Author's Note: In this chapter, you will see I have been deceiving you a bit, and Harry is awfully confused, but in his position, who wouldn't be?

Also, as I mentioned last chapter, will likely start smutting when Harry reaches 16+ - he is currently fifteen. That will change soon. Will probably have sexual stuff mentioned prior though. Hormones and stuff. Major HP/SB in this chapter. SIRIUS BLACKxHarry Potter. Warned. Again. Due to potential squickfactor. I decided it may play a bigger role in this HarryxMany slash harem.

[PLEASE READ] - I'm also looking for a BETA reader who will help me pluck out grammar problems and the like, since it doesn't matter how hard I pick through my work, I'm never able to spot or correct them all efficiently, honestly, my eyesight is also pretty awful and I'd just be grateful for the help. Especially typing on this tiny-ass notebook. Bleh. Anyways! Yes, looking for a BETA. PSA over. Onward!

Also, sorry I lied to my loyal reviewer (you know who you are!) about the Harry's age fiasco, I just didn't want to let on my intentions which will be steadily revealed over time. Expect to hear a lot from a certain prat named Gilderoy Lockheart.

Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Harry Potter

Time, Mr Potter?

{Chapter Four}

He wasn't sure how long Daniel blubbered, but he seemed to have a borderline unhealthy attachment to his big brother, which Harry didn't find himself minding all too much, he suspected if he had a big brother growing up, he'd have done similar. He never really could understand Ron's resentment of having so many supportive figures to choose from, but the grass is always greener on the other side, Harry supposed. The question bit at him as he gently patted Daniel on the head – hoping his interactions didn't seem awkward or standoffish, but how strange would it be if he started asking what happened the night Voldemort attacked?

Harry closed his eyes briefly, how much did he know when he first found he was the Boy-Who-Lived? Everyone knew more than him, even Hermione rattled off a load of books he'd been in that he didn't know about.

It occurred to him that he'd have to probably look in those books for the answers the public believed, and maybe look for some archived Daily Prophets if he could, before he pieced together what really happened that Halloween night, if Voldemort had left a horcrux in this body or in Daniel's, both - or neither! The world he'd fell in was a stencil of his old one at best, they were similar but they were not the same, he could not rely on things to play out as they did before, if he wanted predictability, he should not have gone the Northern path to begin with, he knew this.

Daniel had been strange around him, but he was trying to figure out family dynamics from a diary so he wasn't sure if that was normal, the only thing he could be sure of was that Sirius kept a certain distance from him whilst maintaining all was well, and Harry couldn't be certain why, until he studied the diary more. Slowly.

'Dear Journal,

He avoided me this Halloween, the night we celebrate the defeat of Voldemort, of course, it's Daniel's Night, always has been, always will be - but I'm his godson too, dammit. Sometimes, he doesn't even want to be alone in a room with me, I like to think it's because I got sorted into Slytherin, but he's always been a little off with me. I don't think Sirius has treated me equally since me and Danny were kids. Remus apologises a lot, and makes up for it - tries to, anyway, and I wish I could be accepting of it. I wish it was enough. Never have I met such a gentle man. Gentle werewolf. Gentle beast. He hates himself so much that it makes me sad that I cannot do anything about it, nor can I be at peace with just accepting Uncle Remus's affection and attention.

I want Sirius's, and nothing else will do.'

Harry felt a bit ill reading it, did OtherHarry have some sort of obsession...? Or was it just the need for equality, the desperate need to be treated like Daniel and thus it led to immeasurable depths of need competing for Sirius's attention? Yes, Harry was content to believe that, had he not read further.

'He's one of father's oldest friends, he is my godfather, my parent in place of those by blood. I shouldn't, I mustn't, but I do, and Merlin he's old! He's old, and he's a man, but no man should have hair that long and soft and perfect or eyes that blue or a laugh so infectious. Bloody Merlin no. Of all the wizards, why? I'd even tolerate Zabini over this.'

At that point, Harry felt mildly ill, OtherHarry...fancied his godfather, how many issues did this boy have?! He'd poisoned Quirrell, befriended a basilisk, got sorted into Slytherin, had no friends and fancied his godfather?!

He had to stop reading for a while, he told himself it was just puberty, sexuality problems and the like, trouble expressing himself in other forms except the written word, and Lily and James never died in this world, so Sirius's godfather role was all but in just name and perhaps a paper or two at the Ministry but on a day to day basis never amounted to more than Dad's Hot Friend, at least, in OtherHarry's eyes, even if Daniel called him Uncle.

Bloody hell this was weird.

With a great sense of trepidation and mild anxiety, he picked up the diary, and resumed leafing through it.

Slowly, his face stained red as he looked deeper into the unhealthy obsessions that caught the boy's eye - but it made him wonder, why didn't he moon after Lockheart if he was so insecure and lusting after attractive men as well as women? Lockheart was regarded as pretty by many and gorgeous by more than one publication and even had awards for his looks, but Harry couldn't help but feel pleased that OtherHarry didn't have poor taste in who he lusted after anyways, if he liked Lockheart than he'd have been more than just disgusted with the prat.

Was liking Sirius any better though?

Blergh.

'Dear Journal,

If we didn't have Grandma Dorea's old wand laying around, I don't know how I'd ever keep this hidden, or Daniel's occasional accidents.'

Harry had to assume that was the referral to bed-wetting, though it was concerning how someone in their early teens was still doing that.

'I can never fault him too badly for those I suppose, the trauma of the Dark Lord attacking again in first year would be enough to give anyone nightmares, he has no idea just how close he was to Quirrell hurting him. I don't regret taking care of that situation. But Merlin, using Dorea's wand to scourgify pee out of bedsheets is one thing, but this is just...embarrassing... how do other wizards deal with it? Underage ones? Do their parents just turn a blind eye? I bet they do. Richer people have house elves take care of it and not worry about bedsheets but mum was always so adamantly against them. I take a risk every time I take Dorea's wand off the ornamental holster, one day, mum or dad will catch on.'

Hells, he had to commend the brains of the other boy - evading the Ministry Trace 100% by circumventing the rule by using an adult wand was genius, though considering they lived on warded land with multiple adults, he was surprised it was a concern at all, but supposed James and Lily were firm on the rules of underage wizardry at home, like most, after all, wands could be priori incantatem'd if someone at the Ministry kicked up a big enough stink, and nobody wanted that, so it was best to just obey the rules.

'This is the fifth night I've woken up like this in just a few weeks, it's always so warm in here that I have to kick off all of the bed sheets, sometimes it's so hot I can't stand to wear anything at all, but I have to, or I'll make a mess.'

Harry found himself blushing immensely, trying to piece together what was being referred to, and having a faint idea already that was making him blush and cringe as he ploughed on.

'I woke up and it was so hard.'

Harry glanced away from the words, toward the door, blushing utterly and feeling bad about the privacy he was violating.

'I remember his blue eyes, his goddamn smirk like when he wins a game of Exploding Snap, but it was above me, and he was breathing heavily in my ear. I don't remember what he was saying, but I remember his hands. I remember his big, large hands going down my front and touching me, wrapping around me after going up the inseam of my robe.'

Harry shuddered, he was violating privacy doing this, but he had to understand - he told himself - and there was some sick curiosity behind it all, wondering if they had even similar preferences, but the content was new to him, and so he found himself picturing it was he went along down the page, a warmness spreading through from the tips of his fingers, up his arm and through his torso.

'I remember his shoulder moving erratically - and the form of my robes moving up and down, the intense expression on his face in his blue eyes, we kissed, and he grunted, before grinding down on top of me, rubbing me frantically until he withdrew himself from his own robes and we just started rubbing. I don't know how two guys... but it was enough. I woke up. I woke up hot and feeling good all through my bones, I hope I didn't moan out loud, I was already making a mess of clea- um... stuff... and I couldn't help but buck against the bed, pretending it was him rubbing me and not the sheet. I made a mess. I'm so embarrassed.'

"Harry! Could you come down here?" he slammed the diary shut at the sound of his father, and just like that, any lustful tension particularly in the southern regions of his body immediately drained, what could he want?

"We need a little man-to-man talk,"

Did Sirius tell...?

When Harry made his way down the staircase, he noted Daniel flash him a guilty look before vacating and going to help Lily with the garden, James smiled and gingerly gestured for Harry to sit down on the small round table in the dining room. Across from each other, it was almost like the interrogation room - Harry noted with grim amusement, except that his father was looking at him with kind eyes, concerned ones, that took in every inch of his pale skin before he withdrew his wand from his sleeve holster and wordlessly summoned two steaming mugs of hot chocolate from the kitchen counter, freshly brewed.

"Hot chocolate, Harry?" he gestured, letting one cup float delicately in front of him and the other floating hesitantly to Harry, who nodded, and took it from mid-air with grace and slowly lowered it down, smiling just a bit despite his nerves, his parents were kind. Not like the Dursleys. Not one bloody bit.

"Thanks Dad," it was strange, he'd tested the word on his lips mentally before he could really get used to it, it was the same with calling Lily 'mum' - but somehow he managed to play it off as his naturally awkward self, and nobody raised a brow as far as he could see - not even Daniel, who was remarkably perceptive.

James smiled at him in a gentle manner that reached right up to his eyes, it was easy to see why Lily fell in love with him - eventually.

"What's this about...?" he asked hesitantly, looking wary despite his relaxed demeanour.

"Harry, Daniel's worried about you, and frankly, Remus said you've been acting a bit strange - me and Lils have noticed you've been seeming a tad peaky and out of it, I can't say the week in custody helped, but I saw it too, with Sirius..." he trailed off as he noticed his son tense and frowned just a little, sipping on his drink.

Harry decided to tread carefully, it wouldn't do to accidentally reveal more than intended, how much did he know? He'd let James tell him.

"How'd you mean...?" he said delicately, fingering the handle of the steaming mug and drinking from it so he didn't have to speak, it tasted warm and toasted him pleasantly from the inside out.

"Harry there's no way for me to say this gently so I'll just come right out and say it, we tried to propose it earlier while you were in custody but now we think you need it yet - we're calling your old Mind Healer up again for a scheduled appointment, Daniel said you couldn't even remember the name of the students on your Quidditch team," said James with a frown "-if you're forgetting things again, you need to tell us, son. We're not here to make life hard for you, we're here to help you, and so is Healer Ashthorne,"

Harry tried not to choke on his hot chocolate, his mind picked up on the key things - as he now paid for a casual slip in knowledge by his perceptive little brother.

Forgetting things again.

They knew OtherHarry had memory problems from Lockheart - and they knew but as there was no indication in the diary that he'd figured out who obliviated him, to a point there had been a Mind Healer involved.

Suddenly, something sank in his chest that maybe, the diary wasn't that reliable, he guessed himself to be fifteen, but was he? How old was Daniel for that matter, if he was going into second year - or third, fuck, Harry wasn't sure of anything anymore, if OtherHarry had memory gaps, there was no guarantee that the diary was concrete.

"You have your future at Hogwarts to think about you know, Minerva, Pomona and the other teachers have done their best to make it less stressful for you, but Filius refuses to budge on letting you take your Charms OWL early too-"

Wait, too? He took some OWLs early? Could you even take single subjects ahead of time, early?! Hermione had been the greatest witch of his time and even she hadn't sat her exams early - he supposed if there was an exception, it would have to be an exceptional one and not one for mere intellect alone, even if OtherHarry was smart, Harry didn't see anything to suggest genius.

"-as are other teachers, Sni-Snape is perhaps more open to it but he'd sooner bend over backwards than admit a Potter should take their OWL early in order to get into his NEWT class and frankly doesn't understand the urgency,"

Harry wasn't sure he understood what was happening either, and just wanted to ask outright but didn't want to be carted off to St Mungos forever.

"...Harry, you've already lost two or three years, we don't want you to lose any more," said James emphatically, making Harry freeze before he could stop himself.

What.

"You can't get second year or third year back, but if you're having trouble remembering last year, you need to tell us, I know you hated bouncing between Hogwarts, home and St Mungos, but if it's for the sake of your mind, you must be honest," James pleaded, eyes glittering with concern and maybe even tears, had James been the teary type.

Harry's mind proceeded to kick into overdrive, frantically going back to the diary - was that why second year was a mess? Why everything after that was poorly documented at best? Then the dates stopped being marked on the diary entries, and classes were scarcely mentioned at all, it was because he hadn't been there to record it...!?

Harry was bloody confused, and scared, and worried.

"I forget bits but I mostly remember," he said softly, debating how much to lie.

"The more you remember, the harder we can try to have the investigation opened back up at Hogwarts, okay?" said James softly, putting his mug down and reaching over the table to pat down Harry's hair lovingly, making the teen shut his eyes and try not to come across as too strange from the familiarity of the action, something he wished for so many times as a kid.

"Mind Healer Ashthorne is in the next room, I invited her over but I wanted to talk to you first, I'm glad you were honest with me son, please don't be angry at us - or Daniel - for that matter, he's just concerned for his big brother," he smiled wanly.

"I'm not mad..." said Harry faintly, rising with his drink as James slowly ushered him to the living room.

"I know, Harry. We just want you to get better,"

Healer Ashthorne was a homely sort of woman, but she had a guarded sort of manner about her, she was old, but only with the barest few grey hairs sneaking into her brunette barnet, and kindly chocolate-coloured eyes, that reminded Harry all the more of the drink in his hand, and he was pleased to see she had a tea - and wasn't left unattended for the time James spoke to Harry, whose mind was reeling.

'Okay, so second year was a mess, third year was utterly lost and fourth year I know nothing about except I'm a beater for Slytherin and managed to break my wand and lodge it in my thigh. I was apparently at St Mungos between going to Hogwarts and apparently came back to Godric's Hollow a lot. I have no friends. I'm a bloody Slytherin, and I have problems from that bastard Lockheart obliviating me.

Wait, I do have one friend..!

The Basilisk! Slytherin's Basilisk...! That settles it, I have to go the Chamber of Secrets and get chummy with a great bloody murderous beast that nearly killed me for my answers, he's apparently guarding memories too, and memories are what I need.'

He did a mental review of what he knew as Ashthorne smiled at him, sipping her tea and inclining her head to the chair across from her so that they could talk, before she put her cup down and began opening up a medical-looking briefcase atop the coffee table, making Harry's brow furrow in confusion - he had no experience with Mind Healers.

'I've got to figure out what Dad meant about OWLs too, since I'd be in fifth year and I'd be doing my bloody OWLs again, whatever. Easier than NEWTs. I know my Potions this time around, same for Charms and the basics - I need to research the bloody years lost on subjects OtherHarry took. He isn't doing Transfiguration and that's a mandatory OWL subject, from what Dad said, I can infer that McGonagall must have let him take it early with all of his memory problems and home study efforts in mind to make OWL year less stressful. Bless that woman. Stern but good. I suppose memory problems from obliviates in Hogwarts that an investigation turned up empty on, is more than enough of an exceptional circumstance to do OWLs early, he isn't doing History of Magic, Divination or Astronomy, and they are mandatory OWLs, I can assume he's done those too, I need to dig around the bedroom to find something with whatever he got...'

"Good afternoon Harry, how have you been?" she asked warmly, Harry just shrugged a little and tried to deflect the question.

"You?"

Ashthorne detected it immediately and clucked her tongue in disapproval "I'm fine, but you've forgotten subtlety if that was an attempt at answer dodging young man," making him shrink a little at her matronly manner, reminding him eerily of a much more perceptive Madam Pomfrey.

"Sorry," he apologised awkwardly, watching her open the case that was empty save for a smaller wooden chest inside of it, which was inscribed in delicate privacy and locking wards and runic symbols, nothing overly complicated but certainly enough to stop a student prying it open.

"It's fine Harry, your father fire-called me in my office because we understand your memory of last year is seeming spotty? You still have gaps..?" she enquired rather sharply, making him nod reluctantly.

"As much as I'd love to keep you in St Mungos for a closer eye, Headmaster Dumbledore tells me this is your OWL year and you still have some to sit," she pursed her lips in disapproval, but Harry just gave a half-shrug.

"My timetable is small, I'm taking Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Ancient Runes and Herbology - I mean, I'm doing Ghoul Studies, Ancient Studies and Muggle Music but there's no OWL exam for extra-curriculars I don't think, the exams sat for this are different and I can relax," he said, trying to recall the scrap of paper listing his electives and books that had been crudely pinned to a corkboard in his room, and had been ripped off the letter sent that would have indicated directly what year he would have been going into.

Ashthorne, looking prim, turned her nose up but not in a derisive manner, but a mildly displeased one.

"Still too much, you spent half your time in St Mungos on your Transfiguration, Astronomy, History of Magic and Divination anyway when you were supposed to be recovering, I don't want you burning out while you still have holes in your memory on subjects like Ancient Runes and the like... if it gets too much you will drop an extra-curricular," she said firmly, while Harry just nodded along.

"Tell me, how is your day to day memory? Remembering tasks, short term things,"

"Perfect," said Harry hollowly "-I have no problems functioning day by day if that's what you mean, it's just, recalling specifics,"

Asthorne sighed.

"Has keeping a diary helped?"

"A lot,"

She reclined a bit, crossing one leg over the other.

"...And the Greyback incident, how are you...feeling, after all of that? Did you experience any loss of memory or gaps before, after, or surrounding the event? I have your medical documents from your court files already reviewed and your ability to produce memory of the event untainted and untarnished so it excluded and barred any referral to your medical history and as Greyback had no defence, and your mother was disinclined to make you testify under an insanity plea, the Wizengamot didn't perhaps dig as much as they should. I really, really should have been called Harry," she sounded disappointed in him, and though he didn't know this woman from Adam, he did his best to look apologetic.

"I'm fine, I don't torment myself over it if that's what you mean, I mean, it bothers me but not as much as it should," referring to the fist fight, the woman was quiet, and sipped more tea.

"And your nightmares? How have they been now we've dropped your Dreamless Sleep dosages down?"

Harry froze again, shit, what was he supposed to say? I have nightmares from another life where I'm a grizzled nineteen year old war veteran who tried to commit suicide by walking through the archway of death in the Department of Mysteries?

"I-uh..o-occasional," he stammered, he had a few in the custody block, no hiding that, he supposed, and if James called her then James saw and obviously reported it - just how many bloody problems did the Harry Potter of this world possess?

Asthorne nodded, and opened up the sealed box with a wave of her wand after uttering the word "Privito Encasa," - it popped open obediently, revealing the cushioned insides, which contained three black hand mirrors, which bore tiny runes along their handles.

"It is with great deliberation with your mother and father that we've reached a conclusion on how to help you deal with this, my job is to provide you with coping mechanisms Harry, because the holes in your memory may have taken away the recollection of the exact events but not with the trauma surrounding it or the frustration and stress that comes with a damaged mind," she said softly "-so I am going to prescribe a method that I want you to stick to,"

"This, Harry, is a guarded chest, it's warded for your privacy and will stop most students sans an utter genius ward breaker or professor with skill from opening it," she gestured to the rune inscribed trunk that held the mirrors.

"Inside these are enchanted hand mirrors, they are not to be handled by anyone other than yourself. There's a pamphlet inside that will tell you everything I'm telling you, but I thought I'd go through it once in case you have any questions,"

He watched her in curiosity as she pointed her wand to each mirror, explaining what her prescribed method of therapy was for dealing with copious nightmares and trauma.

"I rarely prescribe this to children over the age of 11, but it was with a lot of talks with your family that they agreed. Occasionally, this might be prescribed to a veteran of the First War but rarely, or those traumatized dealing with raids on former Death Eater homes..." she said with a light frown "-it's rarely prescribed because of the potential for harm, you know,"

Now he looked wary, what could those mirrors do?

"The charmed mirrors are designed to assign themselves to a specific wizard or witch's magical aura and touch, they are designed to absorb hypertension, stress and troubling feelings instead of manifesting them through dangerous acts of accidental magic and the like," she said with a small hum.

"So, how do you use them?" he asked interestedly, he'd never known anything like this.

"They act as pocket-portals of a kind, you meditate upon it's incantation - a long chant, and activate the enchantment ascribed on their handles, they're all unbreakable -up to a point, if you drop them, they will not shatter, all three are built to endure a huge amount of turmoil and stress, when you exceed the limit of one, a crack will run through it, once you reach that point, switch to another, each mirror has a lifespan dependable on how you use it, and how much...turmoil you have," she explained.

"So, they calm down magic and act like, I dunno, a muggle stress ball?" the Healer looked blank, waiting for an explanation, upon hearing it, she nodded slowly.

"Something like that, but the Abscondi Adaemone Mirror System is seldom ever prescribed, the Ministry rules it as borderline Dark," she said with a little huff, making Harry look bewildered.

"Why...?"

"They have a capacity for darkness, one would suppose - if you found an exorcist powerful enough to unleash another person's negative magic, or if some poor wizard or witch had something powerful and upsetting enough stored within a mirror without cracking it - it could, and I say could very reluctantly, perhaps form a dark being, but Harry, you must understand, Mind Healers prescribed this for eons to children who went through low level traumas that needed somewhere to put their nightmares at rest, only one out of every few hundred ever given out ever resulted in a negative manifestation of something, and at worst, it was just a little boggart," she said, waving a hand dismissively.

"Each mirror lasts a while, each box comes with a set of three, I've known men to make them last about ten years with almost daily use, so hopefully, this should give you something to confide some of your troubling emotions in, it's not unhealthy either, it requires a strength of clear mind and state of peace to use, it isn't giving up on what troubles you and locking it away, it's about accepting what ails you, and putting it aside," she said softly.

"It is hard to explain, but the magic of a Abscondi Adaemone mirror will be something you will come to understand naturally when you begin using it. The steps to use it are in this little pamphlet here - though muggle meditation books and perhaps Occlumency basics may help, don't feel you have to buy out Flourish & Blotts to research it as I know you would, you will get the hang of it with ease quite naturally," the healer sounded so sure of herself, all Harry could do was nod.

"Now, I would recommend something grown wizards and witches of a high and powerful persuasion manage to procure, but even for a Potter, I know pensieves aren't so easily sold, I'm requesting one from the Ministry on your behalf as I'm sure we have some seized in the evidence department from old, now irrelevant search and seize, cases, when your memories return, it would be wise to have somewhere to put them and return them. If I hear any word on one, I will let you know," Ashthorne smiled warmly and Harry finished off his hot chocolate, bowled over by her kindness - did she work for the Ministry as well as St Mungos...? Or just have links...? It seemed he had links he didn't even know about, in this world.

"What about the box...?" he asked quietly, gesturing to it.

"The box, like I said, is to keep the mirrors safe while you are at Hogwarts, if your dorm mates were to encounter whatever you put in there, it will not respond kindly, I know a boy who had third degree burns because he invaded his baby brother's mirror..." she trailed off "-the box is just a secure measure, the mirrors have their own, detailed in the pamphlet so they will learn to recognise you and only you, but it'll protect your secrets, so the things that trouble you most don't end up in the wrong hands,"

He wasn't sure he understood yet, but the healer assured him that he would, in time, so he just smiled benignly.

"Thank you, Healer Ashthorne,"

"Not a problem, Harry,"

His head was spinning, after the healer came and left, he took the mirrors upstairs and swore he'd report memory gaps and keep a better record of his thoughts, there was discussions on finding him Occlumency and Legilimency tutors just because both arts worked hand in hand and may aid organising a scrambled mind and give him a better understanding of the holes within his own mind if he had a greater understanding of it all on a magical level. But there was talk in a difficulty finding tutors, Harry's age in learning a penetrative mind art, and it disrupting Daniel's learning if he demanded lessons of Snape too, and Dumbledore said he was simply too busy, requesting tutors from the Ministry would be difficult, as the list of registered Legilimens was small, and forfeiting names to the Potters would passively be accepting an underage wizard learning a borderline dark art, and they weren't ready to do that, brother of the Boy-Who-Lived or not.

Eventually, Harry found what he was looking for, and found a piece of parchment hidden under pins of Quidditch news and broom releases on the corkboard.

'Enclosed are the O.W.L results for the early examinations taken by Harry James Potter, we sincerely hope you did your best and would like to casually remind you that due to your special and extenuating circumstance, anything bellow an Acceptable may be retaken at fifth year with your fellow students should your teachers consent to sitting the exam.

Astronomy - A (Acceptable)

Divination - T (Troll)

History of Magic - A (Acceptable)

Transfiguration - O (Outstanding)

We hope this is a joyous occasion for you, Mr Potter.'

Harry couldn't help but snort at his Divination mark, no matter what the universe, it seemed Harry Potter was destined to fail that subject, the O in Transfiguration was shocking, he could only put that down to help from McGonagall herself and possibly his father, who he knew to be good at the subject. It occurred to him that he had some years of Ghoul Studies, Ancient Studies and Ancient Runes in particular to catch up on - and he'd really need to hit the books.

He jumped about fifty feet at the sound of the door knocking, and then creaking open as someone stuck their head in.

"There's no point in knocking if you barge right in anyway Daniel," said Harry, rolling his eyes without turning around until a deep voice cleared their throat and made him turn around.

"I'm not Daniel,"

Harry found himself face-to-face uncomfortably, with Sirius Black, who for once - sought him out.

"I saw your Mind Healer leave," he said, piercing the silence awkwardly, the very sight of that woman seemed to have taken the wind out of his sails considerably, and any brashness or pushy anger or demand for answers he had, seemed to simmer down as he stared at Harry, who was giving him that look.

That damned look, of searching and longing.

"She's nice," said Harry stiffly, unsure of what to say on the matter, they didn't seem close enough that they could disclose everything to each other, not like with Remus.

"That's good," said Sirius awkwardly, before slowly moving to Harry's bed and sitting on the edge of it.

Silence.

"Harry I didn't tell James," he blurted after a moment, unable to take the atmosphere.

Harry stared, trying to make sense of the statement until he remembered what happened at the medical wing of the custodial block at the Ministry of Magic, he sat nervously beside Sirius, close - closer than he'd ever been, he saw Sirius tense, but then untense - so fast that it might be unnoticeable to any other man but Harry's eye for reflex caught it and made him feel sad an uncomfy for a fleeting second, ditching any and all hope of closing the tiny gap between them and take the embrace he so craved, doing the best he could to dispel the sick and twisted fantasies that the Harry of this world once had.

"You didn't tell him about the medical report - the uh...the scars, right?"

"They only know what was an outcome of the accident, the mark Fenrir gave you," he said carefully.

"But my parents - they're my legal guardians they have to have known..." Harry trailed off after a moment as Sirius's face became cloudy and dark.

"Harry, I'm your godfather and I might have veto'd the report before they saw it," he said quickly, making the boy's eyes widen.

"Sirius, why...?"

"You'd never trust me if I let them know what I saw, passively or not. You hold grudges, Harry, and I don't want you to hate me," a hand planted on his shoulder, making him stiffen and yearn even more to close the distance in a familial embrace.

"But I am concerned for your safety, Harry. I need to know what happened, I need to know why you have so many marks on your body, and you need to tell me the truth, or I won't stay quiet forever, I won't have your self-harm on my head," Sirius almost hissed, and Harry shrank under his touch. Harry was quiet, there was nothing in the diary about it, and now Sirius had seen his Mind Healer exit Godric's Hollow, his mouth moved but no words came out, as he didn't have an answer.

"Sirius..." he trailed off, looking up into oceans of big blue eyes.

Sirius was quiet, feeling dressed down to his bare bones by those eyes, Merlin almighty - he knew he got them from Lily but they were more than just Lily's eyes embedded in Harry's face, they were the most intense shade of green, four times as emotive and reminded him of the naked feeling that only a dosage of Veritaserum could give, as though he was unmasking his every sin.

Harry always did manage to make him uncomfortable without meaning to...

"I don't remember," his voice cracked, and Sirius almost hissed liar, but the pleading in his tone, the look in his eyes - it melted his godfather completely, combined with the Mind Healer's presence, he knew it to be the truth.

"I need you to promise me that you wont add to that bloody collection you've got then, and when you remember..." he hesitated "I want you to tell me,"

Harry looked startled by this, considering that they weren't as close, and Sirius noticed, responding quickly.

"Or Moony - you always got on better with him," a trace of hurt was in his tone, and it made Harry want to bowl the man over in his arms, dammit. "Or your parents, or your Healer, Merlin Harry, just promise me you'll tell someone adult, even Snivellous - he's your Head of House, I don't like the git but...dammit just promise me," he snapped, like a mood swing - it seemed irritation with Harry took over, and all he could do was nod dumbly.

"I promise,"

"Good, because I don't want to have to worry about this anymore, kid, now, I need to go meet Bill and get your mum to Gringotts, he's working with Lily again on her Charm's research and they want an auror to chaperone the cursebreaker's meeting and I said I would, so I'll see you later," and with that, he stormed off.

Maybe Azkaban made Sirius more reserved, because this conversation was full of mood swings, but considering he'd missed whole years of his life in St Mungos and had lasting damage, he'd have thought Sirius would have been, well, nicer, but maybe OtherHarry had been creepy or untoward to him, Merlin only knows. The conversation just sort of...hurt, because the only father he'd truly known regarded him a second thought. Bloody hell.

What was that about Lily, Bill and Charms research, anyway? Did she aid cursebreakers? He sighed, and vowed to look in on that more, along with whatever Daniel's interests were, still somewhat hurting from that brief chat with Sirius, but at least his godfather didn't disregard his feelings and on some level, wanted Harry to trust him.

He also vowed to bridge the gap between them, he would not lose Sirius again.

"Eat my dust!" snarled Daniel, zooming around outside Godric's Hollow as Harry tailed him, the pair of them riding Nimbus 2001s with a smile, James rarely saw his eldest so carefree, and Daniel always brought the best out of him. Harry learned that after the Quirrell incident, Hogwarts had been uneventful - the basilisk wasn't set on students, the tournament had not occurred, and due to Sirius not being framed, no mass murderer breakouts happened in Azkaban, it was pretty quiet, but with Harry's arrival back in school, he knew that would change.

The whole damn timeline was fucked up, and he was missing whole portions of his school life.

The rest of Harry's time was spent studying his old texts, filling memory gaps up urgently before the new term began, and soon enough, James and Lily were seeing the pair off to Hogwarts, and Harry unashamedly hugged his parents, to the surprise of everyone, before seeing them off, it dismayed him but, in this world, Harry did not have Hedwig, or any pet, for that matter, and resolved to change it for the sake of company, an boy has to have some friend...right?

He found himself a carriage and waved frantically from the window until the train moved and his parents were out of sight, Daniel had gone to sit with Hermione and Ron, and suddenly he felt lonelier than ever, chattering to the trolley cart lady just for the sake of it and purchasing a handful of sweets and pastries just to tide him over the long back-to-school feast that'd be Sorting first years.

Wait, if Daniel was going into second year, or was it third..? He thought second, but now after much thought, due his 'missing time' - some calculations showed it was probably third. Damn, either way, that means if Hermione and Ron are the same year, than Draco Malfoy, the Patil twins, Lavender Brown, to name a few, literally everyone he knew the name of - or almost everyone, were in that year, bellow, hadn't come to Hogwarts yet or very unlikely to be in Harry's year, so he would be in the snake den with a bunch of strangers. Great.

Then, something clicked.

'Born as the seventh month dies...'

He wasn't sure when his birthday was, in this world, is his scar was connected to Voldemort again - something he vowed to research, if Voldemort had horcuxes and a connection to Daniel, how he survived that night, and importantly - the damn prophecy, it had to be different. Something, somewhere, changed.

If he was born at the wrong time or the prophecy was different or something, Voldemort hadn't come back this time, Pettigrew had been sentenced to life in Azkaban and Voldemort was still an aimless spirit, the horcrux diary was probably still with the Malfoys and possibly in the hands of the Weasleys...

"Bloody hell, I'm thick," he groaned, Hermione back in his world would have noticed everything within the first night and had an answer before they even got to school, a smug, smarmy, familiar voice interrupted his out-loud musing.

"No disagreements there, shouldn't you be in a body-bind in St Mungos somewhere instead of shaming up Slytherin?" sneered the voice of the Malfoy heir, and to be honest, Harry was almost glad to see the smarmy git's face - just for more familiarity in this strange new world, at least something's didn't utterly change - Malfoy was still a git.

"You have that covered all on your own, with enough Sleakeasy to keep every fireplace in Hogsmeade running," said Harry easily, making Draco's face turn to one of shock, before contorting in anger as Crabbe and Goyle leered threateningly.

Harry just gave them a dry look, before rising to his feet, at complete height, extending a long, cherry wood wand that was as long - if not longer - than Draco's, which, sans perhaps Hagrid's, was the largest Ollivander ever sold, it was like he was a lumbering bastion of power.

If there was one cool thing about this topsy turvy universe, it was that he was taller than Draco Malfoy and all his goons, and older, being born ahead.

"Just because some of us take pride in our appearance instead of happily looking like the bastard offspring of Hagrid - doesn't mean you should go around criticising your betters," he sneered, despite his already pale face losing some colour, even Crabbe and Goyle looked wary, they hadn't seen Harry look this scary.

"What, going to punch me like you punched Greyback?" he smirked.

Harry's stare turned to ice, and at that point, Draco realized his error.

"Was there a reason you came to my compartment or are you just trying to start something?" he hissed through his teeth, glowering at the trio.

"You wouldn't do that on probation," he stammered "-and my father-"

"I asked you a question, what did you come for?!" snapped Harry, Merlin almighty he forgot how whiny Draco Malfoy could sound, and it grated on him like nails on a chalkboard.

"My father wanted me to hand you this in person," Draco hesitated, withdrawing an elegant wax-sealed envelope from his robe - the seal itself, belonging to the Malfoy's - as their family crest, Harry took it warily, raising a brow as his irritation dissipated to curiosity, Draco seemed to think the better of his naturally arsey attitude as he remembered the reason he came in search of the less important Potter, and swallowed some of his pride, for Lucius's sake.

"Apologies, Potter. It wouldn't have been normal without the usual vitriol, no hard feelings," he smiled a bit, and Harry was now perplexed as to what game Malfoy was playing, he comes in, swaggering about, insulting him to get his attention, and is now smiling like it was a joke, like this was just banter.

"Well, I suppose you had to retain dignity while being your father's personal owl somehow," said Harry, trying to pull of his most Malfoy-like smirk right back at the blond until he couldn't stand it and left in what could only be described as a very prissy, very girly huff, which lacked the usual heated 'I genuinely hate your guts and want to leave your gross presence' manner.

It seemed Draco Malfoy was genuinely bantering, and they spoke the Slytherin language of insults, and somehow, that meant they were on better terms with each other.

"Bloody weird,"

He was about to open the letter, until Goyle warily stuck his head back into the carriage.

"Oh, and Potter, Draco says we're arriving soon, so you should probably change,"

"Er-Thanks Goyle," said Harry awkwardly as the door shut, changing his robes and letting the letter slip from his mind for a bit when Hogwarts came into view from the window as he pulled the neat robes onto his persons and slowly broke the wax seal on Lucius's letter, probably about Fenrir's trial or something, the man had been acting odd.

'To Harry J. Potter,

Elder Heir of the Potter House of the Noble Lion,

I must admit, my son writes rarely, even more rarely of his other housemates outside of his year, your name came up seldom, but you caught my eye at that trial. You took down a thing of nightmares with your bare fists, not entirely befitting but showing a strength few wizards and witches have, all the same.

Our families may not always get on, though we have no declared blood feud, Dark and Light mixes like oil and water, but the eradication of Fenrir Greyback was a favour to the world, and not one that is met without consequence.

Enclosed is something you will find something useful to you, as a formal recognition and deceleration of my favour towards you on the date of your manslaughter trial.

Acceptance of this means one thing though, Mr Potter.

You owe me a favour in kind.

Sincerely,

Lucius A. Malfoy

Lord of the Malfoy House of the Rising Snake'

Inside was something small, delicate, though unbreakable, it was none other than the same object he saw in the DaDa office back in his own reality when fake-Moody taught it.

It was a tiny foe glass, a smart, subtle, and oh very pureblood message to keep his friends close, but enemies closer, and to watch his back, it was civil as it was threatening, a double edged sword in a way, as Lucius Malfoy entrapped him in a pureblood custom, and, not keen to make an enemy of the man as he would try to prevent Voldemort's second rise and find out where the Riddle diary horcrux was - if it existed - he would need the Malfoys.

So, he accepted the gift, and entered the pureblood political dance, and vowed to pick up a book on the customs and make sure he didn't royally cock things up.

The thestral ride to Hogwarts with silent, nervous younger years who weren't actively awful to Harry was a quiet one, to say the least, the doors opened and finally, Harry was met with a sight he missed so much, standing undamaged from war, pristine as ever. Hogwarts.

Home.