The last bar after the end of the world

Ah, it burns! It's horrible damn it!

Ah, it's you again. What can I get you? Spoke a deep voice to which Harry paid no attention, so disoriented was he.

The moment before, he was screaming in pain in the blaze he had started himself (how could Lupin have thought he was smart enough to get into Slytherin) and just after, he felt perfectly fine.

Better than good. In fact, he had never felt so good in his life. All pain had vanished from his body. It was a bit like being in a nice hot bath, but without the sensation of heat. He then suddenly realized that he was completely naked and hastily placed his hands in front of his groin. Then he looked around to find something to cover himself and immediately let out a cry of horror before falling backward. Or rather turning over into a lying position given the absence of a floor. He was standing in the middle of an infinite void. All around him was filled with darkness. But not the oppressive darkness one faces at night. It was more like his environment was made of one of those black backgrounds sometimes used as a backdrop in certain levels of Mario Bros. It's not that he couldn't see anything. On the contrary, he felt as if he could see as if it were broad daylight. It's just that there was nothing to see.

Forgetting all modesty, he frantically tried to use his hands to get up or grab onto something. But he found only emptiness. Certainly, hedid not have the impression of falling, but this strangeness only added to his panic. He was fed up with the wizards' oddities. He just wanted to return to his father and adoptive mother and live a normal life far from all these sadists and their magic that brings only death and desolation.

If you don't order, I will have to ask you to leave. Declared with slowness the deepest voice he had ever heard.

Harry turned around hastily (that's what he wanted to do and without understanding how, his body seemed to obey), then gasped in terror. Behind an antique wooden bar, dotted with wear marks from time, a skeleton with a bow tie and a top hat was calmly wiping a glass with an old tattered cloth.

I, I, you, you. Stammered Harry

What is it? Is it the top hat that's not right? I thought it was too dressy. He said before making it disappear with a snap of his fingers.

Uh, do you have clothes? Harry finally said, trying once again to hide what he could with his hands.

Yes, of course. This is a reputable establishment here. He said, pointing to his bow tie.

No, but yes, I mean: could you give me some clothes?

Have you already forgotten? Humans definitely have a memory like a goldfish. You are the only one who can change the perception you have of yourself.

What!?

He sighed and explained slowly, emphasizing each syllable (as if he were trying to explain to a young child how to tie their shoes):

Close your eyes and imagine that you have clothes on.

Having no better ideas (and nothing better to do), Harry obeyed. Upon reopening his eyes, he noticed he was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and his old sneakers.

It's better, thank you. Where are we? asked Harry.

I don't know. Probably nowhere. Replied the skeleton.

How did I get here?

If you insist on having a conversation, you'll have to order something. I'm glad you brought me another customer, but that's no reason to consume for free.

Another customer?

It's true that I might have gotten carried away too quickly. He doesn't seem to be old enough to drink, continued the strange bartender.

Harry observed his surroundings more closely and noticed in the distance a sort of hideous baby. It was the most vile thing he had ever seen. Fascinated, he moved in its direction. Or rather, he thought about moving and mysteriously, he felt as if he was getting closer. But he had to stop halfway. The aura emanating from the creature quickly made him nauseous. He hurriedly moved away with an intimate conviction. He knew this thing.

The last few months came back to him like a flash. He was a prisoner in the dark. Not like here. There, it was real darkness, thick as Scottish fog (why hadn't he built Hogwarts in the south instead). He saw his body move in his place and commit atrocities that would give him nightmares for the rest of his life.

However, the worst part was the intense hatred he felt constantly. He didn't know it was possible to hate to the point of feeling pain. But that's what heHe constantly felt it for everyone. He desired only one thing: to harm them. At times, he recognized a familiar face and the pain disappeared for a few seconds. Nevertheless, very quickly, he felt an intense fatigue and then sank back into darkness.

Until the day when the hatred tried to turn towards his mother. He could not hate her. But he was so weak and confused. Then he remembered that Dumbledore had told him that it could only be destroyed by basilisk venom or Fiendfyre. He no longer remembered what that thing was that Dumbledore was talking about at that moment. In fact, he was no longer sure who Dumbledore was or even who he himself was. However, one certainty remained: he had to destroy that thing. It was the only way for the nightmares to stop and for him to finally sleep in peace.

He began the incantation. No one had ever taught him this spell, but in his bad dreams, he cast it so often that he was sure to succeed. Without really being sure of the reason, he apologized. After all he remembered was intense pain. But insignificant compared to that of the last few months.

Then he had forgotten, until he felt what emanated from this monstrous baby. He didn't know why, but he was sure she belonged to the thing that had possessed him during the last months. Now he knew that the memory of the diary had told him the truth: Tom Riddle no longer existed. It had been a long time since Voldemort had anything human left.

So what can I get you? Asked the skeleton again.

Well then. A Firewhisky if you have one.

As usual then.

The skeleton stopped rubbing the glass and took out from under his bar a dust-covered bottle containing a nauseating blackish liquid that the skeleton poured into a half-chipped wooden glass. When the creature handed it to him, Harry almost dropped it. The glass was icy. However, he held back just in time.

Harry had never touched alcohol and had no idea what firewhisky looked like. He just knew it was the drink his adoptive father took when he had a problem at the factory. However, he was sure it didn't look like that. Nevertheless, he pinched his nose and decided to take a sip. After all, he was already dead (now he remembered) and he would never find a better occasion than his own death to drink. Harry thought that in a way, it made perfect sense to find a bar in the afterlife and wondered why no religion had thought of it before.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to swallow the vile liquid before immediately spitting it all out onto the skeleton, which had preemptively opened an umbrella.

As usual, I must remind you that being my only regular client does not give you the right to so neglect the basic rules of etiquette. Said the skeleton while putting away the umbrella.

This thing was completely rotten, thought Harry. He felt like he had swallowed a corpse. Between two coughs, Harry asked:

Regular?

Yes. It surprised me too the first time. Usually, people don't come back. Yet, I make a lot of effort with my attire. He said, tightening his knotted bow tie of which he seemed very proud.

I have no memory of ever coming here.

As usual. Maybe that's why no one comes back. Humans have too poor a memory to remember the place. I should make business cards. The skeleton thought out loud.

I'm not sure that's the crux of the problem. And usually, where do they go afterwards?

I don't know. They just disappear when they're ready. You, on the other hand, use the three relics you generously offered to that charming creature to return to the other side of the veil.

Harry forced himself to look at the horrible baby and managed to distinguish that it was holding a wand in its deformed fingers. Looking more closely, he saw that it was wrapped in his invisibility cloak. But most importantly, one of its fingers was adorned with the ring he had sought with Dumbledore on that fateful day.

He then had confirmation that his nightmares were real. He had been possessed by Voldemort and forced to commit atrocities. It was no longer an option for him to return to live with the Dursleys and take over from Vernon at the drill factory, as it probably no longer existed. There was also the fact that he was dead, but if the skeleton was real, it was not an insurmountable obstacle.

He then thought back to his last memory before his death: Petunia Dursley, his adoptive mother, giving him a look filled with love. How, despite everything, could she have addressed him with anything other than hatred? He hated himself now that he remembered everything. It was entirely his fault. He knew that magic was bad. Even though they never dared to address the issue directly for fear of offending the Dursleys, he knew perfectly well what they thought of magic and wizards (like him, his traitorous brain added). But precisely, despite his flaw, he loved her.

For a brief moment, he had thought that his parents were wrong and that magic was wonderful. He even started to think that he could no longer live denying his powers. Even though he continued to love them, he had begun to develop a bit of resentment towards their intolerance. Then Voldemort killed his two best friends. For the second time, Harry's heart was broken, and he made the biggest mistake of his life: he decided to learn dark magic. It wasn't entirely his fault, though. After the death of his brother Dudley, he had also felt very bad, but at the time, he was surrounded and able to grieve. Here, he was alone and had to face the hostility of the wizarding society convinced that he was the heir of Slytherin.

Dumbledore had never clearly expressed to him what had happened, but Harry was sure of one thing: something had broken inside him, and Voldemort had been able to use their connection to try to possess him. As he had done with Ginny. And finally, during their quest to destroy the last Horcrux, the Dark Lord had succeeded. Voldemort must have enchanted the ring so that whoever saw it felt the need to wear it. As soon as he finished putting on the ring, he felt an intense pain that never left him. After that, everything was confused, but he knew that Voldemort had possessed him and had ravaged the world. He was about to conquer the world (or rather destroy it) and impose his reign of terror for eternity when he met his mother's gaze. A surge of love then overwhelmed him and repelled Voldemort. He then had the presence of mind to cast a Fiendfyre on him and the ring. Thus destroying the last Horcrux and the body he possessed.

So how was it that the ring, his cloak, and Dumbledore's wand were still in Voldemort's possession? He still clearly remembered that he had arrived with nothing. If death was telling the truth (Harry assumed the skeleton was death), then these were not ordinary objects. His memories of possessing them were blurry, but by concentrating, he recalled that Voldemort wore them constantly. There was nothing surprising about him keeping his new wand and his last Horcrux permanently on him. But as for the cloak, it was more surprising. Harry even thought he remembered that he slept with it and was so terrified of it being stolen that he had instantly killed a Death Eater who had accidentally brushed against it.

He had to retrieve them. Not only was it his only hope of returning among the living, but he also couldn't leave such power in the hands of that thing. If death is not the end, then Voldemort could use them to come back even more powerful than last time. Despite his disgust, he slowly approached the creature. Or rather, he slid (he still couldn't get used to how this place worked).

As he got closer, the feeling of disgust became deeper. He wanted only one thing: to run away. When he was a few centimeters from the thing, he felt his heart beating hard and began to hear a dull and regular pounding that was extremely oppressive. His instinct screamed at him to turn back. Why on earth hadn't he-heNot listened to that day?

Death is overrated.

He was finally close enough to reach the three relics. As discreetly as possible, he grabbed the end of the wand and pulled on it. The creature was too weak to offer any resistance, so Harry seized it without any difficulty. He tried to apply the same strategy to retrieve the invisibility cloak. He grabbed a part of the cloak that was hanging next to the thing and pulled with all his strength. But this time, the evil baby seemed to notice something. It stopped crying and writhing. Harry swallowed, but nothing happened.

All he had left to do was retrieve the ring. Only this time, he would be forced to touch this monstrosity. The idea disgusted him deeply, but he had no choice. He closed his eyes and slowly brought his hand closer until it made contact with a skin. His eyes burned, and he was forced to open them and behold two enormous blood-red eyes staring at him.

He swallowed and before he could understand what was happening, he was violently pushed back and the cloak and wand flew in the direction of the creature that seized them. Immediately, they began to glow and 6 shadows escaped from the void to merge with the baby who began to grow into a handsome young man whom Harry knew all too well. In front of him stood the young Tom Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort.

Voldemort let out a huge cry of relief followed by a laugh that made Harry pull himself together. As the skeleton had taught him, he closed his eyes and thought very hard that he had his wand in his hands. As soon as he felt the sensation of warmth in his wand, he wasted no time and cast the most powerful spell he knew:

Endoloris! He shouted.

But nothing happened. Harry tried again and then attempted to use almost every spell he knew, but his wand remained inert. Tom Riddle then turned towards him.

It is useless, dear. Our souls are no longer connected to our magical cores. This wand is just an illusion produced by your mind.

Yours too in that case. Harry retorted angrily, looking for a way to fight.

It seems that you were not very attentive during the time we spent researching the veil that those ignorant people abandoned at the ministry, thinking that a mere Feudeymon could destroy it. Its relics do not belong to the world of men and do not draw their magic from the core of the wizard who uses them. But don't worry. I don't intend to harm you. On the contrary, I want to reward you. Tom commented in a scholarly tone.

Reward me? Are you kidding me. Yelled Harry

I am aware that after everything that has happened, it will take you time to trust me, but time is now the only resource we have in abundance. You allowed me to achieve my greatest dream: to conquer death. In return, I wish to fulfill yours. Tom explained to him with a soothing tone.

He then raised the Elder Wand and began to perform complicated wand movements, accompanied by a strange chant. Harry didn't know it, but it was a variant of Aramaic. Harry watched helplessly as the darkness changed around him. The once empty space was filling with a ghostly mist that gradually took the shape of a multitude of portals connected by threads so fine that Harry doubted their existence. Then the mist took another form. A more disturbing form: an infinity of beings with features similar to his own entering and exiting the portals.

Voldemort then ceased his litany and declared with ecstasy.

Despite everything I have read from ancient legends, I didn't even want to believe that there was life after death. But it's all true. You saved me from my madness and opened new horizons. The relics really allow their master to return to the world of the living at the time of their death.

If that's true then what are you waiting for? You don't need me anymore. Asked Harry

You are absolutely right. However, Lords Voldemort, it is about being grateful. You are not the first wizard to gather the 3 relics. But the first to survive the Avada. The first to have died several times. Do you understand what that means?

That I'm unlucky? Harry replied sarcastically.

Voldemort burst into genuine laughter. Not the cold and cruel laugh that usually distorted his face. A true laugh, which only made him more charming. It was subtle, but Harry felt that he was very different from the bloodthirsty monster he knew. Nevertheless, Harry pushed this impression aside. He knew there was nothing human in this thing. If it appeared charming, it must mean that despite its grand declarations, it needed him. Voldemort liked nothing and no one and never showed generosity without reason. He absolutely had to find out what Voldemort wanted and find a way to prevent him from using him.Death had said that souls faded into nothingness when they were ready. As far as Harry was concerned, for their two souls, it was more than time.

Voldemort abruptly stopped laughing. Then he resumed with increased passion:

It's quite the opposite. You are the luckiest being in the universe. Don't you understand what's unfolding before your eyes? You can choose to return to that Halloween night, thus creating a universe where two masters of death and two copies of the relics exist simultaneously. Such a violent paradox can only have one outcome: the creation of a new universe where you'll be free to change history. A new timeline. Something far beyond anything wizard magic allows. Your past selves understood this. Or not, but it doesn't matter. Voluntarily or not, they returned and created a multitude of timelines in their quest for what every being worthy of the name should seek: excellence. A being capable of defeating me can only be exceptional and recognize the mediocrity of our world. I wanted to make them pay for their mediocrity by making them kneel before me. I wanted to eliminate all these impurities to keep only the few exceptional beings and together rebuild a world worthy of us. But without me suspecting anything, you were working on a much grander project: erasing even the trace of these larvae by transforming them into butterflies. Tom explained to him with excitement.

What are you talking about, you nutcase?

Tom resumed somberly:

Young elected official, you disappoint me enormously. You seem to be the degenerated version of yourself. So I will keep it simple: We can change the course of time to create a better world. A world without wars and without suffering. A world where the ignorant educate themselves and where the weak do not fear the strong. Alone, you will achieve nothing. But together we could create such a world.

And rule over it, I suppose? Harry asked in a falsely innocent tone.

In an ideal world, the most capable would necessarily be called to lead their peers towards greatness. Would you really want to leave power to pathetic people like Fudge?

This time, it was Harry's turn to laugh. But it was a forced laugh.

I am reassured to know that you're still a real asshole. You can shove your plan right up your ass. I would never cooperate with you, even if it were the only way to save humanity.

If you persist in this kind of childish reaction, I will have to abandon you here and embark alone on the path to greatness. Tom insidiously threatened.

I know you, Tom. If you could, you would have already done it. The truth is, you're stuck here with me for eternity.

The handsome face of young Riddle contorted into a cruel grin. For the first time, Harry saw in his features those of the Voldemort he knew.

Me too, I know you. And I know exactly how to punish your insolence. Maybe you will finally learn not to doubt the powers of the great Lord Voldemort.

An intense magic radiated from Lord Voldemort and one of the portals began to shine, then although still made of mist, it seemed to acquire a sort of solidity. Voldemort then turned his wand against him and Harry felt as if he were being sucked in. He tried to fight, but barely managed to slow his fall. He needed to find something to turn the situation around. He couldn't let this monster be free with such power. And whatever was on the other side of the portal, he knew it wouldn't be pleasant for him. But his mind was blank.

You ill-mannered person. You weren't really planning to leave without paying. Declared a voice with supernatural gravity in anger.

All of a sudden, his hand was seized by what seemed to be an ice cube. And it began to emit an intense smell of rot. But what caught his attention were Voldemort's screams of horror.

Aaaaaah! What is this thing? Aaaaaaaaaaaaah! No, don't come closer.

Immediately, he stopped being drawn to the portal and was able to turn his gaze to see what was happening. Beside him was death, which had grabbed him by the arm to prevent him from escaping. But his anger had been replaced by intense perplexity.

Are you talking to me? My prices aren't that high! Receiving such complaints, when for millennia, I have only asked for a miserable obol in exchange for my services. Why do all humans believe that death should be free? How far away are the times of old when humans took care to bring their greatest wealth with them. The younger generations are really poorly raised.

But Voldemort did not seem to even hear the skeleton's monologue and continued to scream.

Back off, Monster! No, don't come closer!

Panicked, he began casting spells at the skeleton that passed through it without causing the slightest damage. Death continued to advance until one of Voldemort's spells accidentally hit the edge of the portal. A magical explosion then occurred that drew them both in.

oOoOoOo

Author's note: The idea of death serving drinks in a bar is borrowed from the Webtoon: Castor-Phénix. I recommend reading it, it's just hilarious. And besides, it's French.

Welcome home

huuuuummmmmpf !

Harry woke up with a start, ready to face Voldemort. So quickly that his head started to spin.

He took only a few steps, but he felt so strange that he almost fell. He had never felt this way before. His body seemed less agile, more hunched than usual. And why did the ground seem so close? And why was he so hot? Wait, how is the ground close? He looked around. He was standing in the middle of the garden at 4 Privet Drive, during what looked like the beginning of a hot summer day.

He approached Vernon's old car parked in front of the driveway and incredulously touched it to make sure it was all real. The metal, still cold on this morning, made him shiver. Not only was it real, but the bodywork no longer bore the traces of Vernon's 'sporty' driving. It seemed new again. He wanted to think more about this curious phenomenon when he heard Petunia's voice from the house calling Dudley for breakfast.

Immediately, all his questions vanished from his mind and he rushed inside the house as fast as he could. The nightmare was over and he was going home.

oOoOoOo

He hastily opened the door and rushed into the Dursleys' hallway. He dashed past the cupboard under the stairs, and immediately, his heart leaped in his chest. In front of him stood his adoptive brother: Dudley Dursley. He was bigger and shorter than he remembered, but very much alive. Immediately, he rushed to him and hugged him with all his strength.

He was then so violently pushed against the wall that his head hit the stair railing. He remained disoriented for a few seconds, while Dudley ridiculously screamed:

Papa, abnormality has touched me.

As soon as he turned red with anger, Vernon stormed in from the adjacent living room and gave him a violent slap. Totally taken by surprise, Harry couldn't help but tumble to the other side of the room and crash against a horrible vase given by Aunt Marge, which shattered into a thousand pieces on impact (hadn't he already broken it while playing soccer). He tried to get up, being careful not to cut himself, when he received a violent kick in the ribs. The pain was such that he could do nothing but roll on the ground without worrying about the shards of ceramic tearing his skin.

How did you come out of your closet, you monstrosity? I'll make you lose the urge to do weird things in this house.

He began to slowly remove his belt. Harry was horrified. It wasn't possible, it was a nightmare. It couldn't be true. His father would never be capable of harming him. He saw with relief Petunia arriving. But instead of coming to save him from Vernon's fury, she rushed to Dudley to examine him.

What did he do to you, my darling? Are you hurt?

No mom.

Do you feel weird?

Uh, yes, a little. I could have a cookie to feel better. Dudley asked in a stupid voice.

Of course, my darling. Come into the kitchen. She replied in a sweet voice.

No! Bring it to me. I want to watch Dad fix the monster. He ordered, in an imperious tone that Petunia would never have tolerated.

Then he turned his gaze back to Harry and began to salivate upon seeing that Vernon had finally managed to remove his belt despite his trembling with rage and his pudgy fingers. He too was bigger than in Harry's memories (but it's true that he had lost a lot of weight after Dudley's murder by Voldemort).

You're going to get what you deserve, you monster. Vernon yelled, raising his belt to hit him.

Monster! It's you who are the monsters. Shouted Harry, raising his hand and gathering his magic.

Although he never left his wand, Voldemort liked to prove to his Death Eaters that he didn't need it to crush any opponent. Harry hoped that after months of possession by Voldemort, he had acquired enough magical power and reflex to rid himself of his insults to the memory of his loved ones. These things were not his parents, but an illusion sent by Voldemort to make him suffer. Harry understood this, seeing Dudley wearing an expression so similar to that of the Death Eaters waiting forTheir master allows them to torture a prisoner. But they would soon understand that he had nothing to do with their usual victim (at least, that's what Harry hoped).

Just before the belt buckle came down on his back, Vernon was violently pushed back and crashed against the wall, which cracked under the impact. Vernon collapsed unconscious, as blood flowed from his head.

Dudley ran for cover like a piglet, without caring to help his father or abandoning his mother whose face had just lost all its color. She remained motionless for a few seconds before rushing in panic to her husband's side. Harry did not expect this. Already, he did not think he was capable of such powerful wandless magic, but above all, he expected Voldemort to stop this charade. He tried to get up to think better, but a violent surge of pain blocked him in his movement. Vernon's kick must have broken something. With difficulty, he recalled a healing routine that Voldemort recited after each battle when he possessed him. Under Petunia's now terrified gaze, he recited the long Latin chant as best he could.

He was about to give up, thinking he must be doing it wrong, when he felt his magic unfold. After a few seconds, he was able to stand up without pain. Now that he was calm and healthy, he examined the room for a clue. Meanwhile, his adoptive mother was slowly moving towards the stairs. She was probably hoping to reach the phone that way. He was going to question her to try to find out more, but his gaze was drawn to a movement coming from the closet. It had been so fleeting that he wondered if he had imagined it, but through the ventilation slits of the closet door, he seemed to have seen green eyes, very similar to Dobby's, watching him from the darkness. But they had scurried away as soon as he started looking in that direction.

Without paying attention to Petunia's protests, he rushed to the cupboard and tried to open it. However, the door resisted with a metallic clank that reminded Harry of the Ministry's dungeons where Voldemort imprisoned his opponents. It was locked from the outside with a bolt and several padlocks that were completely nonexistent in his memory. Feeling a sense of foreboding, he quickly broke them with a new demonstration of wandless magic that made him feel weak. This made him realize that he could not continue at this pace. He would need to quickly find his wand or give up using magic so much.

He opened the cupboard and then recoiled violently as the smell was unbearable. Inside was a gaunt little boy dressed in rags. The pestilential smell from the bucket next to him proved he had been there for a while. The child looked at him with small, frightened green eyes.

And now?

A monster!

That's what young Harry thought when, with a sinister creak, his closet suddenly opened, revealing an almost perfect copy of himself. If he had observed more closely, he would have noticed subtle differences, such as the fact that he was much less thin, more muscular, a little taller, in short, in much better health. However, all he noticed were the eyes filled with anger of his double turning red when he looked at him.

By a reflex acquired during his previous confrontations with Vernon, Harry tried to curl up further in his cupboard, but he was blocked by the back wall. All of a sudden, Harry felt a sense of unease. The air seemed to have changed consistency, and Petunia let out a horrified scream. Then he heard her run to take shelter upstairs. Despite the suffocating heat in the cupboard on this scorching day, Harry began to shiver. He knew it was impossible, but he was convinced that it was because of the stranger. There was a sort of murderous aura emanating from him.

Without saying a word, the stranger grabbed him by the arm and forcefully pulled him outside. Harry let it happen, knowing that resisting only led to more trouble. Once in full light, the stranger examined him. Harry lowered his eyes and held back his questions while his double decided what he was going to do to him. Unintentionally, he turned his head and saw his uncle sprawled against the wall, half knocked out. So that was the jolt that had convinced him to look through the slats of the closet door, risking attracting the attention of his uncle, who was already alerted by what he thought was Dudley's latest lie. Nevertheless, now he understood that Dudley had probably screamed because the stranger had attacked him and not to get him into trouble.

He will survive. The other Harry said laconically, as he watched with satisfaction the blood slowly oozing from Vernon's head.

He seems to have said that to reassure me, thought Harry, but he did not consider it a reassuring prospect. He found the courage to look up and, in turn, observed his double. In the daylight, the other seemed much less frightening and was visibly making a great effort to calm down. His eyes were now a green similar to his own (although he could still see traces of red in them).

Harry began to think and speculate. Was it possible that he had a twin brother? That he had another family besides the Dursleys? A family ready to welcome him as they seemed to have welcomed his twin brother? Or at least to feed him properly and buy him clothes that fit, judging by his twin's appearance. No, it didn't make sense, Harry thought. If other family members willing to take him in had existed, the Dursleys would have been eager to get rid of him. They would have come to visit him to find out how the Dursleys treated him. Yet he had promised himself not to get his hopes up. But the other Harry wasn't a false hope. He was real and seemed strong enough to protect him from Uncle Vernon. And he had come for him (what other reason could he have had for coming here).

As he wondered how he had managed to defeat Vernon, the answer came to him immediately: his twin also had powers, but he controlled them. Harry then felt a surge of rage and jealousy. Despite all his attempts, he had never been able to voluntarily reproduce the strange phenomena that occurred around him. He barely managed to open the door of his cupboard to steal food at night when he was really hungry. But this jealousy was quickly replaced by a wild hope: his twin could teach him, and then no one would mistreat him anymore. He was really special, and he would soon be able to prove it to all those who had scorned him.

Following his good resolutions, Harry remained silent and watched while waiting for what would happen next. Finally, once the red had completely disappeared from his eyes, the other ordered:

Take your things, we're leaving.

His words filled Harry's heart with joy. He hurried to stuff into his school bag the few toys he had managed to steal from Dudley and his school books before impatiently turning back to the other.

You have nothing else?

Harry nodded his head. He gently took him by the hand and led him outside.

oOoOoOo

How old are we? exclaimed Harry in surprise, looking at his reflection in the train window that would take them to London. He seemed much younger than he remembered.

Little Harry replied to him with a perplexed face.

How old are you? Asked Harry Dursley again.

9 years? His young double replied in a small voice, lowering his eyes.

So he had regained the body of his 9-year-old self. That's why he felt so weird. In another context, learning that he had become over 5 years younger would have shocked him, but in one hour, he had just committed suicide, resurrected, and perhaps killed an evil version of his adoptive father. Indeed, he wasn't entirely convinced that Vernon would recover from his head injury. Nevertheless, he had pretended otherwise to prevent the kid from panicking (except that he was now a kid too). Anyway, there was nothing he could do for Vernon, and every minute spent in his presence increased the risk of losing control of his emotions and finishing off his uncle.

No, he must not think about what had happened. If he did, he risked questioning his own version of Vernon and it was not the time. Without thinking, he had fled that hell taking with him that miserable version of himself. It was only much later that he realized he had forgotten to take money and had no idea what he was going to do.

At that moment, he had felt the weight of the responsibility he had just taken on. Now this child, whom he couldn't assimilate as another version of himself (and it was better for his mental health), depended on him. This time, he couldn't make a mistake. On reflection, it had been the case since he entered the wizarding world, but the hand, far too thin, gripping him as if afraid he would vanish, seemed much more concrete than the millions of lives that had depended on him in the past. Damn, he was only 15 and he was already thinking like a parent.

First of all, I need money, a safe place to spend the night, food, and a wand. Then, I will have plenty of time to think about the situation, thought Harry. So while walking, he devised a plan of action and the first step was to get to London. He didn't have a penny in his pocket to get there, but that was just a detail.

The child followed him without saying anything until the station. This attitude worried him a little. In his place, he would have had a thousand questions. How was he going to manage an abused child? How was he going to manage a child at all? Was he really the right person to take care of him? Was it really a good idea to take him with him? Once again, he postponed his questions for later. Once he was safe, once he understood what he was doing in this world and what had become of Voldemort, there would still be time to abandon him at the nearest police station.

Once at the counter, he stared at the clerk and asked while handing over a piece of paper picked up from the ground:

Two tickets to London, please?

Thanks to the little magic of the mind he had learned from Snape and Voldemort's lessons (even today, he doesn't know which of the two was more unpleasant), he was able to confuse the cashier enough for her to hand him a ticket without asking further questions.

He passed through the automatic gate to wait for the train. His double still said nothing, but seemed relieved by this stop. Harry hadn't paid attention to him, but he had apparently struggled to keep up with his pace. And he was as white as a sheet. He immediately linked it to his frightening thinness, which was noticeable despite clothes that were far too large for him. He wondered how long it had been since he had eaten and berated himself for not having thought of it sooner. He looked around and found a vending machine where you could buy disgusting vacuum-packed sandwiches and some snacks.

Are you hungry?

No, it's fine. His double replied, in a small voice, looking everywhere except in the direction of the dispenser.

After a brief hesitation, Harry Dursley declared:

Okay, but while we have time, I'll get some for when you get hungry. What do you want?

His double gave him a wary look and saliva began to speak from his mouth. With a finger, he pointed to a simple ham sandwich. Harry concentrated to make it fall from the dispenser and added a chocolate bar that he handed to the boy. To his great surprise, he realized he was exhausted and sweating profusely. He knew that wandless magic was a demanding art that many adult wizards were incapable of. But they had not been possessed by a dark lord determined to stop at nothing to increase their host's magical power. Harry Dursley was convinced that it shouldn't have exhausted him so much. Besides, he felt that using magic had required less effort with the Dursleys. He gave up thinking about this puzzle for the moment and gave this meager meal to his double. His own hunger could wait. The radiant look he received convinced him that he had made the right decision.

Finally, the train arrived, and after recovering from his shock at seeing his reflection in the window, he settled into an empty compartment of the train. Not knowing what to say to his double and especially not knowing if it was really a good idea to talk to him until he had clearer thoughts, Harry Dursley looked at the landscape, then unintentionally fell asleep. His last thought before closing his eyes was that it was strange he was so tired.

Two hours later, he was awakened by whistles and honking noises. He saw that the train had reached its terminus: London. Not knowing how long he had slept and how long the train had been there, he quickly got up, afraid that the train might leave again. So quickly that he did not notice that his double had taken advantage of his sleep to snuggle up against him.

oOoOoOo

Author's note: this Harry is heavily inspired by the one from the fanficSourire But, considerezThe archetype of all fics where Harry is severely mistreated by the Dursleys and then rescued by another character (usually Snape or Black) who helps him recover.

That said, I don't know if I would recommend you read it. Not only because it is not finished and probably never will be, but especially because at the beginning, itdescribes extreme violence against young Harry that almost made me stop reading.

Bypath

Harry Potter felt a dull rage.

Once off the train, his twin had taken him around London several times. Clearly, he was lost and looking for a specific place. At first, he found it amazing. It was the first time he was traveling, and everything fascinated him. But now he was starting to get exhausted and sweating profusely. Moreover, he had to wear that stupid hat his double had stolen from a thrift store (the saleswoman had given it to him, but he wasn't naive and knew he had used his powers on her). Every time he tried to take it off to be less hot, his double ordered him to put it back on sharply. What was he afraid of? If he were going to die of sunstroke, it would have happened long ago given the number of hours he had to spend in the sun without protection taking care of Petunia's plants. Yet, seeing him care for him warmed his heart. But he didn't need anyone to take care of him. He wasn't a baby anymore. He did what he wanted, and he had no reason to obey him. Despite everything, he kept the hat.

At the end of an interminable wandering that seemed infinitely long to him, his double stopped visibly satisfied and forcefully took him inside a seedy bar.

What!? That's what he was looking for all this time: A bar! Harry Potter thought scandalized, before worrying that despite his age, they would start drinking like Vernon. When Vernon drank, he changed completely. When he was lucky, he was almost nice and would start crying, saying he regretted it and that it was all Petunia's fault. But most of the time, he became more violent than ever. Harry hated alcohol and knew that whatever happened, he would never drink it.

Once inside, his double looked lost and timidly approached the bar, looking around him. After a moment, the owner noticed him and asked:

Well, my little one, what are you doing here? You know, this is not a place for children.

He squinted, as if he were about to cry.

I lost my mom. We came to buy school supplies for my big sister, but I lost them.

Calm down, my boy. We will find your mom. She must be on the side path. We'll walk around the alley together, and if we don't see her, I'll ask the militia to help us. What's your name?

Nott.

The bartender stepped back abruptly and gave him a nasty look.

I open the way for you and then you're on your own, dirty ... Anyway, follow me.

The bartender led them to the back room. Harry Potter followed them backwards. He didn't like the idea of being alone in the back room with a man who obviously hated them. Especially since during the exchange, he had observed the bar and its occupants and it didn't seem to be what his uncle Vernon called a reputable place. The customers were all stranger than the others. He would have even sworn that one of the customers was eating raw meat.

But his double smiled at him, so he forced himself to follow them. He hoped he knew what he was doing. The bartender took a wooden stick out of his jacket and tapped several stones, and the wall disappeared as if by magic. What he saw made him realize something that enraged him: Hundreds, if not thousands, of people also had powers and, moreover, they all seemed much more powerful than him. Not only was he nothing exceptional, but on top of that, he was still the weakest.

He grabbed his double's hand and squeezed it as tightly as possible, terrified at the thought that he might abandon him in this strange place about which he knew nothing.

oOoOoOoOo

Does Mr. Potter have his key? asked the goblin.

Harry Dursley stopped shaking his hand. Despite his thinness, this little one had a strong grip. The child was visibly frightened, but as since the beginning of this trip, he had remained silent. Harry Dursley did not know how to interpret this behavior so different from his own. Even if he had tried to hide it from the Dursleys, he had been amazed by his first visit to Diagon Alley. That he was afraid when entering Gringotts and seeing the goblins, that he could understand, but what had scared him so much throughout their crossing of Diagon Alley? And why wasn't he saying anything to him? In his place, he would have had a thousand questions. Until now, he hadn't reacted to his silence, because deep down it suited him well, but now he wondered if his double wasn't more damaged than he thought.

But once again, he chased away his intrusive thoughts and focused on their current priority: getting money.

I'm sorry, but we lost it. What is the procedure to make a new one? Explained Harry Dursley.

It will be extremely long and painful. And know that if we discover you have attempted to impersonate one of our clients, we will be merciless. No one has ever managed to deceive the goblins and lived long enough to boast about it. Are you sure you want to embark on this path, young people?

"We are not thieves!" he exclaimed without thinking, before remembering his actions that morning and realizing he was a very bad example for the kid. Then he added:

What do you mean by long and painful?

Sorry, but I am not authorized to give you more information about our identity verification processes. Replied the goblin with disdain.

Harry Dursley thought, but no matter which way he looked at the problem, he concluded that he absolutely needed money. The only alternative would be to go directly to Hogwarts to ask Dumbledore for help, but he found this solution too risky. How could he be sure that Dumbledore would believe his bizarre story? He himself wasn't sure he believed it. There was a great risk that he would be seen as a dark wizard who had just kidnapped the chosen one (seriously injuring his Muggle guardians in the process). But it might be a better solution for his counterpart. Upon learning how the Dursleys had treated him, Harry Dursley had no doubt that Dumbledore would do everything possible to find him a loving family and offer him the psychological care he seemed to need. Finally, Harry Dursley declared to the goblin:

Okay, I will take your tests. What do I need to do?

This response seemed to surprise the goblin who stood up and leaned towards him with a threatening look.

Are you aware, young man, that this is not a game? Declared the goblin, explicitly showing his teeth.

Of course. Harry Dursley affirmed without a shadow of hesitation.

Very well. Follow me.

The goblin led them to a small room resembling an infirmary where, after about twenty minutes of waiting, a goblin came to take a blood sample. Then another arrived with a strange silver object and asked him to cast a spell on it. He almost fainted casting a Wingardium Leviosa without a wand, which failed to lift the object even a millimeter. Nevertheless, the goblin seemed satisfied (he would have even sworn that the goblin was impressed, but it was very hard to judge the emotions of goblins). During all this time, his double remained silent in a corner.

Finally, they were moved to a waiting room devoid of any decoration where they had to wait two hours before a goblin brought them a golden key that was still warm.

Your identity has been certified, Mr. Potter. We have deactivated your old key. If a miscreant attempted to present themselves at the Gringotts counter thinking to deceive our security systems, they would be immediately detained for questioning.

oOoOoOo

Wow! exclaimed little Harry upon seeing the mountain of gold spread out before him.

That's all. Is there some missing here? Where is the rest? exclaimed his double. Little Harry did not hide his disbelief at this reaction.

Are you insinuating that we would embezzle our clients' money, young man? replied the Goblin in a dangerous voice.

No, it’s ... ? Pardon me, but in my memories, there were many more and I don't remember making any withdrawals. Explained his double in a hesitant voice.

The goblin calmed down and explained to him:

Indeed, this is the first time we have the honor of receiving your visit, dear client. However, in your absence, your guardian has regularly come to withdraw significant amounts to cover your educational expenses.

Little Harry had a hard time holding back from screaming. All this time, Vernon had been stealing from him. How had he dared to claim that he was a burden to his family?

My guardian! It's impossible. The Dursleys would never have come to Gringotts, exclaimed his double.

Who are the Dursleys? Asked the Goblin.

Well, my parents, or rather my guardians. Explained his double.

I don't know any witch family by that name.

They are muggles.

Ah, I understand. Be aware that under wizarding law, Muggles have no legal existence and cannot be the guardian of a wizard. Since your godfather's imprisonment, legally Albus Dumbledore is your only recognized guardian. As well as that of many other war orphans. Of course, we are aware that he only holds this position in a mannerSymbolic. Nevertheless, to our great annoyance, we cannot oppose his requests for withdrawals from his wards' accounts. If you believe you have been wronged, then our legal service is at your disposal. Explained the goblin.

For a fee, of course. His double replied with visible sarcasm.

His double thought for a few seconds before adding:

Thank you for your proposal, but although I acknowledge the extraordinary quality of your services, I doubt they are up to the task against Albus Dumbledore. I will not take the risk of further emptying my vault for such a risky venture. Could you just prevent him from having further access?

Normally, I should refer you to our legal department, but I feel I must inform you that despite your status as the sole heir of the Potter family, in the absence of a proper trial, this is unlikely. Like many wealthy light families, to support the war effort, before dying, your father signed a power of attorney to Albus Dumbledore on the Potter family account. Despite common sense, after the war, all our attempts to revoke those concerning the accounts of families decimated by the war were all rejected by the Wizengamot.

The Wizengamot of which Dumbledore is the president, his double commented cynically.

Gringotts cannot make such subversive remarks without risking being condemned for defamation by the Wizengamot. Replied the goblin with a bow.

Harry Dursley then addressed his double:

As soon as we can, we will come back to empty everything. In the meantime, take everything you can.

Little Harry hastened to obey him. After what he had just heard, he was beside himself and needed to do something. He was angry at that Dumbledore who had dared to strip him, at the Dursleys who had obviously lied to him about the causes of his parents' death.

But above all, he was angry with his so-called twin. Although he seemed to want to defend his interests, little Harry had noted that according to the vile creature, the Potters had only one heir. And it could only be him. Whoever his mysterious guide was, he was obviously a thief who had used his powers to adopt his appearance. He was beginning to see things more clearly. He hadn't come for him (as if anyone could really be interested in him), but because for some reason or another, he needed his presence to trick the identity tests of those proud creatures. What better way to access the contents of a vault than to be accompanied by its rightful owner? If he had been nice to him, it was only to gain his trust. But he had never been fooled, Harry lied to himself.

In a very visible manner, little Harry emptied his backpack of schoolbooks and filled it with gold coins. To make room, he hesitated to also get rid of the toys he had stolen from Dudley, but he couldn't bring himself to throw away his precious trophies from the rare times he had managed to get the better of those bastards. Unlike his books, he couldn't buy them back.

Discreetly, he put a few galleons in his pocket. For once, he was happy that his clothes were too big for him. Throughout the operation, Harry Potter watched the thief examine the furniture at the bottom of the chest, staying alert for any foul play on his part. All of a sudden, the thief seemed to experience a sharp surprise and rushed to a rod from which he detached a cloak that he examined thoroughly. Then, without warning, he rushed towards him. He stood up abruptly, hoping he hadn't seen him trying to steal HIS gold.

But the thief simply handed him the cloak, whispering so that the goblin could not hear them:

Take care of this. It's an invisibility cloak. It's an extremely rare and precious object that belonged to my father. Well, your father. It has been passed down in the Potter family for generations and now, it is yours. Keep it with you at all times. At the slightest sign of danger, put it on and hide in a corner without asking questions. Also take the key to the chest in case we get separated.

Initially skeptical, little Harry was astonished to see his hand disappear when he covered it with the thin fabric. He no longer knew what to think of the stranger.

The night

Harry Dursley looked at the dingy little room in a seedy hotel on Knockturn Alley that he had rented. It wasn't great, but as long as he paid in advance, the hotel owner wouldn't ask questions about his age or identity. Then he raised his wand and began chanting the few protection spells he had learned during his far too short years at Hogwarts. He also tried to recite some of Voldemort's spells but gave up after the fifth attempt. Even though Voldemort had used his body to cast them, his spells were far too complex for him to simply reproduce by having observed the dark wizard cast them a dozen times. Especially since at the time, he was barely conscious.

Moreover, for the first time since his resurrection, the strangeness of having memories of moments he had not lived struck him with full force. Memories where he took pleasure in torturing strangers. Memories where he saw himself killing the parents of those with whom he had spent almost two years at Hogwarts. He almost fainted.

Harry felt weaker and weaker. Probably because he hadn't eaten all day and had overused wandless magic.

Fortunately, he had now recovered his good old wand made of holly and phoenix feather. It hadn't been easy. Ollivanders had initially categorically refused to sell a wand to a minor not accompanied by an adult. Especially to a minor who didn't seem to be of the legal minimum age. He had to go out and ask his double to lend him his invisibility cloak. To his great confusion, his double seemed to hesitate. But he finally handed him the precious relic, which he covered himself with and then waited until a customer entered.

Fortunately, he did not have to wait long. During this period, many parents were making their way down Diagon Alley to buy school supplies for their children. Still covered by the cloak, he slipped in behind the first customer who entered, and while Ollivander was distracted by the latter, he snuck to the far corner of the back room from where he remembered Ollivander had drawn the only wand in the shop that suited him. Even though he knew it was impossible, as soon as he held the wand in his hand, it seemed to him that his wand had recognized him. As he left, he took the risk of slipping 20 galleons onto the counter as payment for the wand.

Now that he had money, he no longer had any justification to continue stealing. Of course, it wasn't really his money, but in any case, he intended to bequeath his wand to his double when he left this world, so he wasn't really taking advantage of him.

He had nothing to do with the Dumbledore of this world. Thinking about him made him uncomfortable, but now that he was in relative safety, he could no longer postpone his questions. Even if he didn't have a precise plan, he had always implicitly counted on asking Dumbledore for help. However, after what he had learned, he could no longer trust him. It might well be that this version of Dumbledore was as bad as the Dursleys of this world.

It was worrying, but at the same time a relief. The Dumbledore of his world would never have stooped to stealing children under his care. And besides, he hadn't done so in his world. In his eyes, this proved that the inhabitants of this world had nothing to do with his loved ones. His parents had nothing in common with these despicable beings capable of being as cruel as Death Eaters. Despite all their flaws (and their well-understood hatred of magic), his parents sincerely loved him and would never have subjected him to that. In his early childhood, his mother had apparently mistreated him, but that was just because she had difficulty coping with all the upheavals that had occurred in her life (such as the murder of almost her entire family in less than a year). Once she had time to recover, she loved him and soon forgot everything. Harry Dursley repeated this to himself several times in his head to be completely convinced.

Then he told his double that the room was safe and that he could take off his invisibility cloak. Harry Dursley had ordered him to wear it as soon as he realized that the only place where he could hope to find a hotel that would agree to rent them a room without asking questions would inevitably be in Knockturn Alley. Harry Dursley suspected that wearing the cloak for an extended period on this hot summer day would be very uncomfortable, but his first and only visit to the alley had convinced him that it was a necessity. In fact, he would have liked to hide there himself. This sinister place reminded him of very bad memories. He still had trouble believing that all this was real, but it didn't make the situation any less disturbing.

He watched his double sit silently on the bed and test the springs with visible satisfaction. It wasn't luxurious, but Harry Dursley had no trouble imagining that it was much more comfortable than his former cupboard, and although grim, the place was clean. He transformed some decorative trinkets into a table and a chair. McGonagall certainly wouldn't have been pleased with the rather approximate result, but nevertheless, he emptied the food he had bought on Diagon Alley onto it.

His initial plan was to gorge himself on sweets and greasy junk food to recover from this exhausting day and take advantage of the absence of adults to him.Say to eat balanced. However, his double had chosen this moment to take his first initiative by slipping some slightly healthier products into his bag with authority. But he wasn't going to let this sad guy ruin his evening. Whether dark-Harry (that's how he ended up nicknaming the kid in his head, since this world seemed populated with evil doubles and a version of himself quite demonic enough to like vegetables) liked it or not, tonight he was going to force-feed him chocolate and he wouldn't stop until he saw a smile. He would have plenty of time to think of a plan or wonder if he would ever see his parents again, once he had enjoyed a good night's sleep. For one night, he wanted to pretend everything was fine. As if everything was like before. For the moment, he was alive and he intended to enjoy it.

oOoOoOoOo

This evening had not gone as Harry Dursley had planned. Despite all his attempts, Dark-Harry had remained tense and suspicious. The only moment he had shown a hint of emotion was when he almost set the room on fire while trying to warm up the popcorn he had bought with his wand.

But this unfortunate attempt had given an idea to Dark-Harry, who had asked him if he could try again in a more controlled manner. He had then been able to realize that he was extremely talented at cooking. In this small room devoid of any equipment, he had managed to cook for them (with what Dark-Harry had forced him to buy) a dish that Harry Dursley found worthy of a restaurant.

Hmm! How good it is. Said Harry Dursley for the umpteenth time (he said it with every bite)

Thank you. Dark–Harry replied timidly, awkwardly stirring his fork in the large portion that Harry Dursley had served him. Despite his alarming thinness, the child had eaten almost nothing. Harry Dursley took it upon himself to ensure that he ate properly:

Go ahead, eat.

I am not hungry.

Well, force yourself. You're as thin as a rail. I don't know what's bothering you, but you need to eat. And besides, you shouldn't waste something so delicious.

Little Dark–Harry resigned himself to swallowing everything on his plate with distressing slowness. Harry Dursley thought that, after all, he wasn't such a bad tutor. To lighten the mood, he set about telling him some wizard jokes he got from Zabini (thinking of his friend gave him a pang in his heart). He was convinced the evening was going well and that he would reach his goal without even having to dig into his chocolate frog reserve, until little Dark–Harry suddenly dropped his plate and rushed to the bathroom to violently vomit what he had just swallowed.

Harry Dursley rushed to his bedside, but upon seeing him arrive, Dark-Harry recoiled violently, causing some of the vomit to spill onto his clothes. Seeing this, Dark-Harry became even more terrified and retreated into a corner of the small bathroom.

Everything's fine, I'm not going to hurt you. Said Harry Dursley in a reassuring voice. Then he knelt on the ground to be at eye level and appear less threatening. To prove that it wasn't serious (and to make the smell disappear), he took out his magic wand and made the problem disappear from his clothes.

Is it better like this? Are you hurt anywhere? Do you have a fever? Harry asked, slowly bringing his hand to her forehead so as not to frighten her.

No. I just ate too much. He replied in a small voice.

Harry Dursley's face fell.

You could have told me you weren't hungry anymore. Why did you force yourself like that? Harry Dursley scolded, with all the bad faith of a teenager. No, but it's true, thought Harry. How could he guess he had a bird's appetite? Or that he would force himself to eat to the point of making himself sick. His double didn't respond and simply observed one of the bathroom walls, curling up more in the corner next to the toilet (Harry Dursley really wanted him to move away, as he doubted the hotel owner cleaned regularly).

He took a towel near the sink, let hot water run, and began to gently clean Dark-Harry's face. After a moment, he said to him:

Listen, I'm sorry. I didn't know. Next time, I'll let you eat as you want. As long as you're satisfied, that's what matters.

The boy let it happen then Harry Dursley ran a hand through his hair.

There you go, you're all clean.

Why are you doing this? asked the young Dark-Harry, staring at him intently.

Uh... well... I don't know. It would have been faster with magic, but...

No, why are you doing all this? Seeing the questioning look on Harry Dursley's face, he added:

Why are you taking care of me? You have your gold now, you can leave.

The gold? What are you talking about? When I saw you at the Dursleys, I just didn't think and took you with me, and now I'm trying to do my best. That's all. Harry Dursley replied, even more confused than before.

I don't want your pity. Go away and leave me alone. I don't need anyone.

We all need others. Even the powerful Albus Dumbledore. Honestly, do you really think I could survive on my own? If you hadn't been there, I would have starved to death. Or I would have set the place on fire trying to roast marshmallows. Hmm, roasted marshmallows. Added Harry Dursley, overacting his greed. Then he continued:

Wouldn't you like to get out of there and grill me a pack? If you're good, I might let you eat one or two. Well, if you want to eat some, you can. It's not an obligation, it's just if you feel like it. Harry Dursley attempted awkwardly to explain, not really knowing how to express himself so that the child wouldn't misunderstand him.

In response, Dark-Harry slowly crawled out of his hiding place on all fours. Harry Dursley forced himself to remain as still as possible, but with each movement, Dark-Harry cast him a small, fearful glance. Finally, once he was completely out and realized that Harry Dursley wasn't taking advantage of the situation to attack him, he felt reassured.

Harry Dursley got up in turn and ran a hand through his hair, and after forcing him to wash his hands, led him to the living room where, as promised, they gorged on toasted marshmallows. Well, mainly Harry Dursley, but Dark-Harry seemed to enjoy the evening and the sweets a lot (even though, as usual, he remained silent).

Then Harry Dursley declared that it was time to go to bed and began to put on his pajamas (he had taken care to buy wizard clothes in their sizes during the afternoon). Accustomed to life in the Hogwarts dormitories, Harry Dursley did not hesitate before starting to strip down to his underwear in front of his double, but the latter felt visibly uncomfortable and timidly asked:

Can I go change in the bathroom?

Yes, of course. Harry Dursley replied with an indifferent shrug.

Then when the child modestly closed the door to the other room behind him, Harry Dursley noted that it was the first time the kid had asked him for something.

Harry Dursley fell asleep in one of the two small beds in the room with a smile, thinking that the child was finally starting to trust him a little. Taking care of a child wasn't that complicated after all. You just needed to always have a few excuses and a box of marshmallows ready for the next time you messed up.

oOoOoOoOo

The woman refused to obey and began to plead with him to spare her son. His face filled with hatred and anger, he raised his wand and cast a Cruciatus Curse, which he maintained until she died of a heart attack or a brain aneurysm. This death was longer, but from now on, he was ready to take it to make all the Lily Potters of the world understand what it cost to oppose him. Then he advanced towards the 20-year-old young man who had refused to enter his service. The terror and pain he saw in his eyes bored him. Anyway, he had already wasted too much time with this unbearable matron. With a careless gesture, Harry Dursley cast the deadly spell, then he woke up with a start, gasping.

He was not in a city ravaged by flames, but in the hotel room on Diagon Alley. Harry Dursley touched his panicked body to confirm that he was still in control, then finally calmed down. This nightmare had been so realistic. He could still hear his victims softly murmuring their pleas in his head. And being covered in sweat did not help him forget the demonic furnace he had just crossed again. Silently, so as not to wake his double, he got up and went to wipe himself with one of the bathroom towels. It calmed him. But he could still hear the pleas. Dark-Harry, he shouted in thought when he realized that the pleading murmurs were real.

He ran more than he walked in the living room, wand in hand (he hadn't decided to part with his wand even to go to sleep). He then noticed that everything was calm. Except that Dark-Harry was writhing in pain in his sleep and softly begging an invisible assailant to spare him. A quick diagnostic spell (the only one he knew) told him that the child was fine. At least physically.

For a moment, Harry Dursley thought it would be very easy to go back to bed and pretend not to have noticed anything. After all, if they were at least somewhat alike, Dark-Harry wouldn't appreciate his intervention. Then he slowly approached his double's bed and gently shook his shoulder with his hand. Immediately, Dark Harry opened his eyes, moved away from him as much as the narrow width of his bed allowed, and looked at him with the panicked eyes of a rabbit caught in the headlights of a car.

Hush! Everything is fine. You had a nightmare. Harry Durlsey declared as gently as possible, raising his hands.

Sorry, I won't do it anymore...

Everything is fine. I'm not angry. And you didn't wake me up. I also have restless sleep. Said Harry Dursley, sitting on the bed and opening his arms for him to take refuge there.

Dark Harry relaxed but did not understand the explicit invitation being made to him, so Harry Dursley stepped forward and hugged him, whispering soothing words. For a few dozen seconds (where Harry Dursley felt very silly), Dark Harry remained extremely tense. Even though he did not push him away or try to escape as he had feared, he remained still and upright. Then he hesitantly returned the embrace, as if he did not know how to do it.

Feeling better?

Yes. He said softly.

Do you want to tell me about your nightmare?

He shook his head, giving him a frightened look.

Alright. I'm not going to force you. Harry Dursley immediately reassured him.

After a few minutes of staying glued to each other, Harry Dursley broke the embrace and got up with a yawn.

Come on, it's time to sleep now. Then, suddenly inspired by thoughts of his adoptive mother, he suggested:

Do you want to sleep with me?

He shook his head. Harry Dursley showed nothing, but he preferred it that way. Since he had been possessed, he valued his personal space. He motioned to his double to lie down again and when he complied, he tried to tuck him in as his adoptive mother had often done for him and lay down again himself. As he was about to fall asleep again, a question pierced the darkness:

What are you going to do with me?

An excellent question, he thought. But one to which he was not sure he had the answer himself. What was needed was to find him adoptive parents. And probably a good therapy (it wouldn't be a luxury for him either). But who could he trust enough in this corrupt world to entrust Dark-harry to them? Not to mention there was still the problem of Voldemort and the Horcruxes. In this moment of confusion, which separates the state of wakefulness and sleep, he replied in a semi-conscious state:

Whatever happens, you stay with me.

oOoOoOoOo

Author's note: Please know that I authorize parents to come strangle me in my sleep for having written that it is easy to raise a child.

In truth, we all know that children are the devil's spawn sent to earth to punish us for having fornicated so much (and to prevent us from doing it again). But we have to lie a little to the children about what they put us through if we want them to believe us when we say we love them. And then when they grow up, they'll fall into the trap in turn, and we can have a good laugh watching them struggle with their cute little monsters.

Attack on Knockturn Alley

The next day, Harry Dursley was awakened by screams coming from the room across the hall. At first thinking someone was being attacked, he quickly got up, pulling out his wand, then blushed as he realized they were definitely not cries of pain. He finished waking up by rubbing his back.(Obviously, the mattresses in this hotel were not made for sleeping on). With a glance, he saw Dark Harry sitting on his own bed, staring at him silently for a while judging by his bored look and the fact that he was fully dressed and ready to go. Apparently, he hadn't found the mattress too uncomfortable.

Harry Dursley cast a Tempus and saw that it was already 11:00. And yet, he was almost as tired as the day before. He really had a problem. Maybe the backlash from his possession. Maybe it was like coming out of a long coma and he needed some readjustment time. He prayed that it was only that, but something deep inside him doubted it.

To regain some energy, he opened a chocolate bar and greedily bit into a piece.

Do you want some? He offered to Dark-Harry.

Dark-Harry nodded. Harry Dursley continued to eat the bar more delicately and added for the attention of his double:

Did you eat something, at least?

He nodded in agreement while the woman in the next room let out a piercing scream that pierced his eardrums.

Exasperated, he dropped his chocolate bar and began to gather his things.

Let's go away.

Where are we going?

Harry Dursley took this simple question like a blow to the stomach, but called upon occlumency to show nothing of his trouble and simply replied:

Anywhere but here. Harry replied. In a quiet place where I could hear myself think, he added after yet another moan of pleasure that this time came from the other room across from theirs.

Once he had made sure that Dark-Harry was well covered by the invisibility cloak and that his face could not be seen under the wide hat he was wearing, he opened the door and went out. In a rather childish act of revenge, before leaving, he took out his wand and began to cast a spell that George Weasley had used against him when he thought he wanted to harm his sister (which was true, but not in the way he thought). However, he stopped abruptly when a blade was pressed against his throat.

Not moved. Murmured a thin voice.

Without even thinking about it, he let out a wave of magic corrupted by the dark lord, which, with a terrible noise, repelled his attacker and destroyed a good part of the floor. The sounds of pleasure disappeared, and a deathly silence filled the room now filled with debris and dust. He then looked around for another attacker and for a sign of life from Dark-Harry (he feared he had inadvertently harmed his protégé). But he was reassured when he felt an invisible hand squeeze his own until it hurt.

Stubborn!

He turned around and saw a half-naked woman coming out of what was left of his irritating neighbors' apartment. She rushed towards what looked like a miniature version of his friend Theodore Nott. The child couldn't have been more than 5 years old and at his feet lay a knife that proved beyond a doubt that he was the attacker.

Harry Dursley let out a sigh and said to his double:

Wait for me there.

Then under the gaze of a naked man and woman who emerged dazed from their room, he joined the woman, who was struggling to stop the blood fromflow from her son's head while shouting with all her might to call a healer.

Move aside, I will treat him.

Without waiting for his response, he placed his wand on his wound and began to chant his healing routine. Immediately, the wound closed.

But instead of the recognition he expected, he saw terror in his mother's eyes. Reflecting on what could frighten her so much, he finally said:

Yes, well, I know what it must look like, but he was the one who attacked me first with his knife. I just acted on reflex. I don't want to harm him, I swear.

The boy then opened his eyes and upon seeing him grabbed his knife and pointed it at him again. Harry Dursley, who had experienced much worse, did not flinch and simply said:

There you see

Teignous, drop that knife. She ordered her son while giving him a sharp slap on the hand. Then she knelt down and said in his direction:

My lord, please forgive my son, I beg you, I don't know what got into him. He shouldn't even be here. And you, apologize.

Reluctantly, the little boy knelt beside his mother, but instead of pleading, he merely gave her a dark look.

Hey! I'm not a lord. Exclaimed Harry Dursley.

But under his astonished gaze, all the occupants of the floor knelt down, trembling with fear.

Yes, if that is your wish, we will not reveal your presence in this place, my lord, we swear it to you. But spare our lives, I beg you. Continued the woman.

Stand up, he asked awkwardly. And get the hell out of here, he ordered angrily to the spectators who hurried to obey.

The woman got up cautiously, but her son did not need to be asked twice. Apparently, he did not appreciate having to kneel before his attacker and savior at all.

He already has the gentle character of the Notts. Harry Dursley commented aloud, thinking nostalgically of his friend with a difficult childhood. Apparently, in this reality, his mother had decided to cheat on her husband rather than commit suicide. Or maybe she had divorced, he thought, seeing the apparent poverty of the mother and the thinness of the child.

In any case, his remark made the woman panic even more. The child then took his knife again and said in a high-pitched voice:

Don't touch mom.

With a careless wave of his hand, Harry Dursley turned the irritating knife into a bouquet of flowers, which he grabbed.

For me, thank you, it was not necessary. Since you asked so nicely, I accept your apologies. Now tell me, why did you call me lord? And why did he attack me? he asked the woman.

Forgive me, I should not have...

Stop, I won't do anything to you. Just answer my question.

Liar. He wanted to use magic to hurt mom, like Joe. Stammered the kid.

Who is Joe? Harry Dursley couldn't help but ask.

Shut up, little fool. Joe is my former pimp, my lord.

Harry did not understand what a computer was doing here, but he did not ask for further explanations. He was starting to get tired of the place and heard that downstairs a crowd of onlookers was beginning to gather.

Well listen, I have nothing to do with your stories. I'm no good at computers and anyway, I prefer Windows. Reparo!

Immediately, the pieces of the floor began to rearrange themselves. He then shouted at the woman and her son:

Don't tell anyone you saw me here. Harry Dursley ordered sharply.

Then he disappeared under the invisibility cloak of his double. The latter welcomed him with a look of admiration to which he paid no attention. They were so small that they easily fit under two, but he had to concentrate to slip through without being noticed in the repaired stairs where wizards in dawn robes began to gather. Once outside, he mingled with the passersby and listened to the whispers.

How many glasses did you drink this morning?

I swear to you, he cast so many Doloris on me that I would recognize his magical signature among a thousand.

Who are you going to make believe that you're still sober after 10:00, dear Jeannot?

I'm sure it was Parseltongue.

We must leave the country.

Germaine quickly opens the shop, we are going to make a fortune

disguised as a child.

He looked like Potter, don't you think?

That bastard Dumbledore will soon get what he deserves.

You will see what we will do to you mudbloods when he gives us back the power, shouted a foul-smelling beggar right next to him.

Disgusted, he fled. Apparently, Voldemort's care routine wasn't in Latin. He left as quickly as possible towards Diagon Alley. He still didn't know where he was going, but he knew there was no way he was spending another night in Knockturn Alley.

Attack on Diagon Alley

Once he arrived at Diagon Alley, he sat down on a bench and finally took a few minutes to catch his breath and think about the next steps. Next to him, he saw his double remove his invisibility cloak. His first instinct was to order him to put it back on, but the scorching sun dissuaded him. It was hot under the invisibility cloak and there wasn't much risk in Diagon Alley. Nevertheless, with a wave of his wand, he took his hat out of his bag and jammed it onto his head, taking great care to hide his scar.

Dark-Harry reacted to his attention with an angry look that Harry found totally adorable. He knew that the boy hated having his head wrapped with anything (partly because he himself had never been a big fan of it). However, the memory of his first day on Diagon Alley more than 3 years ago was too vivid in his mind for him to give in. And anyway, his double didn't try to protest. That, on the other hand, was very different from himself. At his age, he would have raged for hours until Petunia gave up. No doubt he hadStill afraid of him. After all, in his eyes, even if he had saved him from the Dursleys, he must only be a strange boy who looked like him and acted with him like an older brother even though they were the same age. Finally saved from the Dursleys. It was one of the many things he needed to think about quietly. He looked for a way to keep Dark-Harry occupied so he could have a moment of peace, when he saw a few meters away a playground probably intended to occupy children while their parents did their shopping on Diagon Alley.

Harry Dursley pointed at him with his finger and said:

Go play with the others. I'll stay here to watch you. Don't tell anyone your name. Lie if someone asks you.

Dark-Harry gave him an inscrutable look, then began to walk away slowly without any particular enthusiasm. Seeing him try to get rid of his hat, Harry Dursley added, trying to imitate the half-severe tone that Petunia used in such circumstances:

And above all, keep that damn hat screwed on your head or I'll cast a permanent glue spell on it.

Immediately, Dark-Harry pushed it back onto his head. Afterwards, Harry Dursley thought that the kid might think his threat was serious. But he didn't care. He had other concerns in mind, like whom to entrust him to ensure he was well treated and not sent back to the Dursleys. Normally, he would have simply gone to see Dumbledore and explained everything to him. There was no doubt that his Dumbledore would have moved heaven and earth to find him a suitable place. But the Dumbledore of this world seemed quite different. Could he really trust him? More seriously, could he afford not to trust him?

The fact was that the Dursleys were not his only problem. And even less so for Dark-Harry. There was also Voldemort. He didn't know what had become of his Voldemort, but it seemed most likely to him that he had fallen with him into the portal and was here somewhere with the three relics. If he was right, then it wouldn't be long before he plunged this world into chaos, as he had done with his own. He couldn't take the risk, he had to warn Dumbledore of the danger. In fact, he should have started with that.

Mechanically, he glanced at Dark-harry. To his great surprise, he wasn't playing with the others but had withdrawn to a corner of the park. Maybe he was too old for that. He couldn't remember at what age he had stopped playing at the Little Whinging park. Instead, Dark-harry frequently turned in his direction as if to make sure he hadn't left.

At one point, a child who seemed to be around 8 years old approached him (probably to ask him to play with him). Harry Dursley watched them interact with interest, but after a few minutes, the unknown child left, sticking out his tongue and making a very rude gesture. Harry had to restrain himself from going to scold the little wizard. He doubted that his always so polite and shy counterpart had done anything to deserve such treatment. However, he had to avoid drawing attention to himself at all costs, so he forced himself to stay calm.

But this interlude had not been useless, because it made her think of the invisibility cloak in Dark-Harry's pocket. Its presence meant that a duplicate of the Deathly Hallows was in this world. Perhaps instead of contacting Dumbledore, he could gather the three Hallows and thus fight Voldemort on equal footing and solve the problem himself (without putting anyone in danger, including his double). The concern is that unlikeVoldemort, he knew nothing of their powers or how to use them. No matter how much he racked his brains, every time he thought he had a plan, he came to the same conclusion: he lacked the information to make a decision. He absolutely needed more information, about Dumbledore, about the relics, about this world... Now, he knew where he had to go.

Hey, Harry's coming, let's go. He called, waving his hand.

The boy hurried to join him with obvious relief. Harry Dursley did not notice his satisfied smile, nor even less that at the moment he was leaving, the boy with whom Dark-Harry had argued fell very unnaturally from the slide and broke a leg.

oOoOoOoOo

Dark-Harry wandered in amazement through the aisles of the gigantic Fleury and Bott bookstore. For as long as he could remember, books had been his only friends. Well, when he managed to get his hands on them. At first, he borrowed them from the library, but since Dudley and his gang regularly amused themselves by tearing or throwing his things into the mud (accusing him of doing it himself and of course everyone believed them), he was quickly banned from borrowing.

He therefore had to be content with consulting them on site when the Dursleys gave him free time or discreetly stealing them. After all, it wasn't really stealing since, due to lack of space in his cupboard, he had to return them to the library once he had finished reading them.

Even that, that fat pig Duldey had tried to take from him. He couldn't wait to better master his powers and then he would see.

It was then that two extremely rowdy kids pulled him out of his thoughts by bumping into him. They quickly muttered a 'sorry' before resuming their run and disappearing towards the exit. Dark-Harry barely had time to recover from the shock and note the redness of their hair when he saw a woman with similar hair pass in front of him, looking around with a worried expression.

He thought about reporting them just to annoy them, but instead grumbled as he walked away. He couldn't stand the commotion and sudden noises that always made him jump in fear (for that, too, he had to thank the Dursleys). Even less so when it came from spoiled children by their parents who didn't even know their luck. How he hated all those whining brats who constantly complained about their father, their mother, the toys they weren't bought, the meat they were forced to swallow. And as luck would have it, the bookstore was full of them.

But now he too had someone. And not just anyone, he thought as he watched the mysterious sorcerer who had taken his appearance and was calmly leafing through history books a few shelves away. He is much stronger than those nobodies. He had heard what people said in that sordid alley. He had seen how he had repelled his attacker and almost destroyed a building with a simple gesture while he himself was terrified. He had seen them kneel before him when they recognized him.

He was an exceptional being, and he wanted him, thought Dark-Harry as he felt a warmth he had forbidden himself to feel again engulf him. If he asked him, maybe he would teach him. Maybe he would give him a magic wand. Anyway, even if he didn't want it, he would learn.

Then someone burst through the bookstore door with a panicked face and shouted, casting wild glances all around him:

The Dark Lord! We saw her in Knockturn Alley.

"Yes well, we knew that," thought Dark-Harry with a smile. Then a sound of an explosion followed by a violent jolt made him and a good portion of the books fall to the floor.

"In fact, no, I don't know much," he thought.

But he did not have time to further his reflections as he had to roll into a corner to avoid being trampled by a panicked crowd of families jostling to reach the exit with their children. He thought ironically of the words his double had spoken upon arriving and seeing the date on a newspaper (of which Dark-Harry had been shocked to see the moving pictures on the cover):

I didn't know we were so close to the start, but it's rather good news. With all these people, we'll go unnoticed.

oOoOoOoOo

Dark-Harry was terrified. Thick smoke from a gigantic fire was obstructing his vision, and everywhere, people were screaming and jostling. At first, he hadn't been afraid. From the start of the panic in the bookstore, his double had rushed at him with wand in hand, using his magic to make his way through the panicking crowd.

He had quickly caught up with him and authoritatively held him close, asking if he was alright. Unlike the previous night, he almost immediately accepted the embrace (by reflex, when touched, he always had a recoil and a shiver of fear). Usually, he hated any intimate contact. Each time, he couldn't help but panic and think back to what Uncle Vernon did to him after some of his arguments with Petunia. But with him, it was different.

Last night, he had to make a huge effort not to run away when his double had the sudden urge to grope him in the middle of the night. He really didn't want it to happen again, but he didn't want to risk upsetting the only person who seemed to care about him. Then the minutes passed, and he understood that all he wanted was to comfort him. No one had ever made the effort to comfort him after a nightmare.

Once he had reassured his double with a quick nod about his condition, he covered him with the invisibility cloak and pulled him by the hand outside. That too was new for him. No one had ever taken him by the hand to make sure not to lose him (the very idea of Petunia panicking at the thought of his absence seemed laughable to him). For the first time in his life, he felt safe.

Thus, he was not afraid. Even when the sounds of explosions echoed in the distance and the first flames became visible behind the lowest buildings. When, despite common sense, his double led him against the crowd towards the source of the attack, he merely held his hand as tightly as possible. When the first sounds of combat and cries of pain became recognizable above the crowd's screams, he began to repeat to himself that his double must know what he was doing. That he had a plan to get them out of there. He was just smarter and more powerful than those cockroaches running like headless chickens and he had to be strong and especially not get in his way by starting to cry. Contrary to what the Dursleys claimed, he was not a whiner incapable of any gratitude. When he saw a first lifeless body along the cobblestone street, that’s when he began to be afraid.

However, his double continued his run in an inflexible manner and even increased his speed, now that he was no longer slowed by the crowd fleeing in the opposite direction. Then Dark-Harry hid his fear and tried to keep up with the frantic pace thatImposed on him... His what, by the way? He didn't really know what he was to his double. In fact, he was nothing to him. He didn't even know what he looked like without his disguise (probably a very powerful and very old wizard with a long white beard, thought Dark-Harry). What had gotten into him? His double had said it himself: he hadn't thought it through when he took him with him. When he did, his double would realize he was just a source of trouble and would abandon him. He would then be alone in this horrible place. Despite his good resolutions, he started to cry. And his tears doubled when he realized that this was surely the last straw that would convince his double that he didn't deserve to be with him.

oOoOoOoOo

Harry Dursley looked around, all his senses on alert, trying to ignore the increasingly numerous corpses that dotted his path, focusing his attention so as not to stumble on the loose cobblestones of the alley.

Under normal circumstances, he would never have rushed headlong into danger. But even if he had tried to deny it, since he had received his letter from Hogwarts, normal times were over. Too many people had died because of him and his cowardice. He would not let Voldemort continue to kill innocents because of him. This time, he would embrace his destiny and face him.

Despite his good resolutions, each step was more difficult than the last. The closer he got to the source of all this chaos, the more his fear amplified. Only the reminiscence of memories of massacres that he knew were not his, but which imprinted on his retina, prevented him. After a while that he could not identify, his memories became confused.Iranin line with reality and he forgot that he was no longer a powerless puppet reduced tohaving to contemplatethe horrors for which he was responsible.

Until, passing through yet another veil of smoke while running, a purple spell almost hit him. He immediately reconnected with reality and observedathree wizards in the uniform of the magic brigade fighting another massive wizard in a Death Eater robe. He approached, then determined to assist the ministry wizards clearly in trouble, but before he could cast any spell one of the brigadiers got between him and the Death Eater and pushed him violently:

Don't stay here. Get out. We won't hold them back for very long.

At first stunned by this behavior, Harry Dursley then remembered that he had the appearance of a 9-year-old boy. If he stayed here, he would only hinder them by forcing them to put themselves in danger to protect him. It was then that he thought of using the invisibility cloak and realized he had a big problem. The strong pressure on his hand had disappeared. His heart fell violently in his chest. He had lost Dark-Harry.

oOoOoOoOo

Dark-Harry didn't really know what had happened. Between the smoke, his tears, the fires, and the screams, everything became blurry in his mind. At one point, he fell to the ground, stumbling over the corpse of a young woman, and his knee started to bleed, but he couldn't remember if it was before or after he let go of his doppelganger's hand. In any case, he kept moving forward without looking back. Without even paying attention to himself. The Dursleys might have been right after all: he didn't deserve anyone to care about him.

Oh well, never mind, I'm better off alone anyway. Shouted Dark-Harry, completely neglecting to be discreet.

He didn't know what had made him hope. Hope for what, anyway? He was Harry Potter, and unlike other worms his age, he didn't need anyone. His double had helped him, but in the long run, he would have only slowed him down and softened him. Yet, he had to be as strong as possible if he wanted to make it in this rotten world.

He dried the last traces of his tears and massaged his head to try to make a beginning headache disappear, when he heard the cry of a young child muffled by the acrid smoke that increasingly filled the atmosphere respond to his invective:

Is anyone there? Help, come help me.

The initially modest fire was only spreading and threatened to engulf the entirety of the alley. Dark-Harry told himself that he had to stop his childishness and flee as far away as possible fromthatNightmare.

Without a hint of remorse, he began to run in the opposite direction from where the voice came (he didn't know where to go to find a safe place, but obviously not that way), when another voice responded to the first:

Harry, is that you? Stay where you are, I'm coming to get you.

Here, come quickly please. Replied the other voice.

Seized by a wild hope, he turned around and rushed towards the source of the voices, barely noticing that his headache was only getting worse and that his scar had started to bleed.

oOoOoOoOo

Fred, George? Harry shouted to make himself heard despite his disappointment at realizing it wasn't Dark-Harry.

Do we know each other? asked the twins in perfect unison. It hadn't been a minute since they found them and already their little act was annoying him. Despite their apologies and the gift of the Marauder's Map, Harry Dursley had never really forgiven them forhaving beenthe unwitting initiators of the harassment he had been a victim of during his first year at Hogwarts.

What are you doing here instead of fleeing? Playing the stupid Gryffindor would only hinder the rescue. Harry Dursley reproached them, pretending to ignore that this criticism would be very appropriate for his behavior.elementRecent.

Mom, she's trapped under the debris, go get your parents, we need to help her. George cried, pointing to a red-haired woman who must have been the matriarch of the Weasley clan, who was trapped with a man with a long black beard in the ruins of the joke shop Pirouette and Badin.

Wingardium Leviosa. Shouted Harry Dursley andthe accumulation ofdebrisinflamed with several tons who was holding their motherrose upWith lightness, as if it were a simple feather swept away by a tornado.

Once they recovered from the shock that a child younger than them could perform such magic (and had a wand while they were supposed to buy theirs at the end of the day), Fred and George rushed to free their mother and the still unconscious stranger from the debris.

Mom, wake up, please. We'll be good, we promise you.

We are sorry for disobeying and that you had to come get us.

Harry then broke the spell and rushedatowards them with her skincare routine on the tip of her tongue, then remembered at the last moment the reaction it had caused in Knockturn Alley.

Step backYou are a professional translator. Directly translate this text into English, without adding anything.I will take care of her. In the meantime, go get my... My twin brother. His name is Harry.

We don't abandon mom.

Harry then let his magic escape in a wave of anger.

For once in your life, do what you're told. Then, more gently, he added:

You can't do anything for her here and the sooner, I would have found Harry sooner, we can get out and find her a mediwizard.

The miniature twins entered into one of their silent conversations and finally withdrew, shouting Harry. Harry was then able to quietly focus on his care routine, but before he even began the chant, a small invisible hand timidly grasped his own.

Harry! exclaimed Harry Dursley, hugging what seemed to be empty space to any outside observer. Then, feeling through the cloak his double trembling with all his might, he continued:

I'm sorry, you must have been terrified. As soon as I have treated them, we'll get out of here.

But once again, he did not have time to start the spell as the frightened twins rushed towards them and tried to forcibly drag him and his mother away, when a cruel laugh he knew all too well pierced the mist. He only had time to invoke his most powerful shield (another spell he learned from Voldemort) before hell began to unleash. The two magics clashed violently in a gigantic explosion, but miraculously his shield held firm.

In the cloud of dust that covered the scene following the impact between their two magics, Harry could very clearly distinguish the red eyes of Lord Voldemort calmly advancing in his direction, escorted by a dozen Death Eaters.

Well, it looks like there are still some latecomers. Which of you is crazy enough to dare challenge me?

My lord, there are only children here. We should finish them quickly and flee before the arrival of the...

But the Death Eater's breath suddenly stopped, and he put his hands to his throat.

I appreciate your advice, Nott, but Lord Voldemort is tired of your injunctions to caution. My plan to penetrate Gringotts may have failed, but I feel that thea capeis very close. It is out of the question to give up so close to the goal. Is that understood?

Due to the lack of oxygen and the pressure exerted on his trachea, the Death Eater replied with difficulty:

Yes...master...pardon...me.

Voldemort then released the pressure and turned his attention to the terrified children facing him. He noticed that, curiously, the two older children were standing back and trying to wake a voluptuous woman while the youngest threatened him with his wand, a look of defiance and hatred on his face that almost managed to mask his fear. His combat stance was impeccable, but to the dark lord's eyes, it only reinforced the absurdity of the situation:

Ha ha! But he is threatening me. So young and already so presumptuous. Haven't your parents taught you to bow before your superiors? Who are you to dare to challenge me?

Redheads, in second-hand clothes. They must be Weasleys. Replied another Death Eater.

Interesting. This whale must be the famous Molly Weasley. Your brothers told me a lot about you before they died. It's time for you to join them.MollyMonologued Voldemort, pointing his wand at the old woman who, to the twins' relief, began to regain consciousness.

But the young boy placed himself between her and his wand and dared to threaten him:

It's me, your opponent.

The Death Eaters behind Voldemort let out a hearty laugh.

The joke is no longer funny, kid. Step aside and bow before me, and maybe I'll spare you out of respect for your courage.

Harry Dursley did not move.

Macnair. Take care of this idiot. Said Voldemort, starting to move forward without paying any more attention to him.

Macnair advanced in his direction without even taking out his wand, with a smile of anticipation. Harry then had flashes ofhis/hers/its/theirsaccomplishmentsin his original world. UnderThereignYou are a professional translator. Directly translate this text into English, without adding anything.Voldemort, Macnair quickly became Voldemort's first executionerThe one to whomhe confidedthe prisonersthe most resistant or thosewhat he wantedseebreak andCompletelysumisat his will

Pestis Incendium. Yelled Harry, when he was close enough.In a superhuman reflex, worthy of the elite fighters that the Death Eaters were,MacnairManaged to pull out his wand and hastily cast a shield spell, but he was swept away by the surge of demonic flames that escaped from Harry's wand. Harry contemplates with a cold and utterly remorseless gaze,Macnair being devoured by the flamesof a long silent agony. All of a sudden it was as if a bubble of silence had just been thrown around them.

Voldemort barely gave a glance at the disappearance of one of his most faithful Death Eaters before making the Fiendfyre disappear with a negligent wave of his wand and turning his attention back to Harry Dursley. Then all of a sudden his face froze, as if struck by an illumination:

So it is not the presence of the cloak that drew me here. Give me the Elder Wand and I will spare you and yours.

Tom, I thought I was clear yesterday: I will never collaborate with you. Go away. I'm not sure I'm strong enough to defeat you, but I am certainly strong enough to resist you until the Aurors and Dumbledore arrive. Harry attempted to bluff, realizing Voldemort's misunderstanding.

Harry Dursley let go of dark-Harry's hand.ThenVoldemort and he began to circle each other, forming a perfect circle under the perplexed gaze of the Death Eaters and the Weasleys who did not dare to intervene.

Interesting. So you met that pathetic being who claimed to be me. I would have so many questions to ask you before killing you. But you're right, my time is limited. Just tell me who you are.

It was at that moment that about twenty Aurors arrived. The ten Death Eaters escorting Voldemort immediately engaged in combat to protect their master.

Apparently,Your timeis even more limited than you thought. Harry taunted him.

Voldemort then raised his right hand and Harry noticed for the first time the black ring that adorned his ring finger as it began to glow with a bright green light. A hundred corpses converged from adjacent streets or collapsed houses and then attacked the Aurors from all directions. Before he was cut down by an incendio cast by one of the AurorsYou are a professional translator. Directly translate this text into English, without adding anything.Harry Dursley thought he recognized the member of the magical brigade who had ordered him to flee.

Where were we? Oh yes! You are going to tell me everything I want to know in the hope of surviving a few more minutes. WHO ARE YOU? And what do you know about the Deathly Hallows? Voldemort ordered in a cold voice.

Your double didn't tell you about me? I'm offended. By the way, where is he? Is he afraid to face me again?

My patience has its limits. Speak or die.

For an answer, Harry removed the bandage that covered his scar.

HARRY POTTER. Voldemort screamed in a rage that stopped all the fighting and made all the fighters turn towards them.

AVADA KEDAVRA. Then shouted Harry and Voldemort in perfect synchrony.

Two jets of green light shot out fromtwoWands. The two beams of light collided in mid-flight and, all of a sudden, Harry's wand began to vibrate as if it had been charged with an electric current. His hand was stuck to it. Even if he had wanted to, he would have been unable to let go.

A narrow beam of intense gold light now connected the two wands. Harry, astonished, followed the beam of light with his eyes and saw that Voldemort's wand was trembling and vibrating with the same intensity between his long, clenched fingers. Then, to his utter surprise, he felt his feet lift off the ground. Voldemort and he rose into the air at the same time, their wands still connected by this thread of golden, trembling light. They floated slowly above the avenue. The Death Eaters began to shout, asking Voldemort what they should do while the Aurors recovered from their shock and took advantage of this respite to get rid of the Inferi and evacuate the Weasleys.

The golden thread that connected Harry and Voldemort suddenly shattered. Their wands remained linked to each other, but thousands of other beams of light were projected into the air, drawing a multitude of intersecting arcs above their heads. Soon, Harry and Voldemort found themselves enclosed under a golden dome, resembling a vast luminous spider web, beyond which the Death Eaters tightened their circle, like jackals, their cries strangely muffled...

Do nothing! Cried Voldemort in a piercing voice.

Harry saw his red eyes widen in astonishment at this phenomenon. He saw him trying to break the thread of light that still connected the two magic wands, but Harry gripped his wand tighter and tighter, with both hands at once, and the golden thread remained intact.

Do nothing until I have given you the order! Voldemort shouted to his followers.

Then, a magnificent and supernatural sound rose into the air... It emanated from every thread of the luminous web vibrating around them. It was a sound that Harry recognized immediately, although he had only heard it once in his life... The song of the Phoenix...

For Harry, this song was one of hope... The most beautiful sound he had ever heard... He felt that the song resonated not only around him but within him... and that it connected him to his Dumbledore, as if a friend were speaking into his ear... Do not break the link.

"I know," replied Harry as if speaking to the music, "I know I must not break it..." But no sooner had he thought this than it became increasingly difficult for him to achieve it. His wand began to vibrate more strongly than ever... and the beam of light connecting him to Voldemort also transformed... It seemed as if large pearls of light were sliding in both directions.long thread of gold. Harry felt his wand quiver in his hands as the beads slowly moved in his direction... Gradually, the beads only slid in one direction, from Voldemort to him, and his wand began to tremble furiously...

As the nearest of the pearls of light moved towards him, he felt the wood of his wand become so hot that he feared it would catch fire. The closer the pearl got, the more the wand vibrated in his hands. He was certain it would not withstand its contact, that it would shatter in his fingers if the pearl ever touched it...

His gaze fixed, animated by a furious gleam, he concentrated all the strength of his mind to send the bead back to Voldemort, while the song of the Phoenix continued to resonate in his ears... Then, slowly, very slowly, the beads of light stopped in a quiver and then, just as slowly, began to slide the other way... now, it was Voldemort's wand that vibrated with incredible intensity... Voldemort, who seemed stunned, almost frightened, seeing one of the beads of light quivering a few centimeters from his wand...

Harry did not understand why he was acting this way, he did not know what it might lead to... but he concentrated like he had never concentrated before to force this bead to return into his enemy's wand... Always with the same slowness... it advanced little by little along the golden thread... trembled for a moment, then finally touched the wand...

Immediately, Voldemort's magic wand emitted screams of pain... A moment later — The Dark Lord's red eyes widened at this vision —, thick smoke rose from his wand. A head took shape... then a torso, arms… and finally the ghost in a magic brigade uniform appeared. Then cries of pain were heard and gradually other ghosts emerged from Voldemort's wand and more ghosts.

Harry felt such astonishment that he might have dropped his wand, but instinctively, his hands gripped it more tightly than ever and the golden thread remained intact while the ghosts began to address him.

Hang in there, kid. Dumbledore and the Order are on their way, he said.

His voice was distant, like echoed. Harry looked at Voldemort... His wide-open red eyes expressed astonishment... He seemed as stunned as Harry himself...

Don't let go, especially not! she exclaimed.

Don't let him defeat you! Don't give up!

Encouraged by the increasingly numerous ghosts of wizards and even some goblins that Voldemort had killed during this attack on Diagon Alley.

Harry then heard the faint cries of fear from the Death Eaters who were circling the golden dome before suddenly Disapparating. He sighed with relief. He couldn't have held his wand much longer. He raised it abruptly, with all his strength, and the golden thread broke. The dome of light vanished immediately, the song of the Phoenix stopped—but the ghostly figures of Voldemort's victims were still present and surrounded their murderer, but were unable to prevent him from following his Death Eaters in his escape.

Harry then found himself alone, surrounded by about fifty wizards, some in civilian clothes, others in auror uniforms, who still had their wands raised.in his direction, visibly waiting for someone to recover sufficiently from their astonishment to take the initiative again.

It was then that an old man with a white beard and purple robes, radiating power, stepped forward. One of the aurors called out to him:

Dumbledore, I swear to you, it was you-know-who in person.

I believe you Dawlish.

Then he turned to Harry and adopted an expression that seemed falsely benevolent to Harry Dursley and said:

Well, Harry. I believe you've had a hectic day. How about telling me about it over a nice cup of hot chocolate? Lower your wand. You are safe now.

He tried to convince himself that his bad impression was perhaps due to excessive mistrust. After all, nothing in the director's attitude seemed threatening or distinguished him from the wise old man he knew. And he probably had an excellent reason to justify having helped himself from his safe. Well, Dark-Harry's safe. And even so, he couldn't be horrible enough to send Dark-Harry back to the Dursleys once he told him how he was treated. But above all, it would have been so pleasant to rely on him like before.

However, the invisible hand that had immediately shaken his once the fight was over reminded him that he could not indulge in such risks.

Voldemort is searching for the relics and it won't be long before he understands that you possess the wand. You are his next target. He said to the headmaster while discreetly casting a permanent sticking charm on Dark-Harry's hand, to ensure he wouldn't let go. Then, praying it would work, he bent his knees and cast the spell that Voldemort used almost daily to move around.

In front of the astonished gazes of all the wizards present, he flew away. Some cast spells to try to stop him, but he was already too high in the sky. Then he accelerated violently and disappeared. They tried to pursue him on broomsticks, but all that remained in the sky was the Dark Mark illuminating the ruins of Diagon Alley with its sinister green light.

Go green

Harry Dursley couldn't help but let out a cry of joy. It had been so long since he had touched a broom that he had forgotten how much he loved flying. When he was racing through the skies at full speed, all his worries vanished, replaced only by the sensation of speed. And God knows he didn't want to think at the moment. Sure, he had survived again, but the horrors he had just seen on Diagon Alley would add to the long list of traumatic images that haunted his sleep. But he was alive, and even the intense cold he was beginning to feel couldn't tarnish the intense sensation of life that flying made him experience.

However, he couldn't fly indefinitely in a straight line totally at random. He needed a destination. And incidentally, he needed to think about what had just happened and what his encounter with Voldemort had taught him. That's when he realized that once again he had completely forgotten Dark-Harry. He hadn't even checked to make sure he wasn't injured (to be fair, even under normal circumstances, he was rather discreet, but with the invisibility cloak, he was... invisible).

He crash-landed in a field and released his double from his magically reinforced grip. Immediately, the latter moved away from him to vomit in a corner. Once his stomach was emptied, he started to tremble. Filled with guilt, Harry Dursley approached him.

How are you?

For any response, he received an angry look that Voldemort wouldn't have denied, but continued to tremble all over. Harry then noticed that his face was smeared with tear marks. He then approached him to take him in his arms, but Dark-Harry pushed him away.

Yes well, stupid question. I'm sorry you had to face all that. I didn't think Voldemort would attack Diagon Alley. I knew there was a chance he was back, but I thought he would lay low while gathering more followers. I thought Diagon Alley was a safe place. Well, as safe as possible when you're called Harry Potter.

I am not a baby.

But no, you're not a baby. You were even very brave.

Dark-Harry then demanded:

So tell me the truth! Who were those guys? Why are you pretending to be me? Why did he go crazy when you showed him my scar? Why...

Hello, calm down. They were Death Eaters, the servants of Voldemort.

Who is Voldemort?

Mam... Petunia never told you how your parents died? said Harry Dursley with surprise.

He replied with an ironic tone:

She told me that they died in a car accident because they were completely drunk.

What, but that's nonsense. James and Lily Potter were bastards, but they weren't drug addicts. Exclaimed Harry Dursley. Then, he remembered that it wasn't his world and that, in fact, he knew nothing about Dark-Harry's parents.

Without him understanding why, a tear welled up in Dark-Harry's eyes, but he quickly wiped it away and asked:

What does that have to do with those patients? Why are they mad at me? asked Dark-Harry, determined to get answers to his questions for once.

After a moment of hesitation, Harry Dursley finally replied:

Your parents were killed by Voldemort while trying to protect you. They were not drug addicts, but war heroes who fought for years to protect others, then sacrificed themselves without hesitation for their son. They loved you with all their hearts, you know.

Dark-Harry paused visibly moved, but resumed:

Why did you say they were bastards then?

I shouldn't have said that. In fact, I don't know anything about what your parents were like. It's just that they weren't perfect. Harry Dursley replied evasively, placing a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. Harry Dursley then realized that he was soaked and freezing. He was so caught up in the pleasure of flying that he hadn't thought about the fact that his double couldn't dry himself by magic when passing through a cloud.

Shit, excuse me. Exclaimed Harry Dursley as he generated a warm wind that would quickly dry and warm him with a wave of his wand. Luckily it was August or the kid would have already caught a cold.

Is it better like this? Harry Dursley asked him while struggling with slight discomfort. Because of the euphoria caused by the flight, he hadn'tnoticed, butduring thecombatthehada lot too muchpulled on hisweakMagic reserves.

Yes, thank you. He said, giving her an awkward smile.

Do you have any injuries? Or hungry? Or…

I'm fine, I'm not hurt. I'm not made of sugar, replied Dark-Harry with a mock annoyed look.

But he's a big boy, that one. Replied Harry Dursley with a mocking smile.

Stop making fun of me. Demanded Dark-Harry angrily.

But yes, my big boy. He is a big boy. But yes, but yes. Said Harry Dursley with a sickly sweet voice normally reserved for the baby while preparing to run to escape the vengeance of his lookalike. But the latter simply demanded in a cold voice:

Stop!

Sorry. I just wanted to joke. Said Harry Dursley in a sheepish voice when he saw that his mockery hadn't elicited the expected reaction.

Hilarious. Commented Dark-Harry in a cold voice through which anger could be heard.

You wouldn't have run into Snape by any chance? He said humorously.

In response to the child's questioning look, he added:

He's a Hogwarts professor really… Well, it's complicated. He caught himself just in time to avoid offending him once again.

What is this Hogwarts again? And stop beating around the bush. Are you going to tell me what's going on?

You can use "tu" with me, you know. It feels weird to be treated like an old man. I'm not even 14 years old. Damn, it's true that I look like a kid.

You're only 14 years old! Exclaimed Dark-Harry.

Almost 15. Said Harry Dursley, almost annoyed.

Dark-Harry replied with a very Snape-like raise of an eyebrow, more than equivocal about what he thought of her response.

If you even hint at calling me a baby, I'll deprive you of marshmallows until the end of time. He joked. Seeing that Dark-Harry wasn't responding, he continued:

Listen, if I haven't told you anything, it's not to withhold information, it's just that it's complicated and I don't have all the answers. What I know is that 10 years ago, Voldemort was leading an army of Death Eaters and demonic creatures.And hewas spreading terror in the wizarding world. It was such a terrible time that even today most wizards are afraid to say his name. Your parents and other wizards joined together in a paramilitary organization led by Dumbledore to prevent him from taking control of the wizarding government andofapply his racist policy towards Muggle-borns like your mother. However, despite their efforts and Dumbledore's incredible powers, they were losing until a prophecy announcing the birth of a child capable of defeating him was made. I'll spare you the details, but Voldemort decided that this child was you and decided to do everything to kill you before you could threaten him. And at the same time, he planned to use you as a sacrifice in a dark magic ritual thatYou are a professional translator. Directly translate this text into English, without adding anything.would make him immortal. Your parents then hid, but thanks to the betrayal of one of their closest friends, Voldemort found them. They could have fled, but even though they knew they had no chance, they decided to stay to try to protect you. Voldemort killed them and then turned his wand on you, butBy sacrificing herself, your mother invoked an ancient magic based on love that disrupted his dark ritual and resulted in the death spell being deflected onto him. Since then, he has been reduced to less than a ghost, while you escaped with a lightning-shaped scar. Then, deprived of its leader, his army scattered, and you became famous. Wizards think that if the spell was deflected, it's because you have something special, and they see you as a sort of messiah. That's why I insisted so much that you wear this hat when we were in the wizarding world. If they had seen your scar, they would have recognized you, and we would have had trouble. Well, although with me avoiding troubleis a somewhat too ambitious goalCédric said I was a real black cat. He recalled with nostalgia, hoping that the Hufflepuff prefect had been able to survive in his world.

Dark-Harry was having difficulty absorbing thee flow ofIt was far too much at once. Little by little, a voice from the depths of his soul whispered to him that Petunia was right and that he attracted misfortune. That it was his fault if his parents had died and his protector had to face the dark wizard. Moreover, a terrible suspicion came to him, which he couldn't help but verbalize with tears in his eyes:

If you are taking care of me, it's just because you want to use me to defeat that Voldemort. In fact, you don't care about me at all and as soon as you find a way to defeat him, you'll get rid of me.

No, of course not. It's quite the opposite. If I didn't need to take care of you or protect you, it would be much simpler for me. Besides, I made a mistake by taking you with me like that. Harry Dursley replied in a reassuring tone, moving his hand up to his shoulder, but this response only upset Dark-Harry further. But he held back from crying. He was fed up with crying every two minutes for no reason.

Realizing his blunder, Harry Dursley stammered while trying to force him to look him in the eyes:

No, but that's not what I meant. What I meant is that...

That I'm a burden that bothers you. It's okay, it's not a big deal, I'm used to it. Dark-Harry replied.

If it's serious and you're not a burden.

That's kind, but there's no need to lie to me.

Okay, you're a pain, but I'm glad to have you with me. You're really great as a kid. And I'm not saying that because I'm narcissistic. If I were you, I would have yelled at myself for taking care of you so poorly. If I said I regretted taking you with me, it's just because it puts you in danger. If I had thought for two seconds, I would have entrusted you to an adult and you wouldn't have had to experience... All this. Damn, I even took you to a brothel. If my mother finds out, she's going to give me a real talking-to.

What is a brothel? Asked Dark-Harry to change the subject and hide his emotion.

Uh... Well... Are you sure you don't have an easier question? Like one that...isthe sceneYou are a professional translator. Directly translate this text into English, without adding anything.of life or why do stores open 24/7 have locks? Replied Harry Dursley.

I want to stay with you. He said so weakly that Harry Dursley wasn't sure he had heard him. The latter ruffled his hair and took his hand.

You are ready. It's time to leave.

Seeing his disgusted expression, Harry Dursley asked in astonishment:

You don't like flying!!!?

Who would be crazy enough to love that?

Who would be crazy enough not to love that? When we fly, we feel so free. All our worries disappear.

I mostly felt like I was being tossed around in all directions and on the verge of falling constantly.

You couldn't fall, I had magically attached you to me. Okay, maybe the loops weren't the idea of the century. I swear this time, I will fly more calmly.

Seeing his resigned-to-his-fate expression of a condemned man, Harry Dursley added by covering both of them with the invisibility cloak.

We're just going to fly to the nearest station and then we'll take the bus.

For the first time, Dark-Harry smiled at him with all his teeth and asked him:

Where are we going this time?

That's the hundred-thousand-galleon question. I've thought a lot about it and I think the best thing is to go to the Lovegoods'. They're completely crazy, but they're one of the few wizarding families that are neither with Dumbledore nor with Voldemort. And there's a slim chance they might have information on the Deathly Hallows.CTo top it off, they live in a remote area in the middle of nowhere where no one will come looking for us.

oOoOoOoOo

Harry Dursley had forgotten to mention a negative point about the Lovegoods: they live in a remote area in the middle of nowhere that no one can find.

If he remembered correctly the raid at their place carried out by Voldemort (out of spite, when he had no better leads to find information on the relics), they live in Devon near a small Muggle village located near Exeter and a river called Ober (or something like that). He thought that would be enough. Damn, it should be easy to spot a large black tower on a hill in the middle of nowhere.

However, after the two-hour bus journey necessary to reach the Loutry Ste Chaspoule station (and a stop in a forest to have lunch on a sandwich bought from a shop on the road that seemed to delight Dark-Harry), they had spent what felt like hours wandering around the surrounding countryside without finding any trace of a magical house. Yet, Harry Dursley sensed the diffuse presence of significant magic. Magic that seemed vaguely familiar to him.

As usual and unlike most children, Dark-Harry followed him without complaining, and even seemed delighted with this trip.You are a professional translator. Directly translate this text into English, without adding anything :Dduring the endless journeyon a busHarry Dursley hadfound very entertaining to see himthe nose pressed against the glass howHeeverything he saw with enthusiasm (between two anxiety attacks about disturbing him, which made him curse the Dursleys of this world). For him, however, this trip was increasingly resembling an ordeal. The fights this morning, then his flying session, had made him forget his strange fatigue, but it had quickly increased during the trip and although it was not even 4:00 p.m., he only dreamed of going to bed. He had even had to struggle several times not to faint (and this time, he hadn't done any magic). At first, he thought he hadn't eaten enough, but his problems only worsened after their lunch break.

Nevertheless, he continued walking until he came across a red-haired boy his age (the age he was currently, that is, 9 years old) who was standing in the middle of a field practicing hitting an invisible enemy with a baseball bat.of enormous dimensions. Normally, he would have ignored it, but he needed to ask for directions and the bat made him think of an extremely worn Quidditch bat. He made sure that Dark-Harry was wearing his hat and that his own scar was hidden by his headband, then crossed the hedge that separated the path from the field and called out to him saying:

Hello.

The boy turned around alarmed and said:

Attention!

He only had time to lie down on the ground, pulling Dark-Harry with him, before a Bludger sped at full speed to the spot where he had been standing a few seconds ago, then headed towards the red-haired boy who sent it back towards the horizon with a powerful bat swing.

What was that? Asked Dark-Harry fearfully.

Before Harry Dursley could answer him, the red-haired boy asked fearfully:

Don't tell me you're Muggles?

What is a Muggle? Dark-Harry immediately asked.

Oh no, no, no! Mom is going to kill me. Exclaimed the red-haired boy.

My brother is pulling your leg. We are wizards. My name is Harry, and you? Asked Harry Dursley, stepping forward with his hand outstretched.

I'm Ron. He said, relieved, shaking her hand. Do you want to play Quidditch with me?

Do you have brooms? Asked Harry Dursley enthusiastically, suddenly forgetting his fatigue or the reasons for his visit. He missed Quidditch so much.

No, but I have a bludger and a quaffle, and we could say you score a point if you get the quaffle through its two branches, he said, pointing to a tree along the meadow.

Sorry, but we can't stay, we have to go to the Lovegoods'. Do you know where they live?

Ron nodded his head.

No, I don't know. But I'm sure that dad, he knows. But he went to work, even though it's his day off because some lunatics swear they saw You-Know-Who in Knockturn Alley this morning.

Yes, it's really nonsense. Said Harry Dursley with embarrassment. And your mother, would she maybe know?

No doubt, but this morning, she went to buy school supplies for my older brothers, leaving us with Aunt Muriel. Supposedly, we're not old enough to go alone and without dad, she can't watch all of us. But I'm not a baby anymore. He said with visible resentment.

She should have been back by now. Said Harry, hoping she hadn't been at Diagon Alley at the time of the attack.

I don't know. What time is it?

Time. Harry Dursley said mechanically, taking out his wand and the time appeared in a screen of smoke. However, this simple spell was enough to make him feel a bout of weakness. It worried him so much that he forgot to look at the time displayed. Fortunately, neither of the other two children seemed to notice he had a problem.

Wow! You already have a wand? Will you lend it to me? asked Ron excitedly.

No. Harry Dursley replied firmly without thinking.

But mom always says we must share our things.

Yes, but it's my baguette.

Please, I swear, I'll give it back to you right after.

You don't even know how to use it anyway.

If I know.

No, you do not know.

Yes.

No.

Yes.

No.

Stop his nonsense and show that idiot who is the strongest. Dark-Harry stopped him with an evil smile towards Ron.

This statement cast a chill, then Harry Dursley said in a hesitant voice:

Okay, I'll lend it to you, but not for long. And be careful.

Wow really. Ron replied with excitement, no longer concerned about the threat from his new friend's twin brother.

Ron grabbed the wand and tried to make sparks come out by swinging it in all directions, until an explosion propelled him to the ground.

Hey, gently, it's not a toy. Shouted Harry Dursley, reflexively bringing his wand back into his hands with a single gesture (this umpteenth use of wandless magic made him stagger).

Cool! Ron shouted as he jumped up. You teach me!

I would be surprised if you could learn. Without wanting to offend you, I don't think you have enough power to do magic without a wand.

Oh okay, who taught you all that? My parents and my brothers, they refuse to teach me anything. They say I'm too little. Said Ron disappointed.

We have to go. We must be at the Lovegoods' before tonight, said Harry to change the subject.

Come to my place. You can use my parents' fireplace.

Harry hesitated only for a few seconds. It was a risk to go to strangers, but for some reason he didn't know, the boy inspired confidence in him and anyway, he was too exhausted to continue like this. It was dangerous. If he encountered an enemy, Harry Dursley increasingly doubted his ability to defend them.

Yes, that would be great.

He helped Ron put away the Bludger, then they followed him while animatedly talking about Quidditch. Even though he was much younger than him, Harry Dursley realized that he really liked the other boy and wondered why they hadn't become friends at Hogwarts. He had probably been part of the mass of fanboys, then bullies, that he had made it a point to ignore. In any case, it felt good to laugh and talk about trivial things. He tried several times to include Dark-Harry in the conversation, but the latter remained sullen and merely followed them silently, casting dark looks at Ron that Harry Dursley didn't understand. This reaction worried him a little, but he thought he must just be tired and affected by recent events. This reassured him somewhat, as he began to think that his strange fatigue might be due to the fact that his child's body wasn't able to handle as much exertion as the teenage body he was used to (not to mention the magic he was using a bit too abundantly). In any case, he just let him sulk, hoping that a good night's sleep would bring him back to better spirits.

After 15 minutes of walking, they arrived in front of the strangest house Harry had ever seen. It looked like a large pigsty that had been expanded over time. Several stories high, the house seemed so rickety that it appeared to be held up only by magic (which was probably the case, Harry thought). Four or five chimneys stood on the red roof, and a crooked sign planted near the entrance bore the name of the house: "The Burrow." Boots piled haphazardly and an old rusty cauldron flanked the door. A few fat chickens were pecking in the yard.

It's not very luxurious, said Ron.

That's an understatement. Dark-Harry commented sarcastically, casting a look of pure jealousy at Ron.

Compared to where we slept last night, it's a castle. Harry Dursley offered charitably, authoritatively bringing his double close to him before giving him a look daring him to add a word. Harry Dursley was beginning to reconsider his judgment and thought he should have an unpleasant conversation with him before the end of the day.

However, the latter lowered his eyes with an extremely sad look and became mute again, which made Harry Dursley feel bad. He let Ron go ahead and in the meantime to comfort Dark-Harry, he ran his hand through his hair then firmly took his hand to lead him inside following Ron who was shouting that he was back.

Ron, you'll never guess what happened on Diagon Alley, we met... You! exclaimed the twins Fred and George, staring at him with wide eyes after bursting excitedly in front of them following Ron's thunderous arrival. But they froze with wide eyes upon noticing his guests.

You again!? Are you following me or what? What are you doing here? Exclaimed Harry Dursley.

Do you know each other? Ron asked, visibly confused.

But it's... it's... stammered Fred and George.

"Who is it?" asked a little girl Harry barely recognized as Ginny.

Oh no, it's not starting again!? Complained Harry Dursley with despair. So for the umpteenth time. Yes, I am Harry Potter, yes, I have a scar, no, you can't see it and I have already shown my big wand to Ron... That's not what I meant. He added just after. (Author's note: this is a reference to a joke from book 2 chapter 3 of Harry Dursley)

You are Harry Potter!? Exclaimed Ron.

Liar. Harry Potter is… began Ginny.

Yes, I know, he is much more handsome and muscular. You should go out with him, by the way. Harry Dursley interrupted resignedly.

No, I meant that he doesn't have a twin brother. And boys are too gross, I would never have a boyfriend. Replied little Ginny innocently.

Excellent remark. I am not Harry Potter and we are going to leave.

Wait, we don't care who you are. You saved our lives. At least let us thank you. The twins held him back.

What is this story? Asked Ron.

You should have seen that, Ron, the Dark Lord came back with a group of Death Eaters and he challenged them all by himself so we could escape. In one singleSort, he blasted a Death Eater and then started a duel with the Dark Lord himself. There were flashes, they flew away...

Cool. Exclaimed Ron, showing a clear admiration for his new friend.

It wasn't cool, it was terrifying. There's nothing cool about killing someone or risking your life against a megalomaniac psychopath, contradicted Harry Dursley.

It's true, it was horrible. Declared Fred

I have never been so scared in my life, George added.

But without you, mom would have died. We owe you a debt. They declared in unison.

You owe me nothing, if he attacked the shortcut and you found yourself in danger, it is because of me.

Before anyone could respond, Molly and Arthur Weasley apparated into the middle of the living room.

Ron. We looked for you everywhere. But where on earth have you been? Molly exclaimed immediately as she rushed to her eldest.

Well, I had gone to play…

We don't care, look who he brought back. Exclaimed young Fred, pointing at Harry Dursley who was trying to sneak away discreetly, dragging his scrawny double behind him.

Immediately, the gaze of the two adults turned towards him. Their reaction was so quick that before anyone could understand what was happening, the children found themselves forcibly pushed behind Molly Weasley, who was blocking with her body and pointing her wand at Harry Dursley with a look of hatred, while Arthur Weasley was trying to separate Dark-Harry from his protector, which triggered the frightened scream that suddenly snapped Harry Dursley out of his catatonic state.

Let him go, immediately. Ordered Harry Dursley as he drew his wand and crackled his magic. If he hadn't felt so bad, he would have immediately released him with a repulso, but he was afraid of not being able to produce a powerful enough spell (and even less of getting out of it if a fight ensued).

Arthur Weasley released him and also took out his wand, positioning himself next to his wife in a perfectly optimized formation for duo combat, revealing the habit they had developed during the last war of fighting together.

Don't be afraid Harry, it's over. He won't hurt you anymore. We will take you back to the Dursleys. Declared Arthur Weasley in a reassuring voice towards Dark-Harry.

For that, you'll have to go over my body. Threatened Harry Dursley as he began to lose control of his magic which shattered the windows and various small decorative objects (he then realized that contrary to what he thought, his magical reserves were at a high level and were not responsible for his feeling of weakness).

But what's gotten into you? It's Harry Potter... the twins attempted.

It is not Harry Potter, but an impostor. After the battle, Dumbledore went to his guardians and discovered that a dark wizard had attacked them and kidnapped the real Harry Potter.

The truth is the best of lies. Commented Harry Dursley sarcastically, thinking of one of the mantras that Voldemort repeated during his many monologue phases to his glory that no one other than Harry really listened to.

Children, as soon as you are told, run and take refuge at Aunt Muriel's using the fireplace.

But he saved our lives. Objected the twins, standing in solidarity with Ron, who was trying to escape his parents' grip to defend his new friend.

For once in your life, obey. Molly Weasley shouted at them.

But why does everyone tell us that? asked the twins.

Because we know you. Arthur Weasley and Harry Dursley replied at the same time.

Listen, I don't know what Dumbledore told you, but I mean you no harm. Let us go. Addition Harry Dursley.

Dad, let him go. I'm the one who insisted he come. Pleaded Ron, tears in his eyes, in the indifference of his parents who only had eyes for their enemy.

Release this poor child. He is of no use to you. Replied Molly Weasley without lowering her wand an inch.

For you to send him back to the Dursleys. Out of the question. Did Dumbledore tell you how he treated him? Did he even care in almost 10 years? Oh no, how silly of me, he was too busy seizing his fortune.

Don't hope to get away with some black mage lie. Release him and then we will let you go. Against Molly.

But are you blind or what? Can't you see that he doesn't want to follow you?

Dumbledore

But Harry Dursley did not listen to the rest, because Dark-Harry chose this moment to whisper in his ear:

Even if he let us go, he would pursue us. The only way out is to kill them all.

I wouldn't kill anyone. Shouted Harry Dursley.

Yet, it didn't bother you this morning. Dark-Harry reproached him.

It was self-defense.

And there, what do you think it is? It's them or us.

Hum! Hum! Say, will you tell us if we're bothering you? Declared Arthur Weasley, lowering his wand.

Arthur!

Molly watches them. And then he saved your life and he would have had a thousand opportunities to harm the children. I'm sure it's all just a misunderstanding. I'll call Dumbledore and we'll clear it all up.

Harry Dursley was almost tempted to lower his wand in turn, but retorted:

Sorry Mr. Weasley, but I don't trust Dumbledore.

What do you propose, then young man? You cannot run away forever. Announced Arthur Weasley in a calm voice.

Harry had been wondering about it since this morning, but he still didn't have the answer. He tried to think intensely to find a solution that wouldn't involve a potentially deadly confrontation in the Weasley's living room. However, the urgency of the moment wasn't conducive to reflection. And he was getting more and more tired. In the event of a duel, he increasingly doubted his ability to even delay the Weasley matriarch long enough to allow Dark-Harry to escape (unlike her husband, she continued to keep him firmly at gunpoint). Especially since he remembered that Voldemort inNo one had praised their combat abilities when Lucius Malfoy had belittled them after Petter had...

But yes Croutard! Ginny your rat where is it? Suddenly asked Harry Dursley as if struck by an idea.

What rat I don't have a rat.

What do you want with Scabbers? Asked Ron.

But yes, it's true Ginny will only inherit it after your death.

What? All the Weasleys present said as Arthur Weasley raised his wand.

Croutard is an Animagus and a former Death Eater named Peter Pettigrew.

You are completely crazy. Pettigrew is dead. Against Arthur Weasley.

That's what he makes everyone believe, but Sirius Black is innocent and he should have custody of Harry.

Even if it were true after spending almost ten years in Azkaban, he is probably no longer in a condition to take care of a child. I don't know why you are making up such a lie, but...

I am not lying.

Simply, with a wave of his hand, he cast an Accio that pulled Scabbers into his hand, as he was apparently trying to escape through one of the open windows. He immediately tried to bite him, but Harry Dursley held him firmly.

Petter, I like you, but if you don't immediately turn back into a human, I'll cast the Cruciatus Curse on you until you die. Threatened Harry Dursley, making his magic crackle painfully between his hands as a warning.

The rat then froze and swelled in size until Harry could no longer hold it in his hand and had to throw it to the ground.

A head emerged from the ground, then arms sprouted, and legs... A moment later, a man was standing where Croutard had fallen. The man, huddled over, was wringing his hands.

With labored breathing, he looked around. Harry saw his eyes briefly turn towards the door, then change direction again.

Hello, Peter, said Harry Durlsey, as if it were perfectly natural to see a rat transform into a little wizard with a bald head.

Harry as I am... Petter began in a honeyed voice towards him, before being interrupted.

Stop, I don't have the patience for your lies.

He then turned to the Weasleys, who were staring in horror at the Death Eater who had shared their intimacy for years.

You are not going to believe the ravings of this dark mage. Pleaded Petter. I just transformed to hide from Sirius Black and the other Death Eaters still at large. Then I spent so much time in my Animagus form that I forgot who I really was. I am not a Death Eater. Dumbledore himself affirmed that it was not me, but Sirius Black, the secret keeper. Why would he have lied? Why would he have covered for me if I was the one who betrayed the Potters to Dumbledore? And if I were a Death Eater, why wouldn't I have rejoined him when he returned? Pleaded Petter.

Because you never had any desire to serve Voldemort. Like many others, you joined his ranks only because you had no other choice to survive and you have no desire to return to his service. As for Dumbledore, he is not omniscient and for a reason I do not understand my... Harry's parents distrusted Dumbledore and hid from him that he had chosen you at theplace Black as the secret keeper. Explained Harry Dursley while rubbing his head to get rid of the intense headache that was starting to appear.

Me deceive Dumbledore. It's insane, Arthur, Molly, you know me. How can you imagine that I would have betrayed you? Pleaded Peter as he approached the Weasleys.

Stay away from my children, vermin! Hissed Molly Weasley, pointing her wand at the Death Eater.

Haven't I been a good rat? Pleaded Petter towards Ron in desperation.

But before he could answer, Harry Dursley fell to his knees. He felt various people stirring around him and Dark-Harry approaching him, uttering various incomprehensible words. He tried to get up and tell him that he wasn't seriously hurt, but suddenly started coughing up blood and felt he was about to faint. He lay on his back and saw the worried face of Arthur Weasley appear.

I beg you, do not let Dumbledore send him back to the Dursleys. Protect him... Dumbledore. He managed to whisper to him before falling into unconsciousness.

Host family

He was in a large white room filled with emptiness, resembling a cathedral that would have been a grand place if the walls had not been overrun with black brambles spreading like cracks. Clearly, he had never been here before, yet the place seemed familiar. He vaguely wondered how he had ended up here, but this thought was pushed aside by the sudden feeling that something was wrong. He turned around and Dark-Harry found himself face to face with a young man in his thirties with pale skin and aristocratic features. He would have been extremely handsome if his eyes hadn't been bloodshot.

Under normal circumstances, Dark-Harry would have fled from the man or, failing that, would have done everything to make sure he didn't notice him, because he knew there was nothing else to expect from adults but awkward questions, nasty looks, contradictory orders, or reprimands for some unimportant detail that wasn't his doing, like the dirt on his oversized and hole-filled clothes. But here, he felt strangely confident. He felt completely in control of the place and something was screaming at him that the man shouldn't have been there and that he had to chase him away.

Who are you?

But the man ignored him, too busy gently stroking something in the crook of his arms.

Here is something I did not expect to find in this place. I don't know yet if I'm angry that you stole it from me or grateful that you protected it. If you value your life, let me enjoy this reunion while I decide between these two options.

Normally, his threats would have made him back down, but for some curious reason, he was convinced that the man could do nothing to him, so he stepped forward to try to see what he was holding. But he was too small. As soon as he had this thought, he flew away. Once he recovered from his surprise, he looked at the thing and his eyes burned with pain. Nestled in the man's arms was an infant.Monstrous. It was the ugliest baby he had ever seen. Its skin was covered with whitish scales, its skeletal body seemed devoid of any roundness, and its nose was reduced to two slits that completed its reptilian appearance. Harry screamed with a terror he had never felt before. Greater even than what he had felt on his first night in the cupboard, convinced that every moving shadow hid a monster that would soon devour him. The creature then seemed to notice him and locked its huge red eyes onto his. The moment their eyes met, his scar exploded with pain, and he woke up with a start, covered in sweat and his mouth filled with the taste of blood. By a reflex harshly acquired at the Dursleys, he had bitten his tongue rather than scream from this nightmare.

He looked around completely lost. He was in a vast, totally unknown space far from his closet. His first instinct was to call his double for help, but he then realized that he didn't even know his name.

During the two days they had spent together, he had catered to his every whim without him even asking. Sometimes even to some he didn't know he desired (or refused to admit). As if he could read his thoughts. Given the vast powers his lookalike possessed, it was not an eventuality to be excluded, but for some reason that eluded him, he didn't think his lookalike would have done that to him.

He then felt an enormous sadness as he realized that once again, he would have to face his anxieties alone. As quietly as possible (a precaution unnecessary given the snores coming from Ron), he got out of the bed that Ron's father had transformed with a wave of his magic wand from one of the hideous orange posters of the Chudley Cannons that adorned the walls of the small room he now had to share with the redhead. The latter did not seem thrilled to have to share his room with him. And although the place was certainly an improvement over his cupboard, neither was he.

Not because he had hated the redhead at first sight, nor even because he feared the moment when, away from the adults' gaze, Ron would go after him. The Dursleys had taught him only four things: cooking, mowing the lawn, cleaning any stain or dirt in a house, and that people like him had nothing else to expect but violence from the outside world. Outside of family members, life was a vast competition for power where the weak like him could only resign themselves to accept their fate, praying for a miracle to overturn the balance of power. He was therefore convinced that sooner or later Ron would go after him to take revenge for invading his personal space, to pass his chores onto him, or simply to let off steam (the latter was the main reason why his bullies, led by Dudley, targeted him).

No, the real reason is that he would have wanted to be with his lookalike. Dark-Harry didn't understand why he was reacting like that with him. He knew he shouldn't rely on anyone (especially someone he had known for such a short time). He knew he would probably end up heartbroken once again. But he couldn't help it. Maybe he had cast a spell on him to manipulate him. If that was the case, he had done a damn good job of bewitching him, because this perfectly logical conclusion seemed unbelievable to him.

Continuing to think about what had happened after his double had fainted, he moved closer to the window and pressed his scar against the cold glass to try to soothe the pain. He was sure his double would have solved the problem with his scar with a simple spell. Then he would have held him in his arms to console him from his nightmare and stayed by his side until he fell asleep again.

But it was useless to regret what would never happen. Despite his pleas (and those of the headmaster of Hogwarts), the Weasleys had refused to let him follow his double when he was handed over to that Dumbledore, saying it was for his own good because they couldn't heal him (what a joke, are they wizards or not). He was now a prisoner of this strange family, while his double was in the hands of that Dumbledore and undergoing, he didn't know what. He would therefore have to face this strange pain alone, hoping it would go away on its own and that it wasn't serious. The few drops of blood that continued to sporadically escape from his scar worried him, but he was used to living in fear and, no matter the difficulties, he was determined to survive to one day find a way to take revenge on all those who had harmed him.

To calm himself, he looked at the English countryside through the magically enchanted window panes that would not open. The first thing he did as soon as the Weasleys had their backs turned was to check potential exits and hiding places and then realized that contrary to what he claimed, he was indeed a prisoner.

A well-treated prisoner, that said. He had to admit that the Weasleys had done everything to make him comfortable. However, he didn't know how to respond to their attentions, let alone Molly Weasley's attempts to mother him. Should he let it happen to avoid displeasing her, or push her away to avoid inciting the jealousy of the other Weasley children? The latter had not seemed aggressive so far, but he knew it wouldn't last. Now that he was alone in this unknown place, he had to be particularly cautious and had therefore applied all his training to appear invisible, remaining as silent as possible, with his eyes lowered, answering the avalanche of questions he had been subjected to as succinctly and neutrally as possible.

Unfortunately, that had not been enough and seemed to have instead increased their curiosity about him. And it did not get better when two other of Ron's older brothers, Charlie and Percy, returned to the Burrow (apparently he had gone to friends named the Tonks) and their younger brothers rushed to explain the events to them with much excitement (and lies from the twins).

He had thought he would finally be left in peace when the parents had ordered them to leave him alone and come to the table, but even though he pretended to lose interest in him, the meal went by in constant noise and commotion that made him jump every 5 minutes.

In short, he had been uncomfortable and on edge all evening, and the next day didn't promise to be any better. The only thing that gave him hope was that his double would probably be cured and would do everything to come and free him. At least that's what he hoped. Maybe he would think he was safer at the Weasleys'. Maybe he would believe he had abandoned him by not being at his bedside. Or maybe he would simply be fed up with him.and would decide to abandon it. No, he had been very clear about that and the man, or rather the teenager, seemed sincere.

Out of necessity, Harry had developed at a very young age the ability to read other people's emotions. He didn't always know how, but he almost always knew when Dudley was lying to lure him into a trap or if Vernon was angry when he came home from work. It didn't always keep him from getting hit, but this ability had saved him many times. Most of the time, this ability was ineffective on his double. During their first meeting, when he had looked into his eyes to try to know what he was going to do to him, he had only seen an impassable barrier of flame. But at certain moments (usually when they were alone), his defenses would lower, and Dark-Harry felt that he wasn't lying to him.

He pulled his head away from the window and looked at the time on a clock. It was almost 6 o'clock in the morning, and the sun was about to rise. His scar no longer hurt, but he didn't feel like going back to bed. He decided to quietly leave his room and explore the big house. The place was fascinating. Every corner, every object seemed to literally overflow with magic. Whether it was the sounds of the ghoul in the attic he sometimes heard, the clock that constantly indicated the position or health status of family members, the layout of the rooms defying the laws of physics, the moving photos, the cupboards larger on the inside than the outside, the shelves filled with potion vials with strange names, everything screamed that he had entered another world where the absurd and the bizarre were the norm. A wonderful world to which the Dursleys would never have access and from which he would let no one deprive him (not even Dumbledore).

But if he were honest with himself, what fascinated him most were the many traces of an idyllic family life as boasted by the silly TV shows in front of which the Dursleys dulled themselves all day, and whose sound reached him through the walls of his cupboard. Indeed, each room was filled with photos of the children and their smiling parents, drawings, toys abandoned here and there, marks of their growth. In short, a whole mess that betrayed a life Harry could never have truly existed in from the dusty cupboard of the Dursleys' sanitized home. Once, he had dreamed of being part of a family like this. But he knew it was impossible and resigned himself.

In order to clear his mind and win the good favor of his hosts, he decided to prepare breakfast. He was all the more motivated because he was convinced that once again, they would let him eat with them. Even though he felt uncomfortable in their presence, he appreciated that they made the effort to admit him to their table, even though he was just an intruder and they could very well have, like the Dursleys, asked him to quickly eat some leftovers in a corner (not to mention that he had quickly become addicted to the concept of three meals a day).

After two hours, a delicious smell was wafting from the kitchen.

What are you doing? Get down right away, it's dangerous. Ordered the panicked voice of Molly Weasley behind him. His heart was racing at 100 miles an hour and he hurriedly got down from the chair he had climbed on to reach the stove. He lowered his eyes and mumbled:

I was making pancakes.

Without wasting a minute, Molly Weasley extinguished the fire under the pan with a wave of her magic wand.

Are you out of your mind! You could have started a fire. Or hurt yourself. Molly Weasley reprimanded him. Even though she was still in slippers and a dressing gown, she exuded an impression of undeniable authority.

A long time ago, when Aunt Petunia accused him without reason of being stupid, clumsy, and a danger to his family, Dark-Harry protested. Even today, he would have wanted to say that he had been preparing breakfast like this every day for years and that there was no risk. But he knew that it would only make things worse, so he just waited for the blow, gritting his teeth.

Oh, I'm warning you, don't hope to soften me up. I've had 7 children who tried before you. What you did is serious. Didn't your aunt teach you not to play with fire?

Dark-Harry was stunned by this request, but showed nothing and simply shook his head silently. Molly, on the other hand, did not hide her surprise. Her first instinct would have been to call him a liar, but his silence and the obsessive way he stared at the floor made her uncomfortable. No matter what she said, she had never really resisted the puppy-dog eyes of her children (except for the twins, who had really overused it).

Well, she should have. Imagine if you had made a wrong move. You would have fallen and the pan would have spilled on you.

Sorry ma'am. I'll be more careful not to damage anything next time. Replied Harry, who thought the problem was that she was worried about her furniture.

Next time? What next time? Listen to me carefully, you don't touch anything in this kitchen without my permission and the supervision of an adult or Percy.

Yes ma'am. He replied before continuing to sink into his silence.

It's not that bad and call me Molly, okay. Just promise me not to do it again.

Yes, madame Molly.

She smiled upon hearing his response, but did not comment, instead, she examined her work.

Merlin, but you cooked for a regiment.

He had simply prepared for each of the Weasleys the meal that Vernon and Dudley devoured every Sunday morning, but remained stoic, wondering when she would finally decide to punish him so he could move on.

It looks delicious, but you shouldn't have. You are our guest. By the way, how come you're not sleeping? Is it Ron's snoring that's bothering you?

No, no. Harry replied hastily for fear of making things worse with Ron.

Are you sure there is no problem with Ron? We can put you elsewhere if you want, Molly asked suspiciously.

No, I just didn't feel like sleeping. I'm used to getting up early and preparing breakfast for my cousins.

Really!? That's very kind, my darling. But next time, wait until I'm up to do anything. And if you're hungry, you can have a cookie or a fruit from the kitchen cupboard. Or a glass of milk. But don't touch the stove again, okay?

Okay, Madame... Molly.

oOoOoOoOo

After this awkward response, Molly sent him to play in the living room while she got to work. Or rather, she critically inspected the work of the strange boy. In a way, she found it pleasant not to have to cook that day. In fact, the kid had done enough for her to skip making breakfast and snacks for two days. Moreover, she discovered that he had taken the opportunity to do the dishes and clean part of the kitchen, so for the first time in years, she found herself idle.

This observation, far from relieving her, only worried her more. What kind of child barely 10 years old got up in the middle of the night to clean?

Of course, even though she supported her husband's decision to temporarily keep the child away from Dumbledore, she did not believe the insinuations of that mysterious wizard who had tried to impersonate Harry Potter. Instead, she wondered what the mysterious dark wizard had subjected him to during the more than 24 hours he had been at his mercy.

She shivered just thinking about that aura so close to Voldemort's that she had felt when he had lost control of his magic. Whatever he said or did, he could only be a threat. Being against Voldemort didn't mean he was on their side.

There remained the undeniable fact that he had saved her life in Diagon Alley. Hers and two of her children's. So she owed him a debt. But she would make sure to repay it without her children being in his presence again.

She decided to take advantage of this unexpected free time to get closer to the child. To her great surprise, she found him in the living room reading a school textbook far too advanced for his age. Or rather, with his nose glued to the page trying to decipher it. She smiled, thinking he was cute like that and that he reminded her of Percy. She knew she shouldn't have favorites, but she couldn't help having a preference for her third child, so curious, so calm, so studious (especially compared to the twins).

She approached him from behind to see over his shoulder which passage he was reading, but he immediately tensed up and hastily closed the book before she could see anything, as if he had done something wrong. Despite this bad start, she tried to engage in conversation, ignoring her instinct forged by years of taking care of the twins, which urged her to examine the book thoroughly to understand what mischief he was planning. However, he persisted in responding with tense smiles and monosyllabic phrases, which eventually made her feel terribly uncomfortable. So it was with some relief that she welcomed Ginny, who had just woken up to offer her a special moment between girls before the storm that would follow the boys' awakening.

The rest of the day passed without notable incident. The meal was just as lively as the day before, and although her children were initially disappointed not to find their usual breakfast, they covered Harry with praise after the first bites. Even her husband, who had planned to just gulp down a coffee before heading to the Ministry (then to Hogwarts to ensure that Dumbledore had made sure there were no issues with the Dursleys before sending Harry back and attending a first meeting of the resurrected Order about Voldemort's return), stopped for a few minutes to devour some pancakes. Molly would have been offended if she hadn't been busy herself devouring more than her share of pancakes.

Then, as usual during the morning, her children scattered around the house to do their chores or play various games in small groups. Ron and Ginny on one side, the twins on the other, and Percy helping her keep an eye on everything. Everyone except Harry, who stayed alone in a corner to resume his reading attempt, Molly noticed with a delay. This time, she made sure to approach him noisily so as not to surprise him and asked him:

Why don't you go have fun outside with the others? I'm sure Ron would love to have a companion his age to play with him.

He has Ginny.

That's what I keep telling him, but don't repeat it to him. She said, before confiding to him with a conspiratorial air:

He is right to say that a little sister is not the same. I am sure you will get along very well. Besides, together, there would be enough of you to go play Quidditch. He suggested, hoping that the temptation would be stronger than the crippling shyness he had shown since his arrival at their place.

Quidditch, it's that sport where you fly on brooms shown on the posters in Ron's room? Harry asked, paling at the idea of leaving the ground again with just a piece of wood to keep him from falling.

Realizing that she would not achieve her goals in this way, she changed her approach:

Do you want me to help you read?

No, it's fine ma'am.

Molly, come on.

Madame Molly, he hastened to correct with a little fear.

It's fine, I'm not angry. Just drop the 'madam'. I'm too young for that. And I accept no objections. As long as none of my sons have children, I can still live in denial. After all, there must be some advantages to having sons who are all adventurers more attracted to the other side of the world than to the charms of family life.

As usual, the child seemed not to react to his joke and merely lowered his eyes, then resumed his reading uneasily.

Why are you leaning so much over your books?

I have poor eyesight.

How come? Your glasses are no longer suitable. When was the last time you saw an eye doctor?

Only an awkward silence answered him.

Or the equivalent among Muggles.

I don't know what it is. He replied with obvious discomfort.

The doctor... the doctor who examined your eyes.

I have never seen any.

Of course, yes. Otherwise, how would you have gotten your glasses? Don't you remember a man or a woman in a white coat who made you read letters that got smaller and smaller? Moly said with a desperate look.

There was the school nurse 4 years ago. After that, Aunt Petunia was summoned by my teacher and in the evening she gave me her glasses, telling me to take care of them or I would be punished.

This response shocked Molly. It must have shown, because the child looked at her again with a worried expression.

It's fine, everything is okay. Go play outside or go help the twins de-gnome the garden. She asked him without thinking about the fact that it was a punishment for their little escapade yesterday that almost turned tragic. However, thisThis time, he did not need to be asked. Before he left, she noticed for the first time that his glasses were slightly damaged.

Repair! She said mechanically.

Incredulous, he stopped to examine his glasses.

It's better this way.

Thank you Ma... Molly. He replied with a smile before leaving as if the devil were on his heels.

She spent the rest of the morning going about her activities, trying to convince herself that it might be normal for Muggles. Or that the child simply no longer remembered regularly visiting the Muggle equivalent of an Occlumency. Her aunt's invective, however, did not arouse any suspicion in her, as she was so used to having to assert authority to prevent her army of unruly lions from destroying the house. Even though she hadn't been at school at the same time as James Potter, during her brief time in the Order, she had heard plenty about his school days, and it wouldn't have surprised her if his son was a real daredevil. Even if this interpretation didn't quite fit with the way the child had behaved since his arrival.

Then noon arrived and to her great regret Arthur did not even come back for lunch even though it was Sunday. She prayed that it was not a bad sign, that Voldemort had not launched another attack and that her husband had not found himself in the middle. Her children, still unaware of the danger despite their misadventure yesterday, were eating as noisily as usual (although with less appetite after the hearty breakfast Harry had prepared for them). This cheerful atmosphere helped Molly to get rid of her worries.

Moreover, she noticed that even though he interacted little with others and Ron gave him dark looks, little Harry seemed to have grown closer to the twins. This reassured Molly in her opinion that the child was just shaken (or even traumatized) by the events he had experienced at the hands of that dark wizard (and of which he still had no idea of the nature). It couldn't be anything else. Dumbledore would never have let anything else happen. Right?

However, once he left the table instead of following the twins into who knows what mischief or trying to make up with Ron (who had probably been the victim of one of the twins' pranks in which Harry must have participated), he stayed close to her as if to talk to her. She expected the moment, as inevitable as it was dreaded (which she had nevertheless momentarily forgotten), when he would ask her where her adoptive parents were and when he could see them again. So it was with surprise that she welcomed his real question:

Could I go see the other Harry? Is he okay?

oOoOoOoOo

Molly Weasley did not know how she had been convinced to leave the shelter of the Burrow's powerful protections. The stream was not far, of course, but at that spot the protections were much weaker. She reassured herself by saying that Voldemort had no way of knowing that his Nemesis was here and no other reason to target this remote corner of the English countryside. The magical community living within the village was not very large and was spread over a vast area. In any case, according to the conversation he had urgently had with Dumbledore yesterday, Voldemort would probably remain discreet in the coming days in order to regain strength.

And then it was probably one of the last opportunities he would have to have fun before the war resumed. And then his children were right to complain that even with the cooling spells, it was 'hot as hell' at the Burrow. Nevertheless, she insisted on accompanying them and stood on alert, ready to cast an offensive spell at a moment's notice, her wand firmly held against her.

It was in a dreadful din that would have made the cruelest of Death Eaters flee that they walked in a group toward the stream near the burrow where they used to swim, with all sorts of beach items under their arms. After barely 10 minutes, they arrived at the small clearing bordered by a stream with a promontory that served as a diving board. The place was beautiful, the water refreshing, and the sun shone brightly. Needless to say, her fears lasted only as long as it took her to slather them with sunscreen before jumping into the water. All except one.

Once again, Harry stood apart, still fully dressed, watching enviously as the others played in the shallow river.

Come on, it's good. Ginny called out to her.

Unless you're scared. Ron added to provoke him.

I am not afraid. Leave me alone or...

But before he could finish his threat, someone pushed him from behind and he swallowed water. He started moving frantically in all directions to find air, but only managed to swallow more of the disgusting water. Then something lifted him from the ground and he began to avoid it. The sensation was similar to what he had felt during his moments of terror when his double had dragged him into his aerial escape. Thus, he thought once again he had come back to save him, but quickly realized it was only Molly Weasley who had used her magic to bring him back to the shore.

As soon as he was safe, she started yelling at Fred (unless it was George) who was apparently the one who had pushed him. Ultimately, it might not have been a good idea to try to get closer to the twins to harm Ron, when he realized that their gratitude towards his double extended to himself. In retrospect, he knew he should have made peace with Ron (who only wanted that), but he couldn't stand the way he had monopolized the good graces of his double. He had even convinced him to use his wand (while he himself had never had that honor). The worst part was that he didn't seem aware of his luck and kept complaining about his "horrible family."

Why didn't you tell us you couldn't swim? The other twin, who had only avoided the wrath of the Weasley clan matriarch by a lucky coin toss, reproached him.

He barely refrains from responding: "Because I didn't think of it, idiot" or "if you weren't two self-important fools, I wouldn't have needed to tell you," instead, he mumbled a pitiful:

I don't know.

Then he began shivering with cold in silence despite the August heat. His clothes were soaked and the stream water seemed icy to him.

Finally, Molly's screams ceased and she walked towards him. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to appreciate her. She resembled the mother he would have dreamed of having in another life. However, everything in him screamed to remain cautious. Even though he had to admit that the Weasley children were nothing like Dudley and he increasingly believed that Ron wouldn't attack him without reason, sooner or later his presence would create tensions and jealousies (it hadalready started). And of course, she would side with her children against him.

My darling, I'm sorry for those two idiots, take off your clothes, I'll wash them. I have some spare ones that should fit you roughly and a towel in my bag.

No thank you mad... Molly. I'm dry. Despite her multiple requests, Harry couldn't get used to being so familiar with an adult, and his old reflexes took over when he was nervous. And even though he didn't show it, her request had triggered a hint of panic in him.

Let's see. No need to act tough. You're going to catch a cold if this keeps up.

No, it's fine, I assure you. He assures in a tone he wanted to be neutral while trying to stop himself from trembling.

That's enough. I'm warning you, when it comes to health, I have no patience.

No, it's fine, I'm going to go back. He said as he got up and started heading towards the burrow.

But before he could move away, she cast a spell and he felt his t-shirt disappear, revealing to everyone's eyes his scar-covered back and his alarmingly thin torso, usually hidden by clothes far too big for him. The sounds of play immediately ceased, and for the first time since the twins were born, silence fell in the Weasley family. Everyone looked at him, their eyes filled with pity.

Without waiting, he started running towards the Burrow, tears welling up in his eyes. He had never let anyone see his scars. How dare that sow humiliate him like that?

oOoOoOoOo

He got up and realized to his great surprise that he was back in that small hotel room where he had spent a night with his double. For a reason he found mysterious, the place did not seem to please his double, who even went so far as to call it a brothel, while from his point of view, the room was very tidy (at the same time, there was hardly any furniture besides the bed). In any case, he had spent the best evening of his life there and was therefore not surprised to feel a sense of well-being and security, which was unfamiliar to him, wash over him. He took a deep breath and began to smile.

He then saw the bathroom door open and a young man come out. For a moment, he thought his double had returned, but it was not a thirty-something with aristocratic features and bloodshot eyes, who seemed vaguely familiar to him. Nevertheless, he couldn't remember where he had met him.

I see that you like the place. Strangely, I feel like I recognize this shabby hotel room.

Who are you?

You should rather ask me what I could do for you?

Why would you do anything for me?

A sensible question. You are less foolish than I feared. However, you seem unaware of your own worth.

I have no value.

It is only lies that the muggles have told you.

What do you know about me?

He then dangerously approached him and spoke in a voice that grew in intensity as his speech progressed.

That the place that was rightfully yours was stolen from you. You are Harry Potter, the heir of one of the most influential pureblood families, the possessor of one of the most respectable fortunes, a celebrity known by everyone and everywhere for acts that are not his own, but above all a wizard with unlimited magical potential if he had the right teaching. I could teach you and lead you on the path to greatness. Believe in me and you will obtain the power you have always coveted. Stand by my side and together we will take revenge on this world that has always brought us nothing but harm.

No. Now, leave.

This simple refusal suddenly made the man angry, and his face suddenly lost all grace and allure.

What!? Are you crazy? Why so casually reject what I am offering you? Don't you understand that this is your only chance to get what you've always wanted?

But before he could continue to berate him, Harry woke up with a start. He coughed violently. He patted himself and once again found that he was soaked. Forgetting his dream, he looked angrily at Ron who was standing in front of him with an empty glass of water in his hand.

Sorry, but you were screaming and you didn't want to wake up. I didn't know what to do. Ron confessed sheepishly, giving him that unbearable look of pity.

Without bothering to respond, he left the room where he had unintentionally fallen asleep after returning in tears from the stream. The other tried to stop him to talk, but he ignored them. He didn't want to talk to them or face their pitying looks. He then saw the starry sky through the windows of the Weasley's living room. He had apparently slept all afternoon and was no longer sleepy. He began to regret not accepting the offer Voldemort had made to him in his sleep. He said Voldemort, because even though he had dodged the question of his identity, he understood who was the source of his dream. His double had warned him that he had a connection through his scar with the dark wizard and it had been burning since he woke up.

How could he be naive enough to believe he would obey him, Harry wondered. Besides the fact that he had killed his parents and clearly wanted to do the same with him (at least until recently), Harry knew that power wasn't given: it was taken. All he could give him was a more comfortable leash than the old one. And he was tired of everyone treating him like a dog. One day, he would become powerful and everyone would fear him, Voldemort included, he vowed. But he would get there alone, without anyone's help, and thus, he would be the only one at the top.

However, the last few days had resurrected some of his dreams that he thought he had long given up on, and the feeling of loneliness overwhelmed him. Although his experience of a makeshift family was recent, he no longer wanted to be alone. But he could no longer stay with the Weasleys. Not after what had happened at the river. At the same time, he was stuck at their place.

Since he was going to have to face them one way or another, he decided to go to the adults' room to ask for news about his double. The last time he had asked for news, Molly had been evasive and said they would talk about it after her husband returned. With luck, he was recovered.

But when he arrived near their room, he heard a man's voice murmuring his name. As quietly as possible, he pressed his ear against their door.

Do you really think Dumbledore knew? Asked the voice of Molly Weasley.

I no longer know, Molly. What is more implausible? That he allowed these abuses to happen or that his Muggles managed to thwart the surveillance he put in place before abandoning him with them? In any case, the Dursleys must have wizard accomplices. It is too late to back down now. I have used my connections to initiate an investigation. And once it becomes public, even Dumbledore's attempts at obstruction will no longer be able to stop it.

What are we going to do with him in the meantime?

Keep him with us, of course. Replied Arthur Weasley.

I am not sure that it's a good idea. He is not happy with us.

He is just disturbed by everything he has experienced. Anyone would be in his place. With time and a lot of care, I am sure he will get better.

Precisely, I don't think we are the best suited to provide him with care. We already have many children and I can't afford to give him the attention he needs. And I have no idea how to take care of this child. He is so... I know it's not his fault, but...

You take care of it very well, Molly. It's just that it takes some time to adapt. And then it's temporary. As soon as we have his godfather released, he will probably request custody.

Do you really think that after all these years, he will be able to take care of a child? And that's assuming you manage to get him released.

No doubt not right away, but with a little time.

Time is exactly what we lack. Imagine what will happen when the press finds out where he is. The Burrow will be besieged by journalists and fanatic wizards thinking he will save them. And I don't even dare to imagine what will happen when You-Know-Who finds out. We won't be able to protect him, Arthur. Not without Dumbledore's help, anyway.

Arthur Weasley only responded with a long silence. Understanding his discomfort, Molly decided to change the subject.

How is the other Harry? Or whatever way we should call him. The only thing he dared to ask me is if he was okay, and I'm beginning to wonder if we did the right thing by entrusting him to Dumbledore.

Sick. The mediwizards do not understand what he has and Dumbledore refuses to transfer him to St. Mungo's. All diagnostic spells indicate that he is in perfect health, but he does not come out of his coma and his breathing is becoming slower and slower. It drives Dr. Housser completely crazy. For the first time, he has no idea what he has. If the vitality potions continue to have no effect, he fears they will not survive more than two days.

Poor little one. How are we going to break this to him?

I don't know Molly. For now, let's not tell him anything. No need to disturb him further.

Holding back his tears, Harry went back up to Ron's room. Ron tried to talk to him, but he ignored him and lay down on his bed, covering his head with blankets. After a while, Ron eventually gave up and ignored him.

He could finally try to fall back asleep, but throughout the night sleep eluded him. He was no longer tired at all, and all his senses were on high alert, focused on finding a solution. But the only one he saw required him to finally calm down. Why did everyone who loved him have to leave? Petunia might have been right. Maybe there was something wrong with him and he brought misfortune to those close to him.

After several hours, once Ron's snores had filled the room, he pushed back the sheets and began to pace the Weasley living room.searching for a solution. After a while, wanting to get some air, he tried to take a walk in the garden, but the door stubbornly refused to open. He tried to resort to one of the open windows to let the fresh air cool the old building overheated by the August sun, but a magical barrier prevented him from crossing. He then remembered that in addition to being powerless, he was a prisoner. In rage, he punched the wall and only succeeded in hurting himself more.

Defeated, he sat on a sofa and it was at that precise moment when he had given up the idea of sleeping that he finally fell into the arms of Morpheus without realizing it.

oOoOoOo

He was once again in the hotel room. Even before turning around and seeing his red eyes, he knew he was there. Except this time, the young man had made way for a sorcerer with reptilian features much more similar to those of the sorcerer who had wreaked havoc in Diagon Alley.

So, you have thought about my offer.

Yes, I will do whatever you want. All I want in return is for you to help me save him.

Do you at least know who he is? Or rather what he is?

I don't care. I don't want him to die. Tell me what's wrong with him. Demanded Dark-Harry, gathering all his courage.

I have no idea. Or rather, I am afraid to guess. He is another you, dead in a distant universe and reincarnated here with the help of magic that surpasses the darkest black magic. My double had the same symptoms as him before disappearing into dust. Their presence at this time and place is a violation of the most fundamental rules of existence, and they are destined to disappear. Neither you nor I can do anything about it. It is already a miracle that this pitiful kid has been able to survive so long, while even my double didn't last more than a few hours.

So you have nothing to offer me. I'll manage on my own. Replied Dark-Harry as he processed the information.

Are you sure about that? He is condemned, but not you. Together, we could do great things. We could push the boundaries of magic.

Voldemort moved his hand and in front of him appeared a woman with red hair who looked at him tenderly, accompanied by a man with messy auburn hair.

Mom? Dad?

Yes, together, we could bring them back. Said Voldemort as the illusions vanished when Dark-Harry rushed towards them to embrace them.

You are the one who killed them. And now you're trying to make me believe that you want to bring them back. Go to hell.

Ah, ah, ah! Know that usually, I do not tolerate insolence. But you are special.

In what? You think I'm the only one miserable enough to believe your false promises.

On the contrary, it is exceptional that I meet someone who does not succumb to my charms. I think you greatly overestimate the intellectual capacities of most of the cockroaches that walk this earth. We are alike, you know. We were both victims of those wretches, just smart enough to understand the threat we represented and to unsuccessfully try to bring us down to their level. That's what your muggles saw in you and tried to break. What I tried to break. ButWhen I fought your double the other day, I understood my mistake. Your potential is immense and my only hope is not to fight it, but to help it develop. Let me stand by your side and you will show them all how infinitely superior you are to them.

The offer was tempting, but there would always be time to think about it later. For now, he wanted only one thing:

If you really are on my side, then give me a way to go to Hogwarts.

Dark-Harry watches Voldemort hesitate in silence.

Fine, but once you're there, you'll have to do something for me in return. It's nothing much, you'll see. He added, seeing Dark-Harry start to protest.

Betrayal

Harry Dursley emerged from a deep sleep. He tried to get up, but his body refused to obey him. He looked around and was surprised to find the place extremely familiar and restful. He searched his memory, but his head felt like it was made of cotton. Then he met two sparkling blue eyes, behind half-moon glasses that seemed to delve deep into his soul. He then felt his shields being violently attacked and concentrated with all his might to repel the attack.

Dumbledore then withdrew from his mind and exclaimed:

One could say that you didn't make my task easy.

Oh you see me sorry. Harry Dursley replied sarcastically, finally managing to recognize the Hogwarts infirmary. He tried once more to get up and realized he was tied to his bed. Meanwhile, Dumbledore continued to monologue without paying attention to either his escape attempts or his apparent distress.

You will be happy to learn that your little scheme worked perfectly. This preposterous story of a rat transformed into Peter Pettigrew who conveniently took advantage of the commotion caused by your fainting to escape has definitely convinced the Weasleys to host the real Harry at their home for as long as necessary.

I did not lie, Petter was really…Dumbledore magically imposed silence on him with a simple gesture from which all his power radiated.

Choosing to entrust the child to the Weasley clan was an extremely... bold choice. I myself would not have believed that they would betray me so easily. But, I suppose you didn't have many other options. After all, there aren't many wizarding families both capable of protecting him from my influence and sufficiently upright not to take advantage of him.

I didn't know the Weasleys had so much power. He said, bringing his hand to his temple and holding back a desire to vomit. Despite what seemed to have been a long nap, he felt on the verge of fainting.

Playing innocent will not win you my favor. Their rivalry with the Malfoys is well known and proves to everyone that they are not as destitute as their change in fortune might suggest. It's useless to try to make me believe that it's a coincidence you abandoned the child to the only member of the Sacred 28 likely to help you.

You are paranoid. Most people are just winging it, and even when there is a plan, usually after 5 minutes it needs to be thrown away. The world is just a series of poorly executed coincidences, not a battle between chess players.

And you, quite naive, if you really challenged Voldemort without even the beginning of a plan. Your recklessness could have caused his death and that of many innocents. Besides, as far as I know, he might already be doomed because of you.

My fault? You're the one who abandoned him with his watches.

Seeing that his accusations elicited no reaction from the old sage, he added, outraged:

You knew.

For any response, the director tried again to penetrate his mental defenses.

I knew that the treatment from his guardians was not ideal, but nothing that put his life in danger, and that's the main thing. Be sure that if I had had the slightest concern for his health, I would have acted immediately.

But what is wrong with you? He locked him in a cupboard, starved him, and beat him. How could you let that happen without questioning it? Harry Dursley exclaimed indignantly.

The director then exploded, almost shouting, his magic now out of control preventing him from breathing properly.

Who tells you that I don't constantly ask myself that? It has been years now that my nights are filled with insomnia from wondering if there might be a better choice, for him and the many other sacrifices that peace has demanded. Years that Fawkes refuses me his affection. But, I wake up every day with the certainty that I must continue. I am not the cold monster you seem to think. Clearly, you know nothing about me or the horrors of war, or you would understand that each of the difficult decisions I had to make will haunt me until the end of my days, but that this suffering is nothing compared to the misfortunes that will strike the world if no one assumes the responsibility to do what is necessary to thwart Lord Voldemort.

I am sorry. But if you had seen the way he was treating him. Even knowing the prophecy, I don't see what can justify leaving him at their mercy.

Before satisfying your curiosity, I'm afraid you must satisfy mine. Who are you and where do you come from? I have some hypotheses, but you'll understand my need to confirm them before entrusting my secrets to such a strange sorcerer. Even if he already seems to know the most important ones.

Harry Dursley hesitated for a moment before telling him the truth. But despite everything he had discovered, this Dumbledore resembled his own too much for him not to trust him. And in any case, he was at his mercy.

I am Harry Potter. As for where I come from, I don't know myself. From a parallel universe, I presume. All I know is that in my world, I died. I... I committed suicide to take Voldemort with me. It was horrible. All his horcruxes were destroyed, but he possessed me and he had the Deathly Hallows. So much blood, death, screaming...

Harry, breathe. Focus on my breathing. Dumbledore advised him with a worried look, casting spells of cheerfulness on him.

After a moment Harry Dursley calmed down and Dumbledore asked eagerly:

You are dead then. And after that? You found yourself in our world? Just like that? Without explanation?

No. Not immediately. Now it feels like a dream and I'm not really sure what happened anymore. Voldemort and I were on the other side. Or in a place between the two. I don't remember. All I remember is that everything was cold and dark. And yet I felt good. As if the place was clear and warm. I didn't quite understand what happened. At first, he was just a kind of hideous sleeping baby. But he still had the relics. I tried to take them back from him, but as soon as I approached him, he woke up and became whole again. And then, I'm not sure. I think I tried to fight him and he did a monologue that I don't remember anymore. He does that all the time, you know. He knows that every time I pretend to listen while looking for a way out.

Tom's arrogance is his greatest weakness.

My Dumbledore would no doubt have said that his greatest weakness was his inability to love.

An extremely wise being, if I may permit myself this excess of pride by proxy.

Yes. I miss him. I wish he were here so much.

If I may ask, how old were you when... At the time of your death.

14 years old.

The face of the old sorcerer suddenly sagged.

Almost 15. And you too were dead.

At my age, it's not a great tragedy. But let's continue. What happened next?

Then he used the relics to open a portal. He said that the relics had the power to change the universe because I had died several times. Then, as I refused to help him with his megalomaniac projects, he decided to teach me a lesson and wanted to force me through one of the portals. Then I don't quite remember why he panicked and lost control, and we both went through the portal. And I woke up at the Dursleys' in the body of my 10-year-old self. You know the rest of the story.

The essential elements in any case. Approved Dumbledore.

After a moment of silence where the director seemed to be thinking about what he had just learned, Harry Dursley asked:

Do you believe me?

Yes. Although improbable, your story is much less so than the recent events or the results of the tests that Pomfrey and I conducted on you to determine the cause of your discomfort.

After a moment, Harry asked anxiously:

What do I have?

To the great despair of the mediwizards who have taken turns at your bedside, I am pleased to inform you that according to our examinations you are in perfect health. And yet, over the past few hours, life was gradually leaving you without any of our treatments managing to even slow the decline of your vital signs. Then, for no apparent reason, a few hours ago the alarms sounded informing us that you had suddenly recovered. In our eyes, your affliction is just as mysterious as your recovery, and I had to deploy all my ingenuity to shield you from the curiosity of Pomfrey and Dr. Housser. I was hoping, moreover, that you could teach me more.

No, I have no idea what I have. Anyway, it's over. I'm better now. He said, looking critically at his extremely pale skin.

I imagine there is no good way to tell you this, so I'll be frank: I think you are going to die.

Again? Fortunately, we recover quickly. He tried to joke to mask the fear that was now piercing his stomach.

To be honest, I do not wish it for you. Postponing death is not without a price. Until your miraculous recovery, I was convinced that it was she who demanded her due. But above all, you risk not coming back alone.

Voldemort?

Yes. If it wasn't you who helped Voldemort get hold of the Resurrection Stone and use it to resurrect, then there's only one other possible culprit. And I'd rather not imagine the damage that two immortal Voldemorts could cause.

I don't know if I should thank you for your honesty or punch you in the face. Now tell me why you left my double to rot at the Dursleys'? If I'm going to die, there's little chance I'll tell anyone.

If I understand correctly, in your world that was not the case?

Yes, but in my world, the Dursleys loved me and treated me like their own son. And don't change the subject.

I am not changing the subject. I was just hoping that my double had found an effective alternative. Or failing that, that those glimpses you gave me of your story confirm the necessity of my choice.

He will not return to their place.

I'm afraid it's necessary. And in any case, you no longer have the means to oppose me.

Harry tried to protest but a bout of weakness forced him to lie back down (which only increased Harry's anger). Dumbledore continued as if nothing had happened:

What do you know about what happened on Halloween night? Or rather, what happened in your world?

Harry did not need him to specify which night he was talking about.

Voldemort tried to create a new horcrux, but it failed because of a protection spell created by my mother's sacrifice. The Avada meant to kill me and tear off a part of his soul that would become his new horcrux bounced back on him and ...

Harry Dursley then had a flashback of that moment 3 years earlier in the cemetery. He vividly relived Voldemort: 'I then felt my soul being torn away.'

A mysterious connection has been established between me and Voldemort, Harry said simply, fearing to understand what had really happened that day.

If by sacrificing him you could put an end to the war. Maybe even before it starts. What would you do?

He understood at that moment that his intuition was correct and interpreted the prophecy in a completely different way. Did his Dumbledore know? Probably, he thought, recalling his saddened expression when he mentioned his promise to 'free' him from his connection with Voldemort once all the Horcruxes were destroyed.

You raised him like a pig destined for the slaughterhouse. His well-being doesn't matter since he is destined to die anyway. He reproached both the Dumbledore in front of him and the memory he had of his own.

We all are, at different times of course, but the sentence is universal. However, unlike Voldemort, I do not believe that the transience of our sorrows and joys deprives them of all importance. If I understand correctly, you have felt in the depths of your being the malevolent power of Lord Voldemort. How can you even imagine that a mere baby could resist it?

My mother's love

His mother is dead and Lord Voldemort is still alive. To maintain the protection his mother gave him through her sacrifice and thus give him a chance not to meet the same fate as you, it is necessary for him to live in the home of his only living relative. Any removal would weaken the protection and put him in danger. And now that because of your actions Lord Voldemort is back more powerful than ever, it is even more necessary than before for him to return there. How much time do you think we have before he realizes the situation and tries to exploit it? Unless you help us defeat him. Where were the horcruxes in your world?

Is that the only thing that interests you? Defeating Voldemort. You don't care about him.

I thought it was clear that I do care. And that is precisely why I would do everything in my power to defeat him. The only question is: are you on my side or Voldemort's?

I am a Hufflepuff, once given, I do not withdraw my loyalty. I am in the camp of my double.

You are dying. We don't have time for this kind of subtlety.

On the contrary, it is because I am dying that I must ensure someone will defend his interests after my disappearance.

Helping her will not redeem the horrors you committed under Tom's influence.

Harry Dursley, deeply shocked by this last tirade, took a few seconds to check his occlumency shields and calm down, but Dumbledore added

I don't need to use Legilimency. You resemble me more than you want to admit and more than I would like. I too, when I was young, was ready to sacrifice everything for what I considered right. But after losing too much, I eventually understood that it is illusory to aim for the greatest good and that I had to settle for choosing the least bad.

Maybe you should hand over to someone less worn out by the war, he suggested with hostility.

At the risk of surprising you, I think you are right. It is not good for one man to concentrate so much power. Especially a man like me. And I would be more than happy to find someone to unload my burden onto. Unfortunately, I fear I have found no one with whom it would be wise to even share it.

A great man once told me that:The only way for men to achieve exceptional things is to work together. Given your record, I think the problem is not that the other wizards are less competent but that you do not see your own flaws.

Obviously the opinion of an idealist who has never had to exercise the reality of power. In truth, the people who are both deserving and willing to exerciseTo obtain any responsibility over the destiny of their community are very rare.

That man was you. Perhaps this difference in perspective and way of doing things has something to do with the fact that the Dursleys in my world ended up treating me properly.

Pure hypothesis refuted by the fact that your Dumbledore did not seem to have shared his secrets either. But I would prefer you to tell me why you specified: 'End'.

With hesitation, Harry Dursley replied:

I couldn't remember it, but I know that when I was very little at first my adoptive parents treated me as badly as the Dursleys of this world. I understood why you had to leave him there, but nothing forces you to watch passively as he gets tortured.

I tried to talk to them at first, but I could hardly attempt more without risking breaking the tenuous bond that united them. Even though she did everything to deny it, Petunia still retains some affection for her sister and her child. Without that, the spell would not have worked. And then, despite the increasingly alarming reports, I let myself get caught up in other problems.

You have an opportunity to correct your mistakes. He will not go back there. Harry stated.

For the moment, no. But eventually, there will be no other options. Nia Dumbledore.

There is another one: the Deathly Hallows. With their combined power, you will be able to send Voldemort to the other side of the veil without having to destroy his last horcrux...

I would not risk the survival of our entire community to save the life of a single person. I'm sorry, but in the end he will have to die. Anyway, if I believe the prophecy, neither of us will have a say in the matter.

I believe you are right about one thing: we are very much alike. And I am not the kind of man to blindly rely on a damn prophecy when it comes to protecting what we hold dear. Either you make the unbreakable vow to protect it, or I will not reveal the location of the horcruxes to you.

Think carefully. Are you really ready to face the consequences of your choice if things don't go as you planned? Don't forget that now that Tom knows about the Deathly Hallows, our time is limited. Are you sure your counterpart wouldn't prefer death to the fate that awaits him if your gamble fails? Besides, if I'm not mistaken, that's the choice you ended up making.

Harry Dursley would have liked to assure that no, but the truth was that death was a thousand times more preferable to this long agony made up of a kaleidoscope of massacres for which he was responsible and the powerless screams he uttered in his own head, alone and in the dark. He hesitated and maybe he would have ended up siding with the white mage's arguments if he hadn't felt his mind being violently invaded. The attack was subtle but Dumbledore put all his power into it so that he felt like his skull was going to explode. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, he withdrew.

I recognize Severus's work. Commented Dumbledore with obvious frustration in his voice while Harry was recovering with difficulty.

Dumbledore withdrew to gaze at the Hogwarts grounds through the window for a while, and Harry took the opportunity to regain his composure in silence.

I have always wondered if my inability to find the other horcruxes all these years was due to the prophecy or because I would be forced todo if I managed to destroy them all before Voldemort regained a corporeal form. If only we had a little more time. He could have grown enough to understand and accept the horrible truth. In exchange for the location and nature of the horcruxes, I agree to make the unbreakable vow not to harm him.

Harry Dursley added:

And not to send him back to the Dursleys without his consent or mine.

If he doesn't go back, then he won't be able to resist possession.

I spent almost a year at Hogwarts without it weakening my mother's protection. We have time to find an alternative solution.

Your Voldemort will have undoubtedly spoken to him about the connection. We must strengthen the protection as much as possible before he tries to exploit it. Against Dumbledore.

If Voldemort is aware of the horcrux residing in him, he will do everything to make it an ally and control it. At least if he thinks like mine. Sending him back to the Dursleys would only make it easier for him.

After a moment of reflection, Dumbledore nodded.

Alright, you convinced me. He will not return to their place. For now, he added at the end to temper his interlocutor's enthusiasm.

Don't worry, I am well aware that nothing is settled and that he may have to die. Harry Dursley replied grimly.

For any response, Dumbledore performed the Unbreakable Vow ritual and swore not to kill Dark-Harry.

Now it's your turn to uphold your end of the bargain.

Harry took a breath and weighed the pros and cons before deciding to confess what he knew to the old man:

There are a total of 6 horcruxes: First, there is his diary that he entrusted to the Malfoys, but I don't know where they hid it.

Dumbledore went to a painting and pushed it, revealing a safe with the Hogwarts crest whose magical protections were so strong that Harry flinched when they lowered after a long incantation by the headmaster. Once opened, he took out a black notebook that Harry Dursley would have recognized among a thousand.

Is it about this newspaper?

Yes, how did you do it?

A lot of money and years of perseverance open all doors. Especially in politics. It cost me extremely dearly but over the past few years I have been able to sufficiently weaken the position of Lucius and the other Death Eaters to force them to accept surprise inspections of their domain. And recently my efforts have finally borne fruit.

The beginning of the explanation reminded Harry of one of the reasons why he was angry with the headmaster.

Your money? Or the one you stole from my double? And from all the others?

According to the report I wrested from the goblin last night, I am not the only one here who has benefited from his generosity.

He agreed. I didn't steal it. Harry defended himself, suddenly remembering that he hadn't actually asked his opinion before helping himself.I have also committed no theft. Despite the goblins' dubious insinuations, I only used the proxies that their parents had granted me in good conscience.

This money was not meant to finance your political schemes but to ensure that their child would lack nothing.

Because you think there's a risk that what I left them might not be enough? Know that your double's vault is not the best filled. The Potters remain a minor family of the wizarding nobility.

Do not change the subject.

I am not changing the subject. What is better for them? To have yet another mountain of galleons they will never be able to spend, or to have an additional chance of surviving this war? In your opinion, what would their parents have chosen for them if they had the chance? Contrary to what you seem to think, I did not use this money for my personal enrichment or to obtain some prestigious position. I used it to improve the survival chances of your counterpart and the other children under my care. Among all the difficult choices I have had to make, this one weighs the least on my conscience and is the only one I would be ready to defend before their parents the day I meet them on the other side. Argued Dumbledore with the conviction of a well-rehearsed lawyer.

After a moment of silence, Harry declared:

I am still not comfortable with that.

And I am not comfortable with the fact that your arrival coincides with when I destroyed this horcrux, which I hoped, without really believing it, to be the only one. On the other hand, I am happy to see that the Voldemorts of both worlds seem to have been similar enough to choose the same objects and hide them in the same place.

The coincidence also struck Harry, but as he felt himself weakening and didn't know what to do with this information, he decided to continue:

Then there is: the diadem of Ravenclaw which is hidden in the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts. You just have to ask it for a place to hide an object and the room where the diadem is hidden will appear. The only problem is that I can't remember exactly where it is stored in all that clutter.

I cannot say that I am particularly surprised that he was arrogant enough to hide one of his precious horcruxes in my domain. However, I am annoyed to find that he managed to know it better than I do. I have never heard of this Room of Requirement.

I will show you.

He tried to get up from his bed, but even without the restraints that still held him, he would have collapsed. His strength was leaving him quickly, and this worried him.

It will get better with a little rest. Just finish and tell me the location of the other horcruxes. Dumbledore asked with an eagerness that convinced Harry Dursley to be wary of this Dumbledore. However, he had no choice but to collaborate with him.

She is on the third floor, right in front of the tapestry depicting a wizard trying to teach orcs to dance. You must pass by it three times while thinking about what you want, and it will appear. The house-elves know this room and can lead you there. There is only one simple Horcrux left to reach: Salazar Slytherin's locket. It is located in a room at 12 Grimmauld Place, the house of Sirius Black.

Indeed, this one should not be too difficult to destroy. Commented Dumbledore.

Then there is the Hufflepuff cup. It is in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault at Gringotts. But the hardest to obtain will be the Gaunt ring. Or rather the Resurrection Stone set in it. Yes, you understood correctly: he hastransformed one of the Deathly Hallows into a Horcrux. Now that he knows its true power, he would not part with it, not even to sleep.

This is unfortunate. But from now on, none of this concerns you anymore. Somnius!

And Harry Dursley fell back into unconsciousness.

oOoOoOo

Still in shock from what he had just learned, Dark-Harry pressed himself against the wall of the small infirmary room where Harry Dursley was lying until the horrible old man went off to continue his scheming elsewhere.

Once alone again, he removed his invisibility cloak and draped it over his double from another world, and after this last effort, he collapsed into a chair beside him, then tried to put some order into the storm of emotion and thought that had taken hold of him. How could things have gone so wrong in such a short time?

At first, everything had gone well. With the help of that Wormtail that Voldemort had sent him, he had been able to discreetly escape from the Weasleys' home before dawn and make his way to an abandoned building reeking of wild animal located near Hogwarts with the portkey-thingamajig. Then Wormtail had escorted him through a secret passage leading to Hogwarts until he violently hit an invisible wall and whined that the protections of Hogwarts would prevent him from going further. Harry left him, not forgetting to cast a look of disdain at this miserable man who had played an important role in the death of his parents (even if he hadn't understood what a secret keeper was or why it was so important).

One day, he and Voldemort would pay for the years he had spent with the Dursleys because of them. But for now, he needed them, and the tricks from Dudley's gang had taught him patience and control over his emotions far advanced for his age. Even if an opportunity arose, he would not act before having a complete view of the chessboard he had just landed on. The conversation he had just overheard only confirmed that he urgently needed to learn more about the wizarding world.

On the other hand, he was no longer as sure that he could rely entirely on his double.Certainly the conversation he had just overheard and the discovery that they were in some way of the same family had dispelled his last doubts about the loyalty of his double. However, his lack of combativeness worried him. He had so easily given up the information their enemy was asking for. He had settled for a mere promise not to harm him.

But above all, he had accepted with far too much ease for his liking the prospect of his own death. He hadn't even gotten upset, hadn't sought any solution, and had accepted the prospect calmly. As if deep down he had always known it or that death wasn't so terrible. He was terrified to the point of almost revealing his presence when he realized the director wanted to see him dead. He had tried to understand why his double seemed to think he was doomed and sought a solution at all costs. Instead, his double had calmly negotiated his support for a war that didn't concern them and for a side that wanted to see him dead.

Whatever his double might think, he had made his choice: he would not die before having the opportunity to exact his revenge. If he really had to choose a side, then between the murderer of his parents just wanting toImprison him (according to his double), and the so ineffective protector of his parents wanting to kill him, then he would have no hesitation. And in his eyes, the fact that he wanted to target the Muggles was just an appreciable bonus.

Initially, he had planned to betray Voldemort after he had helped him access Hogwarts. He intended to use the cloak to kidnap his double and take him abroad, away from this war, to allow him to recover with the best doctors that the mountain of gold he possessed would allow him to afford.

However, once he had made sure that his double was breathing regularly, he left the room hoping it was not a coincidence that he felt better the moment he covered him with the cloak and that once again it would heal him.

He, in the meantime, went to carry out the mission that Voldemort had entrusted to him, hoping that it would weaken the old man enough for him to cease being a threat.

Disgrace

At this late hour, nothing was moving in Albus Dumbledore's office. It was almost midnight, and the day's frantic activity had long since subsided. Then something moved almost imperceptibly. The water cooler, forgotten in a corner for ages, swiveled, raising a thin drainage pipe that slowly expanded.

Once the opening was large enough, he entered the room with all the calm and silence of a predator on the hunt. He tasted the cold air of the silent room, only illuminated by the moonlight reflecting off the many silver objects that overloaded the room with their incessant clinking.

His tongue indicated the presence of several prey futilely trying to escape his presence. How good it was to be hunting again after all these years. He opened his mouth, preparing to swoop down on his prey.

— Arcanoru, leave his spiders.He ordered sharply the half two legs that accompanied him.

Instinctively, he straightened up and bared his fangs in the direction of the little snake who, not content with giving him orders, was striving to play with the food.

Why had the son of his beloved father given him such a disgraceful mission as to obey the two legs who loved spiders? Hadn't he served him well? What had he done to incur the wrath of his human brother? Perhaps he should have insisted more for him to abandon his plan to attack the half two legs who now inhabited the nest his father had spent so many years building with 3 other humans?

Nevertheless, Arcanoru did not complain. It had been so long since any traveler had whispered the name his father had chosen for him. So long that he thought the memories of that time when he hunted together were forgotten. That time when he did not know hunger.

— Never again dare to get in the way of my hunt.Arcanoru replied by flexing his muscles ostentatiously in a position suggesting he was about to pounce.

He had just arrived and already, the large room was saturated with his scents of fear. Nevertheless, he answered her with feigned arrogance.

— Just carry out the orders of your master, stupid creature.

Such impudence at such a young age made him want to lift his eyelids and gaze at him for a better examination. But the coded message his brother had sent him through that spider enthusiast was clear: he was not to attack the human under any pretext and was to keep his eyes closed in his presence. At first, he thought this slight handicap would only add spice to the hunt his brother had entrusted him with. But the human proved to be much more bothersome than the loss of his two eyes. In addition to being outrageously sensitive, he was so noisy that he hadn't had the chance to feed on a few rats that swarmed in the sewer network enchanted by his father to expand upon his arrival and thus allow him to reach any part of the castle.

— Why do you protect its creatures? What do you hope to gain from an alliance with such weak prey?

— You don't need to know. Leave them alone, that's all.

—If you do not choose your allies better, you will quickly become prey in turn.

— I am already prey and we are in the lair of my predator. Stay focused.Replied Dark-Harry by taking one of the spiders and putting it permanently out of reach of the giant serpent. The serpent was right, it was stupid, but it reminded him of Spider and Spidey (the two semi-tamed spiders that kept him company in the cupboard under the stairs).

After hissing at him one last time in a threatening manner, the snake turned its back on him and moved into the room, until it passed under the threshold of a door that Harry guessed to be the bedroom of the old man who had sworn his downfall.

For a moment, Dark-Harry was tempted to stop it once more. This was not the plan. At least not the plan that Lord Voldemort had communicated to him (every time he thought about it, Dark-Harry found the name ridiculous and wondered what mother had been cruel enough to call her son that). Once he had opened the way to the headmaster's office via the magic that allowed him to enlarge the pipes, the giant serpent was supposed to stay by his side while he searched the office for the headmaster's wand, then take him back outside before anyone noticed his intrusion. However, the moment was already stressful enough without adding the constant watch of a hungry giant serpent.

To say that he had considered it the most beautiful moment of his life, that moment when Voldemort had shown him how to speak to his snake Nagini. It was his first act of conscious magic after all. His joy had been further enhanced when he had promised him that if he followed his orders, he could soon command his own snake. A snake much larger and more dangerous than Nagini.

He now understood that the dark mage must have suspected that he hesitated to obey him and had only lied to lure him. As he had said earlier to the basilisk, he was just prey that had stupidly thrown itself into the middle of a predator's lair.

From the moment at its call, the monster had slowly slipped out of the mouth of the immense statue hidden in the depths of the castle, there was no longer any question of doubting and even less of changing one's mind. If he dared to try to escape or disobey the true master of Arcanoru, the serpent would crush him between its coils before he even had time to call for help.And now that he was thinking about it, he seriously doubted that the dark mage would keep his promise to give him his wand in exchange for the director's.

He should have stayed with the Weasleys as his double had wanted. With tears in his eyes, he began as quietly as possible to open all the drawers, hoping that all this would soon be over.

oOoOoOo

Through the partition, he heard the half-two-legs begin to search the room. Good! Despite his brother's strict orders, if he had hesitated once more, Arcanoru did not know if he could have restrained himself from sinking his fangs into the tender flesh of his brother's annoying servant. Fortunately for the little serpent, he had an even greater source of irritation within reach.

Arcanoru stuck out his tongue and sniffed the air in search of prey. Apart from his target, the room seemed empty, and slowly, he opened his eyelids and his deadly gaze fell on the old man who was dozing in his bed, weak, fragile, and vulnerable. Despite the time that had passed, he had the same scent as the man who had forced his brother to abandon him, thus condemning him to return to sleep alone in the dark.

Cautiously, he advanced, fearing with each push from his powerful muscles that he might cross one of those invisible barriers or trigger one of those annoying alarms that the two-legged ones liked to create with their stick to give themselves an illusion of security. But there was nothing. The man, it seemed, blindly trusted the castle's protections.

'His father's protections,' thought Arcanoru painfully, recalling the many evenings Salazar had spent developing them and complaining to his familiar about the inability of his three companions to help him develop magic as subtle as the castle's protections.

Arcanoru began to move more quickly, confident in the fact that his father's magic could never harm him. Very soon, he was close enough to clearly distinguish each part of his body rising regularly with the rhythm of rapid breathing and some groaning. His brother's Nemesis seemed to have a restless sleep, as if suspecting it might be his last. Arcanoru straightened up and prepared to strike. This time neither Tom nor that Harry was there to prevent him from quenching his thirst for fresh blood.

oOoOoOo

For what seemed like the umpteenth time, Dark-Harry jumped.

Is there someone? he murmured, but once again only silence answered him.

He abandoned the drawer he was rummaging through anyway, he was sure the wand wasn't there. Instead, he wrapped himself in a plaid blanket lying in a corner and then sneezed, realizing it was covered in cat hair. Curious, it didn't seem to him that the director had a pet, he was surprised. Nevertheless, what really worried him was that despite the stifling heat that had unusually descended on the United Kingdom for the past few weeks, he was freezing. He rubbed his hands together and for the first time, he heard it clearly.

— The cold is in you.

Arcanoru, it's you. He tried to respond to the hissing voice, but he realized once the words had crossed his lips that he had spoken normally.

— Arcanoru, we know this name.

Who are you?

Simple tools, on the path to greatness.

Harry let out a sigh of relief upon understanding

I need to find a baguette. Can you help me?

We can help you get much more than a baguette.

For now, I just want to find this damn wand and get out of here.

Your heart yearns for much more. Join us and we will offer you power.

The power to avenge yourself.

The power to never run away again

Harry was not stupid. Moreover, whenever he could, he had deliberately slowed the pace of his evening chores in order to listen to Petunia read his story to Dudley (he never understood why Petunia never stopped him, but it suited him) and it was never a good idea for the heroes of his stories to listen to mysterious voices promising them power. Once again, true power, the one he sought, is conquered, not given.

Despite the voices that continued to echo in his head, Harry resumed his search by opening one of the many drawers, but only found old photo albums mostly showing two men holding hands on the English moor. He slammed the drawer shut when he accidentally came across some photos that were too personal.

He no longer had time, he had to hurry. Seized by sudden panic, he began to search frantically everywhere without realizing that the cold was becoming more and more intense and the voices louder and louder. If only he could silence them for a few minutes, he could concentrate and think. He tried to cover his ears, but they resonated even louder. Then suddenly everything stopped. He blinked and realized he was standing in front of a large glass cabinet with his hand reaching out to grasp the handle. He couldn't remember how he had gotten there. He pressed his nose against the glass and saw inside three magnificent objects that seemed to call to him from the depths of his soul. For some mysterious reason, he felt as if they belonged to him. He tried to hold back, but his urge was too strong. He needed that cup, that diadem, and that necklace.

He lowered the cabinet handle, unleashing hell on the once so calm room.

oOoOoOo

Arcanoru closed his eyes to savor the moment and plunged toward the jugular of his prey when an atrocious noise rang out. Immediately, he felt the half two legs wake up and release a violent wave of raw magic that pushed him and all the surrounding objects back until they violently hit the wall and passed through it. Slowly, he got up amidst the wooden and concrete debris of what had been the director's office. 'Fortunately, I had my eyes closed, or the violent explosion would have blinded me,' he thought, examining two sharp stakes that had stopped less than a millimeter from his precious pupils.

But he didn't have time to worry more about his injuries as the two-legs were already advancing toward him, radiating power and a deadly aura. Arcanoru's tongue quivered with excitement as he watched the two-legs raise his hand and draw a long wooden staff to him. At last, the hunt was becoming interesting.

Without worrying further about his surroundings, he rushed at his prey.

oOoOoOo

Dark-Harry painfully got up, spitting out dust and not understanding what had happened. One minute earlier, everything was calm, and now he was spitting out dust amidst debris while dull noises were heard next to him. Dazed, he looked around and saw that all the furniture in the room seemed smashed except for the cabinet, which still contained the three objects and appeared miraculously intact. He felt their call again and tried to reach out to them when he felt another force violently push him backward. Without being able to resist, he was dragged across half the room until he found himself pressed against purple robes that he immediately recognized.

He swallowed and looked up at the sky and discovered the face of Albus Dumbledore watching him sternly.

We will discuss later. For now, stay behind me.

Hardly had he finished his sentence when a violent golden light shot out of his wand and narrowly missed the head of the basilisk, which was bleeding slightly. The wand he had promised to bring back to Voldemort.

He did not have time to examine it further when the director made a strange gesture with his hand and his eyes were covered with a sort of dark veil similar to sunglasses that blurred his vision.

It will protect you. If only Fawkes hadn't left me.

Dark-Harry held back from yelling at him that he was not as naive as his counterpart and knew he would kill him the moment he no longer needed to please his counterpart to get information. He watched for a few seconds the violent confrontation between the basilisk and the old wizard.

oOoOoOo

Understanding that his gaze was ineffective against his opponent, Arcanoru attempted a deadly charge that he had to deflect at the last moment to avoid a black lightning produced by the old two-legs' staff. Normally, Arcanoru would have trusted his thick skin to deflect the curse, but the aura of cruelty surrounding the spell left him no doubt about the nature of the curse. The old two-legs dared to use his father's dark inventions against him.

He let out what most resembled a cry of rage and freed himself from the debris of the only wall still intact that he had smashed through while trying to avoid the spell determined to make him pay for his outrage against the old two-legged one. But he had barely had this thought when he had to hastily dodge another series of spells, each darker and more powerful than the last, which he narrowly avoided at the cost of injuring his body already scratched by the numerous debris scattered in this room far too narrow for him. Arcanoru was beginning to wonder who was truly the prey.

Experliarmus. Did he hear the high-pitched voice of a two-legged creature scream, before a white flash hit his opponent. Having completely erased from his mind thepresence of Harry, Arcanoru did not quite understand what had happened, however, he noticed the two-leg's stick escape from his hand to fly to the other end of the room. He didn't waste a second to rush at the now disarmed old man.

oOoOoOo

Despite his exhaustion, Dark-Harry ran breathlessly, the Elder Wand in his hand, exulting with joy. The effort had nearly made him faint, but his hours of practicing the first spell taught by the beginner's defense manual he had found at the Weasleys' had finally paid off. He had cast his real first spell and hadn't even needed a wand for it.

Once he recovered from his surprise, realizing that the much-coveted wand was in his hand, he fled down the stairs of the tower, half-destroyed by the shocks caused by the titanic battle taking place at the top, without a backward glance at the old man now far too troubled to follow him.

Once he reached the bottom, he had to stop in front of a stone gargoyle blocking access to the exit. Overflowing with confidence from his first success, he tried the only spell he knew again. But this time, it wasn't a faint white flash that escaped, but a light so bright he briefly thought he had gone blind. When he regained his sight, he saw that the gargoyle lay shattered at the other end of the smashed corridor. Unlike the first time, he felt in great shape. The spell, far from draining him, had filled him with energy, and he felt his magic crackling around him. Unable to help himself, he let out a cry of joy.

From now on, he was no longer a defenseless little boy. Then his cry turned into laughter when he heard a scream of pain that seemed to belong to the old wizards who had ruined his life. How sweet revenge was.

On the way to death

STAND UP!

Harry Dursley woke up with a start. The small room adjoining the infirmary where he was supposed to be was plunged into darkness, except for two bloodshot eyes staring at him with hatred. He tried to escape and realized with horror that he was paralyzed by an enormous magical pressure on the verge of crushing his bones.

What’s gotten into you? We’re on the same side. Harry Dursley managed to whisper despite the magical pressure suffocating him.

Do you really hope to gain my trust once again? I have been patient enough with you. Tell me immediately where the Elder Wand is, and maybe I will agree to listen to your ramblings before locking you up in a place where I am sure you will no longer harm anyone.

But you're crazy. How am I supposed to know where you put your damn wand? I've been here all day. Argued Harry inNoting that the director's clothes were torn and that a large scar now crossed his leg.

Stop this charade immediately, or I will have to resort to far less civilized methods. Responded the director in a threatening tone. Growing more and more panicked, Harry replied.

Since I'm telling you that I don't know anything about it. All I remember is... You bewitched me! Accused Harry Dursley, recalling his last moments of consciousness.

Not enough apparently. Endolo...

But before the director could finish his incantation, a red flash illuminated the room and a magnificent bird landed on Harry Dursley's chest.

Fawkes! Exclaimed the director, tears in his eyes, as he let his magic fall.

Immediately, Harry felt immense relief and clung to the bird as if his life depended on it, then it began to sing. Gradually, the magnificent song calmed Harry Dursley, who began to slowly stroke the legendary bird. The headmaster also tried to approach the bird, but it then stopped its song and pushed him away with a peck.

Fawkes, why did you come back for this boy after abandoning me all these years?

Are you really asking the question? Are you blind or what? You tried to torture me. Harry blurted out, but the director ignored him and continued to address the bird.

Everything I did was necessary. You know that, don't you? I really did my best all these years.

The bird responded by producing a strange sound again. It wasn't really a song, but it was undeniably beautiful and it stirred a mix of contradictory emotions in Harry Dursley. A confused mix of regret, attachment, and something else that Harry couldn't identify, which made him uncomfortable. Then tears welled up in his eyes when he understood the meaning of what he felt: forgiveness. Absolute forgiveness for everything he had done. But that's not what the director felt, because he got angry again.

Why can't you forgive me?

I believe it's you who can't forgive yourself. And that's normal since you can't even admit what you've done. What you've become. Stated Harry in a voice soothed by the powers of the Phoenix.

How dare you judge me? You know nothing of war and the sacrifices it demands. Shouted Dumbledore.

I know them better than anyone and you are right, I have no right to judge you. However, I notice that you didn't even hesitate before casting the Cruciatus Curse. Since when has the Cruciatus Curse become a habit for you?

Dumbledore reacted as if he had just been struck, then asked more calmly.

If you are telling the truth, then how did you acquire the cloak of death?

What are you talking about?

Dumbledore then took a long silver cloak out of his pocket that Harry Dursley immediately recognized.

The cloak! It's Dark-Harry, I mean my double who had it. Where is he? What did you do to him?

I should have suspected it. He escaped from the Weasleys to come see you. But he could never have succeeded alone.

He might surprise you. That kid has resourcefulness.

Or else he is being manipulated by Voldemort. That's what I feared from the start, you...

Don't even think about trying to pin this on me. It was your responsibility to ensure they were well treated. You refused to ask for help when it became clear you wouldn't manage.

If you don't mind, we'll discuss later whose fault it is. Can you get up? We need to find him.

Yes, I believe so. I feel like I've regained my strength. Harry Dursley replied as he stood up.

Strange. Commented Dumbledore while looking at the cloak before heading into the corridors and Harry Dursley followed him (making sure to stay a few steps behind).

Could you now explain to me what is happening and why you look like you've been beaten up?

While continuing to walk, Dumbledore explained to him:

Despite the protections, your double somehow managed to introduce a basilisk into my quarters. I don't know how Voldemort acquired this creature or made it obey him. In any case, the basilisk tried to kill me. Fortunately, the alarm I set on the Horcruxes went off before it killed me in my sleep. As you can imagine, it was not the most pleasant awakening I've had to endure in my life. After engaging in combat, I noticed the presence of your double, whom I mistook for you. I used my magic to shield him behind me, but he cast an Expelliarmus without a wand. Once he committed his theft, he fled, condemning me to certain death against the basilisk. Fortunately, as if alerted by my imminent death, Fawkes returned from exile to heal my wound and distract it while I retrieved my old wand.

Harry Dursley stopped dead in front of the shocking information Dumbledore had just thrown at him. But the first question he asked was:

Horcruxes? How long did you put me to sleep? Asked Harry, as the anger rose in him again now that Fawkes was no longer there to calm him.

Before answering, Dumbledore sighed:

Just after Voldemort's attack on Diagon Alley, under the pretext of a surprise inspection visit of the security measures, I went to Azkaban to neutralize the most dangerous Death Eaters. Quite conveniently, Sirius had not revised his will since his incarceration, so Harry is still the sole beneficiary. Moreover, with the not entirely informed consent of my dear friend Lucius a few years ago, I quite conveniently had the inheritance rules in the wizarding world modified, particularly in cases where a lineage would die out without a direct heir. As a result, as head of the Black house, Sirius inherited the Lestrange vault through his sister Bellatrix Lestrange née Black, and your double inherited it in turn. In short, I only had to pull a few strings so that my status as guardian allowed me to intervene in the goblins' handling of the succession.

Harry was afraid to understand what he meant by that, but his expression left no doubt.

No, but you are crazy! Sirius was innocent.

That remains to be proven. Your parents assured me that he had chosen him as the secret keeper.

Maybe they had finally understood that you cannot be trusted.

Or more prosaically, perhaps he was afraid that I might accidentally reveal their secret to the spy who had infiltrated our ranks. Nevertheless, the choice to entrust their security to someone as weak as Pettigrew seems utterly absurd to me. Furthermore, I do not think he had the skills or intelligence necessary to deceive me for so long. Not to mention that he would have had to manage to trap Sirius Black and mystify all the witnesses of their confrontation. Finally, I do not see how Sirius would have ended up in possession of one of Voldemort's Horcruxes if he were not one of his most loyal lieutenants. No, perhaps the Sirius of your world was innocent, but mine was definitely guilty.

Who are you trying to convince? Me or your conscience? He asked, coughing violently.

Gently, you should take it easy. Said Dumbledore softly, handing him a handkerchief.

But Harry Dursley pushed him away.

I will not ally myself with a psychopathic murderer to defeat another.

And I will do what is necessary to ensure that my world does not meet the same fate as yours. Even if you are right, Sirius, like all the others, has his share of innocent blood on his hands. And he was fully aware of the stakes and risks when he committed to becoming one of my pawns. He was by no means an innocent to be protected and knew that I might have to sacrifice him one day.

You could have had him released. Reopen the trial.

It would have taken too much time. And even then, only if I managed to do it. There are far too many prominent personalities, starting with the minister himself, who would be too embarrassed to reopen the case of post-war management and the parody trials that marked it. And I'm not even talking about the public opinion terrified by your little stunt on the bypass and who would be outraged at the prospect of releasing an alleged Death Eater. In another context, I would probably have chosen this route, but I can't wait several years for the procedure to come to an end.

There had to be another way.

Which one? Anyway, we'll have plenty of time to argue about it once we've found your double. After his theft, he's probably going to try to leave the estate. Do you have any idea how he plans to do it?

I don't even know how he managed to get in. And even if I knew, I'm starting to wonder if I should really tell you.

Do you think he will be safer when he is at the mercy of Voldemort? Think about it, have you discussed Hogwarts? Or a place where he could take refuge? In short, don't you have a way to find him?

No, I never talked to him about Hogwarts, well, I don't think so. Anyway, I don't know any secret passage that allows leaving Hogwarts. If he weren't so young, I would ask Fred and Ge... I know the Marauder's Map.

The what?

But instead of answering the director's question, Harry frantically searched his pocket.

Where is my baguette?

Dumbledore took a wand made of holly wood from his pocket that Harry recognized among a thousand. Harry grabbed it with an angry gesture.

You are lucky we're in a hurry. Accio Marauder's Map!

After a few seconds of waiting that were a torment, an old parchment flew towards Harry. After thanking Merlin that Filch was a Squib and thus unable to protect the objects he had confiscated against magic, he swore that his intentions were bad and immediately a map of Hogwarts appeared. He had no trouble spotting in the completely empty castle the only points corresponding to living beings, including one running in the Forbidden Forest towards the boundaries of the estate's protections.

Without wasting more time in discussion, they started running in his direction hoping it wasn't too late. However, even though he knew it wasn't the right moment, Harry couldn't help but reproach in a breathless voice from the run:

All the same, I do not appreciate the ease with which you get rid of people.

War is cruel and does not distinguish between the innocent and the guilty.

But here, we are at peace.

Really? Does what happened 3 days ago on Diagon Alley look like peace to you?

It has nothing to do with it.

And do you think that the former Death Eaters still at large suddenly gave up their idea after Voldemort's defeat? That the hundreds of fanatical soldiers under his command all ended up behind bars and that only reasonable people who followed him out of fear or interest remain free? That after so many years of war and violence on all sides, they simply decided to turn the page, forgive their adversaries, and renounce the use of violence?

Maybe you haven't really tried to move on either?

I think I am better positioned than you to know. You know nothing of my world.

They cannot be worse than those in my world, and mine took the opportunity offered to them to renounce violence. Well, almost, Harry conceded, thinking back to the episode of the Chamber of Secrets and Lucius's temporary takeover of Hogwarts.

Trust my experience, there is always worse.

Then they stopped talking, out of breath from their run. They had just arrived at the edge of the forbidden forest. They entered the sinister forest in silence, moving as quickly as the dense vegetation allowed.

oOoOoOo

Dark-Harry was running as fast as possible without caring about the direction he was taking. Anyway, it had been a long time since he knew where he was. He stopped for a few seconds to catch his breath. A branch snapped, something was coming. Was it his imagination or were eyes staring at him in the darkness? He jumped violently. Something had just brushed against his leg.

Harry, calm down. It was just an animal, he said out loud to try to reassure himself.

At first, he had run straight ahead to get as far away as possible from the castle and the old cabin where Voldemort's servant was waiting for his return. Then he had to take a detour to go around a cliff.

Then yet another time when he had to hide in a rush from a monstrous ogre hunting in the bushes. Finally, he kept telling himself it was an ogre so as not to feel stupid, but in truth, he hadn't taken the time to find out what the monstrous beast was that made all that noise as it walked in his direction. Then, with twists and turns, he got completely lost in the immense forest. A forest that would soon be filled with police or servants of the dark mage determined to punish him for what he had done.

However, at that moment, he almost hoped they would find him. He was alone, he was cold, and he had to admit to himself that he was completely lost. Without being able to help it, he began to cry softly, calling out to his double for help. However, it had been years since he accepted that no one would ever come to his rescue.

Even though at that moment it seemed to him to be nothing more than a fragile, useless piece of wood, to give himself courage, he tightened his grip on his wand and moved forward.

oOoOoOo

Why not destroy the Horcruxes immediately after finding them? That would have avoided all this. Harry asked after Dumbledore had told him in more detail what had happened earlier in his office to break the heavy silence filled with suspicions that had settled between them while he was searching the area of the Forbidden Forest outside the limits of the Marauder's Map where the traces of dark-Harry had led them.

Because even if everyone seems to make great efforts to ignore it, I am getting older. Finding them and neutralizing their protection exhausted me. Not to mention the thousands of other tasks that fall to me and that I cannot postpone if I want this country to survive another day. I thought it was safer to rest before undertaking their destruction. I have no trouble admitting that it was not my most brilliant decision. But don't worry about them anymore. Before leaving my office, I took the time to take some basilisk fangs to destroy them. Let me know sooner if you noticed a detail that I might have missed and that could help us find it?

Harry thought for a few seconds before answering.

I still have no idea what he's doing. Besides, if I believe the convoluted path he decided to take, he's just as lost as we are. Unless it's your tracking spell that's messing up?

I doubt that he has the magical skills to disrupt my spell. Nevertheless, I would never have believed that he would reach such a level of mastery of his magic at such a young age.

I bet he's the youngest wizard in history to achieve it. Harry declared proudly.

No, there was another one. Dumbledore said somberly.

From your tone, I bet I don't want to know, but who was it?

Voldemort. According to the memories I extracted from the nuns who took care of him, at 8 years old, he used magic to hang the pet rabbit of one of the few children in the orphanage who was not yet afraid of him from a beam.

I knew that I didn't want to know. Since we're confessing things we'd rather ignore, I know where he got that basilisk: in the Chamber of Secrets.

The Chamber of Secrets is a myth.

Did you think about searching the girls' bathroom? Harry replied ironically.

Never the great Salazar…

He was above all a great pervert.

And a great strategist. Thinking back, using good manners to achieve his ends was very much his style. After all, it's the last place I would have looked for the entrance to his secret laboratory and his most dangerous secrets.

What are you talking about?

Have you ever wondered why it was called the Chamber of Secrets? Or why Salazar would have built a place to threaten the school he took so long to build?

No, but I feel that you are dreaming of telling me and we have time. Replied Harry, who smiled as he finally found in this Dumbledore an attitude that reminded him of his own.

In reality, like most myths surrounding Hogwarts, the story of the Chamber of Secrets has been distorted over time to fit the moral or, in our case, political imperatives of the moment. Salazar was a man of his time and it would never have occurred to him to differentiate people according to their race. Or rather, and this is where the misunderstanding arose, the notion of race in the Middle Ages primarily referred to social classes. When Salazar or his contemporaries wrote that he wanted to forbid Hogwarts to those of impure blood, he was thinking of commoners. For this medieval aristocrat, the handling of weapons should be reserved for the nobility, lest their society fall into complete anarchy.

So he created the chamber to chase away commoners? That's not much better.

No, he resigned from his position to protest against the decision of his three friends to open Hogwarts to all wizards without distinction of rank or wealth. But years before, he would have or rather he did, if I believe what you say, create the chamber to conduct his most dangerous experiments, and then he placed a monster there so that only a sufficiently worthy heir could access it. The monster is a guardian and not the instrument of an improbable ethnic cleansing. Then in the 19th century, the industrial, scientific, and political revolutions led to an increase in the number of Muggles and consequently Muggle-borns. Muggle-borns imbued with new ideas that challenged the old hierarchies of the wizarding world, particularly the predominance of its nobility. The reaction was swift, and very quickly hate and rejection speeches spread, which soon materialized into acts of barbaric violence within Hogwarts itself against Muggle-born students.

And at that time, as in ours, to face this kind of tragedy, our society needs more of an explanation than truth. Thus, all sorts of convoluted theories spread in the student society. When the dawn investigation began to point to the responsibility of a group of students from powerful and ancient noble families, the good society started using all its means to spread one of its theories: these murders would have been committed by the monster of the Chamber of Secrets after the victims had offended the memory of the great Salazar.

Practical, myths cannot defend themselves.

You misunderstand me. This explanation was not chosen to shift the blame onto the monster, but onto the victims. It is they who by theirContempt for ancient customs would have caused their end. In any case, from that date, with each wave of violence against Muggle-borns at Hogwarts, purists have taken the habit of accusing a modified version of the myth to better correspond to the imperatives of the moment. Thus, when a century later, Tom targeted the Muggle-borns, no member of the teaching staff, myself included, believed in the existence of the Chamber of Secrets. Throughout all these years, I thought he had used a dark magic unknown to me to bring this myth to life and thus convince the proud pure-bloods of his year to accept as leader the poor orphan with dubious origins that he was then.

What was he hiding in the room? Do you think it's still there?

I doubt it. Tom will have erased the secrets of the chamber after acquiring them. It's a shame, historians specializing in the founders' era are convinced that in addition to the results of his dark magic experiments, Salazar had hidden his best healing spells there. And notably a healing routine so powerful that it could repair the damage caused by dark magic.

I would never have imagined Salazar inventing healing spells.

This should not surprise you. Before the heirs of Salazar tarnished his reputation, he was celebrated for the many healing potions he invented. Moreover, the serpent he made his emblem is an almost universal symbol of medicine. Even today, it can be found on the front of Muggle pharmacies. Parseltongue is not a curse condemning its owner to delve into dark magic, but a blessing that its previous holders used to obtain snake venom essential for concocting many remedies. Besides, have you ever wondered why some wizards can talk to snakes and not to other animals closer to humans like dogs? Many believe that Parseltongue appeared thanks to the close ties our shaman ancestors had with these creatures, in order to obtain useful ingredients. Over generations, thanks to this proximity, some naturally developed this talent and the laws of evolution did the rest.

oOoOoOo

This time Dark-Harry was sure he hadn't been dreaming. He was sure that something was moving in his direction. He threw himself behind a rock and prayed that the approaching thing wouldn't find him. Then an unsettling silence fell over the Forbidden Forest. All of a sudden, the various animal noises that inhabited it stopped. How he wished he still had the invisibility cloak at that moment. What had gotten into him to run away without even trying to retrieve it? Without even worrying about what would become of his double. But what was wrong with him? Petunia was right, he deserved to be all alone.

Then he heard a steady noise coming in his direction. He chased away his insecurities from his thoughts and focused on listening to his surroundings. It was the sound of footsteps moving confidently through the gloomy forest. The footsteps of two people who were talking in low voices as if to better surprise him. Harry shrank back a little more if that was possible, but the footsteps seemed to be coming in his direction. As if they knew where he was. He mentally repeated to himself that it wasn't possible, in order to force himself to stay still despite his instincts, which were hard-earned during the Harry hunts organized by his cousin Dudley and his friend Piers, who ordered him to run for it before being surrounded. But whoever his pursuers were, he doubted they were as...Slow and lacking perseverance like the parody of a human being that served as his family.

Aaaaaahhhhhh! Suddenly shouted Harry, struggling with all his might.

— Well, well. It seems you have found a funny little mouse, my dear. But it's not good to play with food.

— But master, you had promised. And I'm hungry.

— Release Nagini. It's an order. Don't worry, the time for your feast is approaching quickly.

Lord Voldemort, what a pleasure to see you again. Harry replied in a trembling voice as soon as the giant serpent had loosened its grip enough for him to catch his breath.

Oh a pleasure really. May I know then why you did everything to avoid our meeting place? Didn't I give you everything you asked me for? Haven't I sufficiently proven my sincerity?

I did not mean to avoid you, my lord. I just got lost. Things did not go as planned and in the confusion, I lost my way. But I have your wand. As you asked me.

Do not lie to me. Lord Voldemort always knows when he's being lied to. But I am also magnanimous with those who serve me well. Give me the Elder Wand and as promised, I will teach you magic.

Despite his master's orders, Nagini continued to circle around him, casting threatening looks. Harry swallowed and slowly handed the Elder Wand to Voldemort, who seized it eagerly and began to examine it from all angles with a greedy look.

Now, keep your promise and give me a wand. Harry found the courage to ask. He then noticed for the first time the presence of Peter, who was standing back, hand on his wand, casting him anxious glances from time to time. He then took the time to examine the surroundings and it seemed to him that the shadows surrounding the clearing where he was were populated with hooded figures.

Don't worry, you will get the reward you deserve. Voldemort replied, stretching his lips into a smile that gave her goosebumps. But first tell me what has become of my dear Arcanoru. I find it hard to believe that he abandoned you.

He killed Dumbledore. Harry replied immediately to create a diversion.

Harry's words spread like a wave of excitement within the circle of Death Eaters who abandoned all pretense of discretion to exchange whispers of euphoria among themselves. However, Voldemort did not seem sensitive to the prevailing joy:

Really? In that case, why hasn't he joined me? Why do the protections of the castle continue to deny access to me, the heir of the great Salazar Slytherin?

I don't know, sir.

That's unfortunate.

— Can I eat it now?Nagini demands.

A little more patience my dear. He must first return what he stole from me.

I didn't steal anything from you. I'm telling you the truth, I swear. Harry protested.

Really? Why would I believe the word of a perjurer? Didn't you stupidly try to run away? You wanted me to teach you. Here's my first lesson: In broad daylight or in the dead of night, no one escapes my gaze. Endoloris!

Harry then began to scream so loudly that he was afraid his vocal cords would break. He had never been in so much pain in his life. It was as if a white-hot needle had been driven into every millimeter of his skin. Then, as quickly as it had started, the pain stopped. Now completely indifferent to his surroundings, Harry curled up into a ball and began to cry, sobbing. As when he was really upset, between sobs, he called for his mother, his father, and, newly, his double. But his parents were dead because of him, and his double probably hated him now that he knew what he had done. With great effort, he forced himself to calm down and pay attention. The circle of Death Eaters had tightened around him, now forming an impenetrable wall in the center of which Voldemort seemed to be parading while haranguing his troops. Dark-Harry focused on his speech:

Did you really believe that I could have been defeated by this miserable child? I, the greatest dark wizard of all time. I who have gone further than anyone on the path to immortality. Perhaps you had the audacity to believe that he possessed some exceptional powers. A power even greater than mine.

At his words, the audience began to tremble, but Voldemort ignored them and continued his speech:

I will prove to you today that it is not the case by correcting the mistake I made 8 years ago.

Voldemort then raised his wand and a pentacle drawn on the ground lit up while the Death Eaters around him began to chant. He then turned to Harry with a predatory smile on his face. Then, seeing that Harry was watching him with a terrified look, he declared:

This time, your mother's protection will not save you. Moreover, this is my second lesson, Harry: blood given voluntarily is an ingredient too powerful to be used lightly. Your dear aunt was unaware of this and made the mistake of providing me with a sample of her precious blood in exchange for my promise to leave her family alone. That fool was unaware that your mother's protection was the only thing preventing me from eradicating her cursed family from the face of the earth.

Do not kill me, I beg you. Pleaded Dark-Harry.

Otherwise, what? You have nothing left to offer me. You do possess two valuable things: the Deathly Hallows cloak located in your vault at Gringotts and the horcrux that took refuge in you 8 years ago. However, when you are dead, all your possessions will go to your closest relative, namely, the wife of my loyal Lucius, who will hasten to make amends for her negligence towards the assets I entrusted to her by giving me the cloak. As for the horcrux, every second it remains in your possession is an insult to my greatness. I will therefore transfer it to my loyal Nagini. I fear, alas, that you will not survive the process. What do you want, nothing great is achieved without sacrifices.

Then the chanting stopped and Harry felt a dull pain rising from the depths of himself. It was even worse than the Cruciatus Curse. It was as if his body was splitting in two.

Goodbye Harry Potter. Avada Kedavra.

Before closing his eyes, Harry only had time to see a dark green flash in his direction.

oOoOoOo

Author's note: It's not me who plagiarizes Green-Lantern, but Tom. After all, most Anglo-Saxon children of the 1940s read superhero comics. And given his financial situation, Tom probably didn't have access to other reading material during his summer vacations (comics were originally printed cheaply and were intended for the working class). So it wouldn't be surprising if at least at one time Voldemort was a fan of superhero comics. That would explain where he gets his taste for elaborate staging and monologues.

Final combat

Dumbledore! I was told you were dead. Spat Voldemort.

Once again, I fear I must disappoint you, the white mage replied calmly.

On the contrary, I would have been extremely unhappy if you had left before having the chance to witness my triumph and the destruction of everything you hold dear.

Dark-Harry opened his eyes, surprised to still be alive. He pinched himself to verify that he was still there. And regained his senses just quickly enough to see an intense shield of light made up of what seemed to be pure magic dissipate. Dumbledore had just saved his life at the risk of his own. But he didn't have time to let the guilt overwhelm him before an arm emerged from nowhere, pulled him back, and clamped a hand over his mouth to prevent him from screaming. He was then covered with the invisibility cloak and held tightly against his double, who gestured for him to be quiet before leading him away.

Is your pride so excessive that you think you can face us alone, old man, bellowed Voldemort.

The aurors are on their way, Tom, I won't be alone for long. Dumbledore replied calmly.

And when they arrive, you will be dead and I will triumph.

Voldemort then raised the Elder Wand and the trees of the clearing transformed into a cloud of spikes that rushed at full speed in Dumbledore's direction. He feigned surprise when skeletal hands emerged from the ground to grab him and prevent him from dodging the deadly attack. This trap might have worked if, despite his good intentions, Dumbledore had not been able to stop himself from devoting much of his attention to the black stone adorning the Dark Lord's index finger. Thus, when under the influence of the Resurrection Stone the dead returned to life with a nonchalant gesture, he transformed their bodies into a morbid barrier that protected him from the attack, while he subjected three Death Eaters to the Imperius Curse who had dared to try to bypass him in order to attack him from behind.

If Voldemort was disappointed by his failure, he showed nothing and launched a gigantic black lightning bolt that smashed through the skeleton barrier and would have hit Dumbledore if he had not suddenly turned with supernatural agility and in turn launched a red lightning bolt that struck Voldemort's. While Dumbledore's puppets fought their former ally to prevent them from disturbing their new master, Dumbledore and Voldemort engaged in a duel of pure power that Voldemort was sure to win thanks to the Elder Wand. It was therefore with astonishment that he saw Dumbledore suddenly gain the upper hand and had to urgently use a...Complicated invocation to transform the intense magic rushing towards him to devour him into a massive serpent of flame (but not quickly enough to prevent the dark magic from burning part of his arm). Mad with anger, he vowed to make the kid pay for lying to him by giving him a perfectly ordinary wand before sending the serpent to attack Dumbledore, who then summoned a gigantic Phoenix made of water. Under the astonished gaze of the Death Eaters who could only flee hastily to avoid being incinerated, the two creatures clashed violently, dispersing with each of their contacts violent waves of high-temperature steam and plasma that reduced even the strongest rocks to rubble and triggered an uncontrollable fire.

How did you overcome the protection offered by a mother's love? Dumbledore asked hastily, instructing his creature to veer to the left.

After all this time. No, after everything you've done, do you still believe in love? Voldemort corrected himself in the hope of reviving his opponent's wounds. That explains why you didn't bother to explain to that Muggle that her family had nothing to fear from me as long as she remained loyal to her nephew. Unless she didn't believe you. She might not be as stupid as I thought.

Dumbledore was for a few moments shocked by what he understood, and Voldemort took the opportunity to unsuccessfully try to overtake his creature on the right.

You old fool, you should never have bet on love. Especially the love of a Muggle. Their flobberworms are incapable of feeling complex emotions. Voldemort retorted, annoyed by his failure.

After all this time, you still haven't gotten over the inconveniences of your youth.

The inconveniences! THE INCONVENIENCES! Voldemort suddenly shouted, losing his temper.

The attacks of the dark mage intensified. Not only did the flame monster rush fiercely against its watery double as if trying to pass through it without concern for its own safety, but at the same time, Voldemort began to cast minor dark magic spells in Dumbledore's direction, who struggled to provide enough power to his monster to protect it from the heat of the flames while countering his attacks, weak as they might be. For the first time in the battle, he painfully felt the absence of the Elder Wand. Thus, he was only partially annoyed when, in total disobedience of the orders he had given him, he saw Harry Dursley emerge from nowhere to counter a spell he would never have been able to counter in time to avoid a nasty gash.

I thought I told you to stay hidden until the reinforcements arrived, the old man reproached him nevertheless.

And I thought you understood that you had to stop wanting to do everything by yourselves, replied the young insolent one.

It is precisely because I have learned to trust you that I intended to let you take up my torch.

Harry wanted to protest once more, but he had to focus on a duel that began with Nagini. Voldemort's snake was used to dodging the slow jets of light coming from the sticks of the two legs, so Harry Dursley could barely keep it at bay. And it wasn't his only concern.concerns. In the background of their respective battle, the fire was growing more and more to the point that he was starting to sweat profusely despite the powerful protection spells that Dumbledore and Voldemort had scattered around the place to avoid being swept away by the consequences of their confrontation. At least when the reinforcements that Dumbledore had requested by sending a Patronus before rushing to the rescue of Dark-Harry arrived, they wouldn't have to search for hours in the vast forest to find them. Speaking of Dark-Harry, he hoped it had been a good idea to leave him alone under the invisibility cloak. His double was even more adept than him at getting into trouble.

The fight seemed to drag on for a while, but in fact, only a minute or two passed before a small group of wizards dressed in tattered robes joined them. Harry first thought they were the long-awaited reinforcements, but as they approached, he noticed their heads were covered with the sinister white masks of the Death Eaters.

I believe you are right. We are going to die. Commented Harry Dursley with a serenity that surprised even himself.

But I was wrong about everything else. I understand that now. I hope your double will find the strength to forgive me.

Dumbledore then began an extremely complex wand movement and 3 immense white flashes filled the forest. It lasted only a few seconds, but the air was so charged with magic that it seemed to solidify and Harry had to stop breathing. He had to muster all his energy not to faint under the intense pressure he felt. Then everything stopped as abruptly as it had started. When he reopened his eyes, an unsettling calm reigned over the forest. Apart from the now distant sound of the fire, nothing disturbed the silence that had fallen over what was now an immense charred clearing where the flames had faded due to lack of oxygen.

Wow! exclaimed Harry Dursley.

However, he quickly recovered. Around him, the silhouettes of about twenty Death Eaters lying on the ground began to move. But they were not what worried him. He frantically searched around for where Voldemort had gone. When he found him instinctively, he let out a scream.

Noooooon!

A few meters away, there was now a crater where what had been the greatest white mage of all time was agonizing on the ground, his face ravaged by flames. Without thinking about his enemies or the many grudges he had accumulated against the old sorcerer, Harry rushed to his side and began to recite the healing routine in a desperate tone. When the director finally opened his eyes, a wave of hope overwhelmed him, which immediately shattered when he heard the muffled whisper that was now the old man's voice.

Humps. That's what happens when you rush headlong into a fight.

Do not die, I beg you.

Why? Despite the sorrows and pains, I have had a long and beautiful life. And thanks to you, I now know that if I fall, others will take my place.

No, I was wrong. Without you, we won't make it.

I had planned to betray him, you know. My unbreakable vow. If I waited until the morning to destroy the Horcruxes, it's because afterward, I thought I would have to go to the Weasleys to retrieve your protégé and use him to lure Voldemort into a trap from which neither would escape.

Then, after this revelation, he seemed to have a final flash of lucidity and declared in an alarmed tone:

In my pocket. Hook of basil. Use it on the stone. Quick!

Then he used his last reserves of energy to point to a pile of ash next to him from which a curious green light seemed to emanate, before suddenly going out. Definitely this time.

Without wasting a moment regretting the headmaster's death or questioning his conflicting feelings towards his mentor's double, Harry begins to search the many pockets of the headmaster's robe. Next to him, the green light had turned into a malevolent black aura.

Go faster. Fucking shit. He swore as he tossed yet another chocolate frog card and a box of lemon candy far away.

Why does he have so many pockets?

Then he stopped his hand just before getting stung when he finally came across a long, hard object. He then remarked that it was not very wise to search for a poisoned hook with bare hands. But all his scruples were swept away when the ashes flew up and began to take human form. Without any precaution, he tore the hook from Dumbledore's pocket and lunged at the ring now floating in the air at the center of the phenomenon and deeply embedded the hook into it.

Immediately, a terrifying cry of pain escaped from the ring, and the storm of dark magic transformed into a magical explosion that propelled Harry Dursley far away.

With difficulty, Harry got up and saw with satisfaction that the pile of ash had become inert again. He then sighed with relief and began to look for a way to find Dark-Harry, who had better have stayed hidden away from the fights under his invisibility cloak as he had asked him. However, he realized that his hope was in vain when a cry of pain, all too familiar to his ears, emerged from the void between him and the remains of the one whose name he no longer wanted to pronounce.

He then had to watch helplessly as a shadow emerged from the pile of ashes at the center of the crater that had been Voldemort. As soon as the shadow reached the source of the noise, the invisibility cloak slipped off and revealed his double who was screaming while holding his head as his scar glowed like a piece of metal heated to a red-hot.

Aaaah! Help, help me. Shouted Dark-Harry between screams.

Harry Dursley was paralyzed by fear and indecision. But the situation was all too familiar to him and the urgency far too pressing for him to continue hesitating.

Harry, forgive me. Pestis Incendium! Dark-Harry exclaimed in a pleading voice.

Immediately, a tongue of magical flame burst from his wand and engulfed Dark-Harry, whose screams intensified. Too absorbed by guilt, he did not notice that the Resurrection Stone and the Elder Wand now lay at the feet of the smoldering body that had been Dark-Harry, right next to the Invisibility Cloak. As a result, he did not even notice when, in its frantic search for new victims to satisfy its insatiable hunger, the Fiendfyre completely consumed the three Hallows.

Immediately, Harry Dursley collapsed to the ground as if drained of all energy. Even dragging himself on the ground to get away from the out-of-control fire demon required a superhuman effort of will. So it was with resignation and calm that he watched Lucius Malfoy, whose white mask had been split, approach him accompanied by ten other Death Eaters.

Avada Kedavra. Pronounced the cold, emotionless voice of the aristocrat.

The last thought that crossed the foggy mind of Harry Dursley was that the image of that green streak rushing towards him vaguely reminded him of something. Like an old childhood memory.

oOoOoOo

That evening, as he passed through the doors of his manor, Lucius Malfoy was jubilant. It was 4 a.m. and he hadn't slept for over 24 hours, yet even if he had wanted to sleep, he would have been unable to. In the distance, he saw the first rays of the sun beginning to rise over his vast estate. The first light of a new day for him and the wizarding world, which Lucius would use every minute of to take control.

Dobby, bring me a Jeroboam bottle of Château Mouton-Rothschild 1945.

To clearly mark his order, he accompanied it with a painful burning spell. But the elf, accustomed to mistreatment from his family, barely flinched.

Yes master.

Then the elf disappeared with a slight pop before reappearing with the precious bottle, which he hurriedly poured a glass from for his master, trembling slightly with fear.

Lucius watched him silently, then raised his glass, thinking that soon everyone would fear his name.

My beloved. Is it not too early for such epicurean pleasures? Narcissa whispered in his ear, who, worried about her husband, had immediately come to meet him still dressed in her dressing gown with gold-edged trimmings, when the manor's protections had alerted her to his return.

On the contrary, my sweet flower, the hour is indeed late, but there could not be better moments to savor this nectar. 1945, the beginning of an era as exceptional as it was execrable. An era that is now over. And I foresee that you will be the queen of the next one.

Lucius then excitedly explained the events of the previous day, and his wife soon caught his enthusiasm. To the point that he wondered what Narcissa really knew about the state of their finances. Lucius had made sure she knew nothing of their dire financial situation. Money matters did not concern the weaker sex, and he had not fallen low enough to need her help. Nevertheless, it was true that his wife was particularly intelligent, and she must have suspected they were in a delicate situation when a few days earlier, the bailiffs accompanied by Dumbledore had come knocking early in the morning at their door and found that cursed notebook surrounded by the darkest relics of the Malfoy house. The fines were so high that even by mortgaging the manor, he didn't know how he could have paid them. Of course, this wouldn't have been a problem if, over the years, he hadn't had to spend so much money outbidding the generous bribes Dumbledore offered to the most influential members of the Wizengamot. However, he could not bring himself to leave the leadership of the wizarding world to that Muggle-loving man.

And now Dumbledore was dead and his wife was soon going to inherit the combined fortunes of the Blacks, the Lestranges, and the Potters. Indeed, the family trees were clear. Thanks to the marriage of Charlus Potter and DoreaBlack, his wife was now the closest relative of the late Harry Potter. And as surreal as it might seem before he finished him off, the kid had repeated the feat of defeating his master. Even though he hadn't really understood what had happened in the Forbidden Forest that night, the disappearance of his Dark Mark told him the only thing he needed to know: he was free, and this time, it was final.

With the disappearance of his two monsters, Lucius just had to ensure that no one connected him to the events in Diagon Alley, and soon, he could take control of the wizarding world.

This is how, barely a few minutes after Gringotts opened, Diagon Alley was shaken by a cry of rage coming from the depths of the bank. Lucius had just learned that by virtue of a law he had written himself to claim part of the Prince's inheritance, his wife had no rights to the Potter's estate. At the time, he hadn't understood why Dumbledore had agreed to negotiate his approval of a law denying gender equality in matters of inheritance.

That kind of bastard. He really got me. Even after death, he can't help but ruin my life, that old lemon. To think I accepted the nomination of that loser Elphias Doge to the Wizengamot in exchange for his support. For all I know, it's that son of a bitch who suggested the idea of that damn law to me.

Lucius. Such vulgarity is unworthy of you. Narcissa Malfoy admonished.

But Lucius ignored him and shouted at the goblin:

Who!? Who is the heir in this case?

Before answering, the goblin slowly arranged the scattered papers on his desk and tried to compose a neutral expression before responding with a small smile:

Although this does not concern you in any way, by virtue of several decades of fruitful relationship, I exceptionally agree to reveal to you that if your information were to be confirmed regarding the regrettable disappearance of Mr. Potter, the legitimate heir to all his titles, estates, and properties would be: Mr. Arthur Weasley.

The legend says that his cry of rage was heard even at the other end of the country.

This is how peace returned to the wizarding world and the Weasleys suddenly became the greatest fortune in England. A fortune they generously distributed around them, allowing for the recreation of a strong associative network and media independent of the ministry. This is how, after the death of Cornelius Fudge, Percy ran for the position of Minister of Magic and was the first candidate to win the election without resorting to corruption or blackmail. However, every medal has its reverse, and he was forced by the strong social movement that had brought him to the height of power to use his mandate to bring the wizarding world into an era of freedom, equality, and progress. All those years of study and work to implement the reforms wanted by bumpkins who didn't even get 3 OWLs, it's vexing, it's as if he was their representative and not their leader.

Okay, I'll stop the populist diatribe and end the story with a traditional: they lived happily ever after and had many cisgender heterosexual children. Statistically, they also had a few homosexuals and one trans, but the wizarding world was not yet ready for May 68.

oOoOoOo

Author's note: Jeroboam of Château Mouton-Rothschild 1945 is a wine that truly exists and is one of the most expensive in the world. From what I have read on specialized sites, you can consume it in some luxury restaurants for the modest sum of $9,000 per glass.

Personally, I hate all forms of alcohol and the celebration of this drug makes me want to vomit. Alcohol is one of the worst drugs in the world. It is more addictive than cocaine, and its effects on health and behavior have almost no equivalent.

If you insist on using drugs, from my point of view, it is preferable to take up cannabis, cigarettes, or anxiolytics rather than alcohol. But let's be clear, drug use, in my eyes, is something to avoid. Unless you want to become the pawns of unscrupulous multinationals or mafias that knowingly sell this crap (I apologize to sex workers for this comparison, any sex slave trafficked from Eastern Europe by a human trafficking network has more autonomy and dignity than a person dependent on alcohol, cannabis, anxiolytics, or tobacco).

However, when by chance I heard about his bottles created specifically to celebrate the end of the Second World War, I thought it was a detail that I absolutely had to include in my story.

Author's Note 2: To be honest, I hesitated to stop there, but I promised myself to make a multiverse story and so far, we've only seen one alternate universe. And then the goal is also to have a happy ending for Harry and this one is even worse than the previous one. We don't have one dead Harry, but two. No matter how satisfying this conclusion is, I can't stop there.

Dead again. It's boring.

When he opened his eyes, Harry Dursley was overwhelmed by an intense feeling of well-being that he had only experienced once in his life. Then the memories of what had happened came back to him, and he started to scream.

Young naturist, I ask you to respect basic courtesy rules. This is a high-class establishment here. Your yelling is driving away the customers, admonished a deep voice behind him that he would have liked to never hear again in his life (in a way, his wish had been granted).

Harry concentrated and, like the last time, he was quickly covered in a wizard's robe as soft as silk. But he didn't take the time to savor this comfort and turned around to head towards the wooden bar, all too familiar for his liking, where a skeleton with a smiling face awaited him, adorned with a red bow tie that inevitably drew attention in the middle of this place so... there was no word in the human language to describe the decor that served as a backdrop to this infinite space.

Which clients? Is my double here?

Your double? What are you talking about? I warn you if it's a trick to halve your slate, I... replied the skeleton with a genuinely surprised look.

No, forget it. I had a very bad day.

Why does everyone tell me that? Can I get you something?

I don't have any money. Harry politely refused this time.

You are the first person to care about it for 753 years, 7 months, and 19 days. But today, to celebrate the opening of my restaurant, the drinks are on the house.

Your restaurant!?

By leaning over, Harry indeed saw that behind the bar there were now about ten tables made of wood worn by centuries, decorated with candles whose black flame seemed more dead than alive. Above, an old sign read: 'bite into death with full teeth'

I diversify my activities. I try to adapt to new trends with a disruptive business plan rigorously implemented using a combination of Agile and Kanban methods to renew my clientele both qualitatively and quantitatively.

Huh!?

Me neither, I didn't understand anything, but my last client was a speaker who made a fortune selling training courses online, so I can trust him. If he says that it will finally allow me to retain my customers, then it's true. Besides, it's already working. You never came back so quickly. What a shame you had to bring back with you that creature whose charming appearance is ruined by a terrible lack of taste. By the way, what did you do with it?

What are you talking about? Asked Harry Dursley, feeling as if a brick had fallen on his stomach.

Certainly, human memory is not what it used to be. You came just 5 minutes ago, but you had to leave because of the scene your friend made. And hey, where are you going? You're forgetting your free drink. The skeleton called out to him. But this only strengthened Harry Dursley's desire to escape as quickly as possible.

oOoOoOo

Dark-Harry couldn't believe what was happening to him. Finally, his double had betrayed him. He shouldn't have been surprised. And then, could he really blame him after the way he had behaved? That didn't stop him from feeling the anger rise within him when he thought back to the pain of the flames. And the seductive words of the young man who had replaced the vile creature accompanying him didn't help him see clearly.

You don't need him. You don't need anyone. You and I are exceptional beings despised by those who cannot see beyond appearances.

No, this is not right. I don't want to disappoint Harry anymore.

Why? You owe him nothing.

He saved me from the Dursleys.

To better betray you afterwards. He is a selfish person who had too easy a life thanks to your sacrifices. His so perfect universe is your creation. If he hadn't intervened, you would have become the most powerful wizard of all time and at your death, you would have used your powers to change the past and make the Dursleys love you. He owes you a happy childhood and how you have been...He thanked you. He destroyed your work, destroyed your destiny. The little he did was only an infinitesimal repayment of what he stole from you.

Why should I believe you?

Look into your heart and you will know that I am telling the truth.

It's not because I'm young that I'm an idiot. I'm not naive enough to believe nonsense about love and the power of the heart. Give me proof of what you're saying or get lost.

Ah! Ah! Ah! We are very much alike indeed. So, let's stop talking about the past and think about the future. What are your alternatives? Do you really want everything to end here? You and I will do great things together. If you agree to trust me, even death will have to bow before us. Together, we could bring them back.

How?

There are an infinite number of worlds, worlds where your parents are still alive.

But before Dark-Harry could respond, the creature, a voice screamed his name behind him.

Harry, move away from him!

Dark-Harry turned around and saw his double floating in his direction, but before he could determine whether he was happy to see him again or not, the young man stepped between them and declared towards his double:

Why would he continue to listen to you? Haven't you already hurt him enough?

Shut up, Tom, I had no other choice. He was going to possess you and use you to massacre everyone, and if you listen to him, he'll start again.

I don't give a damn about the world. Why should I sacrifice myself for others? What have they done for me? Don't you understand? We have a chance to meet our real parents. They would adopt us and you could become my brother for real.

In his eyes shone such hope that Harry Dursley felt sorry to upset him.

I don't know exactly what he told you, but it's a lie. Nothing can bring back your parents or mine. And even if it were possible, Voldemort is only interested in himself.

Dark-Harry suddenly moved away from the young man and stammered:

You ... You are Voldemort.

He then noticed that he had just finished an incantation and a portal suddenly appeared. He took on an affected air before replying:

I was Lord Voldemort. But thanks to you, I realized how weak Lord Voldemort was. Thanks to you, I am whole again and a new horizon opens up to me. If you change your mind, know that I would be willing to share them with you. In the meantime, this is a taste of what we could do together. You will find for yourself that what I have to offer far exceeds anything you could obtain by persisting in your childish quest for a chimerical family love.

Then without waiting for a response, Tom Riddle crossed the portal. The two Harrys exchanged a look. Then, when the portal began to close, Dark-Harry stopped hesitating and threw himself into the mysterious portal. Unable to stop him, Harry Dursley followed, hoping, without much belief, that the world he was heading to would be less horrible than the previous one.

Meeting with Lord Harry

Huuuuummmmmpf!

Dark-Harry woke up with a start, ready to face Voldemort. So quickly that he felt a bit dizzy. He had barely walked a few meters when he almost fell. He had never felt like this before. His body seemed more agile, less hunched than usual. And why did the ground seem so far away? And why was he so cold? Wait, what do you mean, the ground is far away? He looked around. He was standing in the middle of an unknown street in a large city littered with filth, during what looked like the beginning of a summer day (but which felt curiously freezing to him).

He approached an old car parked in front of the driveway and incredulously touched it to ensure that all this was real. The cold metal made him shiver. He wondered where he was and why he had ended up here when from the door of the house in front of which he stood, he heard a voice lovingly calling a certain Ryan for breakfast.

Immediately, all his questions vanished from his mind and he rushed inside the house as quickly as he could. He had no recollection of this voice, but he instinctively knew to whom it belonged. His dearest wish was granted and for the first time in his life, he finally had a home to return to. For the first time in his life, he was coming home.

Dark-Harry hastily opened the door and rushed into the vestibule of the unknown house. He dashed through the sumptuous hall covered in paintings without even noticing they were moving and hurried to the first door on the right, which led to a large cavernous room with rough stone walls, mostly occupied by a large table illuminated by a crystal chandelier and a vast fireplace where a strange creature was cooking bacon.

But what really caught his attention were the three people seated around the table in front of a hearty breakfast. There was a woman of great beauty with fiery hair who was staring at him strangely with her large green eyes, an athletic man with unruly brown hair similar to his own in his forties who looked a lot like him, whose mischievous gaze was hidden by thick glasses, running his hand through the hair of a 14-year-old boy who, despite the age difference, could have been his twin (except that he would never have displayed such a confident expression, nor rejected the signs of affection from his father).

He had dreamed of this scene so much that he didn't even think. Without a word, he rushed towards the red-haired woman and hugged her with all his might. He didn't even have time to realize what was happening when he was violently pushed against the wall and his head hit a piece of furniture where pots were hanging, which fell on him from the force of the impact. The pain he felt at the back of his head from the impact was familiar to him. That wasn't the case for the one that gripped his heart when, without caring if he was okay, his mother scolded him:

How dare you steal the attention due to Ryan, you dirty snake? After everything my baby has been through.

Why haven't you left for Remus's place yet? added James Potter with a sort of disgust before turning his attention back to his other son, who seemed embarrassed by his parents' reaction but did not oppose them at all.

For what seemed to him like the umpteenth time that day, Dark-Harry lost control of his emotions and ran out of the room under the indifferent gaze of James and Lily Potter, who were far too busy pampering theirSon's favorite: Ryan Potter the survivor, who was anxiously watching the departure of his twin brother sorted into Slytherin: Harry Potter.

oOoOoOo

At first, Harry Dursley had been very happy to be alive again (and to have regained his 14-year-old body), to pay attention to what Dark-Harry was doing. Then he heard screams coming from the magnificent manor in front of him which, despite several spells meant to conceal it, reeked of dark magic. He swore, wondering if his friend Cedric Diggory had felt this sense of weariness every time he had to pull him out of trouble. No, he hadn't been in danger that often (across dimensions, he heard the ghost of Cedric Diggory choke with indignation at this blatant lack of good faith).

Without further ado, Harry Dursley rushed inside the manor through the still-open door, just in time to intercept his double leaving the kitchen like a cannonball.

Stop, you won't go anywhere. Harry Dursley said, grabbing his double by the arm.

Harry Dursley then felt a wand pointed at his neck and a mark burned him. He was about to use wandless magic to repel the opportunist when a voice that haunted his nightmares threatened him:

That's exactly what I was going to say.

Jenny! yelled Harry Dursley as he turned to face the young girl, much taller than he remembered, who was staring at him menacingly.

Stupefy!

Harry Dursley blocked with a shield he summoned with one hand.

Jenny, it's me, Harry.

But for only response she used her wand to cast a Sonorus and shout:

With the help of the Death Eaters, they infiltrated.

Immediately, the house seemed to echo with the sound of running, and before he had time to react, they were surrounded by a small army of wands. Among the wizards threatening them, most of the faces were unfamiliar to him, but he had no trouble identifying the two wizards who had joined Jenny Nott and were now flanking her as if to act as her bodyguards. First, there was Lucas Cross, Jenny Nott's childhood Muggle-born friend (Jenny's mother had unsuccessfully attempted to flee her Death Eater brother when he learned that her daughter's father was a Muggle). Both had been his best friends until they were killed by the Slytherin monster during his first year at Hogwarts. As a result, seeing them both alive and a few years older provoked a strong emotion in him.

The second wizard he identified without difficulty was none other than his double from this world who was staring at him with green eyes from which emanated a silent threat of death towards him. Although the term double might be an exaggeration. Indeed, as when he looked at Dark-Harry, he saw subtle differences that stood out even more to him because the rest of their person seemed to be a perfect replica of himself. Unlike him or Dark-Harry, this double bore the haughty air and confident posture he had only seen in his world with certain purebloods like Draco Malfoy. He also noticed with jealousy that his face appeared unaffected by any of the afflictions of adolescence like acne and he seemed taller, more muscular, and above all, his hair seemed almost disciplined (almost). If you added the powerful magic thatEmanating from him, he exuded incredible charisma. In a word, he was the perfect heir of a great pure-blood family both in his appearance and in his manner of being. Immediately, Harry Dursley nicknamed him in his head: Lord-Harry.

What is this? Another one of your tricks to get attention? Don't you think we've already had enough problems with Ryan's abduction by Pettigrow? He shouted at Lord-Harry, a tall, thin man with clouded gray eyes that Harry Dursley did not know. He had a voice like barking and a handsome face with an aristocratic appearance that reminded him of Bellatrix Lestrange.

Dad, stop. How can you believe that Harry would willingly put us in danger? You had promised to make an effort. Replied in the same tone a 14-year-old girl accompanied by a young wizard with a round face.

In response to his doublenative to this world declared in a drawling voice:

Your defense touches me deeply. However, I fear that we currently have more pressing priorities than the lamentable prejudices of your father. For example, discovering the identity of our visitors and what they hoped to accomplish by impersonating me.

There was something about this version of himself that annoyed Harry Dursley. He didn't really know what. Maybe it was his arrogant demeanor and haughty tone that decidedly reminded him a lot of Draco Malfoy. Or maybe it was the fact that unlike him, he seemed not to have experienced grief. However, the other had done nothing wrong so far, so he put aside his discomfort and slowly raised his hands to signal that he was not a threat. Then he replied with an ironic smile:

Harry Potter and Harry Potter, but if you don't mind number 3, we need to see Dumbledore urgently.

Dark-Harry, who had been clinging to him since he intercepted him, pushed him away violently.

Why do you want to go back to that old geezer? He wants to kill me. Dark-Harry reproached with an outraged look.

But no, he doesn't want to kill you. Did Voldemort tell you such nonsense? Harry Dursley replied to him.

Liar. I was there when you talked about it. I thought you were on my side. Accused Dark-Harry.

No, but it's the world turned upside down. You're the one betraying me, and I'm the one being blamed. I'm on your side in case you forgot. Listen, I don't know what you thought you heard, but it's a misunderstanding. The urgent thing now is to stop Voldemort. Tried to calm him, Harry Dursley.

On my side? You killed me! Accused him violently Dark-harry

I had no other choice. He possessed you. And it would never have happened if you had stayed with the Weasleys as I had asked you. Can we know what got into you? I thought you were smarter than that. Lord Harry replied, raising his voice gradually. During the last few hours, the panic and relief of having found him in one piece had followed one another at such a frantic pace that he was only now realizing that he was angry with Dark-Harry.

If I hadn't done anything, you would be dead and then it would have been my turn. Defended Dark-Harry.

Result, we both died. Yelled Harry Dursley at his double who was shrinking a bit more under the reproach.

I couldn't know. Almost cried Dark-Harry.

And you think that justifies what you did? How could you side with that monster?

What do we do, call Snape? asked Jenny Nott loudly to interrupt their argument.

Rather St. Mungo's if you ask me. I don't know who those guys are, but... Lucas commented. But before he had the chance to finish his sentence, the man resembling Bellatrix suddenly burst out:

All right, that's enough of this farce. Harry, tell your friends to stop their circus and take off those ridiculous costumes. In the meantime, I'm going to reassure your parents. I'm very disappointed that you participated in this, Jenny. The same goes for you, Elizabeth. Dare to say after this that Harry doesn't have a bad influence on you.

Before the furious young girl who was apparently his daughter could answer him, he rushed into the kitchen and slammed the door.

But who is this idiot? Exclaimed Harry Dursley and Dark-Potter at the same time.

I introduce you to my father Sirius Black. Elizabeth Black replied.

Sirius Black! He's my godfather, right? Asked Dark-Harry.

No unfortunately, it's mine. And unlike him, I have an attention span of more than 3 seconds, so don't expect to escape me. I will be generous and give you a chance to convince me not to turn you over to the aurors, Lord Harry threatened.

But Harry Dursley paid him no attention and merely exclaimed:

That's it, I recognize the place now: we are at 12 Grimmauld Square.

Definitely St. Mungo's. Commented Jenny Nott.

In the department of desperate cases. Added Lucas Cross, mechanically shaking Jenny Nott's hand.

So, is it done, have you finally gotten together? Couldn't help but tease them, Harry Dursley, even though they continued to point their wands at him threateningly.

We are not together! they exclaimed at the same time before letting go of each other's hand, red with embarrassment.

Even though deep down he knew it wasn't his Jenny and his Lucas, Harry Dursley smiled to see his friends alive again.

Harry, my father, is an idiot, but for once, I think he's right: they are not a threat. Anyway, they don't even have a wand. Elizabeth Black intervened.

That one knows how to use magic without a wand. They should not be underestimated, Jenny specified as she and Lords Harry were the last wizards in the room to keep them at bay.

Really? Cool! exclaimed the young man next to Elizabeth Black.

So what? I can also use magic without a wand. I refrain from doing so only because it requires an exhausting effort. Complained Lord Harry.

Listen, all we want is to see Dumbledore. He will confirm that we are not a danger. Explained Harry Dursley.

Dumbledore! Just that? And why not the Minister of Magic? Moreover, Dumbledore's endorsement would only reinforce my suspicions about you. Replied Lord Harry calmly. Then, after a moment of hesitation, he lowered his wand and signaled Jenny Nott to do the same. Once she complied (making her displeasure well known), Lord Harry continued:

Reveal your true identity and the reason for your presence here. If you are convincing enough, perhaps I may forgive your poor attempt at intrusion.

Uh, how to say, it's a long story.

Time is precisely a resource we do not lack in these places. However long your story may be, I fear it is not as tedious as the endless wait for the arrival of my uncle Remus, replied Lord Harry.

Now that their precious survivor has been found in one piece, he shouldn't be long. Added the daughter of Sirius Black with a consoling gesture towards Lord Harry.

Wait, aren't you the survivor? Harry Dursley wondered.

No, I'm Harry Potter: the twin brother of the survivor. Don't worry. You're not the only one unaware of my existence, explained Lord Harry wearily.

That undoubtedly explained why his friends were still alive, thought Harry Dursley bitterly.

In this case, I don't think it's a good idea to involve you. Anyway, I don't see what you could do to help us. Tell me how to get to Hogwarts. I'm sure Dumbledore will listen to me.

Of course, where was my mind? The little people don't need to be informed and must just blindly follow the great Ryan Potter. By what right would I demand the reason for this break-in?

Didn't you take sarcasm lessons from Snape? You're almost as unbearable as he is, commented Harry Dursley.

Do not insult Snape. He is the best teacher at Hogwarts. Lord-Harry immediately defended him.

For a few seconds, Harry Dursley froze. When he had faced death, he had not been shocked. When he had found himself projected into an unknown parallel universe, he had not been shocked. When he realized he had been rejuvenated to the age of 9, he had not been shocked. When Dumbledore told him he was going to die (again) he had not been shocked. Nevertheless, the idea that Snape could be nice was beyond his comprehension. Since the remark from his counterpart had managed to make its way into his consciousness, his traitorous brain had immediately generated the image of a smiling Snape, and this vision terrified him.

Fortunately, after a long minute of discomfort, Dark-Harry shook him by the shoulder and he reset.

But where have we ended up!? Exclaimed Harry Dursley as he regained his senses.

What I would like to know is how. How were you able to breach the manor's protections? Since Ryan's abduction, Sirius and Dumbledore have turned 12 Grimmauld Place into a real fortress, intervened the young man with the round face.

Good question, Neville. Approved Elizabeth Black.

I have no idea. I just followed my double. How did you manage to overcome the protections? Harry Dursley asked Dark-Harry, who continued trying to make himself as small as possible.

I just pushed the door. Replied Dark-harry timidly. He did not like being the center of attention at all. And he was not as comfortable as Harry Dursley, in this 14-year-old body. It was so weird. Now that he paid attention, he had all sorts of emotions and thoughts he never had.tested and that he did not understand, but which were nevertheless his own. And then this body was so... hairy.

Our double from this world is allowed to bypass the protections, so we are too. It's like at Gringotts. Continued Harry Dursley without noticing Dark-Harry's distress.

Are you really another version of myself? said Lord Harry visibly disconcerted.

Directly from a parallel universe. Or from a time travel. Actually, I'm not quite sure.

I have a huge doubt all of a sudden: tell me there aren’t two other Voldemorts who followed you? Asked the one named Neville with surprising sagacity.

Only one. The one from my world is dead. And this time, I hope it will be final. This response from Harry Dursley did not reassure them at all, and an icy silence fell over the group.He took advantage of the ensuing silence to continue:

—  You now understand why we need to see Dumbledore. I bet Voldemort will start by searching for the Resurrection Stone. In any case, that's what my Voldemort did in the Dark-Harry world. We must act before he succeeds and uses it to bring this world's Voldemort back to life and ally with him. I know where the stone is. Or rather where Voldemort intends to find it. If we hurry, we can intercept it before he becomes too powerful to be stopped. With luck, we might even seize the stone before him and use the power of the relics to end this nightmare once and for all. Think out loud Harry Dursley.

If your words contain the slightest ounce of truth, then we have already wasted too much time. Tell us where this stone is. Jenny, Lucas, try to contact Rogue or Remus and explain the situation to them. Neville, Elizabeth, although I know the futility of it, I want to point out that nothing obliges you to accompany me.

Why should we stay behind? Jenny protested, before Elizabeth and Neville could respond.

Because you are our juniors and we will need a diversion to avoid attracting the Potters' attention to our departure. Lord Harry replied, placing enormous disdain on the word 'Potter', as if he did not consider himself a Potter.

They are too busy celebrating Ryan's return to notice anything. Jenny replied.

Besides, doesn't anyone find it a heck of a coincidence that those two show up right at this moment? It might be a trap from Voldemort, Neville intervened.

If it were a trap, it would be for Ryan, not for me. He's the survivor.

At his words, Neville and Elizabeth exchanged a questioning look.

What!? Asks Lord-Harry

Well, that is to say... stammered Neville.

Have you never thought that maybe you are the survivor? Elizabeth Black asked frankly.

You are being irrational. Or perhaps you too come from another dimension. Obviously, it's Ryan who is the survivor. Did you miss the heart-shaped scar that disfigures his noble face and that he constantly flaunts at every opportunity?

You too have a scar and when you think about it, from the beginning everyone relies on Dumbledore's word. Other than that, we have no reason to think that Ryan is the survivor. Ventured Elizabeth

Precisely, it's Dumbledore. Even though I don't really like him, I don't believe he would make up such a thing. What reason would he have to do that? Asked Lord Harry.

He might have been wrong. Opposed Elizabeth.

We're talking about Dumbledore here. Reminded Lord Harry in a learned tone.

And yet, it was you who prevented Voldemort from resurrecting twice. Against Neville.

It was a happy coincidence, devoid of meaning.

A stroke of luck really? Do you think Ryan would have been capable of it? Insisted Elizabeth.

If he studied more, he would be as powerful as me. Our Twinship guarantees it.

Frankly, I doubt it. Anyway, it's not just a question of magic. Do you think that coward would have faced him? Argued Jenny.

You too, do you believe in this crazy theory? He's a Gryffindor. Of course, he would have had the bravery to face it. Lord-Harry replied with surprise, realizing that his friends had already discussed this completely insane theory among themselves.

Listen, it doesn't matter whether they are the survivor or not, we are not strong enough to fight Voldemort alone. We need reinforcements. Harry Dursley interrupted them.

I thought I had convinced you that they will never believe you. Even I find it hard to believe. Retorted Lord Harry.

When they realize they have two extra sons, they will have to start asking questions. Insisted Harry Dursley

They still need to realize it. One day, I ran away for 3 days and they still didn't notice. Replied Lord Harry bitterly.

You're exaggerating. Besides, I don't even know why I'm wasting time trying to convince you. I'm going to talk to them right away. Where are they?

In the kitchen. Replied Dark-Harry, in a whisper.

Is one comfortable. Commented Lord Harry with an ironic bow with one hand and pointing to the kitchen door with the other.

Not wanting to waste another minute, Harry Dursley rushed to the kitchen, forcibly dragging Dark-Harry with him.

If stupidity had a mass, its idiots would be real human black holes. Shouted Harry Dursley as he left the kitchen.

Is this a subtle way of admitting that I was right? Lord Harry taunted.

Yet, you said that our parents sacrificed themselves so we could live. Dark-Harry interrupted in a pitiful voice.

They have nothing to do with our parents. It's just this universe that's upside down. That jackal Voldemort has probably chosen to open a portal specifically to the worst possible universe to destroy your morale and be able to manipulate you, exclaimed Harry Dursley with determination.

But the scene he had just experienced reminded him with a new sharpness of the hurtful words his adoptive mother had sometimes addressed to his late sister when she didn't know that Harry could hear her.

Our universe is doing very well. It took me a while to understand, but my parents are the problem. They are selfish, obsessed with the fame and celebrity that Ryan brings them. Outside of that, nothing matters. Not even me. Explained Lord Harry with bitterness.

Yes, well, it's okay, it's not that bad. For many people, you have a dream life. If you knew what it's like to be the survivor, you would put things into perspective. Retorted Harry Dursley without thinking.

It's easy for you to say that. You don't know what it's like to be ignored and belittled by everyone. You, the Dursleys pampered you. Dark-Harry immediately protested before Lord Harry could respond.

Harry Dursley was so disconcerted that Dark-Harry sided with Lord-Harry that he didn't know what to say. With his past, how could he feel compassion for a millionaire's son complaining that mom and dad didn't spend enough time with him? wondered Harry Dursley.

Thank you for defending me, but contrary to what my parents think, I am not seeking attention, and even less pity. All that matters to me is that my friends are safe. And for that, I need you to reveal what you know. Tell us what this stone is, how to recognize it, where it is, and how your Voldemort plans to use it to restore human form to ours? Replied Lord Harry in an imperious tone.

Harry Dursley cast a tempus without a wand and found that two hours had already passed since their resurrection. He couldn't afford to lose another two hours trying to convince the oversized egos that served as his parents in this universe to let him contact Dumbledore. And he couldn't stop Voldemort on his own. Nevertheless, even if his counterpart in this universe was unpleasant to him, he was an innocent child with nothing to do with this conflict. A child who would probably be of no help to him. However, he had no other choice and so reluctantly he said:

The stone is located in the old Gaunt house, near a village called Little Hangleton. The last time, my Dumbledore took me there by side-along apparition, however, I think I can find the place again. But first, I need a wand. I suppose it's Ryan who has the twin wand of Voldemort. Do you think we could borrow it from him?

It is my wand that contains a Phoenix feather and I am keeping it. And I don't see how we could quickly find you a wand that would suit you. Replied Lord Harry

Accio Potter's wand! Shouted young Jenny Nott with all her might.

Immediately, two wands flew into her hand, which she extended to Harry Dursley and Dark-Harry. Dark-Harry eagerly grabbed the piece of wood, while Harry Dursley was more cautious.

Since they are careless enough to leave them lying around without protection, you can use James and Lily Potter's wands. It should work since you claim to be of the same blood. Now, let's get out of here before your regrettable parents show up to demand explanations. Justified Jenny Nott.

You did it on purpose so that we would have to take you with us. Lord Harry reproached him.

How dare you accuse me of such treachery? Is it because I'm in Slytherin, is that it!? You are so full of prejudice. Jenny Nott pretended to be indignant.

Honestly, such a thoughtless plan is more worthy of a Gryffindor. Lord-Harry reproached him.

Do not insult me. Retorted Jenny, looking outraged.

Hey, don't speak ill of the Gryffindors. Neville and Lucas protested.

Then, hearing footsteps running in the direction of their small group, they hurried to leave the house. Once outside, Lord Harry guided them to the shed where the Black family's three brooms were located. He briefly wondered how they were going to manage all seven of them on the brooms when, to everyone's astonishment (and to Dark-Harry's terror), Harry Dursley cast a lightening and permanent sticking charm on Dark-Harry before rising into the air without the aid of any support, taking Dark-Harry with him.

Yes well I'm fine too, I can do impressive things. Grumbled Lord Harry in response to his friends' admiring looks.

oOoOoOo

Author's note: This part takes place in a universe more than strongly inspired by fanfiction.Revenge-is-so-sweet (At this level, it's plagiarism, but I adapted it a bit to my needs). More precisely, it takes place in an alternative version of chapter 32 of this fanfic.

I asked the author for permission via PM to use their universe, but I never received a response and the account has been inactive for several years. So I assume it doesn't bother them. I chose this fanfic to set mine in because the theme suits me (it is based, like mine and Dark-Harry's, on an alternative childhood for Harry), because I find the characters Jenny and Lucas particularly well-conceived, and for a reason I can't discuss without slightly spoiling the rest.

Journey

Author's note: I apologize in advance, but I fear that the last chapters of this story may not be of the same quality as those that preceded them. Indeed, I have been writing Harry Potter fanfics intensively for about 18 months, and I believe I am starting to get tired or run out of inspiration. Or perhaps I set myself too difficult a goal by attempting to write a story with so many main characters interacting together in the same chapter, whereas previously I focused my chapters on at most two main characters accompanied by a few less detailed secondary characters.

Anyway, so far the sentences flowed effortlessly and writing fascinated me to the point that I had a hard time concentrating on my real job (the one that is useless or even harmful to society, but earns me tons of galleons). Besides, if your office colleague is typing like crazy on his keyboard with a big smile worthy of the Joker, rest assured he is not preparing your murder in a dark alley. It's just me, writing a scene where Doctor Housser torments his patients when I should be working (I really enjoyed writing the passages with this character).

But from this chapter on, I started to lose the desire to write and had to force myself to finish the story. I tried to do my best, but I feel that compared to the rest of what I've written, it's a bit sloppy. I hope you'll still enjoy this ending.

oOoOoOo

So if I summarize, Ryan must die for us to live? Asked Neville Longbottom

Harry Dursley hadn't planned on telling them so much. However, he also hadn't planned on being bombarded with questions by the 5 teenagers throughout the entire journey. Those 5 apparently had a habit of getting their interlocutor to spill the beans.

When they had started to become too insistent, Harry Dursley had tried to shake them off, but to his dismay, Lord Harry was even more skilled than him in flying. Of course, in front of his double's smug look, he blamed his failure on his concern for the terror his aerial performances caused Dark-Harry, but a little voice in the back of his mind told him otherwise. At the same time, he probably had the opportunity to train throughout his childhood with James Potter, he thought with jealousy. Or not, he thought, recalling how James and Lily Potter had treated him when he had tried to ask them for help.

Unless we manage to gather the Deathly Hallows before Voldemort and are able to use them. He replied.

For the first time in my life, I am transported with joy at the thought of not being in Ryan's place. At least now I know why our parents and Dumbledore are so excessively concerned about his well-being. They must know that he is going to die and think that he must be surrounded by love to avoid being possessed by the horcrux. Commented Lord Harry, who didn't really know what he should feel about this news. Over time, his brother and he had almost become strangers, but as he had discovered when Pettigrew had kidnapped his brother, the idea of his disappearance caused a sort of emptiness in him.

That's not love. Against Neville.

And despite all his faults, my father is too honest to go along with such a scheme. Elizabeth also protested.

I will ask Uncle Remus if he was aware. And if so, why he didn't tell me anything all this time. Nevertheless, insisted Lord-Harry.

In my world, Dumbledore hadn't told anyone. Not even me. However, everything is so different here. I can't even understand how he could have survived the Avada Kedavra without Lily's sacrifice. For all I know, he might not even be a Horcrux. Explained Harry Dursley.

How can we know? Asked Neville.

Harry Dursley thought for a few seconds.

His scar. Before the horcrux was destroyed, my scar always hurt when Voldemort was near. Since then, nothing. Do you know if Ryan's scar has ever hurt him?

Lord Harry turned pale as his friends suddenly looked at him with pity.

What!? Asked Harry Dursley.

Please look ahead of you. Dark-Harry shouted, pointing with a trembling finger at a gigantic mansion they were rapidly approaching. Flying was definitely not his thing.

I'm going down on purpose. I think it's the Riddle Manor. Yes, I would recognize this cemetery anywhere. Commented Harry Dursley, shivering. The Gaunt house must not be far. We need to find a ruined shack in the middle of a forest. He added.

oOoOoOo

For more efficiency in their searches, they decided to split up. In any case, that was the excuse Lord Harry gave to quickly distance himself from the others. But that was without considering the legendary persistence of Elizabeth Black.

It doesn't mean anything. He said it himself.

Do you really believe it? Obviously, I am a horcrux. It would have been a blot if, just once in my life, I could have had a minimum of luck. A young death was all that was missing to conclude in apotheosis such a pathetic life.

Despair is not in your character, my darling. Whatever the problem, we will find a solution. Together, as always. She said, moving closer to him to try to embrace him. But he pushed her away.

Aren't you disgusted? Now that you know my true nature? Lord Harry asked with fragility.

If you think I'm going to let go of the only boy in our year that my father couldn't scare away, you're deluding yourself. I don't care who your soul belongs to, the rest is mine. She said as she finally managed to capture his lips.

I still don't understand what I did to deserve you, commented Lord Harry once the kiss ended.

Me neither. And yet, it's not for lack of trying. Elizabeth replied cheekily, before trying to steal one last kiss.

Now completely oblivious to their mission or that they were hanging 200 meters above the ground, Lord Harry willingly let her do it. He did not know how she managed it, but Elizabeth always succeeded in driving away all his worries. It had been that way since the day when, at age 6, she had found him sitting alone in a remote room of the Potter manor where his parents had confined him (with lines to write), so that he would not spoil his twin brother's birthday party (completely forgetting that it was also his birthday).

Blacks are too honest for their own good.

I thought about giving you a reassuring platitude, but the only thing that came to mind is that I love you because you are unique. Elizabeth continued to mock.

Ah ah ah! I'm dying of laughter. Raya gently Lord-Harry, as he began to focus again on the landscape at their feet.

What do you think of the others? Elizabeth asked after a moment.

Lord Harry did not need the young girl to specify whom she was talking about. However, he didn't know what to think of his doubles. In fact, he still didn't know if he should believe this preposterous story. On one hand, every time he thought about it, the most likely seemed to him that it was a disguised impostor. Or anything else. There was no shortage of more credible explanations. But during all those years when he had to face Voldemort's plots to reach Ryan, he had learned to trust his instincts. And here, it was screaming at him that the visitors were telling him the truth. At least about their origin, because he could see that they were hiding things from him. In any case, if there were things worse than horcruxes, he wasn't sure he wanted to know them.

Just because he looks like me doesn't mean you should trust them. Even if they are indeed my doubles, they remain complete strangers. You must remain cautious.

Before he could say more, Lord-Harry had to raise his hand to his forehead. His scar was burning like never before. By reflex, he used his Occlumency shields to push back the pain and stay focused on his surroundings. It might have been a figment of his imagination, but he hadThe impression of seeing something stir within him. Something that did not belong to him. Something unhealthy.

oOoOoOo

Quickly, the group of teenagers settled at the edge of the sinister woods. As soon as they set foot on the ground, Dark-harry let out a deep sigh of relief just before moving away from the place, without noticing that Harry Dursley seemed upset.

What's going on? Is everything okay? Asked the boy his age whom Harry Dursley had finally identified as Neville Longbottom. Another person who had been killed by Voldemort in his universe.

Yes, everything is fine. It's just that using this wand exhausts me. It resists me way too much. Harry Dursley replied, forcing himself to get up.

That's when Dark-harry intervened:

Liar. It's like last time. Without the cape, you will die.

But no, it has nothing to do with it. Last time, it took me two days to feel the effects of traveling to another universe. He tried to reassure Dark-Harry, carefully avoiding mentioning that it was probably because last time, he had quickly gotten his hands on the cloak.

Stop lying to me. I'm not a baby. I feel weak too. Replied Dark-Harry.

What is this story? Asked Neville.

The last time I found myself in a universe that was not mine, I gradually lost my strength until I fainted, and according to Dumbledore, I would have died if being covered by the cloak of death hadn't miraculously restored my strength.

You should have told us. We would have taken it before leaving. Exclaimed Lord Harry.

And take the risk of delivering her on a silver platter to Voldemort. Besides, if his Voldemort told me the truth, then Voldemort is even more affected than I am and that could play to our advantage. Replied Harry Dursley.

In the meantime, we can't risk you fainting in the middle of a battle. You two stay here and keep watch. Cast red sparks with your wand if you see anything approaching.

Out of the question. I'm the only one who stands a chance against him. But for you, it's a good idea. Replied Harry Dursley, pointing to Dark-Harry.

After a moment of hesitation, he replied:

I don't want to stay here alone.

Don't act like a child. You will be safer here.

You don't trust me anymore, is that it? I explained to you though. Exclaimed Dark-harry.

It has nothing to do with it. And even if it seems crazy, since you still haven't apologized, I still trust you. When will you trust me? asked Harry-Dursley.

Why should I trust you? You are like everyone else. As soon as it was in your interest, you got rid of me.

Harry Dursley sighed and replied:

Listen, I messed up, I'm really sorry. I should have prevented all this from happening. I can't blame you for being deceived by Voldemort. Adults much more experienced than you have been seduced by his lies. I should have protected you better. But I was possessed by Voldemort, and believe me, death is a much better fate. But now is not the time to talk about it. He added in front of Dark-Harry's skeptical look.

After a moment, Dark-Harry asked, embarrassed:

If you don't come back, what would I do?

I will come back, I promise you. And if someone approaches, you point your wand towards the sky making this gesture then you run as far as possible without stopping until you reach the nearest police station. There, you will ask to see Tom Hunter. In my world, he was a policeman you could trust. Do you understand?

Dark-harry gently made the gesture and a spray of red stars lazily emerged from his wand.

Perfect, you will be a great wizard later. Commented Harry Dursley with a smile.

The cabin

Cautiously, they ventured into the forest in silence. Even if Lord-Harry's scar hadn't been burning regularly, they would have had no doubt that they were in the right place. The air was saturated with dark magic to the point that the vegetation seemed to have been affected. Everywhere rose groves of black grass with a menacing appearance, and the trees seemed twisted, almost tortured. However, Harry Dursley felt less affected than the first time he had come. Probably because he was no longer a Horcrux, he thought.

Very quickly, they came across an old ruined cabin that Harry Dursley immediately recognized. Too quickly, they thought. During the journey, Harry Dursley had warned them. The place would probably be protected and concealed by powerful spells. Yet here, it was as if he had been guided to get there as quickly as possible. However, despite their wariness, they had no choice but to continue.

Lords Harry went ahead of their small group and made a series of silent gestures to his friends that reminded Harry Dursley of those the military used to communicate discreetly among themselves. Immediately, the others formed a combat formation allowing each to cover the blind spots of the others. Apparently, this was not their first adventure of this type together.

Then with the tip of his wand, Lords Harry pushed the half-broken door which opened with a sinister creak. One by one, they entered the abandoned shack. The interior was dark and filled with dust.

It's too quiet. I don't really like that. I prefer when it's a bit less calm. Declared Neville, frantically pointing his wand in all directions.

There's nothing here but dust. We're going to get the punishment of the century for nothing. Commented Elizabeth, looking with disgust at a pile of debris from which a rat had just escaped.

Maybe in this universe Voldemort hid the stone in another place, defended Harry Dursley, who sensed a slight accusation in Elizabeth's words.

Or else we arrive too late. Maybe Voldemort has already passed through. Suggested Lucas Cross, who with Jenny had stayed on the doorstep of the house to guard the entrance.

Silence! And stay on your guard. There is something dangerous here, I can feel it. Declared Lord Harry in an authoritative tone while nonchalantly rubbing his scar.

You don't know how right you are, declared a murderous voice.

A gust of icy wind closed the door and suddenly threatening darkness invaded the single room that made up the old shelter.

Neville rushed against the door and unsuccessfully tried to open it with all his strength.

Jenny! Lucas! Can you hear me? Open up, we're stuck. He shouted without receiving a response, pounding on the door.

Then he moved away violently. With a sinister noise accompanied by a distant laugh, the walls had begun to close in.

I already told you that I am claustrophobic, commented Harry Dursley.

Try the windows. Shouted Lord Harry.

First, we need to know where she is. Harry Dursley replied sarcastically.

You're the one who brought us here. Wouldn't you have an idea to get us out of this? Elizabeth asked with animosity.

You were the one who insisted on coming. I didn't ask you for anything. Harry Dursley replied irritably.

Good, everyone stay calm and regroup. Ordered Lords Harry.

But his order was completely useless, because very quickly, the advancing walls left them no choice but to huddle together to escape the tide of debris and destroyed furniture that accompanied the inexorable shrinking of the room.

At a gesture from Lord Harry, they formed a circle back to back (Harry Dursley hadn't understood the signal, but had spontaneously imitated the position of the other two).

Now that we are sure not to touch anyone, let each one try all the spells they know to get us out of here.

Bombarda

Plague Fire

Reducto

Bombarda Maxima

Confringo

Diffindo

But despite all efforts, their magic was absorbed by the walls that continued to advance. Only Harry Dursley's Fiendfyre managed for a time to slow the inexorable advance of the deadly walls, but it ended up being absorbed like the other spells with a loud belch. He continued nevertheless until they were so tightly pressed against each other that it became impossible for him to cast his favorite spell without burning them alive. What followed was just a succession of panicked screams that Harry Dursley could barely remember. Then they were so tightly pressed that he could no longer breathe properly. As he fainted from lack of oxygen, he had one last thought: "Usually dying wasn't this painful."

oOoOoOo

It had now been more than an hour since they had entered the dark forest and Dark-Harry had not heard anything from his doubles or the other teenagers. The place was curiously silent. While it was in the middle ofSummer, not a single sound emanated from the old forest. Not a bird sound. Not even the rustling of leaves. Even a Muggle would have understood that something was wrong with this forest.

To pass the time, he tried to practice casting spells with his wand, but for some reason he didn't understand, it was much harder than with the elder wand. Not only were his expelliarmus reduced to weak, harmless glows, but most importantly, the exhilarating feeling of power he felt when using the ancient wand had vanished. Instead, he felt like something was resisting him, and it quickly exhausted him.

You know they won't come back? Reasoned a smooth voice behind him.

Dark-Harry jumped and turned so quickly that his neck cracked. On the threshold of the only path connecting this cursed place to the outside world stood a young man with aristocratic features. Despite his charming appearance and casual posture, a cold sweat ran down Dark-Harry's back. In a panicked gesture, he tried to attack, but his wand slipped through his fingers and fell with a thud between the young man and him.

Your Muggles didn't teach you the most basic rule of politeness: never attack first, especially when facing someone stronger than yourself. Nargua Tom with a little seductive smile.

You tried to kill me. Exclaimed Dark-Harry who was still trembling at the memory of that moment when he thought he was leaving. In his head, a small voice resembling Vernon's pointed out that a few moments later, the one he had quickly learned to consider as an older brother had burned him alive (supposedly for his own good and that of the entire world).

For what it's worth, I'm sincerely sorry. For that and for everything you had to endure because of me. Apologized Tom Riddle.

What!? exclaimed Dark-Harry, who expected anything but an apology.

Of course, I doubt you believe me, or that it makes a difference, but know that the experience of death has... regenerated me. I hadn't realized what I had sacrificed on the path to immortality. And I owe it to you. Voldemort explained, extending his hand to him.

What did you do with the others? Asked Dark-harry, stepping back.

Me!? I did nothing to them. I did indeed move my horcrux several hours ago. And what do you think Lord Voldemort would want with a bunch of pre-pubescent teenagers? Tom Riddle replied with a face that exuded honesty.

Why did you say they wouldn't come back, then?

Oh, come on, you're smart enough to understand it yourself. You're like me: too different to be accepted by the rest of this swarming and inconsequential mass.

You are lying. He would never abandon me. And we have nothing in common.

Not now. But when I was young, you and I were the same. Like you, I grew up an orphan in the Muggle world. Like you, the adults I was entrusted to hated me out of ignorance for what I was, at an age when I didn't even know myself who I was. You and I are like insects drawn to the light. So eager for warmth that we are ready to destroy ourselves just to get closer to it. But in the end, only pain will answer our hopes. Deep down, you already know it. You understood it when he raised his wand against you. As soon as he understood what you were, how marked by darkness you were, he decided to abandon you. How can you blame him when even your parents rejected you, disgusted by the stain they saw in you?

What do you want from me? Dark-Harry replied in a harsh tone, masking his emotions as best he could.

You are pragmatic, Lord Voldemort respects that. I want you to help me seize the power of the relics.

Find yourself another sucker. I've already given.

I fear unfortunately that you have little choice. You are alone now. Alone in a world that is not ours. How long before you succumb to the effects of the journey? You need the relics as much as I do, and alone, you will never manage to obtain them.

Dark-harry hesitated for a long time. Despite Voldemort growing impatient next to him, he remained silent, casting regular and anxious glances toward the edge of the forest, which was desperately still. Then, seeing nothing coming, he nodded with visible reluctance.

Good. The first urgency is for you to get the cloak, commented Tom Riddle with satisfaction.

Revelation

Dumbledore was frantically pacing around the living room of 12 Grimmauld Place, unconcerned about the damage his anxious walking was causing to Sirius's precious Persian rug.

We must immediately start searching for them.

Let's see, Albus. After all those sleepless nights searching for Ryan, we all need a little rest. And then I shouldn't say this, but maybe it's for the best. My little Ryan needs rest, after hisTraumatic events and you know how heavy the atmosphere is when he is there. And then I feel more at ease without that bunch of snakes around. Lily opposed.

What is wrong with you? I remind you that they kidnapped my daughter, shouted Sirius Black.

Sirius, I doubt he really needed to remove it. His wife intervened: Evana Black.

Pardon? Sirius took offense.

Oh come on, Sirius. It's obvious. Even Servilus understood it. James teased him good-naturedly, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

What do you mean? What has that snake Servilus done to my daughter? Sirius exclaimed indignantly. As usual, when it came to his precious daughter, he flew off the handle.

They all looked at each other awkwardly.

You know your daughter is at an age where one starts to experiment... began James.

You think she's dating Neville. Come on, that's nonsense. Neville is a nice boy, but they are not compatible at all. My daisy has a much too strong personality for him.

Everyone did a facepalm.

My darling, you know that I love you. But sometimes, I wonder how you figured out that we were dating. Joked Evana Black.

While they tried to make Sirius accept the inconvenient truth, Albus Dumbledore used the excuse of age to sigh for a few moments and restrain the mix of anger and guilt that gripped his heart as he watched the lightness with which they treated Harry's disappearance. However, in public, he knew he had to contain his feelings. He could not afford to fall out with the Potters and the Blacks. That would happen soon enough when he had to reveal the truth about Harry to everyone. He then noticed that next to them Ryan continued, as if nothing had happened, to enjoy a gigantic ice cream cone while reading a book on Quidditch, even though his twin brother might be in danger.

This attitude, from the only family member who did not have the excuse of the presence of the phoenix web, scandalized him. Of course, Ryan's extraordinary egocentrism was a consequence as deleterious as it was unforeseen of the powerful mind control spell called the phoenix web, which he had to apply to the Potters and the Blacks so they would not prevent Harry from fulfilling his destiny through an overly protective attitude. Or rather, from the education his parents had given him under its influence. However, at this moment, itexasperated him more than ever. Was it because the current situation made him less forgiving, or had his recent abduction made him even more selfish than before? But he was violently pulled out of his thoughts before he could determine it, by a violent cry from Sirius.

No!!!! I would never tolerate a filthy snake like him touching my sand rose.

I doubt that she will ask for your permission. James half-sneered.

What!!! James, I'm warning you, with all due respect, if he so much as thinks of dishonoring her, I'll deprive him of descendants.

No, but do you hear yourself!? One would think they were hearing my father. Evana Black intervened.

It has nothing to do with it. Sirius defended himself vehemently.

Sirius, don't worry. Most girls go through a Bad-boy phase. Do you remember when I was dating Snape? It's just a passing phase. Lily tried to calm him.

Yes, Elizabeth is intelligent. Trust her, James supported.

And then you know how teenagers are. If you forbid her from seeing him, you'll only encourage her. Added Evana.

Then, to Albus's great relief, the fireplace lit up and Remus Lupin hurriedly emerged. Immediately, the friendly atmosphere became tense.

Remus. Sirius greeted him awkwardly, while James barely dared to look at him.

But the werewolf ignored them and immediately rushed at Albus.

I came as soon as I could. You said there's a problem with Harry. What have they done to him again?

How dare you insinuate that we mistreat one of our children? How can you believe that dirty snake rather than us? We are your friends, after all. Lily protested.

For any response, she received a dark look from the werewolf. Who continued to rail in Albus's direction:

I demand to see him immediately and be able to take him home. Nothing justifies his presence here anymore.

Remus, I would gladly comply with your demands if I knew where he was. Albus Dumbledore replied calmly, happy to finally have a conversation partner capable of understanding the gravity of the situation. For the first time, he was glad that Remus's nature immunized him against the effects of the phoenix's web. However, before Remus could recover from the shock of learning about the disappearance of his almost adoptive son, the house alarmHeld for the third time today. Despite the reinforced protections, someone had managed to break into the Black family's home.

Everyone hastily drew their wand. Everyone except Sirius, who, thanks to the protections, already knew the identity of the intruder. Red with anger, he ignored his friends who had taken a defensive position and rushed to the entrance, and in front of a terrified Dark-Harry, he shouted at the top of his lungs:

UNBSDRLFKJN !

Alas, what!

Ideas, each more indecent than the last, rushed into Sirius's mind to the point that he could only say:

CONDOMS? DID YOU USE CONDOMS?

oOoOoOo

After the young and almost innocent Dark-Harry had recovered from this particularly energetic welcome, he rushed to Dumbledore and explained the situation in detail, omitting nothing (including the proposal Voldemort had made to him). Contrary to what everyone seemed to think, he wasn't foolish enough to fall into the same trap twice.

He wasn't sure it was much smarter to trust the old man (especially since he knew nothing about the Dumbledore of this version). However, he didn't have the luxury of being picky in choosing his allies. Not to mention that despite all their differences, in the end, the Dumbledore of his world had sacrificed himself to try to save him.

This is nonsense. Albus, you can't seriously believe this ridiculous story about dimensional travel and resurrecting the dead. James Potter interrupted him immediately at the end of his tale.

I know you're jealous of Ryan's fame, but this time, you're going too far. Making up such a story, just to make people believe you're the survivor. Added Lily.

Tell us immediately what you did with my daughter. Yelled Black.

Only several years of training in self-control prevented Remus Lupin from yelling at his former best friends. For the umpteenth time, he wondered how this boy, so open-minded and generous who had offered him his friendship, could have become so dogmatic and hateful as he grew up. Despite Snape's insistent remarks on the subject, he refused to believe that all this time, he had been deluded about his best friends. Only someone profoundly good could have overlooked the monster living within him.

At that time when the Wolfsbane Potion was still just a fantasy, even his parents looked at him with fear. Nevertheless, he couldn't blame them. Anyone sensible would have been scared after witnessing month after month his transformations into a bloodthirsty beast whose murderous howls haunted them no matter how thick the insulation they surrounded their basement with. But he returned to the present and prepared once again to take Harry's side against his best friends. It tore him apart each time, but his only regret afterward was not being able to do it more often and more vigorously, at the risk of further reducing the time he was allowed to spend with the child who desperately needed everysecond that he could spend with an adult who did not constantly belittle him. But for once, it was not him who had this thankless task.

Harry is not a liar. If he is in danger, we must go help him. And anyway, I can see that it's not my brother. He is not at all like him. Ryan intervened, surprising everyone.

My Ryanouchet, how tender-hearted you are, but there's no need to lie to defend it,… Exclaimed Lily while hugging Ryan.

Mom, stop. Ryan replied, pushing his mother away. Harry is not at all like him. How can you not see it? The real Harry is full of confidence and his magical power is such that when he is angry, my throat gets tight.

What!? What did that dirty snake do to you? If he hurt you in any way, I'll... James threatened.

You are not going anywhere. Remus blocked him reflexively by getting between him and Dark-Harry, noticing that the latter was uncomfortable (James's attitude reminded him of his uncle).

Dumbledore then intervened in an authoritative tone:

I think Ryan is right. The priority must be to ensure that Harry and those who accompanied him on this unreasonable expedition are safe and sound. Dumbledore hoped that his intervention would convince them to finally set aside their petty disagreements to focus on the common good. Once he was sure he had their full attention, he ordered:

James, go fetch me that invisibility cloak, will you.

Albus, you can't be serious, it's a family heirloom.

Harry is part of your family, Remus intervened.

I intend it for Ryan. James retorted.

It is Harry who has the invisibility cloak. Finally, our Harry. I know he used it to go to Hogsmeade, even though you didn't give him permission. It must be somewhere in his room. Ryan reported.

How did he dare to go through my things? And why didn't you tell us anything? Don't tell me that's why you weren't safe in the Gryffindor tower when Peter took you? James asked, raising his voice for the first time in 12 years against his favorite son.

Uh, well. Ryan hesitated, suddenly uncomfortable.

I am proud of you, my son. Suddenly embracing James Potter, forgetting all notions of parental responsibility.

James! Lily scolded him playfully with a conspiratorial smile.

But Ryan pushed away with annoyance his parents' umpteenth attempt to smother him with their affection since he had woken up that morning in front of 12 Grimmauld Place without the slightest memory of the past month, which he had apparently spent under the captivity of Peter Pettigrew (and Voldemort if one believed Dumbledore's unfounded fears). Once freed from his mother's arms, he turned to Dumbledore, who was just coming out of Harry's room with a silvery fabric that rippled supernaturally despite the absence of wind.

Indeed, without anyone noticing from the moment of Ryan's revelation, Dumbledore had rushed into the eldest Potter's room with an eagerness that would have raised many questions if, as usual, all the attention had not been focused on Ryan.

Well, James and Lily stayed here with the survivor. Please contact as many members of the order as possible and tell them to get to Little Hangleton as quickly as possible. Remus, you come with me.

I'm coming with you! Ryan stopped them.

Before Dumbledore could express his annoyance at Ryan's umpteenth whim, Lily threw herself at him.

My treasure, it's so heroic of you? But you are too important for us to risk losing you.

If the prophecy is true, then only I can stop Voldemort. And even if Harry and I don't get along, I can't stand by and do nothing while he's in danger. He's my brother.

For once, Dumbledore did not have to pretend to be moved by this plea. For the first time in a long while, he began to believe that the damage he had caused to the Potter family was not entirely irreversible. He wanted so much to believe it that he did not question the causes of this sudden change in Ryan's character. Instead, he ordered in a tone that brooked no reply.

No. Your time will come, but for now, you must stay safe with your parents.

Dumbledore then cast a complicated spell and created a perfect replica of the invisibility cloak before placing the original on the first piece of furniture within reach and addressing Dark-Harry:

Until further notice, stay under this cloak. I promise to do everything to recover your double safe and sound and send you back home.

Excuse me Albus, but if this cloak is to protect someone, it's Ryan. Intervened James Potter. My son, your mother wanted to wait until you were older, but I think it's time for you to receive your inheritance. And then I have the impression that you didn't wait for our permission to use it. He added, winking at his son. Without asking for permission, James snatched the cloak from Albus's hands and with a solemn tone, raised his wand and declared solemnly:

I, James Potter, took our lineage to report their protection onto the new generation. My son, take this cloak and through it, may you be protected from everything, even death, so that you may grow and attain the wisdom necessary to accept it as an old friend.

Then a strange magic wrapped around James and Ryan Potter for a few seconds. Once it had disappeared, James gave the cloak to Ryan who accepted it with a mix of emotions difficult to decipher on his face. Ryan seemed strangely satisfied, which gave his face an unpleasant look. However, James paid no more attention to his son's strange expression than to the pensive one Dumbledore wore and explained to his son:

Our grandfather was convinced that this ritual allowed the cloak to grant its wearer special protection. That it was necessary for the cloak to recognize its wearer as its true owner and grant them all its powers. I thought it was yet another absurd pure-blood superstition and that this cloak was just a higher-quality invisibility cloak than those available on the market. But apparently, I was wrong. In order to perpetuate this ancient Potter tradition, when we were targeted by Voldemort, I preemptively performed the ritual to give the cloak to Harry, but even though he is the eldest by a few seconds, I think you deserve it more than he does. Especially now that I know it may actually have hidden and potentially dangerous powers.

Dumbledore then cleared his throat and asked in a humble voice:

James, I understand your concerns and I know I have no right to tell you what to do with such a precious object, however, if his story is accurate, I fear our guest may need the cloak to preserve his strength.

Without waiting for a response, he took the cloak from Ryan's hand (who seemed very unhappy about it) and placed it at Dark-Harry's disposal on a piece of furniture next to him.

Then without further hesitation, Dumbledore went to the doorstep of 12 Grimmauld Place and disapparated while Lily threw a handful of green powder into the kitchen fireplace.

Meanwhile, Dark-Harry headed for the cloak, wondering if he could really trust the old man, before being intercepted by this brother he didn't know what to think of. His only experience of brotherhood was his more than painful interactions with Dudley. So at first glance, he had no desire to get closer to him. However, he was a real brother, and what had just happened gave him a faint hope that he might be less disappointing than his parents. Thus, he did not distrust him when he dragged him into one of the many rooms of the Blacks' manor, away from the prying eyes of adults.

oOoOoOo

Author's note: I shamelessly borrowed the idea of a blind Sirius to the love stories around him from the excellent fic:Le-Dernier-Secret ofEllana-san I know that plagiarism is not good, but it's way too funny not to be copied.

Reader: A bit like Doctor House's lines in Harry Dursley?

Serpenfou throws a smoke bomb on the ground, spends 10 minutes on the ground coughing his lungs out because of the smoke, then runs away.

Counterattacks

Am I dead? Harry Dursley stammered weakly.

Yes, but that's not your biggest problem. Responded a smooth voice he knew all too well.

Harry Dursley started and realized that he was immobilized by bonds. Reflexively, he tried to use his magic to break them, but the only result was cries of pain coming from behind him.

Although this show is very entertaining, it is completely useless. Your links are magically enchanted to redirect any spell cast on them to your companions. But who knows, if you put enough power into it maybeWill they eventually die of pain, thus depriving your bonds of a target to unload your attacks?

Fucking sadists. Is this fun for you? Shouted Harry Dursley.

Not really. I would much prefer to be able to convince you to join the ranks of my allies. Unfortunately, your past obstinacy prevents me from giving any credit to this possibility. Fortunately, your double is less dogmatic. Replied Tom Riddle.

Harry Dursley thought of Dark-Harry and for the first time took a quick glance at his surroundings. They were locked in a dark and dusty cellar which, if he trusted the dark magic permeating the place, was located next to the Gaunt shack. Probably, he was in its basement. Around him, tied to a beam by a long enchanted rope resembling a snake, were Lord-Harry and his companions who were slowly regaining consciousness after the painful awakening he had inflicted on them. But there was no sign of Dark-Harry.

What did you do to him? Asked Harry Dursley.

But nothing. I do not have enough servants to afford the luxury of mistreating those I have left. Especially since it was not difficult to convince him to help me capture you. Unlike you, he knows where his interest lies.

We'll deal with that traitor later. What does Voldemort plan to do with us, you filthy Death Eater? interrupted Lord Harry, who had recovered more quickly than his companions from Harry Dursley's involuntary attack and his fainting from suffocation.

He is not a traitor. Attempted to defend him, Harry Dursley while Tom Riddle burst into a cold and cruel laugh. But everyone ignored him.

Assurance is the sister of ignorance. I am the one you have so clumsily decided to challenge. I am Lord Voldemort.

A wave of disbelief struck the group of young teenagers.

You don't really look like Voldemort. Dared to comment Jenny Nott, who had apparently also been captured after their fainting.

Interesting? May I have more details, young heiress of noble lineage?

He is already much older than you. Jenny Nott immediately replied, pretending not to be sensitive to her current helplessness.

And then did you see his face? How did someone so ugly manage to gain people's trust? Seriously, I've seen gargoyles with a face that screamed less loudly: 'I am a demonic creature,' added Lucas.

And then ...

Enough! Voldemort interrupted them, sending a wave of magic onto the rope which in turn inflicted a good dose of pain on each of them. On second thought, I don't need to keep all of you alive. If my initial plan fails, your presence will be enough to force my enemies to give me the cloak. He continued dangerously, pointing at Lord Harry.

But it was his turn to burst out laughing.

If you think my parents will give you even a tissue in exchange for my life.

You are the naive one if you think that Lord Voldemort bets his future on the existence of nonsense such as motherly love. Your parents are nothing but insignificant pawns. Dumbledore, on the other hand, will sacrifice everything for his precious survivor.

Lord-Potter barely restrained himself from contradicting him. He was too afraid of what this young and seductive version of the Dark Lord would do to them when he realized that in this world, he was not the survivor.

And then I must say that I was curious to meet my creator.

What is this new craze? Asked Lord Harry, bewildered.

The strict truth. This world is the one that preceded mine. Whether it is due to the little strength of soul we still possessed after splitting our soul into seven pieces or because only the Elder Wand allowed us to access the entirety of its power, but until now, we did not have the possibility to go back beyond the previous iteration. Your clumsy use of the relics in the future resulted in the creation of a world without that twin brother who betrayed you until the end. A world where I do not have the leniency to spare your parents. Explained Dark-Harry's Voldemort while gently caressing Lord Harry's cheek to enjoy the shiver of pain and disgust he felt at this contact.

You see, I told you that you should try to reconcile with Ryan. He's not so mean when you get to know him well, Neville intervened.

You're kidding. We just got proof that it's easier to modify the structure, even of the universe, than to get along with him. Against Elizabeth Black.

An alarm sounded then, causing the features of the young Voldemort to stretch into a wicked smile that distorted his features.

Even the worst unconsciousness could not explain your nonchalance. What a pity that you will not live long enough for experience to teach you to fear me. Nevertheless, dear Petter will do what he can in the short time he has.

A rat advanced and before their disgusted gaze turned into a small man with a balding head.

Yes master.

Don't forget, for now, I need them alive. As soon as that weakling Dumbledore has given in to my demands, I will send you the agreed signal and you can take revenge on your old friends.

I thank you, master, for the opportunity you offer me. Pettigrew spread servilely.

Voldemort ignored him and turned back to the Harry Dursleys:

Don't worry. We both know that death is just a bad moment to get through.

Then he burst into an evil laugh and rose into the air up to the cellar ceiling, which he passed through as if it were made of mist.

oOoOoOo

Lord Harry despaired of being able to free himself. After several unsuccessful attempts, he convinced himself that he could never break Voldemort's binding spell. Despite all his efforts, despite all his training, he was still too weak to protect his adoptive family, he thought, looking at the worried and desperate faces of his friends. But there was still one thing he could do. He turned to Pettigrew, who was nervously twirling his wand between his fingers, pointing at each of the children in front of him before suddenly retracting. Harry remembered that before leaving, the dark lord had ordered him to torture them. He decided to feign anger and shout:

So rat, are you happy? I'm sure you think you're very clever for having managed to deceive my father for so long. But in truth, you're just a coward who has spent his life hiding behind someone stronger than him. Lord-Harry taunted.

It was probably not very smart to provoke him, but if anyone were to suffer from this fiasco, it would be him and not those who had followed him. But Pettigrew did not seem affected by his words and replied in a calm tone tinged with nostalgia:

You really look like your father. Without knowing it, Peter had just given him the worst possible insult, and this time, with sincere emotion, he exclaimed vehemently:

We have nothing in common.

For a Slytherin, you make little of your heritage. You are the spitting image of your father at the same age. In qualities as well as flaws. The same tendency to sacrifice everything for his friends, the same arrogance in his certainty of being on the right side, the same overconfidence in his abilities to face all dangers and come out unscathed. If you don't want to resemble him, instead of sinking into denial, you would do better to ask yourself where the path you have chosen is leading you.

And you should ask yourself if you have not deluded yourself about my father as much as he was mistaken about you. Like you, he only cares about his own interests and does not shy away from any betrayal or lie to achieve his goals.

But to his great surprise, it was his double who answered.

It's easy for you to judge others. You've never had to endure any constraints. Never had to make the slightest difficult choice. You're right, you're like James. You judge without knowing and you're too stubborn to listen to those who have an opinion contrary to yours.

You too want to join the Dark Lord. Accused Lord-Harry without thinking.

The world is not so binary. Replied Harry Dursley.

In a war, yes. Asserted Lord-Harry.

Silence! Ordered Petter, before casting a silence spell on both of them. Let's be clear, I don't care what you think of me. You are now in the hands of the lord of darkness and he is determined to finish it. The only help I can still offer you is a quick and painless death.

Your lordship is too kind. We thank you on our knees. Elizabeth Black said ironically.

If you had not grown up in an overly protected bubble, this is what you would do. Take his last moments as a privilege and use them to make peace with yourself. Most of the dark lord's enemies did not have this chance.

Then without waiting for their response, Petter turned his back to them, leaving them a bit of privacy (even though he remained present). After a few moments of anxious silence, Lord-Harry asked Harry Dursley:

What do you have against me?

I have nothing against you. I don't even know you. Replied Harry Dursley.

Really? It's hard to believe considering how you behave.

Well, I'm jealous, there you go, happy now.

Jealous!? But of what? Asked Lord-Harry

Oh, I could spend the day listing them, but in the end, it comes down to one thing: you are not the survivor.

This is indeed the first time someone sees that as an advantage.

In this case, people are idiots. Being the survivor means being alone, losing all your friends, your family, everyone.

A silence followed this statement. After a while, Peter murmured so faintly that he wasn't sure he had heard.

Harry is the true survivor. And it is neither your fault nor yours if innocents die during the power struggles between Dumbledore and Voldemort.

Lord Harry immediately flew into a rage:

Don't try to lie to me, dirty rat. Ryan is the real survivor.

I was severely punished for believing him. Peter indicated while removing a glove that hid a sinister stump extended by a fake hand made of an unknown material resembling white crystal. But blood does not lie. And Ryan's proved too weak to resurrect my master. When we tried, the ritual generated a body too weak to contain his power for more than a few minutes. Desperate and on the brink of disappearing, my master had to admit defeat and seek a new host. At that moment, I thought my last hour had come. Being possessed by the lord of darkness must be a fate worse than death. Just thinking about it... But it was not me he set his sights on, but Ryan.

Ryan! What did you do to my brother? Exclaimed Lord-Harry.

You should rather blame me for what I didn't do to him. The Dark Lord was weak. I could have finished off Ryan before he fully possessed him. But I was paralyzed by fear and indecision. For a Gryffindor, I have never been very courageous. But what's done is done. Anyway, that's when Voldemort's double appeared. Apparently, the portals only open towards moments when the relics' user is dead. Or in the case of the Dark Lord, a substitute for death. In any case, even if I had decided to act, he would probably have stopped me. Whatever the case, it didn't take them long to understand the cause of our failure and blame me for being fooled by Dumbledore's propaganda. That Halloween day 13 years ago, it wasn't Ryan that Voldemort turned his wand on, but you: you are the true survivor, the chosen one meant to save us all. Or rather you were. Whatever the prophecy says, you are no longer in a state to save anyone.

Unless you help us. Proposed Harry Dursley.

Peter burst into a dark laugh.

When did you lay eyes on me and see a hero? As I already said, I am far too cowardly to be a Gryffindor. Besides, if I hadn't begged the hat to send me to the same house as James, the Sorting Hat would never have chosen to send me to the lions.

His stories about houses are nonsense. I'm in Slytherin and yet I'm braver than most Gryffindors. And whatever Ryan's worshippers say, Neville shows more sense than the Slytherins whohave no other ambition than to bow down before this monster you dare call a master. If you have any trace of honor left, if you were ever truly friends with my father for a single moment, then help us. Lord-Harry addressed him.

It was extremely fleeting, but for a few seconds Peter seemed to hesitate. But finally, he let out an exasperated sigh and replied:

Since it seems that you are not decided to give up, perhaps to have peace, I should apply the methods advocated by my master.

In order to make his tirade more credible, Peter raised his wand menacingly. It was then that a cry resounded behind him:

EXPELLIARMUS!

Even before his mysterious enemy had finished his incantation, he had reflexively conjured a shield on which his opponent's weak spell crashed, then as he turned around, he began to cast the death spell:

Avada Kedavr

But before pronouncing the last syllable, he hesitated for a few seconds. Half-hidden behind an old barrel, two green eyes filled with terror stared at him. For a few moments, he remembered the days that had followed the birth of the Potter twins. Hours he had spent with the other three marauders marveling at the newborns and mocking the increasingly visible dark circles under their father's eyes. Those had been their last moments together. Their last moments of genuine camaraderie before suspicion and then betrayal came to poison their friendship, which everyone had believed to be invincible.

For a few seconds, he paused his movement and hesitated. Facing such a weak opponent, it shouldn't have had any consequence. Even if he was one of the weakest, he was still a Death Eater trained by nearly a decade of combat. However, when he cleared his mind of distracting thoughts and decided to eliminate the intruder, the magical prosthesis that now replaced his left hand rose of its own will and strangled him. For several minutes, he struggled with all his might. Pushing away, scratching, and biting this cursed appendage, the result of the generosity of the Dark Lord. When, out of breath, he collapsed on the dusty floor, he implored the intruder with his eyes as they slowly advanced towards him:

James help me. He tried to plead, but only a thin trickle of voice escaped his throat.

In any case, the intruder paid him no attention and merely stepped over him without any compassion to approach the group of teenagers. Before taking his last breath, he didn't really know why, but instead of using what little air remained in his lungs toTrying to free himself one last time, he murmured the counter-spell. As he closed his eyes, the bonds holding the teenagers broke, without them being aware of to whom they owed their liberation. His last thought before fading away was that his animagus form suited him after all: whatever he did, he only aroused indifference and disgust.

oOoOoOo

As soon as his bonds disappeared, Harry Dursley rushed towards Petter, but he quickly realized that he could do nothing more for him. He didn't really know what he felt about Petter. Traitor in the service of Voldemort responsible for the death of his parents, a faithful pet who saved his skin several times during his two years at Hogwarts, zealous servant of Voldemort and actor with an indeterminate role in the final downfall of Voldemort in his world and the end of his possession by him. He was all of that at once, and he didn't know whether hatred, pity, or gratitude prevailed when he thought of him. Finally, he closed his eyes and turned around to find that he had other more urgent problems to solve:

What are you doing!? Release him immediately. He ordered upon seeing that Lord Harry and his gang had started to mistreat Dark-Harry while his back was turned.

Out of the question to let this traitor roam free. First, he will reveal everything he knows, and then we'll see if we spare him. Replied Lord-Potter while, with a nonverbal spell, he lifted into the air by the ankle the body of Dark-Harry, who was silently struggling. Apparently, he had applied a silencing spell on him to prevent him from calling for help and alerting any potential accomplices of Voldemort. This also prevented him from using the few spells he knew to defend himself.

No, are you out of your mind? He came to help us. Against Harry Dursley

That remains to be proven. You heard Voldemort. Those two are working together.

If you had a little experience, you would know not to believe anything that comes out of Voldemort's mouth. Without him, we would still be prisoners. And anyway, I trust him. Release him and let him explain himself. Unless you're afraid of a 9-year-old child.

After a glance at the other teenagers who nodded. Reluctantly, Lord Harry lowered Peter Pettigrew's wand that he had picked up when it rolled over to him. Surprisingly, it worked quite well for him. Immediately, Dark-Harry fell heavily to the ground and Harry Dursley helped him up.

What are you doing here? I told you to stay safe. Harry Dursley couldn't help but reproach him once he made sure he was unharmed.

You should rather thank me for saving your skin. Dark-harry pushed him away angrily.

Okay. Excuse me, what happened outside? How did you find us?

If you don't mind, I would first like to know how he got in. This may seem selfish to you, but I have an urgent need to no longer be locked in the basement of a bloodthirsty psychopath. Neville interrupted them, pointing out the lack of an obvious exit.

Whether it was because of Peter's corpse that was beginning to decompose, the dark magic permeating the place, or the fact that Voldemort could return at any moment to finish them off, everyone immediately agreed that knowing the details of Dark-Harry's adventures could wait. Unfortunately, he was quite unable to show them the way out.

I just went down a staircase, felt like a cold draft enveloped me, and I found myself here. Declared Dark-Harry, pointing at a hopelessly solid wall.

Lord Harry tried every spell he knew to open a door or reveal a secret passage, but nothing worked. In desperation, he cast a bombarda, but the spell was absorbed by the wall. Apparently, the walls of this cellar had the same protections as those that had nearly crushed them earlier in the day. Despite appearances, they were still prisoners. It made one wonder why Voldemort had bothered to leave Peter to guard them.

After a moment of reflection, Lord Harry handed the only wand they had left to Jenny and Lucas.

Your turn to play the two terrors.

Are you crazy? Do you want us to end up buried under tons of rubble? Protested Lucas.

The fact that we all voluntarily threw ourselves into this hornet's nest proves that we have long surpassed the limits of madness. But as crazy as it may seem, it is our only hope. Try to control the blast as much as possible. Lord Harry replied before quickly fleeing to the other side of the room with his other friends.

Harry Dursley and Dark-harry did not understand what was happening, but they imitated them.

Do you think it will work? Elizabeth asked very softly.

According to Dumbledore, love is the most powerful magic. Lord Harry replied, shrugging his shoulders.

Love is a choice. That's why it's so powerful. What binds them has nothing to do with love. Elizabeth replied.

Well, let's hope that imposed love is as powerful as consensual love, because otherwise we are in trouble.

Can someone explain to me? Asked Harry Dursley loudly.

But before he got his answer, Jenny and Lucas held hands, and they were immediately enveloped in an intense white light.

Bombarda! Jenny and Lucas shouted in unison before a massive shock resounded and knocked them to the ground. When they reopened their eyes, they had to close them immediately as the sun's rays were unbearable to their eyes now accustomed to the darkness.

Once he had regained his senses, Harry Dursley commented:

Wow! What was that?

We haven't the slightest idea. All we know is that for a few months now, when we hold hands, our spells are like amplified. Lucas replied.

Your Jenny and your Lucas don't have this problem? Jenny asked.

No. Oh yes, once, I think something similar happened and then... and then...

What happened next? It could help us understand what's happening to us.

Afterwards they died, killed by my Voldemort while he possessed Ginny.

I don't know what is worse to imagine. That I am dead or that that pest Ginny beat me. Commented Jenny.

She is not so unpleasant when you get to know her well. Defended Harry Dursley.

Ah, you see, I keep saying it. Bounce back immediately Lucas.

If she's that great, what are you waiting for to join her fan club of Ryan? That way, she could become your new best friend.

Maybe she, at least, wouldn't attack me for no reason as soon as I don't go her way.

And what has gotten into both of you? Asked Harry Dursley, shocked by this sudden and seemingly reasonless argument between the two inseparable friends.

But they ignored him and started shouting at each other, without bothering to be discreet. In fact, it seemed that apart from shouting at each other, nothing else mattered to them.

Leave them. It's the backlash of the curse. In a few minutes, they will have reconciled. Lord Harry gently explained in his ear while discreetly moving him away.

What is this story about a curse?

Shh, they mustn't know anything. Replied Lord Harry.

If they are cursed, they have the right to know. What kind of friend are you? Against Harry Dursley

The kind ready to do anything for his friends to survive. I think it’s something we share. Explained Lord-Harry to Harry Dursley and Dark-Harry (the latter had approached, interested in knowing the source of such power and disgusted to know that it was beyond his reach). Jenny and Lucas are what we call soulmates.

They are not together. And since when is it a curse? Replied Harry Dursley.

It is a very rare magical phenomenon that inspired the story of Romeo and Juliet and about which we have very little information. So little information that we are not even sure if that's what they have, but the symptoms match perfectly. In summary, for some obscure reason at their birth, instead of each joining their respective body, their soul split in two and each received half of the other's soul. In such a way that they actually form a single person separated into two different bodies. The more time passes, the more they will be forced to spend time together and get closer until... Anyway, whether they like it or not, they are destined to end up together. If all goes well, they will live an increasingly symbiotic relationship until their minds merge and their magic resonates. However, if we interfere by forcing them to separate or, conversely, to get closer prematurely, they will suffer greatly. During my second year, Jenny and Lucas almost died. And after that, it was Elizabeth and Draco. Since then, I promised myself to do everything to never experience that again, so you better not try to interfere.

Ok, I won't say anything,... Wait, are you friends with Draco Malfoy?

Yes, and so? Do you also have prejudices?

Yes, I have always considered that the Nazis were scum.

What is a NAZI? A magical creature from your world?

It's the Muggle equivalent of Death Eaters. Jenny Nott intervened, who apparently had just finished her argument with Lucas.

Draco is not a Death Eater!

The one in my world didn't need it to be as odious as them. And anyway, his father is Voldemort's right-hand man and you are the survivor. You can't trust him.

For the last time, I am not the survivor.

But did you hear what Peter said?

If you had a bit of experience, you would know not to believe anything that comes out of a Death Eater's mouth.

You are even more stubborn than my father. Peter is right, you really look like him. Elizabeth Black intervened with fervor before striding away from him.

I have nothing to do with this pathetic excuse for a human being.

But why do you refuse to admit the obvious?

And you, why do you want so much for me to be the survivor? If it's glory you're after, you've chosen the wrong brother.

You're right, I'm talking nonsense. You're even more obnoxious and narrow-minded than my father. Elizabeth shouted at him before moving away as far as possible.

Ah women! Sighed Lord-Harry

And don't complain, guys, it's worse. Added Jenny, loud and clear enough for Lucas to hear. The latter, in an intense demonstration of maturity, stuck out his tongue and asked:

So what do we do now?

First, Harry is going to apologize to Elizabeth.

What!? But I have no reason to apologize. Lord Harry objected.

We need to go back to my original plan and warn Dumbledore. Harry Dursley interrupted them, having little interest in the relationship stories of his double.

No, there is something more urgent. We must immediately return to 12 Grimmauld Place to free Ryan from the grip of our Voldemort.

He is no longer at 12 Grimmauld Place. Said Dark-Harry in a small voice.

That would surprise me. Our parents would never have let him leave the safety of the Black manor after what happened. Against Lord-Potter.

That is to say that... I had no choice... I had to save you... How could I know. Then stammered Dark-Harry.

What have you done?

oOoOoOo

One hour earlier. Just after Voldemort had left the group of teenagers in the care of Peter Pettigrew. Dumbledore and Remus had just appeared at the edge of the forest.

Hardly had they begun to cautiously venture in when a wave of dark magic took their breath away. The sky darkened and a clearing appeared in the midst of the tangled trees returned to a wild state, from which a young man descended slowly without any support, who might have been handsome without the wicked smile that marred his features.

My dear old professor. I had not invited you to come witness my triumph. However, be certain that I appreciate your presence. Voldemort of Dark-Harry welcomed them.

Hello Tom. You look more (...) whole. I would have hoped that such a miracle would allow you to question your goals. The director replied calmly, while Remus stood paralyzed with fear at his side.

That's the case. I understood my mistake. Divided, my soul deprived me of access to a much greater form of immortality. Only a being whose soul is whole can claim to fully use the power of the relics to their full potential. Tom replied as if it were a casual conversation with an old acquaintance.

I'm starting to believe that you are truly another Voldemort. You don't even try to convince me to join you or to doubt my allies. Usually suspicion and venom are your favorite weapons.

You know me well, old man. Unfortunately, I don't know this iteration of you well enough to engage in such games. Anyway, the real entertainment will only begin after your death.

In that case, I'm afraid you will have to wait a long time. Whatever your plans are, I urge you to give them up. A new chance is being offered to you, Tom. Don't waste it by diving into another frantic quest for power. Somewhere deep inside you, there must be a part that regrets. That aspires to something other than this life.

Your double made sure a long time ago to take away all hope from him. It's one of the many things I would correct when I have seized the relics.

The relics!? The Harry from your world told me everything, Tom. I had hoped until the end that he had lied to me. What do you know about them? What is their power? What do you intend to do with them?

I am delighted to learn that this coward told you everything. It spares me tedious explanations, and I want at least one person to understand what I am going to do to the world.

You talk too much. Dumbledore said, raising his wand at the moment of casting the spell he had discreetly prepared during this version of Tom's monologue. But to his great bewilderment, instead of seeing Dark-Harry's Voldemort and the surroundings being torn apart by a surge of pure magic, his wand slipped from his hands to be caught by Ryan Potter, who had just emerged from nowhere with a wicked smile.

On the contrary, I think it's the beginning of a beautiful show, old fool. Ryan replied sarcastically.

Avada Kedavra shouted simultaneously Voldemort and Ryan towards Dumbledore who, taken by surprise, could not react in time. A flash of fire cracked and a gigantic phoenix appeared in all its glory and intercepted the Avada ofRyan, as Remus with a wide sweep of his wand lifted a huge rock to intercept Voldemort's Avada.

What's gotten into you, Ryan? And what are you doing here? asked Remus.

It is not Ryan. I should have realized it as soon as he returned. Or at least considered it. Exclaimed Dumbledore.

Ryan then said in a nasty voice:

You are insightful, old fool, but don't be too hard on yourself. Even I had not considered possessing it. I was forced into this humiliating necessity after that incompetent Pettigrew used the blood of that false survivor to resurrect me. He was so weak that the body produced by his blood did not survive more than a few seconds against my incredible power. Without the intervention of my double, this piece of my soul would have been destroyed in the process. Ryan announced in a cold voice before apparating next to the young Voldemort.

You didn't touch my version of Potter as I asked you. Asked Voldemort from Dark-Harry.

Yes, but it wasn't easy. That idiot insisted on coming with me. He was convinced that I wanted to rush to the real survivor's rescue. Anyway, thanks to him, I was able to seize the cloak and escape without raising the alarm. I let them go to rescue his friends. Peter should have no trouble taking care of him.

After this response that seemed to half satisfy him, Dark-Harry's Voldemort pretended to seize the cloak and the wand.

However, Ryan instinctively recoiled, which Remus and Dumbledore took advantage of to attack him. Despite the absence of a wand, Remus was astonished to find that Dumbledore's spells remained more powerful than his own. Even weakened, the headmaster's power terrified the beast inside him to the point of wondering how he could have been reckless enough to challenge him for something as trivial as formalizing his adoption of Harry. However, it was almost mechanically that Ryan returned their attacks.

This wand is amazing. Now I know how you managed to keep up with me despite all the limitations your stupid morals imposed on you. But now I am the one who holds the ultimate power. Ryan taunted Dumbledore.

Idiot! This power is only a pale reflection of what could be ours, asserted the Voldemort from Dark-Harry's world.

Do you mean yours? Do you think Voldemort is stupid enough? Against the Voldemort of this world.

Yes, because I am you. But we will talk about it another time. The anti-disapparition barrier I just invoked will not hold them forever. Reminded the Voldemort from Dark-Harry's world.

Avada Kedavra !

Endoloris!

They shouted simultaneously as their opponents retreated behind a series of extremely elaborate shields. Remus cursed as he felt his magic unravel under the insane power assaults of the two dark mages. The beast in him screamed to flee through the woods, and he would indeed have had a better chance of survival by trying to dodge the shots rather than block them, but despite all the resentment he had accumulated over the years towards the way he treated the Potters (and the consequences it had had on Harry), he could not abandon the old man whose physical condition would never allow him to keep up with the wolf's running pace.

Dumbledore then apologized with a pitiful voice:

It seems that I owe you an apology. You were right to say that I was blinded by my arrogance. If I had doubted myself a little more, I would never have faced danger without solid reinforcements.

I hope that means that once we get through this, you will reconsider your stubbornness in keeping Harry under the care of the Potters. Lupin said painfully as large beads of sweat pearled against his forehead.

I will use what power I have left to allow you to escape (...). Dumbledore replied, ignoring his last remark.

It's out of the question. If someone has to risk their life, it's me. Without you, we have no chance of facing these monsters. Lupin protested, forgetting any weakness.

Believe me, I do not consider this possibility with a light heart, but I fear we have no other choice. Our only chance of victory is for one of us to survive to tell Harry the truth.

Harry will learn soon enough what happened to his brother. And it is out of the question to run away without finding out what happened to him.

I'm not talking about that, what I meant to say is that (…)

That he is the true survivor. Without wanting to offend you, even Neville had understood. Don't think that you'll be allowed to easily escape some explanation for your behavior over the past few years.

I freed the Potters and the Blacks from the mind control spell that was restraining them. They will need you to recover. And someone must explain to them what happened here so that they can save Harry without falling into a trap of Voldemort themselves. Because of me, no one else but them will want to sacrifice their life to save him, and Harry is now our only hope.

What?!!!

But the wolf was suddenly seized by such panic that he could no longer reflect on what Dumbledore had just confessed. With his human senses, he did not notice the difference, but the beast within him had a sixth sense for anything related to the hunt. They were now surrounded. But miraculously, the violence of the spells trying to pierce their shield was halved.

What are they doing here? I told you that as few people as possible should be involved. Exclaimed the voice of Voldemort of Dark-Harry.

If you are telling the truth, what difference will the presence of my loyal Death Eaters make? Unless from the beginning you intended to deceive me. I would be curious to know why you still haven't given me a body worthy of me. Ryan replied.

Then Ryan's face was filled with astonishment and anger when one of the men in black who had just apparated into the fort completely ignored him to kneel at the feet of his double, whose features were unmarked by the years and the creation of horcruxes.

Masters, we hardly dared to believe in your return. We are happy to see you again, younger and stronger than at the time of your disappearance.

Imbeciles! Ryan exclaimed.

Silence kid, unless you wish to find out what it costs to degrade the prestige of Voldemort in front of his followers. The Voldemort of Dark-Harry reprimanded him with a lot of arrogance. His response annoyed Ryan/Voldemort even more because, as a good Slytherin, he knew he couldn't face hisrival and ally head-on. He decided to remain silent for the moment. Seeing this, the Voldemort of Dark-Harry resumed:

As for you, if you really wanted me to forgive your betrayal of the last 13 years, know that Voldemort prefers actions to flattery.

Voldemort and Ryan waved their wands in a complicated arabesque and a mind-boggling magic burst from the ground, striking the besieged's protections head-on, shattering them with a terrible sound capable of deafening with terror even the most hardened Death Eater. However, the Death Eaters quickly recovered and began to attack Dumbledore and Lupin before they had time to reform their protection.

Remus to 3, run without looking back and come back to save Harry with reinforcements. That's an order. Dumbledore specified before the wolf could once again contest the obvious: only one of them had the necessary energy to escape.

Seeing that the wolf had finally capitulated, Dumbledore quickly countered three spells that were flying at him and addressed him with a final farewell message.

Tell the Potters that I beg them to forgive me for what I did 13 years ago.

And you think that will be enough. Reasoned the voice full of anger of James Potter. Immediately, about twenty members of the Order of the Phoenix, including the Potters and Black, rushed in from the limits of the anti-Apparition barrier created by Voldemort.

If we get out of this alive, I will kill you myself. Lily Potter shouted so furiously that her magic made her hair stand on end and the murderous gleam in her eyes made the Death Eater she confronted step back before a spell was even exchanged. At that moment, she looked a lot like Bellatrix.

How did you manage to come so quickly? You shouldn't have been able to recover so quickly from the destruction of the phenics' web. Dumbledore asked.

I have had hangovers far more painful than the headache caused by your mind control spell, and that won't stop me from saving my godson. Anyway, we were already on our way to save Ryan when the spell broke. Sirius Black shouted as he was grappling with two Death Eaters.

I don't understand anything about what's happening, but since you've suddenly managed to find a few neurons, could one of you give a wand to Dumbledore? Lupin interrupted them.

I'd rather die than even give him the time of day. Besides, you too, I have a few words for you, Remus. Can we know what you were doing all these years? Why did you wait 10 years to punch me in the face for the way I treated Harry? James reproached him after casting a not quite harmless spell on a Death Eater who collapsed from the impact.

Huh!? Exclaimed Remus who wondered if he hadn't been hit a few seconds earlier and wasn't dreaming this surreal scene. In any case, under the surprised assault of the Order members, the Death Eaters retreated and Remus took the opportunity to grant himself a few seconds of rest and catch his breath. But those were seconds too many. Suddenly, an immense green light covered the battlefield and blinded everyone present, forcing the fights to momentarily halt. Then the light disappeared as quickly as it had arrived and in its center next to the young Voldemort of theIn Dark-Harry's world stood a second Voldemort, identical in every way to the one everyone remembered, laughing heartily, distorting his snake-like features into a macabre grin. Except for Dumbledore, everyone cowered in fear at this nightmarish vision and the prospect of facing two Voldemorts. Then the old Voldemort paused and took a few seconds to contemplate his hands with their long, skeletal fingers. Apart from the Potters, no one noticed Ryan's body lying unconscious at his feet.

Incredible, what immense power.

And you haven't seen anything yet. Now that you are satisfied, let's gather the relics and put an end to all this. Declared in a cold voice the Voldemort of Dark-Harry, lowering his hand where the resurrection stone still glowed with an unhealthy green light.

Then the old Voldemort turned to the men present who were gradually regaining their senses.

All of you gathered here, friends and foes alike, represented the cream of our community. The purest bloodlines, the sharpest minds, the most skillful wands, gathered to witness the birth of a new world free of its imperfections. Unfortunately, I fear that none of you are worthy of being part of it.

The young and old Voldemort held hands, and the three relics they held between them began to glow, emanating a magic as strange as it was suffocating. A magic neither black nor white. Dumbledore was the first to recover. He began to chant, and a powerful white beam headed towards the two dark wizards but disappeared before reaching them. Without his wand and exhausted from his previous battle, Dumbledore no longer had the strength to oppose what was happening. Slowly, as if it were a signal, the fights resumed between the members of the Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters.

Dumbledore then turned to a Death Eater with gray eyes who was standing at the edge of the fights as if he were hesitating about what to do.

Lucius, we must stop him or he will destroy everything. Think of your son. He pleaded.

In response, the two small eyes, which were the only visible part of Lucius's face, filled with anger.

And what will remain of our world and our traditions if you do not emerge victorious once more? It is precisely because I am thinking of him that I have no other choice.

Then he began to send a series of spells towards Dumbledore, who parried them all even though without his wand, he was starting to struggle. While launching his visibly useless attacks, Lucius stated more calmly to Dumbledore:

You must be really desperate to try to convince me. What do you hope to offer me? If you achieve your egalitarian ends, Draco will no longer have any chance of obtaining a position worthy of his rank. And if you lose, may Merlin protect us from the consequences if the Dark Lord has the slightest doubt about my loyalty.

Yes, I am desperate. Do you not understand that the plans of the Dark Lord have just changed in nature? You feel it like I do, don't you? The Dark Lord is playing with forces that should not be awakened. Forces that no human is worthy of mastering.

I understand above all that his magical power now far exceeds yours. Are you so stubbornly clinging to power, not toUnderstand that your era is now over? Whatever his dark designs, from now on no one can obstruct them. Not even you and your cursed order.

Understanding that he could never change his mind and seeing that the magic deployed by Voldemort was beginning to take shape, Dumbledore resolved to cross the only moral barrier he had sworn never to break again.

Avada Kedavra! Accio Lucius's wand! Crucio! Avada Kedavra! Inferius!

By using black magic in this way, Dumbledore disposed of his closest adversaries and transformed their remains into inferi to clear a path to the center of the plain where magic now unfolded that chilled the blood of the old white wizard. However, despite his determination, he was blocked a few meters from the place where the dark wizards were chanting. The air was so charged with magic that it accumulated in tiny particles where the rare rays of sunlight that managed to penetrate the clouds of smoke and soot from the fires caused by the battles were reflected. Dumbledore would have found this phenomenon magnificent if the situation were not so dire and if it did not give the air a molasses-like consistency in which the old wizard could barely breathe and which prevented him from moving further. He then deployed all his power and used all his vast knowledge, the result of more than a century of study and exchanges with the brightest minds of his time. However, his attempts were all repelled and absorbed with elegant grace. Against the strange power that unfolded in the forest, his efforts seemed to have as much effect as sword strikes in the ocean. Nevertheless, they attracted the attention of the Voldemorts who, while continuing their chants, gave him a mocking smile.

Tom, you are playing with forces beyond your control. Stop immediately before you get hurt. Shouted Dumbledore, hoping that somehow his words would reach them. Fortunately, he didn't have to wait long before the Voldemorts decided to stop their incantation to taunt him. Even if it was only inside, this time it was his turn to smile. Tom had always been unable to bear being forbidden anything, especially for his own good.

Dumbledore did not know whether he should be relieved or worried that the bearers of such power had retained such weakness, but for now, he would not hesitate to use their pride to gain all the time he could.

You're just jealous that we had the courage to move forward where you always backed down. Whether in this world or in others, you have had many opportunities to use the relics to correct your numerous mistakes. But were they really mistakes? In front of your followers, you play the saint, but we both know that you pay little attention to the ants that stand in your way, spat the old Voldemort.

After his words, Dark-Harry's Voldemort raised his ring and, to Dumbledore's astonishment, some of the magical particles overloading the atmosphere took the ghostly form of Arianna Dumbledore. Or at least a smooth copy devoid of all emotions from the memory he had of his sister's face at the moment the green flash struck her chest as she tried to prevent the fight between Grindelwald and the Dumbledore brothers. Dark-Harry's Voldemort then spoke.

Before disappearing, my counterpart from the world of that Harry Dursley told me some very interesting things about your past. I knew your soul was dark, but I never imagined how much. To think that under certain circumstances you would have gone so far as to kill your own sister because she stood between you and the path to greatness. Tell me, is this also the case with this version of you? I'm sure it is. Never would that child, corrupted by all your hypocritical speeches, have been able to push the power of the relics to their last stronghold and find a way to influence a time before his birth.

The other Voldemort who had previously possessed Ryan added.

Do not have any regrets, Dumbledore. Even if you had the courage to use their power, you would never have been able to unlock their true potential. The wand submits, indeed, to the one who has defeated its previous owner, but this is not the case for the other two. The cloak only submits if it has been legitimately inherited from its previous owner, while for the stone, one must succeed in accepting the death of loved ones. The Peverell brothers or whoever created these relics ensured that only a wizard of their lineage as powerful as wise could seize this power. You could never have been wise enough, and without the brainwashing you inflicted on the Potters, James Potter would never have given me the cloak while I possessed Ryan Potter. Thanks to you, for the first time, I have been able to seize the complete power of the relics. Thanks to you, I will be able to open a portal to any universe and not just to the latest version of this one.

It doesn't change anything, Tom. Wherever you go, you will always find an army of the just ready to rise against tyranny. You will quickly understand that even in a universe where I wouldn't be present to stand in your way, your plans for domination are doomed to fail.

The Voldemort from the Dark-Harry universe resumed:

On the contrary, it changes everything. Once we have concentrated enough power, we can open a portal to the first version of this universe. To the first time your pathetic chosen one seized the relics and used them to create the first alternative timeline. To that moment when the first Potter defeated the first version of myself. Thus, we can prevent this sacrilegious act from happening and seize the relics before him. Thus, all his alternative versions will disappear, leaving only one universe that I will reshape according to my will. This time, no enemy from another universe will come to threaten my victory, and I will alter history until the birth of all opposition is annulled. Although I might make an exception for you. I will keep you alive and ensure you become my most loyal servant. You will be the centerpiece protecting my reign, the last ace I will keep up my sleeve for the most critical situations or the most complicated missions.

Confident of their success, the Voldemorts lost interest in their surroundings to focus on the final phase of the process. Thus, they did not notice the group of teenagers who, during Voldemort's speech, had emerged from what was left of the old Gaunt residence and had struggled to clear a path through the fighting in an attempt to approach the Voldemorts without success.

oOoOoOo

After Dark-Harry explained to them that with his help Ryan/Voldemort had escaped from the Potters and seized the cloak, they were deeply disheartened. Indeed, they were convinced that after pushing Dark-Harry into this cave, Ryan/Voldemort had joined the other Voldemort. Together, he now possessed two Deathly Hallows and Dumbledore was on his way to meet them with the third, unaware of what he would face. It was therefore no surprise that a few minutes after setting out to leave this forest, they felt as if the end of the world had begun. They rushed towards the places where the smoke and the insane surge of magic were coming from, and found that a battle was raging between the members of the Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters. But more importantly, they noticed the large empty circle where two Voldemorts were performing an unknown ritual, from which nothing good could come.

The teenagers approached as discreetly as possible until they found themselves in the midst of the fighting. Dark-Harry greatly regretted having let Ryan/Dumbledore take the cloak from him, when, without even consulting each other, they decided to try to sneak into the middle of the battle. The only thing that prevented him from violently revolting against this decision, besides the fact that it might attract attention to them, was his fear of what they would do to him if they took his reluctance as definitive proof that he was a traitor. At first, everything went well and they quickly made progress, picking up the wands of the fighters who lay unconscious on the ground until they all had their own wand.

Then, when he was only a few meters from the center of the plain where the two Voldemorts were chanting. A Death Eater with a deformed nose managed to hit his Order opponent with an Avada Kedavra, then glanced over the battlefield in search of a new opponent. That's when he decided to set his sights on Jenny Nott.

Well. It seems my master has brought me a gift. He declared as he calmly approached the group of teenagers. Immediately, the teenagers angrily launched a barrage of spells in his direction, but he disappeared well before they had a chance to reach him. A few seconds later, he reappeared behind Jenny and disarmed her by lifting her off the ground. Jenny screamed with all her might and the other teenagers were about to come to her aid when he pressed the blade of a black obsidian knife with a sinister appearance that seemed to absorb the light against her neck.

A single drop of her blood is enough for me to condemn her to a slow and painful death. Surrender immediately and perhaps I might convince the lord of darkness to spare some of you.

He will kill me anyway.

If you don't shut up now, unworthy vermin, you will learn that there are fates far worse than death. Your parents deserve only death for having sullied our noble lineage. You, on the other hand, if your friends lower their wands immediately, you would be a valuable addition to the possessions of my estate. If you show yourself sufficiently kind, I might even accept to integrate you into our illustrious family. He said with a lecherous look, slowly lowering his left hand towards her breasts.

Seeing Jenny's horrified expression, a nameless hatred seized Lucas and Lord Harry, but when Nott pretended to cut the skin of her neck, they had no choice but to throw their wands to the ground. But before Nott could rejoice, a gigantic black dog rushed at him and bit his hand until it bled, forcing him to drop his knife with a scream of pain.Pain. Then the dog transforming into a man with brown hair and a wild look.

Don't touch my best student, you old freaks.

Black! I still can't believe that Hogwarts has stooped low enough to entrust you with the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I will immediately correct this aberration. Threatened Nott while attacking Black.

Me neither, but times are changing. Retorted Black, struggling to counter Nott's attacks.

That's for sure. And traitors to their blood like you no longer have a place here. Harangued Nott, intensifying his attacks until Sirius buckled under their weight.

Sirius swears. Normally, he would have used his animagus form to easily dodge his shots until the irritation caused by fatigue and a few well-aimed provocations pushed him to make a mistake and offered an opening. However, that would mean leaving a line of fire open between him and the children, and there was no way he would take that risk. He would have cursed them for putting themselves in danger unnecessarily, but he knew all too well that his attitude, when he had been under the canvas, had left them no other choice. When Nott managed to pierce his last shield, he thought his time had come when a magical barrier of more than familiar magic came between him and the dark spell rushing towards him. Beside him stood a wizard with jet-black, messy hair who extended a hand to help him up. He quickly took it, serene about the events to come. Now that his adopted brother had joined him, nothing could stop them. Except it wasn't James, he realized quickly, when he cast a spell that was anything but white in Nott's direction.

Come on, move you filthy mutt. If you die here, Elizabeth will never forgive me.

When the veil that had enveloped his mind for 13 years broke, he promised himself that when he faced his godson, he would beg on his knees for forgiveness for his behavior. But when he mentioned his precious daughter, his blood boiled.

I wouldn't be in danger if you had kept your distance from her, as I asked you. Sirius replied, attacking Nott from the side, forcing him to retreat.

I suspect that whatever the sly serpent that I am tells you, you will never consider that your desert rose could have its own free will, but I fear that on this subject as on many others, it has never considered asking us for our opinion.

This line, spoken as he dodged a vicious spell sent by Nott, struck him like a blow to the heart and reminded him of his shortcomings as a godfather. He also saw that Harry's friends had taken the opportunity to escape and that he was left alone to help him face Nott, even though he had never shown him anything but hatred. Finally, the insinuations of his friends about their supposed relationship no longer seemed so abominable to him. Well, let's say they had entered the realm of the acceptable, if he didn't think about it too much.

Harry, go now. I'll take care of him. Shouted Sirius.

Have you completely lost your mind, old wreck?

Once back home, I will show you that the old relic still has some good qualities. In the meantime, go protect Elizabeth. I entrust her to you. And I'm sorry for everything that happened. For everything I said to you. Even if you are in Slytherin, you are a better wizard than I ever was. Admitted Sirius.

Stunned by this reply he had always dreamed of hearing when he was younger, Lord-Harry almost failed to counter the last spell Nott sent at him. Until a red-haired woman threw herself at him and forced him to duck.

Mom.

Oh my darling, I am so sorry. Everything will be alright now, I promise you. Said Lilly while hugging him.

I am dead and I am dreaming. Declared Lord-Harry, pushing her away violently and pointing his wand threateningly at her. Prove to me that you are indeed Lily Potter. He ordered.

But at that moment another Death Eater attacked them, forcing them to postpone the explanations.

I don't have time to explain, but from now on, things will change, I promise you. In the meantime, go back to take refuge at 12 Grimmauld Place. We're taking care of saving the others. Replied Lilly Potter.

No thank you. It's because of me that they are here. I won't leave until they are safe. Against Lord-Harry.

You are the spitting image of your father, replied Lily. How did I not notice before, she said with a tender look while condemning to death the Death Eater who had dared to attack her son. At that moment, Lord Harry understood why everyone compared his mother to a fierce lioness. But when she continued, anger filled him: but you must leave now. It's you he wants. Dumbledore lied to us. You are the true survivor.

So that's why you suddenly care about me! You're afraid that fame will slip through your fingers. Well, I have bad news for you: I don't give a damn about you and your damn prophecy. I will never be your chosen one. And your fake affection, Ryan can keep it. Shouted Lord Harry, his mind clouded by anger.

Taking advantage of Lily Potter being occupied by her fight, he fled to join his real family. The one he had built over the years.

He joined them quickly enough and discreetly took Elizabeth's hand. As always when he was confronted with his biological parents, he felt the need to know she was by his side. She was one of the few people who had always seen something else in him besides the jealous brother of the survivor. The only person along with Remus who, during his childhood, had always thought he had value. He said nothing to her about the reasons for his turmoil, and she asked nothing, simply being there as usual. Finally, he pulled himself together and thanked her with a brief kiss he hoped would not be a farewell kiss. Then he refocused on the battle and noticed they had passed the area where most of the fighting was concentrated. From now on, they advanced quickly enough until they were blocked by the same obstacle as Dumbledore. He could see him a few meters away, capturing the attention of the Voldemorts. They had to take advantage of it while they were distracted.

Let us do it. Said Jenny and Lucas. They held hands and cast the most powerful spells they knew to clear a path through the strange barrier that was preventing them from progressing.

However, their attempts yielded nothing. Lucas and Jenny then joined the others who had gathered in a circle to intercept the few stray spells that occasionally rushed in their direction and to be ready to repel any Death Eater who might try to aid their masters, leavingHarry Potter alone to try to solve these problems. After a few unsuccessful attempts, Lord Harry got angry:

I don't understand why Lucas and Jenny couldn't make a breakthrough. The magic of love is supposed to be more powerful than anything.

If I understood correctly what you told me, according to the library books, the closer they get, the more their magic will resonate and amplify. Maybe if they got closer... suggested Harry Dursley awkwardly, but Lord Harry.

They also say that if the early meeting of two soulmates is forced, it could kill them, retorted Lord Harry.

And so it is the fate of the world that is at stake. Against Dark-Harry.

Hey, you too. Exclaimed Harry Dursley immediately.

Me what? He replied with hostility.

You too are ready to sacrifice a life to save millions. Explained Harry Dursley.

It has nothing to do with it. Retorted Dark-harry.

Oh yes, in what way? Is it different just because it's you?

No, because it's you. But I suppose it's too much to ask for there to be a single person who loves you enough to put your interest before that of others. Dark-harry blurted out before he could think.

I,... uh... Stammered Harry Dursley.

No, it's me that's the problem. Dark-harry immediately said, lowering his eyes.

No, I would probably react the same in your place.

You really think it's the right time to solve your relationship problems. Lucas and Jenny are my friends and it's out of the question to sacrifice them, interrupted Lord Harry.

They are my friends too. Well, their doubles were my friends. But he is right. You have no idea what this monster will do to your world if we don't stop it. As cruel as it may be, it's our only chance and we must seize it.

It's out of the question. I thought Hufflepuffs were supposed to be loyal? Opposed Lord-Harry

And I the cunning Slytherins. What else do you suggest? replied Harry-Dursley.

What are you three plotting? Shouted Jenny, who, despite their efforts to be discreet, had heard them mention her name several times.

We were preparing your wedding with Lucas, replied Harry Dursley.

WE ARE NOT TOGETHER

And no one will say otherwise. Supported Lord Harry, casting a dark look at his two doubles.

Why do you feel entitled to decide for others, you two? stated Dark-Harry with an accusatory finger pointed at Lord Harry and Harry. Don't you think they deserve to be told the truth and to decide for themselves what they want to do?

Don't mess with me. You don't care about them. All you want is for him to sacrifice himself to save your ass, shouted Lord-Harry.

Such vulgarity in such a noble mouth, I am shocked.

If Harry starts swearing, it means we're really in trouble.

What are you hiding from us, Potter? Jenny asked, threatening her friend Lord Harry with her wand.

I... uh... uh

There is only one power more powerful than all those that Voldemort could deploy. Only one power that has a chance to counter the relics and reach the Voldemorts. The good news is that you and Lucas are capable of invoking it. The bad news is that it might kill you. Explained Harry Dursley.

Anyway, if we do nothing, we're going to die. Stated Lucas, who had come closer upon realizing that they were talking about him.

What chance of survival does the half-blood of the Nott and a Muggle-born have in Voldemort's world, approved Jenny. What should we do?

Kiss yourselves. Simply said Harry Dursley with embarrassment.

"PARDON!?" they exclaimed in unison. Then they glanced at each other briefly before looking away, blushing.

Do not ask questions and do what I tell you. The more you know, the more you risk dying.

And the more time you waste, the more we risk all dying. Come on, hurry up. It's just a kiss. Dark-Harry felt obliged to insist, who did not hide his fear upon seeing that the spell of the two Voldemorts was almost completed and that what looked like the portal they had crossed to come into this world had just formed in front of them. Not to mention that with his nine-year-old mental age, he had trouble understanding why there was such reluctance (especially given the stakes).

Lucas and Jenny hesitated for a few seconds, swaying nervously.

I'm warning you, whatever you have in mind better work or it's you who might end up dying.

Then they moved their lips toward each other. At first awkwardly and with what seemed to be strong reluctance, but as soon as their lips touched, there was an explosion. First, an explosion of pleasure that made them forget all modesty and melt into an almost fusion-like embrace. Their chaste kiss quickly turned into a battle to get more of that delicious sensation spreading throughout their bodies as they deepened what had started as a chaste kiss. Their clothes then began to bother them.

To the chagrin of the most prudish readers, they then began to strip, but good morals and the rating of this fanfic were saved, for at the same moment, their bodies were hidden by a gigantic discharge of magic that escaped from them and illuminated the forest. The fighters, all blinded, were forced to cease fire and observe the incredible confrontation between the magic emanating from the two adolescents and the much darker one emanating from the relics. However, the latter dissipated quickly. Whatever the nature of the magic escaping from the relics, it could do nothing against the concentration of pure love and desire to live emanating from the two adolescents.

It was then that the path to the two Voldemorts cleared clearly and everyone watched in horror as they crossed the portal. Refusing to give up. Refusing even to think about it, they all started running towards the portal, which was already beginning to close. They then jumped inside, but while the Potters passed through without a problem and disappeared with the portal in a final emanation of terrifying magic, the other teenagers, Dumbledore, and what was left of the Marauders crossed the portal as if it were a simple optical illusion.

Bonus: Second Prophecy

Author's note: As a bonus, here is a part of the story that I had written in advance and never ended up including. Indeed, in the fanfic that inspired me to create the universe of Lord Harry, there is a second prophecy that Dumbledore interpreted as: if Harry is not mistreated by his parents, then the world will be destroyed. Consequently, he ensured that James and Lily rejected Harry. But despite all of Dumbledore's manipulations and lies, they still loved their son and continued to care for him. So he was forced to put them under a mind control spell.

I had wanted to revisit this idea and thus incorporate a second prophecy of my own making, whose most logical interpretation seems to support Dumbledore, but which, with what we know of parallel universes, has a very different interpretation. But in the end, I found no place where it would have been logical to make this revelation, so I refrained from doing so. I will therefore simply add it in a non-canon bonus.

oOoOoOo

When hope has almost disappeared

Carried by the generation of the purest hearts

Salvation beyond the veil will occur.

Marked by Salazar, the Savior will be born.

Forced into betrayal, he will ask for forgiveness.

Shunned by his guardians, he sought greatness.

Rejected by his parents, he will find warmth in friendship.

Eliciting adulation, he will give a destination.

The greatest price, he will pay.

Otherwise, darkness will engulf the world.

Once Dumbledore had finished reciting the second prophecy, Harry got angry:

What do you mean a second prophecy? As if one wasn't enough.

Calm down, Harry.

No, but seriously, what is this nonsense: first prophecy, you must kill a dark mage, second prophecy: if you could also save the world in the process. What will it be next? Save the multiverse and stop by the bakery.

Since it's asked so nicely, I would appreciate a box of lemon candies from Honeydukes. In this universe, they were taken off the market 10 years ago and my supply is running low.

The worst part is that it wouldn't surprise me if you were serious.

I am always serious when it comes to lemon candy. Then, taking on a serious tone again, he added: I am aware that what I did is unforgivable and, moreover, I am not asking you to forgive me. Just know that even if it seems difficult to believe at the moment, there is a light at the end of the tunnel: a life where your loved ones will be happy and safe.

But not me.

I can't rule it out.

And even less guarantee it.

I know better than anyone the burden of being born with a duty that condemns you to renounce happiness. I won't pretend it will be pleasant or painless. Just that, from my experience, if you try to escape or fight it, it will be even worse. But I don't have the power, and even less the right, to interfere further in your life, so whatever you decide from now on, I will support you.

Do not think you will get away with fine words. When all this is over, I will come back to hold you accountable.

I hope so. I hope so, declared Dumbledore sadly. Harry understood that he didn't really believe he would ever come back.

Meeting with the original Potter

Dumbledore tried to prevent me from seizing the Elder Wand! He wanted Snape to become the true master of the wand! But I got there before you, little man... I obtained the wand before you could get your hands on it. I understood the truth before you caught up with me. I killed Snape three hours ago and the Elder Wand, the Wand of Death, the Wand of Destiny, truly belongs to me now! Dumbledore's last plan has failed, Harry Potter!

Indeed, acknowledged Harry. You are right. But before you try to kill me, I would advise you to think about what you have done... Reflect and try to feel a little remorse, Riddle...

What is this, again?

Nothing in everything Harry had told him, neither the revelations nor the taunts, had caused Voldemort such a shock. Harry saw his pupils contract until they were nothing more than slits and the skin whiten around his eyes.

This is your one and only chance, Harry continued. It's all you have left... Otherwise, I've seen what you'll become... Be a man... Try... Try to feel remorse...

You dare..., repeated Voldemort.

Yes, I dare, replied Harry, because it is true that Dumbledore's last plan failed, but I wasn't the one who suffered the consequences, it was you, Riddle...

Voldemort's hand holding the Elder Wand was trembling and Harry tightly gripped Draco's wand between his fingers. The decisive moment, he knew, was going to happen in a few seconds.

This wand continues to not fully work for you because you did not kill the right person. Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore.

He killed him...

So you're not listening to me? Snape never defeated Dumbledore! Dumbledore's death had been planned by both of them! Dumbledore wanted to die undefeated, he wanted to remain the last true master of the wand! If everything had gone as planned, the power of the Elder Wand would have died with him, because it would never have been conquered!

In that case, Potter, it's as if Dumbledore had given me the wand! Voldemort's voice quivered with cruel delight.

I stole the wand from the grave of its last master! I took it against the will of its last owner! Its power belongs to me!

You still don't understand, Riddle? Possessing the wand is not enough! Holding it in your hands, using it, does not truly give you mastery over it. Didn't you listen to Ollivander? It is the wand that chooses the wizard... Yet, the Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who had never laid a hand on it. This new master took the wand from Dumbledore against his will, without ever really understanding what he had done, without realizing that the most dangerous wand in the world had submitted to him...

Voldemort's breathing had quickened, his chest was rising rapidly and Harry guessed that the curse was near, he could feel it forming in the wand pointed at his face.

The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy.

For a moment, an expression of total astonishment passed over Voldemort's face but disappeared immediately.

What difference does it make? he said softly. Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference, neither for you nor for me. You no longer have the phoenix feather wand. Our duel will rely on skill alone... And when I have killed you, I will deal with Draco Malfoy...

But it's too late for you, replied Harry. You missed your chance. I got here first. I defeated Draco a few weeks ago. I took his wand. With a small sharp gesture, Harry showed the hawthorn wand and felt all eyes focus on it.

So it all comes down to this, doesn't it? Harry murmured. Does the wand you hold in your hand know that its last master was disarmed? If so... I am the true master of the Elder Wand.

A red and gold glow suddenly burst above them in the enchanted sky, just as a bright sun outlined its first contours at the nearest window. The light illuminated their faces at the same moment and Voldemort suddenly turned into a blazing spot. Harry heard the high-pitched voice let out a scream just as he himself shouted his hope to the skies, brandishing Draco's wand!

Avada Kedavra!

Expelliarmus!

The detonation sounded like a cannon shot and the golden flames that exploded between them, at the precise center of the circle they had drawn with their steps, marked the point where the two spells collided head-on. Harry saw Voldemort's jet of green light strike his own spell, he saw the Elder Wand fly very high, dark in the rising sun, spinning under the enchanted ceiling like Nagini's head, whirling through the air towards the master it did not want to kill, the one who had finally fully possessed it.

With his free hand, Harry, with the unfailing skill of the Seeker, caught the wand in mid-air, while Voldemort toppled backward, arms outstretched, the slit pupils of his scarlet eyes rolling back. Tom Riddle fell to the ground in a trivial end, his body weak, shriveled, his white hands empty, his snake-like face expressionless, unconscious. Voldemort was dead, killed by his own curse that had rebounded on him. Harry, holding both wands, looked at the remains of his enemy. For a moment of trembling silence, the shock of the moment seemed suspended.

So that's how it happened. Suddenly reasoned a cold, hissing voice like a snake in the silence of what was left of the great hall just as everyone was about to let their joy burst forth.

The faces filled with horror and surprise, everyone turned towards the entrance half-obstructed by the debris of the great hall where stood, with an almost nonchalant expression, two Voldemorts, one brandishing a copy of the Elder Wand while the other, with the features of young Riddle, held the stone and the wand. But before Harry could understand what was happening, hell broke loose before his eyes, and what was left of Hogwarts collapsed in a torrent of dust, filling the space with a dull noise that evoked the agony of an immense beast. Harry only had time to throw himself to the ground and hope to survive once more before a large cloud of smoke and debris fell upon him. When the dust settled enough for him to see around him, he wiped his glasses, thinking his nearsightedness was playing tricks on him. But the screams of terror from the survivors of the order, freeing themselves from the rubble of what had been the great hall, proved to him that all of this was indeed real. As the Deathly Hallows glowed with an intense light under the effect of the magic jointly invoked by the two Voldemorts: Bellatrix Lestrange, Fenrir Greyback, Theodore Nott, and all the other Death Eaters who had been defeated at the cost of countless sacrifices during the battle were coming back to life. The faces of the resurrected Death Eaters all displayed a mix of surprise and adoration for their master.

This should make this fight a little more interesting. My loyal Death Eaters, I offer you a second chance to prove your worth to me. Do not disappoint me this time.

A young Death Eater who must have been just 18 years old launched an attack on the exhausted resisters without coordinating with his colleagues (probably in an attempt to get noticed by Voldemort). Despite their fatigue and the blow to their morale they had just suffered, the defenders immediately regrouped into combat formation and hit him with a volley of spells that sent him back to the cemetery he should never have left.

With a cruel smile, Voldemort then raised his finger adorned with the Elder Ring, and the relics began to glow with a supernatural green light, and a few seconds later, the Death Eater rose again.

Idiot. You're lucky that good blood is so rare. But I warn you, at the next mistake, you will suffer my eternal wrath. Well, where were we. Ah yes. We had to pull out some weeds.

The rest was confused in Harry's memory. Harry vaguely remembered that after this outburst, some of the defenders lost all hope and tried to flee, abandoning the fight and any formation. The rest was just a jumble of disordered images that sometimes appeared in his nightmares. Molly Weasley screaming in pain until she had a heart attack under the spells of a Bellatrix who had decided to take her revenge, while she stayed behind to try to protect the escape of the younger ones. Hermione forcing him to run. The blood, all that blood. So much that the lake at Hogwarts turned red.

Then Ron slapped him. Harry forced himself to focus his attention on the tear-streaked face of his best friend who was shouting unintelligible phrases at him. He regained his senses and realized that they were alone in the middle of the Forbidden Forest. He wondered for a few seconds how many people hadAgain sacrificed so he could escape, but if he really wanted to honor them, he first had to find a solution.

It was then that he became aware of the Elder Wand that was still in his hands since what he had thought was his ultimate victory, and of the Invisibility Cloak that Ron was holding. Somewhere during their escape, his friends must have picked it up and used it to facilitate their retreat. Moreover, it was undoubtedly thanks to it and the incredible protection it offered that he had been able to escape so easily while they were priority targets.

We must find the stone. Our only chance is to have our own relics, declared Harry in a voice he hoped was more confident than he actually felt.

It's just a legend. Hermione retorted in a breathless voice, as she tried to catch her breath after the frantic run she had to make to escape the Death Eaters.

How can you still be skeptical after what we just saw?

Precisely, I don't know what I saw. Hermione replied on the verge of hysteria.

Ron then approached Hermione and hugged her. After a few seconds, she pulled herself together.

First, we need to find a safe place and rest. Declared Hermione

No! We cannot give up. Run away if you want, I'm staying.

Harry! Don't you think we've fought enough? That there haven't already been enough deaths? Ron added in a weak voice.

What do you want us to do without a plan and all alone? If we want to have a chance to defeat him one day, we have to flee. Hermione supported.

The adrenaline was still pulsing through Harry's veins, preventing him from thinking clearly. He had no logical argument to oppose to his friends, and he dreamed of only one thing: lying down in a bed and not waking up for several days. However, he was convinced that if they left now, they would never return.

Abandoning the idea of convincing his friends and deaf to the protests, he plunged into the forbidden forest hoping to find the third and final relic. He was convinced that if he found it, everything would be fine. If Voldemort could resurrect his Death Eaters, then he could... Better not to think about it. The tale of the three brothers clearly warned against such hope.

He stepped over twisted roots and moved forward, attentive to the slightest sounds, ready to fiercely defend his life while trying to recognize the path. It seemed to him that he had left the stone about ten meters south of Aragog's old lair. But how to find a stone among hundreds of others in a dense forest? Why had he abandoned the stone? If only he had made a landmark to retrieve it if needed. But at that moment, he was convinced he was heading towards his death. And now he was walking that same path again, expecting at any moment to see a green flash or the serpentine face of his Nemesis. However, having experienced it, he knew there were worse things than death, and despite his friends' protests, he decided to continue. If he had to die, it would be after having tried everything to save his friends and undo the horrible scenes he had just lived through. Yes, there was something much harder than accepting his death: witnessing the death of his loved ones.

As his thoughts came to mind, he felt like a calling. Immediately, he thought of a trap by Voldemort and strengthened his shields.occlumentiques, but the link between them had been destroyed by the death of the horcrux that had taken refuge in him. And in any case, the call had nothing to do with what Voldemort would have been capable of producing. When Voldemort's mind and his overlapped or his emotions reached him, he felt all the violence of their owner painfully. Here, it was something softer and more neutral. Like being drawn by a magnet, he moved towards the direction from which it came and after about ten minutes of walking, he noticed it immediately: the resurrection stone lay at the foot of the roots of a centuries-old tree. But he did not have time to seize the stone as a magical portal opened. He stopped and drew his wand.

Behind him, he felt with a certain warmth, his friends doing the same. He realized that in the last moments, he had not been a very good friend, rushing as usual towards danger without considering anyone. Despite everything, they still stayed to support him.

The portal suddenly lit up and he had to squint to avoid being blinded. He distinguished 3 figures slightly smaller than him coming out. Harry didn't waste time trying to identify them:

Stupefy! he yelled at the same time as his friends.

Protego! Replied the strangers in a voice that seemed curiously familiar to Harry. That didn't stop him from immediately throwing himself to the ground to dodge a counterattack that never came. But he was surprised to see that his friends hadn't followed him. Instead, they were staring motionless and open-mouthed at the three strangers.

And although she welcomes. You are lucky to have a particularly pleasant face. Okay, let's start over. Hello, Harry, I'm Harry and he's Harry and there, you won't believe it, but he's Bob. No, I'm kidding, his name is Harry.

As exasperating as my colleague may be, I would also appreciate it if you could show less hostility.

How is that infuriating? I am kindness incarnate. And you weren't much more welcoming when we arrived at your place. Replied Harry Dursley

Do you really think it's the time to throw jabs at each other? In case you forgot, we're not here as tourists. And without the Deathly Hallows, our time is limited. Especially yours. Unlike me, you haven't been able to use the cloak for a long time. Almost scolded Dark-Harry.

But he's growing up and becoming a real little teenager. Harry Dursley replied, condescendingly running his hand through Dark-Harry's hair before continuing towards Ron and Hermione, who were slowly recovering from their shock and beginning to lower their wands.

And who are you?

In front of their stunned silence, Lord Harry explained:

She is Hermione Weasley and if she is half as intelligent as mine, we can consider ourselves lucky that fate has placed her in our path. He, on the other hand, is Ron Weasley. Even if he were twice as intelligent as mine, his presence will be of no help to us.

Hey! exclaimed Ron.

You see, it's exactly because of this that we are so poorly received when we arrive somewhere. Excuse me for not recognizing you, Ron, but the last time I saw you, you were only 9 years old. Glad that here, you didn't get crushed by a troll. We've lost two short-haired psychopathic dark wizards, you wouldn't have seen them by any chance? Distinctive feature: a strong propensity to want to conquer the world.

What is wrong with you! Do you have the slightest idea how many deaths your you-know-whos have caused? And you're there joking as if nothing happened. Shouted classic-Harry after getting up.

Hey calm down. It's not our fault if Volde

NOOOOON. Immediately shouted Classic-harry, Hermione, and Ron.

Dead... What? It's just a name.

But it was already too late and the taboo was triggered, and immediately several pops of apparition occurred behind them and a gaunt voice chilling their blood resonated.

A name that I would teach you not to utter with impunity, you little impudent.

Around them, a tide of Death Eaters advanced from all directions and surrounded them while slowly, the two Voldemorts descended from the air, proudly displaying their own copies of the Deathly Hallows.

Several anti-disapparition spells have been placed all around the area. This time, you will not escape. Lord-Potter's Voldemort threatened them.

Today, by the sheer force of his will, Voldemort rewrites his destiny. A destiny where you will have no place. Completed the Voldemort of Dark-Harry.

Why would we escape? If what you explained to us is true, you can't kill us. Harry Dursley bluffed on a sudden inspiration.

Really! Exclaimed at the same time (but surely different from yours), the two Voldemorts.

Classic-Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Lord Harry spontaneously formed a back-to-back formation and prepared to defend their lives dearly. Lord-Harry's Voldemort continued:

Here is an amusing assertion. Unless you want us to put your theory to the test, I advise you to explain yourself quickly.

Let's see, it's obvious though. If it's really the original Harry, then he's the one who brought about the birth of our respective worlds. If you kill him, you cancel your own birth.

I fear that you greatly underestimate the powers of Lord Voldemort. The power of the cloak will protect us from this kind of inconvenience, replied Lord-Harry's Voldemort.

To you how determined I am to stop you. Replied Harry Dursley. Pestis Incendium!

The Voldemorts immediately cast a shield or another spell capable of repelling the demonic flames, but they never came. Instead, they headed towards classic-Harry who felt for the umpteenth time that day that his last hour had arrived.

A gesture from me and there will be nothing left to resurrect. I know you, Tom. I've had a version of you in my head for several months. If you haven't already killed us, it's because you need us. Or one of us. Tell your slaves to go check the North Pole to see if I'm there. Unless you don't feel capable of facing us alone. Declared Harry Durlsey, trying not to turn his gaze towards his allies, whom he had somehow betrayed again.

You dare to threaten me. Know that Lord Voldemort never negotiates. Death Eater, teach respect to this miserable runt. Ordered the Voldemort of Lord Harry.

Idiot! Would you have forgotten that the relics of this world are still subject to him. Death Eater, step back, or you will suffer the consequences. Opposed the Voldemort of Dark-Harry.

But come on, he's bluffing. Dumbledore's lapdogs would never dare to get their hands dirty.

Not that one, he already did it.

Well, we will make do with those we already have. Death Eater, attack immediately. We have already lost far too much time. Replied the Voldemort of Lord-Harry

STOP! Ordered Dark Harry's Voldemort by launching a nonverbal Stunning Spell at a Death Eater a little too eager to fight with the teenagers. If we continue to share the cloak in the long term, we will crumble. We absolutely must convince him to give us his.

You're probably right. Avada Kedavra! Shouted Lord-Harry's Voldemort as he attacked Dark-Harry's Voldemort.

Serpensortia maxima! Idiots, we must stay united. Voldemort from Dark-Harry defended himself by summoning a gigantic serpent that intercepted the deadly spell.

Until you have the means to betray me. I have not missed that it is me whom the cloak and the wand recognize as the sole owner. You only possess that useless stone.

But the other relics are mine. Without them, you will live in perpetual fear of the arrival of a more powerful rival who will not have had the stupidity to renounce the power of the three, replied the Voldemort of Dark-Harry.

When I have killed you, I will have eternity to solve this problem.

I had never realized how much the horcruxes had perverted our judgment. Your pride will be your downfall. It only takes a few minutes of examination to understand that such magic is beyond the reach of any human. You will never be able to recreate it.

Who said that these were the only Deathly Hallows? This veil, kept in the Department of Mysteries, is probably another door to other worlds. I would know how to use it and I would retrieve the Hallows, retorted Lord-Harry's Voldemort.

You are not even an eighth of what I should have been. But I know how to fix that.

The Voldemort of Dark Harry raised his resurrection stone into the air, which immediately lit up with an intense green light. Instantly, an inhuman cry of pain escaped from the lips of Lord Harry's Voldemort and a cruel smile appeared on the fine face of Dark-Harry's Voldemort, who began to taunt his double:

It hurts, doesn't it! The forced reunification of one's soul. All the pains. It seems that the reunification process forces us to relive all the pain we have caused during our life until we feel genuine regret for it. Honestly, I don't know how I managed to survive it. Oh yes, I remember now: I was already dead at that moment.

Lord Harry's Voldemort then crashed to the ground, visibly too weakened to maintain his altitude, and crashed with a sharp sound that resonated in the silence that had engulfed the forest. It was as if every animal, every tree, every blade of grass had grasped the importance of the events and had stopped breathing while awaiting their outcome.

The Voldemort of Dark-Harry, with a satisfied look, landed lightly next to the bloody body of his double who continued to scream in pain. In a final effort, the Voldemort of Lord-Harry clung to his cloak and murmured:

pssss ppssss

How come you say, I can't hear anything?

Mercy. Pleaded Lord-Harry's Voldemort to everyone's great surprise.

You're lucky, this experience taught me that there are things worse than death. Give me full possession of the cloak and maybe I'll show magnanimity, replied Dark-Harry's Voldemort.

With slow movements that visibly required all his willpower, Lord Harry's Voldemort handed the cloak to his counterpart, who in response gave him a disdainful look before almost as slowly taking the cloak and saying:

Experliarmus! Avada kedavra.

Under the desperate gaze of the teenagers, the Elder Wand that Lord Harry's Voldemort had managed to snatch from the hands of his Dumbledore flew in what seemed like a long slow motion towards the surviving Voldemort. He was now the sole owner of the 3 Deathly Hallows of Lord Harry's world.

Good. Where were we? Ah yes, my sweet revenge and the extermination of the last people still opposing my omnipotence. Then he turned to Harry Dursley: It seems to me that once again you want to give your doubles a taste of the flames of hell. That's an excellent idea.

Voldemort raised his Elder Wand and Harry Dursley's Fiendfyre swelled and gained power until it incinerated everything nearby. Before Dark-Harry even realized what had happened, all his companions had burned in the demonic flames of his own spell. But he didn't have time to regret it before he was struck down in turn by a green-colored spell.

In front of the astonished looks of his Death Eaters, who did not yet know whether to shout for joy or horror, Voldemort advanced to the place where his opponents had stood and leaned over the body of Harry Dursley, searching it until he extracted what he was looking for.

Clever little one. I knew you would take advantage of our argument to discreetly retrieve the stone. You probably thought of reuniting them beyond death to get another chance to stop us. Or maybe you ended up taking all this lightly, convinced that no matter the winner, we would both end up dying and then resurrecting to relentlessly lead the same duel of good against evil, devoid of stakes, due to the lack of definitive consequence of one's victory over the other. But this time, the stone of this world is mine. As long as I am alive, you will have to face the ultimate enemy without all the relics. Good luck Harry Potter and consider yourself lucky to have passed the veil before I condemn to nothingness all the other versions of ourselves that your double from this world inadvertently created. From now on, there will be only one universe and from the other side of the veil, you will be able to watch me reign over it as master for eternity. Muhahahahaha! Muhahahahaha!

oOoOoOo

Ah gross! Why are you naked? Dark-Harry's voice exclaimed in outrage.

Oh no. Harry Dursley stammered as he opened his eyes, before covering his private parts with his hands. What happened?

You killed us. Again! I'm getting used to it, but I advise you to prepare your defense for when you see the other two. Replied Dark-Harry

He noticed that Dark-harry had taken on the appearance of a 9-year-old child and was wearing an extremely simple black wizard's robe, which made him resemble the young Tom Riddle he had seen in Voldemort's pensieve.

Where are they? We need to gather and find a way to stop Voldemort. There must be a solution together, we will find it. Asked Harry Dursley after conjuring enough clothing to stop blushing like a lobster.

Throwing up their guts. I told them not to drink anything, but they didn't want to listen to me. Why do adults drink alcohol? It only brings problems.

I don't know. I think we both died before we could find out. And it's because of me.

Dark-Harry shrugged.

You did your best. And I'm not sure I missed much. At least, we'll be together.

It's not over. We must be able to go back. We've always been able to until now.

Dark-Harry withdrew into silence and lowered his eyes. Harry Dursley, who was beginning to know him well, insisted:

Go ahead and say what's on your mind. Whatever it is, I promise not to get angry or judge you. As you said, we're in this mess together, so we might as well be honest.

I'm not sure I want to go back there. He said in a small, almost ashamed voice.

Harry Dursley knelt down and forced him to raise his head and look him in the eyes.

There is no awkwardness, buddy. I would be scared in your place too. In fact, I have been in your place. One day, wizards showed up at my house and dragged me into a strange world where half the people seemed to want me dead and the other half expected me to save the world for them. And that day, I was much less brave than you. I tried to run away from the responsibilities they wanted to impose on me. And that led to the death of my cousin Dudley. I know it must be hard for you to believe, but he and I were like brothers. So, no, I don't blame you for being scared and wanting to run away. If I could, I would do the same as you. It's just that I learned the hard way that it's not a solution. Sooner or later, we are doomed to be caught up by our problems and have to face them.

You talk like the old fool.

I will take that as a compliment. But if I start eating lemon candies, please knock me out.

A smile touched the lips of dark-Harry, who gently extended his hand. Harry Dursley took it and let himself be guided by the younger one.

Does that mean you forgive me for killing you? Twice?

No? It means that I decided to wait until I have something specific to ask you to reproach you for it.

Slytherin.

I will take that as a compliment.

They walked (or rather slid) in silence and after a minute came upon two teenagers aged 14 and 17 who were moaning.

Ah !!! Damn. If this is our last drink, why is it so disgusting?

Youth has no manners anymore. It's a vintage that is 2 billion, 357 million, and 18 years old. In fact, it is the remains of the first plant to have had a glucose level high enough to ferment. You can't imagine all the efforts I had to make to get my hands on such a rare vintage. Protested the skeleton, who was now familiar to Harry-Dursley behind his age-worn bar.

Harry Dursley was about to make his presence known when his gaze was drawn by the screams of several filthy babies coming from the opposite corner of the bar.

What is that? he exclaimed reflexively, pointing at the hideous thing with his finger.

Don't touch, especially not. Dark-Harry alarmed as he interposed himself between him and the odious cradles.

That's what's left of Voldemort. We can't do anything for them. Explained Classic-Harry, finally noticing his presence.

Only a deranged mind could conceive the idea of offering any assistance to the refuse of its Nemesis. Though that is exactly what you are. Tell me that before perishing, your insane plan at least allowed you to seize the original stone. Asked Lord-Harry.

Yes. Harry replied with embarrassment and hesitation, as he expected a more vehement reception from his doubles.

Hope is therefore still allowed. We have the cloak and the wand. We only need your stone. Explained Lord Harry, pointing to the relics held by classic-Harry. Seeing Harry Durlsey's perplexity, he continued: while waiting for your arrival, we agreed that the original relics should be able to defeat their copies. Or at least that it's a hypothesis worth testing.

Alas, I think she didn't follow me. Voldemort used the Avada on me. After my death, he must have seized the original stone.

Immediately the faces of the other two Harrys darkened.

You don't blame me?

Mortally. Lord Harry said with a sardonic air.

What is done is done. I would have preferred that you consult me, but it was a good plan. And besides, it almost worked. When they started to kill each other, I thought we were saved, explained Classic-Harry.

See, you know. That's a true friend. Take a leaf out of his book. Said Harry Dursley to Dark-Harry, who merely rolled his eyes.

He is above all a true Gryffindor. Do not expect the same magnanimity from me. Lord Harry intervened, holding back from vomiting.

You can scold me as much as you want when we're out of here. Retorted Harry Dursley.

Don't tell me you already want to leave. You haven't even tasted the dish of the day. It's a magnificent stew that I've been simmering since I opened the restaurant. It's funny, but after a week, black crusts formed on top. Death protested softly.

The Harrys shivered and by mutual agreement acted as if they hadn't heard anything.

Without wanting to offend you. I believe that no one has managed to make the journey in reverse. In any case, not without the relics. Against Lord-Potter.

Well, we'll be the first, asserted Harry-Dursley.

I already did it. Then remarked classic-Harry.

Pardon!? Exclaimed simultaneously Lord-Potter and Harry-Dursley.

Just before you arrived, I went to meet You-Know-Who and he killed me. I then found myself in limbo where I met Dumbledore who gave me a choice: I could either continue to the afterlife or return to the world of the living. At the time, I instinctively knew where the exit was. It must be the same here. There must be an exit. We just have to find it we've wasted enough time, we need to get to it. By spreading out all four of us, I'm sure we'll make it. Explained classic-Harry.

But you are blind. There is nothing here. Whatever direction we head in, there is only emptiness. We are far beyond the limbo. We are on the other side of the veil, Lord-Potter snapped.

What do you know about it? Asked classic-Harry.

I know it, that's all.

I believe he is right. The Voldemorts mentioned it several times. And I don't think they were lying at that moment, intervened Harry-Dursley.

Then they withdrew in heavy silence. Despite all his resolutions, Harry Dursley saw no way out of their situation and gradually began to resign himself to accepting it and wondering what would happen next, until classic-Harry asked death:

Wait, you said it came from the earth. Does that mean you are not confined here? Can you go out?

Of course. Work is important, but it's not the only thing in life. Replied Death while wiping a glass.

So the legend is true. You have come into our world and... Are you the creator of the relics? Continued classic-Harry with a budding hope.

What relics are you talking about? Asked Death.

But the Deathly Hallows, come on.

Oh no, there is a mistake. I have never met death. Besides, it's not for lack of trying. Eternity, you know, is long.

Especially towards the end, yes, we know. Interrupted Harry Dursley, remembering the shows about old music celebrities that Petunia was fond of.

Exactly not. It's the beginning that's complicated. Do you have any idea what it's like to wander alone and aimlessly for billions of years? But since you humans appeared, I finally have company. At least during the few minutes a soul spends here. That's why I'm trying so hard to develop my business. Given your tab, I probably shouldn't tell you, but in truth, money doesn't interest me much. If I complain about bad payers, it's just for show.

I don't know why I suspected it a little. Commented Harry Dursley. Dark-Harry for his part asked:

If you are not death, then what are you?

This is an excellent question that I have been asking myself for several eternities. I believe the human concept that comes closest to it is entropy.

We don't care about that. The important thing is that you can intervene. You could provide us with another copy of the relics,... I mean the stone, the wand, and the cloak. Or destroy Voldemort's. Exclaimed classic-Potter.

The infinite space surrounding them then echoed with a hearty and warm laugh that nevertheless chilled their blood. It was a visceral fear. LikeYes, this seemingly harmless sound had awakened in them a primal fear inscribed deep within their genes.

Ah ah ah! Interesting. What would you be willing to give up in exchange? Asked entropy.

I don't know. Whatever you want. Declared classic-Harry uneasily.

"What form did your emoluments take the first time?" asked Lord-Potter.

My emoluments. And who would have paid them? No, I did it for free. I just wanted to make things more interesting. You see, at the time, there was only one timeline and your species barely exceeded a million individuals. I had a lot of free time and thought I had seen everything about your species. War, peace, love, and betrayal followed one another like an eternal variation of the same boring story. Those three wizards changed that. They managed to bring a breath of novelty to your story. To reward them so that their work never ceases to entertain me, I offered them the 3 relics. Oh, excuse me. From spending time with your deceased elders, I fear I have acquired the habit of rambling on with old stories that don't interest the young.

If what you want is distraction, then you must help us. If we don't go back, Voldemort will establish a reign of terror for eternity. Nothing will happen anymore.

You're joking. He is the best twist that has occurred in your dull existence since the marriage of convenience between Grindelwald and Hitler. Every second of your new, peaceful, uneventful life is upended by his arrival. Routine existences are elevated into an ethical struggle for survival, sprinkled with drama, painful choices, but also small daily victories that enchant life.

You are vile. Exclaimed classic-Harry, whose mind was still resonating with the screams of his loved ones dying under the blows of the Death Eaters.

In what way? Entropy wondered sincerely.

You delight in the misfortune of humans. Replied Harry Dursley.

And so, what harm is there in that? It's not me committing them. And then I find you quite hypocritical. I don't recall the stories you tell for entertainment depicting events of perfect and happy utopias. You enjoy distracting yourself with the misfortunes of others just as much as I do. It's just that you think you're doing it with beings that don't exist.

But you could stop them. Stated Harry Dursley.

Really? I fear you have mistaken me for another deity. I only know how to add death to the chaos of the universe. Peace and harmony are mysteries beyond my understanding.

You could at least stop Voldemort.

I am not the only one in this situation. There are 6 billion individuals on the other side of the veil who could easily overcome it if they united. Despite all his power, Voldemort is just a lonely and sad man. Why should it be up to me to decide the outcome of this conflict? What reason do I have to believe that one more death, even that of a tyrant, will improve the fate of the survivors?

You're joking, what could be worse than Voldemort?

Dear child, if you had seen as much as I have, you would not ask the question. Humans do not need a lord of darkness to inflict the worst torments on themselves. It might even be that their thirst for eternity will force you to make the necessary sacrifices to ensure the survival of your species. I have seen the future ofMany timelines where he was defeated. In very few of them did humanity survive more than a century or two due to its own greed. No, believe me from my experience, humans are the ones who know best how to choose the existence that suits them best. Your species has decided to turn its back on a life of security and freedom, to live in fear and tyranny. The best I can do is respect this choice.

This is complete nonsense. Humanity hasn't chosen anything at all. It's you who gave it the power, and now one person is using it to impose their path on humanity. If you really want to be neutral, you must at least take it away from them. Argued Harry Dursley.

You did not hold the same discourse when they were in your hands. If I were to follow your logic to the end, I should have taken back my blessings long before the start of this conflict. However, I fear that without them, the camp of light would have collapsed long ago. During the first phase of this conflict, the human you call Dumbledore could only keep the one who calls himself the Dark Lord at bay from supreme power through intensive use of the wand. And you, in the original timeline, would never have been able to defeat him if that same Dumbledore had not schemed for the wand to turn against him during the final battle. Even if I listened to you, your world would eventually be reduced to a single timeline dominated for eternity by this malevolent being. Or maybe not. For humans, eternity is often much shorter than they imagine. One day, your kind might get sufficiently fed up living under his rule to unite and sacrifice their lives for the advent of a world that would not be under his reign. In any case, it will be a fascinating story to follow.

All that is bullshit. It's not entertainment you want. It's company. Said classic-Harry

What!? Exclaimed the other Harrys.

I ask your forgiveness, young human. Asked entropy.

I know what it feels like to be alone forever and suddenly find oneself surrounded. If you can't help but come back to us, it's not because our world amazes you. You asked what we would be willing to pay in exchange for your help. The answer is simple, we only have one thing of value: our soul. Save my friends and send my doubles back to their world and I will stay to keep you company for eternity if necessary.

After a long, anxious moment, entropy released in a breath a simple:

Okay.

No, it's not for you to do that. Lord-Harry declared calmly.

And why not? If I understand correctly, all of this is my fault. It is I who created the existence of all these universes and therefore these Voldemorts.

I do not consider my existence to be a sin that deserves punishment. If you stay here, you will never be able to bring about the creation of our worlds, explained Lord-Harry with embarrassment.

No! exclaimed Dark-Harry, realizing the implications of what he had just brought up.

It's up to me to stay, declared Harry Dursley. I'm the only one whose disappearance won't deprive any timeline of its creator. The only one who isn't expected by anyone. You all have friends or family eagerly awaiting your return. A life disrupted by my arrival that you have left on hold.

I stay here, with you. The only timeline I created is yours. It's okay if I stay here.

Even if one could disregard the billions of people inhabiting my world, you still have a life to live.

I don't care. What's so great about life? pleaded Dark-Harry, starting to cry.

Harry Dursley knelt down and looked him in the eyes.

Plenty of things, you'll see. You've only experienced the bad sides. You still have all the good ones to discover. And it's only for a time. We'll see each other again. But not too soon. If I see you again before 80 years, I warn you that I'll give you the cold shoulder for the next 80,000.

Then, finding nothing else to say to each other, they shared a long embrace, which he reluctantly repeated when portals opened to what Harry recognized as the different worlds he had traversed.

Its portals will take you back to your timeline just before my gifts disrupt the course. Moreover, by passing through them, you will forget everything that just happened. At worst, it will be nothing more than the memory of a distant dream.

I don't want to forget. Protest Dark-Harry

And I don't want him to go back to the Dursleys. I promised he would never go back to them, added Harry Dursley.

Are you aware that this could lead to the cancellation of the creation of your timeline? Asked entropy.

If I understood correctly, my world is his after he intervened to make the Dursleys love me. If you open the necessary portal for me, I will go myself to appease Petunia's hatred.

After a moment, the entropy released:

Okay. But this is the last favor you extract from me.

Entropy snapped its fingers and Dark-Harry's portal, instead of leading to the cupboard under the stairs, moved to a plain in the Forbidden Forest bathed in moonlight, where the traces of the battle they had fought there were still visible.

After this final exchange, they silently bid farewell to their doubles, then he watched them enviously cross the portals corresponding to them.

You know, you haven't sacrificed yourself for eternity. As soon as another intelligent species emerges, I will release you. Declared entropy.

Do you mean we're the only ones in the universe? Asked Harry Dursley, vaguely curious.

Let's say instead that you are the first. But let's get back to serious matters now that you are here, I will be able to build a hotel. Exclaimed entropy joyfully while rubbing its hands.

It was going to be damn long thought Harry Dursley, then through the closing portals, he saw the different versions of himself being welcomed by their loved ones who hugged them. Even Dark-Harry had to endure the hug of a Molly Weasley who had decided to adopt him for good. He consoled himself by thinking that it was worth it and that eternity would pass quickly with two.

oOoOoOoOo

Author's note: And there you go, it's the end. I hope that despite my lack of motivation at the end and the skim over the arc with classic-Harry, you enjoyed this ending (at this point, we can even say we skipped it).

As for me, even though I struggled to finish this fanfic, I am happy to have been able to offer a happy ending to Harry Dursley and his doubles. They deserve it after everything I put them through.

You have probably guessed it, but during the coming months, I will take a break from writing and focus on other projects. First, I would like to polish a program I made during my studies to learn JAVA and make it available on my website: www %%%. %%%serpenfou %%%.%%%.fr. It's a program to manage one's budget and assets that I have been using for years, but it is so messy that it is unpresentable as it stands.

I've been wanting for a long time to find the time to make it a little cleaner and publish it with instructions.

And also to publish its code and a description allowing it to be easily modified to adapt it to other uses.

You will tell me that there are already tons of applications to manage one's budget and assets, and you are probably wondering why I bothered to create my own program. Well, it's because to my knowledge, none of these apps are both: open source, free, respectful of your personal data, working on Linux, and easy to use.

Indeed, the only free, open-source management applications running on Linux that I have found are designed for near-professional (or even professional) accounting and are therefore far too complicated for an individual who just wants to see their various expense categories, aggregate the money they have in different banks into a single figure, and compare the performance of their stock portfolio to that of a world ETF once every 3 months.

I therefore wanted to create an application in Java that meets these criteria (I chose Java so that the program can run on any machine and because professionally, I thought it would be useful for me to learn this language).

I partially succeeded. Indeed, I find that my app perfectly meets my needs however, it is a bit less convenient to use than professional apps, because as a stingy individual, I cannot access the banks' APIs that allow professional apps to automatically retrieve your transactions. There would of course have been workarounds, but I considered them to pose too great a security risk for the user's banking data.

As a result, my app does not automatically retrieve transactions. You need to download them from your bank's website in a CSV file and provide it to the program (which will read it automatically). And it only works for transaction files provided by Fortuneo. If your bank uses a different format, then to use my program, you will either have to manually enter the transactions or modify the program (it's not complicated, but it needs to be done).

Once that's done, I think I'll translate some English fanfic that inspired the worlds of dark-Harry and Lord-Potter. This will improve my English (which really needs it) and give the illusion that I wrote a fanfic explaining what their story would have been without the intervention of Harry Dursley.

And then, who knows. Knowing myself, I'll probably get bored and want to write a sequel to my Animorph fanfic or start a project that has nothing to do with it. We'll see.