Title: Reverse

Summary: Harry Potter is not Skull de Mort. No, actually, it's Skull that takes over Harry.

.

"Thank you," Lily murmurs, clutching her sleeping son tightly to her chest. "Thank you so much."

James stands at her side, arm resting over her shoulders in comfort. He's not too sure who this person is, but if it means his family can stay safe then he'll take the risk of trusting a stranger with their most guarded secrets.

Sirius and Remus stand behind them with the suitcases James and Lily have packed, their goodbyes already said. The werewolf holds the portkey to America and the canine holds a wand at the ready. The small family are in their backyard, covered completely by the wards that make it non-existent, but one mistake is too many in war time and so he stands guard.

They saw it coming. They saw Peter's betrayal, it was hard not to notice in fact, because three of them spent seven years in close quarters with the rat. They watched Peter grow and they can spot his tells from kilometres away.

They hand over the wards a month from the first blatant signs, their plan desperate and unlikely to work but it ensured Harry's life and that's all they wanted. Then Lily finds an address book in storage, bare except for one name next to a number and a short description.

'For when death is close.'

"Anytime you need something, just ask," Lily continues. "Sirius and Remus will stay until… until things are over. They have a mirror set that leads straight to us, and even after just send an owl to our new names. The account is yours, connected to the main Potter vault, so buy whatever you need."

"Just stay safe," the stranger speaks, high and childish. "I can handle myself."

Lily bites her lip and hesitates. "You don't have to do this. You can call it off at any time."

"I know," the stranger says in fond exasperation. "You've said it enough times." A sigh. "Look, Lily, I owe your father a debt. Even if I didn't, I would still help you and your family. I know about being pushed into something you don't want."

James wants to ask, so badly, if that 'something' has to do with the stranger's appearance.

They were reassured that the stranger would grow normally, that any inconsistencies in appearance will be smoothed over with makeup and muggle tricks. Even now, hair dye is keeping those locks black and contacts are making violet eyes green.

If an outsider was watching, they'd see a set of twins.

Remus checks a wrist watch, the glass and metal scratched and worn even before it was bought. "They're expecting you in a few minutes," he warns Lily and James.

James nods and then pulls away from Lily to crouch in front of the stranger. "Just remember to be careful of Dumbledore. He plays his own games."

They shake hands like acquaintances and then James draws the stranger in for a hug because this person is his son now.

"I'm so grateful for what you're doing," James says quietly but fiercely. "When this is over, I'm sure Harry would love to see his older brother again."

The stranger chuckles as they separate. Harry had taken a great liking to them and spent almost every waking second with the stranger. "I'll hold you to that."

Lily and James give Remus and Sirius one last hug and take the portkey, disappearing into the obscurity of a new name and new life with a loud crack.

On the thirty-first of October, nineteen eighty-one, Voldemort falls.

Harry Potter, newly orphaned, goes into hiding after defeating the Dark Lord. People celebrate, shooting off fireworks from their wands and stumbling drunken through the streets in wizarding robes.

Newspapers print stories of the boy hero, each one more elaborate and fantastical than the last. They call Harry Potter the boy-who-lived, the hero, the saviour.

Lily and James fought bravely, everyone knows. They fell to the killing curse, some say, while others take a morbid joy out of describing a far more cruel death scene. Voldemort found Harry in the crib, or maybe outside, or maybe in the living room next to the sweet and happy family pictures that are still splattered in blood from James' desperate fight for his family's life.

Harry has a scar, they whisper. A lightning bolt, on his forehead, from where he reflected the killing curse. Obviously.

Poor boy, betrayed by his godfather. The man blew up a street, you know? Cursed that Peter Pettigrew half to death and then turned his wand on himself, all so the two of them could escape Azkaban. They titter nervously. He should have aimed better, since that Peter is still alive, shipped off to prison already.

I always knew he was a Death Eater, one woman exclaims, he deserved that death – nothing of him left for the Aurors to pick up. It's the Black blood, one man mutters to another, makes them all insane – just look at that Bellatrix.

And the werewolf, some ask, where has he gone to? Why, he ran with his tail tucked between his legs. Couldn't stand the memories, the knowledge of his best friend's betrayal.

Everyone knows what happened that night.

However, there are those who want the truth of things.

If you asked Remus, he wouldn't tell you anything but 'maybe' and 'I don't know, it all happened so fast' or perhaps a simple 'it's over'.

Dumbledore asks Remus, the poor lone wolf, and gets a more concrete reply. He tells the headmaster about the betrayal, he paces and snarls out his words, he looks Dumbledore in the eyes and his shoulders slump in too real exhaustion. He lies straight to that man's face and denounces Sirius as a traitor.

When Lily asks, Sirius speaks about hiding under the invisibility cloak. He says he waited until the Death Eaters ran before laying the fake bodies, coated in potion after potion to mimic the two Potters. He reassures that Hagrid took the stranger and then describes chasing down Peter and cutting off a few things before handing the rat over to the Aurors.

He pauses for a fist bump with James.

After Lily gets them back on track again, he says violet flames flickered in the window of Harry's room when it happened. He tells the concerned parents about how he watched from under the cloak as the purple engulfed the house, not burning but smothering, suffocating.

He says not even ash is left of the Dark Lord.

He says Voldemort screamed.