Chapter 9

 

  The bolt of lightning came out of nowhere.

  Up until then, the sky had been clear of any clouds, the stars shining in a moonless background of midnight blue. The immediate sky had been filled with Death Eaters flying in on brooms towards the school itself, leaving the seventeen-year-old Harry Potter alone on the quidditch pitch, awaiting the appearance of Voldemort. They had been dueling for five minutes when it looked like Harry was tiring, and Voldemort, seeing an opportunity, threw a curse at the boy.

  "Verbannen!"

  The yellow light sped towards Harry, who opened his arms wide, who knew this was the moment he had been waiting for. As the curse hit, the sky was lit up in a spectacular light show, lightning dancing around the entire area.

  When it stopped, there was a moment of silence as those out on the grounds adjusted their eyes to the dimness. Voldemort had a grin on his face as he took in the charred spot where his nemesis had been standing, figuring that he had sent the foolish boy to a time where he couldn't stop the Dark Lord.

  "Hello, Tom," came a soft voice.

  Voldemort whipped around to find a glowing man behind him. Raven-black hair swirled in a hidden wind and green eyes were lit from within.

  "I've been waiting for this moment for almost twenty years, Tom," the man continued.

  "Who... who are you?" Voldemort asked, suddenly afraid of this man who appeared out of nowhere. The power pouring off him was unbelievable.

  "I'm Harry Potter, Tom."

  "Stop calling me that!" the Dark Lord shouted. "I am not Tom! I am Lord Voldemort!"

  "Lord of what, Tom?"

  Voldemort pointed his wand at the man who called himself Potter. He opened his mouth to shout out the killing curse when his wand was pulled from his hand. He watched as the wood curled back by itself, revealing the shimmering phoenix feather that rested in the core. The wood began to burn, leaving the feather floating in the air between the two men.

  "Lord of Darkness? I have seen much more darkness than you have, Tom, and I have never been tempted by it."

  An arc of lightning swept through the pitch, lighting up the surrounding area and the man facing Voldemort. The hot, white light revealed a scar on the man's forehead, in the shape of a lightning bolt.

  Voldemort backed away.

  "Lord of Evil?"

  Harry took a step forward.

  Voldemort looked around the pitch, and it was obvious he was wondering where all the people had come from. Most of the Order members were standing just outside of the fence, watching with amazed looks on their faces. A figure came running from the school, and the Dark Lord's traitor joined the other members, mumbling something about Harry as he tried to get his breath back.

  "Lord of Muggles? Or Wizards?"

  Voldemort turned back to the man and watched, horror written all over his face, as the phoenix feather started to burn. As it did, it released every single spell it had ever performed. Echoes of long-dead people began to wander around, several walking over to the side of the pitch towards the Order of the Phoenix members. Many more stayed in the general vicinity, watching Voldemort with vengeful looks on their faces.

  Screams echoed throughout the pitch as it lit up with thousands of spells.

  Finally the noise died down, leaving only the sound of Voldemort's heavy breathing the only sound.

  "Lord of what, Tom? Can you rule over anything without your wand?"

  Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "I don't need my wand for everything, boy."

  Harry laughed, a chilling noise that sent shivers down the spines of everyone nearby. "You certainly won't need it where you are going, Tom."

  "I am not Tom!"

  "Then who are you?" asked an echo.

  Voldemort screamed at the echo of his father. "Go away!"

  "You're just a freak like the rest of them."

 

  Severus' chest felt like Hagrid and one of his blast-ended screwts were sitting on it. He had been sitting in his rooms, frightened at the change going through Harry's body. It had started glowing the same golden color the man out on the pitch, before the lightning had exploded through the room, touching everything but Severus.

  He had looked around the room, amazed at the scorch marks that marked its contents. Then he had turned back to Harry, just in time to watch as his body flickered once before disappearing. He had waited for a minute before panic set in, and he fled out of the school, knocking down several students in his quest to find the headmaster or Poppy.

  Reaching the doors that led out to the pitch, he had seen a strange glow coming from inside it, as well as the general exodus of those still on the grounds towards it. Only in a strange flash of lightning had Severus seen Dumbledore's white hair.

  Now he stood next to the headmaster, not really sure if he was dreaming. It was his Harry, a strange mixture of what he had been before the curse had hit and the form of Harry Potter.

  "Harry?" The echo of Lily Potter was standing next to the other man, her dulled, echoing voice carrying across the pitch. "It's time."

  "I know, Mum," answered the glowing man.

  Severus' eyes widened at the implied situation. Next to him, Dumbledore gasped. On his other side, Black was gripping the fence with white knuckled hands, but part of that was because of the visit he had from James and Lily Potter before they had drifted back to the center of the quidditch pitch.

  "Harry," Severus whispered, his heart seizing for a brief moment in a tumult of emotions, too many to name or number.

 

  Lightning flashed once more on the pitch, illuminating the grounds. Voldemort stood as if in a trance, as Harry lifted his hands. As he did, the lightning changed from white to a quicksilver blue color, wrapping around his raised hands. It swirled once before it danced among the hundreds of echoes still in the pitch, gaining power as it did.

  "Goodbye, Tom," Harry whispered.

  The crimson eyes of Voldemort widened for the split second he had before the lightning hit him. His body jolted sporadically, the blue lightning running over his skin and through his veins like wildfire - uncontrollable and untamable.

  An echoing scream resounded around the pitch, before the night fell eerily silent.

  On the pitch, Harry fell to his knees in exhaustion.

  "Severus." His voice was raspy, barely carrying over the wind that began to blow.

  His eyes locked for a brief second with that of the potions master, before black swept over him.

 

******

  Severus didn't know what to make of it. He was in the hospital wing, waiting with numerous others on the outcome of Poppy's mediscan of Harry. It all seemed as if he were in a dream. There was no way that Harry had suddenly woke up, but then he thought that he'd always been Harry Potter, a boy that Severus hated for the simple fact that his own Harry wasn't beside him.

  His head hung down, and every once in a while, he wiped a hand across closed eyes, thinking over every thing that had happened since he had first seen Harry twenty years ago. He knew that Harry hadn't known who he was back then, except for brief flashes that had made no sense. And as Harry Potter, the boy had shown no indication of knowing anything about the past.

  So what the hell was going on?

  Poppy came out of the private room Harry was in at that moment, giving Severus a reprieve from his circling thoughts.

  "Other than being exhausted both physically and mentally, Harry's doing fine."

  Next to Severus, Black heaved a great sigh of relief, his one concern being his godson now that Pettigrew had been captured the night before. On the other hand, Granger and Weasley were already making protests about seeing their friend.

  Albus stood up. "And what of the physical changes, Poppy?"

  The mediwitch shook her head. "I don't understand all of this, Albus, but from what I've gotten from my scan, Harry is now the equivalent of a thirty year old man. But the oddest part of this is, the magical reserves I found are exactly like they were twenty years ago from another Harry."

  At that point, Lupin spoke for the first time since they had all stood down at the pitch, watching Harry collapse.

  "Do you think he is the same Harry as...?"

  Severus was thinking the same thing. The similarities between the two Harrys were too many not to be a coincidence, yet there were still a lot of differences that made it difficult to decide what in Merlin's name was going on. If it was Harry, would they be able to put everything behind them and start again? He had been struggling to find anything that could bring Harry back for that reason, but now that the chance was here, was he ready to take it?

  "Hm," Albus finally said. "When he wakes up, we'll have to run some more tests." He looked at Poppy. "Until then, I suggest we all wait to visit with him."

  "Albus...?" Severus said, after waiting for the others to leave. Black was the last one out the door, taking another look at the door that separated him from his godson. It was one of the few times that Severus approved of the other man, even if he would never like him.

  The headmaster turned from where he was talking with Poppy.

  "I..." Severus hesitated. He didn't like doing this, but he needed to see if this was really his Harry, even if he was unconscious. "I need to see him, even if for a minute."

  He watched as the other two in the room looked at each other. Finally, Dumbledore nodded and guided Poppy off to the other side of the open ward of the infirmary.

  Severus went and stood in front of the closed door, taking a deep breath. He had to know if it was his Harry that lay there, or just some miracle that Potter had pulled off. Another breath and he entered the room, his eyes pulled to the still figure lying amid crisp, white sheets. A tousled mop of black hair half hid the closed eyes that Severus just knew would be a startling shade of green, a brighter color than all of the emeralds ever dug from the earth. This time, though, he knew that he would also find a scar, a quite famous scar, that he had never felt – whatever Dumbledore had done to cover up the scar had done too well of a disguise for Severus' fingers to ever discover its shape.

  Trembling fingers ran over the smooth skin of one cheek. The pads of his fingers remembered the silkiness of soft lips as he repeated a motion done a million times before. He had watched Harry wake up every morning that they had shared a bed, knowing just what kind of touches would bring him fully awake and avoiding them. Harry had never woken up to fingers on his lips, responding only to the brush of Severus' mouth on his, and this time was no different.

  Severus debated whether or not he should speak. He truly needed to see if it really was his Harry that was sleeping contentedly, but he was.... Scared. Severus didn't like to admit it, but he was scared - scared it really was a dream.

  The decision was taken out of his hands when eyelids fluttered wildly over green eyes. Severus pulled his hand back until it was grabbed by a warm touch of fingers.

  "Sev?"

  Black eyes searched the face in front of him. Harry's face held a look that Severus had seen only pointed at him, a mixture of love and respect and, oddly enough, exasperation.

  "Harry," he breathed.

  The green-eyed man gave a sleepy smile. "I missed you," he breathed in a raspy voice, the same one that had haunted Severus for years.

  Severus gave a half-smile. "And you..." The smile drew wider as Harry gave a little chuckle at Severus' response. It was what he usually said, a little too embarrassed to say the words. Harry yawned, and Severus berated himself. The man had just woken up after a two-day bout of unconsciousness and he hadn't made sure he was comfortable.

  "Would you like some water, Harry?" he offered, moving towards the bedside table.

  "You wouldn't happen to have some painkillers on you, though?" Harry responded, nodding his head.

  "Oh, Harry," Severus said as he laid a hand on the man's forehead. The skin was hot under his touch, and a bit sweaty as well. "I need to get Poppy."

  "Sev," Harry rasped out. "Hurry back. And... whatever happens, don't let Sirius get to you." Here there was as stern a glance as Harry could give. "I need to tell both of you what happened." The green eyes were heavy-lidded, but Harry's face was earnest despite the obvious effort it took to talk.

  Severus nodded in agreement, before setting off to find Poppy.

 

******

  Harry looked at everyone gathered around his bed. Poppy had thoroughly examined him, exclaiming over the damage his own power had caused his body. No matter how much he argued, Poppy had confined him to bed, even going so far as to threaten him with binding him to the damn thing. Thus, the conference that Dumbledore call was here and not in the headmaster's office.

  Ron and Hermione were looking at him strange. Neither one of them were sure if this really was their friend Harry or not. The only similarities between their friend and the man on the bed were their green eyes and the scar on their forehead. His two friends also looked unsure as to why they were included in this meeting.

  On the other hand, Sirius, Remus, and McGonagall were gob smacked over the entire situation. The three of them had been shocked at the revelation that the Harry that had landed in the middle of the quidditch pitch twenty years ago was the same boy that had been raised as Harry Potter. Sirius, in particular, was thoroughly stunned by the appearance of the echoes and the talk he'd had with two of them Halloween night. James and Lily Potter had laid to rest, once and for all, Sirius' guilt over another Halloween, and since then, he'd been in shock. Remus had been, as well, from his encounter with his friends, but had recovered almost entirely, until he had walked into Harry's room in the infirmary.

  Only Severus and Dumbledore hadn't been shocked by who they had met when Harry woke up. Severus had been wary, and Harry knew that he'd been thinking that it was a dream - or a nightmare. Dumbledore, though, had taken it in stride like he always did. The blue eyes had twinkled at him, even as he offered a lemon drop, despite Poppy yelling at him to shoo.

  "It's good to have you back, Harry," Dumbledore started the meeting.

  Harry laughed. "I haven't felt this whole in ages."

  He directed a warm look towards Severus, who's black eyes lowered briefly before returning the glance for a quick second, all much to the disgust of Sirius and Ron. Harry glared at the two when they opened their mouths to protest such an action.

  "Don't say anything until I'm finished."

  The two snapped their mouths shut at the implicit instruction.

  "Voldemort's banishing curse wasn't cast correctly. Basically, the book he got it from, the author wrote it down wrong and didn't catch the mistake. If he'd cast it correctly, he would have taken over a long time ago. That curse is supposed to banish the soul from existence, but what he did was banish my body. Unfortunately - or maybe fortunately for my parents- it was three years too soon."

  Remus made a little noise. "You mean to say that if all this hadn't happened, then Lily would have become pregnant with you in seventh year?"

  Harry nodded, taking in the shocked faces of Remus and Sirius, and the bewildered look of Ron and Hermione. Dumbledore and Severus hadn't shown a reaction, but he knew they were waiting for all the information before they formed an opinion. "Yes. Her parents would have kept her home during the Christmas holidays, setting off a chain of events that would have led to a world ruled by Voldemort. My parents would never have gotten married, and Wormtail would have betrayed my father much earlier than he did."

  "And what about us?" Sirius asked, his knuckled clenched white at the mention of the rat.

  A frown creased Harry's lips. "I don't think you really want to know."

  "It's that bad?" Remus asked.

  Harry nodded, a glassy sheen to his green eyes.

  There was silence for a couple of minutes before Hermione spoke up.

  "So, how come you look like this?"

  The man on the bed sighed. "It's actually quite complicated. First, I have to say, is that this is my true form, and I would have looked like this had Voldemort not existed and my parents hadn't fooled around while in school." Harry gave a pointed grin to Sirius and Remus, who were snickering and blushing at the same time at the mention of their friends. "But, because old Voldie did live - and he threw that curse at me - it caused a slight break in the time continuum. It was small enough for most people not to notice, and no one really knows who triggered all of this in the first place so that it would happen.

  "So, twenty years ago, I landed in the middle of the Gryffindor/Slytherin quidditch game the day after Halloween with no memories. At that time, I really had no memories. I had a brand new soul and an almost fully-grown body to go with it. The memories that I did have were actually premonitions of what was going to happen as Harry Potter got older."

  "So, essentially, you named yourself," Remus said.

  Everybody but Sirius looked at him strangely. The golden-eyed man smiled.

  "When you were born, we were all sitting around, when Lily suddenly said that your name was Harry, and it was as if *you* were agreeing with the name."

 

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