Disclaimer: By the way, I don't own any of this. In case someone thought I did. Cause that'd be real believable, you know?


"A fascinating wonder, prophecies, don't you think?" hissed Voldemort. He

held the blue orb in his hand. "Bellatrix, be a dear and make sure no one comes down here. Mister Potter, shall we have a listen?"

"Not going to kill me first?" asked Harry, trying to be at least a little defiant. It was all he had left, thinking of his friends.

"No, actually," said Voldemort. "Well, not yet, at least. How many times have I tried, and failed? No, instead, we take a listen."

The blue orb lifted out of his hand, and a spectral voice that Harry unfortunately recognized began to speak.


"Not bad, not bad at all," said Voldemort. "Either must die at the hand of the other… You know what that means, Harry?"

Harry glared, shifting in the chains that were wrapped around him.

"It means, if we never kill each other, neither of us can die. It means we have to get you nice and far away." He waved his wand, crushing the prophecy sphere into dust and then levitated Harry. Harry returned to struggling against the chains, even as his own wand was resting in Voldemort's robes.

"What to do, what to do…" said Voldemort as he stared at the thestral feeding on Ron's corpse. Harry cursed him a few times. "Ah. Of course. I knew I let them in here for a reason." He whistled. "Over here."

The thestral looked up from it's gruesome meal and trotted over to Voldemort. Voldemort conjured a saddle on the reptilian horse, and then dropped Harry onto it. The chains adjusted themselves, tying him to the animal. Harry felt Voldemort slip something into his pocket.

"Can't have you falling off, now can I? Thestrals are interesting creatures. That fool, Hagrid, loved the poor dears. But much like the Lovegood girl, they just aren't all there. Not here, not in any place, really. And because of that, they can travel much farther than anyone truly realizes." Voldemort stopped, his wand forming a complicated pattern at the Thestral. "Hello, Dumbledore… and Sirius Black, yes? I'm sad to say I've won, I've won, the day is done. The boy will be safe." Harry found his wand stuck to his hand. "From me, from you, from all of us. And, most of all, from fulfilling the prophecy. Goodbye, Harry Potter."

Harry watched as Voldemort waved- He waved at Harry, as the thestral took flight straight at the wall. Harry rolled his eyes, thinking this wasn't much of an escape plan, when the wall fell away, and cold flooded Harry. He shivered, feeling ice form on his face and nose, on his entire body as his breath flowed across his face, cracking on his skin. He closed his eyes, feeling the cold trying to freeze them. He felt his tears harden on his face even as he lost all feeling, and then there was a burst of warmth. And a familiar growl of anger.

He couldn't open his eyes, but his immediate thought was to wonder why Voldemort would send him to the Hogwarts infirmary.

He didn't have time to think of an answer, however, as he was too busy passing out.


"Exposure. Honestly, how on Earth does a boy pass out from exposure when it's bloody June," grumbled Madam Pomphrey. "Undoing frost-nip is bad enough, but exposure."

"Voldemort did it," mumbled Harry.

"V-V- You-Know-Who?" asked Madam Pomphrey. "What would You-Know-Who want with you?"

Harry opened his eyes, and stared at Madam Pomphrey. She stared back, then jumped.

"You look just like Harry Potter!"

He stared a little longer, before he said the only thing that he could in this situation.

"I am Harry Potter."

"You're Harry Potter? Trust me, I know Harry. He's in here enough. You'd need to gain about six inches and three stone to be Harry. You've got his and his mother's eyes, but you definitely aren't him. He's no where near as beaten up as you are. I'll have to get Albus or Severus down here to help sort you out. You just get some rest, now, alright?"

Harry stared at Madam Pomphrey for a minute, before closing his eyes, rubbing them, then opening them again and continuing to stare at her as she wandered away, muttering about confundus charms.

Harry shook his head, and leaned back on the bed, and ignored her suggestion. Instead, he thought about the prophecy. Born to those who had thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. Had his parents defied the Dark Lord three times? He frowned. He was definitely born as the seventh month dies. July 31st, that much was obvious. Mark him as his equal? Again, obvious. He had a scar from Voldemort, didn't he? But a power he knows not? What could that be? Harry sighed. Either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives wasn't obvious, either. It was to confusing, so he stopped thinking about it, and concentrated on right now.

What was going on now, then? Poppy recognized him, but said he wasn't Harry Potter. How could he not be Harry Potter, when he'd always been Harry Potter. Much farther than anyone truly realizes. Where was he, really? Hell, when was he?

A black-haired girl with violet eyes, dressed in a regular school uniform with red-and-gold Gryffindor tie walked into the infirmary as Harry stood up and began to look for his wand.

"Hey, you alright?" she asked.

"Fine," said Harry, putting on his glasses. He checked his clothing, and found it intact.

"No, really, are you alright?"

"Is Dumbledore the headmaster?" asked Harry absently as he walked

"Yes, of course, why wouldn't he be?"

"What year is it, then?"

"1996. If you're wondering what day it is, it's Saturday the 15th."

"June?" asked Harry, furrowing his brow.

"Yes. You know, you look a lot like that git, Potter."

"So I've been told," said Harry, as he walked to Poppy's office. "My wand?"

"You're staying right there, young man, until Dumbledore or Severus comes along and sorts out that confundus charm. I'm not even going to ask how Potter managed to transfigure you into him, but I know he's going to have detention with Hagrid halfway through summer for it."

"I can save both him and me a lot of trouble by saying I am Harry Potter, and that I need to talk with Dumbledore now, and that… wait-" He turned around and looked at the girl behind him. Her hair was well styled over her face, somewhat covering her violet eyes. "I don't recognize you."

"Rachel Marx," said the girl. "And really, you look nothing like Harry. I mean, your hair is much messier, and you're half a foot short for him. That, and you're freakishly skinny. Do you eat anything? And those clothes, I've seen better on tramps."

"Yeah, well I don't recognize you at all. Poppy, can I please have my wand?"

"Not until we undo what ever has been done to you."

"Rachel, finite me, please?"

"Finite," said Rachel, then glanced at her wand. "Could be a potion?"

"Polyjuice lasts an hour, and I've been here at least that long," replied Harry.

Poppy was silent at this.

"Alright, suppose you're right, and you're Harry Potter. Why do you need to talk to Dumbledore?"

"Because I have a bloody question about a bloody prophecy, and bloody Voldemort just booted me out of my bloody fucking reality after killing all of my bloody fucking friends!" shouted Harry.

Poppy didn't see the cracking of the unbreakable window panes, but she did hear and glance at them. The spider web of cracks from where the boy gripped the door was obvious, and he was shaking with the power he'd just released. She noticed Rachel had already stepped back and was pointing her wand at him. He stopped, and took a calming breath, even as Poppy started to speak.

"Now, I think that's all the more reason to take a calming pot-"

Then the first crack was heard behind them.

"Poppy!" shouted a red-haired woman. "Kingsley's hurt bad, and we've got more incoming." Harry glanced once at the bleeding man and stepped out of the way

"On it! Rachel, get to the cabinets, and get me what I ask for. You, whatever your name is-"

"I'm out of the way," said Harry, knowing he wouldn't be much help here.

Harry stood and watched as more people portkeyed into the infirmary, half a dozen all told, some injured, one or two dead.

Voices shouting about the Dark Lord himself, and a battle between him and Dumbledore in the Ministry Atrium built a story of horror similar to the one Harry had just left.

"All over that stupid prophecy," muttered a red-headed woman, standing back from the chaos. She'd gravitated over to Harry, realizing he'd picked the one spot that was out of the way of everything else, but still looking over the entire ward.

"A prophecy?" asked Harry.

"Hm, oh you didn't hear that from me, please don't mention it."

"Is it a prophecy about the Dark Lord?" asked Harry.

"I- it- it might. What do you know about it?"

"The whole ruddy thing," grumbled Harry. "Which is why I need to talk to Dumbledore."

The red-haired woman turned and looked at Harry, even as he watched the activity in the ward. He recognized an injured Tonks being fed potions by the black-haired girl. Poppy was still over by Kingsley, putting his leg back together again.

"Who are you?" she asked

Harry turned and looked at her. His eyes widened with shock and he stepped away.

"Harry?" she asked, furrowing her brow in confusion. "What happened to you?"

"L-lily?" asked Harry, "You can't be Lily Potter, she's dead."

"What?" asked Lily. "James!"

"I'm busy!" said a black-haired man leaning over someone else. Vance, maybe?

"Find Harry!"

"Remus! Check a map and find Harry!"

Remus Lupin pulled out a piece of parchment, glancing at it.

"Lily, he's right next to you? Wait, Harry? That's not Harry." Remus's wand was already out, and a jet of red light was sent at the boy. He grabbed Lily and threw her into its path. He stole her wand, and stopped another stunning spell with a quickly cast protego.

The boy immediately ran for it, charging out into the hall, Remus chasing after him. The boy sent another stunner behind him as he ran through the halls, dodging students.

"Stop him!" shouted Remus, hoping someone would try.

"Stupefy!" shouted a girl's voice. The boy was fast, snapped out a protego to block it and snapped off his own stupefy faster than Remus could blink, taking down the girl - Hermi-something he recalled. The boy kept running then glanced back like he'd seen a ghost.

"Hermione?" he said, skidding to stop, then turning around. "Hermione?" he asked again. "Rennervate." He looked at Remus, then back at the bushy-haired girl as she stood up, and glared at Harry. "Moony?" he asked. Remus stopped- they'd never told anybody those names, never at all. "What's going on?" he asked Remus.

The boy was stock still, tears were in his eyes. He looked to much like Harry, except… except… the bags under his eyes. How long had it been since he'd last slept?

"Honestly, some people," muttered the girl, walking off in the direction of the library.

He was shorter, skinnier, like he hadn't been feed a proper meal at all. Who was he? And why did he look so much like Harry?

"Come on, Harry," said Remus. "Let's… let's get you up to the Headmaster's office," he said, realizing it was just around the corner. "We'll wait for him there, alright?"

"Yeah," said Harry, as they both walked up to the massive stone gargoyle.

"Jelly-Belly," said Remus, and the gargoyle moved aside. They rode the escalator up to the top, and opened the door. The office was empty, except for the phoenix, resting on his perch. Fawkes looked so young, but Remus knew he wasn't near one of his burning days. Had Dumbledore really faced Voldemort in the Ministry? It seemed likely, now.

Harry walked into the office, and stared about it, ignoring the portraits of previous headmasters, before dropping into one of the chairs and pulling his knees up to his chin. He was holding it all in, just like James would.

"What's going on, Moony? I see Lily, I see James, I see Hermione, but they're all dead, Moony," he whispered. "Is Ron alive? Neville? Luna? Ginny?"

"Is Sirius dead?" asked Remus, curious, wondering who he was talking about.

"No," said Harry. "Sirius isn't dead. He wasn't in the ministry, with me. It was the six of us, in the Ministry, and it was all a stupid trap."

"Why were you in the Ministry?"

"Because it was a trap. I thought Voldemort was torturing Sirius, trying to get into this door. And when I got through the door, it was all a trap. There was a prophecy, and as we were leaving, Voldemort was waiting. Killed them all so quickly, but left me alive. Wrapped me up in chains, and wanted me to listen to the prophecy."

"What about the prophecy?" asked Remus.

"Born as the seventh month dies, marked as his equal," said Harry.


Harry brushed aside his hair. Remus saw the lightening bolt scar above his right eye, and frowned.

"Lily died for me, Remus. He came for me, and Lily died for me. She can't be alive, she's dead."

At this, Remus was took a pinch of floo powder, and pushed his head into the flame.

"Yes, I found him. We're in the Headmaster's office. Sirius, can you get up here? Maybe he'll talk to you, too. Lily, can you send up Dumbledore as soon as you find him? … James, find Harry… no, really, make sure he's alright… thank you."

Remus pulled his head out of the fire, and sat down next to Harry. A moment later, Sirius stepped through the flames.

"He really does look like Harry," he said. "Bizarro Harry, maybe. Where'd you get so skinny, eh?"

"You don't look like Sirius," said Harry, only his eyes flicking to Sirius.

"Is he serious?" asked Sirius, looking at Remus.

"No, you're Sirius," mumbled Harry.

"Dear Merlin, he does know me," said Sirius. "Only I could have trained that into someone. Alright, I'm getting Lily and James."

"Lily and James are dead," said Harry. Sirius stopped.

"Er- what? I just saw them in the infirmary."

"Dead. They died. Voldemort killed them."

Sirius shivered as he realized the kid didn't even flinch a bit when he said that name.

"When did You-Know-Who kill them?"

"Halloween, 1981. I remember my dad yelling, saying he was here. Then he died. Lily was in the room with me, screaming to take her instead of me. Voldemort told her to stand aside. Then there's a flash. Then he's laughing, and there's another green light."

"How can you remember that?" asked Remus, running the math in his head.

"Dementors. It's why you taught me the Patronus charm third year."

Both Sirius and Remus were utterly silent.

"I don't want to know," said Remus, finally.

Harry continued to sit, motionless, tears streaming down his face.

The flame turned green, and Lily stepped through.

"Er- Lily, what're-" started Sirius.

"Dumbledore needs to spend at least the entire day at the Ministry cleaning up. Voldemort splattered Fudge across half the damn atrium when he realized we caught him out, and I want to know what the hell is going on."

"You find Harry alright?" asked Remus.

"Yes. Wasn't even up yet. So… anything?"

"His life is one heaping pile of shit piled upon another heaping pile of shit," said Sirius.

Harry began to shake, his body racking itself with shivers, but not emitting a noise.

"Are- are you alright?" asked Lily, as she realized blood was dribbling from his lip. Tears were streaming down his face, mixing with the blood pooling on his chin and dripping down. She gently took her wand back from his hand and pulled him from the chair. He flinched as she did, but she was too surprised at how light he was to notice, even as she set him on the floor and held him close.

"Shh, it's alright now," she said, realizing he still hadn't uttered a single sound. What had happened to him, that he didn't cry out? That he'd tear apart his own lip to not make a single sound?

James entered the office, and then looked down at his wife comforting a young man on the floor. Remus stood up, motioned Sirius to follow, and everyone went back down the spiral escalator.

"What's going on?" asked James.

"We're not sure yet," said Remus.

"Best guess, then," said James.

"He's from another dimension, and his life has been shit upon by an entire flight of dragons," said Sirius.

"It can't be that bad."

"Prongs, the kid's having a complete mental breakdown, and he's tearing apart his own lip to make sure he doesn't make a sound doing it," said Sirius.

"He knows I'm Moony," said Remus. "And he knows Sirius' god damn puns by heart."

"Alright. So he might actually be… he might be a different Harry or something. That doesn't explain how he got here, though."