A/N: I'm sorry for the long wait, but just to let you know, this isn't my main story… "Returning to Life" (a James-comes-back-to-life story) is… so the updates may be rather slow.
This chapter has NOT been betaed… mostly because my stupid e-mail isn't working. I don't know why; it just won't let me log in. My apologies to the readers for mistakes and to my betas, sphinxgurl and Persephone of Peridot.
Here is the chapter… the cliffhanger is over!!! Hehe.
Plus, I made a mistake in the last chapter. Where it said "scanning the articles on attacks in various towns with his green… oops, brown eyes," I really meant "blue eyes." Sorry!
Chapter Four of "Starting Over in a New World" by Morsmordre
Harry's counterpart looked almost exactly like himself. There was the same unruly black hair, the same emerald green eyes, and the same glasses… except for the fact that they (the glasses, that is) weren't broken. But there was one major difference, Harry realized, as his eyes traveled up to his counterpart's forehead…
There was no scar.
"Er, hello?"
Harry (I'm just going to call him Peter for now—it isn't permanent; it's for only when the other Harry from the alternate dimension is with the Harry from the canon dimension in the same place) blinked and saw that his counterpart was staring at him.
"Are you all right?" Harry asked.
"Er…" Peter nodded quickly. "I'm fine." He glanced over at Neville, who simply shrugged back at him. "You could sit down or something."
Harry blinked and nodded. "OK," he said slowly, and sat down. Ron Weasley sat next to him, and Hermione Granger and Michael Corner across from them.
Peter busied himself with tidying up a table where a customer had left, and he just overheard snatches of their conversation.
"He was looking at you funny," Ron could be heard saying. "What's the matter with him?"
"Who knows; who cares? You always have to overanalyze everything, Ron. It's annoying," Harry replied, laughing.
"Just wondering," Ron retorted, scowling. "Where's Ginny?"
"Detention, remember?" Michael asked. "Thought that even you would remember that… ever since the Chamber incident in second year, you've been way too overprotective of her. And you're only a year older than her."
Peter's grip tightened on the cleaning rag he was holding.
Michael seemed to have realized that he said something wrong, because he added quickly, "Sorry. Didn't mean to bring up bad memories…"
"Bad memories?" Ron snarled. "Bad memories?! One of my best mates died rescuing her, and you say that was bad memories?!"
"Sorry," Michael muttered, and fell silent. He seemed to be content with sipping the butterbeers Neville had brought them and not saying anything.
Meanwhile, Harry's (I'm going to call him "Harry" and not "Peter" now, OK? Jeez, this can get a bit confusing…) mind was buzzing. So someone had died rescuing Ginny… Who was it? It couldn't be his counterpart, when said counterpart was sitting right across from him in the booth next to the one he was tidying up. Maybe it was Neville… who knew? The Harry of this world didn't have the scar, so maybe the Neville of this world was the Boy-Who-Lived. And he hadn't seen the Neville of this world anywhere…
Harry threw down the cleaning rag. He needed some answers, and where better than to get them from the Hogwarts library? He really needed to get there.
Before Harry could say anything to Neville or Rosmerta, however, the bell above the door of the Three Broomsticks tinkled again, signaling the entrance of someone else.
It was Dumbledore.
So, Harry realized, Dumbledore was still alive here. He looked perfectly fine, if not in the middle of a war.
Damn it. I need answers to my questions!!!
"Hello," Dumbledore greeted Rosmerta pleasantly. "I'd like a butterbeer, if that's OK with you…"
"Of course. You know anyone is welcome here." Rosmerta paused. "Well, almost anyone…"
Harry knew she was referring to Death Eaters or Voldemort himself.
Dumbledore and Rosmerta lowered their voices, so Harry couldn't hear what they were saying. But after a moment, Dumbledore walked over and greeted Harry neutrally.
"Hello… Peter Thompson?" Dumbledore began.
Harry mentally swore. Of course! Rosmerta didn't completely trust them (Harry couldn't blame her—if they were in the middle of a war against Voldemort, it would be unwise to judge people on first impressions) and had told Dumbledore about the fraternal twins who had showed up at her pub, seeking work and a place to stay. And now Dumbledore was here to interrogate him.
"I've never seen or heard of you before," Dumbledore commented lightly as he took a seat. "May I ask a few questions?"
Oh, nice, Dumbledore. Reaaallly nice. So very subtle and smooth…
Not.
Honestly, could he be any more obvious about it?
But then again, maybe that was a good thing. Harry had had to deal with a manipulative Dumbledore back in his dimension all the time. It had been rather annoying.
Harry plastered on a fake smile, preparing for the interrogation. "Sure you can. Would you like to speak to my twin brother, Tom, as well?"
He saw Dumbledore's eyes widen at the word… er, name Tom. So he knew Voldemort's identity.
"That would be appreciated," Dumbledore agreed with a nod of his head.
"Oy! Tom!" Harry called.
Neville ignored him—whether it was because he didn't want to speak to Dumbledore right now or if it was because he wasn't used to people calling him "Tom," Harry didn't know.
"Wait a moment," Harry muttered to Dumbledore and then sidled up to Neville and poked him… hard.
"Ow! What was that for?" Neville demanded, whirling around.
Harry nodded subtly—or what he hoped was subtly—at Dumbledore and mouthed, "Dumbledore wants to speak to us."
Neville seemed to understand what Dumbledore probably really wanted, because he shrugged and mouthed back, "OK," and followed Harry to a seat where Dumbledore was.
"So… Where do you come from?" Dumbledore asked, taking a sip of his butterbeer.
Harry was about to answer, but Neville beat him to it. "Australia," he returned smoothly. "We were born there and grew up there, but we decided to move here, to Britain."
"I see," Dumbledore mused.
That was when Harry felt a light probing in his mind. If it weren't for his very strong Occlumency shields, Harry wouldn't have noticed it.
Damn, he cursed to himself.
Harry wasn't going to take down his Occlumency shields or anything… not that he wanted to. But Dumbledore would probably find it suspicious that his Occlumency shields were so strong when most people didn't even have any.
Dumbledore, meanwhile, raised his eyebrows (but just slightly, so no one would notice) at the impressive Occlumency shields Peter Thompson seemed to have. While most people's minds were disorganized and had information running all over the place, Peter Thompson's memories, thoughts, and feelings were neatly stacked in boxes behind a formidable, looming gray stone wall. Dumbledore would need something very strong to break through the shields… and he wasn't going to.
Dumbledore retreated out of the Australian's mind and studied his face carefully for any indication that he had felt the gentle probing. But Peter looked like nothing had happened… he was still sitting there, now discussing something with his twin, Tom.
Dumbledore tried Tom's mind next. Tom had Occlumency shields, too, but Dumbledore could tell they weren't his own. Someone was protecting Tom's mind for him… but whom? Perhaps Peter, his twin?
Harry, meanwhile, felt very annoyed indeed that just one question into the interrogation and Dumbledore was already prying around in their heads for answers. Neville probably felt the same way, only a milder version of "annoyed" would better suit him.
After what seemed like forever, Dumbledore finally stopped asking questions and stood up and left with a few parting words: "You're welcome at Hogwarts at any time, you know."
Harry nodded his head, when he suddenly remembered the Hogwarts library. "Actually, I'd like to come today, if that's possible."
Dumbledore seemed a bit surprised, but he hid it well. "Alright," he agreed.
"Let me just grab… a jacket or something," Harry lied.
Dumbledore nodded his consent.
"You coming… Tom?" Harry asked.
"Sure." Neville got up and followed Harry up to their rooms.
Shaneera was on Harry's bed, and hissing to boot, when Harry walked into his room.
::Where are you going?:: Shaneera wanted to know.
::Hogwarts:: Harry replied vaguely.
::Can I go?::
::No::
::Why not?::
::Because if the people in this alternate reality—::
Harry didn't get to finish his sentence.
::There you go with the alternate reality again. What do you mean by it?::
::I thought you were smart. You said you were::
Shaneera chose not to reply to that.
::Well, why can't I come?::
::Because the people in this alternate reality are perhaps in the middle of a war against Voldemort, and snakes represent him. People will think I'm a Death Eater if I bring a snake to Hogwarts::
::Then hide me::
::Too bad; I won't::
::I really don't know why I put up with you, Master::
Harry rolled his eyes and left the room before Shaneera could make any more comments, and went to meet Neville in the hall.
He hadn't expecting on Hedwig flying up to him and pecking him, though.
By the time Harry finally escaped from his attacking owl, he was sore—and pecked—all over.
"Demented owl," Harry muttered an explanation at Neville's questioning gaze.
The long trek up to Hogwarts castle seemed to take forever, but maybe that was just because of Dumbledore, in front of him. Even though Dumbledore was well over a few paces ahead, Harry didn't dare discuss anything important with Neville with Dumbledore nearby.
"Would you like to meet the teachers?" Dumbledore asked politely when the trio had finally reached the Hogwarts doors.
"Maybe later. I'd like to check out the Hogwarts library first," Harry replied in the most nonchalant tone of voice he could.
"All right," Dumbledore agreed, but Harry—and Neville, for that matter—didn't miss Dumbledore narrowing his eyes suspiciously.
Harry played dumb and asked how to get to the library. After receiving directions, he and Neville left.
After a silent walk, Madam Pince let them in the library. Neville and Harry immediately went after the archive of newspapers.
"My God… they have them dating back to the early 1800's!" Neville exclaimed in shock, pulling out a particularly old pile.
"We don't need those," Harry muttered. "Search for newspapers from the early 1980's…"
After a few minutes, all the necessary newspapers were out, and both Harry and Neville began searching through them for information about this new world they were both in.
A/N: Yes, I know, this chapter completely sucked and was very, very short, but I'm not in a writing mood right now. At least, not for this story. I really want to get this chapter out, though, as well as the seventh chapter of "Returning to Life," so it's of poor quality. I will either rewrite and repost this chapter some other time, and/or the next chapter will be better. Promise!
-Morsmordre