When the Light Goes Out

When the Light Goes Out Chapter 03

Dumbledore didn't speak for a while. Harry sighed.

'Is there something troubling you, Harry?'

Harry stared at Dumbledore in disbelief. 'Well, let me see. I'm in a parallel world where everyone thinks I'm evil, I'm away from my friends, it's disturbing how easily I can become evil, and no one has any idea how I can get back home. Yes, there is definitely something wrong.'

Dumbledore recoiled slightly, and neither of them spoke, until Harry said quietly, 'Oh, I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to be like that.'

'No, Harry, it is I who should be apologising. I was insensitive. I am sorry.'

Harry looked away, out of the window, into the slowly setting sun.

'If it makes you feel any better, Harry, I do not believe that you are evil. We will find a way for you to get back to your friends, and as for your other self going bad, we all have a bit of both inside of us. As Sirius said, "It is the part that we choose to act on that is important." He is a wise man.'

Harry turned to Dumbledore in shock. 'Is?' he said incredulously. 'He "is" a wise man? H-he's not...dead here?'

Dumbledore's expression softened. 'No, he is alive here, Harry. I am sorry, for you. You seem to have lost most of your family.'

'All of my family,' Harry muttered. 'I don't count the Dursleys as "family".'

Just then, the office door opened, and Snape walked in, followed by Ron and Hermione.

Ron froze when he saw Harry. 'What the bloody hell,' he said coldly, 'do you think you're doing here?'

'Trying to get home, actually,' Harry replied, with equal coldness.

'What? You mean back to You-Know-Who? I mean, I don't even know why I'm talking to you--'

'Mr Weasley,' Dumbledore interrupted firmly, 'this is not our Harry.'

'What do you mean, sir?' Hermione whispered, her eyes the size of saucers.

'This person, who stands before you, is a Harry Potter from a different universe. A parallel world, if you like.'

Ron still had his mouth open, from when Dumbledore had interrupted him, mid-rant. 'S-so,' he looked at Harry apologetically, 'y-you're n-not evil?'

Harry looked at him blankly. 'Of course I'm not. Voldemort killed my parents. Why would I join him?'

Ron seemed taken aback, and for good reason.

'I just want to get back, to my versions of everybody, and--' but Harry's words were cut off, because Hermione had launched herself at him. 'Oh, Harry!' she said in a wobbly voice. 'I knew that you couldn't be bad! I'm--we're--so sorry for treating you like that--before, I mean. We just thought that you were your other s-self. Our H-Harry.' She started to sob. Harry awkwardly patted her on the back, and then sighed, returning the hug.

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'No,' Hermione said suddenly. She had stopped crying, but her face was still glazed with tears. 'Harry would come back. I know he would. He will.'

She blew her nose again, and Dumbledore cleared his throat. 'Well, I shall have the school and grounds searched anyway.' Dumbledore left.

'You two should get back to the tower,' McGonagall said with a croaky voice. 'It's getting late. We cannot do anything for Harry now.'

She also left, leaving Ron and Hermione standing silently in the bathroom.

'Come on, Herm, let's go.' Ron stood up.

'You go, Ron, I'll catch you up in a bit.'

'No, come on--'

'Ron, someone needs to clean this mess up, and I need to think, on my own,' she added as Ron made to pick up a shard of cauldron. 'Please?'

Ron sighed. 'Okay, but don't be too long. I'll wait up.' He opened the door, and left, the door creaking shut behind him.

Hermione's shoulders fell and she dried her face on her robes. What have I done?

She looked at the devastation before her, and took out her wand, but stopped, staring at the thin piece of wood. No, she thought, this has already caused enough trouble. She threw her wand aside, and it clattered loudly to the floor.

Moaning Myrtle's face suddenly came through one of the cubicles, for the first time that day. 'Ooh, someone's in a tantrum!'

'Shut UP, Myrtle!' Hermione restrained herself from shouting something snide as Myrtle poked her transparent tongue out and dived back into the toilet.

Instead, she bit her lip, and crossed over to one of the sinks. She looked in the cupboard.

There was a small scrubbing brush, a bottle of potion, but its label was too worn to read, a grimy cloth, and, somehow, a long mop and brush.

Hermione sighed, and took out the two brushes, the mop and the cloth. She daren't touch the potion, not knowing what was inside. She could, of course, use a spell to restore the label, but the idea repulsed her.

She found a working tap, and rinsed the cloth wearily. Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her robes, knelt down on hands and knees, and began mopping up potion and putting the broken cauldron pieces in a pile.

~ • ~

It was early in the morning when Hermione finished. She was standing back, admiring her work, when Ron came through the door. 'Hermione, how long does it take to--'

His mouth dropped open as he looked past Hermione, and into the bathroom.

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Harry and Hermione broke apart as Professor Snape said icily, 'Yes, how touching. But that does not solve the problem. I think, Headmaster, that I should check my books for a section on backfiring potions., if you would excuse me.' He swept from the office, and Harry and Hermione looked away from each other awkwardly.

'So,' Harry cleared his throat, 'can someone please tell me about the...other...me?'

Ron frowned in anger and Hermione looked at the floor, subdued. After an uncomfortable silence, Dumbledore spoke, 'Well, Harry, what do you want to know about him?'

'Everything,' Harry replied calmly.

'Well, I would imagine that he is much the same as yourself. Or he was. Three months ago, Voldemort turned up in Hogsmeade, when Harry was on a school trip there.'

'We had gone to get some take-out butterbeers,' continued Ron, glaring out of the window. 'We left Harry outside in the snow, he said he would wait for us, probably for about five minutes, and when we came out, he'd gone.'

'We looked everywhere for him,' Hermione sobbed, 'and we finally found him, alone, sitting on a rock, with the Shrieking Shack in the distance. He was incredibly pale, and I can still remember his face. I've never seen such a blank expression on his face. And his eyes...oh...'

'They were red,' Dumbledore finished gently.

Harry's mouth opened slightly as he tried to contain a gasp of shock. 'What? How is that possible?'

Dumbledore took a while to answer. 'Sometimes, if someone is exposed to a great force of evil, or good, I suppose, a lot more than their personality and sense of right and wrong change. Take Voldemort for example, his eyes are red, and snake-like. They reflect his personality. It is possible that Voldemort made Harry more like him.'

There was a horrified silence. This was obviously the first time Ron and Hermione had heard this.

Ron turned a sickly shade of green, and Hermione turned a deathly white, looking as if she was about to faint.

Harry, on the other hand, simply slid down the wall.

'Harry?' Dumbledore sat up slightly. 'Are you alright?'

Harry nodded slowly.

'I-I just...never knew I had it in me. I mean, it's always worried me, that I could turn evil, but, I just didn't...it just doesn't seem real.'

Suddenly, there was an enormous crashing sound.

It was shortly followed by the noise of an explosion, and the castle floor shook. The portraits on Dumbledore's wall looked around in shock, now wide awake. The little, metal instruments wobbled, making tiny tinkling noises.

Dumbledore jumped to his feet, and Harry, Ron and Hermione followed suit.

Dumbledore turned to the shocked teenagers. 'Stay here.'

He left the office, leaving the trio staring after him.

The floor shook again.

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