You think you know someone

 Albus considered himself absolutely lucky that he time traveled in a different dimension rather than in his own because otherwise, a paradox could have been made, and he would have utterly, irrefutably ruined everything. 

 After he realized the inevitable change he created, he rushed to Dumbledore’s office as soon as he could. He didn’t even know the password, he just yelled random candy names before the statue moved. He couldn’t have cared less about his feelings toward the man, he needed guidance, and Albus knew the Headmaster was the only one who could provide it, because Snape surely wasn’t. Gosh, I miss Scorpius so bloody much!

 Albus was also extremely lucky that he was able to find Dumbledore in the office when he did. The old man had been busy with paperwork when Albus barged in without an invitation. His blue eyes widened in surprise behind his half-moon spectacles as he hastily greeted.

 “Albus! To what do I owe—”

 “I ruined everything.” The tears that had threatened to cloud his vision started raining down across his cheeks. “I’m such an idiot. I was just trying my best to help, but it feels like everything I try just makes things worse. I should’ve known better than to try. I’ve always ruined everything I touch. Bloody idiot am I. When will I bloody learn to let things be. I ruined everything—I’ve. . . I—”

 Just like he ruined his relationship with his dad. Not the one here that seemed to detest him for simply existing, but his real dad. The one that was always trying to make things right with him. If only Albus had been a better son and didn’t ruin everything, maybe then this Harry wouldn’t hate him too.

 He broke down sobbing at the Headmaster’s office.

 He’s a bloody idiot. No wonder dad sometimes wished to not have him as a son.

 “Albus, breath.” He felt a gentle touch to his shoulder. He tried breathing deeply through his nose to calm himself, but it was to no avail. “Here, have a seat, and we shall talk.”

 Albus let Dumbledore help settle him down on a comfortable cushion.

 After a while of making a fool of himself in front of one of the supposedly greatest wizards of all time, Albus composed himself before saying, “I might’ve prevented myself—er, my counterpart, that is—and his siblings from ever existing here.”

“I was able to guess that much.” Dumbledore said thoughtfully. 

 “You seem awfully calm?” He’s awfully calm about lots of things.

 But that ought to be a good sign, right? If Dumbledore thought this wasn’t a big deal, then it wasn’t. But that did little to ease his thoughts at the moment, he still wasn’t sure if he could trust the old man, so he needed more information. He wanted to understand why Dumbledore wasn’t freaking out like he ought to.

 Dumbledore conjured a tea tray. “Before we get into this, would you like a cuppa?”

 Albus warily accepted the offer. A sense of déjà vu struck him for this felt eerily like a repetition of their first time ever meeting.

 “Do you remember how you spent your first months here during the summer besides studying? I recall you digging through old Daily Prophets and most recent ones to compare them with what you know of your history and see how similar our worlds are?”

 Albus nodded.

“If I recall correctly. . . you pointed out to me that although every important event in both universes was the same, there were some ‘unimportant differences’ as you called them. You told me in your world, Hogwarts: A History records my counterpart becoming Headmaster right after he defeated Grindelwald, whereas I became Headmaster about a couple of months after Grindelwald’s downfall, and the rest is history.”

 Albus set his cup down with a  frowned. “Well yeah, I didn’t think these kinds of differences are significant because pretty much everything after stayed the same. You, becoming a Headmaster later than you did in my world didn’t change the bigger picture. You’re still a Headmaster, and Voldemort still somehow cursed the Defense Against the Dark Arts job for as long as his soul lived. . ."

 “The fact remains, our worlds may be similar, yes, but they are in no way identical.” Dumbledore said. “There can be no such thing.”

 “I get that—I really do—but that kind of change happened long before I came here, I had nothing to do with it!” Albus stressed. “My parents possibly not ending up together is my doing. I’m the reason my siblings will never exist!”

 “They do exist Albus, in your world. Just because you might have prevented that here, doesn’t mean it will affect their counterparts.” Dumbledore assured him.

 Albus didn’t feel reassured. He knew his real siblings were fine, but that didn’t make grieving for the ones he lost here any less real. He as good as killed them, after all.

 “As I said, while it is true that the timelines of our worlds are fairly close in all the ways that counts, it is in no way completely identical. I believe no universe truly has a mirror of its own.” Dumbledore said, when Albus wanted to interject, he raised a palm to stop him. “I am not all knowledgeable on the matter of space travel, Albus, but I know for sure that whatever changes you believe to have caused isn’t going to end lives because the lives you’re worried for didn’t exist for them to end.”

 Albus couldn’t disagree more, but kept his mouth shut.

 “Most of what I know regarding your situation, Albus, is barrowed knowledge from an Unspeakable who specializes in this area.” Dumbledore said. “I have a friend working in the Department of Mysteries that, unfortunately, has no current access to the veil of which caused all this mess—rest assured, they have no idea of your true identity, I do not trust them to keep this hidden from other Unspeakables. As you know, the ministry is slowly getting corrupt, so it is difficult to know who to trust these days.”

 Albus made a huffed sound that could barely be passed on as a laugh. He always assumed Dumbledore was naturally the most knowledgeable wizard to ever exist, he didn’t realize until now how strange it was that Dumbledore simply knew those secrets of the universes without having access to another source. Albus just naively assumed that Dumbledore was the only reliable source. Even after Albus learned of this man’s tendencies to manipulate others, still his mind still couldn’t comprehend that Dumbledore was just human and didn’t possess the knowledge of all things.

 Dumbledore let out a chuckle under his breath as though he had recalled something amusing. “I have to admit, when you first made an appearance in the Department of Mysteries, I naturally thought you were Harry’s counterpart from the moment I saw you. I got so very worried about the possible chaos that in itself could create that I have acted rashly. I modified everyone’s memories in the hope that I’d be able to send you back where you came from within a month's time before your presence alone would create a collision to both our worlds.”

 “Er. . . what?” Why was this the first time he heard about this? A collision between worlds? That didn’t sound good.

“When two universes collide—think of planets for a moment, will you? If two of them were to crash into one another, then they would both be destroyed, and after several million years, new planets would take their places using the scraps that each of the destroyed planets have left behind.” Dumbledore explained. “Now, the same can be said about universes, except it is believed that the prosses of creating a new universe is much faster; it happens immediately once the two universes are demised. Whatever survives of the collision from both sides would immediately merge to create one stable universe to replace the two ones that failed.”

 “Okay.” Albus said shakily, digesting this. “Y-you think me being here will make that happen?” Forget about interfering in this timeline too much, his presence alone might be what brings the downfall of not one but two universes! This one and his own home. He really did ruin everything.

 Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled as though he could see right through him. “My boy, you’ve done nothing wrong, and there’s no reason to panic.”

 The ‘yet’ was left unsaid, but Albus knew that it was there. Knew there had to be consequences for him being here.

 Dumbledore paused before continuing slowly. “Albus. . . have you noticed unusual phenomena occurring since you came here? Anything that could be indicating that our universes might be colliding in any way?”

 Albus was confused. “This will go a lot faster if you just get to the point instead of having me guess, sir.”

 “My point, Albus, is that the only way for that theory to become a reality is if two entities of the same being were to coexist in the same universe. If they were to continue to live that way, the fabric of both universes would start shredding. It might take days, weeks, or even a couple of months before the collision will inevitably happen and all shall perish.” Dumbledore said aloofly. “That is why I have panicked at first when my friend from the Department of Mysteries mention another Harry Potter coming through the veil.”

 “And the collision? The process hasn’t happened yet?” Albus asked, lost in his own mind’s webs of tangled thoughts.

 Instead of answering, Dumbledore stared at him amusedly.

 “Is the collision going to happen anytime soon?” Albus urged, beginning to find the Headmaster’s unbothered demeanor widely irksome.

 Dumbledore shook his head. “You are not Harry’s counterpart, Albus.” He drawled.

 “Oh,” It finally sunk in that there was no actual threat. Albus flushed. “right, I’m not.”

 “We know that, but everyone else doesn’t, including the people at the ministry.” Dumbledore refilled their cups.

 “Wait!” Albus’ eyes widened when he realized something. “If people at the ministry think I’m Harry’s counterpart, doesn’t that mean the Unspeakables think the collision would be happening any day now?”

 “Ah, yes, they are quite too busy trying to figure out why the collision isn’t occurring yet now that the Department of Mysteries are naturally aware of your presence. If you’ve been here since June, the collision should have happened back in August if not sooner.” Dumbledore smirked. “Unravelling that kind of mystery ought to leave the Unspeakables distracted from ever considering you’re a potential time traveler. As long as no one finds out your Harry Potter’s dimension traveling son, the subject of time will remain irrelevant to them.”

 This. . . was a lot to process. Apparently, every visit Albus made to Dumbledore’s ended up like that. Here he was, worried about ruining the timeline of this universe when it was supposedly never a problem in the first place because it shouldbe different. Was that the reason Dumbledore refused to learn how Voldemort was defeated in Albus’ world?

 Albus’ present was a possible future for this world’s present after all, and Dumbledore expressed great relief when he learned Albus was Harry’s son, and ergo, meant that Voldemort would be defeated. Yet, he urged Albus not to reveal how that happened. . .

. . . Albus thought deeply of what that could imply. . .

 When he tried to make sure his parents would wind up together in this dimension, he instead managed to ensure that they never would. Did Dumbledore think Albus helping in defeating Voldemort would ensure that it would never happen? Did Dumbledore already know that any interference Albus made by purpose would result in making this timeline here more and more different than Albus’ world to the point that Voldemort might never be defeated?

 He thinks I’ll ruin everything. Albus realized that even Dumbledore thought he was a liability. Someone not to be trusted to do the right thing.

 Something inside Albus burned from embarrassment and anger. Anger directed toward himself, toward Dumbledore, and toward both versions of his father. Albus only ever tried doing his best, it wasn’t his fault the force of both universes hated him so much. He wanted to be useful. He really did. He wanted to make a difference—the good kind.

 He wanted to prove them all wrong.

The first month at Hogwarts went on at a relatively slow pace. Some people there still found him fascinating, so the casual approaches and attempts at small talk made for the sake of ‘politeness’ continued for well over a month. (Albus thought that the polite thing to do would be to stop harassing him and to let him be.)

 Despite the tension between him and one of his parents, Albus didn’t let it stop him from getting close to the other. Ginny and Luna would invite him to Hogsmeade, which Albus would keenly agree to. He felt so much more at ease when he was with his mother. Though it was difficult at first to get used to the fact that she was younger than he was in this timeline. He willed himself to act as though she was Lily, and that made talking to her become easier and less awkward until he’d grown used to it. A little to used to it, in fact, to the point where he expected her to randomly start calling him Alby (the name Lily came up with when she tried to say his name as a toddler, and it stuck with her ever since.)

 There were times he would panic and become hopeful all at once whenever he thought Ginny was going to figure out the truth, but in the end, she only made mindless observations of how much he was not Harry and yet acted exactly like him. Albus couldn’t possibly see how he and Harry were similar in any way, and believed she was only saying those words to try and convince herself that they were one and the same. But we’re nothing alike, mum. 

 He noticed how Harry and Ron seemed to be doing exceptionally well at Potions. Albus knew exactly why. If Snape was more open to spending time with him, he could’ve informed the Defense teacher of the whereabouts of his old textbook and, who knows, they might’ve had a good laugh about it together.

 Albus also managed to be on friendlier terms with other Slytherins like Blaise Zabini, strangely enough. He was the quietest out of everyone in their dormitory—possibly in their entire House, even—and he offered Albus small tips and updates on the war when he noticed Albus one day in the Great Hall struggling to keep tabs on the news. Albus was worried about how abysmal the war was beginning to get. The frequent prison break outs. The numerous attacks on muggles. The ministry working hard to prevent any further attacks—but with the deranged Death Eaters on the loose that were difficult to track down, the ministry was beyond struggling.

 Albus knew he and Harry had been at odds since their first meeting when they yelled at each other about Malfoy. Albus had resented Harry for showing criticism toward his House, but when Hermione brought Harry and Ron to the library that eventful night, Albus had tried to move past their estrangement despite himself. If this had been his original timeline, his dad would have immediately caved in and tried to make things right to try to fix their unfixable relationship. But Harry and Albus’ real dad were scarcely the same person, he noticed.

 Harry never apologized for speaking poorly of Albus’ friend whom he never met, and Albus didn’t hold it against him despite everything in his body telling him to do otherwise. Harry also only seemed to want to talk to Albus when the subject matter had to do with their family. That was Albus’ least favorite thing to share with Harry, for he was more than aware of the cruel irony of having to disguise the fact that he was basically telling Harry about himself rather than James Potter, so he tried his best not to mention his dad and shift the focus instead on his siblings.

 Albus knew that was the only reason Harry kept on pretending to be civil with him, and he wanted to be angry for being used like that, but he couldn’t bring himself to fault Harry for this crudity. That shadow of the hero everyone claimed his dad was, had once been a lonely boy living in a cupboard, probably wishing that his own family might one day love him properly. But did the Dursleys ever end up doing so? Albus regretted not asking his real father about that stuff. Maybe then he wouldn’t be so helpless in dealing with a Gryffindor that was his dad yet acted nothing like him.

 He wanted to know the boy his dad once was, and if Albus had to put aside the fact that this Harry hated everything to do with Slytherin and the Malfoys, so be it. But as it turned out during Gryffindor’s quidditch tryouts about a month ago, Albus discovered that Harry appeared not to have any problem with snakes at all. Albus’ curiosity had grown, and he became even more eager to get to know Harry.

 Then the incident with Katie Bell happened.

 Albus knew it had something to do with Draco attempting to assassinate Dumbledore. He figured it must be. He, unfortunately, was in no position to confront Draco yet. At least, not until he got all the facts.

 “Who do you reckon Katie was supposed to give the necklace to?” He asked casually one evening in the library. He wanted to see what Hermione thought about the whole thing.

 “It’s hard to tell, although Harry thinks it was meant for Dumbledore.”

 He’s not wrong, Albus knew that much.

 “Did Harry by any chance mention who might’ve given Katie the necklace?” Albus said without lifting his head from his textbook despite being more interested in her answer rather than whatever he was currently reading.

 Hermione let out an annoyed noise that had nothing to do with Albus. “Yes, it’s. . .” She looked uncertainly at him, as though he might find her answer offensive. “He thinks it was Draco Malfoy,” She paused, studying his reaction, but his expression betrayed nothing. “I think he’s just obsessed in proving that Malfoy’s a Death Eater. He’s been doing so since the term started, which is ridiculous, because Malfoy wasn’t even at Hogsmeade when Katie got cursed.”

 Albus nodded quietly, thinking that Harry was pretty much on the right path. But days later, Katie Bell recovered from the curse enough to recount what she remembered. Albeit she claimed not to know who it was that gave her the necklace, she remembered who she was meant to deliver it to. And it had not been Albus Dumbledore.

“What do you mean the necklace was meant for me?!” Albus gaped at Dumbledore and Snape. He really didn’t like being back in the Headmaster’s office, but he got called here immediately after Katie showed the earliest stages of recovery.

 “Severus?” Dumbledore looked at the former Potions master patiently.

 Snape answered grimly. “I was aware the Dark Lord had given Draco a private task before the term started.” He wore a sour expression as he said his next words. “I didn’t know what it was. No one did. But if I have to guess, I’d say the Dark Lord wouldn’t want another alleged Chosen One to have to deal with.”

 This is all wrong. Albus thought he might get sick. This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen! IT’S ALL WRONG!

 Dumbledore sighed. “I suspected he would want to cheat the prophecy by killing Albus instead of Harry.”

 Albus spluttered. “What—”

 “Why wouldn’t the Dark Lord want to kill Potter?” Snape demanded.

 “I’ve got a theory, but I might be wrong.” Dumbledore offered no elaborations on that. “I knew he would attempt to get rid of Albus, but I always thought he’d do it himself to complete the prophecy.”

 Albus glared daggers at Dumbledore once he pieced together what else that could imply. “You knew Draco wasn’t after you all this time and never made the effort to tell me? You just sat there and let me worry about your life when it’s my life I should’ve been worried about?!”

 “I think you’re missing the silver lining here, Potter, Draco failed.” Snape taunted Albus using his own words from a month ago.

 “Why are you being such a prick?” Albus snapped. He internally wondered if his dad had been high when he named him after these two.

 Everything was wrong. This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen.

 Narcissa Malfoy was supposed to entrust Severus Snape to protect Draco. Draco was supposed to try to kill Dumbledore. Snape was supposed to work with Dumbledore to plot one of the biggest schemes ever recorded in history.

 Instead, because of Albus’ mere presence, Voldemort was out to get him.

 Draco had tried to kill him.

 It was so surreal. Mr. Malfoy, his friend’s dad who was always nice to him, had given the cursed necklace to Katie Bell to give to Albus.

 He had been too in shock from that revelation alone that he wasn’t able to sleep at all that night.

 He kept looking over the other’s unoccupied bed in deep paranoia as though expecting Draco to stand over him carrying a knife to end his life. Albus pretended to be asleep when Draco finally returned form patrolling the hallways. He slept on the bed next to Albus’ like he always did. But this was the first time Albus felt this unsafe in his own dorm.

 Dumbledore and Snape believed there was no reason for Albus not to be safe in the Slytherin sixth year dormitory because Draco wouldn’t try to kill him without being discreet. After all, the whole reason of making Katie deliver the object that should have killed him was so Draco wouldn’t have anything to tie him to the murder.

 As Albus remained wide awake fantasizing about murdering his namesakes, Draco had suddenly stirred awake, hissing silently in pain.

 Albus was able to guess the reason. He didn’t need to see Draco to know he was currently clutching his left arm.

 Draco had left, which made Albus even more uneasy. What could Voldemort possibly want from Draco now? Was Draco about to attempt another murder on him?

 Albus wasn’t going to stay here all night where he would make a vulnerable target. He rearranged the covers to make it seem his figure was sound asleep on bed before leaving the dorm room. He wasn’t sure where he’d go but he figured it should be anywhere but his bed. That's how he ended up in the boy’s bathroom, pacing in the small space nervously, his wand in hand the whole time.

 He didn’t know how long he'd been there for. He must have dosed off on the bathroom floor because when footsteps could be heard approaching from a distance, Albus had woken up with a start. He barely opened the door to peek as the other Slytherin made his way to their shared dormitory.

 Draco had been carrying something with him, Albus noticed. The object shone from the faint light highlighting Slytherin’s common room and corridors. Albus waited several minutes, maybe half an hour, before returning to the dormitory. Draco’s curtains were spread around his bed for privacy, but Albus doubted that whatever object Draco brought here was in bed with him.

 The Slytherin moved as quietly as possible as he searched through the other Slytherin’s trunk. He casted quiet spells to get rid of any protective wards before attempting to open Draco’s trunk.

 His hand dug through textbooks and cloths before something steely and cold grazed his skin. Albus dug the object out in the open to examine it.

 Upon first glimpse, he knew instantly what the tiara was. After all, he didn’t choose to pursue antiquarianism for a career on a whim. He could recognize numerous ancient artifacts for what they were at first glance, and the one in his grasp was significant to this castle’s history, for it belonged to one of its four founders.

 It was Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem.

 And it so happened to be one of the six horcruxes. It was known that Voldemort had split his soul into seven pieces by ripping it apart six times.

 Everyone in Albus’ timeline knew of them, of course. The history of Voldemort’s six horcruxes wasn’t supposed to be public knowledge at first, but his dad’s insistence of redeeming Regulus Black’s name caused it to be. They practically teach them at school since three of the horcruxes were artifacts that once belonged to the founding fathers. In Hogwarts: A History’s latest addition, it documented Salazar Slytherin’s locket, Helga Hufflepuff’s cup, and this diadem as horcruxes made by Slytherin’s descendant known as Lord Voldemort.

 There were also the other three horcruxes, of course, a diary his dad destroyed when he was twelve, the Gaunt’s family heirloom, and Nagini, the only living object made into a horcrux.

 Albus’ hand shook from terror. He was practically holding Voldemort’s soul in his hand. He thought about bringing it to Dumbledore but decided against it.

 A sudden sense of righteousness overwhelmed him. He wanted to be the one to destroy it. He wanted to prove he was not a liability. He could do it, he thought. This was his chance to make a good difference, to be useful. To be brave.

 Well, Albus was feeling a little too brave at the moment. He opened Draco’s curtains and threw the diadem on his sleeping face.

 “Potter?!”

 “We need to talk.”