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, 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.