Chapter 41: Green Light - Oct 1994 and Halloween Part 1

Because there were so many changes, Ron thought that this school year felt almost nothing like the trio's original fourth year of Hogwarts: no Triwizard Tournament, no visiting schools, no Professor Moody, no Draco Malfoy, and no blast-ended shrewts.

In Care of Magical Creatures, Ron thought about the last two absences quite a bit.

Professor Kettleburn's lessons were more academic than hands-on. The redhead appreciated that approach each time he thought of Hagrid's manticore-fire crab hybrid experiment. Ron had gotten enough burns, stings, and bites last timeline, thank you very much.

Without the pointy blond's presence, Ron and Pansy Parkinson continued to partner together for various practical exercises in class. Her words were as heartless as Ron had come to appreciate, but their delivery lacked a certain bite.

It wasn't technically a partner activity, but they sat together one class while they sketched a handsome hippogriff that Hagrid was managing.

Ron asked, "Do you miss him? Draco, I mean."

"Yes and no." She drew in feathers to the neck.

"Have you heard from him since he went off to Durmstrang?"

Pansy set her charcoal pencil down and grabbed a letter from her bag. She returned to sketching after handing it to Ron.

Dearest Pansy,

Durmstrang is honestly sort of boring. Bulgarian Seeker Victor Krum attends, but the only thing he wants to ask me about is Harry Potter. And that's even more true for everyone else. My father advised me to not reveal my animosity since my true feelings wouldn't be well-received.

Classes are generally hard in subjects where Hogwarts has subpar teaching, like their equivalent of Defense. I suppose that I'm learning.

I miss you and our fellow Slytherins fiercely. I still consider myself one, even with my present enrollment status. No one here knows me like you all do.

Write to me soon! If you have a shred of kindness in your cold heart, you'll write me about you and leave Potter out of your letter lest I throw it straight onto the fire. You know what I want to hear about.

Your friend,

-Draco

The letter was signed with great flourish, so Ron thought Draco's ego was probably still intact despite the burden of being perpetually reminded of his former nemesis.

When Ron handed the letter back to Pansy, she said, "Of course I mailed him a clipping about boy wonder's Hogsmeade bravery." She frowned at her drawing as she tried to smudge away a mistaken line that gave the winged horse-bird a too-thick neck.

Ron said, "He doesn't sound very happy there. Maybe his father will let him come back to Hogwarts next year?"

"That'd be fine with me, I suppose."

After Hermione's warning about Professor Wicket's identity, Ron watched the wizard closely.

In particular, he scrutinized his interactions with Neville. Barty Crouch Junior went to prison (alongside Bellatrix and others) for torturing Neville's parents into insanity.

Ron was confused at what he saw. The professor was very encouraging to all of his students, but especially Neville. Was it was some sort of ploy? Did he simply like him as a student? Or, was he… trying to make up for his past?

Ron was intensely skeptical of any positive motive. While Hermione was the most vicious of their trio, Ron would be right behind her if Wicket made a false step towards any of the "real" students (the trio didn't count).

Ron also monitored the professor's interactions with Harry. "Professor Wicket" didn't bring up his parents after the first class. However, he seemed to be trying to get a sense of Harry's defensive and offensive skills. But that wasn't proof of anything: it was a reasonable part of being a Defense professor. The content of the class itself also gave Ron no obvious clues about the professor's possible perfidious plots.

Unfortunately, Ron knew very little about Barty Crouch Junior from the previous timeline. He had heard the confession secondhand from Harry. The main points: Junior expected to be highly favored by Voldemort, he killed his own father, and he was liked by Winky the house elf. On that last point, Ron didn't think that the trio had to worry about her too much. Dobby had confirmed for Harry that Dumbledore's elf-ward was still in effect.

Harry had described Junior as a bit unhinged during the confession of the previous timeline. Ron thought that might just be situational. The wizard had spent the entire year playing an elaborate role requiring the utmost concentration after over a decade under the imperious curse.

The more Ron thought about it, the more sure he was that the trio simply couldn't predict Junior's moves.

The big thing the redhead chose to focus on was Snape's note implying that the dementor attack was part of a kidnapping attempt on Harry. Since Harry being kidnapped by an agent of Voldemort was also the trio's goal, Ron was optimistic about their chances of success.

Harry was antsy for the entire month of October. I'm going to finish this like it started, on Halloween in Godric's Hallow with people who care about me.

Luna gave Harry an uncharacteristic hug when he told her that he had to be somewhere that Halloween night. "Come back to us."

He brushed a tear from her cheek. "I'll return before you even miss me," he promised.

Luna stepped back, and Harry walked in a roundabout fashion to the statue of the one-eyed witch.

He wasn't wearing his notice-me-not scarf, nor did he have anything besides his clothes, wand holsters, and two wands. His phoenix-and-holly wand was in a leg holster hidden by both robes and jeans. A trace-free wand was in his wrist holster.

Notably, he left the bracelet from Lily up in his dorm. She had specifically written him about wearing it, so he knew she would be furious with him. However, he had to do this.

Ron had advised Harry not to explicitly seek out Professor Wicket before leaving. It might be suspicious, and they could try again later if this particular baited hook didn't catch.

After ditching his school robe just inside the passage, Harry walked carefully through Honeydukes. Then he made his way to the edge of town.

He did a basic glamour on his face, then hailed the Knight Bus.

Stan and Ernie were incredibly nosy, but Harry didn't mind terribly. It was a distraction from the stomach-churning ride.

Twenty minutes later, they let him out at Godric's Hollow.

Harry walked to the Potter's cottage first. He looked at the messages written on the gate. They strengthened his resolve to do what needed to be done.

He then walked over to the statue and looked at baby him held by his mother. He hated the beautiful, loving face on his mother. She was beautiful, of course. But it was a lie. Sev was the courageous one, dying to give me the chance to end the war.

Finally, he walked to his parents' graves. He didn't want to read what was written on them, because he didn't need to. After he found out Snape's real identity, he came to visit many times.

However, he couldn't look away from the lies. The gravestone said that Lily Potter died in 1981. The choice of a quote about living after death was terribly ironic for someone who was still alive.

Prior to time traveling, Harry had said a lot of things to the dirt and the stone that he no longer meant.

However, this was not the time to catalogue his current thoughts and feelings on James Potter, Lily Potter, or Severus Snape.

Ropes shot around Harry's ankles. He made a token protest before tipping over onto the ground.

"Shouldn't you be in school?" A hooded figure asked.

"Shouldn't you be too, Professor Wicket?"

"Snape said that you were smart. But not smart enough." Professor Wicket grabbed Harry's hand in his own, then said "From one graveyard, to another."

That statement must have been a portkey passphrase because the pair made a dizzying trip through space.

Barty Crouch Junior's hood fell back, exposing the face of Professor Wicket. If Harry hadn't been so disoriented by the portkey, he might have said that the wizard looked confused.

"Make yourself comfortable." He left Harry lying face-up on the ground in the graveyard situated next to Riddle Manor, feeling a bit stupid.

Harry squirmed against the ropes binding him but they were tight. This is so… awkward. Maybe I should have thought of a cooler plan?

"You are an incredibly stupid boy."

Even an insult from a deeply disappointing person in a life-threatening situation couldn't suppress the instinctive relief Harry felt at hearing Lily-as-Snape's voice. It had been six months since they last laid eyes on each other.

Harry scrutinized Snape's face. Full of many conflicting emotions, Harry said, "You look tired. Aren't sabbaticals supposed to be restful?"

"Shut up, brat." Harry couldn't tell if he was imagining the barest hint of… something not unpleasant… in his tone.

Both Harry and Snape believed that the latter could make his way out of any trap orchestrated by Voldemort, but the stakes were still high. His escape could still have costs.

The situation intensified rapidly. A third, masked servant of Voldemort joined the group.

In short order, Barty Crouch Junior put baby Voldemort into a cauldron. He then added the (replaced) bone of the father, flesh of the servant (taken from the unknown figure), and blood of the enemy.

Voldemort stepped out of the cauldron and was quickly given a wand and a robe by Junior.

Harry couldn't stop himself. "You look terrible." Then, he shut the hell up.

Hermione was probably already in place nearby, and she would definitely scold him for disobeying her warning not to goad Voldemort. At least Harry hadn't gloated about the horcruxes.

Regardless of their ill-advised nature, Harry's thoughtless words fit the image. Voldemort had a human nose, but looked worse than Harry remembered from the other timeline in almost every conceivable way.

In a rasping voice, Voldemort demanded a chair. Snape conjured a fairly elegant upholstered chair. Harry noted that it looked more comfortable than throne-like.

After a short rest, Voldemort started the same sort of monologue as he gave in the previous timeline, though Harry noted that he had not summoned any of his followers. "You, Harry, lay near the grave of my filthy muggle father."

Harry sort of appreciated that what Voldemort told him was actually the truth about his origins and rise to power.

Harry's heart skipped a beat when Voldemort pointed his wand directly at him.

"My most loyal and trusted servants will spread word of your demise. Goodbye, Harry Potter. Avada kedavra."

While waiting for the spell to hit, Harry noted that Voldemort's words had never risen above the volume of a whisper.

Once again, Harry awoke to a hazy version of King's Cross Station. But there were two key differences:

There was no crying baby Voldemort.

Also, a woman with red hair and green eyes was watching him.

"Sev?" Harry asked.

"Correct. This is why switching rituals are considered dark magic. Even in death, I maintain her form."

"I thought this was all in my head?"

Lily's face frowned. "That would be pointless."

"I have so many questions for you. Do you regret saving me? Do you really hate my father? Do you now hate Lily?"

Sev put up a hand. "My answer is generally no, to each of those questions. To expand on that, I was the one to beg for Lily's life with the Dark Lord. That was specifically so that I could then offer my own life using her form. The swap was my idea. I had months to back out, and I didn't."

Harry said as neutrally as he could, "She blames herself, you know."

"And maybe she should, for some things," Sev sighed. "Your mum was my best friend, but that doesn't mean I can't see her flaws. At times, we made each other worse people by focusing on our shared anger and spite. We were also too wrapped up in what we could achieve through elaborate fronts, and not who we wanted to be for ourselves."

Harry frowned.

Sev sighed soundlessly in the strange, otherworldly place. "Given more time, I think we could have grown into… higher-quality friends. We probably would have mellowed out into mischief like your father and his friends. That's the sort of thing that drew your mother to James."

"If Voldemort hadn't been around, do you think that you and she would have been Dark Lords?"

"No. That was merely the imaginations of children. While there is a grain of truth to most what she told you, some of it was intended to push you away. She and I were already less interested in the Dark Arts themselves by the time we graduated, finally understanding their dangers in the ways that children struggle to. Furthermore, your mother's political aspirations almost certainly died with me."

Harry had so many more questions. "Did James know about the body swap?"

Sev nodded. "Lily doesn't know, but I told James about the swap after Pettigrew shared the Fidelius secret with me so that 'Lily' could re-enter her own home. James was far from pleased, but he knew who his wife was and loved her anyway. He and I lived together in relative peace for the single week that protection lasted." Sev's voice hardened. "I respect James, but I never understood how he could stand to be friends with Pettigrew, let alone trust him with his life."

A part of Harry's heart unclenched.

As though forcing himself to relax, Sev continued, "Ultimately, though, I am more than content that my death helped end that war. And with you and your friends' actions, the war won't restart."

Thrilled at the unexpected opportunity to speak straightforwardly, Harry asked another question: "Did Lily not know that Wormtail was the secret keeper when you died?"

"No, she thought it was Sirius for a decade. I regret that I neglected to tell her that, having been overwhelmed by many other aspects of my plan." Sev sighed wistfully, "I always worked better with her, and I couldn't that time."

Harry nodded in reluctant understanding.

"While I neglected that important fact, I left Lily many other pieces of information to help her understand what I did and why. Additionally, I knew that Voldemort might not die, even with my extraordinary actions, and I documented several paths to remedy that."

Harry tipped his head to the side. "Did you know that she might end up serving Voldemort again, after your death?"

"I did. It was a possibility that I advised against, based on my own experiences. But, I did tell her that she could maintain my identity with my permission and do whatever she liked with my form to live the rest of her life."

Harry's mouth formed a tight line. She could have done anything.

Sev looked at Harry knowingly. "It is my opinion that she has made many egregious mistakes with that since my death," Sev said plainly. "Still, I think she can continue to grow and become the sort of person that you'd want to know."

Harry said softly, "That would be something, I suppose."

Sev looked at Harry sadly. "Forgive your mother, or not. I don't think there's a wrong choice there, other than to not actually make a choice. Don't let her slide into your life unchecked, nor let her drift away without a fight. Your decisions can be tentative or conditional without succumbing to the pull of the easiest path."

Harry was deeply touched by his advice, which spoke to Harry's struggles with simply accepting whatever was offered. Harry told his mother's friend, "I wish I could have known you."

Sev gave a distant sort of smile.

Harry moved to ask more, but Sev interrupted, "Our time grows short. You must return to the land of the living."

A final, wild question spilled from Harry's lips, "What's your patronus form?"

"A crow. Goodbye and live long, Harry."

"Thank you! For everything."

King's Cross faded away.

A/N: There are 7 chapters left in this story. See you in a few days for the next installment!