The Abuse in a Violently Different Dimension
By Juu & Jekyll
4. With you
I woke up in a dream today
To the cold of the static and put my cold feet on the floor
Forgot all about yesterday
Remembering I'm pretending to be where I'm not anymore
The morning came too fast.
The sun fell straight onto Harry's face and the Gryffindor threw drowsy an arm over his eyes, trying in vain to hang onto the last wisps of his peaceful sleep. He failed miserably though, as the morning demanded to be acknowledged.
He pushed the covers off his body and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Then he tried for a moment to sit up, but let himself fall exhausted backwards onto the mattress again when his legs failed to support him.
Despite having slept in a bed that was way softer than his one at the Dursley's, he still felt exhausted and sleepy. As if he was drained of all his energy. Add to that a firm headache pouncing away in deep in his skull which made it clear he wouldn't be able to fall asleep again.
Gradually the pain seemed to infect his whole body and within moments everything was aching.
Harry cursed the sun for waking him up.
After a long while of lying on the bed with an arm over his eyes, he tried to sit up again. Miraculously he succeeded. He squinted at the night stand for his glasses, but they didn't appear to be there. He quickly swept with a hand over it just in case, but he couldn't feel it either.
With a deep groan he leaned over the other side of the bed where his clothes had fallen in a heap onto the floor. He fumbled through them, found his wand and mentally cursed himself for not keeping his wand under the pillow. What if he needed it at night? Or in an emergency?
Harry sat back up again and summoned his glasses. Moments later he was hit against the head by his glasses and he swiftly plucked them out of the air before they could fall to the ground. He put them on and blinked startled a she took in his surroundings.
"Why the hell is everything purple?"
A quickly glance around the room proved that he definitely wasn't in the Gryffindor dorms. Before he could wonder why he wasn't there, his memory finally caught up with him.
The memory of Dumbledore's betrayal. The statue. The happenings in the Forbidden Forest. Snape. The Death Eater. His own fierce outburst in the corridor. The paintings absolute denial of him being a Gryffindor. Ending up sleeping in the Room of Requirement...
Harry rubbed his brow as he pondered over these things. Since yesterday, everything had been more abnormal then he was used to. And that was saying a lot, as he had been in quite some odd situations before.
He figured there were three things he needed to find out.
One being why some things seemed to be slightly different than he knew them to be. Why were the paintings different? Why did the castle in its whole just feel a bit… unfamiliar? Why did that professor-who he never had met before-and the paintings think he was a Hufflepuff?
Two was about how to control his new-found power? If he didn't learn how to control it, he might even end up destroying Hogwarts. The statue had called him an elemental and said he should return her. Perhaps she could help him?
And finally number three; what should he do about Dumbledore?
A loud grumble interrupted him from working himself up into a hissy fit again and he chuckled softly to himself.
"Okay," he said as he leaned over to grab his clothes. "I'll go eat something first, ignore Albus and Snape the best I can and be pissed off at them later, skip classes and go talk to the statue and after that… I will see further."
With that decided he stepped out of bed and put his old clothes on. He noticed that the soreness all over his body had largely disappeared. The only thing that still bothered him was his headache, but he would use the same tactic on it which he used for Dumbledore.
Try to ignore it.
Moments later, Harry was heading down the many moving stairs towards the Great Hall. Though the corridors were familiar in lay-out, most of the paintings appeared to have been switched.
He was relatively close to the Great Hall when someone came barreling towards him. A closer look showed that it was the unknown teacher from the night before.
"Morning, Mister Potter," the man said with a quick nod and smile, before walking past him. Harry turned around and stared frowning at the retreating back of the man.
Who the bloody hell was he? He couldn't really be a new professor, could he? He shook bewildered his head and then resumed walking towards the Great Hall. He hesitated when he came closer, fearful that he would find everything totally out of place there too.
And he did.
Harry was either having a really weird dream, a vision to mess with him from Voldemort or he had to be in an alternate reality, like Hermione once had written a nine foot paper about for History of Magic.
What other reason could there be for the Great Hall to be decked in blue?
Harry gazed astonished around the Great Hall. It was as if he was looking through blue tinted glasses. The once wooden benches and tables were a dark blue, the plates, utensils and goblets were a lighter shade of blue.
The candles floating up in the air were blue. There was even a blue carpet on the ground! Had someone did this as a prank? Still shaking his head slightly in shock, he walked over to his usual place at the Gryffindor table. He was about to sit down as someone called out to him.
"Hey Potter! What are you doing here?"
He turned to face Neville, who he recognized by voice, and then stared flabbergasted at the other Gryffindor. Neville didn't look anything like himself. Harry could still vaguely see his old friend in him, but that was all. Neville looked stronger, more confident and certainly had broader shoulders.
Neville gave the guys around him an semi-amused look. "I know that people can't help being in awe of my great person, Potter," he said with a gracious smirk that looked completely off on his face. "-but stop staring or people might start to think things."
Harry just stared at him as if he had sprouted another head-or a different one for that matter-and raised questioning a brow. Had Neville just sounded arrogant? Well, that was one thing he had never expected from the usually meek guy.
Neville's smirk slowly disappeared off his face and he appeared to feel uncomfortable under Harry's blank stare. Almost as if he had expected Harry to actually feel bothered by his remark.
Neville glanced at his friends, who send him uncomprehending looks back and he then apparently straightened his resolve. The look on his face was un-amused when he looked at Harry again.
"Potter, you Puffs have your own bloody house-table. I don't think anyone here has invited you to sit with them," he snorted and took a big gulp of his pumpkin juice. "We don't associate with losers like you," he added with a soft chuckle, which was promptly joined by others at the Gryffindor table.
Harry scowled upon hearing the insult and was close to grabbing his wand and using a Bat-Bogey Hex on Neville. Instead he took a deep breath, turned around and walked away. His hands balled into fists at his sides.
"What's up with him?" he heard someone ask. Then another student muttered something about the stability of his mind. Was it not that even Harry was doubting his sanity; he would have turned around and told them to shut their traps or he would do it for them.
It was all so very wrong, he thought as he stalked out of the Great Hall. He ignored the marble staircase heading up to the first floor and instead went down the staircase to the kitchen.
Harry was starting to suspect something and it was not all that pleasant to him. So far, more people had remarked that he belonged in Hufflepuff, which was really weird. It made him wonder...
Could Hermione's theory of alternate worlds be true and had he just fallen into one?
To Be Continued
VG Jekyll (September 2014): Rewritten! Some parts suddenly shifted to Neville's pov, which was odd, so I changed that.
[With You – Linkin Park]