By Child of Two Worlds
A/N - This is based on those stories where Harry meets his parents in another reality, except it's the other way around. Thank you to Sets for beta reading my story.
Fired – slang word used to describe being contacted through the fireplace. (Remember the scene where Harry was talking to Sirius' head, floating in the flames, in the fireplace of the Griffindor Common Room?) It's different from using Floo powder because you do not go to the other person's house, you just stick your head in their fire. Using the Floo system is called Flooing…I guess. ^.^
/italics/ ~or~ /bold/ = emphasis
*thinking* = thoughts
Italicized text without either of those marks are Parseltoungue and spells.
To him, it was like walking through hundreds of screaming Dementors. The glacial winds tore down the stone passage, whipping the cloak around his legs and almost tripping him. Nearly invisible in the murky shadows of the gothic hall, the youth walked purposefully down the center of the corridor. There were no lights and no sounds except for the howl of the wind in the cold castle.
Finally the youth reached the ornate double doors. He stared at the twirling snakes that formed the door handle. The metallic serpentine bodies wove around the each other with jewels glittering in their eye sockets. They almost looked like they could crawl off the door and onto the floor. He continued to ignore his throbbing headache, he knew what was ahead of him.
"Open," he hissed in the language of the snakes.
Instantly the doors complied and opened into the room. This opulent room was much warmer than the bleak hall, the light of the fire set the shadows dancing on the tapestries lining the walls. There was a large, red wingback chair in front of the white marble hearth. A humongous snake lay wound around itself in great coils on the dark green rug.
"Master!" cried the snake after watching the boy enter the room.
Stepping out of the shadows Voldemort replied, "I know, Nagini. I know." Then he added, addressing the intruder, "Harry Potter," Voldemort spat out the name, "You dare come to my home uninvited?"
"I thought I was always a welcomed guest," Harry replied with more bravery than he felt he had.
"For dinner," hissed the snake, "to be dinner."
"Hush, Nagini," Voldemort spoke soothingly to the serpent.
Harry raised his wand, "I'm not here to exchange pleasantries."
"You want to duel?" he smirked, wand already in hand.
"Whatever," the pain in his head was so great that Harry was felt reckless. The scar connecting him to Voldemort relayed all of Voldemort's anger into him. Harry was used to the constant sting by now, but being this close to Voldemort made his whole body ache.
"Crucio!" Voldemort cried.
Harry had been expecting this. He kept his distance far enough that he would have time to react to any spells. Nimbly he jumped to the side and called out his own spell, "Petrificus Totalus!"
Voldemort wasn't as quick as Harry and was hit partially by the curse. Another petrification curse sent him to the floor with a loud thud. Harry blanketed Voldemort with paralyzing curses as he slowly advanced, the throbbing in his head increasing with every step he took towards Voldemort. The Dark Lord wasn't completely motionless (he' too powerful) and was able to wobble a tiny bit.
"Nagini!" Voldemort managed to hiss out.
"Master!" the snake slithered over to the two men.
Harry froze as the snake advanced. He watched her come within striking distance before he transfigured her into a suitcase. Breathing heavily Harry turned back to Voldemort who was looking up at Harry with pure hatred.
Harry looked back down at the fallen man with equal animosity in his eyes. This…thing…that had caused so much pain was finally going to be gone. Harry wove his wand in a complex pattern above Voldemort's head. When satisfied with the form of the swirling colors he began to work his way down the length of Voldemort's body.
Hermione had found a reference to this spell in the Restricted Section, but she had only found the theory. Hermione gave up on the spell as experimental when she couldn't find any more information /anywhere/. Not in the library, nor from the teachers. Not even Remus Lupin knew of such a spell or where to get information on it. Harry, however, could not give up his search, the theory was too spectacular. Eventually he worked up the courage to ask the Headmaster about the spell. Of course, Dumbledore knew all about it and gave Harry books explaining it further (after Harry had convinced him to lend out the books. He had to promise not to share the information with anyone). The spell itself would send a person to another dimension, in theory. Those who had supposedly completed the spell never returned. This was a promising fact for Harry.
It was only through obsessive determination that was he able to master the spell in three months…well the theory of the spell. He hadn't actually tested it to its fullest potential. The spell required precise wand movements in an extremely complex pattern. Harry had practiced the individual parts of the charm, but not the whole thing at once.
It was tiring to perform the whole spell (especially with a royally pissed off Voldemort at his feet making it much harder), but he had to work his way back to Voldemort's chest. Harry stood over the man's head as he poked the sparkles in preparation for the final piece of the charm. As he spoke the final word Voldemort's arm shot up and his wand struck Harry's. The doorway had already been opened, Voldemort was slipping away, but the wands exploded with energy and light. Harry and Voldemort were ripped apart from each other, hands glued to their wands.
The blinding light that engulfed Harry's body and the phoenix song that overwhelmed his senses was suddenly replaced by darkness and Harry knew no more.
It had been three days since the disappearance of Harry Potter. No one knew where he was or even if he was alive. The whole of the wizarding world buzzed with rumors and theories of where the famous Boy Who Lived could be.
Severus Snape was not among the curious throngs speculating on the adolescent's whereabouts. He did not know where the boy was, but he knew that something was amiss with the Dark Lord. The mark on his arm, a skull with a snake protruding from the mouth, had not burned once in four days. Voldemort would have at least been curious about the boy if he did not take him. If Voldemort had captured Potter, Snape certainly would have known about it…he hoped. Snape did not know about Harry leaving the safety of the castle in the early morning hours, nor did he know for certain that the Dark Lord was gone. He was not high enough in the ranks to know what Voldemort was up to on a day-to-day basis. He had a feeling, however, that Dumbledore knew something about the disappearances, but wasn't talking.
Sirius Black, in the form of Padfoot, had not moved from the floor in front of the fireplace since breakfast. It was part of his new routine: get up, eat, lay in front of the fire, endure comments from Remus, sleep, and repeat. Ever since Dumbledore fired them with the news that Harry had disappeared, supposedly fighting the Dark Lord, Sirius had done nothing but mope around the house.
Ever collected Remus, on the other hand, kept up with the everyday business. He continued his life as best he could, but he began reading more in the evenings. Remus felt that he didn't have the option to grieve when they had so little information to go on. Glancing at Padfoot on the floor, Remus thought that Sirius didn't care whether or not it was appropriate to be depressed now, he was going to be gloomy anyway. This was one of the worst Christmases ever. The worst had been December 25, 1981. The first Christmas after James and Lily died.
A knock on the door tore him away from his memories.
"Don't worry, I'll get up," Remus told Padfoot.
The dog didn't even respond.
"Uncle Remus! Uncle Sirius!" called a voice before he reached the door. *Harry?* Remus thought as moved his wand to a more accessible position and opened the door.
"Harry?" Remus' voice was barely above a whisper. All he could do was stare at the boy in front of him. Harry was taller than when Remus last saw him, his hair was shorter too, new glasses that were oblong with thin gold frames. He was wearing a dark green cloak that was certainly not part of the Hogwarts uniform. Was this Harry?
"Uncle Remus?" Harry looked back at him in mock awe, imitating Remus' expression and tone.
Remus couldn't retrain himself any longer, he threw his arms around the boy, "You're alive!" he whispered in a grateful tone, "You're alive!"
"Err…yeah, Uncle Remus," Harry patted Remus' back, "but I don't know how much longer I will be because you're crushing me."
Remus straightened up immediately, his composure back, "Where have you been?"
"With my family," Harry corrected himself, "was with my family. I seem to have lost track of them," Harry searched Remus's face. It was then he saw Sirius, back in human form, standing a few feet behind Remus looking shocked.
"Hey! Uncle Padfoot!" Harry called over to older man with a smile and an energetic wave.
Sirius was only able to mouth out the words, "Harry?"
Harry grinned, "You okay Pookie?" His mischievous grin faltered when Sirius didn't reply. "What? No Prongs Jr. jokes? No, 'hello Pronglet?' " Harry looked utterly perplexed, a pout playing across his face.
Sirius' lip quirked at "Pronglet", but he remained where he was, staring at the boy in the doorway.
"Come inside, Harry," Remus instructed urgently.
Although he was still confused, Harry followed Remus inside. "What's the matter with you two?" he asked after the door was closed. Then he turned to Sirius for answers, "First Uncle Remus breaks down on me, then you look like you were hit with a body bind and a hallucination hex!" he exclaimed, exasperated.
Sirius advanced on Harry with open arms "Harry," he whispered.
Harry backed away, "Uncle Sirius," he pleaded, "Not funny, no pranks." Harry looked at Remus, "Come on guys, let me in on the joke." Harry expected Remus to grin and Sirius to start laughing at any moment, but they were still grim.
Sirius embraced Harry tightly, "Don't /ever/ do that again! I was /so/ worried!" he choked.
Harry hugged Sirius back, "Worried about what? Has something happened?"
Sirius looked at Harry's worried face, gold rimmed glasses pushed up so far on his face his lashes nearly brushed against the lenses, the messy short hair, no scar marking his fore head.
The change of expression was so quick that Harry didn't quite register it. It was not a reassuring grin, but a suspicious glare. Before he could react Sirius pushed him onto the couch.
"Who are you?!" Sirius barked.
"Huh?" Harry's hand rose to reset the glasses on his face.
Sirius grabbed his wrist before his hand touched the frames, "Who. Are. You?" He snarled.
Harry looked fearfully at his godfather. Something wasn't right here. His godfather had a haunted look he had never seen before, his hair hung limply around his face instead of being in the ponytail Harry was used to seeing. His robes were worn and patched. What happened to the leather? Harry glanced to Remus. Remus looked worried…and tired? Everything in the cottage looked old or at least used and the Christmas decorations hung limply as if distraught. This was not the cottage he knew.
"What's going on?" Harry asked, wide eyed, "Uncle Sirius," he looked to the other man, "Uncle Remus?"
"I should have known," Sirius growled, "Harry never called us 'Uncle' anything. You make a bad imitator, kid. Harry's picture is plastered in every newspaper from here to Japan and you have so many things wrong with your appearance." Sirius had a twisted grin on his face, "You'd think you Death Eaters could at least remember the scar on his forehead. You'd think-"
"Sirius," Remus interrupted.
"What?" Sirius snapped, not taking his eyes off Harry.
"We should question him before you berate him anymore."
Harry gave Remus a thankful smile, but Remus didn't return it.