for it. The moment Susan began taking off her top and shorts, revealing herself in nothing but that skimpy bikini, Harry felt all the blood from his face travel south, completely disconnecting his brain as she smirked up at him.

"See anything you like?"

She was teasing him, the minx!

"A couple of things, yeah," Harry stepped forward, his hands itching to feel her soft skin. But she jumped backward before he could get to her, splashing on the pool before launching streaks up water at him.

"Then come and get it, Potter."

He all but forgot everyone around him as he dived into the pool. She squeaked and swam away, but Harry was faster. He trapped her in his arms, kissing her thoroughly before she could complain. A hundred years would pass and he would never forget it. The jeers and wolf whistles and the feel of her soft lips dancing against his, the way her hot skin kept sending electric shocks as his hands roamed. If there was a heaven, and he somehow managed to fucking get there, he would want it to feel like this.

They spent the entire day inside the pool. With Granger and Thomas setting up a volleyball net in the middle of the pool, Finnegan inciting chicken fights with anyone around, and Mrs Weasley bringing more and more snacks for the group, the day started going by before Harry could even fully appreciate it. He kept Susan close to him, and he could tell that she felt him whenever he pressed her against him. Eventually, it all became too much and the two of them disappeared for a few minutes before coming back - separately, of course, neither of them willing to become the centre of attention of the group.

But when she was kidnapped by the other girls for their usual conspiratorial talks they had, Harry was left alone at the edge of the pool, watching as the others continued playing. It was his first moment of true quiet in such a long time. With his parents at home and his constant outings, he'd barely had time to sleep, much less actually think. Not think as Prick Potter, but as himself. Theo and Pansy came to mind first, and a part of him desperately wanted them there with him. At least he wouldn't be alone right now. He would have someone with whom he could be himself. People who could fill that void that the Gryffindors just weren't able to. It wasn't that he still hated them, he'd grown to learn how to enjoy himself with them, despite how much he didn't want to. But they weren't Theo or Pansy. Fuck, they weren't even Blaise or Daphne or fucking Malfoy, of all people. They just weren't. They were different, and he was noticing more and more.

He was missing them more and more. He'd spent months separated from them and handled it just fine. But this was different. Back then, he was still in their world. He had Bedivere and Kieran who could contact them, or he could just sneak into Hogwarts if he really wanted to waste his afternoons annoying them. But staying here was cutting ties with them completely. One thing he never considered as an issue, and here he was, sulking about the fact that they weren't here acting all superior-like and pissing him off for no reason.

He started missing Michael, that little boy that he'd grown so close with during his first months of fifth year. Because of him, he'd made it out of the Ministry. If it hadn't been for that, he may have never earned Aurora. He might not even be alive right now. He missed his routine sparring with that bastard Kieran. The two never saw eye to eye, and they were more than happy going head to head, and that hatred created a weird sort of bond between them that he hadn't been able to find here.

It was funny. Had he been asked about it a few weeks ago, he would have said that nothing good had happened in his fifteen years of life. Harry couldn't help but wonder if he would have been wrong about that, or if he was just too fucked up, he'd grown addicted to the pain of it all.

"You're doing that thing again," Weasley told him as he settled beside him.

Harry snorted. "And what's that?"

"Brooding. Acting all sort of angry with the world just because. You usually have a reason for it, though."

There was a question in his words. One that Harry wouldn't have usually answered. But Weasley didn't phrase it like that, he was giving him a choice to answer without putting the pressure on him to answer. And that sort of made it better in his mind.

"Just thinking…"

"Yeah, I can see that."

"Everything's just sort of weird right now, right? Sort of like my life has been flipped upside down. And I know I'm supposed to think a certain way and feel something I'm not, and I just can't."

"Are you talking about you and Susan?" He asked abruptly, and Harry's head snapped towards him.

"What? No! No. This isn't about Susan. Not at all."

"Oh, good," Weasley chuckled. "Had me worried there for a moment, mate."

"It's just… I don't know. Just weird, you know? Like you know things but you don't. And everything's changing, and it's all sort of messed up. It's hard to tell up from down, much less figuring out what we actually want."

"Yeah, I get that. Life's sort of weird like that." Harry couldn't help but laugh, and Weasley looked relieved for it. "Look, everything's going to keep changing around us. I mean, we're going to start our NEWT years soon, and then, who knows what happens. But whatever happens, you'll still have Neville. And Hermione, even if she's still pissed at you. And Susan, if you don't muck things up with her. And me. You'll always have me, you know that, right?"

He would have never thought he'd hear Ronald Weasley say those words to him. Not with his arm slung around him and a bright smile on his face, not after he was sorted into Slytherin on one of the worst days of his life. He wondered if this Ron was as different to his universe's Ron as Harry was to Prick Potter.

"Yeah, I know." He lied.

After that day at the pool, Harry stopped going out altogether. He begged off from most of the invitations he received, claiming prior arrangements. And with Susan coming over in only a few days for their weekly lunch between the two families, he knew he wouldn't get too punished for keeping to himself for a couple of days. It wasn't until that first day off that he realised just how exhausted he was. He didn't leave the bed all day, and couldn't even find the energy to go down for a meal, even as his stomach endlessly complained. He watched the TV or played with his Nintendo 64 or just took naps because he could. Inside the confines of his room, he finally felt free. A small interlude to the performance he'd kept up for God knows how long, and now that he had taken off the mask he didn't know how he was going to put it back on.

His parents complained when he didn't come down that day, saying that he shouldn't be so lazy, but left him mostly alone. The same couldn't be said for the next day, when his father grabbed him by the ankle and pulled him out of his bed by force.

"Ow! What the hell, dad?"

"You stink. You haven't eaten anything since the day before yesterday. And Sirius and Remus are coming for lunch today. So, at least for today, you're putting a pause on your hibernation act."

"You didn't have to pull me out of bed," Harry grumbled. "You could have just said so."

"Where would be the fun in that?"

He showered and ran through his usual ablutions at a sluggish pace, as if taking longer would delay the inevitable. He'd seen Black and Lupin various times by now, they often came by the house, especially Black who worked with his father in the Auror department, and he hated every second of it. It wasn't as easy to pretend with them as it is with the Gryffindors. They weren't nosy, not like Granger was being, though he could almost feel their wariness pouring out in waves whenever they were around him. But every time he looked at them, he couldn't stop himself from seeing his own Black and Lupin. The psychopath and the coward. The man who snapped his wand and the one that condemned him to the dementors. It was easy dealing with them in his universe. He didn't have to pretend he liked them, didn't have to pretend he loved them. He could be as big of an arsehole as they want and if they tried doing anything about them, he'd bring them back into submission with a snap of his wand. He couldn't do that here, not unless he wanted to turn his own parents against him.

He kept up his charade for as long as he could with them, which mainly lasted for a few hours before he was itching to get away. They could tell something was off with him, his parents too had asked if everything was alright between the three of them. But it was just too much. There was too much history between the three of them for Harry to see them as anything other than his enemies. It didn't matter that he knew, logically, that they would never hurt him - not these versions of them, anyway - their presence still put him on edge. This wasn't something that he could maybe get past, like his thing with the Gryffindors. It was just something he'd have to endure. A once or twice a week torture to remind him of home, yet another one of Aurora's gifts.

He steeled himself, preparing the character he had grown to know so well over the past month or so as he made his way down the stairs. Lupin and his mother were there, Black nowhere to be found, and just as Harry noticed that there were only three places set on the table he saw his father stride out of his study in full Auror gear.

"What's going on?" He asked. "Where's Sirius?"

"Death Eater attack," his father said gruffly. "Finally came out of the shadows, those bastards. They took hostages too. I'm sorry, but this can't be helped."

"Go," his mother told him kindly, kissing him as he passed around her. "Just come back for dinner, yeah?"

"Wouldn't miss it, sweetheart," he winked at her. "Remus-"

"It's fine, Prongs. Just make sure Sirius doesn't blow himself up or worse."

His father laughed. "Tell me how and I'll try."

"Wait, dad-"

"It'll be fine, son," his father suddenly hugged him, and he gripped Harry tighter than he ever had before. "I'll be back before you know it. You'll see."

"No, I'll come with you!" He didn't know why he said it, but it felt right. He hadn't thought of being out there in the field since he read that Voldemort and the Death Eaters were all but gone. He didn't realise he sort of wanted to until right now. And though a big part of it was making sure his dad made it back okay, there was something else to it that he couldn't name. He needed to be there, needed to help or do something. The thought of staying here and waiting was inconceivable to him. "I can help. Trust me."

"I'm sure you can, son. But let's just leave this to the grown-ups for the time being, alright?"

"But-"

"No," his mother interrupted, a bit too harshly, something she seemed to regret. "You're fifteen, Harry. You're not an Auror, you're just a boy."

"I'm not a boy-"

"Yes, you are. You're my boy. And if I say you're staying put, it means you're staying put."

This was stupid. It was way too late for all this protection nonsense. He was an asset, a useful one. More importantly, he was someone who could not just sit by and wait just because someone said so. Not even Bedivere fucking Parkinson got him to stop, and thank fucking Merlin he hadn't, otherwise, he wouldn't even be here.

"Dad-"

"You heard your mother, son. I'll be fine." He responded automatically, walking towards the fireplace before turning back to him. "I love you."

His father left, vanishing behind the thick green flames. And as Harry stared at the empty fireplace, he was hit with an uneasy feeling of a pit setting somewhere inside him. One that wouldn't be as easy to ignore as the other ones.

That's it for this chapter, thank you all for reading!

By the time I'm posting this, I'm TWELVE chapters ahead, and I'm in the middle of writing the first arc of Book 2 of the Pray For The Wicked Saga! If you are interested in learning how to get early access to them, join my discord server using the following link: discord . gg / jyPfbGqhJT

As always, thank you for reading, favouriting, and commenting! I appreciate all of you! :)