You think you know someone

It’s been as entire month since the incident and nothing’s changed. He knew that he should have been back to his home dimension this whole time, but how could he? Not only was he anxious to face the family he hadn’t seen in nearly a year, especially with him being the reason his father wasn’t there, but he also couldn’t bring himself to leave this dimension without a further clue of where Harry was. It wasn’t an easy decision nor a particularly wise one either, but he chose to remain where he was for the time being and maybe even finish up the rest of the term since no one seemed to stop him from staying. After all, he did say he wasn’t going anywhere until Harry was back, and who knows how long that would take.

 Albus had sent a Patronus once every now and then for the sake of letting his family know he’s still alive and uninjured, purposefully concealing any information about dad or the war in general. He was sort of grateful for the other side’s inability to send him anything back now that Sirius was here. Otherwise, Albus’ family would ask questions that Albus wasn’t ready to answer. At last not yet.

 Perhaps finding Harry and making certain of his safety would ease up the guilt Albus found himself drowned in lately. Or maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe Albus just wanted to distance himself from the constant pang by distracting himself with the mystery of Harry’s disappearance.

 Is it even a mystery?

 The castle felt almost the same as it did—or would be—in the twenty-first century: vacant of the alluring threat that was the Dark lord. Albus hadn’t even recognized how it differed from the present when he first arrived, for he was too concerned with absorbing the news of where and when he was to pay any mind to the many aurors stationed around Hogwarts all the way to Hogsmeade. That, and how vacant the castle had been from the clear receding number of students due to some parents wanting to homeschool their young or transfer them away from Great Britain. Now, some of those absent students from the first term have returned, and the castle had never felt so vibrant with life.

 Everyone welcomed that inviting change with ease. Now that the threat was gone, students Albus knew and didn’t know were eager to return to their daily life. Albus envied their carefree and, dare he say, festive attitudes toward the vanquishment of the Dark lord. The only other people who showed any semblance of remorse had only ever directed it toward the now deceased headmaster. Students and teachers alike regarded the late Albus Dumbledore with such reverence as if his sacrifice had been the one that personally led to Voldemort’s demise.

 Today was the third day of the term, and Albus found himself awake since before dawn. In truth, he hadn’t been sleeping well lately. His anxiety caused him to lay awake at night. And when he did manage to fall asleep, he would eventually wake up so soon and the night would still go on.

 He had long tuned out snores of the other sixth years in their shared dorm room. He could make out the rise and fall of their torso through the faint lights. The bed next to his had its drapes drawn open, showing a bed vacant, indicating that Draco Malfoy was awake. Albus did not wish to so much as look at the face of the one who sold him out, let alone speak to him.

 By the time Albus decided to leave his bed, get dressed, and climb down the stairs toward the common room, it was nearly past dawn. He left Monty in the dormitory, knowing the serpent was smart enough not to get itself in situations that might get him killed.

 Albus let out a tiny sigh of relief when he hadn’t spotted Draco anywhere. There were a couple of seventh year down here, and one younger student who seemed to have fallen asleep on one of the armchairs. Albus paid them no mind and continued his way to leave the dungeon.

 An early breakfast wasn’t really on his mind, but he went to the Great Hall anyway to wait for Ginny, Hermione and Ron.

 The glow that came through the windows had a cold beam to it, but instead of bringing chills, it only helped enrich the sense of warmth and coziness the castle provided. In that moment, it had struck to Albus that Hogwarts was more than a just a school.

 Hogwarts was home.

 Funny, it was usually his dad that ever thought of Hogwarts with such fondness and reverence. And for the first time ever, Albus understood him.

 And just like that, he was saddened at the thought of never sharing this sentiment with his father. Bitter, even, that it had taken him this long to come to this revelation.

 A tightness came over his chest, and it was difficult to distract himself from the constant pang when everything here reminded him of dad. However, an opportunity for a distraction did present itself once he reached the Great Hall.

 Albus was not surprised when he saw Luna Lovegood sitting all alone at the Ravenclaw table before any of the food was even set. He noticed she had a scissor in hand and was cutting pieces of colorful paper, and then using her wand to levitate and arrange them in peculiar order. He found the sight oddly endearing.

 Luna appeared to be so engrossed in her work that Albus doubted she noticed him approaching her.

 “Hullo, Luna.” He said quietly as though afraid she might get spooked if he were to speak loader.

 “Oh,” Her hands paused in their task, and she turned her head, blinking at him once behind the strange glasses she wore before a warm smile broke. “Good morning.”

 Albus returned the smile. “Mind if I sit?”

 “Not at all.” Luna replied, gesturing to the empty bench.

 “So what’s all this?” Albus jerked his chin at the different-sized shredded papers once he sat down beside Luna.

 “I’m writing to my da.” Luna answered simply.

 “Uh-huh,” Albus didn’t see any writing being done. “seems like a difficult task writing each word in a tiny piece of paper.”

 “I won’t be writing in these, silly. Although it does make for a wee puzzle to solve if I do. I’ve already written what I need right here.” She pulled out a piece of parchment, and sure enough, it was already fully crammed with what could only be her handwriting.

 Luna folded the letter, and, with a slight flick of her wand, most of the floating pieces surrounded the folded parchment to create some sort of a paper bird. The color patterns she chose for it made the bird seem almost real.

 “Impressive.”

 “Thank you, Al.”

 The bird though was still missing its tail. Albus observed in contented silence as Luna worked on the rest of the colorful papers, cutting them expertly.

 For a while Albus had been too memorized by Luna’s work that he hadn’t thought of dad at all.

 When he realized that, he felt guilty for not thinking of enough of dad. Guilty he was even trying to distract himself from thinking about him.

 Albus was stuck in a prison of his own making, and he didn’t know how to escape it considering that it was all in his own head. How could someone escape their own mind?

 “How did you cope when your mum died?”

 Luna and Albus were both taken aback by the sudden question Albus had blurted before he could think twice.

 Luna had a blank expression on. “Oh?”

 Albus considered telling her that she didn’t have to answer him if it was too personal. But if she thought he’s been too blunt in his question, she hadn’t said a thing about it nor express it in any way.

 “I think it took a long time for me to accept what happened.” She returned to her task, eyes focusing on the levitated papers as she answered Albus’ query. “Even though I’ve seen the life leave her before me, I didn’t want to believe what my eyes saw. Once it truly registered to me, I felt too trapped in my own head to care enough about what was going on all around me. I remember being so focused on the things I can no longer do with my mum again—and the things I’ll never get to experience for the first time with her being present—that I just could never bring myself to live on like everything was the same—because it wasn’t.”

 Albus had listened so attentively that although his eyes were glued to Luna’s little project, he hadn’t been seeing it at all.

 So far, he felt he could relate to some of Luna’s experience. He had been feeling trapped inside his head a lot lately, with what focusing on the missed opportunities, all the things that were left unsaid between him and his father. Only, dad did have the last say in the end. He knew that what he was about to do would kill him, whereas Albus had been partly shocked, partly confused. It wasn’t fair that Albus didn’t have the chance to say everything he wished to tell his father. And what’s worse, he wanted to be bitter about it, but how could he?

 “I remember having close to no desire in participating in everyday life,” Luna continued. “so for the most part, I had my da reminding me to eat and to get dressed and to brush my teeth. And sometimes, I had to be the one to remind him of these things as well. By the time I stopped needing any reminding from him, I realized that a lot of time has passed, which meant all that time that was spent, was time I’ve kept on living without her. . . the world didn’t end with her. It may have lost a little of its color, but it still goes on.”

 Albus hadn’t noticed how Luna completed her paper bird, didn’t notice the students entering the Great Hall, nor the food magically appearing on all tables. To him, they were all as interesting as the walls of the Great Hall.

 “Sill, that didn’t make me miss her any less.” Luna concluded by waving with her wand, and the bird took off with her letter inside it. A ‘woah!’ was heard from second years as the paper bird flew over their head and out of the Great Hall.

 This time, Albus did notice its long tail with ridiculously many colors fluttering in the air. He flashed Luna a smile, not in the polite manner he’d been doing previously, but genuine.

 Early risers were chattering off in a distance. There weren’t any Ravenclaws very nearby, the closest being a fourth year a couple of rows away. Albus’ eyes wandered over Hufflepuff’s table toward Gryffindor in search of his interdimensional family.

 He wondered for a moment if he ought to have spoken with them of such matters instead of Luna. But truth be told, he hadn’t exactly come to the Great Hall with that particular notion in mind. Given how the Weasleys and Hermione were as equally anxious about Harry’s disappearance as him, he didn’t wish for his grief to be a hindrance. He thought he could do this alone, thought he wanted to keep things to himself and not bother anyone with his troubles, but he found he was glad that he spoke to Luna, grateful to know there was someone he could relate to.

 “Did the pain ever go away?” Albus spoke up a last.

 “No.” She said wistfully. “But I can say that with time, it gets more bearable.”

 “Right.” Albus muttered. It’s all a matter of time.

Throughout the rest of the week, Albus waited restlessly for any news regarding Harry’s whereabouts, but it had been to no avail. . . that lasted until Darco Malfoy had pulled him aside one morning after Care of Magical Creatures where Hagrid was happily sharing facts about the Norwegian Ridgeback (although the lesson had nothing to do with dragons and no one had the heart to redirect him back to the topic assigned by the curriculum.) Albus had been far from thrilled for having to be in the same room as Draco, he did his best not to initiate any form of contact, so he was understandably annoyed by Draco’s insistence of speaking to him all on a sudden.

 “I need to speak to you.” He’d told Albus.

 When Albus attempted to evade him, Draco clung to his arm and said it was urgent what he had to say.

 Yeah, right. Whatever Draco thought Albus should know, he didn’t want to hear it.

 It was only when the blonde said please in a defeated tone, that Albus finally paid enough attention to him to notice how frantically troubled he looked.

 “What do you want, Malfoy?” Albus asked coldly. The betrayal was still too fresh to let the other off the hook, even if Albus knew full well the reasons that prompted such betrayal.

 Draco hesitated, and for a moment, Albus thought he seemed to be regretting reaching out to him. But that reluctance only lasted a moment before a look of avid determination took over Draco’s features.

 “It’s Harry.” He begun. “Something happened, and. . . I think you ought to know about it.”

 Well, that was not an apology, but Albus would be a fool not to listen to what was about to be said.

 “What do you mean ‘something happened’?” Albus narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You know where he is?”

 “What? No—”

 “You’ve seen him?” Albus pressed.

 “I. . . believe I did.” Draco grimaced, eyes wistful.

 Albus became quiet, mind buzzing with a million questions that he hoped would be answered soon.

 After a long intake of breath, Draco began telling his tale. Albus listened patiently as Draco narrated what he remembered happened during his time at Mungo’s. How he’d seen Harry sneak in with an invisibility cloak, and how strangely he’d been acting.

 Albus wasn’t entirely surprised by this information. Given what he already knew of the situation, he could only assume it was the piece of Voldemort’s soul taking over either Harry’s free will or only his body.

 “Last I've seen him; he looked like he hasn't slept in days.” Albus recalled hearing Hermione’s voice say to Sirius when they had been at the Burrow.

 “I can testify to that. He hasn’t been getting enough sleep lately—before the holidays even.” Ron had rebutted. “And when he did, he’d often talk in his sleep.”

 “What’d he say?” A feminine voice had asked, it wasn’t Hermione’s or anyone’s voice Albus was familiar with. It might have been a member of the Order.

 “I’m not sure.” Ron’s voice answered. “Most of it wasn’t illegible, but I think some of it was in Parseltongue.”

 “Don’t forget he’s been acting strangely since V-Voldemort perished.” Hermione again. “And I don’t think sleep deprivation have something to do with it—if anything, I’d wager it’s whatever is causing his lack of sleep.”

 “But. . . I didn’t imagine it’d mean something like that.” Ron had said. “It wasn’t like it was last year with the night terrors, but now I’m not so sure. . .”

 Albus and Sirius had shared a knowing look at the time. It was then that they have shared all the facts they’ve known about the horcruxes to the reliable members of the Order and whoever else they thought had the right to know.

 They haven’t been able to trace Harry’s movements. It was as though he just disappeared. Albus worried they would never find him. That pessimistic thought was replaced by a shred of hollowed hope when something had occurred a couple of weeks back. Severus Snape and several other Death Eaters in custody (according to Moody) had felt the burn of their Mark.

 No one knew whose Death Eater’s Mark activated the rest, but what was even more pressing, no one knew how it was possible for the Dark Mark to become active without Voldemort being the one to initiate any sort of contact with one of his followers. And, as far as anyone was concerned, Voldemort was dead.

 Albus knew that Snape and Dumbledore had both destroyed whatever remained of the horcruxes. Before the headmaster had passed, he’d obtained the ring horcrux and destroyed it first. Then, according to Snape, he’d issued a private warrant to search the Lestrange vault under the jurisdiction of having an ancient Hogwarts artifact stolen, which wasn’t entirely untrue since Hufflepuff’s cup was later discovered to be in the vault. Albus supposed Slytherin’s locket was the easiest to find with it being guarded by Kreacher, who was himself working hard to destroy the horcrux. Nagini, the diadem, and the diary were already destroyed as well. All horcruxes were gone except for the one.

 The remaining horcrux in question could be the only thing capable of activating the Dark Mark. As for whose Mark was chosen, well, the answer had now presented itself to Albus.

 “It was your Mark?” Albus said in shock by the time Draco was done.

 “Well you don’t need to sound so accusing like that. It isn’t like I wished for any of this to happen.” Draco retorted in dismay. “I don’t even understand what it is that’s happening!”

 “I might.” Albus said and wasn’t sure if he should be sharing more on that. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner? That must’ve happened, like what, a month ago?”

 “I wasn’t entirely sure of what I saw.” Draco frowned. “And, as I recall, you’ve been avoiding me the moment we got here.”

 Albus resisted the urge to gape at him. Was he being serious? “Has it crossed your mind why I’ve been avoiding you? You might’ve forgotten what happened the last time I’ve tried being amicable with you, but I haven’t.”

 “That’s what this is about?” Draco seemed genuinely surprised, which only irked Albus some more. “You know it wasn’t anything personal—besides, you’re clearly fine!”

 Albus scoffed, crossing his arms. “No thanks to you.”

 “An apology is what you want, is that it?” Draco stated, raising a brow.

 “That would be an ideal start—hold on—let’s back up a little—so what if I was avoiding you? I wasn’t the only one whose been distant.” Albus said pointedly. “You haven’t any intention of telling me this before now. So, what changed your mind?”

 “Nothing in particular.” He shrugged. “Eventually, I figured it’s the least I owe you, after what happened.”

 Unbelievable.

 Exasperated, Albus threw his hands in the air. “Well, yes!”

 “Will you please calm down? How many times do I need to apologize for you to know that I have regrets?”

 “You haven’t even done it once—”

 “Albus, I’m sorry for the trouble I caused. There.”

 He was momentarily taken aback from hearing his real name being uttered within these walls. He quickly double checked to see if any students nearby might’ve heard, even though he knew that Draco had already taken them to a secluded corner in the beginning of this conversation.

 “What, not comfortable owning the truth?” He heard Draco say.

 Was he comfortable letting everyone know that he’s not only a dimension traveler, but also the time-traveling son of the other version of Harry Potter he’s been pretending to be the whole time? The answer was a simple no.

 Last thing he needed was more unrequited attention from strangers.

 “Obsoletely not.” Albus huffed out a dry laugh.

 “Why not?”

 He knew that with Voldemort gone, the threat had been eliminated, but having to explain to everyone who he was would be futile as well as it would be the cause for many headaches (for Albus). The important people already know, there’s no use letting the world know.

 “People are just getting used to the idea of two Harry Potters, why make a second fuss over the time-traveling bit of an already complicated story?”

 “I suppose.” Draco said nonchalantly. “So, er. . . we’re alright?”

 “Yeah,” He admitted after a pause, not able to think of a reason why not other than sheer stubbornness. He regretfully hadn’t thought about Draco at all since the holidays. He was guilty of being a bad friend in that regard, especially given his knowledge of Draco spending nearly the entirety of the holidays in Mungo’s (Ron had brought up the Sectumsempra incident once in the Burrow). There was no good enough reason to stay angry at the blonde who only did what he thought would save his family.

 If only he could’ve done something to save his own.