Chapter 337: Conflicting Doubles

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29 October 1995, London (Earth 2)

In front of him was an almost exact version of himself staring back at him impatiently. However, what drew Harry the most was the distinct lack of scar on the boy's forehead. He couldn't help but exclaim, "What the fuck?"

Harrold seemed annoyed for a fraction of a second before sighing, "Look, Sirius, why don't you clue him in? I need to finish up my preparations."

"Fine, but the three of us will have a proper conversation after we're done."

After giving him a faint nod, the other boy left, leaving Harry with his godfather. He would admit to still being flabbergasted by what he just saw, "Padfoot, what the hell is going on? What is this place?"

"This is a nice little house in London that we warded. We've been using it as our headquarters since Grimmauld Place is under a Fidelius and Harrold can't get in. As for the whole situation, he's not lying. It's pretty complicated and I admit that I don't really understand how it happened. Harrold tried to explain it, but I could barely keep up for the first couple of sentences, I was completely lost afterwards. But he's telling the truth in full. He really is you, just a different version."

"A different version?"

The dog Animagus grinned, "A different universe where things are different. He wants to go home. He's planning a ritual to do that on Halloween and he needs to kill Voldemort for that to work. I know it sounds far-fetched, but it is the complete truth."

"And he's angry because I won't go through with it? That he'll be stuck here."

"No, he's angry because he will die if he stays here for so much. To be fair, he wasn't exactly gentle with it. He's been a bit stressed the closer we got to Halloween. He's put a lot of effort into this, months, really and he's more than a little nervous. It took me a little while to understand him and he's not really good with people and he doesn't like not knowing things. He put so much effort into his plan to go home and he's pretty frustrated that it all hinges on someone else's decision."

He could sort of understand why Harrold was so brusque with him if it was all true. However, Harry couldn't help but wonder if the boy who he befriended at Hogwarts was nothing more than a mask to get him to make this decision, "Are you sure he's not pulling your chain, Sirius? He could be a Metamorphmagus like Tonks or even use Polyjuice to look like me. His story is a bit far-fetched, and that's downplaying it."

Sirius shook his head, "I wish he was. It would have been a lot simpler. Unfortunately, he knew things that no one else did, things about my dead brother. He also proved to me that what he said about how Voldemort survived wasn't wrong. He literally destroyed a part of Voldemort's soul in front of me. I was pretty convinced after seeing that."

"There are other objects that are like my scar?" Harry yelled his heart beating heavily.

"Yes. He didn't tell you about that. There are seven, including your scar. You destroyed one of them in your second year, a diary, I think. We've been hunting the others. There are two left, your scar and Voldemort's snake. We have the snake covered, the only issue we have is your scar."

"So, he wasn't lying."

"No, he wasn't," Sirius answered solemnly, "To be honest, I've been having doubts since you can apparently see through Voldemort's eyes sometimes. That's not normal. I didn't know what the hell it was, but a partial possession, connected to another soul could be possible. I'm not exactly an expert in soul magic, but it does make a lot of sense."

"So, he was right. For Voldemort to become mortal, I have to die first."

Harrold's familiar voice retorted from behind him, "No, that's exactly the point of me telling you. I'm literally giving you a way out, the only way out, really. The main point is for you not to die."

Sirius commented, "Something that you could have said something about. Seriously, Harrold? You want him to tank a fucking killing curse."

"A heavily weakened one, yes. I can't exactly whip up a ritual out of nowhere to remove it. I'm not a miracle worker. And it wasn't like this was my main plan. It depended on what I could find when studying the scar. Thankfully, the soul-shard wasn't as well-integrated as the one in the snake but it's not as spotty as I'd like it to be, not enough for me to easily try to separate the two without killing you. Ironically, the killing curse is the safest option in the bunch. If I can weaken the spell significantly, you could theoretically survive it. It'll depend on your will mostly."

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing, especially that Sirius was nodding. He turned towards his godfather outraged and yelled out, "You're seriously thinking about this? He's talking about me being hit with a killing curse."

"For fuck's sake, man. What's wrong with you? I'm giving you everything you want on a silver platter. I'm giving you a world without Voldemort or Grindelwald, and where Dumbledore won't interfere in your life. You'll be free to do what you want and live how you want. If this works, you won't have to go to the Dursleys again. You could just stay with Sirius, actually, live with him after the ministry clears his name."

"Clears his name…" Harry mumbled. What was he talking about?

Sirius gave him a wide smile, "We have Wormtail. Harrold gave him to me as a goodbye present. After Voldemort is dead, we can give him to the DMLE to clear my name. I'll be free, Harry."

That struck Harry speechless. He stared at Sirius, trying to process the enormity of what he just heard. Wormtail—Peter Pettigrew—was alive and in their hands? The man who had betrayed his parents, the real reason Sirius had been locked up all these years, could finally face justice. It seemed too good to be true, like a dream Harry had wished for but never dared to believe in.

"You—you mean it?" Harry stammered, his throat suddenly tight. "You really have him?"

Harrold nodded this time and spoke up, "Yes. I found him while on a mission in Malfoy Manor. I decided to take the opportunity in front of me and it worked. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. I broke into Gringotts and Malfoy Manor, fought undead snakes, and inferi. There was even a dragon protecting the vault in Gringotts. I got the ministry to be so distracted with Umbridge being arrested and Fudge running around worried about Grindelwald coming for them when the man is dead. When was the last time you saw a bad article written about you in the Daily Prophet? I handled most of the heavy work for you. All I'm asking is for you to be brave, to let the man hit you with a simple spell. All I'm asking is for you to trust me enough that the plan will work, that the thing in your scar will be gone. Can you imagine Voldemort being finally gone from your life forever, in just a few days? No more attacks every year. No more bad dreams. No more burning scars. Just Harry. Isn't that nice?"

It did sound awfully nice. But something about it gnawed at Harry. Everything Harrold was saying—the infiltrations, the battles, the manipulation of the Ministry and the media—it was incredible, almost too incredible. And that's what made him hesitate. Could he really trust this plan? Could he trust Harrold? The idea of Voldemort being gone, truly gone, without a trace, was like a weight, lifting from his chest, but the mention of the killing curse… the soul-shard… it made him uneasy. He couldn't help but shiver every time he remembered that sickly bright green light.

Sirius put his hand on his shoulder reassuringly, "How risky is it?"

"It's more likely than not that he would survive and believe me, those odds are very much in his favour, especially compared to your odds if he actually ends up fighting a war against Voldemort. The thing is that he'll need to choose to return to the living, and not stay dead. It's his willpower that will decide whether he lives or dies. It will depend entirely on him, nothing more. There's a reason why I arranged for everything to go well for him. I built him a life worth coming back to. He'll have you, his friends, his family, and no dark lord threatening them. He could just enjoy his years in school, date a few nice girls and actually live. It's also why I decided to tell him about it. Choosing to sacrifice himself to kill Voldemort, the very risk he's knowingly taking, makes it far more likely that he survives."

Harry didn't look convinced, but the other boy continued, "You're going to have to get rid of the Horcrux eventually and those are the best odds you'll ever have of living past it."

"You could be lying," Harry protested weakly.

However, instead of replying, trying to convince him again, Harrold put his wand to his temple, like Dumbledore did when he used his Pensieve and waved his wand. Immediately, their surroundings morphed into the familiar office of Severus Snape, where a pained Dumbledore was being treated by the potion master who was also arguing with Harrold. He could hear his housemate's voice like a faint echo, "And what right did Dumbledore have when he meddled in Harry Potter's life? What right did he have when he left him with those horrible people, where he was treated like trash? What right did he have when he raised him as a lamb for slaughter, a martyr that would die at the proper moment?"

Dumbledore's voice was slightly harsh and resolute, something that Harry never heard before, "It was the best out of far more horrible options. I had no choice but to do that. I didn't want to, but the boy must die either way. The prophecy says so, and you see yourself what his scar is. My choices, as difficult as they were, always were made with the greater good of the magical world in mind. It is my burden because no one else wants to do it."

The illusion stopped and faded away into nothing, yet Harry remained frozen. He could not put into words just how betrayed he felt. His chest tightened as the weight of those words sank in—the boy must die. Dumbledore, the man Harry had trusted, who had guided him through everything, had planned for him to die all along. He wasn't meant to defeat Voldemort, just to be another sacrifice in the war. Harry's throat felt dry, and his hands trembled slightly. He had known Dumbledore kept secrets, but this? It was worse than anything he could have imagined.

Sirius looked absolutely furious and he kept cursing up a storm until he transformed into his dog form. He quickly ran out of the house and Harry could hear his angry howling in the middle of the night. His godfather hadn't come back completely from Azkaban and sometimes it was easier to process his emotions as Padfoot than it was as Sirius Black. Harry couldn't blame him. He wanted to turn into an animal and howl angrily at the world and his headmaster's betrayal.

Meanwhile, Harrold watched him closely, his face impassive but his eyes sharp, as if waiting for the realization to fully settle. "You see?" he said quietly. "This is your other choice, which would be trusting Albus Dumbledore, a man who obviously never had your best interests at heart. I'll admit that my motives are selfish, but I've been nothing but upfront about everything. I'm your only shot at living a full life."

"You're asking me to gamble everything," Harry muttered, his voice hollow, the weight of the decision crushing him.

Harrold stepped closer, his voice calm, almost coaxing. "I'm asking you to take control. For once, to choose your own fate. No prophecies. No martyrdom. Just Harry, alive and free."

Harry clenched his fists, feeling the heat rise in his chest, but not from anger. From fear. From hope. From the possibility that he might actually survive this nightmare.

"You don't have to decide right now," Harrold added, his tone softening. "But time's running out. Voldemort's not going to wait, and neither will Dumbledore's plan."

Harry's mind screamed in a dozen different directions. His heart pounded in his ears. Could he do it? Could he trust Harrold and defy the path that had been laid out for him?

"I need to think," Harry whispered, voice barely audible.

Harrold nodded. "Just don't take too long, Harry. The war waits for no one. Now, I believe you should catch up a bit with Sirius, when he comes back, at least. You probably have a lot to talk about. I'll take you back to the castle later. Just give me an answer by tomorrow."

And he did just that, the following day. As he entered the Great Hall and watched Dumbledore's empty seat, he couldn't help but decide to take the gamble. He walked up to Harrold and spoke up, "I'm in. You were right, I can't keep running anymore."

Harrold nodded, looking visibly relieved, "I'm glad to hear that. The plan should go through tomorrow. You've made the right choice, Harry."

"Out of curiosity, what would you have done if I hadn't said yes?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

"Get some rest, Harry. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

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AN: I hope you like this one. I tried to make it fit with the last chapter and made Harry a bit more manipulative and not as direct as he was before. At first, the idea was that he was frustrated with his counterpart being involved at all since he considers him to be reckless and a liability in a precise plan, hence the way he was acting. I changed the ending a bit in the previous chapter to fit it better, but I don't know if it all came out like I wanted it to. I'm a bit unsure to be completely honest. Anyway, this is also the last chapter before Harry's plan unfolds, so you should see the confrontation with Voldemort. I'm really excited about that part. As usual, please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.

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I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions of them so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.

Thank you guys for your support in these hard times.