*sequel to A Gutter Rat’s Tale* Severus and Harry set out to discover the secrets that entwine the only items that Harry's great-grandmother left Severus. Doing so may or may not revive the Snape-Potter family lineage, but it will, very literally, drag ghosts of the past, skeletons from the closet, and counterparts who walked separate paths in life.
Chapter 18
Chapter Summary:
*sequel to A Gutter Rat's Tale* Severus and Harry set out to discover the secrets that entwine the only items that Harry's great-grandmother left Severus. Doing so may or may not revive the Snape-Potter family lineage, but it will, very literally, drag ghosts out of the past, skeletons from the closet, and counterparts who walked separate paths in life.
Posted:
03/06/2005
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308
Author's Note:
Contrary to most beliefs, I am not dead.
Nandin found his sister seated on the floor in one of Hogwarts' hallways. There were scattered pieces of what looked like charcoal, an overturned tray, two oven mitts, and a small pink egg nestled in Marcia's lap. Nandin leaned against the wall next to Marcia when she did not move.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Hush." Marcia waved him quiet. "It's hatching!" Nandin could see fine cracks that spread through the eggshell. Marcia glowed proudly as a large chunk of eggshell fell away. More followed until a tiny figure emerged.
Nandin's eyebrows shot upw in surprise.
Sirius Black wiped goo away from his eyes and looked around in amazement. Sprouting from his back was a pair of red feathered wings. They were gunky and slimy-looking, but promised of great grace and beauty. He poked them curiously.
"Isn't he cute?" Marcia whispered proudly.
Sirius gave her an oddly blank look. "Where am I?" he asked. "Who are you?" He looked at his wings again. "What am I?" He tugged at one of the wings. "Are these even natural?" he muttered to himself as he eyed the red feathers.
"You are Sirius Black!" Marcia gushed brightly. She petted him with a single finger. "And I am Marcia Runes! Together, you and I are going to annoy Professor Snape!"
Sirius scratched his head. "Last I remember was standing next to Harry and this crack in the flo - wait." He blinked. "Did you say annoy Professor Snape?" A slow smile broke across his face. It was the smile of a man dying from thirst who had just been handed a cold beer. Sirius' wings fluttered. "It's a dream come true," he whispered.
"Let's go!" Marcia jumped to her feet and hurried away with her new little pet.
Nandin studied Marcia's brownies. He picked up one and tried to break it in half. When that did not succeed, he beat it against the wall, and only managed to put a dent in the stone. With that, he decided the brownies would be highly useful as deadly missiles against the enemy. He gathered them up. Each brownie was placed in a pocket. Weighed down with enough cookies to poison the majority of Voldemort's private army, Nandin Sydney waddled off in search of some victims on which to test his newly-found weapons.
One final leap, and the reality-jumpers found themselves in a reality utterly different from any other.
It was summertime at Hogwarts, and no one was about. The sense of peace that emitted from the walls had not been disturbed for many years. This reality had not been touched by the horror known as Voldemort. The wizarding world was at such peace that only Hagrid and Filch dwelled at Hogwarts. The great old castle was safe from worry or harm.
Harry and the others did not know this as they wandered through the warm, empty hallways of Hogwarts. They could feel the peace though. The sense of harmony permeated from the very walls, sublime with senses of taste and touch.
"It's like we're home finally," Draco said with a voice full of awe.
Severus drifted in and out one of the hall walls in lazy figure-eight circles. "Yes," he said thoughtfully to himself as he entered the hallway. "I would say that we are home." He drifted through one wall and floated through the floor beneath Harry's feet. Harry squeaked and jumped out of the way. "Home to a place that someone forgot to lock the windows and left the door wide open."
Francis nodded in agreement. "It does have a sense of vulnerability. Come; let's find someone to ask why this place isn't war-ridden like all the other realities." He picked up Pandora's Box and marched purposefully forward with his desperate flag of surrender concocted from a stained white handkerchief and his wand. He looked as is if in search of some living soul.
Or something close, Harry added silently as he remembered the Hogwarts ghosts. Draco picked up the Mirror of Rebounds and fell into step behind Harry. Harry2 followed closely behind to be sure that Draco did not do something suspicious.
Severus floated through one wall and disappeared. Like a little brood of ducklings, the two Harrys and Draco followed after Francis, who strode forward like a mother duck intent upon the distant pond in which to train her precious brood to swim in. Oddly enough, the way that Francis shifted his feet from side to side, propelled his weight forward, and fluffed his canary-yellow robes reminisced of how very much like a duck he was; of how strange he had become since being swallowed by Fawkes.
Maybe it's the stress, Harry thought to himself as he studied the others for the first time. Harry thought he had been strapped for time many other moments in his life, but he never realized what a luxury it was to be able to slow down enough for his thought to catch up with him. They were often instead, quite literally, left behind in practically a whole other universe. I mean, all this reality jumping can't be healthy for someone of his, well, sort. Probably isn't healthy for me either. His temples throbbed with the pounding waves of a migraine. He knew from the pinched look on Harry2's face that the fire demon was not feeling much better himself. My kingdom for aspirin, Harry thought dismally as he pressed his hand against his forehead. A kingdom to trade for aspirin.
He stared at Francis' heels as they walked through the halls. Francis went down one end from another end of the hall, through door after door. Not once did Francis pause, but Harry could not shake the feeling that Francis had just gotten lost in Hogwarts. Of course, it had been a while since they had actually been inside a Hogwarts Castle that was not filled with traps or missing several different floors, towers, or passageways.
"Hark!" Francis skidded to a halt too quickly for Harry to react. He collided with Francis and together they nearly toppled over.
"What is it?" Harry, Harry2, and Draco peered curiously around Francis' shoulder.
"It's me!" Francis walked over a large portrait on the wall and looked into it. Inside the portrait was another Francis. This Francis tinkered with several rubber bands and a stick. Harry was not sure of what it may be, but it looked as if it had something to do with perpetual motion.
At the sound of Francis' exclamation, the tinkering Francis looked up. He squinted and fiddled with the frames of his glasses as he stared at the reality-jumpers.
"You," he said distinctly, "are not from around here."
"I'm Francis Potter," said Francis, "and you are my portrait."
The painted Francis nodded his head. "Indeed. But you're supposed to be dead. Or I'm supposed to be dead. Well, the me that is you."
Francis sighed. "Did I fall off the broom again, break my neck, and die instantly?"
Portrait-Francis tinkered about with his rubber bands for a moment, lost in thought, before he reacted to what Francis said. "Wait - fall off the broom again?" He frowned at Francis. "Why would you do it a second time?"
"It's slightly more complex than that," Francis said tiredly. "You see, I am, well . . . here." He took Dumbledore's letter and unfolded it. He held it out for Portrait-Francis to read, who squinted and adjusted his glasses. Harry, tired and weary, sat down on the floor with his back pressed against the wall. Draco and Harry2 followed suit. Portrait-Francis sighed when he finished reading. He looked forlornly at his contraption of rubber bands and stick before he pulled a chair out of some place beyond the edge of his frame and sat down.
"You're looking for a good Tom Riddle?" he asked. His face scrunched up with some sort of irritation. "How do you define good?"
"Someone who isn't Voldemort, and therefore does not seek to take over the world," Francis replied immediately.
Portrait-Francis nodded his head. "I see. I'd like to say you should go to Dinsmore and speak to Pandora, but," he shrugged his shoulders with a regretful expression, "she's dead. Still and all, if you are looking for Dumbledore, you might find him there. He visits Dinsmore now and then on Summer Vacation. You'll not be finding anyone for help here."
"Ah." Francis rolled up the parchment and stuck it into his pocket. "I shall make a portkey and tune it into Dinsmore. By the way, why are you here at Hogwarts instead of Dinsmore?"
"It was Pandora's wishes in her will." Portrait-Francis fiddled with his rubber bands. "She said that I would probably rot away into cobwebs and dust at Dinsmore, that I would be of greater use here. Now I cover the entrance to the library and make sure mischievous ruffians do not sneak into it late at night with the intent of getting into the Restricted Section."
"Does it work?"
"Hmm?" Portrait-Francis looked up from his rubber bands. "Sorry. It's just that I've been working on this thing for many years now, and I can't seem to make it work. Ah well." He carefully placed it to the side and stood up. "I can manage to block the ruffians when I can." He smiled nervously at Francis.
"What do you mean?" Francis asked.
"Since you're me, you know about the trouble with the Bloody Baron."
Francis crossed his arms expectedly before himself. "Good old Uncle Hector," he said miserably.
"Too true, old chap. I don't think Pandora considered that when she willed me to Hogwarts. It takes little effort from the Slytherin students to talk him into, well, paying me a visit. While I try to hide from the Bloody Baron, the students sneak into the library. It's been an interesting twenty years, it has." Portrait-Francis smiled sheepishly.
"Now we know how Cousin Quigley felt," Francis said.
Portrait-Francis looked confused. "Cousin who?"
"Cousin Quigley. Quaffing Quigley. The dismal little Snape who was placed in Hufflepuff, and drinks all the time."
Portrait-Francis shook his head. "No, I don't recognize the person." He looked fascinated. "There was a Snape in Hufflepuff? When did this happen?"
"Oh." Francis carefully backed away from his portrait. "Well, thank you. I imagine I may or may not see you in a later time." He started to walk swiftly down the hall. "Come along, boys." When he did not hear any response, Francis stopped and turned around. He sighed and walked back to the wall Harry, Harry2, and Draco had fallen asleep again. Francis bent over and shook Harry awake. "Come on," he said as he reached out and did the same to Draco.
"BACK!" Draco was instantly on his feet. He heaved Francis away and unsheathed his sword before he realized what just happened. "Oh. Sorry about that. Reflexes and all," he said in explanation at the wary way Francis eyed him from where he sprawled across the floor. Harry2 helped Francis to his feet. Draco yawned. "I was sort of worried about how peaceful I slept, since it's dangerous to be so vulnerable. I guess I fell back into my old mind set."
Francis straightened his rumpled robes. "Come along," he said as tucked Pandora's Box beneath his arm and hurried away once more. "Now, if that was the library . . ." Francis looked around as they reached an intersection of halls. He pointed down one direction. " . . . Then that would be the entrance." Francis followed a path only he knew. The others hurried closely behind. Francis dug out the paper that listed all the odd things about Cousin Quigley. He scribbled on it with one of Marcia's charcoaled brownies as he hurried along. "Cousin Quigley not known to exist in certain universes," he said. "Which is odd because everyone else did. Remember how I said that everyone exists, even with different blood lines?"
"Cousin Quigley is very distinct," Severus said from the far back of the line. "It's difficult not to recognize his description."
"And," added Francis as he tucked his paper and brownie into his pocket, "the peacefulness of this place is entirely out of odds with all the other realities."
Harry peered over Francis' shoulder as their pace slowed. Francis reached out to open the small door that blocked their way. A wave of summer heat hit them, and Francis exited through the door. Harry was assaulted with several bright shades of green beneath a sweltering sun, hung aloft in a bright blue sky.
Draco took a deep breath as he stepped outdoors. "I haven't seen such a lovely day since . . ." He paused to think. "Actually, I don't think I have seen such a lovely day before." He smiled jubilantly at the two Harrys who, their eyes shielded against the bright sunlight, both scuttled away from him as quick as they possibly could. Draco's smile turned into sad puzzlement. "Was it something I said?" he asked.
A ghostly hand passed through his shoulder momentarily before Severus Snape yanked him backwards. "I believe it is time to speak," Severus said slowly, as if he was trying to speak to a student without inadvertently frightening the child out of what wits remained. Severus pulled Draco into a corner of Hogwarts as Harry, Harry2, and Francis circled around the lake and wandered over the green fields that surrounded the old castle.
"Now?" Draco looked around. He pointed at their swiftly-receding companions. "But what about-"
"We'll catch up to them." Severus sighed and folded his hands behind himself. His awkward gentleness was an unfamiliar sight to most people, but the harsh bluntness and extreme malice that Severus had exuded when he was alive had worn off slowly after he died. He could still summon such a cloak at any given time, but it was a reluctant cloak the others were slowly realizing he hid behind.
But to a Slytherin - one of Severus' own - especially Draco, whom Severus had always shown a soft spot for because of some interior or ulterior motive, such awkward gentleness was not strange. It was merely something that occurred when Severus went against his normal snarky behavior.
"Draco," said Severus slowly, "I know well enough why you like Harry-"
"Professor, I love him."
Severus scowled menacingly at Draco, who winced. "It's rude to interrupt your elders. Now, I know well enough why, but Harry does not share the same feelings as you."
Draco wilted and looked miserable. "I know."
Severus threw his arms wide. "Then why you push yourself on to him?"
"Hmmm?" Draco's eyes gazed across the distance at the subject of their discussion. He shifted the Mirror of Rebounds from one arm to the other.
"Your Harry must have l-l-l--" Severus gritted his teeth and forced himself to verbally acknowledge what he generally tried to avoid, "l-loved you, but for what reason is not something Harry and Harry can possibly perceive. You and your Harry grew used to one another, saw things together, were companions in both pain and joy. Harry and Harry do not share those experiences with you, so they have nothing to build affection off of. I really think you should find another way to express your feelings towards them."
Draco turned back to Severus. "Are you saying, "he began, "that I need to court Harry or Harry - I haven't quite made up my mind which one I like the most, though Ma'am Runes may help with the final decision - in a more subtle, seductive manner?"
Truthfully, that was not quite what Severus had in mind. However, as Draco appeared to lack the discreetness other Slytherins were raised into during their seven years at Hogwarts, Severus supposed it was the furthest he was going to get with the annoying boy. He wondered, briefly, what had happened to himself in the few months that he had been dead to have deteriorated his ability to intimidate common sense into nitwits.
Voldemort was not kidding when he told Severus that death changed people in unimaginable ways.
At Severus' slight nod, Draco nodded his head too. "Are we done with this little man-to-ghost discussion?" he asked.
Severus had a lot more he wanted to speak to Draco about--mostly about censoring certain metaphors Draco used, how certain things should be kept in the bedroom and only the bedroom and preferably when said bedroom was not being shared with all five of the reality jumpers--but he nodded again anyway.
Draco eagerly hurried after Harry and Harry2 where they were circling the lake. With a pained sigh, Severus floated after Francis. Of all the reality jumpers, Francis was the only one who continued to retain any sense and dignity.
Most of the time, Severus silently amended as Francis tripped over his feet and gracelessly flopped face-first into the lake with Pandora's Box.
"No one is around," Francis said from where he dried his robes with a warming charm. "We won't learn anything from emptiness, so I propose we make way for Diagon Alley and listen to the gossip there."
"Aren't we supposed to go to Dinsmore?" Draco asked.
"I'd prefer to go to Diagon Alley first and listen to the gossip."
"It's a long hike," Draco pointed out. "Unless anyone wants to roam Hogwarts in search of Floo powder to borrow."
Francis shook his head. "No. We can make a portkey. It takes less energy to make it for a shorter distance, than it would making it for a longer distance. We can Floo the rest of the way to Dinsmore." He riffled through his pockets until he came up with a cracked peppermint. "This will do," he said. He moved off to a moss-covered rock. He set the peppermint on top of the rock, scratched his head thoughtfully with the tip of his wand, and then plopped down on the ground beside the peppermint. He began to wrap spells and charms for transport, safety from high velocity and speeds, and various other layers of protection and traveling magics around the peppermint.
Having only once seen a portkey created (by Dumbledore and McGonagall for Madam Pomfrey to transfer Francis to the infirmary when Harry pulled him through the Mirror of Rebounds), Harry watched Francis with fascination. Harry2 watched as well, though more with scientific observation than fascination. Severus was thoughtfully quiet. Harry wanted to ask him what he had spoken about with Draco, but the sour expression Severus wore and the sly expression plastered on Draco's discouraged that attempt before it was even made.
Harry decided just to be content with watching Francis create the portkey. He and Harry2 sat side-by-side in the tall green grass. Francis was oblivious to his surroundings. His actions were slightly more precise and slightly more quicker than Dumbledore's had been as he wrapped the spells around the peppermint.
Severus floated over to where Harry and Harry2 were seated, and floated closely beside Harry. He propped his elbows on his knees and watched Francis with a bored look on his face. Draco looked at Severus before he sat down at Harry2's side.
Harry leaned close to Severus. "How brilliant is Francis compared to Tom Riddle?" Harry whispered.
"Hmm?" One ghostly eyebrow twitched as Severus looked at him, annoyed as all out.
"Because if Francis is a genius and is so smart, then why is Tom Riddle considered to have been the most intelligent student for Hogwarts to have ever produced. I've been thinking-"
"Impossible." Something of dark humor flashed briefly in Severus' eyes. "I told you once before that you're a Gryffindor."
Harry gritted his teeth. "What about Francis?"
Severus shrugged. "He's brilliant. The problem with Francis is that he doesn't always see the big picture." He sighed. "Both Francis and Voldemort are like Muggle scientists who awake one morning with a theory of how to cure the common cold. They shower and dress for the day, still thinking intensely upon this theory. As one, they would sit down at the kitchen table to eat breakfast and suddenly, they see the truth of their theory and realize what the cure for the common cold was. These scientists jump to their feet and storm outside to announce their discovery to the whole world. Now, upon seeing this happen, we realize what the difference between Francis and Voldemort is."
"What's that?"
"Francis, while thinking intensely upon his theory, put his shirt on backwards, forgot his trousers, his shoes are on the wrong feet, and was saved from chewing on his socks for breakfast by seeing the truth in his theory."
Harry tried to imagine a trouser-less Francis with his shirt on backwards and his feet bare as he chewed on a pair of clean socks.
The subject of their conversation paused momentarily in wrapping a charm around the peppermint. Francis watched a fly buzz annoyingly around the peppermint. It landed on the rock beside it. Francis whacked it with his wand, where the charm he had been wrapping around the peppermint lingered. It sparked and a small bolt of electricity ran up the wand's length to fry Francis' fingers.
"Yah!" Francis dropped his wand and stuck his fingers in his mouth. He frowned thoughtfully at the fly he missed as it took flight and buzzed around his head.
Harry, not at all surprised or amazed, found he could imagine Francis just as Severus described him.
Francis finished creating the portkey without a further incident. With that completed, he wrapped the activation spell on it. "Are we ready to go to Diagon Alley?" he asked. The others stared blankly at him. He sighed. "Do we all need another pep talk?" he asked.
They all stared blankly at him. "Come along, then." Francis' hand hovered over the peppermint. His other hand waved at the others. "Take it and we can go."
Harry, careful not to brush against Pandora's Box, which Francis held securely tucked under one arm, tightly grabbed the material of Francis' robes. Harry2 looped one arm around Harry's waist and grabbed Draco's free hand. Francis grabbed the peppermint. There were sharp tugs all around, and everyone faded into the distance.
"He's around here." Marcia timidly peeked around one of the dungeon hall corners. She glanced around in search of her tall, dark target. "I think he might be going over some papers," she said to the feathery little figure perched on her shoulder.
Sirius looked around eagerly. His wings quivered with excitement. Marcia gently scooped him off her shoulder and set him down on a ledge in the wall. "Stay here; I'm going to go looking for him. He'll get mad at seeing me and will probably toss another curse at me." She shrugged and grinned. "I am impervious!" she declared as she slunk away. Sirius watched her disappear through a door. His wings fluttered momentarily as he appeared to be in profound thought.
He shook himself free and leapt off the ledge into the air. His wings bucked in the air, but he righted himself, and flapped drunkenly down the hall. He swooped, bobbed, and fluttered ungracefully in the air. But for his lack of grace, Sirius thought his mother flight was not at all that bad.
He dipped down close to the floor as he came across a door where he could see candlelight under the door. Sirius tried to land by pulling his wings back and increasing resistance to slow his speed. He lost his momentum and balance, flipped head over heels, and crashed headfirst on the floor.
Sirius rubbed his head for a moment as he clambered to his feet and ducked beneath the door and into the room. At either side of the door was a gigantic bookcase crammed with books, parchments, bottles, and various misshapen trinkets. Directly across from the door, bathed in the light of several torches in brackets on the wall above, was a crooked desk covered with papers. One dark figure hunched over the papers.
Sirius craned his neck and squinted at the figure. His wings flapped mightily and he lifted himself into the air. His drunken flight took him close to the dark figure. "Hahahaha!" he laughed eagerly to himself when he recognized the greasy hair and hooked nose. He fluttered close to the figure, and was going to try and land as gracefully as he could on the inkwell when a gigantic monster flew through the air and smashed him into the surface of the desk.
"Flies keep getting bigger every year," Severus Snape muttered to himself as he lifted up the flyswatter and studied at the mess of splayed limbs and ragged-looking feathers. He eyed the creature before he gingerly swept it off his desk into the near-by garbage can. "And uglier." He made a special note to empty the garbage as soon as possible as he transfigured the fly swatter back into his quill.
Diagon Alley was a bustling avenue of wizards that streamed through the crammed allies, in and out of shops, in search of only they knew what. No one noticed the lean man with rumpled blonde hair, glasses and goggles, wearing canary-yellow robes emerge from an a loud crash came from it.
"We weren't that all too far off," Francis said helpfully to his companions as they emerged, bruised and sore, from the alley behind him.
"Next time," Severus said as he appeared behind Francis, "I get to aim the portkey."
"Let's not travel by portkey," Harry said. He stared glumly at the cracked lenses of his glasses. Without saying a word, Francis stuck his wand into Harry's face and muttered a charm. The crack sealed smoothly and Harry once more hand non-broken glasses. Harry adjusted his glasses as Francis absently scratched the side of his head with his wand.
"We need to go to the Leaky Cauldron," he said. "We can overhear all sorts of gossip then." Francis, Pandora's Box still securely tucked under his arm, started off with another duck-leading walk. The others fell into step behind him, with Harry trailing behind last. Harry studied his surroundings with no small amount of amazement. There was a mood that seemed to overlay the atmosphere. There was nothing dismal about this mood, or depressing, or sad. This mood was bright, cheery, and far more optimistic than Harry ever noticed before.
Harry followed slower behind the others as he paused now and then to study eager faces of bright-eyed children. Adults ran up and down the street with a breathy exuberance. Shopkeepers jubilantly greeted people from their shops. Children dashed everywhere, underfoot to all, but few yelled at them out of stressed malice and aggression.
Harry watched all of this was a growing amount of amazement. He saw two little girls bicker over what sort of candy they were going to buy with the sickles their mother had given them. He did not know how long he stood there watching them. With a flash of envy, he realized that these little girls did not know what it was like to live in envy and despair, knowing full well of the monster that dwelled in the dark.
"Harry."
And the sound of Severus' voice, Harry twisted his head to look at Severus. He looked back at the two little girls. "I'm jealous," he said finally.
"We are," Severus agreed amiably. "It is the way of us for those we can see do not bear scars as we do. But we have to bear them, so they don't."
Harry shrugged. "I guess."
"Come." Severus turned about and floated off to the direction Francis and the others had gone. Harry followed him. People gave them odd looks, but mostly because Severus was obviously a ghost. A few older persons, as if they recognized how fierce Severus was or how battle-worn Harry felt in that moment, stepped out of their way. Harry studied his surroundings. There was no one that he recognized. Even some of the places in Diagon Alley was different, like a store that boasted of charmed household items that made life easier for the ordinary house-witch.
"Harry!" Severus appeared in his line of vision. "Are you going to pay attention and follow me, or do I have to carry you?"
Harry shuddered at the thought of Severus' freezing arms carting him off to wherever Francis and the others were. "I'll pay attention," he said. Severus gave him a dark look.
"See that you do," Severus said in a deceptively friendly voice. He turned about and floated away more slowly, with the occasional glance over his shoulder at Harry. Harry, with a pained sigh, stuck close to Severus. Their pace matched easily, and Harry's eyes never left Severus.
"They're in here." Severus gave Harry one last look as he floated through the door of the Leaky Cauldron. Harry reached his hand out to grasp the doorknob. Something flashed through his line of vision - it was a streak of green light, like the flight of an arrow that whipped past his sight. Harry's head snapped around. He looked at the crowd of passersby, a multitude of different people with different clothes, but Harry's eyes spied a trail of bronze-colored clothing. Without knowing why, his eyes traveled upward. The bronze clothing was the cape that a tall, graceful figure had wrapped around his shoulders as he moved with the flow of the crowd.
Harry lunged after it. "Wait!" He hurled himself into the crowd of passersby and pushed his way after the figure. "Wait! Stop!"
Severus appeared halfway through the door. "Harry?"
"Stop! Come back!"
Severus sighed. "Can't turn my back . . ." He muttered unpleasant things beneath his breath as he flew after Harry.
People twisted around to see who yelled. At the sight of Harry barreling his way through the crowd, it hastily parted itself to allow his headlong rush.
"Hey!" The figure Harry chased stopped abruptly. A little girl ran before Harry and he sidestepped to avoid careening into her. He felt his ankle twist, a weakening that his weight settled upon. He threw his weight forward off his twisted ankle and landed on his stomach and chest, his arms thrown forward to blunt some of the fall. His glasses flew off his face and landed somewhere as his lungs collapsed inward and expelled air at the impact. Ouch! Ouch ouch ouch ouch--
"Well," said a silky voice before Harry. Harry gasped desperately for air as he squinted up at the dark green and bronze blur before him. Sun glinted off glass as the blur stretched out before him. Harry grasped forward at the glinting, and felt his hands close over his glasses. He came to his knees as he put on his glasses and looked upward again.
"I-I'm not dreaming," he said hastily to the bemused dark man standing before him.
"Neither am I."
"I Jumped here."
"Did you now?" The dark man smiled gently at Harry. "Are you sure you didn't instead trip?"
Harry looked at his skinned palms. They stung, as did his knees, stomach, and chest. He rubbed them together as he stood up and ignored the dull throb in his ankle. It could hold his weight. "I Jumped here with the aid of the Mirror of Rebounds and Pandora's Box. We're here looking for a good Tom Riddle."
The smile disappeared. Without a word, the dark man grabbed Harry's upper arm and pulled him to the side of the street, out of the way and hearing of others. "Did you find him?" he asked softly as he leaned against one wooden building.
Harry shrugged. "I don't know. If Voldemort doesn't exist in this world, can you tell me if Tom Riddle does?"
The dark man silently contemplated Harry's words. He drew the end of his cape closer to himself as he carefully regarded Harry with all-knowing blue eyes. Harry shivered. "Boy, what are you going to do once you find this good Tom Riddle?"
"Take him back," Harry said truthfully. "He's the only one who can help us."
"Have you considered the possibility that he might not wish to come with you?"
Actually, Harry had not. Nor, for that matter, was he sure if Francis had considered that possibility either. They were slightly too desperate to welcome the idea in the first place, with all that they had done to come so far. "Why not?" Harry asked. "It's all Tom Riddle's fault; the evil Tom Riddle is the one who's destroying my reality. If the realities fall, we're all pretty much doomed. The good Tom Riddle is the only one who can stop it from happening. It's his responsibility, since it's all his fault to begin with."
"Indeed. What of you? What if you destroyed Voldemort?"
Harry sighed. "I'll die."
"So how do you plan on persuading Tom Riddle into coming with you to stop himself from destroying the world? Do you really think he would honestly come along with you if you just up asked him? You are asking him to leave his own life that he made, to chase after something unsure and unlikely."
"I don't know. Maybe tell him everything. I mean, if he's good, then he would know that he has to come with us to stop Voldemort."
The dark man shook his head. "You make it sound all too clear-cut when it is not." He crossed his arms before himself and slumped forward. Even in his slouchy appearance, there was still something immeasurably powerful about the dark man. Harry cocked his head curiously to the side. He thought and studied what the possibilities were. Where had he seen this man before? Had Harry met a counterpart to him in his reality?
"Who are you?" he asked softly.
The dark man smiled again, but it was a bitter smile of mockery. "Ah, but that is an answer you already know," he said softly without looking at Harry, and Harry did. In that moment, he realized that he had known who the dark man was from the very first moment they met. The identity that Harry had always denied himself to acknowledge came from his difficulty to picture Voldemort as he might have been had he chosen different pathways in life. All during Harry's reality-jumping, he had never truly expected to find a good Tom Riddle.
"Would you come with us?" he asked.
Tom Riddle pushed away from the wall. "Why?"
Harry squared his shoulders. "Because Pandora told me that to save the world, I had to find a good Tom Riddle."
"Ah, but did she tell you that you have to take me somewhere?"
Harry gazed steadily at Tom Riddle. "Do you have a better idea?"
"Not at the moment, no."
Harry pointed down the street he ran down. "Do you want to talk to Francis about it? He's the resident genius who can figure things out." He paused as Tom's eyes twinkled mischievously at him. A vision of a trouser-less Francis with his shirt on backwards popped once more into Harry's mind. "Well," Harry amended quickly, "in an absent-minded sort of way."
"That is a kind way to describe him," Tom Riddle said.