Chapter 2

Harry Potter had no idea where the hell he was now.

It was a white...room? Hall? Hell? He couldn't guess, though it certainly wasn't heaven. Not after everything he'd done in his past life.

The only thing his eyes could see was white. The pure whiteness stretched out in all directions as far as his vision extended. The entire world may be curtain of white for him right now.

"Um, who are you?" A hesitant voice called out, and Harry quickly turned around, his hand going for his holster...

...Only to realise that he was completely naked.

Worse, occlumency seemed to have abandoned him completely. Even the pathetic rudimentary shields he had managed to cultivate in his previous life.

That didn't mean he was embarrassed about his nudity though. Harry Potter had long since burnt away such mortal insecurities.

"Oh Merlin, Just Will your clothes to existence and stop flashing me please." The shy voice was now laced with amusement and discomfort.

But of course, just because he was fine with it didn't mean others will be.

He closed his eyes and followed the unknown voice's instructions.

The next moment his body was fully clothed, and the voice gave an audible sigh of relief.

Only then did the unknown voice finally reveal itself, taking the figure of a young boy that came to stand in front of him. 14, perhaps 15, the boy stood with unblinking eyes.

With Well-defined cheekbones and a sharp jaw, the boy had the kind of handsome, aristocratic face that Harry had once envied in the past, when he actually had cared for things like looks and physique. But when the boy looked at him, by far the feature that truly caught Harry's attention were the eyes; Emerald green eyes the shade of a killing curse.

His own eyes stared back at him with caution and confusion.

"So, um..not to he rude or anything but...what are you doing here?" The boy asked hesitatingly.

"What am I doing here?" Harry snorted. "Who the fuck knows. How about we start with who you are, eh?"

It seems it was the wrong thing to ask, because instantly the boy was on guard, anger flashing in his eyes. "Who am I? You enter my mind without permission and ask me about my presence?"

"Calm down, mate." Harry rolled his eyes, unused to extended amount of conversations. Running from Voldemort had left him quite out of practice with talking. "No need to get your undies in a twist. If you have some answers, Great. If not, then just shut up for a moment."

If anything, the boy seemed to grow even more angry, and harry realised he was talking to a teenager. A phase where any hit to the ego was taken like a personal attack.

"You have ten seconds before my occlumency shields push you out." The boy announced coldly.

Harry ignored him in favour of analysing the situation.

Obviously by now it was clear to him that he was inside the mind of the previous owner of this body. Not that he was going to reveal it cause he doubted the reaction he will recieve would be great.

If his future self came knocking and announced himself to be the new owner of their body, Harry wouldn't take it kindly either.

Honestly, Harry had no idea what to do right now. He never wanted to actually replace another mind or soul; that came too close to murder for his taste. This was a complication that he simply hadn't planned for before coming back in time.

"Look," he started, but his younger Slytherin self seemed to have run out of patience.

"Alright, off you go mister... whoever you are." The boy said, waving his hand at his direction.

A bright blue shield materialised out of thin air suddenly, and started closing in on him. This brand of magic was unlike anything he'd ever faced and it left him on the backfoot as he tried to come up with some ways to counter the attack or protect himself.

But without a wand, his options were quite limited. His thoughts raced a mile a minute, before he realised his answer lay right in front of him.

So he finally just tried to Will a wand in his hands.

Thankfully it worked, and his beloved Holly wand materialised in his grasp.

The blue wall of energy was right in front of him when he finally cast a silent shield charm. But shockingly, the wall of energy completely bypassed his shield and collided straight with him.

Harry flinched back, preparing to be pushed out. Instead, the wall passed through him like smoke as well, doing absolutely nothing save for giving a small tingling sensation in his stomach.

"What." Slytherin Harry scowled in confusion.

Older Harry turned to him with a frown. "I have no idea what the fuck just happened but...let's start this fight properly shall we?"

He swished forth his wand, launching a quick silent stunner before preparing a chain of rapid spells.

But it wasn't needed.

Because It soon became clear that his Slytherin counterpart wasn't a good dueler. Instead of blocking or dodging, the boy threw himself to the ground with a startled yell, managing to avoid the spell but completely leaving himself at the mercy of his next attack.

Harry frowned, wondering if this was some new tactic of dueling in this world, before cautiously launching another stunner.

He wasn't surprised when his opponent simply turned into smoke when the spell hit him. No way would an opponent who can launch that kind of shield wall would be so easily defeated by a couple of stunners. He got ready for the next round, looking around at the white nothingness to search for his hidden enemy.

It soon became clear though that there will be no 2nd round. The white nothingness slowly but surely started to melt off into a different structure as other colours mixed in, and Harry soon found himself standing alone in the middle of Hogwart's library.

He wondered if this was some kind of trick from his Slytherin counterpart, before letting the matter drop for something more interesting.

This Hogwarts library wasn't real. He could see that it wasn't completely solid, what with the shelves flickering like hazy smoke, and the books looking translucent.

He approached one of the transfiguration shelves, glancing over the familiar titles.

'Intermediate Guide to Transfiguration.' One of the titles read, and Harry extended his hand to pick it up. He wasn't surprised when his hand passed through the book without making any contact.

But he very much was surprised when the scene began to change again.

And he found himself falling into darkness as suddenly a hole formed directly underneath his feets. Then he kept falling...falling...and falling....

----------------------------

Harry Potter was stuck in a dream.

He dreamt about a life he never had. Dreamt about a life where he never had to sleep in a cupboard, a life where he never felt the absence of parents. A life free or dangers and threats, full of happiness and joy. Well... atleast until he joined Hogwarts.

In this world, the Dursleys were good parents to him. They didn't like magic here either, but atleast they never held it against young Harry. He was treated well; had his own room since he was 5, was encouraged to eat as much as Dudley (An impossible task that the boy tried nonetheless), went to the same school as his cousin, and got the life suitable for any child.

This harry potter did not cry for his parents at night. This Harry Potter never knew suffering. This Harry Potter lived a normal life in a normal family. This Harry Potter...Lived the life that the older one had always dreamt about.

Then the boy joined Hogwarts, found that his real parents were alive and well, and then the bitterness was born. The boy met his siblings; a twin brother and two sisters, and the bitterness grew. When he was sorted in Slytherin unlike his twin, when his twin gloated about the invisibility cloak that he'd recieved, when his parents gave their empty platitudes...the bitterness grew.

This Harry Potter resented his parents, rejected their offer to live together, even rejected his siblings. He distanced himself from his biological family, and accepted what he felt was his real family; the Slytherins.

And the older Harry Potter experienced all of this. Every single thing his younger counterpart went through; the pain and jealousy, the bitterness and resentment...he experienced it all like a very detailed lucid dream.

This Harry Potter was a genius, quite like Hermoine. He placed in the top 3 spots in academics, always submitted his homework on time, had a very elegant handwriting, practiced advanced occlumency, was a natural legilimence, and strived to be the most perfect student overall. By the time his 3rd year in Hogwarts ended, the young boy was already skimming through his O. syllabus.

But while there were many things his younger counterpart was better at, there were just as many things that he absolutely sucked at. The older Harry was shocked to see that his younger counterpart was a shit tier quidditch player, as opposed to his Gryffindorish twin. The boy seemed barely able to keep himself on a broom for more than a few minutes, while his twin brother Jacob inherited the raw talent of their father.

The younger boy was also a nonce in Dueling, barely making it to top 10 of the annual dueling list in his class, even though he had advanced spell knowledge that only Hermoine could hope to rival. 3 times he had faced his twin in the Hogwarts annual dueling league, and all the three times he had lost. Hell, he'd even lost to his biggest academic rival; Hermoine, who herself wasn't that good a duelist.

And wasn't that a surprise; to see his lover becoming a bitter rival with his Slytherin counterpart. Something that he will have to quickly get used to. Or change completely.

Apart from lacking in quidditch and dueling, this Harry Potter was also a very silent boy...or perhaps awkward would be a better word. There wasn't much that could amuse the older Harry anymore, but watching his younger counterpart stumble around his words to hold a meaningful conversation with his female friend Daphne Greengrass was absolutely hilarious...and a little painful.

Harry would've thought that being raised in a normal environment would make the boy more confident, but it seems he was wrong. Because he doubted even he was this...nervous around people.

Socially awkward, he remembered the term. His younger counterpart liked the company of books rather than people, and so he kept to his own most of the times. Which was disastrous in Slytherin, a house that worked solely on connections and cunning.

Something that the boy was severely lacking in. How on Merlin's seven shades did he even make it into Slytherin was a mystery. The talking hat just gave him the same 'Slytherin will help you achieve greatness' speech and the boy leapt to accept.

Harry didn't know how long he spend in the boy's mind; experience everything in his life. There were many surprising facts that were soon revealed to him, and some really shocking twists that he wasn't ready for. One thing was certain, he was definitely not in his own world.

He breathed a sigh of relief when the memories finally melted back into the white nothingness again.

"So?" A familiar voice called out. "How did your trip down the memory lane go?"

His younger counterpart was waiting for him once again, a bittersweet expression on his face.

Harry didn't ask how the boy knew what he went through. This was his mind afterall. But he definitely was surprised to see him again, talking to Harry as if they didn't attack each other just moments prior.

Still, he wouldn't hold it against the boy. Harry was the imposter here afterall.

"Very smooth, actually." He finally answered. "You had a good life."

"Compared to you? Yes, I did." The boy admitted, before waving casually. "Indeed, just saw your life as well. I'm quite ashamed right now. Nothing hits home then realising what a whiny brat you are. I truly thought I had it tough, you know? Always felt I was right to be angry at my parents for abandoning me. Always felt justified whenever I shot down their apologies, when I felt disgusted by their begging and crying. But watching you lose everyone in your life was... painful. I hope to never experience it again. Death gives you a different perspective of life, doesn't it?"

Harry was surprised to note how open and well-spoken the boy was being. Compared to the awkward and shy kid that he'd just saw, this one seemed like a different person altogether.

Still, as silence dominated the whiteness, Harry could feel an undercurrent of tension.

"So?" He asked, anticipating another faceoff. "What's next? A fight for supremacy? May the best Harry Potter win?"

"Oh no, I cannot be bothered with that." The younger boy rapidly shook his head. "I saw what you went through. I wouldn't stand a chance, even though your spell choices are...basic at best. Really, how can my older self be so pants at magic is outside my comprehension. What, did all your talent go into that useless sport?"

Harry snorted. "Useless? You are saying one of the most highest paying profession is useless?"

"Well...it actually was useless for you though. Couldn't fly around Voldemort now can you?"

"Maybe I can this time." Harry shrugged. "Who knows. But now would you tell me what exactly should we do next?"

It felt weird, to ask the boy for guidance. But Harry had to accept that his counterpart was much more knowledge about things like this.

The boy sighed, suddenly looking way older than his age suggested. "Very well. Come here and touch me."

"That's some dodgy words right there, mate." Harry muttered, a flicker of smile twisting on his face.

If felt good to be able to joke like this again. Most of his fun in life was taken out when Hermoine died.

"Oh do get your mind out of the gutter, please." The boy scoffed. "I..uhh...I'm not very good with words. You should know that."

"Yeah, I saw that painful scene. Now, let's get this over with."

There was hesitance in their movements as they approached each other slowly. Doubts assulted Harry, wondering if his Slytherin self might betray him.

But it didn't matter in the end. Compared to the boy, he was completely clueless when it became to occlumency. If the boy wanted to betray him, there wasn't much he could really do. He was stuck in a situation that he had never planned for, and he was going in blindly. He must trust the boy if he wished to survive.

Plus he felt a strange... kinship to his younger self. After just having witnessed the boy's life in hyper-speed, Harry could confidently claim that he knew him the best. And he had no doubt that the boy felt the same about him in return.

"So, um... ready?" The boy asked uncertainly, and Harry nodded.

Then they both extended their arms, and Harry could feel a definite tension now. Like the same side of magnets were being forced against each other. They struggled for a bit, pushing against an invisible force with sheer Will...and then it happened. As if the magnets were suddenly twisted to opposite sides, their hands snapped together like one piece.

"What in Merlin's–!?"

"Hold on!"

Their hands started combining. First the body parts became smoky, then the smoke mixed with each other, before finally sucking the rest of their bodies in.

"Hold on! This is the only way!" His younger counterparts screams reached him, though he couldn't decide from where. His voice came from far far away, but Harry felt it in his soul.

And then suddenly, a pain unlike any cruciatus he'd ever felt started assaulting him out of nowhere. He felt like his skin was melting, that his bones were being ripped apart to be reconstructed, like his entire existence was changing at a focal point...

Just as quickly as it all began, it was finished too.

Everything sort of clicked in place, and the memories of his younger counterpart that he'd just seen in a lucid dream were now his own reality. He lived every single moment clearly, experienced it personally, combining both of their lives completely.

And when the pain-filled haze left him in the arms of sweet relief, Harry Potter found himself back in the body of Slytherin Harry.

Slytherin Harry...it felt weird to give yourself such a title. As far as he knew now, he was the Slytherin Harry, and he was the older Harry. Or perhaps he was neither of them, but a combination of the two.

Whatever the case, he didn't have a lot of time to ponder. Because the next moment found his world darkening as he finally let go of his tired and exhausted body. Something wet was trickling down his chin but he was just too tired to care right now.

He didn't know what the future had in store for him, but surely a little nap wouldn't hurt anyone.

---------------------------

Summer did nothing to oppose the chilly air of little Hangleton, Peter observed ruefully. His skin was drier than he would like, and his animalistic side did not like the climate. Not one bit.

It wasn't surprising of course. Rats always like the comfort and safety of warmth. Something this accursed village was won't to provide.

Let alone the room he was currently standing in.

"Come, Peter. My...mossst faithful." The dark lord hissed from the his armchair in front of a live brazier which did nothing to reduce the cold.

Peter was surprised. No Crusios? No complaining about his mortal body? No subtle insults?

It seems his lord was in a good mood today. A relief, considering the news that he'd bought to share.

Without any ado, Peter Pettigrew approached the dark lord, making sure to keep the noise of his boots to the lightest.

The dark lord did not like to be startled. And it was in one's best interest to not do anything the dark lord does not like.

He came to a stop beside the armchair, slowly getting down on one knee. "My Lord."

"You bring news, I trust?" The Lord drolled, his dry hisses sending chills down his back.

"Indeed, my lord." Peter replied with a confidence he didn't feel. "None good, I fear. Caesar Nott has rejected your summons, claiming the letter to be a trap. Malfoy hasn't even answered, his wife writing in his stead; which was...ahh, a rejection. A very harsh rejection. The only house from the inner circle to extend a helping hand are the Selwyns. But they ask for proof of your survival."

Finished with his report, he took a deep breath and got ready for the Crucio that was sure to come.

Instead, the lord threw back his head and laughed aloud. It seems the dark lord was indeed in a very good mood.

Peter's skin crawled as the high-pitched sound of a baby laughing echoed across the room. It was cold and sharp, making his skin crawl in a way no sound ever should. The cursed laugh finally came to an end as the armchair turned to face him.

"And they shall have their proof. They all will. Very soon." Lord Voldemort hissed in merriment, and Peter finally dared to look up.

There, sitting on the red chair, was a 1 year old child, smiling in a way that should be impossible for a child. Red demonic eyes stared down at the kneeling Peter, pure power radiating in them. And along with power was a twisted sense of amusement that saw the entire world as his oyster, and it's inhabitants; bugs.

"Tell me Wormtail, my little rat. How would you like to be reunited with an old friend?"

Uncertain, Peter frowned up at his master. "My Lord?"

The lord smirked down, nothing childish about his fearsome twisted face.

"It is time, Peter, to rescue my Lieutenant."

Oh. Right. Now he understood.

"I will be most pleased, My lord." Peter bowed deeply, a smile lighting his face up.

Finally. After 6 years of selfless sacrifices, Peter's job was close to finish. It had been difficult, finding a pure blood woman willing to give birth to their lord's vessel. And then doing that painful ritual to let their lord inhibit that baby without any trouble.

But it was all worth it. As long as Lord Voldemort regained his former grandeur, it will all be worth it.

And a chance to catch up with his best friend? Peter's Christmas has just come early.

Now all he had to do was wait. And follow his lord's instructions.