THEORIES

Remus rapped on the portrait's frame uncertainly. It was eight thirty in the morning, and he had spent what remained of his night in bed, tossing and turning. He hadn't had nightmares. To have nightmares he would have implied that he had slept. Harry Potter had the mysterious power to turn Remus into an insomniac.

The mother in the painting guarding Harry's rooms smiled benevolently at him, looking dreamily content. Remus exhaled an annoyed sigh, wondering why it was that Hogwarts portraits were all so unbearably smug. He was standing outside the portrait because he couldn't seem to find the will within himself to open it and face whatever phenomenon it was that had made Albus so wary.

He smiled in relief when the portrait shimmered slightly, before fading all together. It revealed a surprised looking Harry Potter, owlishly blinking emerald eyes at the werewolf, dressed in crumpled Gryffindor robes.

The casual silence of the corridor suddenly sharpened so that it was dangerously taut. Harry eyed Remus confusedly, but with a certain amount of calculation. Remus watched the teenager wearily, fingers tapping an agitated beat onto the handle of his mahogany wand. Neither of them moved, and the painting did not reappear.

There was something else on Harry's face that set Remus's teeth on edge though. He had an ominous feeling that this was what Albus had been talking about: that hesitant familiarity. It may have been unconscious, but Remus could see it as plain as day. Harry trusted him. On some level, at least.

The teenager seemed reluctant to speak first.

"Do you know who I am?" Remus asked finally, wondering if he could find an answer to the trust he could see silently glowing in the teenagers face.

Not seeing a reason to lie, Harry blinked once more in confusion (which was fast becoming his natural state) and nodded. "You're Professor Lupin." He supplied matter of factly, before pausing, "Professor Remus J. Lupin."

"And you're Harry Potter," Remus sighed.

"Why does that have to be a bad thing, anyway?" Harry asked, suddenly looking angry. He scowled, scrunching up his face. "All I've gotten since I got back to Hogwarts is people acting like being me is a fate they wouldn't even wish on Voldemort!"

Remus winced appropriately, although he found himself awed at Harry's casual use of the Dark Lord's name. He noted the disgusted look on the others face (at his wince) with a mild curiosity.

"So now you're afraid to say his name, Professor?" 'Harry' asked bitingly, his voice venomous. Remus instantly gained the impression that biting sarcasm was not as natural to Harry as it was to Severus Snape, because the boy was obviously fueled by anger, and predominantly, confusion. For that reason, it was more than the malice in his voice that ashamed Remus, it was the genuine hurt that was buried beneath it.

But it was a curious thing to say. This must have been what Albus had been referring to when he'd mentioned 'mismatched memory'. Remus had never been a Professor in his life, and he'd certainly never spoken Voldemort's name as though he were merely commenting on the weather. He had too much respect for those dead in the war to misuse the name, and also, he admitted to himself, not a little fear. Somehow, this person before him 'knew' a Remus Lupin whose circumstance had clearly been quite different from his own.

And didn't that conjure up a lovely set of impossibilities.

Albus' only explanation to the events had been a displaced memory charm. Any one of a variety of them could have been used to alter and dissolve memories within the teenager. Yet the Headmaster had also expressed a doubt.

"Call it a seventh sense Remus. This is the truly magical one. I have a fear that what may have occurred here is a few hundred inches over our heads."

"Why would I want to speak the name of a murdering dictator like Him? Don't you understand the association and images that speaking about Him can call up in a person?" Remus questioned, instead of answering Harry. The teenager's scowl darkened to unprecedented heights, and Remus actually fought back a chuckle.

He'd never seen Harry Potter look so put-out before.

"I don't want to have to stand around here all day, Harry." Remus said, realizing that the other boy had decided not to argue the point. "The Headmaster wanted me to take you up to his office so that we could all talk there."

At the mention of the Headmaster and talking Harry perked up, having just remembered something. Remus could imagine his ear twitching.

"Vole wanted to talk to the Headmaster about something last night. I don't know if he already has." Harry said softly, stepping out through the portrait hole, brushing his robes down self consciously.

Remus cast his mind, trying to remember if the Headmaster had mentioned a 'Vole' at any point. Harry didn't seem to notice that Remus had no idea what he was talking about, and stood expectantly, waiting to walk to the Headmasters office.

The walked silently for a few corridors.

"I suppose you don't remember me either?" Harry finally sighed as they passed a painting featuring only a landscape of jellyfish. His voice was both wistful and accusing. He kicked invisible dirt, and shot a sulky glance towards Remus. The unspeakable was silent, considering and thinking and trying to possibly find an answer to this confusing situation.

"No, I don't." He confirmed.

Harry's face flushed from devastation to anger and then back to a heart-breaking terror. Remus found himself facing the very obvious potential for depression within the teenager. It was a well-documented side effect of some curses and potions that messed with memory. By fabricating memories within his mind, 'Harry' now had no friends, no family, nothing he knew could be trusted, his very morals could be brought into question – results as they possibly were of dark, dark magic.

And although these memory potions seemed the only answer that fit the problem, Remus wasn't sure that they were on the right track with them. In fact, he was beginning to doubt the entire idea completely.

Let's just be crazy, he thought, and assume that this really is Harry Potter. Then what?

'Then what?' indeed.

"I take it that I should know you? That you know me?" he asked Harry, eager to find out more about what was going on inside the young man's mind.

Harry nodded.

"You were my Professor in third year, and we…" Harry paused, squinted his eyes as though trying to remember something, before shaking his head in frustration. "Did stuff." He finished lamely.

Remus' eyes widened incredibly.

Harry's face reddened and he shook his head, seeing that conclusions that the werewolf might have come to.

"Not that kind of stuff!" he choked, looking disgusted. Despite himself, Remus felt a little miffed; before he realized that he was actually offended by the teenager's clear disdain, and shook his head with an amused smile. Harry was looking like he'd just eaten something very unpleasant.

He gave Remus a strange sideways look.

"Because I'm into girls you know." He pouted, apparently seeing the humor in the situation as well. Remus turned to look at the teenager speculatively.

"Sounds like you're trying to convince yourself more than me, Harry." He said with a carefully casual shrug. They both laughed a little, and the tension that had been in the air dissipated. Remus was shocked to find himself having a conversation like this with the supposed 'Harry Potter'. He hadn't expected the teenager to inadvertently make a slight sexual innuendo, and then blush like a first year when he was called up on it. He hadn't expected to be laughing along.

The continued down the hallways, passing by students. They were barely glanced at. "So what does 'stuff' entail?" Remus asked as they were nearly knocked over by a group of rushing Hufflepuff first years.

Harry looked cautious.

"You know Sirius Black?" he asked. Remus noted that he'd made sure to turn and look at Remus full on when he asked the question, carefully watching Remus' reaction to the query. Remus wasn't aware of his face giving anything away, but whatever Harry was looking for, he seemed to find it. "Well we helped him out of a fix, I guess you could say." Harry continued, turning back around and looking a little sheepish.

It was Remus' turn to smirk.

"Doesn't surprise me. Sirius is awfully good at finding himself in situations where he needs bailing out." Remus said fondly. He didn't notice Harry's involuntary intake of breath, nor the slight falter in the teen's footsteps as he used the present tense to describe his godfather.

Remus was thinking about what Harry had said. It sounded to him that Harry's memories were a hell of a lot more fun than the reality. The 'real' third year had certainly had no fun pranks with Sirius and himself. Instead, a withdrawn Harry had dispassionately told his parents that he'd rather die than go home for Christmas. No one had been certain if he was telling the truth or just pulling their legs, but despite everything, the thirteen year old had stayed at Hogwarts for the Winter break. He couldn't help but imagine that a world where James Potter's son got along so wonderfully with his godfather and friends was a world that wouldn't be half bad.

Remus came up short with a sharp gasp as he realized exactly what he had just thought:

A world that wouldn't be half bad.

Harry was looking at him curiously, lines of worry and concern crinkling his forehead. The teenager looked distracted. His eyes were far-away, and Remus wondered just how truly far this 'Harry Potter' had come to be here standing by his side.

Because he had just had a very exciting idea.

"Are you okay, Professor?" Harry asked him when he didn't move for a few more seconds.

He nodded absently, mind already spinning off in new directions. How he could validate his (admittedly highly unlikely and unprecedented) idea enough to satisfy Albus and every other ministry official who took an interest? How to discover the exact mechanics of how it happened! Possibly even replicate them!

He had continued to walk, looking as though he were in a trance. Harry had zoned back down to Earth and was watching Remus cautiously, as though he could explode at any moment.

They reached the gargoyle about a minute later.

"Remus! Harry!" Dumbledore welcomed them, beaming, "what a pleasure!" he noticed the strange look on Remus' face and turned to Harry, eyebrow arching into his hair-line in a silently amused question.

Harry just shrugged, still feeling vaguely uncomfortable in the Headmasters familiar-yet-not presence.

Remus and Harry both took their seats while Dumbledore placed a dish of pastries before them. Harry suddenly realized exactly how hungry he was, and helped himself do an apricot Danish. Remus didn't even seem to notice that they were there; he was so deep in thought.

Harry felt much more optimistic about the situation now that he was munching breakfast in the Headmasters office, not being held at wand-point (which hadn't seemed so unlikely yesterday) and was feeling completely energized. He was beginning to think that this could be an adventure, rather than disaster.

He took the cup of tea that Dumbledore offered him, smiling as he added his own sugar. Amazing what wonders food could do to a person. He felt unexplainably safer when he was with the Headmaster, even though the man couldn't remember the minor detail of his existence.

"I trust you slept well, Mister Potter?" Albus asked him, once Harry had finished his second pastry and was beginning on his third. Harry's mind flashed to Vole, and his eyebrow rose without his meaning for it to. Dumbledore seemed to understand what he was thinking, and amusement twinkled from his eyes.

"I did." Harry replied honestly, "until about three in the morning. I felt like I'd been sleeping for ages. I couldn't get back to sleep."

Remus grunted from besides him, making the teenager jump. It seemed that the werewolf had tuned back into the conversation from whatever train of thought he'd been pursuing. Dumbledore looked at Remus curiously.

"I barely dare belief that you have already formulated a theory as to the identity of our visitor?" Dumbledore prodded, having noticed Remus' withdrawn and thoughtful behavior.

Harry unconsciously bristled at the insinuation that he wasn't who he said he was, but relaxed as he realized that he had admitted the same possibility to himself only a few hours ago. He turned to look at Remus as well, and was surprised to see a look close to glee masquerading as 'careful thought' on his old professor's face.

Remus nodded, although both the Headmaster could see the tiniest amount of uncertainly beyond the confident action. "I believe, Headmaster, that Harry is exactly who he says he is. That we have Harry Potter sitting right next to us!" he said, his voice excited rather than nervous. It seemed he was going for the dramatic unveiling of his take on the situation.

Albus Dumbledore narrowed his eyes in thought. Clearly Remus was not referring to the Harry Potter whom had attended Hogwarts; otherwise the man would have his wand twitching in his hand. The light in his friend's eyes showed that the man thought whatever had happened was magnificent, rather than malicious.

Albus still didn't quite understand.

"You think that perhaps his parents are not James and Lily? Or that he has obliviated himself?"

Remus was looking smug enough to burst, while Harry's face had suddenly frozen.

"Wait a minute! You do know me! You just admitted that you know me!" he frantically said, head swiveling from the Headmaster to Remus furiously and accusingly. The portraits on the wall were watching him with varying levels of curiosity and disgust. He registered that he couldn't see Vole anywhere before immediately dismissing it in favor of looking at Dumbledore bewilderedly.

There was a silence again, in which neither Remus nor Dumbledore seemed to want to speak. An unnamed portrait coughed, and eventually the Headmaster sighed.

"Harry Potter is not someone I would describe myself of knowing." Albus said, watching the teenager carefully. "But I know enough of him to correctly assume that you are not he."

Harry scoffed at the very idea.

"Of course I'm Harry Potter." He paused a moment, before lifting his fringe. "Scar and all!"

Whoa. He pulled back as both the Headmaster and Remus leaned in to have a look at the curse-scar. He let his bangs fall back down quickly, giving the both of them strange looks. That fear was bubbling through his stomach again.

"Boy-who-lived and all that?" he tried tentatively.

Neither of their faces showed any recognition.

"Harry, can we see that scar again?" Remus asked from his left, and the Headmaster nodded solemnly. "It could help us find out exactly who you are."

That was just too much for Harry.

"What do you mean 'it could help us find out exactly who you are'?! I've had it since I was a baby professor, when Voldemort attacked me!" Remus flinched even harder than he had before at the absolute hatred inflected in Harry's voice, while Albus' eyes took on an intensity that would have been enough to cut through glass. "If you know 'Harry Potter' at all," Harry's voice clearly showed who he thought the imposter was, "then you'd know exactly how I got this scar, and exactly what it means."

Harry was snarling with confusion, and he gestured angrily towards to cupboard where the Headmaster kept his pensieve. He folded his arms furiously, eyes still snapping angrily at the room in general, and grew quiet, carefully watching the two Professors.

Nobody said anything for a few moments.

Remus glanced at the Headmaster, and, seeing that the older man had no intention of breaking the uncomfortable silence, turned to the teenager. The boy's anger had slowly drained away so that he was looking more and more confused by the second.

"Harry Potter was never cursed when he was a baby." Remus said with a sigh, "and Voldemort never got within a hundred yards of him." His eyes darkened considerably, and his voice lowered into a gravelly and angry growl. "Not until later, that is."

Harry shut his eyes painfully. He was beyond the point of thinking that if he closed his eyes and pinched himself he would wake up, but he found some relief in the darkness anyway. He took a deep breathe to calm himself. He just had to get through this. If he could get through this then it would all be okay – everything would go back to normal. He just needed to survive this. Panicking would not help him in any way. Neither would throwing things at the Headmaster's walls.

"I don't understand." He opened his eyes to the pitying faces of Remus and the Headmaster.

"Nor do I, my boy. Nor do I." Albus turned to Remus expectantly, "however I believe that Mr. Lupin has something of an answer?"

Remus blushed, but nodded, more confident than before. He looked between Harry and the Headmaster one last time, before beginning to speak.

"The more I hear about the circumstances, the more I'm convinced it's true. I was thinking on the way here this morning, Headmaster, that if the world truly was as Harry here seems to remember it, it's a much nicer place than what it's like here. Then I realized what I'd just thought: a world!" he paused in excitement, nodding to the other two in the room eagerly.

"Another world where Harry Potter didn't do the things that he did here – where he went, for some reason, on a quest for horcrux's with you, Headmaster. Where he played tricks on his parents, and me and Sirius, even Peter. Because that's what he said – " Remus gestured towards Harry, whose eyes had very suddenly grown into the size of saucers. He started coughing suddenly, cutting Remus off, apparently having forgotten to breathe. There were just so many things wrong with what Remus had just said Harry lost track of them.

The two adults were watching him carefully, although Albus had a speculative look on his face, clearly weighing up what Remus had said so far.

"I never said that." Harry cried to Remus, shaking his head angrily.

"But – " the werewolf began, only to be cut off by Harry again.

"I'd never say that!" Harry continued, becoming hysterical. Remus looked incredibly confused, while Dumbledore's face was devoid of anything for the first time since Harry had seen him that morning. He turned to Remus and motioned for the werewolf to continue.

Remus gave Harry one more confused look, before picking up where he had left off.

"Well, um, a world like that. Where things were different. Imagine if Harry came from an… an… alternate world! I've heard of the hypothesis before, of course. They're unreasonably common among muggles. Related to their 'chaos theory' as best can be described. One event – tiny, tiny – can change everything." Remus finished up, picking up the momentum and confidence he'd lost at the interruption.

Albus' eyes had lit up with understanding.

"It is a curse, perhaps, that after so many years alive in this world such an incredibly novel concept would never have occurred to me. We are very lucky, Remus, that you are such an unconventional thinker."

Harry was still looking confused, although his face had transformed so that it was stuck somewhere between resigned, hopeful, disbelieving and relieved.

"You think I come from a different world?" he asked; just to be sure he understood exactly what was being said.

He didn't understand exactly what was being said, of course. He had no idea about whether what Remus had just proposed was possible or not. He didn't really care. His mind was still on thoughts of his parents, Sirius… Professor Lupin was right. A world where they could be together and he need never have been marked by Voldemort would be a good world.

Remus nodded eagerly in response to his question, while Dumbledore's eyes continued to twinkle away.

Another world… that would explain a lot of what had happened to him lately, of course: the differences in everyone he'd met, the fact that nobody could remember him (or the him that he was, there seemed to be some confusion about another 'Harry Potter'). Oh but wait, his mind suddenly choked out, wait, wait, wait…

"If you think I got here through apparating," he said slowly, working this new theory through with the timeline in his mind. It was making sense, of course; a mistake in apparation meant he'd landed exactly where he'd indented to… only another dimension across. "Then what about Professor Dumbledore?"

Harry looked up at the other two wizards, wishing that just for once his life could be easy. He'd taken an instant shine to Remus' rather impressive 'alternate world' theory, but he still found himself longing for stability that most people took for granted.

"Harry, I will admit that up until this point, I had not given much thought to the eventuation that you were, indeed, who you say you are. I did not think that your memories would carry, if they were truly planted, any value." Dumbledore began softly. "So now I feel it would be best for you to tell Remus and myself exactly what circumstances led up to your unfortunate 'misapparation'."

Harry winced, images of walking dead and fire flashing through his mind. He didn't really feel like going over everything that had happened to him for the last few days, not in the amount of detail that the Headmaster would expect. A lot of what had happened he still didn't understand – that potion, for one.

But he was being silly. Dumbledore needed to know, because it was clearly very important. From this point on, he thought, every detail is important.

With a sigh that shuddered through his body, Harry told Remus and Dumbledore exactly what had happened on the lead up to his disastrous attempt at apparation. When he came to the potion, and the effects it had upon consumption, Dumbledore frowned knowingly while Remus shuddered. He mentioned his own smeared blood sacrifice as they had left the cave, Harry half dragging the Professor, and was interrupted only to ask that this wound had been dealt with.

"Then he said… said that it was okay, because I was there. Like that meant I couldn't stuff up or anything… but I did, and he was so sick!" Harry suddenly felt horrified. He'd been focused on worrying about exactly what was going on around him – at the sudden and strange reactions his presence was receiving – he had almost completely forgotten about the Headmaster and the condition he had last been in.

It had been alright yesterday, because he'd thought that the man in front of him was the very same one who had battled the inferi with fire.

Remus' theory shattered that illusion well and truly. Somewhere, Harry had left Albus Dumbledore (a man whom he very much admired) injured and unwell.

It felt as though his heart had very suddenly turned to lead, and was determinedly moving downwards in his chest.

The Dumbledore across from his had a look of clear fascination spread across his face.

"Was there any trace of… my counterpart when you awoke?" He asked cautiously, old face crinkled with something that was closer to curiosity than worry.

Harry shook his head bleakly.

"Do you think that I… lost him?" Harry asked, his face showing his desperation for Dumbledore to answer negatively. Losing Albus Dumbledore. What a joke. If it wasn't so terrible it would be terribly funny.

There was a pregnant pause in the office. Remus was looking reserved, while Albus was carefully considering the young man in front of him. Harry was uncertain what the Headmaster saw when he looked, as he did, with such intensity at his students (or maybe it was just reserved for Harry) but he was quite sure that whatever it was, it was a skill that was unique to Albus Dumbledore.

"If my counterpart trusted your abilities so implicitly, Mister Potter, who am I to question his judgment? I have confidence that you have by no means 'lost' my counterpart. There are many explanations as to why I was not there when you awoke in this world. I believe it is merely a case of waiting until we are aware of what they are." He paused to smile benignly at Harry as the teenager deflated in relief. "If you were able to make it into this 'reality' then I have faith that you were able to bring the Albus Dumbledore of your world."

Remus was nodding at the unspoken logic in the Headmasters statement.

"Mister Potter," he said, to get the young mans attention.

Harry looked startled for a moment as he turned to his ex-professor. "You can call me Harry, um, Professor Lupin." He said, blushing slightly at the twinkle in the Headmasters eyes.

Remus was still getting used to this new Harry Potter. He'd heard the phrase 'wolf in sheep's clothing', but he rather thought it was the exact opposite with the young man sitting besides him. He shuddered to think of the disaster that could have been caused in Harry's world had the situation been reversed, and had the Harry of this world traveled to the world of the young man before him.

"Well then it's Remus, of course." He smiled at the surprised look in the teenagers eyes. It was as if he had expected Remus to call him by his name, but not to be offered the same courtesy in return. "I've never been a professor." Remus confessed.

Harry looked confused.

"But who was the Defense Professor in my third year? Uh, that is, '93."

Remus started to laugh instantly, as he realized what Harry was asking. Harry looked at the Headmaster, to see if he would explain the werewolf's chuckles, but Dumbledore had that infernal twinkle sparkling away in his own private amusement.

Harry was not amused to find that even the portraits were wearing satisfied smirks.

"I guess you mean that where you come from you have different Professors for defense each year?" Remus asked, still looking like the cat that got the cream.

Harry instantly realized what he was saying. "You fixed it?"

"Not so much fixed it, my boy, as worked around it." Dumbledore answered. "It was an interesting curse. And not easily tricked. The caster certainly knew what he was doing – he had a very well hidden focus."

"Voldemort." Harry sneered. He had perked up at the mention of a 'focus', sure that he'd been learning about them recently in one of his classes. Remus and the Headmaster were both giving him bemused looks, and Harry felt it was appropriate recompense for laughing at him.

"Indeed." Dumbledore said thoughtfully.

None of them spoke as they all considered their separate thoughts. Harry was thinking about exactly how (and why) the Professors had broken the curse in this world, where they remained oblivious in his own. Remus was trying to understand why a teenager such as Harry was privy to such a well-kept secret as the curse Tom Riddle had laid upon the school years before. Dumbledore was wondering when he would have the pleasure of meeting himself.

The silence stretched long enough for Harry to feel self-conscious breaking it, so he waited for either of the adults to say something. Neither of them looked like they would be so inclined any time soon.

Maybe it was time for a little introspective thought then.

An alternate world.

It certainly explained a lot.

But what he needed to be thinking about now was the future. How he could get back. How he could find his own Dumbledore. Perhaps not in that order, though.

He had a horribly nagging suspicion that getting home would not be nearly as easy as he was wishing it could be.

This was going to mean he would have to stay in this strange world for a little (and possibly a lot) longer. Harry started to frown as he thought about the situation. Dumbledore had been dropping hints about his alternate self that were as heavy as elephants. There was that feeling again, invading his stomach with lead cannon balls and sinking just as fast.

Harry forgot he wasn't speaking until someone else did, caught up in his suddenly forbidding thoughts as he was.

"Professor, what is my other self like?"

The look on Remus' face, if not Dumbledore's, was enough to tell Harry that his question had hit some invisible bull's-eye. Which meant either two things: Harry's other self was dead (which seemed unlikely, considering they had thought for a while that he was him), or was a bad, bad boy.

"Ah, Harry, my boy." Dumbledore said regretfully. "Now that is not that the million galleon question?"

Happy New Year to everyone!! May 2007 be the year to yield your hearts desires! Much love to you all.