A Glimpse without the Boy Who Lived

Another Reality

Harry opened his eyes slowly, finding himself in a cold dark room and lying on a four-poster bed. He presumed himself to be in his dorm until he sat up and saw who was in the beds beside his. A snoring and grunting Crabbe and Goyle lay fast asleep. Harry jumped out of the bed and looked around: this wasn't his dorm; there were no windows. What on earth was he doing in the Slytherin boys' dormitory? He sped over to the door and yanked it open, still in his pyjamas. He walked out into, what was unmistakably the Slytherin common room.

It was big and spacious, unlike Gryffindor common room, and the main light was coming from an open fire. If there hadn't been a thin slit of window situated high along one wall so that it was level with the ground outside, it would have been near impossible to tell if it was day or night. It must have been early in the morning, because very few Slytherins were in the common room. Some realised he was there and gave waves or smirks. What's this? No calls of hatred? No taunting jeers? And most importantly, nobody wondering what in the world he was doing in their common room? There had only been one time before this where Harry had been in this common room and where the Slytherins didn't recognise him for who he really was. He was with Ron at the time and both of them were disguised as Crabbe and Goyle, about to interrogate Malfoy.

Harry proceeded out of the Slytherin common room, realising that it wasn't a portrait that made the door, but a slide-along section of wall. He looked left and right, making sure no Slytherins spotted him coming out, and then headed to the end of the corridor where a single door stood. He reached for the handle. But before he could open the door, he stopped, after hearing the sound of approaching footsteps. He spun round and froze at the sight of Malfoy walking along the corridor fully dressed in his Quidditch robes and carrying his broom, about to go into the common room.

When he spotted Harry he froze also and stared for a while before saying slowly, "What are you doing? Were you about to go into that broom cupboard?"

What was going on? Harry thought incredulously. Isn't he going to ask what I'm even doing down in the Slytherin dungeon in my pyjamas?

Before Harry could ask this, however, Malfoy approached him, swinging an arm around his shoulder and leading him back into the common room.

"Come on, you better get ready. Everyone's wondering where you are?" Malfoy said.

"Is this some kind of joke? What's going on?" Harry demanded, wondering why Malfoy was pushing him back down towards the dorm.

"Eh, hello? Quidditch Practice?" he laughed. "Obviously you weren't listening when Flint said 'Six AM' yesterday..."

"Yesterday? Wait a minute, I'm-"

"I'll see you down on the pitch," Malfoy said. Before Harry could protest further Malfoy left him in the dorm and closed the door.

This had to be some kind of crazy idea of Ron's - But then how would he persuade Malfoy to be in on it? Harry found his trunk lying at the bottom of his bed on the floor, along with a Nimbus Two Thousand and One. He pushed open the lid and found on the top a set of Slytherin school robes. Raking through the clothes underneath he found a set of Slytherin-green Quidditch robes. If this were a joke, then surely Ron and Hermione would be waiting down on the Quidditch pitch ready to shout 'April Fools' or something. So Harry decided to go along with it for now, but made a mental note to remind them how unfunny it was.

Once dressed, Harry snatched up the unfamiliar broom and headed down to the Quidditch pitch. To his horror, he spotted a team of flying green empty stands.

They'll pop out any moment, he told himself as he went through the changing rooms and out onto the pitch, searching the stands for his non-visible friends.

"Hey Potter! Get up here so we can start a warm up!" the voice of Marcus Flint called from up in the air.

Harry mounted the broom and kicked off from the ground, stopping only when he was level with the rest of the players, who were positioned in a circle, apparently about to start passing the Quaffle around. They all stared at him for a while before he shouted, "What!"

"We're waiting on you telling us to do something for a warm-up," said Flint. "You are the Captain."

"I am?" Harry asked in surprise. "Okay, err...just start passing the Quaffle about."

Flint, who was on the other side of the circle opposite him, passed him the Quaffle first. Harry passed it sheepishly to Pansy Parkinson a few spaces along, but then he did a double take. "Since when were you on the Slytherin Quidditch team?" he said, as Malfoy threw the Quaffle to him and he passed it to Nott.

"What?" she said, looking unnerved. "I've been a Beater with Draco since last year. Have you been half asleep since then?"

Harry shook his head irritably, wondering what sort of reality this could be.

"Right, Malfoy and Parkinson: if you could go and release the bludgers. Potter you can go get the snitch," Flint called.

"I don't get it. Why am I the Seeker?" Harry said to Malfoy, as the three of them slowly descended to the ground. "And why are you all treating me as if I'm a Slytherin?"

"Because you are, Harry," Malfoy said with a sigh. Harry pulled a funny face, wondering since when were they on first-name terms. "I know we're not as brainy as those in Ravenclaw, we're definitely brainier than those in Hufflepuff, but come on, it's got to be better than being in Gryffindor."

"No it's not. I am in Gryfindor!" Harry said, feeling really desperate now. "I just woke up this morning in a Slytherin dorm...for some reason."

Pansy Parkinson shrieked with laughter as the three of them touched down on the ground and headed to the crate holding the balls.

"You're really great and everything, Harry, but sometimes you can be really weird, in a funny sort of way!" she giggled, opening the crate.

The Bludgers were released and both of them shot up into the air. On bringing his head down from watching them, Harry spotted two figures on the other side of the pitch moving towards seats in the stands. He peered at them for a moment before realising them to be Ron and Hermione.

Without saying anything he picked up his broom again and took off towards them. He landed at the end of the pitch and climbed the stairs towards their seats, flinging himself down in one next to Ron. They both stared at him.

"Thank goodness' you two are here. I realise now that this is no joke, but the Slytherins are convinced, somehow, that I'm one of them," he said hurriedly and then turning to look at them. He was surprised to see them both looking at him with mild disgust and loathing written all over their faces. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because you are a Slytherin, Potter," Ron said with revulsion.

"What? I'm not, I'm - did you just call me 'Potter'?" he said slowly.

"Well what do you want us to call you?" Hermione said snappily. "How about 'repulsive little worm' for a better name?" And both she and Ron stood up and left the stands.

Harry gaped after them.

What is wrong with everyone today? This is a mad dream, it can't be real, he thought fearfully. He sat in the stands for a while thinking, until Malfoy shouted him over. At that point he made a run for it, out of the pitch, and decided to go and see Hagrid.

* * *

He rapped three times on Hagrid's hut door. When nobody answered he done the same to his window. Finally, he heard movement from inside the cabin, and Hagrid's hair-covered face appeared there at the glass.

When he spotted Harry he frowned curiously and went to unlock the door.

"Wha' do you want, Potter?" Hagrid said gruffly, opening the door only a little, but enough so that Harry could see his disturbed expression.

"Why are you calling me that?" Harry demanded, and moved forwards as if to come in. But Hagrid kept the door as it was. "What's up, can't I come in?"

"Why on earth would you want to come in my house?" Hagrid exclaimed with a hollow laugh.

"I don't know, for Tea?" Harry answered desperately. "Look, something's going on, everyone is acting...weird. I just thought you'd be different. You usually seem keen on helping."

"I don't see how, but..." And Hagrid opened the door with less enthusiasm than Harry hoped.

"Everyone thinks I'm a Slytherin, I woke up in Malfoy's dorm this morning, and now I'm the Slytherin Seeker," he said quickly, taking a seat around Hagrid's massive table.

Hagrid looked at him suspiciously for a moment before saying, "Look, I don' know what yer game here is, Potter, but I thought you made it very clear las' year that we weren' to be on speaking terms?"

"Oh, great. Not you as well?" Harry sighed, raking a hand through his hair with frustration. He caught sight of his reflection in a lop-sided mirror hanging on the wall of the cabin. Getting up from the table he moved closer to it, pulling back the hair from his face so that his brow was visible.

"Where's my scar?" he said to his reflection. "My scar! WHERE'S MY SCAR?" He pointed towards the place on his forehead where it ought to be.

Hagrid stared at him bewildered. "Wha' scar? I didn't even know ye had a scar!" he said. "Look, wha' is it that you want, Potter?"

"Stop calling me that!" Harry said, annoyed now. "My name is Harry, Harry! Why are you acting like you hardly know me?"

"Well, I don't know much," Hagrid replied innocently. "You're a sixth year student from Slytherin and yer in my class every Tuesday and Thursday!"

Harry never said anything to this, but stared out the window with determination not to believe he was going mad.

"I'm not in sixth year, I'm seventeen. I didn't return for seventh year. I'm supposed to be on the run. How did I get in this world, Hagrid?" he whispered.

Although he wasn't really expecting an answer, Hagrid sighed and said, "Well tha' would be the work of your mother and father: the kindest people on earth. Can't believe you would really want to give them up."

"Give them up? They're dead, I couldn't help but give them up-"

"Dead? Lily and James Potter? Absolutely not!" Hagrid said with a laugh.

"You mean...they're alive?" Harry said in amazement, jumping to his feet.

"Well o' course they are! You might o' not talked to them in two years, Potter, but they're always there for you," Hagrid said smiling.

Harry froze, thinking quickly. He had to get out of here; he had to see them. Some how, he had travelled into a world where it was as if his parents had never been murdered. He thought it through quickly. It would, of course, change his relationships with people, although he wasn't sure how he made it into Slytherin and why his relationship with Ron and Hermione was as it is.

But none of that mattered right now.

All that was important was to get out of Hogwarts and see his parents. "Where do they live?" he asked Hagrid, seizing up his broom.

"Where they've always lived, Godric's Hollow - But, Potter, yeh can' go see 'em now. You're in school for goodness' sake!"

Harry looked into Hagrid's face for a second, wondering if he'd believe him if he told him.

"Hagrid I don't really know how and I don't know why, but.... I've managed to put myself in a picture different from the one I came from..." And he patiently told him about Ron and Hermione and how they were best friends, and also the situation about how Voldemort killed his parents when he was a baby and how he had managed to survive with only a scar to show for it.

Hagrid looked at him, trying to take in all the information. "If this is true, Potter - sorry - Harry, if wha' your saying is real, then...aren't you a little curious as to who 'as taken your place as 'The Boy Who Lived?'" Hagrid said carefully. "Aren't you wondering wha's become of You-Know-Who?"

Harry never said anything to this. Instead he looked at Hagrid with anxiety, fearing he would say the worst. "He's...you mean he's still alive then?"

Hagrid gave a rough grunt and said, "More than alive! He's only jus' gone and took over all the Ministry o' Magic!"

"Really? Well, no change there. Where I came from he's got the whole magical world in fright, and I'm supposed to be on the run at the same time as trying to kill him."

Hagrid stayed silent for a moment and looked at Harry carefully before answering, "I still don't understand what this is...that you're doing, Potter, but..."

"Okay, forget that just now, just tell me how this could have happened," Harry said slowly.

"Well, I guess you could say it all started around the time after the Longbottoms' murder, and-"

"Longbottoms! Murdered?"

"Yeah, you was only jus' a baby...you wouldn't remember it. Yep, he took their little son along with them," Hagrid said sadly.

"Neville? Neville's dead?" Harry whispered horrified, now falling to his knees with misery.

"Who's Neville?" Hagrid asked, bewildered. "I don't know what they called him. Lovely people they were, the Longbottoms." And Hagrid finished with a gloomy sigh. He seemed to come back to his senses when he realised Harry was kneeling on the floor crying.

"Wha' you crying for, Potter?"

Harry, picking himself up from the ground and wiping his face, sat himself on one of Hagrid's large chairs. "Nothing...doesn't matter...so what's it been like since?"

"Absolute chaos, it has. I tell you, if Dumbledore were'n here, You-Know-Who would have all the Muggle-borns' necks!"

"Dumbledore's alive?" Harry said with surprise. Of course, it all fits. If Harry wasn't the Boy Who Lived and Neville didn't survive the killing curse, then Dumbledore wouldn't have any motivation to search for Horcruxes.

Hagrid seemed to be getting sick of Harry's amazement on every subject he touched and chose to ignore this reaction.

"It seems, since the Longbottoms, Dumbledore's lost a part of himself. He was a grea' man, Dumbledore - still is mind you. But I think he feels it was partly his fault for You-Know-Who to have such a triumph over the Magical world," Hagrid said thoughtfully.

"But it's not over yet? Dumbledore is still fighting, isn't he? He can't have just given up-?"

"Given up, thrown in the towel, went down with his ship," he said sadly, but as if ending the conversation.

"Well Hagrid we have to do something, we can't just let Voldemort rule!"

"I wish you'd stop saying that ruddy name! It's forbidden. If it wasn't for the security around Hogwarts, we'll have Death Eaters coming in from every corner if you keep at it!"

"Look, whatever! But-"

"It's time for you to go, Potter. Neither you, nor anybody else can do anything about You-Know-Who. Now go and tell your little story to someone who cares!"

And with that, Harry was shunted from the cabin and left to stand on Hagrid's doorstep in complete desolation.