“So you’re back, are you?� Vernon Dursley spat the moment his nephew was within hearing range. Harry sighed, taking his time as he pushed his trolley towards the fat man. His uncle seemed to be in an even fouler mood than he used to be, but maybe he was remembering the goblets that had bounced around on his head last summer, when Dumbledore had come to thankfully rescue Harry. The slight smile the memory allowed him faded at the thought of Dumbledore. It still hurt to think of him, now that he was gone.

But Vernon’s mind seemed to be on something else. His beady eyes followed the two other people behind Harry, people who seemed to be trailing Harry a little closely –

“Who’re they?� he asked, eyes guarded.

Harry turned around to look at his two companions. “Oh, these are my friends,� he said as politely as he could. “Hermione and Ron.�

Vernon’s face seemed to turn a rather unpleasant shade of purple at this introduction. “I won’t be seen consorting with any more of your people; no I won’t!� he said firmly, glaring heatedly at Harry.

However, the effect was lost on Harry, who had seen much more intimidating and horrifying things in his life. Vernon Dursley had never, for instance, met a Dementor and was forced to hear his mother’s last words over and over again. Nor had he ever felt the slimy, icy skin of Inferi clutching onto his arm, trying to drag him down to the depths, or watched in horror as a monster was reborn, saw it rise above the bubbling cauldron, its red snake-like eyes penetrating every fiber of his body –

No, Vernon Dursley was hardly terrifying.

“They’ll be staying over,� Harry informed his uncle, eyes serious and more mature than Vernon had ever seen them be. “No arguments. Just bear with us until my birthday, and we’ll be out of your hair for good. Let them stay, Uncle Vernon; it’s the least you can do.�

Vernon puffed out indignantly, insulted about his “freakish� nephew ordering him around. The nerve of that boy! “Why, you . . . ‘the least you can do?’ You ungrateful brat! You should be appreciative of all we did for you! We fed you, clothed you, gave you a roof over your head, and a bed to sleep in! You have no right to tell me –�

Ron and Hermione exchanged significant glances. So this was the infamous Vernon Dursley. They had seen the enormous man from afar –it was very hard not to notice him– but had never before been this close. Hermione carefully watched Harry and was surprised to find her friend’s expression unreadable and fairly bored. He didn’t look angry, which was the response Hermione had been expecting out of him.

“No,� Harry interrupted firmly, eyes cold. “You fed me Dudley’s scraps, gave me his huge clothes, and forced me to sleep in a cupboard under the stairs for eleven years until magic scared you enough into actually giving me a proper bedroom.� All the while, Harry’s voice had remained calm and controlled, even when he stressed certain points. “I’ve got something to do, something that’s going to affect you whether you like it or not; it’ll determine whether or not you can still live your shallow lifestyle.

“But I can’t do it until after my birthday, and I had promised Dumbledore to endure you until then. So be my uncle for once and let them stay!�

Vernon sputtered, the large, throbbing vein in his neck threatening to burst. After some deliberation, Vernon reluctantly gestured to the trio, ordering them into the car. While they loaded their trunks into the trunk of Vernon’s car, Ron whacked Harry on the back triumphantly and whispered, “You sure showed him, mate!�

Harry grinned back. It had definitely been satisfying to fearlessly order his pompous uncle around.

The ride back to Privet Drive was awkward, especially with Vernon glancing at his rear view mirror every few minutes to check and make sure that the teens weren’t doing any “funny business.� It was a huge relief for all the occupants of the car when Vernon gruffly told them to get out. After they had gathered their trunks, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stepped over the threshold into the tense atmosphere of Number 4, Privet Drive.

Dudley Dursley, who looked like he’d rather be anywhere but in the presence of three “freaks,� desperately tried to blend himself in with the rest of the room –a feat made in vain, for Dudley’s bulk took up about half the hallway. Petunia’s lips were pursed disapprovingly, her beady eyes icy, but Harry could have sworn he detected some flicker of nervousness in those composed eyes. To her right, Vernon placed an arm around his wife protectively, his stance defensive.

“Er . . . hello again,� Harry said uncomfortably, trying hard not to squirm under the Dursley’s intense stares.

“I won’t be feeding two extra mouths!� Petunia snapped indignantly, her chin raised arrogantly.

Ron’s mouth dropped slightly in disgust at the lack of concern for their well being. He knew Harry hated his relatives, and that they were as stupid as Muggles could be –but he had never thought they’d be this hostile.

Hermione, however, attempted to make some sort of peace with the Dursleys, being a Muggle-born herself. “Oh, you won’t have to feed us. We’ve brought some food for ourselves.�

It was true. The Grangers and Weasleys hadn’t been too supportive at first when their respective children had informed them that they’d be accompanying Harry on a very dangerous quest. Arthur and Molly Weasley had understood a bit better; it was more a matter of Mrs. Weasley being terrified that Ron and her surrogate son, Harry, would be hurt, or killed. But after a lot of convincing on Ron’s part, Mrs. Weasley had agreed that Ron should go with Harry; they could help look out for each other. Harry smirked, doubting that she would ever stopped worrying about them; which was why Ron had consented to send his mother weekly owls informing her of their progress and welfare.

Hermione’s parents had been more difficult to persuade. She was their only child, after all, and they still weren’t very familiar with the wizarding world, even after six years. Hermione told them that she would also owl them, and informed them of the dire need for them to do this, that she would be able to help keep them and the rest of the world safe.

However, that didn’t stop their parents from trying to help them in any way they could, whether it’d be advice from Mr. Weasley, or a trunk full of food from Mrs. Weasley and the Grangers.

Hermione fished around her trunk, pulling out a box of snacks her parents had sent them. “Here, would you like some? They’re perfectly healthy, sugar free –my parents are dentists, you see.�

But her last comment only seemed to infuriate the Dursleys even more. “We have your people working on our children’s teeth?� Vernon demanded, hatred laced in his voice. Dudley, however, eyed the box of treats greedily with pig-like eyes.

Looking slightly alarmed at Vernon’s outburst, Hermione quickly reassured him, “Oh, no, no, my parents are Muggles –non magic folk like you. They’re not wizards.�

However, as hard as Hermione tried to reassure them, there was no reasoning with the Dursleys. Petunia’s expression became darker, and Harry had a suspicion as to why.

“So,� Petunia sneered, her thin face contorted in disgust. “You’re like her.�

“Like who, Mrs. Dursley?� Hermione asked, scrunching her eyebrows together in confusion.

Petunia’s gaze settled on Harry. “Like my freak of a sister.�

Harry’s fists clenched tightly at this, and his knuckles began to turn white. Gritting his teeth furiously, Harry reached into his pocket for his wand, preparing to curse his aunt into oblivion. But before he could do anything, Ron, sensing Harry’s anger, had grabbed his arm, steering him towards the stairs. “C’mon,� he muttered quietly. “Don’t go having a row just yet . . . you’re supposed to stay here, remember?�

Hermione followed them, her face reflecting both repulsion at the Dursleys’ behavior and pity for their bigotry. The thump of their trunks was the only audible sound in the house, until Hermione whispered a spell to levitate their heavy burden to the top of the stairs, saving them some trouble and causing outraged gasps from the Dursleys below them.

Once they were safely within Harry’s room, Ron set down his trunk with a scowl on his face. “Your relatives are gits,� he informed Harry.

Harry had to chuckle at that. “I’d think I would have already noticed that, Ron.�

Smiling slightly, Hermione suppressed a yawn. “I’m exhausted, are you?�

“Yeah,� Harry said darkly. “Tense family reunions with people who hate you are very tiring.�

Ron exchanged a worried glance with Hermione, but silently decided not to press the matter any further. Hermione whipped out her wand and gave it a wave; instantly, two sleeping bags materialized on the floor. She beamed, proud that her non verbal spell had worked efficiently.

“You’re going to bed, er –sleeping bag?� Ron asked incredulously. “It’s four o’clock in the bloody afternoon!�

“Of course not,� Hermione denied calmly. “I’m just getting ready.�

Ron stared at Hermione as if she were some sort of foreign beast. “You’re mental.�

Harry chuckled. At least despite everything that has happened in the past six years, one thing has remained exactly the same: Ron and Hermione still bickered like an old married couple.

His two friends joined Harry on his bed as they discussed carefree subjects. Ron made fun of Harry’s cousin and proceeded to imitate Dudley trying hide from them, puffing his face out in an attempt to make it as plump as Dudley’s. Ron didn’t even come close. Harry talked about Quidditch, and Ron suggested a fly around Privet Drive. Hermione immediately shot down that idea, pointing out that this neighborhood was filled with Muggles. “Do you want to get caught?� Hermione had asked exasperatedly.

Not for the first time, Harry was immensely glad that his two best friends would be joining him. He tried to put on a brave face, and he knew it was his responsibility to find the Horcruxes and defeat Voldemort. At the same time, Harry couldn’t help but feel apprehension and fear of what was to come. In reality, this burden has been on his shoulders ever since Voldemort murdered the parents he never knew; he just found out the fine print a year ago. If he succeeded, then he was fulfilling his purpose in the Wizarding World, the job that had been unknowingly assigned to him his whole life. If he failed . . . then history would remember him as the Boy-Who-Failed, the wannabe hero who had crushed their hopes and broke whatever promise he had supposedly made when entering their world.

But most of all, he was scared of who Harry Potter would be when the battle was over. Would he be dead, just another fallen name on a gravestone, or would he be alive, but not really living? Would he cease to be the Harry Potter those at Hogwarts knew him to be, and become some kind of monster like Voldemort, or would he decline into a shell, pushing everyone he knows and loves away from him?

Would this war, his duty, break him?

Harry wasn’t afraid of backing out at the last minute. He knew that he would finish this in honor of all those who fell in the fight against Voldemort. It was the aftermath that brought chills to his spine. After all, he had faced Voldemort before, and survived. But each time, Harry felt himself change, even if a little bit, his innocence stripped away little by little.

He didn’t want to merely be the ghost of Harry Potter when it was all said and done.

Ron and Hermione had always brought out the best in him, and were the ideal people to help Harry. Professor Dumbledore had said that Harry’s greatest strength was his ability to love; he sincerely hoped that would still be there after their quest was over. Harry smiled as he recalled their discussion about Ron and Hermione coming with him. He hadn’t wanted them to come; he didn’t want them to get hurt, and because of that fear, Harry had wanted to do this alone. Nevertheless, they didn’t leave him, and Harry was grateful for that.

Not surprisingly, the Dursleys hadn’t bothered them at all, and the sky outside was soon streaked with blue and orange. Finally, they retired to their beds –or in Ron and Hermione’s case, sleeping bags– and fell asleep.

Harry fell asleep easily, grateful for the ease of what had once been so difficult. Sighing in satisfaction, he allowed himself to become immersed in the satisfying quiet of slumber.

* * * * * * *

“Harry! Harry, wake up!�

Murmuring into his pillow, Harry just turned around and tried to block out the voice. He wasn’t ready to be awake yet. “Just a few more minutes, Hermione. . .� he muttered.

There was a slight pause before the female voice responded. “Who’s Hermione, your girlfriend?� she said teasingly.

Harry mentally rolled his eyes. Of course it was Hermione; who else could it be? It was too early in the morning and he was far too groggy to accurately place the voice, but logically, it must be his bushy haired friend. Definitely isn’t Aunt Petunia, Harry thought, smirking with amusement. And the girlfriend dig was definitely Ron’s idea –that must be why there was a pause.

“Really funny,� Harry said a little louder, making sure Ron could hear too. “Bloody hyenas, you lot are. Seriously, let me go back to sleep; don’t want to be tired when we go down and face the wrath of Dursley –�

“Dursley? You mean Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley?� Hermione asked, this time with a note of confusion.

Harry was starting to get a little annoyed. Joke’s over. “Yes, Hermione, those Dursleys.�

“Why do you keep on calling me ‘Hermione’?�

Rolling around to face her, Harry said, “Because you are –�

He stopped in mid-sentence. Harry’s tongue froze when he saw, not Hermione, but a girl with flaming red hair sitting on the edge of his bed. But what really shocked him was the fact that the girl looked so much like his mother; at least, judging from the photos he had of his parents. The only major difference that Harry could see were bright hazel eyes instead of the green he possessed.

Quickly, Harry groped behind him for his glasses and wand, only to find himself reaching in thin air.

“Looking for these?� the girl asked, holding both items in her hands. She had apparently gotten them from the bedside table . . . on the other side of where it normally was. Harry snatched both items, thrusting his glasses on and pointing his wand at the girl, who looked startled at Harry’s hostile behavior.

She didn’t look dangerous. But Harry had learned first hand not to judge a book by its cover –literally. The incident in his second year with the diary Horcrux was enough to make him wary of appearances.

“Harry, what’s wrong?� the girl asked, sounding panicked at the hard look in Harry’s eyes.

“Who’re you?� Harry growled, forgetting that he wasn’t wearing anything but boxers. He stood up so that he was in front of the girl, at an advantage in an offensive position. His thoughts wandered to Ron and Hermione. Where were they? And where was he? This was definitely not in Number Four, Privet Drive; the room was completely different! It was filled with wizard items, from Quidditch posters to a bookcase full of volumes on spells. Harry scanned the strange room with wild eyes, hoping to Merlin that his friends were okay –

The girl looked at his shirtless body with a wrinkled nose. “Put on a shirt or something, Harry! I don’t need to see all that. Hermione, maybe, but for me, that’s gross.�

“Answer the question!� Harry demanded sharply, making the girl jump.

She was starting to look a little concerned. “You really don’t know?�

Before Harry could utter another impatient demand, the door behind him swung open. Harry instinctively leaped to the side, allowing him to keep an eye on both the girl and the newcomer. But the person that strode in was the last person he’d expected. Harry had anticipated a Death Eater, Voldemort, Uncle Vernon, not –not –

Sirius Black walked in breezily, ignorant of the tension in the room. He spotted the red haired girl sitting on the bed and affectionately ruffled her hair, causing her to squeal in protest. “Uncle Sirius!� she whined indignantly, which only caused Sirius to laugh with aching familiarity.

Uncle Sirius? Part of Harry’s brain registered, but the majority of him was frozen stiff in shock, and the wind seemed to have been knocked out of him. Sir –Sirius was alive; he was here . . . it couldn’t be. The laugh was Sirius’s, the movements were Sirius’s, and the eyes were Sirius’s. Harry’s mind flashed back to that horrible day, and he felt helpless as his mind replayed the image of Sirius falling back and disappearing behind the veil, slowly and gradually.

His grip on his wand slackened, and it finally slipped through his fingers and onto the rug.

The sound turned Sirius’s attention onto Harry, whose eyes widened even more. His legs felt terribly unstable and wobbly; they were sure to collapse beneath him at any second. Oh, Merlin, what would Harry have given a year ago for something like this to happen, to see Sirius again, healthy, happy, and whole. He could feel his heart beating fast and hard against his chest, sure that the other occupants of the room could hear it clearly.

But it couldn’t be Sirius; it just couldn’t! Sirius was dead; Harry had spent so long trying to tell himself that. Why, when he had finally accepted that his beloved godfather was truly gone, would Sirius appear, when he would most likely disappear and break Harry’s heart again? He couldn’t bear it if he lost his godfather for the second time . . . especially on top of Dumbledore’s recent death by Snape’s traitorous hand. It was funny; Snape despised the Marauders, including Wormtail, but in the end, he committed the very crime that rat had done, and murdered the man had that trusted him, given him an undeserved second chance . . .

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Harry decided that this Sirius was a trick, a ploy to weaken his defenses. It was a low blow, therefore meaning it was something Voldemort might do.

“And here’s the birthday boy!� Sirius boomed as he enveloped Harry into a familiar and comforting hug. Harry told himself to push this false Sirius away, to resist the urge to cling to his godfather forever . . . but his resolve failed. He found himself welcoming Sirius’s strong arms and his familiar scent, which, not too surprisingly, always possessed a hint of dog.

Wait, ‘birthday boy’? Harry thought, But my birthday isn’t today . . .

“Better get changed, then, Harry,� Sirius said cheerfully, hitting Harry heartily on the back. “Everyone’s waiting downstairs.�

“Everyone?� Harry asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

However, the glare was missed on Sirius, who misinterpreted Harry’s question. “Oh, don’t worry, they’re not all here yet. We’re still waiting on Remus and your dad. I think he said something about getting some Firewhiskey for you –becoming a man and all, you know.� Sirius grinned at him proudly.

Harry felt his heart skip a beat at the mention of his father. Was this some kind of weird illusion where all the dead suddenly came to life again? But Harry didn’t know the red haired girl, and Remus isn’t dead –

This was just too overwhelming.

Sirius frowned when he noticed Harry’s wand on the floor. Gingerly picking it up, he handed the wand to Harry, who was still looking at Sirius in disbelief, as if he wasn’t sure if he was really there.

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,� Sirius chuckled.

Harry didn’t answer. He found his eyes averting towards the red head still sitting on his bed, expecting her to say something to “Uncle Sirius� about Harry’s hostile behavior earlier. But she merely stared determinedly back at Harry and said nothing.

“Well,� Sirius said, breaking Harry’s thoughts. “We’d better get out of here and let Harry get ready.� He turned around and began to walk out, pausing at the doorway. “You coming?� he asked the girl, who nodded and, with one last worried glance at Harry, closed the door behind her.

At first, Harry merely stood there in silence before sitting heavily on the bed, the springs groaning in protest. He laid back and stared at the ceiling for a minute, wondering where the hell was he and what was he doing there. It had to be some kind of trap, what else could it possibly be? But Sirius was just so . . . Sirius that it made Harry doubt that theory. Sighing, Harry decided that he’d play along for now, do a bit of digging about this place. He opened the closet and to his surprise found a lot of clothes. Just as he finished changing, something hit him.

. . . we’re still waiting for Remus and your dad. He’d noticed it before, but with the shock of seeing Sirius, Harry hadn’t really given it as much thought as he should have. Releasing the breath he hadn’t realize he was holding, Harry realized that when he went downstairs, he would see people that he didn’t know, save for some photos and stories, people that he hasn’t seen alive in sixteen years.

Downstairs in this strange house, Lily and James Potter would be waiting for the birthday boy.

Harry didn’t think he was ready to see his parents, especially if this was just an illusion the Death Eaters had orchestrated. Still, Harry wasn’t sure how they could have gotten Sirius’ personality so accurately. Even if they did have Bellatrix, he’d gotten the impression that they hadn’t known each other very well. Or maybe they did. He really hadn’t known much about Sirius’s time at Grimmauld Place, had he?

Carefully, Harry pocketed his wand, keeping it in easy reach. Whether or not the people downstairs looked like family, he would be ready and wary of them.

But what had confused him the most was the way the redhead had looked at him when she entered, almost as if there was something wrong with him and not the world. Still, why hadn’t she said anything when she had the chance?

He felt indifferent to his shaking hands. Bringing them up to eye level, he watched the twitching muscles, remembering how his friends had writhed in pain, agony he had brought upon them by bringing them there.

They should never have gone to the Department of Mysteries, for so many reasons.

He brought one hand to grip the other, trying to make the trembling stop, willing himself to calm down. After a few minutes he noticed the shaking cease and wiped his wet palms on the unfamiliar jeans.

Harry closed his eyes and dared to wish that Hermione and Ron would magically appear in front of him, so they could face this together, like they had planned. Here he was, by himself in this strange, yet somewhat familiar room, thrust into something he was not prepared to face –but isn’t that what he had wanted? They didn’t deserve to shoulder this burden, the one he was supposed to face alone.

To be honest, he would prefer to face Voldemort than walk down those hollow stairs, past the place where a cupboard should be and into a living room that probably would not contain the porcelain cat that always seemed to watch Harry with its frozen eyes wherever he went, reminding him of his freakishness.

Exhale.

He descended the steps slowly, freezing once when he heard Sirius’s bark-like laugh. Shaking himself out of his stupor, Harry cautiously approached what he assumed to be the living room, listening hungrily to the laughter and talk. Forgetting himself for a moment, he was content to lean against the wall and absorb the unfamiliar atmosphere, this rare joy that seemed so limited lately.

This shouldn’t be hard. It was just Sirius and his long dead parents, after all.

He exhaled in frustration. How the hell was he supposed to defeat Voldemort when he couldn’t even walk into a room? Granted, it was a room full of people who were supposed to be dead, but still –

“Harry, is that you out there?�

Frowning, he placed himself in the middle of the doorway, severely tempted to make a run for the unbarred door. “Er –I guess.�

A woman with familiar eyes looked up at him, smiling brightly. He knew this woman. How could he not, when he saw those same eyes every time he looked in the mirror?

“Mum.�

Lily Potter pointed to the armchair next to her. As if on autopilot, Harry’s legs carried him across a room of ghosts and into a chair that seemed to welcome his weight with a gentleness Aunt Petunia’s cushions never quite managed. He couldn’t help but stare, wondering why no one had ever mentioned that they shared more than green eyes.

He recognized the cheekbones, the tiny quirk of the right side of the lip, little things people normally did not connect. Perhaps Lily and James Potter were starting to become as fuzzy to everyone else as they’ve always been for Harry, just vague memories and pictures, frozen in time to forever dance amongst the leaves.

Lily startled him by running a perfectly solid hand through his hair affectionately. “You’re a lost cause,� she said with a wistful smile. “I could never for the life of me get your or your father’s hair flattened. Thank Merlin Violet didn’t inherit that particular gene.�

Violet?

Lily turned away from her son and towards Sirius and the redheaded girl. “Harriet! Come over here!�

The redheaded girl scowled and dragged her feet towards them. “Mum,� she whined, “don’t call me that!�

He blinked. Mum?

“Why not, Violet? It’s a perfectly nice name.�

Violet scoffed. “It’s disgusting, practically Harry’s name.�

“You know, your Dad and I came very close to having Harry and Harriet,� Lily added.

“Thank Merlin you didn’t,� Violet muttered. “It’d be horrible, we’d get teased so much, wouldn’t we Harry?�

“Uh –�

“Blink. You look like a toad.�

“No,� he snapped, remembering frilly bows and pink cardigans. “You don’t –�

“I would’ve killed James if he had put you two through that humiliation,� Sirius interrupted. “Almost like poor Dora; I still don’t know what Andromeda had been thinking.�

Harry tore his eyes away from his deceased godfather, for a moment forgetting that none of this was real. He couldn’t help but wonder if Sirius was Violet’s godfather too. He scrutinized his so-called “sister� carefully. She looked like she was a couple of years younger than him, fifteen maybe?

“Which is why we decided to go with ‘Violet’ instead of ‘Harriet’. Can’t break the Evans flower girl tradition, can we?�

However, her daughter’s response was interrupted by rustling outside of the room. Abandoning her argument, Violet raced to the door and ran into the arms of James Potter. “Daddy!�

He smiled and moved the big brown bag he was carrying out of the way, revealing a softly smiling Remus behind him.

“Got the firewhiskey!� James announced, holding the brown paper bag up high.

Harry should have expected this. Of course the illusion would not be complete without his father –or the Death Eater impersonating him. But he wasn’t ready, not at all. The man beaming at him had more severe, aristocratic features, but he still bore an immense resemblance to his son, except for the hazel eyes. Violet’s eyes.

What a cheap parallel.

James’s gaze fell on Harry, and he grinned mischievously. “Remember when you were five and decided to raid the alcohol cabinet?�

“N –no.�
These people had sacrificed their lives for him; he couldn’t believe they would be discussing firewhiskey misdemeanors at a time like this. But his father kept on talking as if he had not been interrupted. “Well, I suppose this is a much more appropriate time.�

Lily made a face. “This doesn’t give you permission to binge, mind. It sets a bad example for Violet, and for obvious reasons.�

Sirius winked at Harry from behind his mother, rolling his eyes.

Remus remained quiet as he leaned on the wall, smiling serenely and watching them bicker; his passivity was a strange comfort to Harry, anchoring him to something he knew. Still, wouldn’t they have attacked already if they were Death Eaters? Even the satisfaction of baiting Harry with the family he never had should not have lasted as long as this.

This must be a dream; what other explanation could there be?

Harry pinched himself, and was so surprised to feel the pain that he yelped out loud.

“What’s wrong, Harry?� Lily asked immediately.

“Nothing, Mum.�

He could have kicked himself. Was he really that easy to draw in?

Lost in the muddle of his thoughts, he didn’t catch Violet staring at him strangely, hazel eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“You’re in my armchair,� James said. “You’re too big now to sit on my lap, so up!�

“C’mon, James, it’s his birthday.� Sirius laughed. “It’s not as if he’s going to puke all over your precious armchair; the poor piece of furniture has already taken enough abuse from you. What else could Harry do?�

Remus chuckled, which turned into a fit of coughs when James turned around towards him indignantly, looking wounded. “You too, Remus? Merlin, the kid has you lot wrapped around his talented Quidditch skilled fingers.� He ruffled his son’s hair affectionately, frowning when Harry edged away from him. “What’s wrong?�

“Nothing.�

His father reached into the brown bag and pulled out a bottle of firewhiskey. “Drink up!� James said cheerfully, thrusting the bottle into Harry’s wary hands. They must be hoping to get him drunk and passed out, but wouldn’t a Stunner be simpler?

Harry scowled. There was no way that was going to happen. Hesitating with the bottle, he tried to think of a way to dance around it. “Er –how ‘bout cake first?�

“Your birthday,� James said, shrugging.

Violet frowned. “But you’ve been talking about this for months. Not that it’d matter,� she added, eyes twinkling mischievously, “since you’ve been sneaking firewhiskey from Hogsmeade with the rest of the Quidditch team!�

Harry stared. “No I didn’t.�

Still, Lily rounded on him, her voice sharp and underlined with anger. “Is this true?�

He could only shrug indifferently, but apparently it was the wrong thing to do.

“HARRY JAMES POTTER!� she roared, but Harry only sat there blinking at her, slightly stunned. It’s not like he wasn’t used to being yelled at; his aunt and uncle had eagerly dealt out punishments and lectures multiple times a week before he’d had the threat of a mass murderer godfather looming over their heads. However, having the source of the yelling be your deceased mother was an entirely different matter.

She snatched the firewhiskey out of his hands and thrust it back at her husband. “If it wasn’t your birthday, you’d be grounded,� she said, this time calmer. “But no firewhiskey, do you understand me?!�

“Yes,� Harry said meekly, distinctly reminded of Mrs. Weasley.

The three Marauders winced in sympathy for Harry. Each and every one of them had been on the receiving end of one of Lily Potter’s angry outbursts at least once before; every day for three years in James’s case.

He couldn’t think. They must be Death Eaters, but their actions weren’t making any sense. Despite his suspicion, Harry had to admit that they had done a good job. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have thought all of this was real.

They didn’t seem to pose an immediate threat to him; perhaps it’d be best to follow their lead and collect information while they feel safe, their deception undiscovered. Still, he felt a stab of guilt about this plan. He had to admit that there was some selfish motivation for this course of action, but he refused to let that deter him. It seemed like a good plan; it didn’t matter that it allowed him to see Sirius, alive and laughing, and Remus, younger and devoid of half the worry lines his real self had. Illusion or not, this seemed to be a much happier place.

Harry wondered if the Prophecy existed here.

Lily went back into the kitchen to get the cake, casting Sirius and her husband warning looks. “Don’t you dare give him any firewhiskey, not a sip!�

“I’ll help you,� Violet said quickly, following her mother to the kitchen.

After casting Violet a strange glance, Lily nodded and waved her into the kitchen, leaving Harry with the three Marauders.

Once they were safely in the kitchen, away from prying ears, Lily rounded on her daughter. “What’s going on?� she demanded. At Violet’s stunned look, Lily sighed. “Let’s not dance around it. What did you need to talk to me about?�

“It’s about Harry,� Violet said quietly. “I’m worried that he’s –er– forgetting things.�

“Forgetting what?�

“This morning, when I went to wake him up, he reached for his glasses and wand on the opposite side of where his bedside table is. But that’s not what I’m really worried about. Once he got a good look at me, he acted like he didn’t know me, and pointed his bloody wand at me!�

“He threatened you?�

Violet nodded. “He recognized Sirius though. Still acted weird around him. When he walked in, Harry looked as if he’d just had the biggest shock of his life, like he was seeing a ghost or something. Do you think he’s still having side effects from before, that Quidditch injury?�

Frowning, Lily turned to Violet. “Speaking of Quidditch, you aren’t drinking firewhiskey with the rest of the team, are you?�

“No!� Violet said quickly. “It’s only the six and seventh years on the team. Harry refused to let me go.�

Grunting in acceptance, Lily pulled out the cake. “Well, if he doesn’t recognize anybody, why hasn’t he said anything?�

“I think he recognized you, Dad, and Uncle Remus.�

Lily remembered the strange way Harry had looked at her, almost as if it had been the first time he’d ever seen her. The way he’d called her “Mum� –she should have seen it. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but let’s let him enjoy the birthday, and we’ll take him to St. Mungo’s for an examination tomorrow, okay? Don’t worry.�

“Harry!�

Loud, agonized screams echoed from the living room, followed by James’s frantic voice. Both women dashed back, cake forgotten, and arrived at a disturbing sight.

Harry was on the ground, writhing in pain and scratching at his forehead brutally, a hoarse, animalistic kind of scream Lily hadn’t heard since the old days, when Voldemort had overrun England the first time. Lily gaped at the sight, terrified when she saw the crimson blood trickling down Harry’s face, thick and startling. The three Marauders were desperately trying to hold him down, with James managing to wrench Harry’s hands away from his forehead, his son fighting him all the way. It took all of his strength to keep Harry from hurting himself any more, but after a few more seconds of struggle, Harry became still.

The rest of the adults cautiously approached a heavily breathing Harry, his face ghastly pale and dripping in sweat, stormy green eyes crazed and unfocused.

“Harry?� Violet squeaked.

“Give him some room,� Lily said, softly cupping Harry’s face in her hands. She could feel herself trembling; it took every bit of her Gryffindor courage to keep the terror out of her voice. But her son merely stared through her, as if she wasn’t there, and closed his eyes, his body suddenly becoming limp in James’s arms.

James put an arm under Harry’s legs and shakily got to his feet, lifting his thin son like a rag doll. “I’ll Apparate him to St. Mungo’s,� he said quietly, his eyes reflecting a fear that rarely graced the usually confident James Potter.

The rest of the group nodded in silent agreement, and with a faint pop, all except Violet and Lily were gone.

“Mum, what’ll happen to Harry?�

Lily didn’t look at her. “I don’t know, Vi.�

Doing the only thing she could, Lily grabbed her daughter’s hand, squeezed it reassuringly, and Apparated to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

When they arrived, they found Remus waiting for them. “They’ve taken him up to the Emergency Ward,� he said softly, turning around and leading the way silently. Remus’s face had been devoid of emotion, increasing the unease deeply settled in Lily’s chest. Remus was never one to express much emotion, but she knew him well enough to know when her friend was afraid, and smart enough to know she would be a fool not to be.

They found both James and Sirius waiting outside a ward, Sirius sitting down on a chair, eyes glazed, while James paced up and down the corridor, the rigidness of his posture contributing to his feet’s sharp pivots back and forth along the tiles.

“What’s wrong with him, Dad?� Violet asked, straining to keep the panic out of her voice. “Why was he clawing at his forehead like that?�

James sighed and finally stopped pacing. “I don’t know,� he said tiredly. “We just got here. A Healer is checking up on him now.�

Silence swept over them as they waited for what felt like an eternity in the ward, the halls eerily silent and foreboding.

“Harry’s going to be fine,� Sirius muttered, squeezing his niece’s arm. “He’s hit enough goal posts and survived too many Bludgers to be not okay now.�

The aged door creaked open, causing them to spring up from their chairs, attempting to read the expression on the Healer’s impassive face.

“He’s stable and resting peacefully now,� the Healer said. “We’re not sure exactly how it happened, but it seemed like something overloaded his brain to the point of agony or caused nightmare-like delusions that –�

James scowled. “In other words, you have no idea what’s happened to him.�

“Can we see him?� Sirius asked.

The Healer nodded. “Feel free, but he won’t wake up for a while. I’ll be back later to check up on him.�

However, the moment the Healer’s echoing footsteps faded around the corner, an intern came dashing through the door. “Is there a James Potter here?�

“That’s me. What is it?�

“There’s an owl outside with a note for you from the Ministry; it looks pretty important,� the intern said breathlessly. “Owls aren’t allowed inside the wards so you’ll have to go out there. It won’t let me remove the note.�

James nodded. With one last worried look behind him, he followed the intern.

Without another word, those remaining walked into the ward, either sitting or kneeling beside Harry. Lily put her hand in his and gave it a squeeze, still shocked from seeing her son convulsing on the floor so fiercely, so terribly. Shuddering, she hoped that it was a one time incident –this can’t happen again.

Harry stirred, turning his head to the other side, near Sirius, whose eyes widened as he saw Harry’s eyes open slightly. The normally clear green was cloudy and unfocused, in a fog of nightmares and memories.

“S –Sirius?�

“Yeah, Harry, it’s me,� Sirius said gently. Violet made a move to join Sirius, but Lily stopped her with a shake of her head.

Harry laughed weakly, eyes blurred with tears. “No, it can’t be you –you’re dead. Am I dead? Did –did Voldemort get me?�

The other occupants of the room exchanged bewildered glances at each other, their minds swimming with questions and worries. Violet caught her mother’s eye, reminding her of their unfinished conversation in the kitchen.

“No, Harry, I’m right here; I’m fine.�

“B –but I saw you! I saw –I saw you fall through the veil…� Harry murmured softly.

“Veil? What veil?�

But before he could question Harry further, Harry’s eyes closed and he fell back into unconsciousness.

“Padfoot?� Remus said. “What’d he say?�

Sirius sighed. “I don’t know. Harry said that he saw me fall through some veil, but that doesn’t make any sense. Last time I encountered a dangerous piece of cloth was when my mother threatened to strangle me with the curtains.�

Just then, James returned, a piece of parchment clutched in his weary hands.

“What’d the Ministry want, James?� Lily asked calmly. No need to alarm James yet with the strange things Harry had just said

“Death Eater attack, about twenty minutes ago. They want all Aurors to go in and help.� He hesitated, unwilling to deliver the worst news. “They say that Voldemort is there.�

Involuntary shudders chilled the room as the adults caught each other’s eyes and avoided Violet’s. Both Lily and Sirius got up reluctantly; but as Aurors and members of the Order of the Phoenix, they had a duty to try and help.

Lily cast a worried look back at Harry, then met Remus’s eyes.

“Don’t worry, Lily, I won’t let anything happen to Harry or Violet,� Remus assured her. “I’ll be right here. Can you make my excuses?� He couldn’t leave them by themselves.

“Let’s check up with the Order first,� Sirius suggested.

Nodding, the three Aurors Apparated to Number 12 Grimmauld Place with a loud pop.

Frowning, Remus turned back to Harry, pondering the strange timing of Voldemort’s attack and Harry’s spasm. But he merely shrugged it off, Remus tried hard to not think about it. It was preposterous, really; it was just a coincidence –or so the werewolf tried to convince himself. Unfortunately, he could not shake that ominous feeling, and was left more worried than ever.

Harry was dreaming. Or had he always been dreaming? He couldn’t tell; in the feverish haze of his mind, he couldn’t tell top from bottom, right to left. He didn’t know how long it’d been, but it felt like an eternity. All he could hear and feel was another’s pain, accompanied by Voldemort’s sadistic delight, an emotion that violated his bones. If he could think clearly, he might have wondered why he wasn’t just seeing this through Voldemort’s eyes like he normally did.

But it didn’t really matter at the moment. His current concern was the fact that he was trapped in a man’s mind, experiencing his agony, and his corporeal body unable to scream along with him.

“Scream.�

“Please –I’ll do anything –�

“Crucio.�

Harry collapsed onto the ground, gritting his teeth together as invisible knives cut through his skin, his blood, his bones. Mind-numbing pain seized his nerves as they cried out in protest, liquid fire igniting his entire body.

Viciously, he bit onto his lip, holding back the scream that was clawing its way out of his throat. He was surprised to be able to taste the bitter, sour blood in his mouth through the pain. His eyes watered and tears flowed freely as the last shred of his self restraint and sanity began to fade away from his fingers, grasping desperately at the pavement.

At last, he could hold it in no longer. A screeching, almost inhuman sound burst out of his throat until he had screamed his throat raw. A part of him registered the curse being lifted, but the pain was so much, he needed to scream, needed to have himself heard in the dark silence of the night.

Fingers twitching, he reached for his wife’s golden locks, her roots tinted red.

Unable to hear Voldemort’s next words, his vision blaring red all around him, he didn’t have time to anticipate the flash of brilliant green light before he found himself back in the haze.

Groggily, Harry tried to summon the strength to rise, to get away from the horrors he had just witnessed. Unfortunately, his body wasn’t listening to him, only managing to slowly open an emerald eye. There, he found something impossible –Sirius Black, his godfather, staring worriedly back at him.

I must be dead. His thoughts were hard to grasp, and he found himself forgetting and remembering inconsistently.

He’d always heard stories about heaven, how angels were supposed to greet the newly dead at the gates to ease the transition. It suddenly made sense; that’s what Sirius was, why he –but now his godfather was talking, saying something about him being alive. Harry almost choked on his laughter, the unbelievable lengths Sirius went to comfort him. Feeling himself falling into darkness again, Harry informed him of the impossibility of Sirius’s words, how he had seen him falling through the veil.

Why did he look so confused?

Harry swiftly glided around the corpses scattered at his feet, indifferent to the Blood Traitors and Death Eaters lying there. Robes billowing behind him with eerie grace, he knew he emulated of power and regality.

He loved it, basking in the sweet stench of death.

With his exceptional sense of smell, he could detect everything from the crisp night air to the burnt bundle of flesh sprawled beneath his feet. He smiled twistedly, still able to feel tingles of pleasure from his latest kill. The rush he always experienced during a slaughter or a particularly enjoyable session was unrivaled by anything. Inhaling the scent of fresh blood, he reveled in it.

“How weak.�

Scanning the area coolly, he lazily directed his wand behind him, sneering, “Avada Kedavra,� and smirking in satisfaction when he hard the muffled thump of a corpse falling to the ground.

At least Dumbledore’s lot and the Ministry have something in common, he thought in disdain, laughing at the fool trying to sneak behind him. He himself may be a Dark Wizard, but at least he had the courage to look both enemies and fear in the face.

Eyes searching the seemingly forlorn street, he was pleased to see another Dark Mark joining the myriad others floating forebodingly in the sky.

He heard a pop, and was disgusted to see known members of the elite Order of the Phoenix Apparate in front of him. He smirked.

They were no threat, and they knew it; their numbers have declined severely since they last met.

Glancing up at a sky alit with ghostly Dark Marks, he reached up beneath the left sleeve of his robes and touched the original. Seconds later, his Death Eaters answered his call.

He noticed that three people, adorned in Auror robes, were slightly ahead of the others, leading the group. He instantly recognized two of them with a knowing smile.

“Ah. The Potters.�

* * *

Remus and Violet watched Harry with tired eyes. Despite the comatose boy’s complete stillness before, his eyelids had briefly started twitching violently as his facial features contorted into an expression Violet really didn’t want to know the cause of.

“Is Harry going to die?� Violet asked softly.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine.�

“Are you sure?�

“No.�

“He can’t die. Who’s going to have pillow fights with me? Who’s going to be annoyingly protective? Who’s –�

“Violet.�

“Sorry, Uncle Remus.�

Remus smiled reassuringly. “He’s strong, Vi, like your mum and dad. He’ll make it.�

Despite himself, even his own words couldn’t placate his worries and, judging from Violet’s expression, hers either. Remus closed his eyes, suddenly reminded of how death seemed to constantly surround them in these times. Every happy interval seemed to be broken by the crushed faces of someone receiving news of lost loved ones –but Harry won’t die. He has to believe that, because he’s only seventeen, full of promise and with so much ahead of him. He wanted so badly for this war to be won so that the next generation doesn’t have to continue their fight.

Too many lives have been consumed by this war, and he can’t imagine Harry’s generation only knowing fighting, death, and survival. He just can’t. He won’t. He knows too much about suffering to wish that upon anybody.

Violet looked terrible. He knew how important laughter is, and she usually supplied it, but her solemn, blank eyes reminded Remus that no one is left unscarred.

Then again, Remus thought sadly, this is an extreme occasion. She was holding it together extremely well for a girl whose parents had just left on a dangerous mission, leaving her to watch her brother writhe from an unseen force, unsure if he’ll pull out of it completely intact.

It wasn’t fair. Her close friend’s entire family had been brutally murdered by Death Eaters a mere couple of weeks ago, and now this?

Every time someone had asked Violet how she was, she would reply with a huge grin that she was perfectly fine, unfazed by the destruction that plagued their world. But that grin never reached her sad, grave hazel eyes, leaving her parents worried that she would attempt something regretfully brash and stupid.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, and she smiled faintly at him in gratitude, struggling to keep her tears from falling.

Remus, unfortunately, had no comfort but the hope that his nephew would wake up soon.

* * *

James, Lily, Sirius, and many other members of the Order of the Phoenix Apparated to the desolate, destroyed street, trying unsuccessfully to resist the chills of fear running down their spines at the sight of Voldemort, his piercing, inhuman red eyes bright with malice.

As James scanned the area, his heart registered with a pang the numerous unmoving corpses around him, mostly Aurors. He recognized many of them, people he’d worked, trained, joked with. It made him sick to his stomach, but it always did. He turned his attention back to this abomination, hating that he’d made loss such a routine.

“Ah, the Potters.�

James unconsciously gripped Lily’s hand tighter, recalling that moment sixteen years ago, as they learned that either Harry or Neville would have to face a hard destiny. He would always be eternally grateful that Voldemort hadn’t chosen Harry, and feel inexcusably selfish for it, but the Potters annually visited the Longbottoms’ graves even after all this time. They had sacrificed their lives for their son, just as James and Lily would have been prepared to do if Harry had been marked.

He felt such empathy for Neville; from what Harry told him, the Boy-Who-Lived didn’t have many friends at Hogwarts, and was detached from everyone else. Harry had grown up knowing that it could have been him bearing the scar, and was encouraged by his parents to make a point to greet Neville and talk to him. Harry had definitely made an effort, but according to him, Neville had difficulty opening up, and barely spoke to Harry when he did.

Now, standing in front of him, was the monster that had murdered Frank and Alice, leaving Neville an orphan. James was filled with rage; he gripped Lily’s hand tighter. There was nothing more he’d like to do than make sure Voldemort died a very agonizing death.

Unfortunately, that’s not going to be up to me. It’s Neville’s burden.

It didn’t seem fair that Neville had to go through so much so young, and lose what should matter to him most before he had it. And to imagine a seventeen-year-old having to face Voldemort alone . . . James didn’t know what he’d do if that had been Harry’s fate. He loved his family more than anything, and would not have been able to stand it if anything happened to them.

That’s why he now stood at the front of the pack defying Voldemort’s reign of terror. That’s why he brushed aside accusations of being foolish and reckless Gryffindors, knowing that it was what he wanted to do, that it was necessary. Seeing all he had, growing up just as Voldemort’s power expanded made running away impossible. He ran his fingers over the smooth wood of his wand, reassured by the surge of magic underneath his fingertips.

As expected, a swarm of Death Eaters Apparated around their master, masked and prepared for a fight.

“Ready, Prongs?� Sirius muttered from the corner of his mouth, his grey eyes fixated on a Death Eater standing next to Voldemort. James’s eyes followed Sirius’s gaze and recognized the distinct, psychotic confidence of Bellatrix Lestrange.

“Yeah.�

He didn’t know who cast the first spell, but flashes of red temporarily blindsided James before he recovered enough to shout “Protego,� and block an incoming curse. A flurry of shouts, cries, and sparks filled the air, igniting a desperate struggle for survival.

Losing all apprehension in the adrenaline of the battle, James gave himself over to instinct, hexing the despicable Death Eaters faster than his brain could register. His honed Quidditch and Auror reflexes helped him dodge spells coming from various sides, but he was too busy to intercept the hex that hit him squarely in the chest.

He staggered backwards, clutching his chest and struggling with the searing pain the curse had inflicted, wheezing heavily. He managed to collect himself and raise his wand, but found himself face to face with Voldemort. Hatred beyond anything he’d ever felt for anyone, even Snivellus, coursed through his veins at the sight of the monster who’d taken so much. In that moment, he’d turned a deaf ear to the screams of agony suffocating the air and a blind eye to Sirius’s vicious duel with Bellatrix nearby.

All he could see was that pallid, sunken face sneering at him.

“Crucio!�

James dodged just in time as a Death Eater caught the receiving end of his master’s Unforgivable. James grimaced and gratefully tore his eyes off the grisly sight. “Expelliarmus!�

Voldemort lazily blocked the spell.

James spotted Lily’s unmistakable red hair dueling with two Death Eaters at once, and Sirius and Bellatrix still circling each other with no indication of either tiring or weakening. But he could also see the majority of the Order taking some hard hits; some were being triple teamed and cornered by the Death Eaters, who, possessed the upper hand. And odds,, he realized. James could see it was nearly hopeless; if this carried on any longer, there wouldn’t be anyone left to file a bloody report.

He got to his feet and launched a distracting jinx at Voldemort, who was caught slightly off guard due to his attention on knocking an attacking Order member into the far wall. But with a dismissive wave of his wand, the counter-jinx had rid him of the effects, and focused his attention on James again. James held his wand up as he bellowed various curses at the wizard while carefully blocking or dodging Voldemort’s own, knowing well that to be hit with one moment of staggering weakness would result in his death.

An image of Harry, lying in the hospital with Violet beside him, clutching her brother’s hand in worry, and Lily, her beautiful green eyes gazing at him with all the love in the world, filled his vision, and James fought back more determinedly than ever.

But the Order was starting to lose their grip on the battle, and the Death Eaters were well on their way to coming out on top. Finally, Moody’s harsh, echoing voice filled the night–

“RETREAT! APPARATE OUT!�

James, exhausted, paused to register Moody’s words, giving Voldemort an opening.

“Crucio.�

His insides were on fire. The pain seemed to continue for hours until it very suddenly came to a stop. James rolled over on his stomach, sweaty and sore. Summoning the strength he had left, he lifted his head to see a blurry Voldemort staggering off to the side. His eyes focused, and James saw his fellow Auror, Dawlish, lying on the ground directly behind where Voldemort had just been standing, his wand out. He panted heavily, ignoring the blood flowing freely from a nasty head wound. James threw him a grateful look and struggled to his feet, one eye warily on Voldemort.

Quickly, he scanned the area for Sirius and Lily. Lily had spotted him and was running over, throwing occasional curses over her shoulder at her pursuers. Sirius was still fighting with Bellatrix, and James was not going to leave without him.

“Stu –� James began, his wand held up shakily, but was too worn out to continue.

Fortunately, Lily understood what he was trying to do and trained her wand carefully on Bellatrix, shouting, “Stupefy!� The hex reached its mark, and Bellatrix fell to the ground stiffly. Sirius looked surprised and followed in the direction of where the spell had come from. He saw Lily’s frantic gestures for him to Apparate out, but he shook his head, wand trained on his unmoving cousin.

“Padfoot, get out!� James roared, his voice cracking. Sirius glared reluctantly at Bellatrix’s prone form, but disappeared with a pop.

“Let’s go,� Lily said urgently, immobilizing another Death Eater coming at them. “I think everyone else has already retreated –�

“Dawlish,� James said weakly, noticing that he hadn’t left yet.

Unfortunately, Voldemort had noticed this as well, and, infuriated at being attacked from behind and temporarily forgetting the Potters, turned to face the Auror. “Avada Kedavra,� he hissed, eyes flashing, and the Auror’s raised head hit the floor with a sickening thump, his hollow, blank eyes staring at the Potters.

James, knowing that Dawlish’s death would only buy them a few seconds, swiftly seized Lily’s arm and Apparated, taking them away from that nightmare.

A second later, they arrived at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, where nothing short of utter chaos was ensuing. People were running left and right, tending to the wounded or inspecting injuries. Healing Potions and bandages flew through the air, the seriously wounded lying on stretchers to be carried up to one of the bedrooms upstairs for further treatment. Several others, only sustaining minor injuries, stood in solemn silence to wait their turn. A young, miserable looking wizard was talking to various people, a charmed quill scratching on a piece of parchment in midair beside him. James recognized as the wizard responsible of keeping track of who had made it back, who was greatly injured and –James closed his eyes– who hadn’t made it.

Judging from the mournful expression on his face, there had been many casualties or seriously wounded. Dawlish’s empty, dead eyes filled James’s vision, and everything caught up to him. His knees felt weak, and he began to feel the after effects of both the Unforgivable and the strain from the battle. That’s what I get for dueling the most feared wizard alive, he thought humorlessly.

“James!� Lily wrapped her husband’s arm around her shoulder, alarmed when she’d felt him slump slightly beside her. “We need to get you to a Medi-Witch.�

“No, no –there are others worse off,� James said, shaking his head ruefully. “I just need to sit down, that’s all –"

“PRONGS!�

The Potters looked up to see a relieved Sirius striding towards them, completely ignoring the protesting Medi-Witch attending to his Bellatrix-inflicted wounds.

“Where the bloody hell have you two been?� Sirius demanded loudly. “I Apparated here and didn’t see either of you for a minutes! I thought Voldemort had –had done you in!�

“Calm down, Sirius,� Lily snapped, sensing that her husband’s impending collapse. “We need to let James sit down somewhere.�

Sirius sighed and grabbed onto both of them, Apparating them to an empty guest room upstairs. Together, he and Lily placed James onto one of the beds and sat down beside him. Although James wanted nothing more than to lie there and fall asleep, he resisted it and pulled himself up into a sitting position.

“You know you just Apparated out on a very put off Medi-Witch, right?� James asked, attempting to smile weakly.

Lily sent him an incredulous glare.

Sirius’s lips twitched, but he didn’t respond, instead asking, “What took you two so long? I almost Apparated back to get you.�

James and Lily exchanged pained glances, and Lily sighed, accepting the pleading look in her husband’s eyes. “Dawlish was still there, and before we could take him with us, Voldemort –Voldemort murdered him,� she said quietly. Saying it out loud clarified it, that Dawlish really was dead.

Sirius cast his eyes downwards. He had known Dawlish pretty well; he was a decent person, and a damn good Auror.

“Oh bloody hell,� Sirius said suddenly, realization dawning on him. “What are we supposed to tell his wife and kids?�

“Gina’s an Order member too. Someone has to tell her,� Lily said quietly, horrified at the thought of breaking the news to her. How were you supposed to tell someone that their husband was dead?

“I’ll do it.�

Both Sirius and Lily turned around to face James, who had a tired, resigned expression on his face.

“You don’t have to,� Lily said softly. “We can just tell that bloke downstairs with the list and he can tell her –�

But James cut her off fiercely, “No! No,� he repeated. “It’s my fault he died; I’ll tell her.�

“How’s it your fault, mate?�

James didn’t answer for a moment, instead choosing to stare determinedly up at the ceiling. “I let myself get distracted,� he explained, his shoulders rigid. “Dawlish cursed Voldemort just as he was about to –you know. And Dawlish paid the price. I –I have to be the one to tell her. I owe him.�

For a while, nobody broke the silence that had settled between the three Aurors. Finally, James made a waving motion at Sirius, indicating that he should move out of the way.

“Where’re you going Prongs?�

James didn’t turn around. “To break the news.�

* * *

A few hours later, three extremely tired Aurors Apparated into St. Mungo’s lobby, hoping to hear some good news about Harry’s condition. James hadn’t said much after leaving to speak with Dawlish’s wife, and Sirius and Lily hadn’t pushed the subject. They’ve all seen co-workers, friends, and acquaintances die in this war, but this particular death seemed to be taking a toll on James.

Lily was worried about him. He was blaming himself when it wasn’t his fault, not truly. Dawlish had made a brave choice to help him, and died for it, but James shouldn’t take the burden of his death on his shoulders. Merlin knows they already had enough to worry about. Voldemort had killed him –and it was his fault alone. Lily scowled. He’d targeted her son and murdered two of her good friends, leaving their son parentless and carrying the weight of the prophecy on his small shoulders.

Shaking her head to clear her head, they walked into Harry’s ward. At first, she could only take in the lack of worry lines on Remus’s face, but a bright smile lit her face when she saw Harry sitting up and awake on the hospital bed, his black hair disheveled beyond repair.

“Harry!� She barely noticed the his surprise as she kissed his forehead eagerly. “I was so worried!�

“When’d he wake up?� James asked Remus quietly.

“A couple hours ago, but we only just got here. Violet was hungry, so we went out to grab something to eat.� Remus examined his friend carefully. James looked as if he’d gone through hell and back; there was something about James’s defeated air that concerned him greatly. Remus made a mental note to ask Sirius what had happened during the Death Eater raid.

Violet waited until her mother had stopped smothering Harry to ask her question. “Mum, are you okay? What happened?�

Lily sighed and let go of Harry, now running her hand through his hair, tousling it further. “There was a big fight; that’s all you need to know.�

Her daughter frowned, frustrated at the lack of information but didn’t press the matter. She knew it had been bad, judging from the scorch marks on her mum’s robes and the violent cuts on Uncle Sirius’s face. Violet had expected her dad to run over the instant he saw Harry; instead, he hung back with the other two Marauders, unusually subdued.

It must have been a really horrible fight.

“You’re all right then, Harry?� Lily asked, still trailing her fingers lightly on his hairline.

“What? Ye –yeah, I’m all right.�

But he wasn’t. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was right now, but it sure as hell wasn’t “all right.� Having spent a good chunk of the day in a coma, where his thoughts had been hazy and dream-like, he had expected to wake up with a worried Ron and Hermione hovering over him, debating whether or not they should whack him with a stick in an attempt to wake him up.

Harry frowned; he had thought the connection would’ve ended when the battle was over, but it seemed that Voldemort's elated happiness could last for quite a long time, especially when he went for some stress relieving Muggle hunting afterwards, knowing the Aurors and Order were too preoccupied tending to their wounds to even attempt to stop him.

Harry glanced over at his father and felt a guilty knot in his stomach. Of course, he hadn’t been the one to perform the Unforgivable on his dad, but he had seen it all through Voldemort’s eyes, and had, in a way, been there when it had happened. He knew it was illogical, but he had felt Voldemort’s pleasure as he tortured his dad, and –he couldn’t even think about it anymore. Instead, his thoughts wandered to when he’d actually woken up from the coma.

It had really hit him in that moment, as he jolted up from his laying down position, and took in his surroundings –Remus sleeping on a chair next to his bed, and a familiar red haired girl he had at first mistaken for Ginny (Ginny . . . Merlin do I miss her, Harry thought with a pang) sitting on his other side, that this really wasn’t a dream. He really was stuck in this world.

Well, either that, or he was going clinically insane.

Harry started to panic. His parents were alive, alive, and he had a sister! He frowned; he was –well, he didn’t really know how he felt, but he wasn’t reacting to his parents as strongly as he had when Sirius had waltzed through the door like nothing had changed, like he hadn’t died. He met his mother’s concerned gaze.

He didn’t know them. He supposed he unconditionally loved them, or at least their memories, he didn’t love them like he loved Sirius.

To him, Sirius was real, more than a faint memory or a story he had heard. Honestly, the only emotion that registered with him was shock and wonder that they were alive, but those feelings were nothing compared to the heartbreak of seeing Sirius again.

Nevertheless, it was overwhelming to see his parents, dead of seventeen years, in front of his very eyes. It was uncomfortable yet comforting to feel his mother’s hand stroking his hair, not caring that she was making it messier. Harry was torn between wanting to hold on to them and never let go, a privilege he had never experienced, and running away as fast as he could.

He was scared. How was he supposed to act around them? He had no idea what they were like, what they did for a living. The only sure fact was that they were still in the Order, like they had been before they’d died. Looking at them now, tangible and skin –Harry could see the strong resemblance strangers were always reminding him about. His father’s face, his mother’s eyes –he saw reflections of them in the mirror every day.

Unsure of what exactly he was feeling right now –relieved, worried, disbelieving, elated, sad, suspicious, whatever– Harry struggled to control his emotions, and the understandable impulse to run over and hug Sirius in an unmanly way without caring at all. He was alive, and that’s all that matters.

Instead, he turned his attention to his still throbbing forehead, rubbing it gently. Frowning, Harry suddenly realized that hid scar seemed to be absent from his forehead –but no. It couldn’t be; nothing could ever take that curse scar away. He must have merely missed it. Carefully, Harry trailed his finger along his forehead, making sure to cover every single place, and failed to find it.

“The scar,� Harry murmured.

“Scar? What scar?� Lily asked as she looked Harry over. Then, looking satisfied, she turned back to her son. “There’s no scar here. A few cuts, but no scar, I think.�

“Er –can I get a mirror?� He needed to see for himself that it wasn’t there.

A scoff came from his other side. Harry turned around and saw his sister looking incredulous. “You just wake up from a coma, and the first thing you ask for is a mirror? Way to be vain, Harry.�

“Violet!� Lily snapped, shooting her daughter a stern look. She took her wand out and, with a wave, conjured up a mirror, handing it over to him.

Harry studied his own reflection carefully, eyes wide. Was it really gone? But if it was, how could he have seen those events through Voldemort’s mind? He was connected to him because of the scar; it didn’t make any sense at all.

“Ah, good, you’re here.�

“How long before we can take him home?� James asked quietly.

The Healer sighed. “We can’t seem to figure out what’s wrong with him, but we’d like to keep him a little bit longer for further examination. Other than that, there’s no reason to keep him here –�

Lily turned to James. “What do you think, James?�

Instead of answering, James focused his attention on Harry, whose eyes were pleading with him not to leave him at St. Mungo’s. Feeling resigned, James answered, “We’ll take him home.�

The Healer frowned somewhat disapprovingly, but didn’t say anything else. “All right, but if anything like this happens again, take him straight here. If you’ll come and sign the release forms, he can be discharged.�

Harry sighed in relief. He really hadn’t been looking forward to staying in St. Mungo’s any longer. Frequent visits to Hogwarts’ hospital wing hadn’t made him very fond of white, sterile environments. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if going “home� was any better.

Well, we’ll just have to see what happens.

Rays of sunlight filtered through the window of Harry Potter’s room as he began to stir. Groggily, he opened his eyes, blinking fiercely as he adjusted to the morning light. Not bothering to put on his glasses, Harry laid there in that unfamiliar bed, staring up at the white ceiling, smiling in amusement when he saw a somewhat blurry wizard poster of England’s national Quidditch team.

Bludgers flew about, thanks to the Beaters, and the Seeker executed an impressive loop to avoid one before speeding off to chase the Snitch again. Chasers passed the ball to each other and took turns throwing the Quaffle into the goal hoops, which the Goalkeeper adamantly attempted to save.

Harry watched the live action poster for a couple of minutes before directing his thoughts back to his dilemma. Last night, everything had been muddled and confusing, leaving his thoughts a jumble of theories and suspicions. The only thing he knows for sure is that he doesn’t have the liberty of showing weakness, especially in this unfamiliar environment.

Something has to be done; he needs answers, not guesses and speculation. Sirius and Remus were definitely out –they were all a part of this. But who could he trust? Closing his eyes in frustration, Harry cast his mind around, trying hard to think of some solution to all of this. Finally, he found himself staring in his mind’s eye at a pair of twinkling blue eyes behind half moon spectacles.

Dumbledore. But the bubble of hope immediately burst when Harry remembered that the Headmaster was dead.

But –if his parents and Sirius were alive, surely Dumbledore would be as well? It’d be the best place to start; Dumbledore was an incorruptible man, and if he can’t help Harry, nobody can –

Ron and Hermione. But he wasn’t sure where they were in all this. Harry knew he had to get in contact with them, see for himself whether or not they were his Ron and Hermione, and not the Ron and Hermione of this place.

Instinctively, Harry pushed on his glasses and made a move towards where Hedwig would normally reside. When it became clear that there was no cage or snowy white owl, Harry realized that this must be some sort of ripple effect. Hagrid had gotten him Hedwig –he supposed he would have gone school shopping with his parents instead of the Hogwarts gamekeeper.

He sighed. Looks like he’ll have to contact his friends through another way –

Harry turned around sharply, grabbed his wand from the bedside table, and pointed it threateningly at the grey owl stationed at the corner of the room, who had hooted loudly to get Harry’s attention. Cautiously, wand still pointing at the bird, Harry moved towards what was apparently his owl, surprised that he hadn't noticed it yesterday. But then, he had been more concerned about the fact that Sirius and his parents were alive than what had been in his room.

“Er . . . I’ve got a message for you to deliver,� Harry informed the owl as it happily perched itself on his arm, leaving his right hand free to write. He figured that Hermione would probably be in France or somewhere else on vacation right now, so Ron would be the better bet if he wanted a quick answer.

Ron,

I’ve got to talk to you. Reply back quickly.

Harry

He scanned his brief note and deemed it satisfactory. If this was the Ron he knew, then he had a plan. If not –well, he was sure that it wouldn’t be enough to make him suspicious or anything. He hoped. After rolling the little scrap of paper up, he placed it between the grey owl’s raised talon. “Can you take this to Ron Weasley for me?� The owl hooted and flew up into the air, though it paused in front of the window.

“Oh, sorry,� Harry apologized, opening the window for it. He paused for a moment to watch it glide through the sky, hoping that it’d reach its destination and bring back an optimistic note.

Harry glanced at the clock, noting the early hour. Maybe, with luck, the rest of the house’s inhabitants –he tried not to think of them as family– would be asleep for a few more hours. His resolve strong, he took the time to change before searching every drawer, nook and cranny of his room for the Marauder’s Map.

After a few minutes of incessant, frustrating searching, Harry gave up. He even tried to summon it, but it was nowhere to be found. Dumbledore was most likely at Hogwarts, pacing in his office, taking care of Order business or finding the Horcruxes. Like I should be doing, Harry reminded himself. But not before I figure out what the bloody hell’s going on. The Marauder’s Map would let him know for sure if Dumbledore was at Hogwarts –he’d even take McGonagall. At least she’d be able to give information on the Headmaster’s whereabouts.

Still, even if Harry had seen Dumbledore on the map, he’d still need a way to get into Hogwarts. He didn’t have his Apparating license yet, but he’d managed it at the cave –

He shook the image of the Headmaster’s pain out of his head. That didn’t happen here.

Suddenly panicking, Harry dove his hand into his jeans pocket, searching for what he should’ve known wouldn’t be there. After all, he’s never worn these clothes before. A surge of anger forced him to clench his fists, attempting to reel in his emotions. He laughed bitterly. Wasn’t that what Snape had told him, before he fled like the traitorous, greasy bat –

Harry sighed. Really, he shouldn’t be angry that he had lost the false Horcrux.

But it was a constant reminder of the sacrifices people have made for him.

“Damn it!� He reserved the urge to kick something for the real bad guys, not some poor desk. No; he’d save it for Voldemort, Bellatrix, and Snape.

Harry focused his energies again on finding a way to get into Hogwarts. His mind drifted back to the Apparation idea, but Hermione’s scolding voice in the back of his mind rose to the surface: No, Harry, I’ve told you a million times! Hogwarts, A History specifically says that nobody can Apparate in or out of Hogwarts!

Merlin could he use Hermione now.

But Hermione isn’t here. He could Apparate outside of Hogwarts and find his way in –but how? He couldn’t fly in; he’d only seen the wards down when he and Dumbledore had returned to Hogwarts on broomstick. If he simply knocked or yelled at someone to open the gates, he wasn’t sure anyone would hear him in the vast property.

Sending a letter would take too long, and who knows how long it’ll take Dumbledore to respond? Harry probably wasn’t on his high priority list now that he was no longer the Boy-Who-Lived or The Chosen One. He silently cursed the Daily Prophet and all of the blind leaders of the Ministry, especially the Minister of Magic. It still made his blood boil that they had the nerve, after Dumbledore’s death and treating them both like crap, to ask him to be their poster boy, to support the bumbling, misguided Ministry. Expression contorting in disgust as he thought about the labels he had detested, he wondered wistfully what it’d be like to just be Harry.

He quickly shook those thoughts out of his head, marveling at how off track he could get. After a few more minutes of deliberating, there was really only one thing that would work: floo powder.

The Potters must have floo powder somewhere; with two children unable to Apparate, they had to find a way to get places if they decided against using Side-Along Apparation or had to go somewhere that blocked it, like Hogwarts.

Harry carefully placed his wand in his back jeans pocket, pausing as he remembered Mad Eye Moody’s harsh, panicked words two years ago: Don’t put your wand there boy! What if it ignited? Better wizards than you have lost buttocks, you know!

A smile tugged at Harry’s lips at that memory. Constant Vigilance!

Nevertheless, he gingerly took his wand out of his back pocket and into the pocket on his brilliantly red sweatshirt. He couldn’t lose any buttocks or body parts there. Harry opened the door, fully intent on tip toeing past the sleeping Potters –

Unfortunately, fate had a different plan for him.

The moment he opened the door and stepped through the doorway, something wet, heavy, and sticky fell on top of him, soaking his entire body in a mass of thick liquid while loud bells sounded from nowhere, alerting the entire household. Soon enough, a stampede of footsteps screeched to a halt in front of him.

“Merlin!� Lily gasped when she saw a Harry-like figure completely drenched in red and gold paint.

James just stared at the sight, noting Harry’s still body, still in shock at what had just been promptly dumped on him. A shadow of a mischievous, famous Marauder smile tugged at his lips, something that did not go unnoticed by his wife.

However, someone else did not seem to possess the self-restraint to keep from laughing. A snort came from Violet, who had been standing beside her parents, her face red with effort. She lost the battle and a laugh erupted.

Lily exchanged amused glances with her husband and waited for their daughter’s giggles to subside.

Well, Mum always thought the Gryffindor colors flattered you, Harry,� Violet said slyly.

“Where did you get the paint?�

She had the grace to look ashamed. “Er –I sort of –well– conjured it.�

“And broke the rules again,� James added with a hint of pride.

“You’re not going to report me, are you?�

Meanwhile, Harry had pulled out his wand and muttered “Scourgify� enabling him to see again; what he saw was Violet putting on the world’s best pout –from the exasperated looks on his parents’ faces, it was an old trick.

“I swear, she gets that from you, James,� Lily accused.

James shrugged, but a faint roguish grin lit up his face. “Well, that and my good looks,� he informed his wife in a light, teasing voice, breaking out of the solemn mood that had possessed him the night before.

“Not so good,� Lily retorted, her voice equally teasing. “Remember the first six years of Hogwarts?�

James winced. “Painfully.�

Harry realized that his mum was talking about the years she had loathed James Potter, when he’d been a big headed, egotistic prick who had asked her out every day. With a grimace, he remembered his fear that his father had actually forced his mum to marry him against her will, a fear that Remus and Sirius had been quick to quash. Still, in the back of his mind, there had always been a sliver of a doubt.

Then Harry realized that his plan to sneak off to Hogwarts was ruined. Irritated and annoyed at Violet for playing a prank on him right when he was trying to figure everything out, he resisted the strong urge to hex her. Great; unless he could somehow get everyone else back to sleep, he would have to wait for the next opportunity. Well, that or Ron’s returning letter.

“Why’d you have to dump paint all over me?� he demanded angrily. “What’s next, pots and pans?�

Violet looked taken aback at his outburst. “You’ve never minded before,� she said quietly. But she shrugged it off and continued in a stronger voice. “Everyone was all depressed and stressed out from yesterday; I figured some laughter was needed. Sorry –but it really was a tame prank, you know!� she burst out suddenly, hazel eyes defensive.

Harry sighed. “Fine,� he said rather begrudgingly.

Well, he’d better get into the swing of things here, if just to avoid them carting him off to an insane asylum. Maybe he could coax some answers out of them; it was the most he could do right now.

“Why don’t you remove the enchantment you have on the doorway, Violet,� Lily prodded gently.

“Okay.� Violet ran back to her room and grabbed her wand, rushing back to where the rest of her family was waiting. She waved her wand above Harry’s head and muttered some incoherent words.

Suddenly, two bells and two empty cans of paint appeared out of nowhere and came crashing onto Harry’s head.

“Harry!�

Vision becoming blurry, his head spinning around in circles, Harry staggered and fell to the ground with a mighty thump, blacking out, but not before he had one last thought.

Looks like there’s another Marauder in the family.

* * *

“I’m really, really, really sorry!� Violet apologized over and over again, looking genuinely stricken. “I didn’t mean for everything to fall on you, really!�

“Mm hmm,� Harry grumbled, one hand on his head as he glared furiously at her. His mum had removed the large lumps on his head, but he was still nursing a massive headache after the healing. Harry was seriously convinced that someone really wanted him to fail.

A loud clang sounded as plates were placed in front of the two teens, the teeth of their forks sinking deeply into the pancakes.

Harry was surprised to see that their breakfast had been made without magic. But then, Lily Potter was a Muggle born, so maybe he shouldn’t be surprised that she had decided to keep some of the traditional normalcy her sister so desperately clings onto. He ignored Violet as she dove straight into her breakfast, instead choosing to watch his parents interact with each other. Figuring that his chance today to seek out Dumbledore was pretty much shot, Harry decided the best thing to do now is lie low and gather information on this end.

Lily was busy flipping over a pancake, smiling contently. James swooped in behind her, gently pulling back her flaming red hair and kissing the nape of her neck. “James!� she admonished playfully.

“What?� he asked, the telltale smirk betraying his innocent expression. James seemed to be in a much more cheerful mood after Violet’s prank; he had to admit that the practical joke had garnered the effect that Violet had wanted, albeit at Harry’s expense.

“Nothing,� Lily grazed her lips with his and, forgetting their children’s presence, deepened the kiss.

Harry wrinkled his nose and turned to face Violet, who was staring at her parents with an expression that mirrored his.

“Ew.�

That reminded Lily and James that they weren’t alone, after blushing furiously, they returned to cooking. But Harry smiled; any doubts about his parents’ relationship were wiped from his mind. They both seemed to be very much in love, and even if they were imposters, this fact still comforted Harry somewhat.

After all the cooking was done, the adults sat down with the kids, and they passed around the maple syrup and poured tea into their eager cups. The conversation was subdued in respect for what had happened the night before, although Violet did try to press her parents for information numerous times throughout the meal.

Harry heard tapping sounds behind him, frowning as he turned around to pinpoint the source of the noise –a tawny owl with what looked like a brown pouch and a Daily Prophet. Harry leaned back, fumbled with the latch for a few seconds, and opened the window for the owl, which hooted its gratitude and thrust the wizard newspaper at James. After placing a Knut into the little brown pouch, James took the paper from the owl and gave it a little nibble of his pancake before it went on its way back into the clear, blue, cloudless sky.

James conjured his glasses from nowhere and put them on, opening up the paper and intently reading the front page, frowning deeply.

“What’s wrong Jam –� Lily suddenly putting a hand over her mouth and gagged. Her eyes widened in alarm as she dashed to the bathroom, where distant retching sounds echoed into the hallway.

James stared in the direction where his wife had gone, looking extremely worried. “You two aren’t feelings sick, are you?�

Violet and Harry exchanged glances and shook their heads; he felt fine. James set the Daily Prophet down and traced Lily’s steps to the bathroom. Violet snatched the abandoned newspaper before Harry could. He wanted to wring his hands in frustration; reading the newspaper would help him learn what was going on here.

“Er –can I have that?� he asked as Violet scanned the front page with scrunched eyebrows.

“I got it first.�

“You dumped paint, buckets, and bells on my head.�

Violet looked confused. “So?�

Harry bit back a scream of frustration. Now he had an idea of what Ron had to go through with six siblings. He grew impatient and resolved the situation by simply snatching the Daily Prophet out of Violet’s hands. Ignoring her squeal of protest, he quickly read the front page, eyes widening at the familiar picture of an uncomfortable looking boy.

The Chosen One: Ally of the Ministry of Magic or Unwilling Puppet?

The Chosen One, also known as the Boy-Who-Lived, has recently been a constant figure around the vast Ministry of Magic, writes Rita Skeeter, the Daily Prophet’s esteemed correspondent. Neville Longbottom, who at first had been reluctant to make himself a public figure, has finally relented and now, after the heartbreaking tragedy of last year, decided to move on and join the Ministry in its hunt for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Asked about his past reluctance to cooperate with the Ministry, and the reason behind his change of heart, our honorable Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, answered, “Well, it seems that Neville has realized, after the events of the end of last school term, that decisive action must be taken, and taken immediately. He knows now that working for the Ministry will be in his best interest, and that we have the means to provide him with the best Auror protection available. We will ultimately be of great aid to him in his quest to defeat You-Know-Who.� Neville, who has been the object of both ridicule and admiration, only said that “well, in light of [You-Know-Who]’s return, I have taken it upon myself to save the Wizarding world from such an abomination. I am not just doing it for those who are living in such fear now, but for my parents. Yes, I miss them very much; sometimes I still cry about them when I am alone.� Despite everything the boy has gone through, Neville still possesses sensitivity, and a stray tear could be seen as our meeting came to a close. But this reporter was not entirely convinced; after much digging and searching, I have come across overwhelming evidence that this new role may not indeed be a completely voluntary act on young Neville’s part. For instance –

An irate Violet reclaimed the paper before he could finish the article, but Harry didn’t care. His brain was still spinning from the recent hoard of information he had just received. Neville was the Boy-Who-Lived? That means –the Prophecy does exist, just in the form of Neville Longbottom. Their roles had been reversed.

His stomach sank at the thought of shy, timid Neville facing everything he had faced in his life. Having your parents being tortured into insanity was bad enough but to have Harry’s life, to know that there was someone out there trying to kill you –he just couldn’t imagine it.

He frowned. Neville’s arrogant quote in the Prophet had not sounded like him at all. But then Harry remembered that Rita Skeeter had been the one who had written that article; she had probably used that bloody quill of hers and twisted Neville’s words, or perhaps invented them completely. He couldn’t believe she was still writing! But then, if she had never investigated Harry, why would Hermione go looking for blackmail?

Nevertheless, Harry noted that Neville had taken a completely different path than he had, choosing to be the Ministry’s poster boy. He wondered what else was different.

Before his thoughts could go any deeper, a loud pop sounded –Harry immediately pull out his wand, pointing it in Sirius Black’s face.

“It’s okay, Harry, it’s just me,� he reassured him, gently pushing the tip of Harry’s wand down, away from his godfather’s face.

Harry let out the breath he had been holding and relaxed while Violet got up and hugged Sirius, asking if he was okay.

“I’m good,� he replied, then pausing, adding under his breath. “Sort of.�

Violet cocked her head to one side. “What’s wrong Uncle Sirius?�

He gave her a small smile and shook his head, “Nothing, just thinking about yesterday and a certain four timing ex-girlfriend who I’ve wasted a precious year dating.�

“Oh,� Violet said, her face falling. “I’m sorry, Uncle Sirius.�

“Four timing?�

Sirius sighed dramatically. “You heard right; Aubrey had three other boyfriends.�

“Bad luck, Padfoot.�

Lily and James stood in the doorway, both wearing sympathetic smiles.

“I’m so sorry Sirius,� Lily said gently. “I’d really thought she was the one.�

“Really? I didn’t.�

James rolled his eyes in exasperation. “You’re cursed, Padfoot, I really think you are. You just don’t pick the right people.�

Sirius slumped in his seat, looking defeated. “I know. Look at everyone else, eloping and marrying left and right! And being an Order member and Auror and all –my chances of something happening are pretty high. I’m thirty bloody seven, for Merlin’s sake!�

Upon seeing Violet’s ashen expression, Lily glared at Sirius in warning.

At last, Sirius had sobered up and was now scrutinizing Lily carefully. “You don’t look well, Lils, you alright?�

Lily muttered something about an upset stomach, but Sirius saw the suspicious blush creeping up her cheeks, the defensive way one hand rested on her stomach. “Hold it –�he said, mouth gaping. “My future godchild isn’t in there, is it?�

“What?�

Harry was absolutely stunned; what other curves was this place going to throw at him?

James was the first to recover. “You –you’re p –pregnant?� he stuttered, looking caught between a mixture of elated happiness and extreme anxiety.

“I think so,� Lily said quietly, fidgeting under everyone’s gazes. “I didn’t –I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure.� With that, she glared heatedly at Sirius, who had the grace to look ashamed.

“Oh no,� James said, suddenly looking tired and withered as he collapsed heavily into a chair.

Her face fell. “This isn’t good news?�

James’s raised his head, casting his wife an apologetic glance. “No, it’s great news, it’s just –it’s so dangerous now –�

Apparently, confusion was contagious –this whole day has been strange. Were all these events, all these differences, supposed to do something? There must be some purpose, unless he was just imagining all this. But as hard as he tried, Harry just couldn’t believe that –everything was too real to be an illusion.

He drummed his fingers on the table in a comforting beat, appearing to be in thought about the newest Potter when he was really examining Sirius carefully, watching him for any little tiny out of character reaction. He didn’t find any; everything about him, from the way he scrunched his eyebrows to the confident way he carried himself, was all completely and utterly Sirius Black.

The room was silent for a moment, but for Harry it seemed to drag on for an eternity. The only sounds he could hear were the rhythmic drumming of his fingertips and the ticking of the clock next to the cabinet. Tick, tock, tick, tock.

Harry flinched as a chair screeched across the floor. James had gotten up and embraced Lily, murmuring words of apology in her ear.

“I’m sorry, Lily, I’m happy, I really am! I’m just –�

“Worried?� She smiled sadly.

Sirius coughed. “I hate to be the one to break this up but Scrimgeour wants all Aurors to come to the office to discuss last night; he’s apparently under the impression that he’s still the Head of our department. Want to know how Dumbledore’s secret Order found out about the massacre.� He scowled. “I don’t see what he’s so upset about; everything was going to hell by the time we got there.�

This intrigued Harry greatly. “Why would he be so against the Order of the Phoenix?�

“Because it was started by Dumbledore,� Violet explained. “And he’s never liked him, has he? Scrimgeour’s the kind of person who likes to hold a tight leash on everything; Dumbledore founding a secret Order purely made for fighting Voldemort and the Death Eaters implies that the Ministry isn’t doing a good job. So basically, he’s a little baby who’s insulted when the older kids help. Duh, Harry.�

“Oh, right.� Harry said, realizing that Rufus Scrimgeour was the same everywhere. Then it hit him that Violet had called Voldemort by his name, not You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He couldn’t help but have a little respect for the immature prankster for not giving in to the fear. But then, perhaps she had just been raised that way.

Harry wanted to ask what would happen if the Minister ever found out that they were Order members, but held his tongue, catching the look Lily sent him. She was starting to get suspicious with his question; he must have asked them this already, and Harry couldn’t afford to get trapped in the corner now, not before he found out more.

“We’d better get going.� Sirius checked his watch. “We can’t afford to be late.�

Husband and wife nodded. “You two –don’t get into trouble while we’re gone, you hear?�

“What could we possibly do?� Violet asked innocently, batting her eyelashes.

James’s voice was stern. “No more pranks; I think your brother’s had enough for the week.�

Just how often did Violet prank people?

He had to solve this mystery somehow. Harry stared at the calm outside the window of the Potter house, knowing that he must get back to what he’s supposed to be doing –finishing what he started.

With a quick kiss, Lily rejoined the other two and Apparated to the Ministry of Magic.

The moment they left the room, Harry rounded on his sister. “What would happen if Scrimgeour found out they were Order members?�

Violet looked taken aback by this question. “They’d be fired, probably. And maybe worse, I dunno.� She tried to pass the way she said it off with an offhand manner, but he could tell that behind that, she was worried.

Harry poked his pancake, deep in thought. Now that he’s been here for a little bit, it was easier to play his part. His strategy right now seemed to be working; he figured he’d stick to it for the moment, although he’d make sure to floo to Hogwarts in the morning. Going at night wasn’t a good idea –he wasn’t sure if they’d check on him or not– but if he went in the morning, he could pass it off as something else. A nighttime excursion was bound to be more suspicious.

But the truth was, he needed more time to plan, to absorb everything before he confronted Dumbledore, if he was there. As hard as he tried to optimistic about it, he couldn’t help but feel like everything was about to spin out of control.

Well, life was full of unexpected surprises.

Sirius fell through the veil. He was thrown backwards so slowly, so gracefully that the fall felt like an eternity to Harry’s horrified eyes. His gaze locked on the falling figure –

Maybe, just maybe, Harry could reach him before he disappeared forever.

He ran, forgetting his injuries, the surrounding Death Eaters, Aurors, and friends, hurt, perhaps fatally; right now, all he could see was his godfather beginning to vanish from his sight.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he reached Sirius just in time, but was startled when Sirius’s hand reached out and pulled Harry in with him. They tumbled through layer after layer of pure white cloth, the silk brushing against Harry’s cheek with deceptive gentleness until gradually, the color began darkening. They soon found themselves surrounded by an assortment of grey swirls, the color tone varying the further along they got; eventually, the darkness engulfed them, and the black veil wrapped itself around Harry and Sirius, marking them with its imprint.

As he was being smothered by the cloth, Harry could have sworn he saw a speck of green in front of his eyes. He opened his mouth to demand the reason why Sirius had pulled them in, but his tongue was silenced as a rush of sharp, frigid air assaulted his face. He looked down, and immediately wished he hadn’t.

They were falling for an eternity, two figures cloaked by the shadow of night. Below him was a greenish tint in an otherwise dark sky, which puzzled him greatly.

Sirius!

Don’t worry, Harry, Sirius’s voice echoed in his head, nothing bad will happen while I’m here. Harry bit his lip, disbelieving; but he trusted him.

After all, what could Harry do while falling from the sky? Wind howled in his ears as he sped up, faster and faster they fell into nothingness. The emerald speck grew larger until its eerie brightness presented itself as a looming threat. His stomach sank horribly as he recognized the green symbol of terror, the emblem constantly imprinted in his nightmares–

The Dark Mark.

But they merely passed through the floating green clouds. Involuntary shivers possessed his body for a moment, but he stubbornly fought it off and looked down. Green filled his vision as he neared the highest tower. Wincing, he closed his eyes to block the blinding light out. When he opened them, a terrible sight beheld him.

Albus Dumbledore’s limp body fell over the railing, his robes –once magnificent– billowing out behind him, his arms stretched out as if soaring. An eagle. A Phoenix.

No!

He was powerless. Still, he knew he couldn’t leave him to die. Now that he was falling level with him, Harry desperately grabbed his mentor by the hand, attempting to yank the Headmaster upright again.

Leave him, Harry, there’s nothing you can do.

No. I’m not just going to let him die again!

It’s his time.

He looked again at Dumbledore’s peaceful eyelids. Why?

Because sometimes you just have to be patient and let things run its course, Sirius said, his fierce gaze upon Harry. Remember that.

Before Harry could answer, they hit the ground.

BEEP! BEEP!

Harry Potter awoke with a start, automatically grabbing his wand and pointing it at the darkness. Groggily, he tried to identify where he was; this didn’t look like Privet Drive. He absorbed the Quidditch poster, the bookshelf filled with Wizarding books, and everything came flooding back. Right, so his parents were alive, Sirius was alive, he had a prankster sister, and Neville is “the Chosen One.�

Everything makes sense now.

Scowling at the bright green numbers in the darkness, Harry wondered if another prank was in store for him today –it had definitely slowed down his plans yesterday. He frowned.

What had that dream been about? Let things run its course. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

He felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Why’d he have to dream about the both of them? It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been having enough trouble being trapped in an unknown place. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, Harry twirled his wand between his fingers before pointing it at the doorframe. He wasn’t taking any chances of having paint dumped all over him again –

His door swung open. “Oh, good, you’re awake,� Violet said. Harry stole an annoyed glance at the glowing “6:33AM,� wondering why she was up so early. Violet’s eyes followed his, and a slightly concerned look crossed her face. “Don’t you remember what today is?�

“No.�

Violet hesitated. “It’s the anniversary of the Longbottoms’ murders,� she said quietly. “When Neville defeated Voldemort.�

Harry frowned. His parents had been killed on Halloween –why were Frank and Alice Longbottoms’ deaths mourned now? But perhaps this, among other things, was just another difference here.

“Mum says to get dressed, so hurry it up.�

“Yeah, yeah.�

Violet spared a moment to stick her tongue at him before slamming the door shut. Harry scoffed.

Sisters.

* * *

Checking once again to make sure his wand was securely snug inside his jean pocket, Harry descended the stairs and entered the kitchen, where the rest of them were waiting. He noticed that Lily kept on glancing at the clock nervously every few seconds.

“Oh, there you are Harry. We’ve better go, James, or risk being late.�

James nodded and quickly put on his Muggle jacket before reaching into a drawer for a sack of powder. He handed it to Harry and grabbed a fistful of Floo powder, shouting “Mrs. Longbottom’s house!� and disappearing a flash of emerald flames.

Harry did not feel comfortable with this. He shifted slightly as he allowed Violet to take some Floo powder of her own. In the world he knew, Harry had yet to visit Godric’s Hollow, his parents’ graves; he meant to, right after Bill and Fleur’s wedding, but –this he wasn’t prepared for. The Longbottoms weren’t his parents, and it felt strange just thinking about commemorating people who shouldn’t have died, who should be insane.

He wondered which scenario was worse. Would the Longbottoms or Neville had preferred it if Frank and Alice had died instead of becoming empty shadows of their old selves? If they had the choice, would they have chosen death?

Would Harry’s parents?

Not that it’d matter, since they didn’t really have a choice in the matter, they were murdered, murdered so Harry could save the world and be the cursed Boy-Who-Lived. He clenched the Floo powder sack tightly with his fingers, the mere thought of that fateful Halloween night causing his blood to rise. For so long, Harry hadn’t known a single truthful fact about his parents or known anybody who actually cared that they had died. Perhaps, Harry thought, deep inside her leather heart, Aunt Petunia did love her sister, did mourn for her internally in the privacy of her heart, but he might be wrong.

Still, this would be a good opportunity to extract more information, learn more about the differences of this place compared to the one Harry knew.

Doesn’t hurt to think positively, right?

“Harry?� He turned to his mother. “Are you ready to go?�

“Oh, yeah, right,� Harry muttered, walking into the fireplace carefully. Soon, he felt himself yanked in that infernally sickening sensation, spiraling through varied fireplaces before tumbling clumsily into a well lit, clean room, its carpet soon to be smudged with soot from a certain Harry Potter.

A slightly familiar woman came rushing over to him, pushing him away from the carpet and onto the safe marble floor. “Don’t ruin the carpet!� she snapped, muttering a cleaning charm on both Harry and her precious rug. Irritably, she adjusted the large black vulture hat on her head, waiting for James’s arrival.

Neville’s Grams? Harry instantly recognized the vulture hat that Neville had dressed Boggart Snape in during Defense Against the Dark Arts third year. His chuckle was smothered, however, by James Potter’s arrival. Luckily for Mrs. Longbottom, he was much better at staying on his feet after Floo travel.

“Where’s Neville?� James asked, looking around for him.

Mrs. Longbottom fidgeted slightly. “He couldn’t make it today; he’s been summoned by the Ministry.� She scowled. “Apparently the blasted Ministry hadn’t had the heart to leave Neville alone today of all days. Not including you two, of course,� she added hastily.

“No problem at all, Augusta.� Lily smiled reassuringly. “You know we are not –er–� she glanced suspiciously around the room before lowering her voice, “Are you positive there are no bugs in the room? Have they all been exterminated? If I remember correctly, you had a fairly troublesome pesk problem about a month ago.�

Harry looked up, his interest peaked. Surveillance had been placed in Mrs. Longbottom’s house? But why? Who would want to spy on an old lady?

Wait. Not Mrs. Longbottom. Neville, or members of the Order of the Phoenix.

Mrs. Longbottom tittered impatiently. “Yes, yes, of course, I had Nymphadora charm the place, make it safe. I would have had you do it, Lily dear, but you are already under suspicion; I did not wish to add to it.�

Lily and James both nodded their thanks.

“Wait,� Violet interrupted brashly. “What do you mean ‘you are already under suspicion’? You told me everything was okay!� she glared accusingly at her father, who did not look guilty in the slightest.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds, Vi –�

“How’s that?�

Lily sighed. “Everyone knows we have strong ties with Dumbledore, that we have a very personal reason for wanting Voldemort dead and joining the Order. Lots of people are suspected –�

“But ‘lots of people’ aren’t my mum and dad!� she yelled back angrily.

“Excuse me young lady,� Mrs. Longbottom snapped. “This is supposed to be a quiet day of remembrance, not of accusations!�

Violet looked down at the rug, ashamed. “I’m sorry.�

Harry soaked all of this in with interest. They were all so rigid; there’s been a constant intensity and unease that had not been present as often in his world. He observed the family.

Maybe he’d never noticed because he’d never had this before.

He thought about the Weasleys, how good they’d been to him ever since meeting Ron on the Hogwarts Express all those years ago. They treated him like a second son, but it wasn’t the same; just as each family member had a dynamic with another, Harry found himself understanding these people more every second he spends with them. They already have a previously established relationship, and he’s taking advantage of that.

“Well, best we get a move on then,� Mrs. Longbottom said gruffly.

“W –why couldn’t we have just met there?� Violet asked meekly.

James took her hand as they ventured outside. “The cemetery’s really close to Aug –Mrs. Longbottom’s house, and we’d felt that this year, we should walk there together.�

“Oh.�

They walked along the breezy London streets in silence, hugging their scarves closer to their bodies as the howling of the wind grew stronger, as if wailing for the Longbottoms’ loss. It was an unusually cold day, Harry noted, fingering his cozy red and gold Gryffindor scarf. He had deliberately stayed in the rear of the group, where he was free to his thoughts without interruption.

This was just so depressing. Harry had an inane urge to kick, fight, do something, take action, act brashly, act upon that Gryffindor recklessness and courage.

But something was holding him back. Perhaps it was that dream, stored in the back of his mind as a red flag of caution. Maybe it was hearing Sirius’s voice in his head, warning him against petulant action, advice Sirius himself had not heeded.

Diving straight into action is what cost Sirius his life. Harry was not going to let it take his; no, not before he finished what he started. Not before he defeated Voldemort. Harry blew hot air into his palms, rubbing them together to warm up his hands. Why the hell was it so cold? It’s summer; it’s supposed to be warm. How strange.

Something caught Harry’s eye. A sliver of wood peeked down from underneath James’s sleeve. So he has his wand out and ready for an attack, Harry observed. Was the danger even more escalated here?

Must be. As they neared the cemetery, shouts also seemed to be echoing closer. A game of soccer raged, both parents and coaches yelling out encouragement and support for their respective teams. Mrs. Longbottom angrily muttered something about “the nerve –disrespect for the sanctity of the dead –�

Harry couldn’t help but agree, just as the soccer players couldn’t help that the field had been built next to a cemetery. Blame the politicians.

The old, rusty gate creaked as it swung open of its own accord to meet them, but as he passed through, something got caught in his hair. Frowning, Harry picked it out, and briefly glanced at it. The leaf was rather big, and rather ordinary, if not for the small heart shaped hole in the middle. Shrugging, Harry carelessly tossed it aside, letting it catch a breeze and float away.

The noise coming from the soccer game had quieted, but Harry figured the match must be over. He supposed that was a good thing, considering why they were there. Reverence.

No one else was there. Harry kept on glancing suspiciously behind him or toward every swaying branch, every snap of twigs, and every crunch of gravel beneath their feet. One can never be too careful, especially these days, especially in this place.

Harry had never liked cemeteries; he hated them. When he was little, and dragged reluctantly someplace by the Dursleys, they would pass by a little graveyard in Surrey. It had been horrible for little Harry, who couldn’t help but wonder if his parents were trapped somewhere, their “revolting corpses decaying into dust� as Uncle Vernon had so eloquently put it. “Good riddance,� he had added none too quietly, as if their deaths had merely been an afterthought to him, just one of those anonymous people on the news instead of his sister and brother-in-law. Well, at least for these strangers, most people would feel pity about their situation; not for the Potters, however. No, Uncle Vernon just didn’t give a shit about those particular in-laws.

It hadn’t helped his fear of cemeteries when Dudley had shoved him, giggling crazily, into an open, unoccupied grave meant for a well loved elderly man, whose coffin would be carried amongst his family and friends hours later. Poor Harry had been so traumatized by that experience, his unheard screaming from beneath the earth, heart thumping out of his chest as he wondered if the high dirt walls would collapse, leaving him to suffocate alone and abandoned.

Would anyone have mourned for him if it had?

Probably not, not by the Muggles he knew. Not by the Dursleys, the only family he had, a family who hated everything about him, from his once crooked glasses to his unruly hair all the way to the stupid scar that had landed him in their custody in the first place.

He vaguely remembered the woman with kind green eyes; not quite as brilliant a green as his own, but a memorable sort of green nonetheless. They had reminded Harry of his mum, whatever memory of her that was etched in his sub-consciousness. He remembered that long stretch of time when they had just stood there, staring at each other. Silence had bridged the distance between the mourners and the boy standing on a mound of dirt that didn’t belong to him. To Harry, the woman above had been miles higher than him, perhaps almost stretching to heaven.

For a short, amazing moment, Harry had thought he was staring at his mum, finally here to rescue him from his guardians and bully of a son, the reason why he had been stuck in that grave in the first place.

But the woman had blinked out of her shock at seeing a scrawny little boy standing in a grave and called out to someone. In no time, Harry had been lifted out of the grave, proceeding to be interrogated.

Who are your parents?

Where are they?

What’s your name, son?

When –er, I mean, how long were you in there?

Why were you in there?

Harry had sat there in silence, hoping beyond hope that they would never find the Dursleys. If he had been lucky, he probably would have been shipped of to an orphanage. So Harry had kept his silence, keeping his fingers crossed that he’d be able to escape the Dursleys, even if it meant living under the state’s care. Alas, no such luck; they had recovered him. Even back then, Harry had not been stupid enough to think that his aunt and uncle had searched for him because they actually cared. No, they just hadn’t wanted to have a black smudge on what they considered a perfect parental record, nor did they wish to have the government on their arses for losing him.

C’mere boy, Uncle Vernon had growled, leading Harry away with a disgruntled expression on his face, disgusted that his freakishly abnormal nephew had called the bad sort of attention towards his perfectly normal family again. Of course, typical Uncle Vernon, the porky man had completely ignored the fact that it had been his own equally pig-like son who had pushed Harry into that position in the first place.

Something white was shoved into Harry’s face, breaking into his memories.

“Take it, Harry,� Violet urged under her breath, waving the white rose between two fingertips.

He took it from her, noticing that everyone was also holding one. They must have conjured it without him noticing. Mrs. Longbottom stepped forward in front of the two graves, the wrinkled creases of her face somber.

“Oh, Frank, Alice.�

The wind brushed past her, carrying her voice into the air, perhaps where her son can hear her. She looked as if she wanted to say more, but couldn’t find the words. Instead, she carefully placed the white rose –symbolizing life, instead of death– between the two graves, tucking it in carefully so the wind could not easily misplace it.

This simple, sentimental custom was the best way to remember their lives, instead of mourning their deaths.

He placed his rose between the others. Sinking down to his knees, Harry sharpened his senses for danger but allowed his mind to wander in those precious moments of meditation.

Crack.

Eyes snapping open, Harry realized that the delicate white petals had been frozen into brittle ice sculptures.

Oh no.

He could already feel his insides freezing, his head screaming with voices that weren’t his, his heart pumping as both his and the voices’ fear seized him. No time to think, he had to act before –

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!� Harry shouted on instinct, trying to get his hazy mind to focus on that happy memory, to sift through the darkness and loss to find the light. He didn’t even remember reaching for his wand; but there it was, outstretched in front of him as the brilliant glow emitted from it, shaping into a fierce stag, antlers bowed. Prongs charged at the Dementor, sending it spiraling away before it had a chance to get to him.

“Harry, watch out!� James shouted, sounding slightly shocked, as he protected the rest of his family. “Get over here!�

Harry nodded and turned to help them when a cold rattling breath caught him off guard from behind. He tried to fight it, urged Prongs, who was slowly disappearing, to come again, but the stag had faded –Prongs was gone. Pressure began building up in his head as the echoes of the dead increased their assault on his mind.

Pleas, defiance, panic, sorrow, love, cold remorseless laughter –

“Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead!�

“Stand aside, you silly girl!�

“Your mother need not have died, you know…�

“Lily, take Harry and go! It’s him! Go! Run! I’ll hold him off!�

Gravity.

Cedric fell as the burst of green light struck him, his eyes wide open in shock –

Sirius, caught in mid laugh, disappearing gracefully behind the veil…

Professor Dumbledore, pleading with the Potion’ s Master, his eyes no longer twinkling but caught between fear and anticipation for the next journey, his body falling over the edge of the tallest tower to face it before it met the ground –

A single voice broke out amongst the chaos.

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!�

Another joined it, making Harry’s ears ring as two silver figures plowed down the remaining Dementors.

* * *

He didn’t know how much time had passed. Groggily, he registered that someone was shoving something hard and sweet into his mouth.

A chocolate bar.

Harry sat up as soon as he had bitten into the candy, realizing that he was lying on a park bench, still inside the graveyard. Violet sat on the ground cross legged, hugging her knees and shaking. Whatever the Dementors had made her see, it must have been bad –she looked a sickening ashen color, with permanent shock etched on her face.

But he didn’t have long to dwell on it, for a pair of long arms had attached themselves around Harry, bringing him into a bone crushing embrace. His own green eyes stared back at him in worry, shock and wonder, filled with unrestrained emotions.

“You had me worried sick!� Lily snapped, her words underlined with a shrillness that echoed Aunt Petunia. “What were you thinking, trying to tackle that –that thing? You could have been killed. You okay?� She added, ruffling his hair affectionately before embracing him again.

“Don’t suffocate the boy, Lils,� James said. He then turned to Harry, frowning. “Where did you learn to conjure a Patronus? Remus said that’d be a part of this year’s curriculum.�

Harry couldn’t very well say that he’d learned it from said werewolf in his third year; he had to divert the attention from himself. “Where did the Dementors go? Er –and where’s Mrs. Longbottom?�

James eyed him suspiciously, clearly noticing that Harry was trying to avoid the question. However, he didn’t press the matter further, merely pointing a somber finger in the direction of Frank and Alice Longbottoms’ graves.

Mrs. Longbottom was kneeling on the frosty ground, her old, wizened hands carefully chipping ice off the tombstone with tender care. Her face was expressionless, at an impasse between sorrow and fury. But when she briefly directed her face in their direction, Harry could see the old woman’s eyes both blazing and watering with tears and anger. In that moment, she looked like a tiger, ready to pounce on anyone at any time in a petulant second.

Harry wondered if that was what Sirius had felt the night Harry’s parents died, the same very alive people standing next to him. He wondered if Sirius’s heart had been filled with the fresh anguish in Mrs. Longbottom’s eyes, and if that anguish had turned to fury, if that fury had mutated into a thirst for revenge, for that bloodshed of whoever had murdered them, or desecrated their memory.

Unfortunately and fortunately for Mrs. Longbottom, the Dementors cannot be easily found or destroyed; like the despicable traitorous rat Peter Pettigrew, they work for Voldemort, and are under his protection. Voldemort definitely would not have spared her, would not haven given a thought to it when he waved his wand at her and lazily uttered the Unforgivable Avada Kedavra.

He has no heart, not even compassion for a woman who’s lost her son and daughter-in-law in a horrible way.

And soon, when the time comes, no one will show Voldemort any compassion or mercy. Not that Tom Riddle had ever wanted it.

* * *

“You sure we shouldn’t be with Augusta right now?�

James shook his head. “No, I think she wants to be left alone. Don’t worry, Lily,� he added quickly, noticing Lily about to argue, “if she needs us, she’ll fire call us.�

Her green eyes narrowed, but after an internal battle, she decided to be reasonable, instead just asking tiredly, “Anyone hungry?�

Three heads confirmed in unison.

“Hot chocolate should do the trick,� she murmured to herself. “I think I still have some left over –� She began to take out the hot cocoa packets and a meager bag of marshmallows, but James immediately took the ingredients out of her hand, insisting on making it.

“I’m perfectly capable of brewing hot chocolate, James; I’m not an invalid.�

James sighed. “I know, but you really should sit down and rest. You’re pregnant, remember?�

“Of course I remember I’m pregnant, James,� she snapped, reminding Harry of the tempered argument he had witnessed in Snape’s Pensive, when Lily had informed James that she’d rather go out with the giant squid than him any day. “After all, I’m the one who’ll has the morning sickness, the nausea, people constantly touching my stomach, invading my personal space –�

James smiled patiently, knowing she hadn’t meant it. “And mood swings –I know. But it’s been a tough morning, and you really should rest. I insist. I promise I won’t poison the hot chocolate, scout’s honor.� He added lightly, using that Muggle terminology that he’d heard once.

“As long as it’s not poisoned.� Lily grumbled, but she did sit down with her kids.

A smile stayed on James’s lips as he began to make hot chocolate without magic, the Muggle way, allowing the sweet aroma to fill their noses and hearts, battling the lingering coldness that stays in the system after a Dementor attack.

Violet sure looked like she could use some hot cocoa. Despite being indoors again, her face was still abnormally pale, her usually bright, mischievous hazel eyes darkened and dulled by something no one else could see.

“Er –you okay?� Harry asked awkwardly. He felt this inert concern for her, but that may just be because she looked an inch away from death.

She flinched at his words, spooked by something hidden behind the shadows of her eyes. “I –I’m fine,� she muttered quickly in a nearly inaudible tone.

Frowning, Harry shook his head; he didn’t believe her. Violet ignored him, but didn’t shake off her mother’s comforting arm around her shoulder, gently stroking her vibrant hair. Lily smiled at Harry, showing him without words that she appreciated him being kind to his sister.

No one has ever looked at him like that. Mrs. Weasley came close, but it wasn’t the same, because although in many ways she was a surrogate mother to him, she wasn’t his actual mother.

“Drink up.�

Harry sipped his hot chocolate, savoring the taste and the warmth that spread all the way down to his toes. “Thanks,� he said politely, granted a smile in return as James sat down next to him.

They sat there in comfortable silence, enjoying their company and sipping the drinks. Harry couldn’t help but notice that Lily and James kept on glancing worriedly at Violet, who was stubbornly pretending not to notice it, instead staring ahead into space and stirring her cocoa absentmindedly.

“What’s wrong, Violet?� Lily finally asked.

Violet froze, letting her spoon clang against the ceramic cup. “Nothing’s wrong.�

“I don’t believe that.�

“You don’t have to.�

“Violet, talk to me; it’s no good to pent things up inside.�

“Why?�

“It’s going to have to come out eventually.�

“I don’t want it to come out now.�

“You really believe that?�

“It’s my feelings, Mum. My business.�

“I’m just trying to help, Vi.�

“Well don’t!� Violet shouted, her knuckles white from being clenched so hard.

“Violet.� James warned sternly before turning back to his wife. “Lily, let it go.�

Lily bit her lip, but did back off reluctantly. Harry noticed the fear reflected in her eyes, though –fear for her daughter, fear for the unknown, fear of the dark.

“Can I go to my room?� Violet asked, her voice strained and tight, trying her very best to keep it even and composed.

“Sure,� Both parents said in unison, and both continued to watch her back as she practically sprinted out of the kitchen and listened to her feet as it pounded up the stairs.

Lily put her face in her hands, looking lost. “I shouldn’t have interrogated her like that before she was ready –�

“You were worried; we both were,� James said firmly. “We’re going to have to talk to her about it soon anyway. Do you know what’s bothering her, Harry?�

“What?� Harry asked, surprised. “No.�

James sighed. “It’s probably still the same thing, Lily. And with school looming closer –�

“It gets harder.� Lily finished, nodding in understanding.

Harry was confused. What were they talking about?

“Hey, Harry, do you think your mum and I can have a word alone? I know you want to be informed about Order stuff, but this is classified.�

“Oh, yeah, sure,� Harry said distractedly, quickly getting up to retreat to “his� room. However, before reaching it, he paused at Violet’s door, carefully listening for any signs of life inside. It was completely silent. He resisted the urge to go in, and continued on down the hall.

A loud welcoming “HOOT!� when he entered the room made him nearly jump out of his skin in shock, and he had his wand instantly out and pointing at the owl perched on the desk, a roll of parchment tied around its legs. A surge of hope swelled in Harry’s heart as he realized that the owl must have brought Ron’s answer back. He eagerly relieved the owl of its burden, took a few moments to rummage the drawers for owl treats, and finally unrolled Ron’s letter.

Potter,

STAY THE BLOODY HELL AWAY FROM MY SISTER!

Harry reread the letter again and again and didn’t find any hidden meaning in it whatsoever, no hint of Ron, his best friend. Sinking into his chair, Harry, in an impulsive act of frustration, tore the parchment to shreds.

He had never felt so alone in his life.

The bacon sizzled above the stove as Harry prepared breakfast, its scent filling his nose with familiarity. This wasn’t a huge task by any means; he was used to making breakfast for the Dursleys. Still, it was nice to be able to cook without worrying about thin, disapproving lips screaming at him every five minutes. After all, nothing had ever been good enough for his aunt’s ickle Dudders. He smiled; he didn’t have to worry about that here.

“Thanks for helping out, Harry.�

“It’s okay,� he answered distractedly, busy turning the bacon over. It hissed as the aroma released into the kitchen, grease and oil sizzling in the pan. What had once been a stressful affair actually seemed pleasant and calming when he didn’t have his aunt breathing down his neck like a bony Hungarian Horntail.

Lily eyed him suspiciously. “I’m curious, Harry, to know when you turned into a chef. Only time you had showed interest in cooking was when we got you the Magic Desert Oven when you were five. Burned the cookies every time –you didn’t cast a spell on yourself, did you?�

“What?�

“Just because you’re of age now does not mean you need to use magic for everything! Honestly Harry –�

“What are we screaming at Harry about?�

Lily turned to acknowledge her husband, who had been running a hand through severely disheveled hair. “We are not doing anything. I am yelling, not screaming.� She placed her hands on her hips. “Your son –�

“Oh, so when he’s in trouble, he’s just my son now, is he?� he teased, smiling patiently.

“Your son has been using spells on himself to enhance his culinary skills.�

“But I didn’t use a spell!� Harry groaned. “She’s being paranoid! You’re being paranoid.�

Sparkling green eyes flashed dangerously as Lily opened her mouth to snap back –James decided it was best to intervene. “The bacon’s burning!� he shouted.

Lily swiftly turned on instinct –sure enough, there was now a coal-like quality to the unsupervised bacon. She flicked an urgent finger in the direction of the stove; to Harry’s surprise, the knob controlling the stove switched off on its own.

She can do wandless magic?

James nodded in approval. “I forgot how much of a magic booster pregnancy is.�

Lily smiled “I didn’t. Remember that time at Hogwarts when I was pregnant with Violet? When Harry got himself lost?�

“He wasn’t lost, Lils, just picking up on that Marauder penchant for exploring –�

“–and worrying his mother so sick that she would have blown up some of Albus’s possessions if her husband hadn’t stopped her,� Lily finished, gazing at James affectionately.

Albus’s possessions –Harry blushed, remembering his own temper tantrum in Professor Dumbledore’s office. Unfortunately, that occasion was not one to laugh about; the meeting had been very serious, concerning not Harry’s physical whereabouts, but the placement of a great burden upon his shoulders –Harry, the Boy-Who-Lived; Harry, the Chosen One; Harry, not the person, but a fulfillment of a prophecy, an icon of achievement and of the past and future downfall of Lord Voldemort.

Although he had felt justified in his fury at the time, he still regretted his loss of control, of wearing his heart on his sleeve. He scowled, irritated at invoking Snape’s words –Snape, the betrayer, the Death Eater. Dumbledore’s murderer.

Fists clenched tightly, Harry had managed to disperse his scowl by the time Lily turned to face him. “Would you mind waking Violet up for breakfast?� she asked casually, but her eyes warned him –perhaps about her state of mind after the Dementor attack. His interest was piqued –just how differently had Potter family had fared through the years? Unfortunately, a direct question would be too suspicious; from the way they talked about it, Harry was expected to know exactly what had happened to his little sister, whatever it may be.

“Okay.�

Still, when he found himself standing in front of her door, his fist remained suspended over the barrier, in the process of knocking. Instinct took over, and he put his ear against the door, wishing he had a pair of Extendable Ears on him. As hard as he tried, Harry couldn’t hear anything; but he didn’t really know Violet –he had no way of knowing whether or not his was a good sign.

Either way, he still had to wake her up; he gently turned the knob, prepared for whatever he may face in there.

The room was dead silent. The lump under the covers indicated that Violet was still sleeping, but it unnerved him that he couldn’t hear her breathing. Harry shook his head; he’d roomed with four snoring boys for the past six years. It was more than likely that his sense of a normal breathing pattern became incredibly distorted because of them.

Ron. He winced at the thought of his best mate. He’d never wanted them to accompany him, to willingly walk with him towards certain death; yet Harry felt their absence most profoundly –it didn’t feel right not to have them here. It was hard to accept that the two people who would never abandon him weren’t here, not to laugh at his mistakes or spur him to research. No matter how hard he’d tried to push them away, they stuck to him. Harry smiled.

Like fungus.

“Er –Violet? Wake up.� Harry poked the lump.

No response.

“C’mon, breakfast’s up.� Frustrated, Harry unraveled the blanket’s layers to reveal a mass of auburn hair.

“Wake up!�

He frowned; there hadn’t been a single reaction. By now, Harry had half a mind to just let her sleep, but considering how she’d holed herself in her room for the past week, he knew it was time to reappear.

Harry hated not knowing. All he knew was that she was reacting violently to whatever traumatic experience she’d seen that day at the graveyard –but he didn’t know what. But he of all people knew what it was like to dwell on the past, to regret and mourn until he’d become so self-involved that he forgot what he was missing.

He didn’t know her, but he felt obligated to give her a reality check. After all, Ginny had told it to him straight during that really low time in his life, when he had believed that Voldemort was possessing him; he’ll always love her for that ability to know exactly what a person needed. Ginny had known that he didn’t want pity, sympathetic apologies, or something to soften the blow. No, she had known exactly what Harry had needed –something that he himself hadn’t been able to see.

It was an innate feeling, built into him despite the years at the Dursleys’, despite the loneliness. She wasn’t real; she wasn’t really his sister, but he felt compelled to try nevertheless. Moving closer to the lump, Harry panicked briefly, fearing that she’d died. But as he inspected her closer, he realized with a sigh of relief that her skin was still warm, that she was indeed breathing, if just very quietly.

Surveying her room carefully, he tried to look for something that would help get her attention. Quidditch posters adorned the walls, from the Tornados to Hogwarts’ own Gryffindor house team. Intrigued by that particular poster against his will, Harry found himself moving closer to the red and gold picture.

Harry saw himself zooming around the picture, scarlet robes billowing out behind him and eyes narrowed in concentration as he chased after the Snitch. As Poster Harry flew to the front, he caught a glimpse of the “C� embroidered on his robes. Apparently, the fact that he was captain had not changed here. Poster Harry caught the Snitch with a triumphant grin before letting it ago again, giving it a good few seconds head start, and tearing after it. He examined the rest of the poster to find some familiar faces: Katie Bell was attempting to score on Ron, who deftly saved the first shot, but missed the second one, scored by –

Violet.

Reminded of why he was there, he reluctantly turned away from the memoir of his favorite sport and looked around the rest of the room. There were definitely some alien girly touches to the room, especially the numerous moving snapshots of family and who Harry assumed were friends. Something drew him to slowly approach these moving visuals, if only to understand Violet better.

A picture of the Potters, smiling in front of the Hogwarts Express, stood confidently on the nightstand. Lily’s eyes were brightly watery, and even James looked on the verge of tears –but proud tears at that. A very young looking Violet was smiling brightly into the camera, barely able to conceal her excitement. Harry, who was around thirteen, looked as if he was trying to appear bored with the family picture. However, the ghost of a grin tugging at his lips canceled out his attempt.

Despite himself, Harry felt a smile on his face. He looked at another photo on the dresser, surprised to see a recent picture of Violet and Neville, arms around each other in the backdrop of what looked like the Gryffindor common room. They were both laughing and looking like they were having a grand time, but Harry could see the shadow in both of their eyes.

There was one picture, however, that was not proudly displayed. He would’ve missed it if he hadn’t been looking at the picture of Violet and Neville. One was turned down so that only the backing was visible, leaving the framed picture to be suffocated by the dresser. Curious, Harry had been about lift the picture back to its rightful position when he was filled with a sudden sense of doubt. This picture was hidden away from sight for a reason.

Curiosity had always gotten the best of him.

It didn’t look all that remarkable to him. It was just a picture of Violet and another girl, apparently baking something –though it didn’t look like they were getting much baking done. Rather, complete chaos and a massive food fight were getting underway. Violet had the bowl, and she was flinging huge amounts of batter at her friend, who was trying to defend herself with a pan in front of her face. Occasionally, the friend would grab stray batter clinging to the counter and walls and throw it back at Violet until they were both thoroughly covered in batter, flour, and sugar.

Harry smirked. They looked like they were having fun. But why would Violet hide this picture?

Something, a hint of magic in the air, attempted to answer his question. He stared at her dresser, sensing something amiss there. He hesitated for a moment before tentatively opening it, blushing furiously as he was bombarded with the sight of bras and underwear –he almost gave up on that nagging feeling right then and there. He’d only been sent to wake her up, not invade her privacy.

But he knew that this wasn’t right. Though he could feel his face practically burning up, instinct and doubt inclined him to search more thoroughly; he gently pushed her clothes aside, only to find several empty and full potions bottles at the bottom of the drawer.

Feeling apprehensive, he picked up a bottle and read the large letters in the front: Dreamless Sleeping Potion: Strong Dose. Near the bottom was a warning label: WARNING: Extensive use of this product for more than four times consecutively without healer supervision or a counter-potion to counteract the negative effects of this product may result in an addiction or serious harm. Advised to use three times a week at most. If any suspicious side effects occur, contact your healer immediately.

Harry froze. So this is why she was out cold. “Extensive use of this product for more than four times consecutively…may result in an addiction…� This didn’t bode well for Violet, especially since it had been more than four days since the Dementor incident. Silently, Harry counted six empty bottles –one for every night except for the first. But how did she get so many of these? Before he could muse over it more, a sharp, threatening hiss issued from behind him.

Spinning around, Harry gaped. How could he not have noticed that when he had first walked into the room?

The glaring serpent behind the glass cage eyed him with intense scrutiny, prompting him to hesitantly approach it. Why would Violet, a proud Gryffindor, want a snake for a pet? More importantly, why would James and Lily Potter, arguably the most anti-Voldemort couple in Britain, allow a creature so intimately associated with Voldemort reside in their home?

Harry froze. Violet couldn’t be a Parseltongue, could she? No; that’s impossible. There’s no way she could have gotten that ability. Well, there was one way to find out. Taking a glance at Violet’s still form, he made his way over to the snake, ignoring the suspicion in its fierce gaze.

“Has Violet ever spoken to you?�

The snake seemed taken aback, and its razor eyes, so like Voldemort’s, expressed wariness. “You speak the ancient language of the serpents?�

“Yes, but I only found out I could a few years ago,� Harry admitted. “Can Violet speak the noble language as well?� Flattery always worked.

“No, she cannot. But you’ve never spoken to me before either, and yet here you are, speaking in my tongue.�

He decided to change the subject. “Why were you hissing at me?�

“You were invading my mistress’s privacy.�

“I was worried. She is taking a potentially dangerous potion.�

Harry could have sworn he saw a flicker of concern in the snake’s otherwise expressionless eyes. “Is there anything I can do to help?� it asked finally.

“You could help me wake her up,� Harry suggested. “No biting, though.� The snake nodded and inclined its head at the top of its cage. After he’d removed the ceiling of the snake’s small habitat, all he had to do was stand back and watch. He wasn’t exactly sure what it planned on doing as it slithered out of sight beneath the covers, but whatever it was, it worked. Harry had to clasped his hands over his ears as a high pitch screamed filled his ears. She must have been terrified, but he couldn’t help but smile, feeling a slight vindication for Violet’s earlier prank.

Violet immediately leapt out of bed and, upon seeing Harry, seized his shoulders and hid behind him. “Harry!� she shrieked. “There’s a spider or something in my covers! I felt something slide past me! Get it!�

Harry frowned –snakes and spiders didn’t move or feel the same. Apparently, Violet had stronger arachnophobia than Ron if she was convinced her own pet snake was a spider. “Relax, Vi, it’s just your snake,� Harry reassured her, pausing as he realized that he’d used her nickname.

But he didn’t have long to ponder it because a very hard punch sent a throbbing pain through his shoulder. “Ow! What’d you do that for?�

“For scaring the living hell out of me.�

“Sorry, but you weren’t waking up.� Which reminded him – “Oh, and I found this lying around.� He waved the Dreamless Sleep Potion in front of her face. “Care to explain this?�

Violet’s expression immediately hardened at the sight of the potion. “That’s none of your business.�

“It becomes my business if you’re addicted to these things,� Harry countered, pointing at the warning label. “Or did you not bother to read it before chugging it for six nights straight?�

Violet’s lips twisted. Leaning close to Harry, he could see her eyes change from mischievousness to absolute viciousness. “You keep my secret, and I’ll keep yours,� she growled. But there was a hint of hurt in her voice that paused his tongue. But –

Harry looked at her in confusion, slightly worried. What secret was she talking about? Was it concerning this place’s Harry, or him?

“Listen,� he said, trying to pacify her anger. “I’m sorry, all right? I was just worried when you wouldn’t even respond to anything; I’d thought you’d died!�

The fury dissipated from her face, morphing into apologetic regret. “Sorry, Harry, I didn’t know.�

Harry sighed, reigning back in his emotions. “It’s okay. Just –just promise me that you won’t take this stuff anymore, or I’ll tell Li –Mum.� He bit his lip. He knew he probably won’t be here much longer once he finds out a way to get back to his own world. Though he was reluctant to get close to these people, it seemed that he was still managing to do a good job of getting to know them.

Damn.

“Mind getting out of my room before I change, you prat?� Violet asked with a hint of her usual mischievousness.

She laughed heartily at his expression. Rolling his eyes, Harry left the room feeling as if he’d helped her in some capacity, and closed the door softly behind him.

But the moment she heard the door close, Violet’s smile disappeared.

* * *

Tap. Tap.

“Let the owl in, will you, Harry?� James asked without looking up, thoroughly engrossed in the Daily Prophet.

He obliged, but he couldn’t hide from himself the slight leap of hope that Ron, Hermione, anybody familiar had owled him saying that they too were confused, that they didn’t know what was going on, or even better –that they did know what was happening. But he recognized the owl immediately, and unless a member of the Hogwarts staff had been transported here as well, the envelopes the owl carried would be purely business.

And sure enough, the barn owl dropped one thick envelope in front of Violet and held the other out to Harry, who stroked the owl’s head affectionately. He felt a sudden pang of nostalgia for Hedwig, missing her familiarity. She’d been his first friend in the wizarding world, after all.

“Hogwarts letters!� Violet immediately tore hers apart.

Harry too opened his, albeit a bit more ceremoniously. Inside was the usual letter, but with an additional paragraph at the end:

Due to recent events and possible Death Eater threats, we understand if you choose not to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year. This decision is at your discretion; however, please keep in mind that this decision will affect your education in the future, and though you are welcome to come back after the war is over, we recommend that you learn as much as possible about defending yourself. Thus, our curriculum this year will emphasize self-defense as well as counter-jinxes/curses. Please be sure to owl with your decision as to whether or not Hogwarts shall expect you come September 1st.

Professor Minerva McGonagall
Headmistress

Headmistress? Harry mused. But, that means –

It means that Dumbledore’s dead here too.

His heart sank. Could this get any worse? He was hoping that Professor Dumbledore would be able to help him here. It looks as if he’s really was on his own after all. There aren’t any reliable people Harry can turn to now; McGonagall might, but really, how could he be sure? He’ll just have to rely on himself for now, and pick up information on the way. As Dream Sirius had said in that one disturbing nightmare: “Sometimes you just have to be patient and let things run its course.�

“Well, we’d better stop by Diagon Alley today to buy all your supplies,� Lily said, taking the supply list from her daughter and examining it carefully.

Harry wasn’t listening; he was too busy staring at something –well, two somethings. He smiled at the shiny Quidditch captain badge, but his eyes went wide when he also gingerly plucked another golden badge; this time, it had “Head Boy� engraved in it.

Even though this wasn’t his world, he couldn’t help but be pleasantly surprised about this. Unfortunately, before he could process the implications of the advantages he would enjoy while trying to figure out this mystery, Violet had leaned over and noticed the badge as well.

“You got Head Boy?� she exclaimed, clearly as surprised as he was. “But who in the right mind would make you an authority?�

“Well, your Mum and I were Head Boy and Girl when we were in Hogwarts, and I was one of the worst pranksters around,� James reminded her. “Which wasn’t that long ago, mind you.�

Violet looked thoughtful, but then seemed to come upon a disgusting sort of revelation, for she wrinkled her nose and said emphatically, “Ew.�

But Lily was too busy tightly embracing Harry with bright eyes to notice, beaming at him in pride. “Congratulations on making Head Boy Harry! I’m so proud of you!�

“Er –thanks.� Harry replied uncertainly, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. It wasn’t like he’d actually done anything here, especially if the prophecy had been reversed.

James grinned, noticing the look on Harry’s face. “I think Harry here is a bit embarrassed, Lils.�

“That’s too bad, because we’re going to have a nice celebration –James, you ought to invite Sirius and them.�

Harry’s stomach sank, definitely not looking forward to that part. He wasn’t sure if he could deal with seeing Sirius again, especially after that dream. And he seriously doubted if he could control himself if Pettigrew came; it would take a lot of self-control to not hex him right then and there.

But that’d look a tad suspicious.

Meanwhile, Lily was reading Violet’s Hogwarts letter, frowning. “Looks like we’ll have to tell Minerva you’re still coming,� she said. With a wave of her finger, she conjured a quill, a bottle of jet black ink, and a piece of parchment, inscribing her letter.

Violet giggled as Lily rolled up the parchment magically.

“Forgot to add the reassurance that we’ll behave, did you?� she teased, grinning widely.

Lily gave a deliberate, long suffering sigh. “Well, can’t very well guarantee that any longer, can I? Not a baby anymore.� She pinched Violet’s cheeks playfully.

“Mum, the guarantee ended when I started first year,� Violet pointed out. “Harry hovered around me too much for my own good.�

“He’s just being protective.�

Harry looked up, frowning. Was he overprotective and overbearing like Ron? Did he get angry when Violet dated people? He cringed, remembering Ron’s outrage when Dean Thomas had been dating Ginny. Of course, he himself hadn’t exactly been innocent of that either –

Still, he believed that he’d had an extremely justified reason for resentment towards Dean –it hadn’t really mattered that he was a perfectly nice guy the rest of the time, when he wasn’t with Ginny romantically.

He felt comfortable, reluctantly finding himself at ease with this family routine that had become a part of his life. However, he couldn’t help but be bothered about how normal Violet seemed when the night before she had been taking a Dreamless Sleeping Potion. This, like many things here, didn’t feel right.

Harry sighed and took a bite of his toast. Sometimes things were better off left alone.

* * *

Harry clutched his wand tightly in his right pocket. Diagon Alley had never looked so painfully desolate.

He remembered last year, when he went shopping with the Weasleys; despite the fear then, it hadn’t been as bad as this. It wasn’t the forlorn atmosphere that bothered him –on the contrary, it was quite busy. No, it was the way people huddled in packs, the way everyone had their heads bent down, trying not to draw attention. It was way no one stopped to greet friends and acquaintances because they didn’t dare look up in fear of seeing a Death Eater, out to torture, maim, and kill.

It was the way that fear engulfed them all.

Aurors patrolled the streets, occasionally stopping “suspicious looking blokes� and questioning them. Not once did the Potters get stopped, although when they passed by the other Aurors, they waved to Lily and James, greeting them. Harry did a double take when he spotted Tonks, who was as effervescent as ever, the only smiling, confident person in the entire alley. He smiled to himself, wondering if Tonks and Lupin were together here.

Despite looking as if she were on Auror duty, Tonks still made her way towards them once they had been noticed. “Wotcher Potters,� she said cheerfully.

Harry grinned despite himself. It was nice to hear something that was familiar to him.

“Hey Tonks. On duty?�

She nodded grimly. “Yeah, but it’s hard to see how much a wreck this place has become. You never hear any laughter anymore.�

James nodded. “I know –it’s almost unnerving. How’s Remus doing? I wish I could’ve been there with him but Auror duty got in the way –�

Tonks glanced around to make sure no one was too close to them and dropped her voice considerably. “He’s fine. He had a few pretty bad cuts, but it was able to mend no problem. With Snape –you know– gone, he’s had to readjust to nights without Wolfsbane.�

Harry glanced quickly at his sister, her unsurprised expression telling him that she, too, knew Remus’s secret. Although, he remembered, it probably wasn’t much of a secret anymore, considering how that traitorous bat had revealed it third year.

“Well, better get back to patrolling before Kingsley gets on my arse for ‘idling around.’� She glanced around reluctantly, grimacing.

“We’ll see you later then, Nymphadora.�

“Only Remus and my mother can call me that, Prongs.� Smirking, she turned on her heel, throwing back a wave behind her.

Watching Tonks’s retreating back, Harry suddenly had a burst of inspiration. “Can we go to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes?�

Harry tried not to get his hopes up too high. It wasn’t likely that Ron and Ginny would be there at the exact same time Harry was, but at least he could try to get some info from the twins, who would surely be there.

Lily’s sharp green eyes stopped scanning the area to rest on Harry, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, did you say? Never heard of it.�

“Never mind,� Harry said quickly. “I think Fred and George were talking about opening up a joke shop or something. Sorry, must have gotten mixed up.�

“Yeah, I remember them mention that too,� Violet piped in helpfully. “Too bad they couldn’t get the gold to actually open it, though. The stuff they were selling on those order forms was brilliant.�

“Which, of course, you didn’t buy.�

“Yeah, of course,� Violet added quickly, catching James’s eye and grinning.

“For Merlin’s sake, James, you didn’t order them too!� Lily said loudly, attracting stares from passerbies. If Diagon Alley had been whole and full of noise, nobody would have noticed. However, with the atmosphere full of a fearful silence, her indoor voice sounded like Bagman’s booming commentary projected with the Sonorous Charm.

To respond, Lily irritably glared at the people staring. “What, you’ve never heard a scolding before? Shove off before I arrest all of you!�

At Lily’s threat, the halting groups went back on their way, their swift steps significantly quicker now.

“Lily dear, didn’t you read the section of the Auror manual about, er –‘the abuse of your position as an officer of justice?’�

“You remember the exact line from the manual?�

“Not exactly. But that was the gist of it.� James eyed the street warily. “We’d better get a move on, then, if we’re going to finish all this shopping,� he explained casually. But Harry knew better.

Even the tinted sky looked foreboding.

* * *

Purchases weighing down their bags considerably, they stepped out of Flourish and Blotts with their new school books, every box on Lily’s checklist marked off.

“Ready then?� James asked, eyeing the steadily darkening sky. Attacks weren’t frequent in Diagon Alley, but he couldn’t help but be grateful that nothing bad had happened.

CRACK. A bolt of red flashed past James and hit Flourish and Blotts, sending a few bricks crumbling to the ground.

“GET DOWN!� James bellowed as he pulled his wand out, shoving Harry behind him.

“We have to get to the Ministry for backup!� Lily said urgently, sending a stunner in the direction of the approaching hooded figure.

James swore loudly, torn between getting the severely needed reinforcements, helping the screaming shoppers fleeing in terror, and ensuring the safety of his children.

But before they could decide what to do, a powerful dust cloud swept them up, separating the Potter family. James cried out in pain as he was thrown into a wall, the bricks groaning in protest. He fell to the floor hard, but struggled to get up, wand out and attempting to blink the dust out of his distorted vision. Luckily his glasses had managed to stay on the bridge of his nose.

“Protego,� he muttered, trying to buy himself some time while his vision sorted out. As the blurred figures became sharper, James found a masked Death Eater fruitlessly trying to break his shield.

James grinned, feeling a rush of adrenaline pumping through his veins. Despite their inhuman masks, it was only a man beneath the dark robes –a man who was in the way of him finding his family, an obstacle.

Well, he won’t be one anymore.

* * *

“Accio Harry!�

Harry’s stomach lurched as he felt himself lifting up from the ground and being summoned towards the voice. Suddenly, the spell dropped him down abruptly. “Ouch,� he muttered, extending the wand clutched in his hand towards the shadow above him.

“Sorry, big brother, but seeing as you were an unconscious lump of a log...� Violet apologized, giving him a hand up after putting a shield around them.

“How many?�

“I dunno –maybe twenty?�

“Twenty? Just for Diagon Alley?�

“Yeah, but not in this area. Lot of ‘em scattered to chase down people and trash the shops I guess.�

Suddenly, the shield faltered, its bright light flickering until it died away. Harry turned to ask what happened when he noticed Violet’s ashen expression. The only time he had seen her like that was –

Harry felt it too, prickling at the back of his neck. Without thinking, he spun around and sent Prongs out to chase the lone Dementor away.

As the slight mist cleared, Harry was able too see three Death Eaters headed their way.

“STUPEFY!�

Harry saw the returning curses coming –he pushed Violet to the ground as a Cutting Curse sailed above their heads, scrambling to get back on his feet again.

With the blink of an eye, the Death Eaters Apparated right in front of them. Harry cursed as he flicked his wand, thinking Levicorpus in his head, but he was a split second too late.

“Expelliarmus!� BANG. Before Harry could react, the second Death Eater’s wand flew out of his hand and he was hanging upside down in the air, appearing to be caught in a hook on his right leg.

“Accio wand!� Violet shouted shakily. It had been she who had disarmed the Death Eater. Once the Death Eater’s wand flew into her hand, she efficiently snapped it in half, ignoring he Death Eater’s strangled cry. “Serves you right,� Violet spat. Harry spotted the third Death Eater fleeing into an alleyway –he quickly sent a Stunner towards him, but missed. He made to go after him, but Violet’s hand clenched onto his arm firmly.

“There’s someone else.�

Distant screams echoed from behind him. Harry quickly spun back around to see a new, taller Death Eater glide over to them gracefully, her robes billowing out behind her. There was something feminine in the way she carried herself, and he easily recognized the arrogance in her walk –she was a far greater threat the others.

“Ah. Potter spawn.�

Harry gripped his wand, his suspicions confirmed. He knew that voice, the sadistic laugh that had crowed at seeing his godfather fall –

There was no way he was going to allow Bellatrix Lestrange to kill again.

Sectumsempra! But Bellatrix negated the Half-Blood Prince’s curse with a wave of her wand. “Tsk, tsk, baby Potter, I can read your moves like an open book. Weak and emotional, like your interfering parents and cousin of mine.�

He hated that stupid falsetto baby voice with a passion, but he also knew that she was lying. He had been working especially hard on his mental shields ever since he got here, and he hadn’t felt anyone reach too far into his mind. Maybe she had gotten past his defenses for a single spell, but no further.

He smiled.

“Expelliarmus! Protego! Stupefy! Impedimenta! Diffindo!� Harry shouted, one after the other in quick succession, his feet moving on their own as he maneuvered past the light of her spells. His last curse hit Bellatrix squarely in the chest, slowing her movements before Harry sent a Cutting Curse directly at her.

Bellatrix recovered from the spell in time to lessen the lethal slice of magic aimed towards her face. Still, diffindo had cracked her mask down the middle, the lingering magic finishing the curse with a touch of melodrama. It split into two equal parts and delicately fell off her face, kicking up stray dust as it hit the ground.

“Bellatrix Lestrange?!�

Harry saw Violet’s shocked, angry face out of the corner of his eye. A cruel smile twisted Bellatrix’s sunken features, the sadistic glint in her eyes negating any kind of beauty she may have retained. He frowned as he felt Violet’s feet shuffle beside him, surprised at the charge of magic surrounding her. His sister had most likely never met Bellatrix –if she had, she would have recognized her distinct voice immediately. Where was this rage coming from?

“Bitch!� Violet sneered as she threw her own Cutting Curse at Bellatrix. But she wasn’t focused, and her target was able to dodge the spell with ease.

“Aww, did I make little Potter mad? You’re not going to throw a tantrum on me, are you? Perhaps chuck a stuffed animal in my direction?� Bellatrix’s lips curled as she soaked in the desired effect she was having on Violet, who was practically boiling with rage.

Levicorpus! Harry thought while Bellatrix was distracted. BANG! Harry turned around and sent Violet a warning look. After he had disarmed Bellatrix, Harry demanded, “Why are you lot here? Looking for some fun, were you?� His fingers were itching to cause her pain, but he suppressed the urge. He wasn’t going to sink to her level.

“You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you, baby Potter?�

He didn’t like her tone. Her carefree arrogance suggested that she was in charge, that they were at her mercy and not the other way around. Feeling unnerved, he forced himself to stay cautious, to keep his ears open to approaching footsteps and dangerous spells.

“Maybe the blood’s rushing to her head too fast,� Violet suggested coldly. “Can I fix that?�

“No.�

“Please, Harry?� she asked again, though her steady steps towards Bellatrix meant that she didn’t really care for Harry’s permission.

“Don’t make me stun you!� Harry shouted warningly, making his first fatal mistake by turning his back completely on his captive. Violet’s eyes widened and she had already shouted the incantation before Harry had time to react.

“CRUCIO!� Violet screamed, sending Bellatrix backwards and knocking away her wand yet again, which she had recovered using Wandless Magic.

Harry had about one and a half second’s relief. When he had attempted that curse on Bellatrix out of vindicated fury and grief, it had only thrown her backwards because, according to her, he had to like causing pain and watching others suffer for the fun of it.

But his relief suddenly turned to horror as he witnessed Bellatrix writhing on the ground, her muffled screams and long, yellow fingernails tearing at her own flesh –

He turned to Violet, who wore a satisfied smirk, eyes glinting with the same look Bellatrix’s had possessed only moments before.

He didn’t know why he did what he did; it certainly wasn’t for Bellatrix’s sake. All that mattered as to efface that scarily pleased smile off Violet’s face –besides, Bellatrix was no good to them as a shell. Harry shoved Violet aside, cutting off her concentration and leaving her victim twitching on the ground. But as his eyes trained back on her, he was disgusted to find that after panting a little and wiping the blood trickling down her chin, Bellatrix seemed unusually unfazed. He wasn’t sure if Violet’s spell just hadn’t been powerful enough –or if she had actually liked the pain.

Sure enough, she was beginning to rise, grinning mockingly. Just as he had been about to stun her, he felt someone push him from behind.

“Why did you stop me?!� Violet demanded, her face contorted in anger.

“Later,� Harry said, ignoring Violet’s incoming protests and preparing to stun Bellatrix when something red shined in the corner of Harry’s eye.

“Move!� he ordered, shoving her once again out of the way of incoming danger. Disorientated, Harry couldn’t see anything. Then he realized that there was red smoke all around them.

“Stupefy! Stupefy! STUPEFY!� he shouted, shooting them in random directions. There was no way he was going to let Bellatrix go now; how many more lives will she take? But most importantly, Harry wanted to see Sirius’s murderer brought to justice.

“Where are you, damn it!� Gaze fiery, he turned to Violet. “If you’re going to mess things up, help me get her again!�

Violet nodded timidly, all fire and arrogance gone. Together, they randomly sent stunners into the blood colored haze. But it had completely blanketed itself around them; it was starting to feel almost solid. As it grew thicker, Harry found that it became harder to breathe, that something seemed to be compressing on his chest, that the distance his stunners traveled seemed to be decreasing.

“Screw this,� Harry muttered. “Reducto!� His spell gave them a clear path out of the eerily opaque area, but by the time they got out, all trace of both Bellatrix and the stunned and hanging Death Eaters was gone.

Harry swore loudly, not caring who heard. How could she have gotten away? How could maniacs like her run free while people he loved had died? His fists clenched, he angrily turned to Violet.

“What the bloody hell is wrong with you? You just let her get away! Can’t you control your temper?� He remembered his own anger in Dumbledore’s office, how he had thrown and kicked and raged –he remembered how empty he’d felt when all the damage had been done. “Why?� he asked quietly, suddenly too tired to feel bad about the hint of tears welling in Violet’s eyes. It faintly reminded Harry of first year, when Ron’s comment had made Hermione cry –though this was an entirely different situation altogether.

“You –you don’t know who she is, do you?� Violet asked quietly.

“Yeah, actually, I do,� Harry answered roughly. “Bellatrix Lestrange.� Sirius’s murderer.

“No kidding,� she said sarcastically. “I wasn’t sure if you knew –only reason I know is because I overheard some Aurors talking about it after the major Azkaban breakout –�

“What is it?� Harry interrupted, irritation rising again.

“She –Bellatrix Lestrange –she was one of the people who tortured Mum and Dad after Neville defeated Voldemort. Mum was pregnant with me, but that didn’t stop them. Guess after it was over, she was afraid they’d killed me or something…� Violet never quite met Harry’s eyes. “Lucky, really, that Uncle Sirius and Uncle Remus were there –they’d gotten careless, you know, didn’t do the proper reconnaissance to know that they were in the area, really close. I think the Aurors said they’d gone out for take out and came back just in time to save Mum ‘n Dad –and me. Oh, and she’s Uncle Sirius’s cousin too –he really hates her, though I guess they were close when they were younger, before he chose the ‘blood traitors’ over them.�

Harry stared at her for a moment. So the Potters –like the Longbottoms –had been tortured by Bellatrix and her gang? But unlike the Longbottoms, they hadn’t been tortured to insanity. He frowned; the timeline didn’t match if Lily had been pregnant with Violet –unless they had been attacked later than Neville’s parents. But that didn’t matter right now; despite whatever her reasons were, she still let Bellatrix get away.

“Sectumsempra!� A familiar voice echoed from somewhere to their right, in an alley. The siblings glanced at each other and took off running, quarrel forgotten.

When they skidded around the corner, wands out, they came upon a sickening sight. A girl lay crumpled on the ground, short, panicked gasps replacing her breath as the blood spilled from the pores of her face and upper body, creating a crimson pool around her. The girl’s dark complexion was now almost completely covered in blood; he focused on her face, and recognized her.

Parvati Patil.

In a matter of seconds he had surveyed the situation, trying to stay calm as he noted Parvati’s bleeding body and the Death Eater standing off to the side, his back to them. The monster seemed not to have noticed them, standing completely still and watching Parvati die, probably even enjoying it.

That is, until Harry noticed the figure’s slumped shoulders and trembling hands, the discarded wand lying abandoned on the ground.

Quietly, Harry stunned the Death Eater, who hadn’t bothered to fight back, merely accepting the immobility. This behavior puzzled him, but he pushed his confusion aside as he walked over to Parvati. “Watch him,� he told Violet, who nodded and kicked the Death Eater’s wand off to the side, training her own on him.

“Parvati?� Harry whispered, kneeling down next to her.

“H –Harry?� Parvati gasped, her voice rattling. She was close to death. “T –tell my p –parents…� She shuddered, unable to say much more. But she still attempted to give her message. “I t –tried to stop –Padma…Padma, she’s…� Her eyes shifted to the side; Harry followed her gaze to see her twin’s broken body lying at the far end of the alley.

“Tell them yourself,� Harry told her sternly, voice breaking, a horrible knot twisting him inside. He’d been housemates, classmates, with Parvati for six years; Padma had been Ron’s date to the Yule Ball –that meant something. Think, Harry, think! Harry suddenly remembered Malfoy, bleeding on the floor of Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, his wounds exactly like Parvati’s –and Snape, healing him somehow, with an incantation, but what was it? Damn it, he couldn’t remember!

Harry’s wand hovered over Parvati’s face, willing his magic to heal her. Nothing happened. “C’mon!� he urged his wand, closing his eyes and trying again, thinking hard. Heal her, help her, make her well again, close the wounds, fix them, reverse Sectumsempra…Harry looked down a his wand in surprise.

A golden glow had issued from his wand, completely unlike what Snape had done, and the bleeding stopped. A warm feeling –hope– bubbled inside of him, as he repeated reverse Sectumsempra, reverse Sectumsempra, over and over again, concentrating hard on tapping the stores of magic inside both himself and his wand until the wounds had completely closed, until the only remnant of what had been done to her were the streaks of blood on her face. After he had finished, he moved on to the wounds on her chest, knowing that there was no time to pause and be embarrassed about where he was healing. At last, he’d closed up her remaining wounds, and sat back, extremely drained.

“Parvati?�

She tried to smile at him, but she still looked really weak. He must have looked puzzled, because Violet explained quietly, “She’s lost a lot of blood.�

Harry bit his lip, knowing they’d have to get her to St. Mungo’s soon, before she dies. He found himself gazing at Padma’s still body on the far side of the alley. “Watch her,� he told Violet, who nodded grimly and recast the Stunning Spell on the Death Eater, just in case the original spell was weakening.

Glass crunched underneath Harry’s shoes as he walked over the remains of telescopes and crystal balls, and he carefully evaded the various textbooks littered on the ground. After what felt like an eternity, he reached Padma.

There was no blood. The cuts and burns on her face, however, were definite signs of a struggle, and that she hadn’t gone down without a fight. He didn’t need to feel her pulse to know that she was dead; it wasn’t the awkward, broken position of her body or the icy quality of her skin. No, it was the eyes –wide open, forever petrified with fear and regret.

Padma’s death had been swift and clean, unlike Parvati’s sadistic assailant, which led Harry to believe that there had been two Death Eaters; for whatever reason, one had lingered. Harry closed Padma’s eyes and stood up, fists clenched, eyes blazing. He felt a strange sort of vindication, remembering Cedric.

He had been young too.

“Harry –� Violet protested, but Harry shoved her aside. Pushing the Death Eater up against the wall, he stepped on his feet, pointed his wand in his face, and removed the mask.

As the guise fell away, Harry suddenly reeled back in shock, though instinct kept his wand pointing at the man –boy, really. Without something to hold him up, the stunned Death Eater slumped to the ground, his white-blonde hair falling into his eyes.

“Malfoy?�

“Malfoy?�

He couldn’t believe this. Having experienced his cruelty first hand, he knew Malfoy was a slimeball –but he’d never thought Malfoy would be capable of such brutality, the disgusting Slytherin he is. Because of that fateful night, Harry had doubted his classmate’s lack of redemption, for Malfoy had not been able to kill Dumbledore. He had been about to make his own choice, the right one.

Malfoy seemed shaken by the scene before him. Maybe somewhere on his frozen, Stunned expression, there was regret.

Harry didn’t think Malfoy attacked both the Patils, which meant that another Death Eater or two could be lurking around. It wasn’t safe to linger; if the Death Eaters found them there, they’d be sitting ducks. Besides, Parvati needed medical attention now.

“Can you levitate objects yet, like people?� Harry asked Violet suddenly. She seemed surprised at first by the brisk, hard tone in his voice and shook her head. “Just say ‘Locomotor’ and the object you want to levitate.�

After her confirming nod, Harry turned to Malfoy and Parvati. “Locomotor Parvati and Malfoy!� he said clearly, and waited for Violet to levitate Padma’s body.

“What are we doing Harry? There are Death Eaters out there!�

“Aurors, too. Got a good chance that we’ll run into one of the good guys. If not, we’ll drop these three –Parvati gently –and fight them off, make so much noise that the Aurors can’t not hear us. We’re levitating people; we can’t escape to Muggle London to find St. Mungo’s ourselves,� he added, cutting off her incoming question.

Violet bit her lip but didn’t argue.

“C’mon, got to be careful.� Harry walked in front of his charges and checked the street carefully. “Looks clear. Be ready to put up a Shield Charm.� Harry knew that a mere Shield Charm would not stop an Unforgivable Curse, but Parvati was fading fast, and it was a risk he was willing to take.

They crept alongside the scarred brick walls, trying to stay in the shadows. It was hard trying to maneuver their charges and stay relatively hidden at the same time, but they managed.

Harry tapped on Violet’s shoulder and indicated the next alleyway, hoping to cut into a different –and hopefully Death Eater free –area of Diagon alley. Once they were safely in the median, Harry took one second to turn his head to make sure Violet was okay when a large pair of hands suddenly grabbed his shoulder.

“Protego!� he shouted, sending the person rebounding into the street, where Harry got a good luck at him. He sighed in relief when the man lacked the traits of a Death Eater, though a scowl remained on his face. Still, one could never be too careful . . .

Harry raised his wand and pointed it at the man. “You a Death Eater?� he asked, allowing his eyes to scan the area for any others.

“No,� the man said coldly. “You’re the one with the floating bodies, little boy. You kill ‘em all?�

Violet bristled in indignation, insulted. “We saved them, you dolt. Do we look like Death Eaters? Well,� she sobered up a bit, “she was already dead. That one’s barely alive, and the one in dark robes is a Death Eater we found at the scene. Who’re you?�

“Auror,� the man said warily, casually standing up.

“Prove it,� Violet demanded, carefully putting down Padma’s body and pointing her wand at him too.

He scowled at her, as if unable to comprehend that this insolent little girl wasn’t listening to an authority, especially if they were allies. He pointed to his robes, which had the Auror crest emblazoned on it. While one hand was doing that, the other was casually drifting to his pocket –

“Expelliarmus!� Harry shouted, shooting the wand that had slipped partway into the man’s hand onto the other side of the sidewalk. “Stay where you are!� he roared as the man turned to retrieve it. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t stop.

“Stupefy!� The man crumpled to the ground. “Keep an eye on them,� he told Violet, going over to examine the man more carefully. He began examining the inner pockets of the robe, looking for some identification of some sort. Ah-ha, he thought as he picked up an I.D. However, he frowned, realizing that the face in the picture didn’t match the man lying on the ground.

“Bloody hell,� he muttered, realizing that they’d almost been tricked. This Death Eater obviously wasn’t being too cautious if he hadn’t changed the picture on the I.D. Could no one be trusted here? Guess they can’t just rely on finding someone who looks like an Auror anymore . . . they’d have to find someone that they recognized, like Kingsley, Tonks or his parents.

Harry involuntarily ran a hand through his disheveled hair, brushing some dust into his face. His fingers flexed involuntarily, irritated with the situation and his helplessness, his reliance on dumb luck. He deliberated for a few seconds about what to do with the Death Eater. He couldn’t just leave him here; there was no telling whether or not he would come after them again, and letting him rejoin his mates wasn’t an option.

Harry sighed. Looks like they’ve got another one in tow, then.

CRUNCH.

“Stupefy!� The red beam rebounded back at Harry, which he dodged easily.

“IMPEDIMENTA!� Harry bellowed, sending sparks in the rough location of the voice. “Run, Violet!� With a flick of his wand, he re-levitated Parvati and Malfoy before running right on Violet’s heel, shouting various curses behind him every few seconds.

They raced up the dark alley, the aged bricks surrounding them seeming to stretch on forever. Harry felt his own exhaustion from maintaining the levitation, but he couldn’t leave them there, not with their pursuers right behind them.

Even through the adrenaline, Harry could hear the stampeding footsteps advancing on them. Damn it! They were vulnerable in this narrow area. Thinking fast, Harry quickly flicked his wand at claustrophobic walls around them, sending the bricks crashing down in a huge cloud of dust. Harry held his breath as long as he could until they cleared the dust –he almost thought that they were out of the danger zone.

Almost.

Just as they finally reached the end of the alley, a flash of numerous dark robes blocked their way, at least four wands aimed in their direction. Anticipating what was going to happen, Harry shouted “PROTEGO,� manipulating the shield to appear further up, in front of Violet. Following his lead, Violet placed a shield of her own to strengthen their defense.

A blindingly red blast of various stunners came their way, ricocheting off the combination of their two shields. Harry was trying to think: how were they going to get past all of those Death Eaters, especially handicapped with their charges? He had half a mind to drop them all there and save Violet and himself (he really wouldn’t mind leaving Malfoy behind) –but he remembered Padma’s vacated eyes and Parvati’s failing condition. No, he could not leave them in the hands of these people in good conscience.

“The shield’s faltering!�

“PROTEGO! Keep redoing it!� Harry shouted back, his throat aching and ears throbbing from the shrill of spells hitting the shield.

For what seemed like forever, it had become an exhausting exchange of spells bouncing off the shield, which kept on being reapplied. Even though they had ceased levitating their charges long ago, Harry felt both magically and physically drained. He wasn’t sure if his endurance would outlast that of the more numerous others at the end of the obscure alley.

Finally, the spells stopped coming. Harry allowed his arm to rest at his side, but kept his senses ready for quick action if needed. All of his muscles ached in protest of the constant spellwork and battles; he doubted that he and Violet could last through another barrage of spells. Slightly in front of him, Violet, too, was breathing heavily, her legs shaking slightly. She looked like she was going to collapse any second.

“Put your wands on the ground!� A loud, booming voice echoed in the alley. “I repeat: put your wands on the ground!�

“You put your wands on the ground!� Harry retorted, unsure if they could even distinguish his words through his hoarse voice. He knew his comeback was a little childish, but honestly, he was too tired to think of anything better. Like hell he was going to disarm himself willingly; what a bunch of sodding idiots.

The boom was back. “Identify yourselves!�

Harry frowned. These guys sounded like Aurors; but then again, so did the Stunned lump lying on the floor, and he ended up being a Death Eater. But still, could all those people be Death Eaters in disguise? Well, better be safe than sorry.

“Identify yourselves!�

A pause. Harry could practically hear their impatience as the still air broke with the vibrations of the Sonorus spell. “The Dark Wizard Catching Task Force orders you to identify yourselves immediately or face the consequences!�

Why can’t they just say “Aurors�? Harry found himself wondering somewhat deliriously. His head was starting to throb; but he needed proof. Would it hurt if he gave away his name? It’s not like Voldemort wanted Harry’s head on a platter in this world, place, whatever. Still, the risk was high that retaliation would come . . .

“We’re Hogwarts students!�

Harry looked at Violet sharply, but she merely gave him a look clearly stating that she knew what she was doing. At least, he hoped she did. Harry listened closely to her words, prepared to jump in if needed.

“We were shopping for school supplies and got caught up in this.�

She turned around to Harry, hesitating, unsure of what to say next. Guess she didn’t really know what she was doing beyond that point. Harry narrowed his eyes in the direction of the supposed Aurors as more footsteps advanced towards them, probably reinforcements.

“We found two girls in an alley; the Death Eaters had already gotten to them. One’s dead.� Harry continued loudly, careful with his words. He got Violet’s attention and tilted his head at their two Death Eater prisoners, trying to get her to block them from view. If these Aurors were fakes, he didn’t want them to know that they had two of their own captive.

“HARRY?�

His head immediately snapped his head back towards the Aurors, surprised that someone had recognized his voice. Surely they couldn’t see them very well through the hazy surface of the shield? He didn’t respond immediately, but squinted at the shadows. Vaguely, he could make out two shadows trying to part the others, fighting its way towards them.

“HARRY JAMES POTTER, LOWER THAT SHIELD RIGHT NOW!�

He cringed involuntarily, immediately recognizing the new female voice. Well, that settled it; these people were definitely Aurors. Harry flicked his wand, canceling whatever was left of both his and Violet’s weakened defense. However, despite his reassurances that no one else in the world, Polyjuice or no, could put that much anger and maternal relief into Lily Potter’s voice but Lily Potter, instinct still kept Harry’s grip on his wand tight, prepared for any sign of trouble.

Lily and James Potter, who had been part of the reinforcements Harry had heard approaching, rushed over to their children, though the four bodies lying near them did not escape their notice.

Before they could ask, Harry said quickly. “Parvati’s badly hurt, she got hit with Sectu –er, I mean, some spell, and she was bleeding everywhere. I managed to stop it, but she still lost a lot of blood –she needs to go tot St. Mungo’s right now.�

James nodded and beckoned a young looking Auror over to them. “Apparate her to St. Mungo’s and admit her into the emergency ward immediately –it doesn’t look like she’ll last long. Hurry!� The Auror nodded briskly and lightly touched her arm, Disapparating with a CRACK a split second later. James opened his mouth, about to ask about the other girl, but the look in Harry’s eyes stopped him. Instead, he walked over to the other’s body, feeling Harry’s gaze on him all the way, and felt her pulse, though he knew she was dead from the moment he touched her icy skin.

Despite the rhythm of shoes making their way towards them, it seemed eerily silent. “You Stunned an Auror?� Lily asked incredulously, gesturing towards the imposter.

“How’d you know he was Stunned?� Violet asked, surprised.

Lily shrugged. “You see enough of both, you start to distinguish them. Not that it’s an excessive amount!� she added quickly at the look on Violet’s face.

The mention of the false Auror brought Harry’s attention back towards a not so minor detail: Malfoy. “We found a Death Eater standing near Parvati and . . . and Padma. I don’t think he killed Padma, but it looks like he’s the one who hurt Parvati. It’s Draco Malfoy.�

James’s face suddenly darkened, a nasty scowl emerging on his face, one that Harry recognized as similar to Snape’s expression whenever he looked at Harry. “Malfoy? As in Lucius’s son?�

But instead of waiting for an answer, James approached Malfoy and roughly grabbed a fistful of platinum blonde hair, yanking his head up so he was level with him.

“James!� Lily reprimanded sharply, but he didn’t listen.

“What’s your slimy git of a father got you doing now? Taught you the arts of torture, did he? You and I both know Voldemort wasn’t just out for some random fun . . . what was he trying to do? Damn it, answer me!�

“Potter, he’s Stunned,� the booming Auror reminded him. “We’ve still got possible Death Eaters around, and we’ve wasted enough manpower on this. Bring him and the other to HQ –interrogate them there. It’s not safe here.� He scrutinized Violet and Harry’s fatigue and wounds before adding, “Take the kids too –they can get patched up there. Lily, it’s up to you –we could use the manpower, but if you feel like you’ve got to take care of your children –d�

Lily nodded. “Thanks. But if things really get bad, owl us.�

The Auror nodded. “We will.� He turned to rejoin the rest of his squadron, but briefly turned back to Harry and Violet. “Good work,� he said before disappearing around the corner, the billowing of his robes rivaling even Snape’s.

* * *

“I’ll ask again. What was Voldemort doing in Diagon Alley?�

Malfoy turned his head away, refusing to look into James Potter’s eyes. James scrutinized the Death Eater’s body language, watched the way he never looked at James, how his hands firmly, spastically gripped the cold metal chair his arms were enclosed in, how sweat dripped from his pale nose, the shadows in his eyes that gave him an almost sickly, delirious look.

In other words, he didn’t seem like the snobby, malicious son of a Death Eater aristocrat.

James almost found himself sympathizing with Malfoy; under the bright lights, Malfoy seemed vulnerable, a child. He found that he had to remind himself that this was a hardened Death Eater as he tried to extract information out of him. James knew that there was still the interrogation going on with the other Death Eater elsewhere, but he felt that Malfoy would be the most likely to spill. He knew he had to break him down, break his confidence in the Dark Lord or any impending rescue from his influential father. Which is why his capture was extremely confidential, known only to a select few, who James himself had ensured were only Aurors in the Order.

He slammed his hands on the metal enclosing Malfoy’s hands hard, letting the echo resonate throughout the room before continuing. “Listen, both you and I know that Voldemort isn’t coming for you –don’t flinch like that, you’re his bloody servant . . .�

Malfoy muttered something incoherent, his eyes still fixated on the foreboding walls, recognizing that his freedom was on the other side, out of reach. What Malfoy didn’t know was that the remaining three Potters and two Aurors were watching, recording everything, and sometimes giving suggestions into James’s ear through a magical connection.

“What was that?� James asked sharply when Malfoy didn’t repeat what he had said.

“I’m expendable; I know that,� Malfoy repeated softly. “Everyone is.�

Maybe James wouldn’t have to break his spirit after all. “You’re right. Voldemort doesn’t care about anybody but himself. You, your father, your mother…you’re all pawns –bloody useful when needed, but no need to give a thought to it when he cuts you loose. If anything, he may have a man make sure that you never talk.� James let his gaze rest on his pallid face for a moment, willing him to look up. When he saw a person’s eyes, it’s a lot easier to tell whether or not he’s getting to them.

Malfoy’s breath became hitched and James caught some uncontrolled gasps, though the kid seemed to be trying his best to get it under control. “We can help you, you know –give you protection, give your family protection. That’s what you’re worried about, isn’t it?� James added. Malfoy’s rigid movements at the mention of his family gave away exactly what his dilemma was. Death Eater or not, this was still a scared teenager in front of him, and it was a delicate balance James needed to walk.

“You can’t help me.�

But the desperation in his voice indicated that he wanted them to.

We’re not getting anywhere with this, Kingsley Shacklebolt’s voice rang in his ear. Move on to the two girls. See if there’s any remorse. If so, then we have something to work with.

James frowned. True, but what if that causes him to close up?

Then we’ll start over. Tonks and I are willing to stay as long as possible to get that information.

I second that!

James, if this goes on too long, I’m taking the kids home, Lily said, joining the conversation.

James took a moment to agree with his wife’s statement before turning his attention back to the interrogation. It’d probably be better if Harry and Violet leave soon –he didn’t want them to see if he had to resort to extreme measures, though certain of them are off limits. Despite the fact that Aurors are allowed to use Unforgivable Curses on prisoners, James had made an oath to never do that. If he did, what good was it? It’d make him just like them and lower him to the barbaric levels of the Death Eaters. When the good guys, the justified, starts using Unforgivables, the lines get blurred, and who’s to say that the thrill of their use won’t get to people’s heads? What will happen to the cause, to the morality they were supposed to protect if the Aurors essentially became a group of Ministry Death Eaters? There was a certain moral line that they had to draw to differentiate themselves from the Dark, and James refused to cross it.

“Let’s talk about the Patil twins,� James said suddenly, hoping to catch Malfoy off guard.

He got the desired effect. Malfoy finally met eyes, and a deep, nasty scowl crossed his face, the first aggressive sign he had shown so far in the interrogation. “Let’s not,� he snarled, the vulnerability gone.

“You don’t get a choice,� James retorted coldly, adjusting his techniques to Malfoy’s mood swing.

“I don’t have to talk to you.�

This is sudden burst of hostility was part of Malfoy’s defense mechanism, which meant that James was getting to him. Normally, the best time to get information out of someone is to throw them off kilter and anger them so much that they just spit the answer right in your face. Unfortunately, especially with the better trained Death Eaters, that usually isn’t as easy as it is in Muggle cinema. But the clear instability of Draco’s current emotional instability and the fact that he probably has had less practice with interrogations than the more experienced Death Eaters, that technique may just work with the kid.

“Did you kill Padma Patil?�

Malfoy looked away again. “No.�

“I can’t tell if you’re lying or not unless you look at me.�

“Piss off.�

“Not an option. What about Parvati? Did you perform a spell on her, torture her?�

“No,� Malfoy said, gritting his teeth together hard while his balled fists shook involuntarily, as if trying to squeeze the memory out of them.

“Now I know you’re lying to me. I don’t like liars, Malfoy. Makes you untrustworthy.�

“YOU’RE THE BLOODY UNTRUSTWORTHY ONE!� Malfoy screamed, sending spit flying onto James’s right cheek.

James cocked one eyebrow. “Really?� he said calmly. “Why am I untrustworthy?�

Malfoy took a deep breath in attempts to control his breathing. So the mini Death Eater did have some interrogation skills after all.

“I have a right to a council,� he said at last.

James leaned forward until he noticed the kid shrinking back a little. “This isn’t some inane case out of a History of Magic textbook, Malfoy; you’re a criminal, a Death Eater, and a possibly sadistic murderer…sorry, but the truth is there aren’t many options for you. Not unless you stop lying and diverting me and answer my questions –truthfully.�

“I’m underage,� Malfoy sputtered. “You –you’re not allowed to –�

“Yeah, well, torturing and murdering people are also illegal, Malfoy, but it seems that you and your dear master have no qualms about that.�

“You don’t know anything,� the boy said, shaking his damp blonde head. “You’re a Potter, a sheltered, arrogant, show off bastard who knows nothing about suffering...�

James suddenly found his wand half out of his pocket. Closing his eyes for a moment, he regained his posture, waving the insult aside, though he wasn’t sure if Malfoy was talking about James specifically.

“You talking about me or my son?� he asked sharply, allowing a twinge of anger to seep out.

Malfoy’s nostrils flared as he looked up at James, malice sparkling in his eyes. “The whole bloody litter.�

Harry’s hands clenched tightly at this. Seems like Malfoy is the same as ever, with illusions that Harry actually did things to get attention, that he was some smug prat; hypocritically, all the accusations he’s thrown at him, all the names he’s called Harry really applied to himself, the heir of the Malfoy estate.

“Mum,� he said suddenly. “I want to talk to Malfoy.�

The other four occupants of the room turned swiftly towards him. “Out of the question,� Lily said firmly. “He’s dangerous, and I’m not taking that risk. Besides, you’ve had enough excitement for today.�

“Mum, Harry’s the one who caught him,� Violet pointed out. “And he went to school with him for six years –he can probably get information out of him better than anyone else. I mean, they both definitely know how to provoke the other.�

“Yes, I remember the mountain of letters we’ve received over the years about the duels Harry got himself into,� Lily said dryly. “We appreciate that you turned over two Death Eaters and brought Parvati Patil medical attention but –�

“But it’s not enough,� Harry interrupted. “We only got things half done, I need to talk to him.�

“Harry, you might make it worse,� Kingsley said gently. “If there is a lot of bad blood between you two it might make him more determined to keep you out of the loop.�

“Then we’ll start over again,� Violet said, mimicking Kingsley’s words when James had asked that question. It surprised Harry that Violet would so willingly vouch for him with such fervor. If anything, he’d think that she would want to come in with him, but it seemed that she only wanted to help Harry get his request.

“We’ll do nothing,� Lily insisted, maternal authority in her voice. “And how do you know what Kingsley said to Dad anyway?�

Tonks raised her hand, accidentally sending her pen flying into the opposite wall. “I thought they would want to be involved with the interrogation too –they’ve proven themselves enough.� She beamed at them.

Lily sighed. Too tired to fight this, she pitched the idea to James, trying to channel a great big “NO� into his brain; if the interrogator rejected Harry’s idea, then it’d definitely be the last word. James, Harry wants to question Malfoy.

Okay.

WHAT?!

Well, they have history –bad history, I know, but still history –so he knows how to talk to him. C’mon Lily, you know how manipulative Harry can be sometimes –

I am?

Remember the Christmas guilt trip a few years ago?

Er . . . sure.

Well there you go. I think it’s worth a try. I’ll stand in, wand ready –I wouldn’t let him in if I thought it’d endanger him.

Lily wanted to strangle her husband. How could he be so thick as to put their son in there with a Death Eater! Merlin, why hadn’t she listened to the maternal instincts that had told her to drag Harry and Violet out of there before anything could come out of Harry’s request? She had half a mind to do that now, despite the avid protests that were sure to come, but she also thought James was partially right. Maybe this could really help shed light on what Voldemort was doing in Diagon Alley.

Kingsley, Tonks? Lily asked desperately. Do you agree with this?

Both did. “Don’t worry, Lily, you know James won’t let anything happen to Harry while he’s in there,� Tonks reassured her.

She was not convinced.

However, Harry was already crossing the room to where he saw James enter the room. He tried turning the knob like usual, but found that it was stuck fast. Er –how do I get in?

Password, Lily answered, though the tone of her voice indicated that she had no intention of telling him what it was.

However, Tonks was willing to share that bit of information, and Harry stepped into the interrogation room. It was rather foreboding, he decided, and was definitely not a friendly environment, which would have to do in order to serve its purpose. In the middle of the room, James stepped a few good feet away from Malfoy before extracting his wand, keeping it pointed at the blonde before stepping back to Harry.

“Don’t try to push him too hard, Harry,� he warned, “Make sure your wand is safe where he can’t take it, and step back immediately if you feel like you’re in danger. Don’t make it personal, but you can use it if you feel it’s to your advantage. Remember: just get the information, don’t gloat or anything.�

Harry nodded, wondering if the Harry of this place actually was a slight braggart.

“Okay,� James said, a shadow of worry lines creasing his face, “Just remember that I’m right here. Your safety is first priority, okay?� He frowned as if he were second guessing his decision, so before he could, Harry nodded and walked over to Malfoy, pulling up a chair, spinning it around, and sitting so he was level with the blonde.

Harry wasn’t exactly sure why he was doing this; maybe it was that innate urge to take action coming over him again, or the fact that he could get a lot of useful information from this. Maybe it was an additional instinct to gain trust from the people of this place, just in case anything went wrong.

However, he was taking a risk doing this, especially since he knew information that he possibly should not know, like the details of the night of Dumbledore’s death . . . well, he supposed he could chalk it up to Hogwarts gossip, but even that gets twisted in retellings. Actually, he had no idea if the stuff he knew even happened here, but he had to take a chance if he was going to get anything useful out of Malfoy.

The prisoner in question was staring at him, looking slightly confused as to why an ex-classmate and rival was talking to him. Harry rested his arms on the chair backing, looking straight into those grey eyes. After a few seconds deliberation, he raised his feeble mind shields in an attempt to keep anyone from looking through his mind while he was distracted, and lowered his voice so only Malfoy could hear him.

“On the tower, you lowered your wand; you weren’t going to kill Dumbledore. Why?�

Malfoy’s neutrality dropped immediately as his mouth fell open slightly, his eyes widening in fear and surprise. Then he seemed to come to himself, instantly shutting his mouth rapidly, the clank of his teeth grinding together echoing slightly. His face closed off and he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Potter.�

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,� Harry pressed further, encouraged by Malfoy’s negative reaction. Was Malfoy always this bad a liar?

“If I weren’t stuck in this chair, I wouldn’t hesitate to curse you,� he sneered, trying to get the upper hand back.

Harry smiled dryly. “I don’t doubt it. So, you going to tell me if you were going to take Professor Dumbledore’s offer for help or not?� Harry made every attempt to make his voice calm and casual, almost as if this were a conversation about the weather. He figured Malfoy was rattled enough; he just needed a dose of reality. Plus, if Malfoy got worked up, Harry might too, and there’d be shouting and any slips that are extremely likely come out would be really bad.

Malfoy regarded Harry warily. “I would never take anything from Muggle loving scum like Dumbledore,� he said half-heartedly.

“You didn’t even try,� Harry pointed out, frowning. “I figured Snape or someone would have trained you better than that.� What happened to the kid who broke Harry’s nose on the train sixth year? He tried not to flinch at the memory –not exactly one of the best moments for either of them.

Harry cast his mind around to find way to get an answer for something that would benefit both the Aurors and Harry’s desire for information on the current situation. Well, no matter what Malfoy said, it had looked like he wanted to take Dumbledore’s offer that night.

He noticed James looking at him strangely, probably wondering why they were talking in such low voices. However, James didn’t say anything, so he probably trusted that Harry was making some progress. He wished he were.

“Why’d you kill Padma?� Harry attacked suddenly, watching his reaction closely. First, he needed to see if his suspicions were right, that Malfoy really hadn’t killed Padma –or if he at least felt regret about it.

As expected, Malfoy stiffened. “I didn’t.�

“Okay.�

“Okay? That’s all you’re going to say, ‘okay’?�

“I believe you.�

“You believe me?!�

Harry frowned, peeved. “You know, repeating everything I say is getting annoying. Do you want to be incriminated?�

Malfoy couldn’t hide his surprise, and as much as he wanted to, there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes. It sort of made sense, since James had been trying to intimidate the information out of him before; Harry suspected that he hadn’t responded to that tactic because Voldemort proved to be a much more menacing entity than James Potter. A couple of hours in a cell with an Auror were nothing compared to ten seconds under Voldmort’s Cruciatus Curse.

As dense as Malfoy was currently being, Harry knew that this was the only way to get anything out of him. After all, an offer for help almost saved both him and Professor Dumbledore –Harry flinched at the mental image of the Headmaster’s body falling towards the ground –from the situation they were currently in.

Harry decided to move on; he noticed James looking a bit fidgety, and figured he didn’t have much time left until his parents had it with the danger and bodily dragged him out of the interrogation room.

“What about Parvati?� Harry asked suddenly, once again catching Malfoy off guard. He’d never seen the blonde this jumpy before. Harry considered adding something about Sectumsempra, but realized that it would be too dangerous.

“I didn’t kill her,� Malfoy muttered.

“But you attacked her.�

Malfoy hesitated.

“Lying won’t help.�

But Malfoy didn’t trust him. “You’re a bloody Potter, a filthy blood traitor who’d sell me out in a sec –� Malfoy’s sentence was cut off as he sputtered and tried to spit out the bucketful of water that had been thrown into his big, open mouth.

Harry resisted the laugh that bubbled in his chest, still holding onto the water bucket that he had just conjured seconds before. “Liked that, did you?� Harry couldn’t resist saying, “Wiped the slime off a bit, that’s for sure.�

Malfoy glared, water still dripping off of his hair, turned darker with the water, which in itself hadn’t been particularly clean. He looked about ready to rear up and attack Harry. He did attempt to shake his arms menacingly, but it didn’t have much of an effect, considering the fact that they were encased in steel.

“I’ll kill you,� Malfoy growled.

Harry leaned forward, suddenly serious again. “I don’t think you can. You’re not a killer; you don’t have it in you.� In that moment, eyes wide, Harry realized something. “You’re nothing but a common bully, Malfoy, nothing but another Dudley Dursley. Only difference is that Dudley had his fists and big friends to rely on –you have Daddy’s pocket change.�

Somewhat expectedly, Malfoy attempted to launch himself from his chair, but only made it about an inch forward. “I’m better than any of you or any of your blood traitor, half-blood or Mudblood friends!� he said fiercely, though he sounded as if he were also trying to convince himself, “You’re nothing!�

Looking at him, Harry felt a twinge of sorrow. “I’m not the one trapped in a steel chair,� he said quietly, without spite.

That shut Malfoy up. Anger blazed in his cold grey eyes for a moment, but the flames dwindled until they held an almost hollow look. He looked away, and Harry knew that he would lose whatever little cooperation he had soon.

“Malfoy –Malfoy. Draco?�

He looked up reluctantly, the sharp, authoritive tone in Harry’s voice causing an obedience instinct to flare up.

“What did Voldemort want in Diagon Alley?�

He didn’t answer.

“Just tell me, and we’ll help; the Ministry, Dumbledore . . .�

Malfoy suddenly went rigid, his face paling more than usual. “Dumbledore’s dead.� He said firmly. “He’s dead; Professor Snape killed him . . .�

“You know what I mean,� Harry said, “Dumbledore’s people, his supporters, the good guys. He was willing to help you before, why can’t you trust his memory now?�

“Only when I held a wand to him!�

“Because he knew that being a Death Eater would destroy you,� Harry retorted, his temper flaring. How dare Malfoy disrespect Professor Dumbledore’s memory? Dumbledore, who had offered him help, who’d known about Malfoy’s plans for most of the school year, but did nothing to stop it because of the threat Malfoy was under . . . Dumbledore, who always gave second chances.

“He tried to help you,� Harry said, his tone dangerous; he didn’t notice that his voice was getting progressively louder, his flimsy Occlumency shields disappearing the angrier he got, the more his fists shook with rage. “He tried to save you and your family! And you’re going to throw it back in his face by killing his students, by refusing to help us when you have the chance! You don’t like Voldemort, that much is obvious –you’re a prick, you’re selfish, you’re a bully, you like having someone bigger protecting you, like Wormtail –but you’re also a coward. You’re nothing but a big BLOODY COWARD!�

“HARRY!� James suddenly grabbed Harry’s arm and dragged him across the room. “That’s enough!� Looking tired and stern, they left an unusually quiet Malfoy behind, shutting the steel door behind them and reactivating the magical wards.

Immediately, Harry was assaulted by Lily, who looked torn between lecturing and embracing him. She compromised by squashing him in a bone breaking hug while snapping at him all the while. “You promised you’d keep control in there, Harry! I thought Malfoy was going to bite your nose off –�

“Congratulations, Harry,� a deep voice said from behind Lily.

“Er –what?� Harry asked, confused. Everyone else looked angry beyond belief at him, despite the fact that he felt something had come out of it; what, exactly, he wasn’t sure, but something.

Kingsley had been the one who had spoken, with Tonks smiling in approval next to him. “You laid the seeds for a deal to be made,� Tonks explained, noticing Lily’s confused glance. “Look at him; I think your words really hit him hard.�

“So are you going to use Veritaserum on him? Wait, why didn’t you use it on him in the first place?� Harry asked.

“He’s a minor,� James explained. “We’re not allowed to use it on him without parental consent, and well –I doubt that’d work out. We’re not above the law, Harry, and I refuse to sink down that low. That saved my life once, remember? I alone was spared of the team because I wasn’t willing to use the Cruciatus on a prisoner, who broke out later and unfortunately got revenge on . . . on the others.�

Harry had to agree. Malfoy’s trust in them would be destroyed beyond repair if they did that, especially if he knew the law, which he probably did, considering who his father was.

“Enough of this,� Lily ordered. “You’re all tired, it’s been a traumatic day, and you two are going home now. No arguing, young lady,� she added as Violet opened her mouth to protest. “And you’re going to keep Harry’s part in this off the books?� she added to Tonks, who nodded. After saying good-bye, the Potter family turned to leave when a voice stopped them.

“Before you go –Harry, how did you know the details about Albus Dumbledore’s death?� Kingsley asked. Harry stiffened, but he realized that he was just asking out of curiosity, not suspicion.

“Gossip,� Harry replied simply, as if that was all the explanation needed.

* * *

“Summer holiday’s gone by fast, hasn’t it?�

Harry blinked. “What?� His mind had been on the lack of information he had found about this place. There were a lot of yellow editions of the Daily Prophet about Neville, proclaiming him the Boy-Who-Lived and announcing that his grandmother had custody of him. After really thinking about it, it confused Harry about why Neville’s grandmother on his father’s side would take care of him if his mother had made the sacrifice. But then, maybe the details were switched and it was Frank Longbottom to whom the blood protection could be attributed to, or both. Maybe they hadn’t had as much of an opportunity to fight or flee as Harry’s parents had, and even then it hadn’t been a substantial amount of time.

Harry had even gone to the Ministry of Magic with James, snuck off while he was called to a false meeting by a memo that Harry had written and bewitched. It was then that Harry had gotten into the actual Daily Prophet archives to search for the desired information. Strangely enough, a lot of those had been missing there, at the source, which had led Harry to believe that there was a lot more corruption in the Daily Prophet than he’d originally thought. Perhaps there were merely unorganized…either way, it hadn’t helped Harry, but merely earned him a lecture for leaving the Magical Law Enforcement department against James’s orders.

Essentially, there had been far too many gaps in the official archives to really piece together everything, though judging by the current, far too optimistic articles, the Daily Prophet as it is now cannot be trusted to provide the whole truth. Harry would just have to wait until he had access to the Hogwarts library –surely they would have a more extensive archive.

He hadn’t realized that he had once again tuned Violet out until she actually poked the side of his head. “Harry, you’re daydreaming again.�

“What?� Harry scowled, not exactly in the greatest of moods. They had just found out today the results from the interrogation ages ago, but only after a lot of nagging, begging, and guilt inducing on Violet’s part. Harry, though he asked them for the results, didn’t feel comfortable enough to actually join Violet in the whining.

Lily and James hadn’t wanted to tell them anything, especially after Harry’s outburst last time. However, eventually they caved in the morning prior to when they had to leave for Hogwarts.

“It really bothers me,� Violet commented, as if reading exactly what was on Harry’s mind, “that there’s a huge, large scale attack about to happen that we can’t do anything about. I mean, how can the Death Eater not know when or where it’s gonna happen?�

“He’s too low –a grunt,� Harry explained easily. “If this was as big as he says, only those at the top would know.� Harry hesitated. “Malfoy knows, I think –cause of his Dad, but according to Mum, he isn’t talking...�

Violet shrugged. “They could have just used Veritaserum, but morals got in the way –�

“You say that like it’s bad,� Harry commented, frowning. “It’s not. Besides, didn’t Dad say that Veritaserum hadn’t worked on Malfoy when the Minister had made him give it to him? His mind was too strong, and Veritaserum has its limits on who it’ll work on.�

Violet’s expression darkened as she propped her shoes on Harry’s bed absently, not acknowledging him as he shoved her feet off the sheets, leaving clumps of dirt where her shoes had been. “Dad could have given it to him during your row with Malfoy. That really got to him –especially the water. Would have been vulnerable then. But nooo . . . it would have been morally improper.�

“Our side’s got to keep their principles intact –�

“This is war.�

“Sink to the Death Eaters’ level, we become them.�

Violet pursed her lips, staring at Harry strangely. “Hmm. Guess you don’t believe in sacrifice?�

Harry felt ripples of anger inside him. Him, not believe in sacrifice? His whole bloody life has been filled with it, filled with people dying for him, because of him; in becoming the Boy-Who-Lived, any semblance of a normal life was gone, sacrificed for the good of the wizarding world.

Violet observed the anger and bitterness in Harry’s expressive green eyes with interest. “What, something bothering you?� she asked, taking on a somewhat sly tone.

Harry glared at her. “Should probably sleep,� he said off handily. “Hogwarts tomorrow and all.�

She didn’t say anything for a moment, still observing him in an almost calculating manner. “All right,� she said at last. “Night, then.�

With that, she got up and walked towards the door, flipping her Weasley-rivaled hair behind her as the door closed with a click.

* * *

“I can’t wait for Christmas holiday already,� Lily pronounced, eyes bright against the background of the Hogwarts Express’s black smoke.

“I think pregnancy’s made you emotional, dear,� James said sweetly. “Usually we can’t wait to get rid of these two.�

Violet scowled playfully. “No Christmas presents for you, then.�

James smirked. “Likewise. But I still think I merit a goodbye hug at the very least, don’t you think?�

Pausing for a few full seconds, pondering this, Violet at last broke into a smile and hugged her father tightly before hugging her mother as well. After she was done, Harry also said his goodbyes. Though he was relieved to be going somewhere familiar, where tons of resources were available for him (definitely more helpful than the stuff he had discovered –or rather, had not discovered). However, he found himself missing the homely comforts of the Potter house, as well as the parents he never got to know. Harry had promised himself that he wouldn’t get attached and well –it looks like he had failed miserably.

Nevertheless, he knew his priority was his world, so he would do everything in his power to get back.

Harry turned to walk towards the train when he was suddenly assaulted by a mass of red hair.

“Wha –� he quickly turned around, wondering why Violet was attacking him when he saw her standing off to the side, looking amused. The redhead clutching onto him looked up, causing Harry’s face to automatically light up at the sight of Ginny Weasley.

“Hey Harry,� she said, letting go of him. “How was your summer?�

“Eventful,� Harry responded easily, the fact that this wasn’t necessarily his Ginny completely slipping his mind.

Ginny ran a sheepish hand through her hair. “Sorry I didn’t owl that much –Errol got some sort of sickness and can’t do much now, and Ron refuses to let me use Pig.� Ginny suddenly scowled. “My brother’s being an overprotective git, he is. And he usually gets along just fine with you too.�

Harry suddenly remembered Ron’s hostile letter. Guess he really was just another Dean Thomas to his best friend now . . .

“How was Egypt, Gin?� Violet broke in during Harry’s lapse of speech. “They let you go into the cursed tombs this time?�

Ginny wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, some if it was disgusting. Plus, the cost of international owl post over there is really expensive...� she trailed off, blushing in embarrassment. “But I did bring your birthday present with me, Harry, so you’ve got to open it later.�

“Ginny dear, the train’s about to leave,� the familiar voice of Mrs. Weasley said worriedly as she and a reluctant Ron walked over to them. “Hello, Harry, had a nice summer? Oh, and Lily, James, how are you? Good? I heard there was a nasty Death Eater attack on Diagon Alley while we were gone…oh, that’s unfortunate. The Patils were always very nice people.�

Harry frowned, wondering why she was treating the Potters somewhat distantly when he remembered that Order members weren’t supposed to call much attention to themselves if they normally didn’t talk, like how Kingsley and Mr. Weasley had greeted each other before Harry’s trial prior to fifth year.

Sure enough, Mrs. Weasley had discreetly muttered something inaudible as she was passing them towards the barrier. “Have a good term, everyone,� she said before disappearing.

“Shall we?� Ginny said, picking up her things.

Harry couldn’t help but notice Ron glaring at him out of the corner of his eye.

This unnerved him greatly, for the last time he remembered things being this frosty between Ron and him was during fourth year, because of the Triwizard Tournament. Harry’s thoughts preoccupied him as they ascended the steps off the platform and into the Hogwarts Express.

“Harry?� Violet’s voice broke him out of his reverie. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the Head compartment?�

It took Harry a few seconds to remember the Head Boy badge tucked away inside his trunk. “Oh…right. See you later, then.�

Ginny and Violet nodded as they separated in the corridor. Actually, Harry had no bloody idea where the Head compartment was, but after a bit of scanning, he found it fairly quickly. The brass plaque on the door made it easy to identify.

As he slid the door open, Harry registered an extremely familiar bush of brown hair sitting next to the window, a large book predictably resting on her lap.

“Hermione!� he said happily, hoping that at least one of his best friends didn’t resent him–

No such luck.

“Potter,� Hermione said coldly, uttering his surname as if it was something distasteful on her tongue.

Harry was taken aback by this frosty greeting. He could rationalize why Ron disliked him at the moment, but Hermione? What’d he done to her?

“Er . . . something the matter?� Harry asked, unable to think of anything smarter to say.

Coolly, Hermione looked up from her book, snapping its heavy cover shut before addressing Harry. “Look, we may have to work together, but that doesn’t mean I like you, Potter. I don’t care if you’ve been trying to be nice to me to my face –you think I could ever forgive you for bewitching me, making me look like a fool in front of the entire school? I should think not,� she said stiffly, turning away from him to read again, now determinedly ignoring him.

Frankly, this stunned him a bit. Why would Harry ever humiliate Hermione? But then, it was obvious they weren’t friends here –maybe Harry had inherited the Marauder genes, and had gone too far on a prank. But from what he gathered from living with the Potters, Violet had actually been the one more prone to playing pranks on people, not Harry. Besides, whether this place’s Harry was anything like him, he doubted he could ever do something as mean as Hermione was suggesting to someone unless they really deserved it.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel hurt by Hermione’s reaction to him. That made two best friends down on his count. Great, just bloody lovely, Harry thought dryly, sitting down on the seat opposite Hermione, It would have been wonderful to have Hermione’s help on trying to get me home. Both her brains and familiar presence would have made things easier.

From the looks of things, he’d have to start from the bottom to repair whatever damage there was to his relationship with Ron and Hermione. He needed to get the two people he trusted the most to help him.

It was funny; when they had told him that they were going to help him find the Horcruxes, Harry hadn’t wanted them to go at all in fear for their safety;, yet now, when he didn’t have their support, he found himself seeking the friendship that had kept him grounded and sane through everything that had happened to him these past six years.

Better start at square one, then.

“I’m sorry, Hermione,� he said.

“So I’ve heard. I’m trying to read, Potter.�

Harry held in a frustrated groan. Merlin, he didn’t even know what he did to deserve all this hostility. The situation was really starting to piss him off –his friends, minus Ginny, hated him, there was hardly any information on anything useful, and going home didn’t seem like a very probable option at the moment, considering he still didn’t know where the bloody hell he was!

He bit his lip, knowing it’d be far too suspicious if he asked Hermione what exactly he’d done –being the brilliant witch that she was, she’d probably figure out something was wrong in the first five seconds, and Harry couldn’t afford her finding out if she wasn’t his friend, someone he could trust with the secret.

Instead, Harry slumped lower in his seat, brooding.

A few minutes later, a girl slid the compartment doors open. She didn’t even have to say anything; Hermione seemed to know exactly what was happening, because she closed her thick book, got up, and trailed behind the girl. Harry quickly followed her lead, determined to try and use this position to his advantage. After all, the Head Boy ought to be privy to information that the student body wasn’t, right?

Oh well, at least he’d actually be doing something –plus, the Head Boy and Girl have to do a lot of things together, right? Set schedules and all that? Perhaps he could slowly gain Hermione back as a friend, or at least try to coax some information out of her about Harry’s standing in Hogwarts. Find out who he can trust, what was going on, etc.

Harry grinned, realizing that one positive aspect of all this was that he was no longer a celebrity, the famous Boy-Who-Lived.

The corners of his mouth suddenly fell, realizing that it was now Neville –shy, self-conscious, unconfident Neville– who bore that title. Harry made a note in the back of his mind to seek him out. Out of everyone, out of all the friends and teachers Harry wanted to talk to, Neville was at the top of his list, a necessity, considering that he was technically in Harry’s shoes. He remembered with a tinge of nostalgia the adventures he, Ron, and Hermione had experienced throughout their years together.

But knowing Neville, did he even have friends to help carry him through everything?

“Potter, will you pay attention?� Hermione’s exasperated voice broke him out of his reverie.

Harry blinked. “What?�

“Sorry,� he added after seeing Hermione glare at him. It didn’t have much of an effect; he’d already been subjected to it on various occasions for the past six years.

Several of the younger prefects sniggered at seeing the Head Boy get snapped at by the Head Girl.

“We were talking about the passwords,� Hermione explained, not bothering to hide her irritation.

“Er –okay then; what are they?�

Hermione didn’t even have to glance at the prompt she’d been given. “‘Wronski Feint’ for Gryffindor, ‘Abracadabra’ for Ravenclaw, ‘Hippogriff’ for Hufflepuff, and ‘Pure’ for Slytherin. Got it?�

Harry nodded, making sure that he paid more attention as the meeting went on. But really, as time progressed, Harry couldn’t see any reason for his momentary jealousy fifth year when Ron had received the Prefect badge instead of him. It was tedious work –it took much of Harry’s will and respect to his world’s Hermione to keep him from nodding off, especially since he had more important things he could be doing.

Finally, it was over. Thank Merlin, Harry thought silently, allowing himself a sigh of relief. Hermione motioned for Harry to follow her back to the Head compartment, where they started drawing up schedules for the corridor patrols. Harry decided immediately that this was nothing more than distracting busywork . . . however, it did give him an opportunity to try and become friends with Hermione again.

“So . . . how was your summer?� Harry asked, recognizing how lame it had sounded as he gave Pansy Parkinson double Astronomy tower patrol.

Hermione didn’t even look up. “It was fine.�

“How was yours?� she added after a long pause of consideration.

“Eventful,� he said vaguely. “Did you go to France again?� Harry winced inwardly when he realized his mistake.

“Yes, actually –how’d you know that?� Hermione asked suspiciously, eyes narrowed.

“Heard it around,� Harry answered, waving his hand dismissively.

Hermione pursed her lips, but let it go. “Did you hear about the Diagon Alley attack?�

Grimacing at the memory of Padma’s glazed eyes, Harry nodded. “I was there.� Pleased as he was that Hermione was responding to Harry’s attempts, he’d rather not think about what had occurred that day.

But Hermione’s curiosity was peaked. “You were there? Are you okay?� There was an edge of concern in her tone that broke the frost that had previously occupied it.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, my sister and I had to fight them.� My sister and I . . . he was really starting to get attached, wasn’t he?

“You –you fought the Death Eaters?� Hermione asked incredulously, reluctant respect creeping into her eyes.

Once again, Harry nodded, though his thoughts were on Parvati’s bleeding body, Malfoy’s shaking hands. If only that git had given them some information! Then, at least Padma wouldn’t have died for nothing.

“We should probably finish the schedule,� Harry muttered, not meeting Hermione’s eyes. To help quench his thirst for vindication, Harry added a third Astronomy tower patrol to Pansy’s schedule.

“Hang on,� Hermione snapped, snatching the quill out of Harry’s hands. “You don’t get to suddenly decide to start a reconciliation and leave it like that. I think I deserve to know. I’ve been trying to read up on what happened, but the Daily Prophet hardly even mentioned it!�

Harry snorted. Since when did the Daily Prophet ever properly report things solely based on truth? Load of bull, most of it was, as swayable as a branch in the wind. Though he would rather not feel the guilty churn in his stomach for not reaching Padma earlier, Harry knew that this, perhaps, would help Hermione trust him, or at the very least help her not hold him in such contempt.

“You know the Patil twins?� Harry asked, keeping his voice even.

Hermione nodded. At this, Harry continued monotonously, “Padma died, and Parvati was badly hurt from a nasty spell; she’s okay now, I think she’s coming back to Hogwarts. We found them and brought them to the Aurors.�

The compartment was completely silent, save for the rumbling of contact between the Express and its train tracks.

“Merlin,� Hermione whispered finally. “Why?�

Harry shrugged. “Dunno. We know that Voldemort –don’t flinch– had a reason for being there, but nobody knows why.�

Hermione’s eyes were wide as she regarded Harry. “How can you be so calm?!� she demanded, a faint accusation in her voice.

Detecting her tone, Harry clenched his fists together in boiling anger. Hermione or no Hermione, she had no right to judge him, to assume that watching his classmate bleeding to death in front of him had meant nothing – he raised his eyes to meet Hermione’s, who winced at the blazing anger in Harry’s eyes.

“Shut up,� Harry said coldly, truly recognizing for the first time that this was a stranger in front of him. Hermione would never be so insensitive, so ignorant. “You weren’t there, you didn’t fight for your life, for Parvati and Violet’s life– you didn’t have to bring Padma’s body back. So shut up, just –� Desperately grabbing on to what was left of his self restraint, Harry left, sliding the compartment door shut with a furious slam.

Hermione was left with wide eyes, staring at the compartment door with eyebrows furrowed, a cold realization gripping her. She really didn’t know. For the first time, Hermione Granger realized just how much her books had failed her. There was no volume thick enough to teach empathy.

* * *

Meanwhile, Harry Potter was storming his way through the hallway, not registering the numerous greetings that were directed his way. His head was starting to hurt from constantly swerving his neck around to inspect the interior of each compartment, checking for Ginny. Finally, he spotted two redheads and flung the door open, sitting down next to a grinning Ginny.

“Trunk?� Violet asked.

“What?� Harry said distractedly, the aftereffects of his little outburst lingering.

“Your trunk,� Violet repeated slowly, as if speaking to a toddler. “Where is it?�

Harry thought, then groaned before cursing loudly. He’d forgotten it in the Head compartment. Great, now he’ll have to go face Fake-Hermione again. Well, Harry thought after a second’s musing, I’ll have to see her the whole year. A scowl disfigured his face as he realized just how much he missed his Ron and Hermione. He supposed he could manage all this on his own – it’s just that it would’ve been easier with them, though if this Ginny was the same as his, she could be of some help.

But Violet he would never tell; how were you supposed to explain his situation to someone who doesn’t exist?

Harry shrugged this question off, cooling down his anger in the process. He wasn’t sure exactly why Hermione had set him off like that; maybe he just wasn’t used to her being so . . . insensitive. She had always told Ron off for his lack of tact, but obviously this False-Hermione had never actually had real life experience.

“Why does Hermione Granger hate me?� he asked suddenly.

“She’s still angry about that?� Dean Thomas asked incredulously. Harry blinked in surprise; he hadn’t even registered his presence. Scanning the rest of the compartment, he recognized Demelza, Seamus, Parvati –who was looking blankly out the window, not even acknowledging Harry’s rather noisy arrival– and a couple of Gryffindors that Harry knew were a year younger than him, though he only recognized them by face, not name.

“You talking about last year?� Ginny asked, eyebrows furrowed. “But that wasn’t even your fault!�

“Er –yeah. Remind me what happened again.� Harry asked, carefully making sure that he didn’t sound too ignorant.

Violet narrowed her eyes at Harry. “How could you have forgotten?� she asked suspiciously.

“Ran into the Head compartment door –can’t really think properly right now,� Harry joked, grinning to throw Violet off.

However, though the suspicion dimmed in her eyes somewhat, she still looked wary, and Harry began to feel concerned. Violet had been the first to see Harry when he initially arrived here –wherever “here� was– and though she’s acted completely normal around him and never mentioned it again, he couldn’t help but feel as if she was the one he needed to be the most careful around. He felt that, somehow, she suspected that Harry was not exactly the brother that she knew. But then, that could have just been Harry’s paranoia getting to him.

At least, he hoped so.

“Well, you’ve always been really forgetful –I remember that time when you forgot to pack your wand before coming to Hogwarts,� Violet said breezily, her voice completely casual now. “Anyway, Hermione thinks you played a prank on her. Someone else did it and landed the blame on you –we don’t know who it was, though.

“It wasn’t me!� she said indignantly at Harry’s expression. “You remember that Muggle dream where you walk into school naked? Well, that’s what happened to her, though whoever did it put some kind of charm on her so she would think she was fully clothed when she, er, wasn’t. And being the conservative, stiff, bookish type of person she is, that was the one thing in the world that, well…you can imagine how horrible it’d be for her, for anybody, really.�

“Oh,� was really all Harry could say to that. “Why’d she think it was me?�

“Someone left a note saying it was you who did it,� Dean filled in.

Harry frowned. “Hermione’s smart enough to know whoever did that wouldn’t be stupid enough to tell her who did it!�

Dean shrugged. “She needed someone to blame, and you were the closest thing. You know, I still can’t believe you need us to tell you about it again –didn’t you say your ears were ringing for a week after that row with her, when she was screaming at you in the middle of the common room?�

“Right, but I just needed another perspective,� Harry said lamely. He really needed to work on his lying skills.

One of the sixth years rolled his eyes. “Whatever.�

Ginny made a sudden movement. “Oh, I almost forgot! Your present, Harry.� She brought out box covered in wrapping paper decorated with flying snitches.

Smiling, he thanked her, feeling strange surrounded by these people –some he knew, and quite well, but they weren’t the same as Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna –Ginny’s presence was the only thing that made this feel even remotely right. And even then…Harry caught Ginny’s eyes, noting with surprise that they were different, more innocent.

That’s when he realized it. This Ginny had never been kidnapped and left to die in the Chamber of Secrets; she had never been manipulated and betrayed by someone she thought had been a friend. So who was? Had the Chamber of Secrets even opened here?

Ah, the mystery and danger of Hogwarts’ dark corners; though he knew he loved every niche of that castle. Somehow, he felt that things would get better now that he was heading home.

“Open it later,� Ginny said when Harry didn’t immediately do anything with it.

“Okay,� he said, carefully tucking the present into his coat pocket.

“Anyone watch the football championship?� Dean asked, breaking the moment between Ginny and Harry, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “West Ham completely –�

“No one knows who the bloody team is, Dean!� Seamus interrupted, sounding absolutely exasperated. Harry had to smile too, remembering Dean’s poster in their dorm. “But Ireland’s been flying really well –not surprising, since they won the World Cup before –�

“And haven’t since,� Demelza retorted. “Won’t again, neither.�

“Want to take me up on that?� Seamus asked eagerly, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Don’t think your mum would be too happy bout you gambling,� Harry added before he could stop himself. He remembered all too clearly the hostility he’d had to endure because Seamus’s mother had thought Harry and Dumbledore lying loons.

But instead of the hardened glare Harry had received fifth year, Seamus merely smirked cheekily at him. “Me mum’s not gonna find out, is she?�

“Speaking of, where’s Ron?� Dean asked, looking around as if expecting Ron to just pop out of nowhere. “I thought he was going to meet us.�

Ginny glanced at Harry surreptitiously. “Er –I think he wanted to go have a good snog with Lavender Brown.�

Demelza rolled her eyes. “Typical Ron; you’d wonder how he saved all those goals, his head constantly in the clouds.� She turned to Harry. “Oh, I was watching Bulgaria play, and their seeker –Viktor Krum– did this amazing move that’s real famous now. Called the ‘Krum’ I think.�

“How original,� Violet commented dryly. “Let’s try it!�

“Can’t, Vi –it’s not a Chaser move.�

Violet raised her eyebrow. “Guess it’s yours, then Harry.�

Harry nodded absently, wondering about this new information about Ron. Was he good friends with Harry? Probably not, since he seemed to have tolerated Harry snogging his sister before. Presumably he hung out with Seamus and Dean if they were expecting him; but maybe it was more of the Quidditch crowd, not just a small group of friends. The Golden Trio, Harry thought, amused. Friends, but not as close as Ron, Hermione, and Harry had been.

Then it clicked that Ron was still dating Lavender.

Won-Won, Harry thought, a grin erupting on his face. He couldn’t believe the Ron here would actually put up with that for more than a year. After all, just having to watch the mushiness had been revolting enough for Harry, and especially so for Hermione.

Harry’s grin slipped as he realized that not only was he on bad terms with his best mates, but that the two –who obviously liked each other in an entirely un-platonic way– probably weren’t even on speaking terms.

Suddenly, Harry sensed a disturbance; something about the light-hearted atmosphere of the compartment changed. Turning his head slightly, he saw that Parvati had stood up, her eyes flashing, cheeks flushed with anger.

“How –how can you –� she stuttered, voice shaking tremendously.

“Parvati?� Dean said cautiously. “What’s wrong?�

Violet was looking at Harry worriedly, and he understood; they both knew exactly what was wrong.

“How can you talk about Viktor bloody Krum when people are dying!� she shrieked, tears glistening in her eyes. “When people are being tortured, all you can talk about is your fucking Quidditch? You…you…she’s dead!� Her voice was rising higher and higher as her breathing became erratic in hysteria. “She’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead, Padma’s dead –that’s more important than Quidditch!�

Parvati couldn’t even talk anymore at this point; she was sobbing hard, hot tears staining her dark cheeks.

Everyone was frozen in a stunned silence. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Violet stood up and approached the crying girl cautiously. “We’re sorry, Parvati,� she said quietly, “we didn’t think you wanted to talk abou –�

Parvati let out a shrill, devastating scream as she pushed past Violet and rushed out of the compartment, promptly smashing into the Head Girl.

“Parvati!� Hermione exclaimed. “What’s wro –�

Harry knew that Parvati was having a massive breakdown, that she was reaching for her wand to hex Hermione –quickly, Harry grabbed Parvati’s shoulders and shoved her outside the compartment, Hermione quickly leaping aside for them. Harry decisively shut the sliding door before facing Parvati, whose eyes were suddenly wide open, pure, primal fear written all over her face.

“I’m not going to hurt you,� Harry said gently, realizing that Parvati must be remembering what had happened in Diagon Alley. “But I couldn’t let you hex Hermione, you understand that, right?�

Slowly, Parvati nodded her head, the panic in her eyes diminishing slightly.

Harry remembered the Yule Ball, how Parvati had been showing him off a bit, bragging about how she’d gotten the famous Harry Potter as a date. Now, however –now she just looked vulnerable and helpless, unable to deal with the fact that her twin, her other half, was gone forever.

“Sorry,� Parvati muttered, silent tears still flowing down her cheeks. “Didn’t mean to lose control like that.�

“It’s alright,� Harry said. “They weren’t trying to ignore Padma, you know.� He ignored Parvati’s flinch at the mention of her twin. “It’s easier to talk about small, normal stuff than…well, you know.�

He paused, recollecting. “They know. They understand; they weren’t going to mention her until you did.�

Parvati nodded jerkily. “I almost didn’t come back –to Hogwarts, I mean,� she said quietly. “My mum didn’t want me too, but if I had stayed at home –Padma was everywhere.�

Harry nodded, listening silently. He knew exactly how she felt; it had been the same for him regarding Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Sirius had hated it, and Harry hated it too. There were too many reminders of Sirius, of everything that his godfather had despised and tried to run away from, only to be trapped there in his last days.

“I –I think I’ll apologize to everyone,� Parvati said, looking ashamed about her outburst.

“Don’t think you need do,� Harry answered, though she probably would anyway.

“Er –Potter?�

Harry turned towards Hermione, forgetting that she had been there the entire time. “Yeah?� he said somewhat frostily.

“Can I have a word in the Heads compartment?�

Harry nodded and had starting walking with her when Parvati’s voice called him back.

“Harry? Thanks. For Diagon Alley and everything. I’d be dead if it weren’t for you,� she said quietly, though her eyes showed her immense gratitude.

Giving her a small smile, he added, “Violet helped too.�

“Okay,� she said before re-entering the compartment.

Harry then turned his attention towards Hermione. “Lead the way.�

They made their way to the Heads compartment in silence; even the sound of Harry gently sliding the door shut seemed deafening.

Crossing his arms, Harry spoke first. “What d’you want?� He wasn’t exactly sure why he was being so frosty towards her –after all, he was supposed to be trying to repair their friendship– but it was probably because the differences still unnerved him immensely.

Sure enough, Hermione flinched at the iciness in his tone. She looked torn, as if what she was about to do was hard enough as it is. “I’m sorry,� she blurted out suddenly. “About yelling earlier. I didn’t –�Hermione looked away, but Harry was surprised. Did she just apologize? If anything, he would have thought his current attitude towards her would have just set her off more.

“Er –thanks.� He said uncomfortably. “I’m sorry too, I guess. Listen, about the whole thing that you hate me for…I didn’t do that.�

Hermione blushed furiously. “I think I always knew that,� she said slowly. “Just needed to take it out on someone, I guess. Rather silly of me, isn’t it? I mean, you’ve always been perfectly nice to me, even when others aren’t…� She trailed off, more embarrassed than ever, and maybe even feeling a little pathetic.

She must not have very many friends, Harry realized, if she had never become friends with us, and everyone just thought of her as the bossy know-it-all and nothing else.

“Well, I forgive you. We okay, then?� he asked, offering his hand out to her.

Hermione stared at his outstretched hand for a moment, then hesitantly shook it, a slight smile dancing on her lips. “Yeah,� she said in a strange voice. “I guess we are.�

Harry grinned, feeling that –finally –he had made some progress here. Maybe hope wasn’t lost after all. “Wanna finish those schedules now?�

She nodded, retrieving Harry’s pile, minus half its original size, and handed them to him. “You know, you put Pansy Parkinson on Astronomy tower patrol three times.�

Smirking, he replied, “I know.�

Hermione frowned, looking disapproving for a moment before shrugging it off. Harry figured that Pansy had probably picked on her enough to waive her disapproval aside in favor of the mental image of Pansy huffing and puffing as she was forced to climb the stairs.

Then, slowly but surely, Hermione began to laugh. It was hesitant, like she rarely got the chance to really laugh, to really smile and whole heartedly enjoy the benefits of friendship.

Harry was surprised as tears of mirth flowed down her cheeks, unable to contain her laughter. His head hurt trying to figure out why she was laughing this hard. The thought of Pansy’s upcoming patrol was amusing, but not that funny.

He shook his head, smiling slightly, and got back to work.

* * *

The Sorting Hat ended its song with a decisive snap of its mouth, regressing into silence amidst the usual applause.

To Harry’s surprise, the line of first years was preceded by none other than Nymphadora Tonks, whose pink spikes contrasted heavily with the rather pale, nervous looking eleven-year-olds. Despite himself, Harry felt a grin tug at his lips.

“Who’s that?� Hermione asked.

“Nymphadora Tonks. She’s an Auror, but I’m not sure why she’s leading the first years,� Harry replied, frowning.

Much to his friends’ shock, Harry had waved Hermione over to sit next to them as they entered the Great Hall. He couldn’t help but remember how stricken and torn she had looked, as if wondering if Harry was playing a joke or not. It had seemed to take a lot of courage to accept the invitation, surrounded by people who have probably ridiculed her every year of her Hogwarts career.

Gaining Hermione’s friendship had been easy enough once they got over the initial hump, but Harry knew that Ron would be much harder. However, seeing Tonks –cheerful and effervescent as ever– lifted his spirits.

Tonks named off the various people, although it did not escape Harry’s notice that the amount of brand new students had decreased significantly. Finally, after all had been properly sorted, the chair at the head of the faculty table screeched as it was pushed backwards.

A stern looking Headmistress McGonagall suddenly stood up, gazing solemnly out at the Great Hall, whose numbers had dwindled considerably. Harry had half expected Dumbledore’s vibrant energy to make up for the empty spaces in the House tables; his loss became even more painfully pronounced when compared to McGonagall’s disciplinarian air.

“Welcome to another year of Hogwarts; I congratulate those of you who decided to come back this year, despite the dark times our world is going through. Remember that education is important for post war, when all of this is over with. When the battle ends, we need young witches and wizards with refined minds and magical ability to carry our generation through the rebuilding. Therefore, I urge you to focus on your studies like never before –I guarantee you’ll need them.� A small smile tugged at McGonagall’s lips. “Although I daresay you’ll find some brand of fun to balance things out.�

She then went over the basic rules, stressing especially on not leaving the grounds without permission and limiting nighttime wanderings for security reasons. McGonagall also said that any suspicious activity by a teacher, faculty member, or even a fellow student was to be reported to her immediately. Harry figured they couldn’t risk anything like Malfoy’s plan to happen again.

“Eat up,� Professor McGonagall concluded seriously as food appeared on gold plates on cue.

Everyone immediately dug in, but Harry turned to Hermione. “Isn’t the speech usually after dinner?�

Hermione, who had been adding pork chops to her plate, looked up. “Yes, but that was with Professor Dumbledore, wasn’t it? I suppose McGonagall just wanted to do things differently.

Harry frowned, but didn’t say anything more on the subject. However, when he looked back up at the faculty table, Professor McGonagall had disappeared.

Must be Order business, Harry mused, suddenly seized with a desire to figure out what was going on. He could get Ron and Hermione together under the invisibility cloak and find McGonagall with the Marauder’s Map –

Except he didn’t have the Map or the cloak, and they weren’t exactly best friends anymore, where they?

“Merlin, Harry, eat already! Mum’ll kill you if you go anorexic,� Violet teased from across Harry.

Harry scowled good naturally, already slipping into the familiar comforts of Hogwarts against his will. Suddenly, he felt something brush against his leg. Looking over, he found Ginny smirking impishly at him as she interlocked their feet briefly, swinging them under the table.

“Ow!� Dean yelped loudly as their combined feet accidentally knocked into his knee. Violet laughed, and even Parvati had a small smile on her lips, though it did not reach her eyes.

Chuckling lightly, Harry dug into the delicious Hogwarts food, glad to be back at his true home, where his thirst for information would surely be quenched.

* * *

Harry allowed a groan of frustration to escape his lips as he scanned yellowed editions of the Daily Prophet, only to mentally kick himself in the arse when he realized how dangerous being noisy was. After all, he hadn’t seen his invisibility cloak in this world, and it’d be too suspicious if he suddenly went up to Dad and asked about it.

So here he was, nox-ing his light at every creak and squeak. He supposed he would have to just go to the library during the day –surely no one would look in too closely on what he was researching?

He felt completely blind without his invisibility cloak and Marauder’s Map…hang on; Fred and George were going to hand it down to Ron, weren’t they? If they hadn’t given it to Harry?

Scowling, Harry pushed away thoughts of his difficult best friend out of his mind. With Hermione, it had been fairly easy enough to start the beginning of a friendship, but he suspected it was because she hadn’t had very many friends to begin with. It made Harry sad to think of Hermione, alone for seven years save for her books.

Suddenly, something caught his eye.

Husband and Wife Aurors Attacked at Home

Eyes hungrily soaking up the information –which he already knew– Harry realized that there had been something that Violet had not told him; perhaps she didn’t know either.

At first the Aurors found no trace of Harry Potter, the young son of the couple, and for a while he was believed to have been taken captive by the Death Eaters. Although the suspected Death Eaters were apprehended by Aurors, the Potters had been incapacitated at the time, therefore unable to reveal the whereabouts of their son. He was later found hidden in their bedroom closet, the scene of the crime. Healers have confirmed that the young Potter is unresponsive due to shock; they believe that he may have witnessed the brutal torture through the slits in the door. They are now considering performing an extensive Memory Charm on him in order to wipe the memory away; this is an extremely controversial procedure, for it could cause permanent loss of short or long term memory.

Harry put the newspaper down, not wanting to read more. Did Neville see his parents tortured? Harry wondered, horrified. Is that why he’s always forgetting the password? I always thought…

Obviously this Harry had a better memory than Harry’s Neville if he’s got good enough grades to make Head Boy and remember Quidditch strategy.

Shaking his head, Harry carefully placed the edition back into its proper place, yawning; it was getting late. Much as he’d like to keep on reading, it probably wouldn’t be good if he fell asleep in class.

Deciding that he’d tackled enough for today, Harry dimmed his light, carefully checking around the corner before proceeding his way cautiously out of the library and back to the Gryffindor common room, knowing the Fat Lady wouldn’t tell on him for coming back late.

However, what Harry didn’t realize was that someone watched him leave from behind a stack of dusty tomes.