Destiny Reversed

Wow, thanks for all the wonderful reviews! There were way more than I expected! Keep them up; it helps for me to read your feedback. This is a really quick update for me, so enjoy the chapter!

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Harry didn't think he was ready to see his parents, especially if this was just an illusion the Death Eaters had orchestrated. Still, Harry wasn't sure how they could have gotten Sirius' personality so accurately. Even if they did have Bellatrix, he'd gotten the impression that they hadn't known each other very well. Or maybe they did. He really hadn't known much about Sirius's time at Grimmauld Place, had he?

Carefully, Harry pocketed his wand, keeping it in easy reach. Whether or not the people downstairs looked like family, he would be ready and wary of them.

But what had confused him the most was the way the redhead had looked at him when she entered, almost as if there was something wrong with him and not the world. Still, why hadn't she said anything when she had the chance?

He felt indifferent to his shaking hands. Bringing them up to eye level, he watched the twitching muscles, remembering how his friends had writhed in pain, agony he had brought upon them by bringing them there.

They should never have gone to the Department of Mysteries, for so many reasons.

He brought one hand to grip the other, trying to make the trembling stop, willing himself to calm down. After a few minutes he noticed the shaking cease and wiped his wet palms on the unfamiliar jeans.

Harry closed his eyes and dared to wish that Hermione and Ron would magically appear in front of him, so they could face this together, like they had planned. Here he was, by himself in this strange, yet somewhat familiar room, thrust into something he was not prepared to face -but isn't that what he had wanted? They didn't deserve to shoulder this burden, the one he was supposed to face alone.

To be honest, he would prefer to face Voldemort than walk down those hollow stairs, past the place where a cupboard should be and into a living room that probably would not contain the porcelain cat that always seemed to watch Harry with its frozen eyes wherever he went, reminding him of his freakishness.

Exhale.

He descended the steps slowly, freezing once when he heard Sirius's bark-like laugh. Shaking himself out of his stupor, Harry cautiously approached what he assumed to be the living room, listening hungrily to the laughter and talk. Forgetting himself for a moment, he was content to lean against the wall and absorb the unfamiliar atmosphere, this rare joy that seemed so limited lately.

This shouldn't be hard. It was just Sirius and his long dead parents, after all.

He exhaled in frustration. How the hell was he supposed to defeat Voldemort when he couldn't even walk into a room? Granted, it was a room full of people who were supposed to be dead, but still -

"Harry, is that you out there?"

Frowning, he placed himself in the middle of the doorway, severely tempted to make a run for the unbarred door. "Er -I guess."

A woman with familiar eyes looked up at him, smiling brightly. He knew this woman. How could he not, when he saw those same eyes every time he looked in the mirror?

"Mum."

Lily Potter pointed to the armchair next to her. As if on autopilot, Harry's legs carried him across a room of ghosts and into a chair that seemed to welcome his weight with a gentleness Aunt Petunia's cushions never quite managed. He couldn't help but stare, wondering why no one had ever mentioned that they shared more than green eyes.

He recognized the cheekbones, the tiny quirk of the right side of the lip, little things people normally did not connect. Perhaps Lily and James Potter were starting to become as fuzzy to everyone else as they've always been for Harry, just vague memories and pictures, frozen in time to forever dance amongst the leaves.

Lily startled him by running a perfectly solid hand through his hair affectionately. "You're a lost cause," she said with a wistful smile. "I could never for the life of me get your or your father's hair flattened. Thank Merlin Violet didn't inherit that particular gene."

Violet?

Lily turned away from her son and towards Sirius and the redheaded girl. "Harriet! Come over here!"

The redheaded girl scowled and dragged her feet towards them. "Mum," she whined, "don't call me that!"

He blinked. Mum?

"Why not, Violet? It's a perfectly nice name."

Violet scoffed. "It's disgusting, practically Harry's name."

"You know, your Dad and I came very close to having Harry and Harriet," Lily added.

"Thank Merlin you didn't," Violet muttered. "It'd be horrible, we'd get teased so much, wouldn't we Harry?"

"Uh -"

"Blink. You look like a toad."

"No," he snapped, remembering frilly bows and pink cardigans. "You don't -"

"I would've killed James if he had put you two through that humiliation," Sirius interrupted. "Almost like poor Dora; I still don't know what Andromeda had been thinking."

Harry tore his eyes away from his deceased godfather, for a moment forgetting that none of this was real. He couldn't help but wonder if Sirius was Violet's godfather too. He scrutinized his so-called "sister" carefully. She looked like she was a couple of years younger than him, fifteen maybe?

"Which is why we decided to go with 'Violet' instead of 'Harriet'. Can't break the Evans flower girl tradition, can we?"

However, her daughter's response was interrupted by rustling outside of the room. Abandoning her argument, Violet raced to the door and ran into the arms of James Potter. "Daddy!"

He smiled and moved the big brown bag he was carrying out of the way, revealing a softly smiling Remus behind him.

"Got the firewhiskey!" James announced, holding the brown paper bag up high.

Harry should have expected this. Of course the illusion would not be complete without his father -or the Death Eater impersonating him. But he wasn't ready, not at all. The man beaming at him had more severe, aristocratic features, but he still bore an immense resemblance to his son, except for the hazel eyes. Violet's eyes.

What a cheap parallel.

James's gaze fell on Harry, and he grinned mischievously. "Remember when you were five and decided to raid the alcohol cabinet?"

"N -no."

These people had sacrificed their lives for him; he couldn't believe they would be discussing firewhiskey misdemeanors at a time like this. But his father kept on talking as if he had not been interrupted. "Well, I suppose this is a much more appropriate time."

Lily made a face. "This doesn't give you permission to binge, mind. It sets a bad example for Violet, and for obvious reasons."

Sirius winked at Harry from behind his mother, rolling his eyes.

Remus remained quiet as he leaned on the wall, smiling serenely and watching them bicker; his passivity was a strange comfort to Harry, anchoring him to something he knew. Still, wouldn't they have attacked already if they were Death Eaters? Even the satisfaction of baiting Harry with the family he never had should not have lasted as long as this.

This must be a dream; what other explanation could there be?

Harry pinched himself, and was so surprised to feel the pain that he yelped out loud.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Lily asked immediately.

"Nothing, Mum."

He could have kicked himself. Was he really that easy to draw in?

Lost in the muddle of his thoughts, he didn't catch Violet staring at him strangely, hazel eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"You're in my armchair," James said. "You're too big now to sit on my lap, so up!"

"C'mon, James, it's his birthday." Sirius laughed. "It's not as if he's going to puke all over your precious armchair; the poor piece of furniture has already taken enough abuse from you. What else could Harry do?"

Remus chuckled, which turned into a fit of coughs when James turned around towards him indignantly, looking wounded. "You too, Remus? Merlin, the kid has you lot wrapped around his talented Quidditch skilled fingers." He ruffled his son's hair affectionately, frowning when Harry edged away from him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

His father reached into the brown bag and pulled out a bottle of firewhiskey. "Drink up!" James said cheerfully, thrusting the bottle into Harry's wary hands. They must be hoping to get him drunk and passed out, but wouldn't a Stunner be simpler?

Harry scowled. There was no way that was going to happen. Hesitating with the bottle, he tried to think of a way to dance around it. "Er -how 'bout cake first?"

"Your birthday," James said, shrugging.

Violet frowned. "But you've been talking about this for months. Not that it'd matter," she added, eyes twinkling mischievously, "since you've been sneaking firewhiskey from Hogsmeade with the rest of the Quidditch team!"

Harry stared. "No I didn't."

Still, Lily rounded on him, her voice sharp and underlined with anger. "Is this true?"

He could only shrug indifferently, but apparently it was the wrong thing to do.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" she roared, but Harry only sat there blinking at her, slightly stunned. It's not like he wasn't used to being yelled at; his aunt and uncle had eagerly dealt out punishments and lectures multiple times a week before he'd had the threat of a mass murderer godfather looming over their heads. However, having the source of the yelling be your deceased mother was an entirely different matter.

She snatched the firewhiskey out of his hands and thrust it back at her husband. "If it wasn't your birthday, you'd be grounded," she said, this time calmer. "But no firewhiskey, do you understand me?!"

"Yes," Harry said meekly, distinctly reminded of Mrs. Weasley.

The three Marauders winced in sympathy for Harry. Each and every one of them had been on the receiving end of one of Lily Potter's angry outbursts at least once before; every day for three years in James's case.

He couldn't think. They must be Death Eaters, but their actions weren't making any sense. Despite his suspicion, Harry had to admit that they had done a good job. If he hadn't known any better, he would have thought all of this was real.

They didn't seem to pose an immediate threat to him; perhaps it'd be best to follow their lead and collect information while they feel safe, their deception undiscovered. Still, he felt a stab of guilt about this plan. He had to admit that there was some selfish motivation for this course of action, but he refused to let that deter him. It seemed like a good plan; it didn't matter that it allowed him to see Sirius, alive and laughing, and Remus, younger and devoid of half the worry lines his real self had. Illusion or not, this seemed to be a much happier place.

Harry wondered if the Prophecy existed here.

Lily went back into the kitchen to get the cake, casting Sirius and her husband warning looks. "Don't you dare give him any firewhiskey, not a sip!"

"I'll help you," Violet said quickly, following her mother to the kitchen.

After casting Violet a strange glance, Lily nodded and waved her into the kitchen, leaving Harry with the three Marauders.

Once they were safely in the kitchen, away from prying ears, Lily rounded on her daughter. "What's going on?" she demanded. At Violet's stunned look, Lily sighed. "Let's not dance around it. What did you need to talk to me about?"

"It's about Harry," Violet said quietly. "I'm worried that he's -er- forgetting things."

"Forgetting what?"

"This morning, when I went to wake him up, he reached for his glasses and wand on the opposite side of where his bedside table is. But that's not what I'm really worried about. Once he got a good look at me, he acted like he didn't know me, and pointed his bloody wand at me!"

"He threatened you?"

Violet nodded. "He recognized Sirius though. Still acted weird around him. When he walked in, Harry looked as if he'd just had the biggest shock of his life, like he was seeing a ghost or something. Do you think he's still having side effects from before, that Quidditch injury?"

Frowning, Lily turned to Violet. "Speaking of Quidditch, you aren't drinking firewhiskey with the rest of the team, are you?"

"No!" Violet said quickly. "It's only the six and seventh years on the team. Harry refused to let me go."

Grunting in acceptance, Lily pulled out the cake. "Well, if he doesn't recognize anybody, why hasn't he said anything?"

"I think he recognized you, Dad, and Uncle Remus."

Lily remembered the strange way Harry had looked at her, almost as if it had been the first time he'd ever seen her. The way he'd called her "Mum" -she should have seen it. "I'm not sure what's going on, but let's let him enjoy the birthday, and we'll take him to St. Mungo's for an examination tomorrow, okay? Don't worry."

"Harry!"

Loud, agonized screams echoed from the living room, followed by James's frantic voice. Both women dashed back, cake forgotten, and arrived at a disturbing sight.

Harry was on the ground, writhing in pain and scratching at his forehead brutally, a hoarse, animalistic kind of scream Lily hadn't heard since the old days, when Voldemort had overrun England the first time. Lily gaped at the sight, terrified when she saw the crimson blood trickling down Harry's face, thick and startling. The three Marauders were desperately trying to hold him down, with James managing to wrench Harry's hands away from his forehead, his son fighting him all the way. It took all of his strength to keep Harry from hurting himself any more, but after a few more seconds of struggle, Harry became still.

The rest of the adults cautiously approached a heavily breathing Harry, his face ghastly pale and dripping in sweat, stormy green eyes crazed and unfocused.

"Harry?" Violet squeaked.

"Give him some room," Lily said, softly cupping Harry's face in her hands. She could feel herself trembling; it took every bit of her Gryffindor courage to keep the terror out of her voice. But her son merely stared through her, as if she wasn't there, and closed his eyes, his body suddenly becoming limp in James's arms.

James put an arm under Harry's legs and shakily got to his feet, lifting his thin son like a rag doll. "I'll Apparate him to St. Mungo's," he said quietly, his eyes reflecting a fear that rarely graced the usually confident James Potter.

The rest of the group nodded in silent agreement, and with a faint pop, all except Violet and Lily were gone.

"Mum, what'll happen to Harry?"

Lily didn't look at her. "I don't know, Vi."

Doing the only thing she could, Lily grabbed her daughter's hand, squeezed it reassuringly, and Apparated to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

When they arrived, they found Remus waiting for them. "They've taken him up to the Emergency Ward," he said softly, turning around and leading the way silently. Remus's face had been devoid of emotion, increasing the unease deeply settled in Lily's chest. Remus was never one to express much emotion, but she knew him well enough to know when her friend was afraid, and smart enough to know she would be a fool not to be.

They found both James and Sirius waiting outside a ward, Sirius sitting down on a chair, eyes glazed, while James paced up and down the corridor, the rigidness of his posture contributing to his feet's sharp pivots back and forth along the tiles.

"What's wrong with him, Dad?" Violet asked, straining to keep the panic out of her voice. "Why was he clawing at his forehead like that?"

James sighed and finally stopped pacing. "I don't know," he said tiredly. "We just got here. A Healer is checking up on him now."

Silence swept over them as they waited for what felt like an eternity in the ward, the halls eerily silent and foreboding.

"Harry's going to be fine," Sirius muttered, squeezing his niece's arm. "He's hit enough goal posts and survived too many Bludgers to be not okay now."

The aged door creaked open, causing them to spring up from their chairs, attempting to read the expression on the Healer's impassive face.

"He's stable and resting peacefully now," the Healer said. "We're not sure exactly how it happened, but it seemed like something overloaded his brain to the point of agony or caused nightmare-like delusions that -"

James scowled. "In other words, you have no idea what's happened to him."

"Can we see him?" Sirius asked.

The Healer nodded. "Feel free, but he won't wake up for a while. I'll be back later to check up on him."

However, the moment the Healer's echoing footsteps faded around the corner, an intern came dashing through the door. "Is there a James Potter here?"

"That's me. What is it?"

"There's an owl outside with a note for you from the Ministry; it looks pretty important," the intern said breathlessly. "Owls aren't allowed inside the wards so you'll have to go out there. It won't let me remove the note."

James nodded. With one last worried look behind him, he followed the intern.

Without another word, those remaining walked into the ward, either sitting or kneeling beside Harry. Lily put her hand in his and gave it a squeeze, still shocked from seeing her son convulsing on the floor so fiercely, so terribly. Shuddering, she hoped that it was a one time incident -this can't happen again.

Harry stirred, turning his head to the other side, near Sirius, whose eyes widened as he saw Harry's eyes open slightly. The normally clear green was cloudy and unfocused, in a fog of nightmares and memories.

"S -Sirius?"

"Yeah, Harry, it's me," Sirius said gently. Violet made a move to join Sirius, but Lily stopped her with a shake of her head.

Harry laughed weakly, eyes blurred with tears. "No, it can't be you -you're dead. Am I dead? Did -did Voldemort get me?"

The other occupants of the room exchanged bewildered glances at each other, their minds swimming with questions and worries. Violet caught her mother's eye, reminding her of their unfinished conversation in the kitchen.

"No, Harry, I'm right here; I'm fine."

"B -but I saw you! I saw -I saw you fall through the veil..." Harry murmured softly.

"Veil? What veil?"

But before he could question Harry further, Harry's eyes closed and he fell back into unconsciousness.

"Padfoot?" Remus said. "What'd he say?"

Sirius sighed. "I don't know. Harry said that he saw me fall through some veil, but that doesn't make any sense. Last time I encountered a dangerous piece of cloth was when my mother threatened to strangle me with the curtains."

Just then, James returned, a piece of parchment clutched in his weary hands.

"What'd the Ministry want, James?" Lily asked calmly. No need to alarm James yet with the strange things Harry had just said

"Death Eater attack, about twenty minutes ago. They want all Aurors to go in and help." He hesitated, unwilling to deliver the worst news. "They say that Voldemort is there."

Involuntary shudders chilled the room as the adults caught each other's eyes and avoided Violet's. Both Lily and Sirius got up reluctantly; but as Aurors and members of the Order of the Phoenix, they had a duty to try and help.

Lily cast a worried look back at Harry, then met Remus's eyes.

"Don't worry, Lily, I won't let anything happen to Harry or Violet," Remus assured her. "I'll be right here. Can you make my excuses?" He couldn't leave them by themselves.

"Let's check up with the Order first," Sirius suggested.

Nodding, the three Aurors Apparated to Number 12 Grimmauld Place with a loud pop.

Frowning, Remus turned back to Harry, pondering the strange timing of Voldemort's attack and Harry's spasm. But he merely shrugged it off, Remus tried hard to not think about it. It was preposterous, really; it was just a coincidence -or so the werewolf tried to convince himself. Unfortunately, he could not shake that ominous feeling, and was left more worried than ever.