Past Mistakes

Chapter one

Weasley wonders

He should have seen it coming.

Really.

Voldemort was many things; stupid was not one of them. He had cast Avada Kedavra twice now, to try and kill him. Yet it had worked none of the times. It was only logical that the madman would try something else.

But still, Harry was thoroughly confused as he sat on the floor in the kitchen of the Burrow, staring at several freckled, familiar faces. Heck, the only ones missing were Bill and Charlie. Even Percy was there. And where was Fleur? Harry shook his head slightly.

"W-Why are we here?" Harry croaked. He hadn't even realised how dry and sore his throat was. Damn it. He had screamed a lot today, hadn't he? "What happened at H-Hogwarts?" It was very important. What had happened?! And why were everyone just staring blankly at him? Why were they even here? He could clearly remember that all the Weasleys had been in the Great Hall, fighting with the rest of them. How could they all be at the Burrow? At the thought, Harry's eyes zeroed in on Fred and George.

"Fred!" Harry exclaimed, his voice breaking slightly. He had seen Fred laid out in the Great Hall before going into the forest. He had been dead. His mind reeled at the thought.

"What?" Fred answered hesitantly, shooting questioning glances at his family.

"How can y-you be here?" Harry croaked, trying to stand, but found himself unable to pick himself up from the floor.

"I live here. Why shouldn't I be here?" Fred sounded puzzled. George nodded his fervent agreement, narrowing his eyes at Harry slightly.

Harry couldn't stop the words that tumbled out of his mouth next. "But you died."

The silence that followed was overwhelming. It rang in Harry's ears, piercing his soul. Unconsciously, George and Fred reached out, taking hold of each other, as if the very thought of being without the other terrified them.

"That's a joke in very bad taste!" Mrs Weasley suddenly burst out. Harry's attention snapped towards her and his eyes widened at the look on her face.

"A joke...?" Harry echoed hollowly. How could she think he'd joke about that?

"Molly." Arthur cut across his wife's building tirade with a sharp look. Once certain she wouldn't interrupt, he turned back to Harry. "Who are you, young man. And more importantly; how did you get here?" His voice was serious, sharp even. It was the voice Mr Weasley used when talking about Death Eaters and who had been the most recent casualty in the war.

Harry could do nothing but stare, slack jawed and wide-eyed, with a growing sense of dread spreading through him.

"What do you mean 'who am I'?" Harry shot to his feet, staggering slightly to the side. Bloody hell, he was in a lot of pain. Panic was lurking on the edges of his mind, just waiting for his control to slip. He suddenly spotted Ron. "Ron!" His friend jumped when addressed, clearly startled. "Please tell me this is an after-effect of Voldemort's curse? That it's a side-effect of the Avada Kedavra." He practically begged. He didn't even notice how the two grown-ups in the room grew dangerously pale at his words. "This can't be happening." He continued more to himself, pulling his hands through his hair.

"Arthur." Mrs Weasley's voice was strained. "Call for Dumbledore. He should know who this young man is, and help him." It was clear she thought him mentally unstable.

It was Harry's turn to blanch. "What are you talking about?!" He was growing more desperate the longer time passed by. His nerves were already high strung from the battle, not to mention he had walked to his own death not even an hour ago. This was not helping.

Instead of answering him, Arthur rose and hurried over to the fireplace, threw a pinch of floo-powder on the flames and stuck his head in them. Harry stared at him, wondering if they seriously expected a dead man to answer their call. His eyes grew distant as he thought back to his last talk with professor Dumbledore. He wasn't even sure if it had been real, or if it had all been a figment of his imagination. Either way, the memory of that white, strange-looking King's Cross station was clear in mind.

Before he knew it, Mr Weasley withdrew his head from the flames, which then flared bright green once more to let through an elderly man with a long white beard and half-moon spectacles on his crooked nose. Harry stared for all of one heartbeat before whipping out his wand.

"Who are you?" He demanded harshly. Everyone in the room except for Dumbledore voiced their outrage at his behaviour, bur Harry didn't care.

"I am Albus Dumbledore." Professor Dumbledore answered calmly. "Headmaster of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry."

"Lies." Harry answered firmly. "Professor Dumbledore is dead. I saw him die." He spoke the words harshly. It still hurt, just thinking about that night.

The silence settling after his words was almost palpable.

"Then ask me a question to verify my identity." There was no twinkle in his blue eyes, but they were lit with calculating intelligence instead.

Harry stared intently at him. "Is this a trick?" He asked suspiciously. "You could be a Death Eater." He added, just for good measure. None of this was making any sense.

"What's a Death Eater?" Ron blurted.

Harry rounded on him, incredulity etched on every inch of his face. Ron, who had spent the year -well, most of the year- on the run from Death Eaters, was asking that? He began to back away from them all. It was clear none of them were who they appeared to be. He shot another look at Dumbledore and saw that he was eyeing him warily.

"Fine. What's the name of your sister, and how did she die?" He asked grimly. He hoped no one but Dumbledore would be able to truthfully answer that.

Dumbledore visibly paled, reaching out a hand towards the wall to steady himself. "How do you know about that?" He asked faintly.

Instead of answering, Harry made a dash for the door. This was clearly not the people he knew and loved. He'd retreat and then think of what to do once he had sorted things through. This must be related to Voldemort somehow.

If he had been his usual self, the stunner would have never hit him. But as it were, Harry was exhausted and battered from the battle, and didn't have time to react before the red flash crashed into him.

.o.O.o.

"What is going on?" Arthur demanded, turning to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore tucked away his wand again, studying the unconscious young man on the floor. "I'm not sure." He walked up to him, to study his face closer. "But I must say there's something familiar about him."

"Yeah." Ron, of all people present, agreed.

Dumbledore straightened again, turning back to Arthur and Molly. "How did he get here?"

"That's what I'd like to know!" Molly snapped angrily. "He just turned up here, with an ear-splitting crack! Scared the lot of us half to death!" Her face was flushed and she was clearly upset.

"He even claimed that Fred was dead." Percy informed in a self-important voice. Despite his pompous manner, he was rather pale. That claim had shaken him more than he'd like to admit. "And wondered what he was doing here."

"I see." Dumbledore looked the twins over and then let out a small sigh. "I think it would be best if I take him back to Hogwarts with me. I need to know who he is, especially since he seems to possess extensive knowledge about me." He eyed the boy on the floor.

"Please take him, by all means." Molly snapped.

"Will you let us know what you find out?" Arthur asked. He was considerably more composed than his wife. "I think it will do wonders for our peace of mind." He sent a meaningful glance towards his unsettled children.

"Of course, Arthur." Dumbledore smiled. "Now, do you have something I could use to turn into a portkey?"

"Sure." He scrambled over to the bin, dug out a crumpled piece of paper and handed it over to the headmaster. "Here."

Dumbledore took it without preamble, spelled it with a flick of his wand, and then reached down for the unconscious boy's hand. With a final nod to the Weasleys they disappeared.

.o.O.o.

As soon as they landed in his office, Albus conjured a chair and then placed the boy in it. Poppy walked in briskly through the door not even a minute later, having been called before he left.

"Albus!" She exclaimed as she caught sight of the boy. "What in the world happened to him? It looks like he's been through a war!" She sounded horrified. "Is that blood?"

"I believe it is." Albus answered serenely. "Poppy, would you mind fetching Severus for me?"

"Absolutely not! You think I'll leave a boy alone with you, when he looks like that?!" She sounded outraged at the mere thought.

"I expect that you will. Especially when I don't know who this is, or how he can possess knowledge about things there is no way he should know." Albus was nothing but serious, looking adamantly at the mediwitch.

Poppy stubbornly remained for another two minutes, before she slowly walked out of the office, grumbling darkly to herself all the while.

Albus couldn't quite suppress the fond smile twitching his lips at her behaviour.

Ten minutes later, Severus swept into the room, already glaring daggers at him.

"What do you want?" He demanded sourly. "I'm in the middle of brewing a potion!" It was clear he wasn't happy. Poppy smirked slightly at the headmaster's predicament.

"I wouldn't call you if it wasn't important, Severus." Albus answered patiently. "I trust you have a vial of Veritaserum on you?"

"I always do. Don't trust anyone not to try and break into my stores for it." He scowled. "Why?"

Albus waved a hand towards the boy.

"He hardly looks older than thirteen, Albus." Poppy cut in harshly. "You can't be serious!"

"Please give him the dose, Severus." Albus didn't even acknowledge the fact that the mediwitch had spoken.

Severus eyed the old wizard intently for a few heartbeats, his black eyes gleaming. He then rummaged through his robes and quickly produced a small vial filled with a clear liquid, looking startlingly similar to water. He strode up to the boy, pried his mouth open and then dripped three drops down his throat. Once he nodded towards Albus, the old man waved his wand.

The boy stirred and the opened his eyes. Severus startled. They were green. Just Like Lily's.

"What is your name?" Albus asked briskly.

The boy blinked slowly. "Harry James Potter." His voice sounded slightly slurred, as if every word was difficult to pronounce.

"That's impossible!" Poppy gasped. They all knew Harry; he had spent the last three years at Hogwarts.

"How old are you?" Albus continued, a faint note of trepidation in his voice. You wouldn't have heard it if you weren't very familiar with him, as Severus was.

"Seventeen."

"Why are you here?" Albus asked.

Harry simply blinked up at him, clearly confused.

Albus sighed and tried again. "How did you end up at the Burrow?"

"I suspect it is because of Voldemort's curse." Harry answered slowly.

"Who's Voldemort." Was the next question.

"Lord Voldemort. Birth name Tom Marvolo Riddle. The worst Dark Lord the world has seen in centuries." Harry replied dutifully, although it wasn't really voluntary.

The three in the room all took a moment to think about that. None of them had ever heard that before.

"Why would he curse you?" Severus asked softly, eyeing the boy intently.

"He was trying to kill me. But as the killing curse had failed to work two times, he cast something else at me. I don't know what." Came the truthful response.

"What do you mean 'the killing curse failed'?" Poppy asked, sounding more than horrified and confused.

"I survived the killing curse the first time when I was one year old." Harry made a brief pause. "The other time earlier today."

Poppy gasped.

"Where did you come from?" Albus asked mutedly. He looked more sad than wary now.

"Hogwarts."

"What?" Severus couldn't stop himself.

"I came from the Great Hall in Hogwarts." Harry specified.

"What were you and this Lord Voldemort doing there?" Albus asked gravely.

"Duelling. It was the end of the war. I won, but then I ended up sitting on the floor at the Burrow."

"...war?" Poppy sounded close to fainting.

"Yes. The second war. Voldemort attacked Hogwarts and we fought back. He thought he had killed me, but I survived the Avada Kedavra again. Instead he destroyed his Horcrux, the last one, and I could finally kill him."

"Horcrux?" Albus asked, frowning. He had heard that somewhere, or read about it. Severus felt himself blanch.

"Yes. It's a fragment of soul that has been placed in an object. It makes the witch or wizard that created it immortal." Harry said, as if reading from a script.

"You said; the last one. He made more than one?" Severus voice was barely more than a whisper.

"He intentionally made seven. He believed it would make him invincible." He made a brief pause. "He made an eight one by accident, when he tried to kill me when I was a baby."

"It's not possible to make one by accident!" Severus objected. This topic of conversation truly disturbed him.

"Professor Dumbledore said it happened because his soul was already so unstable after all the other Horcruxes. When the killing curse rebounded and hit him, it split his soul again and a part attached itself to me." He raised a hand to his forehead, where they could see a lightning shaped scar.

"I said that?" Albus sounded thoroughly puzzled.

"Yes."

"Do you know all of us?"

"Yes. Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts. Severus Snape, potions master and professor at Hogwarts. Poppy Pomfrey, mediwitch and nurse at Hogwarts."

"This is impossible." Severus turned mechanically towards Albus. "If what this implies is true..." He let his voice taper off. He was sure Albus was thinking something similar.

"Yes. It's quite remarkable." Albus agreed.

"What?" Poppy hated not being included.

"This Harry Potter is most likely from an alternate dimension." Albus stated gravely. "Severus, I have just one question left to ask, then would you be so kind as to give him the antidote?"

Severus nodded jerkily.

"How did you know about my sister?"

Severus and Poppy both stared at him. Albus had a sister?

"I read a book about your life after you died. It mentioned your sister and why your father went to Azkaban." He paused slightly. "Then I talked to you about it when I died. You told me the truth yourself."

"...when you died?"

"Yes. The Avada Kedavra in the Forbidden forest technically killed me. I was given the choice to move on or come back. I chose to return to my friends."

"This is mindboggling." Poppy breathed. "It's widely acknowledged that it is impossible to survive the Avada Kedavra curse."

"It is." Harry agreed from the chair. "It made me famous." And he managed to pull a face, even under the influence of the Veritaserum. He must feel very strongly about it, to do that. "People called me the Boy-Who-Lived." They could hear the disgust in his voice, despite being muted and overlapped by the drowsiness accompanied by the potion. Severus raised an eyebrow.

"I think it's time for a proper discussion with Harry here, now." Albus capped his hands together. "I sincerely doubt he's any threat to any of us, and it sounds like he knows us all. Severus."

Severus startled and then produced the vial with the antidote. A few drops was all it took.

.o.O.o.

Harry slowly blinked, finding himself staring up at three people he knew very well. Two of whom he had never thought he'd ever see again. At least not alive, and in person. Then his memories caught up to him and he jumped to his feet.

"You used Veritaserum!" He croaked. The potion had done nothing to sooth his throat. He scowled at the imposturous headmaster. "You could have just asked." He narrowed his eyes. "And I still don't know who you are." He glared from Dumbledore to Snape and back again.

"You just clearly admitted to knowing who all three of us are." Snape said stiffly, his lips barely moving. A strange emotion flitted across Harry's face, faster than they could interpret it.

"Professor Dumbledore died when I was sixteen. Professor Snape died last night." He glared pointedly at them. "Which makes it obvious you're not them." He spat.

"I died? How?" Snape seemingly couldn't stop the words from leaving his mouth.

"Voldemort murdered you. He personally ordered his snake, Nagini, to kill you." Harry answered slowly. The memory left him slightly green.

"And Albus?" Poppy asked.

Harry glanced at her. "Snape killed him." All three of them startled. "Professor Dumbledore made you promise to do it." He said, turning his emerald eyes to Snape. "It was to make sure Voldemort wouldn't become even more powerful."

That reassured him, somewhat. But Severus shot Albus a dark look. He didn't like the sound of it, even now. He wondered what his counterpart must have felt.

"What surprises me is that none of us have ever heard of this Dark Lord." Albus spoke softly.

Harry turned to look at him, eyes wide. "The you're all very lucky." The mere thought was staggering.

After a stretch of uncomfortable silence, Albus spoke up again. "Harry, my boy. I believe you come from an alternative reality, which would explain why Severus and I are still alive here, and any other differences you might come across." Albus stated, abruptly changing the subject.

Harry blinked.

"What?" He didn't like the sound of that.

"It would explain your sudden appearance, the fact that you know all of us, while none of us has ever seen you before. And the fact that there now exists two Harry Potters."

Harry startled. "There's another me here?" He asked numbly.

"Indeed it is." Dumbledore inclined his head. "He will begin his fourth hear this September."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "How is that possible? He should have already graduated." And then a thought struck him. "Wait. What year is it?"

"1997."

Harry gaped. "Then I honestly don't understand." He stated faintly. The day suddenly caught up to him and Harry staggered. Poppy immediately stepped up to him, looking him over concernedly.

"Are you injured?" She asked, all professionalism now.

"Don't know." Harry muttered roughly. He had been hit with the Avada Kedavra. And a few Crucios... not that that was anything new.

"Albus." Poppy whipped her head towards the headmaster. "I'm taking him to the Hospital wing. He clearly needs treatment. If you object to this, I resign!"

"Alright, Poppy dear." Albus simply nodded.

"And if you want to talk to him further, you can do so tomorrow. In the Hospital wing!" And she promptly marched out of the office, helping Harry along.

It wasn't until Poppy practically carried him through the castle that Harry noticed that he was considerably shorter than he remembered being.

.o.O.o.

"Perhaps we should contact the Potters." Snape voiced reluctantly.

"Really, Severus? You are suggesting this?" Albus' eyes twinkled faintly.

"It clearly concerns them, in a way." He couldn't quite suppress the sneer.

Albus let out a heavy sigh. "But what do I tell them? That a second copy of their son has suddenly appeared?" He mused out loud.

"It's the truth. Let Potter deal with it."

"And what about his wife?" Albus asked with a knowing smile.

Severus froze. "She'll want to take care of him, no doubt."

"Yes. He is rather alarmingly thin." Albus frowned. "I doubt James and Lily would ever neglect their son in such a manner. Unless there's a significant difference between them here and there."

"Maybe he did something to deserve it." Severus suggested sullenly.

"Severus." Albus admonished sharply. "I thought you, of all people, would know that children never deserve such punishments."

Severus crossed his arms in front of his chest, but said nothing.

"I'll fire-call the Potters as soon as Harry wakes up tomorrow." Albus decided, nodding to himself. "Let's hope they take the news with a level head."

"There's always hope." Severus sneered, and then swept from the room, just as abruptly as he had entered.

.o.O.o.