Search:

SIYE Time:9:24 on 28th March 2024
SIYE Login: no


The World As We Knew It
By ginnyp0tter

- Text Size +

Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:Harry/Ginny, James Potter, Lily Potter, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, Sirius Black
Genres: Action/Adventure
Warnings: Death
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 309
Summary: Destroy the Horcruxes—that’s Harry’s goal, until an Aperio throws him and two other unknown people into a world where the prophecy never existed, his parents and Sirius are alive, and Ginny went to Azkaban for opening the Chamber. Canon pairings, pre DH.
Hitcount: Story Total: 150038; Chapter Total: 4924





Author's Notes:
Here it is!
If you like, nominate!




ChapterPrinter
StoryPrinter


“Potter, a word with you in private, if I might.”

Harry followed Moody across the classroom. Moody paused at the door and looked back at the class, most of whom were watching them interestedly. “Back to your practice! Weasley, you can work with Brown and Finnigan.”

Mad-Eye’s office was very similar to the office of Barty Crouch, Jr.’s when he had pretended to be Moody for a whole year under Polyjuice Potion. Harry felt uneasy, remembering painful memories of the aftermath of the Third Task. He hesitated in the doorway, feeling Moody’s magical eye on him even though the Auror’s back was turned.

“Have a seat,” Moody growled. “I won’t bite.”

Harry managed a forced laugh, but his stomach was still in knots as he perched himself on a stool.

“Those were impressive spells you demonstrated out there,” Mad-Eye began, clunking around the room, his back turned. Harry knew he was still being watched with the magical eye. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but said nothing.

Moody turned suddenly, both eyes boring into Harry, his wand in his hand. “You’re not the boy I taught last year. Who are you?”

Harry gulped. “H-Harry P-Potter,” he insisted.

Moody took two steps closer. “The Harry Potter I taught last year wasn’t even remotely capable of the extraordinarily performed Defence spells I saw out there. Potter couldn’t possibly become an Animagus in two months, or successfully rescue a prisoner from Azkaban. You’re not Potter. Who are you?”

Harry clutched the edges of the stool. “I…”

Moody shook a little bottle in his face. “Do you know what this is?” he growled.

Harry focused on the bottle. “V-Veritiserum, sir?”

“As an Auror, I demand to know who you are,” Moody barked, his wand drawn. “If you will not tell me, I will administer the Truth Potion.”

“I’m Harry Potter!” Harry said, now trembling. “I swear!”

Moody snorted.

“You can try Veritiserum if you like,” Harry said, taking a risk. “I’ll tell you the same thing.”

“If you are Harry Potter, then give a reasonable explanation for your sudden capabilities,” Moody commanded, his good eye flashing, the magical eye spinning wildly in its socket.

Harry swallowed hard, but knew there was no way to get out of this one without some of the truth coming out. Squaring his shoulders, he looked the Auror in the eyes and said, “I’m from an Aperio.”

Moody looked shocked for only a moment, then his Auror-front was back. “When.”

“When?”

“When did it happen?”

“The first day of summer,” Harry whispered.

“Who are the other two participants?”

“Lupin.”

“And?”

“The identity of the third is unknown, sir.”

Moody’s eyebrows shot up. “What was the reason for the Aperio?”

“Sorry?”

“What wish did you and Lupin both have that brought you into this reality?”

“We wished that my parents had not been killed by Voldemort.”

A long period of silence indicated that Moody was thinking this over. “And what event of importance took place to cause their deaths in the other reality?”

“A prophecy, sir.”

“Of what nature?”

“A prophecy regarding me and… and Voldemort, sir.”

Another pause.

“Its contents?”

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives,” Harry recited.

Moody swore under his breath. “That complicates things, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Voldemort killed your parents?”

“Yes. My mother leapt in front of me, and when he tried to kill me, the curse rebounded and would have killed him if it hadn’t been for the Horcruxes.”

“I suppose that matches up with the part about him marking you as his equal.”

“Yes, sir. I had a scar from his attack. He also duelled me in my fourth year.”

The Auror’s eyebrows shot up. “Who won?”

“I did.”

Moody stared into his Foe Glass for a long time, then looked back at Harry. “Give me a reason why I should believe you.”

“The Horcruxes, sir,” Harry said promptly. “I learned that information from Dumbledore himself.”

“Dumbledore was alive?”

Harry swallowed again. “Until last June, sir.”

“How did he die?”

“Snape killed him.”

Snape?”

“Yes, sir. He was a Hogwarts Professor.”

Moody sighed, and took a seat across from Harry. “I see. Very well. How did Lupin acquire the Diary? I was among the team of Aurors who searched the school, and we found nothing, yet he claims to have found it here.”

“It was in the Chamber of Secrets.”

This merited a reaction. Moody jerked a little, but quickly recovered. “And how did he know where the entrance was?”

“I told him. I’m a Parselmouth. I opened the Chamber and Lupin, McGonagall, and I went down and retrieved Riddle’s diary.”

“How did you know the location of its entrance?”

“In my second year, Lucius Malfoy gave the diary to Ginny Weasley, but people thought I was the one opening the Chamber when the attacks began. My friends and I figured it out. No one was killed, only Petrified, and when Riddle took Ginny into the Chamber, Ron and I went in and I killed the Basilisk and Riddle.”

“Ronald Weasley?”

“Yes, sir.”

Moody tapped his foot on the ground. “That explains the foolish rescue mission,” he said under his breath. “You looked very uneasy when you entered my office. Don’t look surprised, boy, I notice things no one else would. You have bad memories of this place.”

Harry looked down at his hands. “During our fourth year, you came to teach at Hogwarts, sir. We thought it was you, but it was really Barty Crouch, Jr. He imprisoned you in your magical trunk and took Polyjuice all year long. It was the Triwizard Tournament, and he Confunded the Cup and entered my name. During the last Task, he made the Triwizard Cup into a Portkey. When I touched the Portkey, it took me to a graveyard where Voldemort used my blood to resurrect himself. I escaped, and when I got back, Crouch tried to kill me. Dumbledore got here just in time and used Veritiserum to make Crouch tell the truth.”

“I see,” Moody said, after a long pause. “I apologize, Potter, for threatening you with Veritiserum. I first thought you might be a Death Eater in disguise, but not even a Death Eater is stupid enough to throw around spells normal students don’t know, or willingly let himself get locked up in Azkaban.”

Harry felt a grin spreading over his face.

“But I will advise you to be very cautions. If you do as well in other classes as you do in mine, your cover will quickly be blown. Constant vigilance, and don’t get cocky simply because your skills are greater than other students’ abilities.”

“No, sir. You won’t tell anyone, will you?” Harry asked worriedly.

“No, Mr. Potter, you have my word of honor. Your secret is safe.”

“Thanks.”

Moody stood. “Class is nearly over. You first.”

Harry slipped off the stool and made for the door. “I would be very interested to hear more of the other reality at another time,” Moody said as Harry turned the doorknob.

“Yes, sir.”

The class was still practicing the spells. It looked as if several people had been successful. Neville was now frozen while Daphne frantically looked for the counter spell for the Impedimenta Charm in her textbook. Seamus had conjured a nice blue shield around him, and was trying to get everyone else to look at it.

“Detention, Potter,” Moody said quietly as he clunked into the room behind Harry. “Wednesday night.”

Harry spun around, his mouth open, but the edges of Moody’s mouth were curling upward. The Auror winked at him.

Harry nodded and grinned back, then picked up his bag and headed for the door.




“He gave you detention?” Jeremy bellowed, pounding his fist on the table. Harry’s ink bottle spilled all over the Transfiguration essay he was trying to finish.

Harry bit back a few choice words, and quickly muttered a cleaning spell. The ink disappeared off his paper. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Why’d he give you detention?” the other boy demanded.

“For being a bloody know-it-all,” Harry said lightly. “Can I get back to my essay now?”

“He’s as bad as Clark,” Jeremy muttered as he returned to his own Transfiguration homework.

Harry was on his second essay–fortunately the Transfiguration class had only been assigned three during Harry’s absence–and he was halfway finished with it. It was seven in the evening, and the Common Room was noisy. He didn’t mind the commotion; for some reason he studied better with noise.

“Right. The proper wand movements and nonverbal accompanying incantations for Vanishing reptiles,” he muttered, and dipped his quill into the ink bottle.

A few minutes later, Jeremy threw his book down. “I can’t study anymore,” he said. “I’m going for a fly.”

Harry nodded absent-mindedly, scratching out a sentence he’d just written. Only seconds after Jeremy had left, Leila slipped into his deserted seat.

“Harry. Harry!”

Harry looked up. “What?” he said irritably.

“Tell me the truth. Why’d you get that detention?”

Harry gave her a lopsided grin. “Honestly? I have no idea.” He sobered. “I told Moody the truth.”

A soft gasp. “You did?”

“I had no choice, Leila. I got all the spells right on the first try in Defence Class. He wanted to know why. If I refused, he would’ve used Veritiserum on me.”

“Veriti-what?”

“Truth Serum. Makes you tell the truth.”

Her mouth formed an O. “Maybe he wants to know more.”

“About the Aperio?”

“About the other reality.”

“That could be it,” Harry said, frowning down at his essay.

Leila stared over at the fire for a few moments. “I know,” she said suddenly. “I’ll bet he’s going to teach you some more advanced spells and just needs an excuse to get you to his office.”

Harry sat up. “Yeah,” he said, raking his fingers through his hair. “You know, Leila, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re right!”

She smirked. “You can pay me later.”

He swatted, but missed. “My brilliant sister. Too bad she’s the biggest prat in Britian.”

Now Harry was the one ducking for cover.

“Why are you studying so hard?” Leila said after she had successfully landed a few blows on his arms and head.

“Clark made me make up the work, remember? Plus I’ve got a Herbology essay. And Quidditch Tryouts are tomorrow, so I won’t have time Tuesday night.”

Leila sighed exasperatedly. “Harry. The surest way to blow your cover is to do exactly what you’re doing now.”

Harry looked at her, confused. “What?”

“Study. You never study!”

“I don’t?”

“No.”

“Oh. So I should stop studying.”

“No, that’s not what I meant!”

“That’s what it sounded like.”

“Git.”

“Prat.”

“Idiot.”


“Moron.”

“Dingbat.”

“Hippogriff.” This led into a duel of insults derived from both Wizarding and Muggle animal names. When Harry felt he’d had quite enough, he crossed his arms sourly and said, “So what should I do? Pick my nose and stare blankly into the fire? Go hex a few Slytherins because I’m bored?”

No.” Leila covered her face for a few moments. Harry couldn’t decide if she was crying, or simply trying to gain control. The latter was correct. Leila finally removed her hands from her eyes. “All I’m trying to say, Harry, is that you shouldn’t study so much in public. People are going to think you’ve gone bonkers. Harry Potter, bookworm?”

“I don’t plan on being engrossed in these oh-so-fascinating books any longer than I have to,” he informed her dryly.

“You’re incorrigible,” she informed him.

“You’re hopelessly annoying,” Harry retaliated.

“Merlin’s Beard,” she muttered. “I’m leaving before you make me hex you.”



The candles in the Common Room were going out one by one. Harry looked at his watch (another of his birthday presents) and sighed. It was almost ten. He was finally done with his Herbology essay, which had taken him much longer than he’d expected, even though it was about the magical properties of Fanged Geraniums, a plant he’d studied two years previously.

Harry gathered up his books and shoved them in his bag. He yawned. Good thing I’m not on Prefect Duties tonight.

There were only a few people left in the Common Room. Most of the Gryffindors had gone to bed. Several third years were chatting over in the corner, four haggard fifth years were frantically scribbling essays at a table in the corner, and a couple of sixth years were snogging in the chair in front of the fireplace.

Harry hoisted his bag up onto his shoulder and was ready to head up the stairs when something caught his attention. The portrait hole was opening.

A tall boy stepped through, shutting the painting behind him. He turned and strode toward the stairs to the dormitory, but suddenly stopped when Harry met his eyes.

Harry quickly made up his mind. It was now or never. He dropped his bag next to the staircase. “Ron,” he said, closing the gap. “Can I have a word with you?”

Ron glared at him. “Why?”

“Nothing much. See?” Harry held out his hands. “No wand. I left it in my bag.”

Ron looked as if he’d rather face an Acromantula than be forced to talk to Harry, but finally he gave a tiny nod.

“Outside?” Harry asked.

“Make it quick,” Ron snapped.

Harry led the way toward the portrait hole. “Where are you going?” the Fat Lady said irritably as she swung open.

“Nowhere,” Harry told her, and he looked back to see if Ron was coming. He was, but very hesitantly.

“Ron, I won’t mince words,” Harry said quickly once Ron was through the portrait hole. “I want you to try out for Keeper tomorrow night.”

Ron’s jaw dropped. “Keeper? Why? You’re the Keeper.” His voice grew darker. “You want me to come try out so you and all your friends can laugh at how stupid I look.”

“No, no! It isn’t that way at all,” Harry protested. “I need you as Keeper. I’m… I… Er… I can’t play Keeper.”

“Why not?” Ron said suspiciously.

“I just can’t,” Harry said. “The reason’s not important, but I just can’t. That’s why I need you.”

Ron laughed harshly. “Funny Quidditch team that’ll make. Seven players and one Captain who sits on the ground and yells orders.”

Harry clenched his fists, but controlled his voice. “I’m just going to play a different position, that’s all.”

“Which position?”

Harry closed his eyes. “Seeker.”

Seeker?”

“Seeker. I practiced over the summer. We don’t have a Seeker for the team.”

“Why are you asking me to be Keeper?” Ron said, still looking doubtfully at Harry.

“Your brothers told me you were decent,” Harry said.

Ron looked away. “Oh.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably. “That’s all I wanted to ask you. We need you on the team, Ron.”

Ron didn’t say anything, so Harry moved back toward the portrait hole. “Jupiter’s moon,” he told the Fat Lady, who grumbled about the time as she swung open.

“Potter.”

Harry turned. “Yeah?”

“About… about Ginny,” Ron said awkwardly, then paused, swallowing hard. Harry waited. “I just want to say, thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Harry said firmly. “I have one more thing to tell you too.” He paused, looked Ron straight in the eye, and grinned maniacally. “You’d better watch your back, ‘cause Jeremy and I are going to make you pay for the Love Potions.”

Harry was sure he caught a glimmer of a smile on Ron’s face before he stepped back through the Portrait hole.


Reviews 309
ChapterPrinter
StoryPrinter




../back
‘! Go To Top ‘!

Sink Into Your Eyes is hosted by Grey Media Internet Services. HARRY POTTER, characters, names and related characters are trademarks of Warner Bros. TM & © 2001-2006. Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions on this site are those made by the owners. All stories(fanfiction) are owned by the author and are subject to copyright law under transformative use. Authors on this site take no compensation for their works. This site © 2003-2006 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Special thanks to: Aredhel, Kaz, Michelle, and Jeco for all the hard work on SIYE 1.0 and to Marta for the wonderful artwork.
Featured Artwork © 2003-2006 by Yethro.
Design and code © 2006 by SteveD3(AdminQ)
Additional coding © 2008 by melkior and Bear