(A/N so this is my new plot bunny. It's been banging around in my head for a while, though I feel I should warn you I have no idea where it's going to go. I have a vague idea, but no clear plot. But then again, Liquida Tenebris was the same, and now I know exactly where that's going. So who knows.)
(Warnings: Slash, male on male. What more could you expect from me? Possible character deaths.)
Thank you, confusion.
Harry James Potter shifted in his four poster bed, happily sighing and stretching. Until he fully gained conciseness.
That was when he frowned.
It was the beginning of his sixth year, and now everyone knew for a fact that Voldemort had truly returned. There was no way to deny it, not after the battle in the department of mysteries.
Harry sat up and rubbed his eyes, flinching at the still raw memory of Sirius' death. The shocked look on his face as he fell through the veil flashed through Harry's mind, before he shook himself and stood up quickly.
Ron was looking through his trunk, whistling a tune and looking far to chipper for Harry's liking. Who whistled on such a crap day?
"Ron?" Harry questioned, wondering what on earth could have put the ginger in such a cheery mood.
Ron pulled out a set of robes that actually looked quite expensive. When the Boy Who Lived examined his best mates pajamas, he found that they were also of exceptional quality. When did he get those? Harry wondered.
There was something different about his voice. It was more mature. More adult. Harry frowned in confusion, but dismissed it.
"What's got you so chipper?"
"Oh, Hermione and I have a date this morning." The Boy Who Lived frowned once more. Something weird was going on here.
"You do? Since when?" It was Ron's turn to frown.
"What are you talking about? We've been dating for months. You know that."
No, he didn't know that. They hadn't told him. He felt slightly angry that they had left him out of the loop.
"Oh. Well, what are you two doing?" Harry tried to hide the hurt in his voice.
"We're going to have a picnic by the lake for breakfast. Which do you think?" Ron asked, holding up two sets of robes that were both rather expensive looking.
Harry wondered what the hell he was missing.
"Er, the left." The brunette said, instead of asking what the hell was going on, like he wanted too.
"That's what I thought. It matches my hair better. Though, they are both pretty fantastic." Harry's eyes widened slightly. He had never heard his best mate talk like that. He almost sounded like Malfoy.
The Boy Who Lived looked around the room, as if he was trying to find someone who thought this was as weird as he did. While he scanned the room, he noticed an extra bed. The circular room was larger than he remembered it, as well.
"Did we get a transfer student, or something?" Harry asked, and Ron raised his eyebrow.
"No, what are you talking about? You're acting rather strange, Harry."
"But there's an extra bed," He gestured to the bed, as if it would prove his point.
"That's Tony's bed. Don't be daft." The ginger said, throwing his robe on.
"I'm going to go and meet Hermione now, you know how she gets if you're late."
Harry nodded dumbly, and his best friend left the room with a confidant stride that only served to confuse the Boy Who Lived further.
"What the hell is going on?" Harry muttered.
He decided to go down to breakfast, hoping that someone else had an explanation.
He pulled his robes out of his trunk, and quickly changed into them. He then made his way to the mirror, and ran his hand through his hair, frowning. He wished that he could somehow tame it. He was frustrated by the way it stuck out in all directions, as if he had stuck his finger in a power socket.
His hand froze midway through his hair, and he stared in shock.
His scar was gone.
Not a trace of it remained.
"Holy shit," He muttered.
"What is going on?" He repeated, as if someone was going to answer him. He looked at himself in the mirror closely then, and noticed that he was taller. And no where near as scrawny as he used to be.
He shook his head fiercely. There was no way he was awake. He had to be dreaming.
He pinched his arm, which was much more defined, and blinked in shock when he realized that he felt the pain from it.
"I'm not asleep." He told the empty room. But he had to be.
He left the room quickly then, not even bothering with his hair. He needed to figure this out. Something was very wrong here.
The first thing that Harry noticed when he entered the Great Hall was that the Slytherin table was almost half it's previous size. And even then, the table was almost empty, with only twenty students sitting there.
Harry glanced up at the staff table, and noticed that Snape and Trelawney were both missing. In their seats sat two people he had never seen before.
What the hell is going on? Harry thought again, trying to catch the Headmaster's eye and not succeeding.
He took a seat at the Gryffindor table warily, taking a goblet of pumpkin juice to keep his hands busy. Neville sat across from him, and he was showing the boy to his left something excitedly. He then turned to Harry and said;
"hey, check out what my mom got me!" Harry had no idea what the object was, but that wasn't the reason his eyebrows had disappeared into his hairline.
"Your mom?" He asked, wondering if he'd misheard. Neville's mother was supposed to be in saint Mungos, totally incapacitated. How could she have possibly sent her son something?
"Yeah, it's a sneakoscope. Pretty cool, right?"
Harry nodded, his face blank.
He looked around the table for Ginny, hoping that she could explain this madness to him, only to find that she wasn't there. He scanned the room, and his jaw dropped when he looked over at the Ravenclaw table.
Because sitting there, with a blue tie and the Ravenclaw house symbol on his cloak, was Draco Malfoy.
Harry pinched his leg, as he had earlier with his arm, because he simply couldn't be awake right now. No one woke up one morning to find that they had been transported to another universe.
He once again tried to catch Dumbledore's eye, but he was still engaged in an animated conversation with professor McGonagall.
"Something really weird is going on," Harry muttered.
Harry checked his timetable, making sure that that hadn't miraculously changed as well. It hadn't. he still had potions with the Ravenclaw's first thing.
He was oddly nervous about seeing Malfoy. Though he knew that this had to be dream. A vivid, insanely weird, dream.
He took a seat towards the back of the class, and waited for the blonde to enter. Surely he had seen wrong? There wasn't a way to suddenly change houses, was there? Surely not. When Malfoy walked in, he spotted Harry and started to walk directly towards him. The Boy Who Lived stiffened, preparing for conflict. He noted that the other boys tie was still blue and silver.
"Hey, Harry. I was thinking that we should postpone the study session next week, so we can train for the quiddich match."
Harry blinked rapidly, staring at the ex Slytherin in shock.
"What?" He asked dumbly.
"The quiddich match? Gryffindor verses Ravenclaw? I hope you didn't forget. Because we're going to kick your arse." Malfoy smiled warmly, and Harry was completely bewildered.
"Oh, yeah, that." He decided to go with it, because he was just dreaming, right?
"Are you okay? You seem really freaked out."
"Err, yeah I'm fine. I just didn't get much sleep."
Malfoy grinned and patted him on the shoulder.
"Well make sure you get some sleep sometime between now and next week and we'll be all good." He turned and spotted Hermione and Ron entering, holding hands and giggling, and he gave Harry a final wave and took a seat not far from the front.
By this point, Harry had given up being shocked. Ron took the seat on his left, and Hermione sat down next to him, their hands never came apart.
"What did Draco say?" The ginger asked as he sat down. The blonde's first name sounded really strange coming out of Ron's mouth.
"Oh. Just the quiddich match next week. He was telling me that we should postpone the study group." Whatever that is, he added mentally.
"Oh, damn. I was looking forward to that. He's damn good at ancient runes." This time, he couldn't help but be shocked by his best mates words.
"You take runes?" Harry asked. Ron looked at him like he had grown another head.
"Of course I do. I have since third year. What has gotten into you today, Harry? It's like you've forgotten everything." Hermione looked over at Harry then, looking curious.
"What's Harry forgotten?" she asked Ron.
"Everything, apparently." The red head sighed, and then faced the front as the Professor entered.
"Good morning, class. Today we will be covering the draught of living death." This was were Harry zoned out completely. He wasn't going to bother with potions if he was asleep.
After an insanely boring Herbology lesson with the Hufflepuff's, Harry, Hermione and Ron made their way to the castle for lunch.
"You seem really confused, Harry. Are you sure you're okay?" Hermione asked again. She had asked him a fair few times, and each time, Harry had claimed tiredness. He still had no idea what was going on, but he didn't want them all to think he was crazy. If this wasn't a dream, he didn't want to end up with the other crazies at saint mungos.
"Yes, Hermione. For the hundredth time. I just had hardly any sleep. And I had the strangest dream. It's really bugging me." Hopefully that would get her off his back.
"Okay Harry. But if you start feeling light headed or anything, you have to let us know, okay?" She said it as if she were speaking to a child, and Harry resented it.
"Yes, okay. I'll be fine, I swear." Though Harry wasn't so sure he was speaking the truth.
Maybe he was going crazy.
Maybe his world had always been this way. And he had just made the rest up.
Harry was once again sitting in the great hall, and once again, he couldn't seem to catch the headmasters eye. The tables were fuller than they had been that morning, but Harry still hadn't spotted Ginny.
"Hey, Ron, where's Ginny?" The red head blinked at him for a few seconds.
"You mean my little sister?"
"Yeah, I haven't seen her all day." Ron and Hermione shared a concerned look, and Harry knew he had said something wrong.
"She's at home Harry. Where she should be. Why would she be here?"
"Oh, right. Yeah. Just out of curiosity though, why wouldn't she be here?" He asked, and his best mates eyebrows rose.
"She's two years old, Harry." Ron spoke slowly with a concerned expression, as if he were worried that Harry was suddenly going to strip naked and roll about on the table.
"Oh, yeah I knew that." On the inside, Harry was absolutely losing his mind. What was going on? What else had changed? And why hadn't he woken up?
"So," Hermione said, interrupting Harry's near mental break down.
"Have you spoken to your parents about coming to the quiddich match? You said you were going to invite them?" She asked in a wary tone, watching him carefully.
My parents? Harry thought, shocked. Their alive? He blinked rapidly at the busy haired girl across from him, not knowing exactly what to say.
"Hermione, does the name Voldemort mean anything to you?" She shook her head.
"No, who's that?"
Harry felt as though he was going to hyperventilate.
"You don't know," He whispered, more to himself.
"Know what, Harry? You really don't look so good. Maybe we should get you to the hospital wing."
Harry had barely heard her. He was still stuck on the fact that there was no Dark Lord and his parents were apparently alive.
He glanced over at the Slytherin table, feeling as though he had too. And sitting there, smirking at him, was Tom Riddle.
He raised his glass to the bewildered Gryffindor, in a mock cheers. He then winked and took a sip of his drink.