(i) Virtus Who?

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All rights are reserved to JK Rowling and Warner Bros.

Harry Potter And The Veil Of Life — A collaborative effort between Arian Sider and Samuel Dawn.

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Chapter I

Virtus Who?

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It was yet another remarkably unremarkable day at the Dursley household. Vernon, the oversized patriarch of the house was sat silently in the living area, relishing some tea whilst reading a newspaper. His wife Petunia, was in the kitchen, cooking some eggs, humming a tune that could be made out to be a particular song by the well-known band, the Beatles. Their son was sitting in the dining, exceedingly waiting for his mommy dearest to bring him the thing that he desired the most in the world, food.

Harry Potter certainly had a dislike for a lot of things. Voldemort, tart, Malfoy, the magical history class, were to name a few in descending order. But one thing he hated even more than Voldemort was and he was sure would be, the Dursleys.

The Dursleys were the epitome of hypocrisy, they themselves preached the gospel of normalcy, whilst beating down on anyone else that possessed a 'threat' to the said normalcy; not even batting an eye to the definition of the normalcy of others. Harry was often the victim of the beating, as he crossed every single item in their 'Not-Normal List'.

First thing was the most obvious one, he was not their son. To them, he was not part of the so-called family and just an orphan that they had the displeasure of homing. If it wasn't given away by their blatant verbal abuse, the constant abundance of chores enforced on him was a clear giveaway.

Second was... well, less obvious. Even Harry had to admit that his life and he himself were far from normal. The fact that he was a student at the prestigious, Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, would be the most glaring sign. He was a wizard, and was capable of doing a thing that most, muggles - non-magic people - desired the most, magic. And magic for one thing was as far as you could go from normalcy.

But again, wouldn't magic be the status quo for people born surrounded by magic, for purebloods. Draco Malfoy would be an example, the way he considered magic, and inheritably purebloods superior, all whilst looking down on muggles and muggleborns was not much different from the Dursleys' mindset.

Harry sighed, as he often did these days. He'd had enough of the word 'normal' for one day. And he did want to have something to think about while not doing chores, as there was much time to fill till the start of his 4th year. Homework for one wasn't the most appetising thing for him.

-Ø-

Harry was growing restless now. The Dursleys had not called all morning for anything, obviously he was not sad that he was not getting plummeted by chores first thing in the morning. But growing up in this hellhole had taught him one thing, silence was always followed by a storm.

As if reading his mind, a loud shout of one Mr Dursley came from downstairs, calling the boy to clean the dishes. Harry shot off his bed quickly and was making his way with frantic footsteps now.

That was until his bare foot slipped at the perfect opportunity to cause him the most pain. He was now falling down the stairs with loud thuds. At the end with a scream he saw his trunk, carefully placed at the end of the staircase. And then, everything blacked out.

-Ø-

Harry woke up feeling oddly comfortable. This was weird as his so called 'bed' at the Dursleys couldn't be more than a hard tack of wood with some sheets dropped on them. And he was quite sure that he wasn't at Hogwarts, he knew how the mattresses felt there. If he had to put the comfort he was feeling right now on the scale of Dursleys to Hogwarts, he would probably put it well above Hogwarts.

Eh, enough thinking about the comfort of the mattress, Harry thought. He had to figure out where he was. Slowly opening his eyes, he was met with a very bright red and gold ceiling. Hm, that's strangely gryffindor-ish, he thought. As he was about to sit up, two hand grabbed his shoulders gently and pushed him back to his back.

"Harry dear! You are finally awake! We were getting worried there." said the owner of said hands.

Startled he forcefully shot up despite the protesting hands. He looked in front of him for the owner of the hands. All he saw was a blurred woman, but that was enough to make out who she was.

"A-Aunt Petunia?" nervousness was resounding in his words.

"Yes dear," she replied, "Don't speak so much right now, you need a bit over an hour's rest. I have administered you the potion but it wouldn't be much help if you were to be so restless!"

Wait what? Potion? What the hell was happening!? The woman in front of him was clearly his aunt Petunia. But when did she start talking with such serenity! and potions? No, this clearly wasn't her. He reached out to the table next to the bed he was rested on, for his glasses, but was having a hard time doing so.

"Oh, sorry dear I didn't realize. Here you go, your glasses." the woman said gently before handing Harry his glasses.

Harry hesitantly took the glasses and put them on. He was in a large furnitured room, with numerous books, posters, and clothes, the room looked lived in. But he didn't have time to observe the room, not for now at least, there was a much more concerning thing in front of him.

Adjusting his vision, he looked in front of him. The woman looked a great deal similar to the aunt Petunia he knew, 'similar' being the keyword here.

First thing, she wasn't as thin as the aunt he knew. And there was this sort of… glow, that would seem almost foreign on the face of the aunt Petunia he knew.

"Is something the matter Harry dear? Are you feeling alright?" Petunia asked

"I-I don't understand. Potions? But you hate magic! A-and your fac-"

"What do you mean dear? Hate magic? If anything I love magic! Where did you get su— Oh Merlin, this can't be happening! Harry dear, be a good sport and lay down while I get Virtus alright?" Petunia said and headed out of the room without taking any answers from Harry.

"Virtus who?" Harry muttered, still baffled by the whole ordeal.

He was really having a hard time grasping his current situation. His aunt apparently was looking way healthier than how she was looking yesterday night while scolding him. And where exactly was he? The room he was currently in, did not resemble even an ounce of pivet drive. And from when did aunt Petunia became tolerant of potions?! And who the hell was Virtus?! Where was Vernon?

Fuck! He needed to calm down. He should know better, freaking out doesn't get anyone anywhere. First and foremost, where was he? As he observed earlier, this room certainly belonged to a magical family, surely. A muggle family wouldn't have quidditch supplies dotted around. Another thing was the very flashy and big gryffindor poster on the wall which further cemented his notion.

So, now whose house exactly was this? Magic often exceeded his expectations in the department of weird, but all of this was very beyond what he had experienced so far.

Realising that just sitting on the bed won't get him anywhere and that aunt Petunia was taking her time, Harry shakingly stood up and started to look around.

He walked up to some smaller photos that were hung on the wall. At least that will give him some idea as to who the room belonged to. As he walked closer his face paled in realisation.

The moving photo contained two boys, one's head was covered by a messy top of familiar raven hair and the other's was distinctly blonde. It was he himself - though he looked a lot healthier - and none other than the person he harbored enough hate to fill the entirety of black lake. It was, Draco-head-stuck-in-the-arse-Malfoy.

Merlin's beard! What in the bloody hell was going on here! He and Draco couldn't stand each other while walking in the hallways, how were they standing smiling shoulder on shoulder? Forget that! He didn't even remember taking the bloody picture!

Harry rapidly looked at the other photos that had littered the room with growing restlessness. All the photos either showed him with an unfamiliar bunch of students that he was vaguely familiar with. The persistent one was Malfoy, he was in every single photo sticking up to him with great familiarity.

A single photo however, struck out. It was a photo of him with, aunt Petunia, another woman who was great deal more attractive than the former and has very dark black hair, another was a very tall man, who had affectionately put his arm around aunt Petunia.

Harry was simply speechless. He seriously needed to process all of this. How was all of this possible? Was this some sort of mind game that Voldemort was playing on him? But it seemed too vivid to be just in his mind!

Then a sudden burst of realisation hit him.

Wait, it couldn't be possible. But it all pointed towards it! He had once or twice seen it in a show on the telly.

He somehow had traveled to an alternate universe.

If it was an alternate universe, then all of this bizarre situation would make sense. But he had never heard of such a thing happening, not even in the magical world.

The sound of the wooden floor creaking snapped him out of his thoughts. Shit, they were coming back. He left out a big sigh, it didn't matter how he had gotten, wherever he was, he would figure it out, eventually. There was no apparent immediate danger, so he could at least relax for the slightest bit.

"Harry! What are you doing out of your bed? I told you to rest, you never listen do you?" Petunia shouted.

"Yes Harry, if you will please go to your bed and rest. The wound still requires some healing." An unknown voice said.

Harry looked at the arrived pair. It was aunt Petunia and the tall man he saw in the photo.

"W-who are you?" Harry asked the man. There was no beating around the bush here. He was not aware of the man, and he wouldn't get anywhere if didn't ask. The stutter in his voice was unintentional though.

"Oh Merlin. You were right love, it seems the worst has happened," the man muttered to aunt Pentunia, "Harry, you remember your aunt here right?

"Yes, she is aunt Petunia." Harry simply answered.

"That would make things easier," a sigh escaped his mouth, "Well let's jog your memory yes?" Harry didn't say anything, Virtus then offered Harry a handshake, "Hello Harry, I am your uncle, and Petunia's husband, Virtus Reson, I am a healer at St. Mungo's and I am currently taking care of you after you had gotten into, quite a messy accident I must say."

"...What?"