11

CHAPTER ELEVEN:

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Harry?" Hermione whispered, following her two friends as they made their way through the castle.

"I trust Dobby," Harry replied absently, one eye on the Marauder's Map. Suddenly he faltered, and Ron nearly ran into him.

"What is it, mate?" Ron peered at the map, trying to see what had startled his friend.

Harry stared at the space in front of the Room of Requirement. "I could have sworn-" He was sure that for just a moment, there had been a person in front of the room, a person named Harry Potter-Black. Had it just been a trick, or was there someone waiting in the Room for them?

"Dobby," he called quietly, frowning when the house elf appeared. "Is there someone waiting in the Room of Requirement for us?"

"Yes, Mr. Harry Potter sir!" the house elf squeaked. "You is to hurry, Mr. Harry Potter sir!" With that, Dobby popped away, leaving three confused students behind.

"I don't like this," Hermione said hesitantly. "Did you see someone on the map, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry said slowly, "I saw... I think it was me."

"You?" the girl squeaked, staring at him with wide eyes. "But how? It's dangerous to play with time, Harry," she said chidingly, and Harry bristled at the reproach.

"I'm going," he said curtly, heading towards the Room. Ron followed without question, tugging at Hermione's arm to get her to follow.

"If it's really a future Harry waiting for us, he's not about to hurt us, right?" he asked lowly, and Hermione shot him an exasperated look.

"That's not the issue, Ronald," she began, cutting off the rest of her rejoinder when Harry shushed them. The rest of the way they spent in silence, each thinking about the person waiting for them in the Room of Requirement.

When they opened to door to the Room, they saw a room similar to the Gryffindor common room, but in earthy tones and only four armchairs in front of a blazing fire. In the center of the chairs was a low table, and behind one of the armchairs stood...

The man turned, and they stood rooted in shock.

"Harry?" Hermione asked weakly, and the stranger smiled a crooked smile.

"Hi, Hermione," he said softly. "Why don't you come in and close the door?" he suggested, gesturing at the armchairs. "We might as well be comfortable when we talk." Suddenly he frowned. "Please tell me you used the invisibility cloak and didn't talk on your way over."

The three friends exchanged uncertain looks, stepping in to close the door. "We don't all fit under the invisibility cloak, and we checked on the map, there was no one around to hear us," Ron said, belligerence mixing with uncertainty. The stranger grimaced.

"The portraits," he said, and they blinked at him. Portraits? "The portraits report everything back to the Headmaster," the man informed them.

"Um... Why is that a problem?" Hermione asked hesitantly, and the stranger huffed.

"Well, now he'll know that you were here, and probably also knows that you were meeting me, and that means that I'll have to sit through a round of questioning when I next see him; with you he'll just pull the information straight from your minds."

"Professor Dumbledore wouldn't use Legilimency on us!" Harry said loudly, fading into uncertainty when his future self merely gave him a level look. "...Would he?"

"He does it all the time, Harry," the man said evenly. "The twinkle in his eye is usually a sign of mild Legilimency. He uses it on everyone."

The trio exchanged uncertain looks again, and the stranger sighed. "Look, how about we sit down and talk everything through properly? If I have my way, all three of you will become members of the Order; it's idiotic to keep you out of the loop when you're such important figures to the Light." Gesturing at the other three armchairs, the man walked around and sat down in the armchair to the left. Ron was the first to move, and he sat down in the middle armchair; Harry took the armchair across from the stranger, and Hermione took the one next to him.

"You're a time traveler, then?" she asked, and received a nod in response. "How?"

The man shrugged with a wry laugh. "You know how trouble finds me, Hermione," he said with a crooked smile, and she couldn't help but return it. It was true, after all – trouble always found Harry.

"You said that you wanted us to become members of the Order," Ron said suddenly, and Harry nodded. "Yeah – not like there's any way Dumbledore will let us," he muttered darkly.

"Let me deal with Albus," the older version of Harry said, steel in his voice. "I'm not suggesting you go on missions," he said then, "just that you sit in on meetings, find out what's going on, and who's doing what. Frankly, I intend to finish this war before it can get properly started, and I'm not going to send you three on dangerous missions when there are things you can do in the castle that are just as important."

"Such as?" Harry asked warily. He had been ready to go on a rant about being treated like a little kid when the man said no missions, but it didn't sound like he planned on coddling them, either.

"The DA is a great idea," he gave Hermione a warm smile, "but it could be taken further. You may not believe me when I say this, but it would be a good idea to include the Slytherins." The expected uproar came, most vocally from the two boys, but even Hermione was sitting with a frown marring her face.

"Now, let me explain that. I learned nearly two years from now that quite a few of the Slytherins are under compulsion spells." Hermione gasped, but the boys just looked confused, and not placated in the least.

"You don't mean-?"

"Yes, Hermione – many of the Slytherins are under spells that force them to hate Muggleborns and Gryffindors, and some of them have spells that make them think they're superior to others. Malfoy is a git even without the spells, but at least he's an honest git," he smirked. "Severus, too – you know him as Professor Snape – was under a great deal of spells. He removed them when I pointed them out to him, but he will still be acting the same, since he's a spy."

"Snape's a bastard," Harry snarled, and future Harry just laughed.

"He just doesn't suffer fools gladly," he grinned, "but he's also a great man. With all the spells he was under, it's no surprise that he turned to the Death Eaters. What is amazing, and deserving your respect, is that he managed to turn to the Light and become a spy even under the influence of those spells. That he managed to save your life," he gestured at Harry, "repeatedly, even though he had several spells on him forcing him to hate you. Our mother was his best friend, you know?"

All three kids gaped at him, and he blinked. "Oh, right – I didn't find out about that until later."

"My Mum was SNAPE's best friend?" Harry looked almost ready to vomit. Future Harry sighed.

"Yes, Lily Evans was his best friend since before Hogwarts. They lived in the same neighborhood growing up, and managed to remain friends even though one was sorted into Gryffindor and the other into Slytherin. When you were born," he gestured at Harry, "Severus swore to protect you with his life should anything happen to her. We all know what happened soon after that," he said, his face perfectly blank.

"But – Snape?!"

"Yes, Harry," the man said, a faint note of exasperation creeping into his voice. "You don't know him – all you know is the role he was forced to play. Believe me, once this war is over you'll meet the true Severus Snape, and you'll understand how Lily Evans could be his best friend."

"You were friends in the future, then?" Hermione asked thoughtfully.

"Well," future Harry temporized, "not so much friends as... partners. We were the joint leaders of the Order after the Headmaster's death," he ignored their reactions to that revelation, "and we came to respect each other very much. He has a great sense of humor when you get to know him," he grinned.

"Wait, Professor Dumbledore dies?" Ron exclaimed.

Future Harry pinned him with a level gaze. "Do you know how old the man is, Ron?"

Ron hesitated, and Hermione got there first. "Professor Dumbledore is 120 years old," she answered promptly, and the man inclined his head.

"Is it then so surprising that the man should die? Especially in the middle of a war?"

"I suppose not," Ron muttered, though he still looked taken aback at the knowledge that their Headmaster was mortal.

"How did he die?" Harry asked quietly, looking more vulnerable than the other two had seen him in a long time. Future Harry just brushed the question aside, however.

"It doesn't matter; I don't intend to let him die the same way this time. I don't think he's very long for this world anyway, though," he said, his face not betraying how he felt about that.

"You're not very fond of Professor Dumbledore, are you?" Hermione asked, her gaze intent on him. To her surprise, the man laughed.

"You always were far too clever, Hermione," he said with a grin. "No, I'm not particularly fond of the Headmaster. Too many people died last time because of his inaction; I'm going to ensure that it doesn't happen this time around." The fierce look in his eyes unsettled Hermione, but she tried not to let it show on her face. This Harry was... hard. Where her Harry was friendly and open, this man was somewhat scary in his intensity.

"Did we die?" she asked softly, wondering whether that was why he was so hard. His face gave her all the answer she needed, and she dropped her gaze.

"I'm sorry," the man said, and they couldn't place the emotion he tried to keep out of his voice. Hermione looked up to find his eyes on her, and the way he was looking at her without seeming to see her had her reacting before she knew what she was doing. "We're safe now," she told him, sitting on his lap and folding him into her arms. His arms came up around her, and she felt a tremor run through his body, but if he was crying then he was doing it silently. Hesitantly she stroked his head, and he tightened his hold on her, as though assuring himself that she really was there.

Meanwhile, the two boys were communicating silently about the strange man. It was obvious that Hermione accepted him as an older version of Harry, but Harry didn't know how to feel about the man. They seemed so different. Ron shrugged; if there really was a war, then Harry would be in the middle of it, and he figured that that would change anyone. Harry glared back: It seemed like this future version wanted to keep them out of it entirely, and he wanted to DO something, damnit! Ron gave him an intent look, asking him whether he really wanted to be the leader of the Order, whether he wanted to kill people. Harry paled slightly and looked away sullenly. Seeing how his future self was clinging to Hermione, he realized that it wasn't all fun and games, and that his friends could die if he didn't man up. Straightening, he looked back at Ron and nodded slightly; his friend was right, of course. Ron touched his head, and Harry nodded. They would have to learn to protect their minds. Frowning, Harry mimed a beard, asking his friend how he felt about Dumbledore. Ron looked unsure and shrugged with one shoulder. He tipped his head in future Harry's direction, and Harry nodded. They would have to ask his future self about Dumbledore. They had the feeling that he was not just 'not very fond' of the Headmaster, and felt like the Professor must have done something that future Harry objected to.

Suddenly Harry's eyes widened. It couldn't be – the spells future Harry had said were on the Slytherins, who had cast those? He couldn't help but feel that there was a link between the Headmaster and the Slytherins. Then he paled, Ron shooting him a worried look. "He cast spells on us, didn't he," Harry said, and it was more statement than question. He couldn't see future Harry very well behind Hermione, but her words confirmed it for him.

"You stiffened," she said with false calm. "Harry's right, isn't he?"

Silence.

"What spells did he cast on us?" Harry demanded. "Spells for us to hate Slytherins?" He exchanged a look with Ron. What else?

"My restraint," Hermione said suddenly. "He hid that away, didn't he? I never threw myself into schoolwork so much before Hogwarts."

"My Slytherin side," Harry said, full of certainty. "The Sorting Hat wanted to sort me into Slytherin, and only didn't because I begged it to put me anywhere but there. That was Dumbledore's doing, wasn't it?" He quivered with suppressed anger. "And now I'm the perfect Gryffindor. Where did my Slytherin tendencies go?"

"My loyalty," Ron said quietly. "It comes and goes. Remember the Triwizard Tournament?" Oh yes, Harry remembered that all too well, and he shot his friend a forgiving look. It would explain a lot, if someone was meddling with their personalities.

"But why?" Hermione sounded lost. "Why would the Headmaster try to change us?"

"Let's get together with Snape and give him Veritaserum," Ron snorted. "You don't know why he did it, do you?"

"He shook his head," Hermione said. "Veritaserum sounds good to me. Harry, what else has he done to us?"

"Fealty potions," they heard his muffled voice.

"Keyed to Dumbledore," Harry growled. "You didn't want us to know, did you?"

"He shook his head again. Why not?" Low words that the boys couldn't make out, then – "Ah. He feared that we'd want to kill him."

The boys exchanged a wide-eyed look. "That's why you don't think Dumbledore will live for long; you'll kill him."

"Dursleys," they heard, and "Love potion keyed to Ginny. Sirius dead. Mind rape by Severus. Triwizard Tournament, Basilisk, Quirrel, Umbridge. Prophecy, dead parents, Sirius in Azkaban. Everything Dumbledore's fault."

"Oh Merlin, it all makes sense," Ron breathed. "But let's get the truth out of him before you kill him, yeah?"

"I can't believe we're talking so calmly about murdering our Headmaster," Hermione said weakly. "Shouldn't we have him arrested instead? Let everyone know the truth?"

"Let's not decide yet," future Harry said, finally loosening his hold on Hermione and giving her an apologetic smile. "Snake Face is the bigger threat at the moment; Dumbledore can wait." He pulled out his wand and waved it over Hermione, who gasped. "Those were the spells; I've lifted them. The potion will have to wear off on its own, and that won't happen while Dumbledore continues to add it to all the food, but that may be for the best." He waved his wand at Ron as he continued, "You will have to act the same around the Headmaster; Harry, I trust you to put your Slytherin side to use." One last wave, and the man put away his wand again. "He's dangerous," he said, meeting each of their eyes in turn. "I don't know his motivation, and that unsettles me. He's unpredictable. Don't take any chances. Don't discuss anything where there are portraits. If you're going somewhere and don't want Dumbledore to know, use the invisibility cloak. If it's missing, call for Dobby – I'll have to borrow it a few times, and he can fetch it for you if I'm not using it. Harry," he met his counterpart's eyes, "we will need to go to Gringotts together and get you emancipated. You'll be able to access all of the Potter vaults, and you'll never have to go back to the Dursleys. The blood wards were a lie anyway," he grimaced.

"If you need help, talk to Remus, Severus or me – we don't have the spells anymore, and have strong enough shields that Dumbledore can't see into our minds. Sirius, I'm afraid, is too unpredictable to take the spells off of; I think he'd go ahead and try to kill Dumbledore, and he wouldn't stand a chance." Gently pushing Hermione off his lap, he stood. "Let me teach you a spell to hide this conversation, and then you three will have to come up with something to take its place so that when Dumbledore looks he thinks you were doing that. Plan the next DA meeting, or duel or something; when you go back to Gryffindor Tower you should use the cloak, or have Dobby pop you over. He's bound to me now – he's trustworthy." At Hermione's look he laughed. "Don't worry, I'm paying him and he has one day off a month. He's not a slave, though we will have to have a more in depth conversation later, preferably with a regular house elf present. Dobby is rather an oddity," he said fondly.

"Now then, the spell..."