Diagon Alley was much as he remembered from his first few visits to
collect his school supplies. There was only one significant
difference - while several people nodded greetings to his mother, Harry
himself only garnered a few puzzled glances, which were explained away
when one nosy witch confronted them.
"Taking the day off school, Theodore dear?" she pressed, after a perfunctory greeting, an odd glint in her eye.
Lily smiled sweetly at the woman. "Why, yes, I simply couldn't
leave him in a dorm where dragonpox might be running rampant."
"Dragonpox!" the woman exclaimed, backing off hastily. Lily bade
her a lingering farewell, before winking at Harry
surreptitiously. "I only said 'might be'," she explained with a
satisfied smile. "One of the boys in Theo's dorm did have it a
few weeks back."
Harry could only blink, a little taken aback.
Ollivander's wand shop was just as dusty as the day he had first entered it, and the proprietor himself just as mysterious.
"Ah, Lily and Harry Potter," he greeted them, his eyes focussing on
Harry, seemingly penetrating to the very core of his being. "You
have the same eyes."
Harry couldn't resist darting a quick glance at Lily, their eyes
meeting briefly before he lowered his gaze. Ollivander's own
interest had drifted higher.
"Ah," he murmured staring intently at the scar on Harry's brow.
He lifted his hand, tracing the jagged outline with one finger.
Harry fought back a shudder as the touch set his nerves tingling.
"Mr Ollivander," Lily stepped forward, her tone cautionary.
The old wandmaker looked into Harry's eyes for an interminable second before stepping back behind the counter.
"Albus informed me of your interest in this particular wand," he said,
placing a particularly filthy box on the counter between them, a small
cloud of dust spreading from it upon impact. Harry began to reach
for it only to freeze as Ollivander continued. "However, you
would do well to note that people do change over time. This wand
may have suited you in your world when you were eleven, but I will not
give this wand to you if it is not the right one for you as you are now. The wand chooses the wizard, Mr Potter. Always."
Harry nodded slightly, then reached forward again. His hand
hadn't even touched the box before a shimmering light enveloped
it. The lid flew open, the wand leaping into Harry's hand with a
shower of green and gold sparks.
"Well, Mr Potter," Ollivander conceded with an anticipatory smile, "it
seems that this wand most definitely chooses you. In fact, I
haven't seen such a match in many a long year. I expect to see
great deeds from you, Mr Potter, deeds to equal those of the wizard
holding your wand's brother."
Harry could have done without hearing that. He knew very well
what he was capable of doing with this wand, and he didn't care to
repeat the experience. Laughter bubbled unbecomingly in his
ears. It took a moment for him to recognise it as his own.
"Harry?"
He swallowed the ugly chuckles as Lily touched his shoulder
lightly. "I don't think even you would want to see that," he said
to the old wandmaker darkly.
"Then will I see Mr Riddle's course of destruction continued unchecked?" came the quick retort.
"Enough," Lily cut in, saving Harry from having to supply a response he
wasn't certain he could follow through on. "How much do we
owe you for the wand?"
Ollivander named a figure which she promptly paid. It wasn't long
before they were back on Diagon Alley, Harry's wand once again tucked
discreetly into his sleeve. It was simultaneously a comforting
weight and a cumbersome burden. He tried not to think about it
either way.
"Would you like to stop by Florean Fortescue's?" Lily inquired with an
encouraging smile. "It hardly seems like a trip to Diagon Alley
without ice cream."
Harry shook his head dumbly. He didn't think he'd be able to keep
his stomach's contents if he tried to eat anything now. A tall
wizard brushed peremptorily past him, and he shrank closer to Lily's
side. The afternoon crowds were out in full force, making the
street seem much smaller - and louder - that it actually was.
"Can we just leave?" he half-mumbled under his breath - and almost walked into Lily when she halted abruptly.
"Do you still want to see Remus?" she asked softly, turning to face him.
Harry nodded distractedly. He would have been happy to go just
about anywhere that involved less people being around. Less
innocent victims in the making...
"All right, then."
She grasped his hand, leading him easily through the streams of
people. He was too startled to do more than simply follow in her
wake, the pressure of her hand on his a comfort that oddly outweighed
thoughts of the wand pressed tight against the skin of his
forearm.
"Here we are."
He blinked, surprised to find himself inside the Leaky Cauldron,
standing beside one of the fireplaces. Lily pointed out the pot
of Floo powder on the mantelpiece.
"You have travelled by Floo before?" she asked when he hesitated.
He nodded and retrieved a pinch of powder. "Just call out 'St
Mungo's', and you'll be taken to their reception area. I'll be
right behind you."
Several seconds later he'd emerged more or less unscathed from the
clutches of the green flames and was on his hands and knees on the
floor of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
He wasn't alone.
"I see you like floo travel about as much as I do," said Lily wryly,
climbing to her feet and brushing ineffectively at the layer of soot
coating her clothes. A smile tugged at Harry's lips - only to
flee abruptly as Lily spat genteelly onto a handkerchief and tried to
clean his face. "Hold still - this won't kill you. There,
all better."
He forbore mentioning the streak of soot that darkened her nose.
Lily ushered him along various sterile corridors until they entered
territory that was all too familiar to him. He paused by one
particular door. Unable to resist the draw of curiosity, he
opened it to reveal a starkly furnished room that was so very similar
to the one in his memory. The only difference was that this time
he was looking in from the outside.
"Harry?"
He started at the sound of her voice, his head snapping around to face her.
"Is something wrong?"
He turned away, not knowing how to answer, except -
"No. Nothing's wrong."
She frowned, but didn't challenge him as he closed the door and resumed
their journey down the corridor. Upon reaching their destination
he nearly turned around and headed back to that all-too-familiar
room. At least that room was not bathed in blood in his
memories. He blinked away the red, desperately focussing on the
white as Lily knocked on the door and pushed it open.
"Remus? I've brought you a visitor."
The werewolf was pale and wan, but sitting up, supported by pillows. A book lay open in his lap.
"Lily, Harry," he greeted them with a warm smile. "Do come in."
It seemed like an eternity before Harry was able to make his body take
the few steps across the room to Remus' bedside. Even then he
couldn't help jumping as Lily closed the door behind them.
"Leave it open!" he snapped at once.
"Harry - "
"Just - " he broke off, swallowing his words. "Please," he began again, more calmly, "just leave it open."
Frowning, Lily glanced at Remus before opening the door again. Raising her wand she directed it towards the open doorway.
"No!"
The wand deflected in her hands so that it would not point at the door no matter how she held it.
"Harry, don't tell me this is nothing," she began, moving towards
him. He backed away until his back was quite literally
against the wall. He folded his arms one over the other to hide
how his hands trembled.
"Lily, let him be," Remus' quiet voice held them both where they were. "Harry, can you tell me why we need the door open?"
"So we can hear them coming, of course!" Harry answered in a harsh
whisper, already hearing their footsteps echoing in his ears in time
with his heartbeat.
"Who is coming?"
"The Death Eaters! They'll be here soon!" He could hear the screams in the distance, coming closer, ever closer -
"Lily, you need to take Harry out of here, now!"
"Lily, take Harry and go!"
"No! You're coming too!" Harry refused to leave him behind
- he wouldn't let him die again. He reached out with one hand,
his wand tingling against the flesh of his arm as the magic swelled
within him.
"What are you doing?!"
Another hand on his - he held it fast, clutching it with a death-grip as they fell together into oblivion.
*** *** ***
"Mr Potter," Madam Pomfrey stated in tones bordering on disgust, "this is an infirmary for students who are ill or injured. That animal is not a student!"
"How do you know?" Simon protested. "It could be someone stuck transfigured as a rat!"
He'd been arguing with her for a good five minutes, and all the while
the rat had been bleeding into his hands. They were slippery with
blood now, and stank in a metallic way. He could still feel the
faint pulse of the creature's heart, though, and he didn't intend to
give up while there was any chance it might still live.
Down in the tunnel he'd tried to put it out of its misery, but he
simply hadn't had the heart. It had looked up at him with those
dark, beady eyes, so terribly helpless and yet fighting so hard for
every single breath. It had scrabbled futilely against the
ground, trying to drag itself along regardless of the mangled state of
its body. In its own way, it was as stubborn as he had ever
been. He had to respect that, even in a rat.
"Just take the filthy creature to Professor Bear and be done with it!"
"But Madam Pomfrey - "
"Mr Potter!" she practically shouted, forcing him into silence.
"I have had quite enough! The skills, medicine and expertise I
have at my disposal are not intended for use on animals!"
"But what if it's not really a rat?"
"Oh, for heaven's sake, child!" She pulled out her wand and cast
a quick spell. Her face fell along with the detransfigured form
as it slipped through Simon's fingers. They both stared in horror
at the wreck of a man lying on the floor between them, until a low moan
startled the nurse into movement. With a flick of her wand she
had him into a bed, and several vials of potions floating over from her
storage cupboard. Simon watched, dumbstruck, as she ran her wand
intently over his body. He heard her inhale sharply when
she came to his head.
"Madam Pomfrey, is he - ?" he trailed off, unable to finish.
"Mr Potter, go fetch the Headmaster - and your father. Hurry!"
He hesitated a moment, staring at them with wide eyes as the distorted
features suddenly came together in his mind to form a familiar
face. Then he ran.
*** *** ***
James Potter stared sightlessly out the window of the Divination
classroom. There was an itch in his blood that made him want to
be anywhere but here, supervising the efforts of one of the most
promising divination students at Hogwarts. It was rather
unfortunate that out of all the possible divination methods, the
student in question, one Catherine Walker, was proving to be most adept
at haruspicy. James found it hard to take entrails seriously -
unless you added the word 'nauseating' afterwards - but Catherine had
managed to foresee a couple of odd events using this unlikely means,
and if that was what worked for her he wasn't going to complain.
True Sight was very rare, and rarely controllable. Through
haruspicy Catherine was learning to manage and focus her sight in a way
that James, for all the strength of his gift, was yet unable to
completely achieve.
He sighed, ruefully - and clutched at the windowsill as the world lurched beneath him.
"Professor? Are you all right?"
He blinked, startled to see Catherine hovering solicitously by his elbow.
"I - " he broke off, looking around uncertainly. "Something's wrong."
"I know," she agreed. "But I can't make out what!"
He looked instinctively over to her table, where she had carefully
sliced open and disembowelled a rat, and promptly lifted a hand to his
mouth as his stomach lurched with depressing familiarity. Looking
away, he swore that this time he'd find another type of animal that she
could work with, one that didn't have so many memories associated with
it. No more rats -
He was grateful that Catherine managed to get the basin to him before
he lost the contents of his stomach. By the time Simon burst into
the classroom he had nothing left in him to throw up.