Design for Life

Chapter 6 - Here I Stand Before Me

As soon as they had dropped their bags off in their dormitories, Ron and Hermione headed back towards the hospital to see Harry. When they arrived they were surprised to see him sitting, fully dressed, in a chair facing the window looking over the Quidditch pitch, obviously asleep.

"Oh..." Hermione whispered. "He looks awful. I wonder what he's dreaming about..."

"Hermione... What if we are right? What if there IS another one? What would he be like?"

"He couldn't be very different... they would both be Harry."

"Hermione, listen to me... I've been thinking about this. You know about Harry's life at the Dursleys, yeah? You know how scared he is when he has to go back there and how terrible he looks when he comes back?"

Hermione nodded.

"If we're right then we'd find ourselves face to face with someone who didn't just have to deal with that at the summer, but ALL THE TIME... I'm just worried that that would have affected Harry more than anyone would expect... Sure he'd still be Harry, but you can't make me believe that he'd be OUR Harry."

Hermione looked at Ron and swallowed. "I've never thought of it like that before... Oh god... Do you think we should tell him?"

"He said he wanted to know, whatever we found."

Hermione went over to the sleeping form. "Harry," she said quietly. "Harry."

Harry began to stir.

"Mmm? Oh, hello you two. Any more news? Did you find Dumbledore?"

"We tried but by the time we could try looking for him, Professor Sprout told us he'd gone. I guess to London."

"Well then, we should find out what's been going on soon then, shouldn't we?"

There was a long silence, the three friends sitting together quietly, staring out of the large window across the Forbidden Forest. Ron broke it by saying "Hermione said the best thing to Malfoy, I wish you could have heard it... It was so funny. Something about him having an inferiority complex and her having to let Pansy know..."

Harry smiled. "Well done Hermione..."

"Harry, are you worried?" Hermione asked suddenly.

Harry looked surprised by her question and took a while to answer. "Yes. Yes, I think I am, and I don't quite know why."

Ron started to say something, but was cut off by the door to the hospital swinging open and the figure of their Headmaster entering.

"Ron, Hermione, I'm going to have to ask you to leave for a short while. There is something I need to tell Harry... Which I'm sure you know about following your little piece of detective work last night. Dear me, I really must stop telling you my passwords, shouldn't I, Mr Potter? But if you would be so kind to wait outside the main entrance for me, I will attempt to tell you what I know so you can get your facts straight. It's such a nice day, we might as well take a walk."

Ron and Hermione nodded and said their goodbyes to Harry who was staring up at Dumbledore as if he had just told him he had a terminal disease.

"I'm sure your young friends have explained to you what they think they have found out, but there is someone I think you really must meet. Do you know who?"

Harry went visibly paler. "It's me, isn't it?"

"Ah, I see Ron and Hermione's work paid off. Yes, correct. You. Now, I believe you are feeling slightly stronger today, yes? Well then, come with me and I shall introduce you, as it were."

Harry got to his feet slowly and walked with Dumbledore out of the hospital and up the main staircase.

~~*~~

Harry woke up in the silent dark of the cupboard. It took him several seconds to remember how he got there and then it hit him. He had been going to run away, but someone... Vernon, had caught him. He must have been unconscious for hours, he thought. He had no idea of the exact time, but it was definitely night, and from the lack of noise, he guessed his family had gone to bed. His arm still ached and Harry rubbed it, even more determined to leave than ever, if they ever let him out of the cupboard first though. He pushed the door experimentally. It gave slightly but did not open. He knew he had to be quiet, and not wake the family sleeping upstairs. He changed his bloodstained shirt and packed a load of clothing into his bag by feel alone and then turned his attention to the cupboard door. Positioning his eye against the slight gap between the door and the doorframe he looked up until he saw the strip of metal between the two where the bolt holding the door shut ran. He frantically cast around the cupboard in the dark, trying to find something that might help him to push the bolt back across, but found nothing. After several minutes, at the point of giving up, he rested his head against the door, and placed his hand over the place where the bolt was, hoping for a miracle.

He heard a click, and almost fell over as the cupboard door swung open revealing a darkened hallway. Harry could hardly believe his eyes, but didn't waste time in grabbing his bag and running into the living room to grab Aunt Petunia's handbag. He felt a twinge of guilt as he pulled out her purse and took all the cash in it, but it quickly passed. Petunia and Vernon had done little enough for him in the past fifteen years and the least they could do was give him £37.

Without a single glance behind him, Harry walked out of the Dursleys house, shut the front door and set off down Privet Drive for the final time.

~~*~~

They came to a stop outside a deserted classroom.

"He's waiting for you, Harry. Talk to him. I'll come back to fetch you both in a while. Stay here."

Harry nodded, he felt like he was going to be sick. Dumbledore walked away towards the entrance hall and Harry stood for a while outside the room, trying to compose himself, and then pushed the door open.

Someone was standing, facing the window with his back to Harry. In the fading light, Harry could see one long strip of dark hair falling down his back, starkly contrasted by the shaved sides of his head. He appeared to be wearing the familiar black robes of the Hogwarts uniform.

The other boy spoke first.

"Is that who I think it is?" he asked in a voice that was slightly harsher but still unmistakably Harry's own.

"I guess I am..."

The figure at the window turned to face him and Harry felt his grip on the door handle tighten with anticipation.

They stared at each other across the empty classroom and Harry felt the strength that he had lost return to him in a burst as their eyes met. He looked directly at the other boy... It was almost like looking in a mirror. He was looking at himself, but not quite. This him had much longer hair, cut into a mohican style, he was a lot thinner and his glasses were different and a lot more worn and broken. He looked like Harry sometimes did after a particularly nasty Quidditch game, with a black eye just starting to diminish and several bruises and not-quite-healed cuts. Harry noticed without much surprise that he had his nose pierced, just like in his dream, a thin silver hoop through his left nostril. His eyes flicked almost unconsciously upwards to rest on a pale scar which stood out on the boy's forehead. A scar shaped like a bolt of lightning identical to his own and in that moment Harry finally believed.

"Jesus H. Christ" muttered the boy at the window. He stumbled and his arm swung out to catch hold of the back of a nearby chair. He sat down with a heavy thump on the wide windowsill, his eyes never leaving Harry's own.

"This is bloody strange... Well, first things first..." he stuck out a hand for Harry to shake. "Hi. I'm Wizard. You must be Harry Potter."

Harry crossed the classroom slowly, and reached out tentatively to grasp Wizard's outstretched hand. The effect was like electricity running between them. A bright white light blazed in Harry's mind, blurring his vision. He gasped for air and wrenched his hand away from Wizard. The moment the connection was lost everything returned to normal. Harry looked down at his hand, not knowing what to expect, but it was completely unmarked.

"I guess you felt that too..." said the other boy.

"You could say that..."

"Cat got your tongue too then? Hard to know what to say, isn't it?"

Harry smiled. "It's not something I ever really planned for, no... I heard you met Sirius..."

"You heard right. Turned into a giant bloody dog in front of me, thought I was losing it. He ever done that to you?"

"Once or twice, yeah... Did he... Did he say anything about me?"

"Not much, he said I should ask you myself... Can I ask you, have you been having strange... memories?"

Harry looked relieved. "Yes. I guess they're yours..."

Wizard relaxed slightly. "That's good... I think I prefer yours somehow..."

They lapsed into silence again, unsure of what to say. Eventually Harry spoke. "Has anyone mentioned how this happened?"

"Sirius and the old guy... Dumbledore said something, but I was far too freaked to pay much attention. Something about magic and parallel universes, I'm sure we'll find out sooner or later."

"How did Sirius find you?"

Wizard looked uncomfortable. "We were both down in London, I got into a bit of an... accident and he came looking for me."

Harry didn't say anything, but carefully removed Wizard's glasses, pulled out his wand and tapped them once. "Reparo" he whispered softly and handed them back.

Wizard stared at the mended glasses in his hands. "Do you know, I somehow knew how to do that... The spell, I mean... From your memory." He put the glasses back on and blinked at Harry. "This is all too strange."

"You're telling me..."

"Won't people be a bit... well... worried seems like too light a term here, but hey... Won't they be worried to see two of us?"

"I guess, but there's not much they can do about it... Anyway, I think everyone's used to strange things happening here... I know Ron and Hermione want to meet you."

"Who?... Oh yes, your friends... I remember, or rather you remember and I just happen to know... Argghh!"

They sat for a little while together until someone knocked quietly at the door.

"That'll be Dumbledore... Come in!" called Harry.

The door swung open Dumbledore stood there, with Ron and Hermione peering anxiously round him.

"Harry, they insisted on seeing you, and I came to see if you were ready for some company."

"That's Ok, Professor. We're ready..." he said with a glance at Wizard.

"Very well. I shall return to collect you for Dinner."

Dumbledore departed leaving Ron and Hermione standing on the threshold of the classroom. Harry ran forward to them.

Wizard sighed and twisted round on the windowsill, filling it lengthways, and looked back out of the window, across the strange landscape. He could hear the three raised voices speaking quickly as only friends of long acquaintance can do. A wave of depression engulfed him as Harry and the two others moved across the classroom towards him.

"Are you Ok?" It was Harry's voice. Wizard looked up at him and the two others, who were both looking at him strangely. He didn't blame them.

"Yeah... Fine... Hi." He waved at Ron and Hermione who smiled weakly at him.

"Bloody hell, you ARE Harry, aren't you?" Ron said.

"Well spotted," Wizard shot back dryly.

"Bloody hell..." said Ron again.

Wizard looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Hey!" said Harry. "I can't do that..."

Wizard looked at him now and said quietly "Well, I needed something to do to pass fifteen years in a pitch black cupboard. I learnt."

Their eyes met, Harry looked pained, but Wizard had learnt to conceal his feelings better and remained totally unreadable. Harry swallowed. "I know... I'm sorry..."

"What the hell are you sorry for? You escaped, I didn't. There's nothing either of us can do about it."

"I'm still sorry. I remember what it was like living there... I don't know how you could live though it."

"I very nearly didn't... Dudley turned into a bigger bully at Smeltings and after Vernon lost his job he had to take it out on somebody," Wizard muttered, remembering when Dudley had pushed him downstairs, apparently for breathing. He had certainly tried to stop him for good. He lost consciousness and had broken his leg that day, and after he had been taken to hospital to make sure they wouldn't have to explain why he was dead or anything, Vernon had enjoyed tormenting him by kicking him for weeks after. He heard Hermione gasp... this was obviously news to her. He remembered how different he must look compared with their Harry. All those little scars he had carried around since he was eleven had mounted up, giving him a very much different look. He smiled hesitantly at the three friends standing in front of him, and Hermione cried out.

"Oh! Your tooth!"

"Pardon?"

"Your tooth. You're missing a tooth. Harry... that's the one that you lost..."

Harry looked at him. "Yes... he said thoughtfully. "It is..." he winced and his head dropped so he was looking at the floor, deep in thought. "You lost it in a fight, didn't you? Three men... you were under an archway, on the floor... I can see your memories... no, see is wrong. I can FEEL your memories..." Harry's head snapped back up to stare Wizard in the eyes again. "You didn't even try to fight back, did you? You just let them do it..." He didn't sound angry, just sad.

Wizard slipped off the windowsill and stood in front of them, three pairs of eyes fixed on him. He idly noticed that Harry seemed to be slightly taller than he was. He looked at Harry.

"Sometimes that's all you can do..."

"Surely you could have tried...?"

Wizard felt something welling up inside him and he turned away from Harry so that he couldn't see his face. How could he explain to this perfect boy, he wouldn't understand what he had learnt.

After a few seconds, Wizard whispered "Harry, I learnt long ago that fighting causes more pain than taking the beating. If you let them hit you then they leave you alone quicker, if you fight, so do they."

Nobody said anything and he wondered if the great unbeatable trio he knew his companions to be were feeling disgusted by the weak creature he was, but the feeling in his chest was growing stronger and stronger. It felt like a great weight was pressing down on his chest, restricting his breathing. He pulled in a great, ragged, gasping breath and sunk to his knees, lacking the energy to stand any longer. He heard voices calling as if from a long way away and thought he could feel someone's hand on his arm, but everything was growing blacker and blacker until the voices cut out all together and he fell to the floor.

~~*~~

Wizard dreamed.

He dreamed of a birthday full of owls, a giant and a train. He dreamed of mirrors and flying, of snakes and giant chess games, he dreamed of werewolves and rats and mermaids. Like a slowly unwinding spool of thread, he dreamed of Harry, of a life that should have been his. The friendships he should have made, the games he should have played and the dangers he should have faced. But always, looming like a shadow of something insurmountable, he dreamed of a towering robe clad figure with glowing red eyes.

~~*~~

The large brown owl landed on the windowsill and tapped its beak against the glass. The occupant of the house, hunched over a small paper strewn desk looked up. Noticing the owl he made his way to the window to let it in. The owl hooted as he stroked its round head and removed the note from round its leg. The owl fluttered off as soon as its duty was complete, back to its master. The man unrolled the note. The handwriting was instantly recognisable.

He is on the move. Find him. Come here, we have unfinished business.

That was it. No salutations, not that he expected them, and no signature. He reread the note twice; making sure there was no hidden meaning. He knew what the message meant though, and knew what he must do. Without time to finish the mug of coffee on the desk, he grabbed up his travelling cloak and broomstick and left.