Anagapesis

Raison d’etre (Ray-zon-Detr-a);

1. A reason for existing

Harry woke stickily. His arms made a noise when he ripped them apart and his legs felt like he dipped them in the dirt. He had fallen asleep awkwardly and his neck hurt if he turned it too far to the left.

He rubbed his hands over his hair, then his neck, and eventually over his eyes. His muscles needed good stretching. His eyes scanned the room, breathing in the faint scent of jasmine. It wasn’t a massive change from before (or do I call it the future?). There were only subtle changes other than the floor. Like, the doorknob, the height of the ceiling, and the checkered doors.

He scheduled his day mentally, deciding to spend it by growing accustomed to the 1940s.

There was a dusty mirror in the corner of the room and he berated himself for being in his Hogwarts robes. He tugged off the tie and the red and black cloak, leaving a white button-up and long black pants. He would need to buy new robes, shoes, and items for Hogwarts.

Harry groaned, this seemed like a lot harder than Dumbledore made it out to be.

He grabbed his cloak and wand, left the room, and locked the door behind him. He was skeptical about leaving his bag there but he had faith. The wooden steps were thankfully not creaky so it allowed him to hurry down without worry.

There was small chatter in the bar and Harry was astounded at the differences. The floor was checkered, like the door. Honestly, these people were obsessed with checkered designs.

Multiple black stools were placed around the room. There was a pungent stench of alcohol that made Harry wrinkle his nose. Only six people were in the room, one was an assumed bartender.

The only woman there had on a long pastel blue dress that was clipped at the waist. She was bony-looking, with long slender arms that reached around one of the man’s necks. She was fairly young, giggling, and full of life. It disgusted Harry the way the other men were looking at her.

He fled the pub, out into the fresh air. Hogsmeade was full of life, barely any litter, Harry noted.

People were strolling by, hands linked. Harry felt a wave of nausea that this was all just a dream. He still kept going, looking around at all the infrastructure. He most likely looked like he had never stepped foot in the village, but Harry couldn’t help thinking that was exactly what it was like. This was a completely different place. Yeah, there were places around now that were still around 54 years in the past like Madam Puddifoots, The Three Broomsticks (which Harry was very relieved to find out about) Honeydukes, and more. Yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was all foreign.

After looking around, even gazing at the castle from afar, he went to the owerly in which he would conjure some paper to right to the current headmaster, Armando Dippet.

He wrote some sob story about how he was depressed cause his parents died, and he witnessed and spoke to Grindelwald himself, blah, blah, but he wished to return to somewhere he could gain a good education.

He finished it with a plea, after all, who was going to say no to an orphan?

He sent it off after paying to use an owl. (Paying!? That wasn’t a thing in the future.)

He hoped he would get a reply soon so he could prepare supplies. Harry whistled a tune quietly, holding a bag of sweets he bought for dinner. If needed he could go downstairs and sneak some food later.

He entered a pub, seeing only one figure sitting in the dark in the far corner of the room. Suspicious, he thought humouredly. He walked up to the bar, and the man cleaning glass was eyeing him. No doubt because of how young he looked.

“‘I help ya?” He spoke and Harry had a very, very hard time understanding what he said.

“Uh, yes. I was wondering if you had any rooms available?” Harry said politely, swishing the bag back and forth.

“Rooms? ‘He is a pub, not someplace you ‘an come and sleep at,” The man spat, almost rudely.

Harry reeled back, “The sign outside said this was a pub AND a place I can sleep.”

Harry crossed his arms and stared back.

“Ya need money to sleep ‘ere.”

Harry sunk his hand into his pocket and pulled out a few gallons, “I’m sure that’ll do.”

Harry watched smugly as the man slowed down while drying his glass. He thought he could see a little bit of drool.

“Well?”

The old man sneered, “One night boy,” Then collected all the money greedily, eyes wide and round. Then he fiddled under the counter, the sound of keys jingling noisily making him cringe. Harry already knew which room he would take, though.

There was a nearby newspaper and Harry slid it closer, hearing the old man cursing at the stuck keys. The main title was ‘Grindelwald’. His picture was on the front page, big bold letters gleaming at Harry, ‘GRINDELWALD STRIKES AGAIN’.

Harry nodded along while he was reading, but then, something caught his eye.

Harry reeled back like he had been burned. His mouth choked on nothing, tongue lolling wildly. His heart dropped, thumping against his chest and Harry instantly put his right arm over it. He forced himself to stand straighter, bile rising in his throat. A sweat broke out again, and his eyes crinkled downwards.

Because, there, written in bold letters was the date.

4th November 1943

The time had been set wrong. By months, years.

How could Dumbledore set it this wrong? It was two years before the desired time, meaning Tom Riddle would be his age, right now.

He faintly heard the man ask rudely, “Shouldn’t you be in Hogwarts?”

Yes, yes he should be. In his time.

Harry made a noise from the back of his throat, snatching the keys and newspaper and jogging up to his room, forgetting to look clueless. He threw the bag of lollies on the bed, staring at the newspaper as if it would spring to life. This changed a lot. Tom Riddle would be his age now.

He watched the newspaper for a while, scanning the pages like it would change. Like this was all just a mistake.

It was only a few hours later did an owl pecked the window and Harry stood, limbs stiff.

It was a reply from Dippet as he expected.

Mr Potter,

I have received your owl and know instantly I must ask you to come into my office to discuss your future schooling. I am horrified at the situation you find yourself in and send my sincere sympathies.

However, I have not found any of your files or previous school records, if you could meet me in my office at Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry at 11 am tomorrow with your birth certificate and files then we can speak about your situation.

I apologize if any of this comes across as crass.

Sincerely,

Armando Dippet.

Well, what an interesting fellow. Harry laughed despite himself, sounding despicable.

..

Harry desperately did not want to walk up to Hogwarts. His body already was sluggish in movements. He was more determined to find a fireplace than to start walking. He had wasted half an hour before the decision to give up crossed his mind. With the clock racing, Harry knew he wouldn’t make it in time if he did.

He went inside the three broomsticks, the fourth shop he had looked in, and asked.

“Excuse me, sir?” Harry asked politely at the man holding three empty cups.

“Yes?” He replied, looking at Harry.

He was young, and couldn’t have been many years out of Hogwarts. He had blonde hair, albeit a little greasy. He had green eyes, again not as noticeable as Harry’s startling ones. Still, he was quite handsome. Harry felt his throat close up tightly.

“I was… just… wondering if you have a ..uh.. floo network, I could use?” Harry stumbled over his words. Reminiscing how the man looked so, so much like Madam Rosmerta.

“Floo? Yeah, we do. Look I’ll drop these cups off and show you,”

“Jacob! Back to work!” A man screeched.

Jacobs’s face dropped in shock and he hurried away to place the cups away. Harry stood there awkwardly and looked around. He came back dusting his hands on the side of his apron. Jacob (Must be Rosmerta’s father) came back, looking in Harry’s eyes as though momentarily stunned. It shouldn’t have given Harry the boost of confidence it did.

“This way. I’m Jacob as well by the way.”

“Harry Potter,” Harry replied. He felt a smile broaden his features when he realized Jacob didn’t do a second take at his last name like most did. Ever since his parents died his raison d’etre was because he was The Boy Who Lived, now it was to prevent the downfall of the wizarding world. Again. No biggy.

Jacob led him to a brighter, back room. Harry wondered if he had to pay like he had to for an owl.

The fireplace was there, looking like it did in the future.

Jacob handed him the small bucket and a dimpled smile, “I’m guessing you know how to use the floo network?”

“I do yeah, thanks.”

Harry nodded at him and Jacob left the room.

..

Harry exited the fireplace with soot on his clothes (Which was still the white shirt and black pants) and in his hair. The headmaster, Dippet, was sitting at his desk. He looked up at Harry’s arrival and smiled.

“Mr Potter, please sit,”

The office was largely different from when Dumbledore was headmaster. Fawkes wasn’t there, instead, what looked to be a coat rack. There were many books yet they were all neatly placed on a shelf colour-coded.

Dippet himself was an old man. He had shoulder-length grey hair, brown robes, and a weird purple party hat that was sitting lazily on his head. Harry took a seat leisurely, still gawking at the room.

“Yes, very interesting, isn’t it?” Dippet said, giving a short and dry laugh after.

“Very much sir,”

The headmaster turned sullen making Harry look at him, eyes widening. He noted disappointedly that there was no sparkle in the man’s brown eyes. Harry held his breath on what he would say next. All his life he had sympathy for his parent’s untimely death, what’s one more?

“I am undeniably sorry Mr. Potter,” Here we go. The headmaster rambled on, repeating the same things eventually when he ran out of nice things to say.

“I am under the impression that you brought your files. I was quite surprised to find no record about you!” The man bellowed.

Harry smiled and nodded, “Of course, have them all in my bag,” Then Harry leaned in closer, thriving on how the man leaned closer too like Harry was about to say a secret. A fake secret.

“You see, sir, my parents were murdered by him!” Harry wailed, eyes glassy with crocodile tears.

The headmaster seemed startled and grabbed a box of tissues and handed it to him awkwardly.

Dippet had leaned back so Harry leaned forward again, a crazed look in his eye.

“They were aurors,” Harry whispered.

The headmaster looked mildly cornered as he leaned closer again, “Who?”
“My parents.”

Dippet opened his mouth to say something but closed it, ogling like a fish.

“They had to keep their identities safe. They had to keep me safe. There were no records I was born but a signed certificate. I was homeschooled before this, being able to pack up and move if my parents were threatened. And now- now their de-dea-.” Harry made his bottom lip wobble, trying so, so hard not to laugh at the gobsmacked expression. This was too easy.

Harry grabbed the papers, sliding them across the table while dabbing his eyes. Sirius would be proud of the level of dramatic antics he was conjuring.

The headmaster avoided looking him in the eyes, focusing a little too much on the papers.

After a while of shuffling between them, he spoke.

“I couldn’t fathom living with myself if I turned you down, Mr. Potter. Your paperwork is all in order, how soon were you planning on starting?”

Harry pretended to ponder, “Next weak?” He asked weakly.

“Perfect! Perfect! You have everything you need, I’m guessing?”

“Ah no, I do not. But I do plan on going shopping.”

“And you have a place to stay?”

Harry most likely thought for too long to deem it natural but the headmaster didn’t comment.

“Yes, I do.”

More frolicking took place over the next hour. Silly questions like, What was your best subject, and if he played quidditch? He keenly replied every time, never letting his tiredness seep into his tone.

Eventually, they got to a topic he was completely interested in: Hogwarts houses.

“Now, for centuries we have had four houses as a school. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and-”

“Slytherin.”

The man peered at him, “I have read Hogwarts: A History. My parents, they made me. They always wished I would be able to attend.”

Dippet nodded, clearly uncomfortable.

The headmaster stood, being shorter than Harry had expected.

He walked towards the back shelf, grabbing an old familiar hat. Harry smiled albeit himself.

“Sit down, Mr.Potter,”

“Now sir?”

“Yes, yes. Let’s see what house you are.”

Harry slid out of the chair towards the stool.

Dippet raised the hat onto his hat and Harry held his breath.

“Harry Potter. I suppose we meet again.”

Harry shivered.

“Or not yet, I should say.” The hat gave a throaty chuckle.

“Let’s see, let’s see. Gryffindor before, eh? No. No, you want Slytherin this time.” The hat spoke, croakily.

“Ah, but you did so well in Gryffindor. Hufflepuff is no option, nor is Ravenclaw. You only have one ambition this time.”

It paused for a second, pondering.

“Good luck, Harry Potter.”

Harry didn’t have time to process a thought.

“SLYTHERIN!”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. It would be much easier to get closer to Riddle if he were a Slytherin.

Dippet seemed overjoyed, giving Harry a kind yet tight smile.

“Very well Mr. Potter, I look forward to seeing you same time next week. With your school supplies.”

..

The week passed by slower than Harry had wanted. He went to Diagon Alley where he purchased his school items.

He got new robes and a few changes of clothes. The books were harder to find, as some of them from the future were different to know. Harry noted that the potions book from the 1940s was different from his sixth year. It wouldn’t stop him though. He stopped at the quidditch shop as well where he ended up daydreaming.

About quidditch, of course.

The brooms were different and Harry cringed when he realised how slow they would be. He wishes he brought his Firebolt now.

When having to have a pet, Harry chose an owl. He pointedly did not get a white one, instead choosing a plain brown one whom he named Mirielle. She was a calm and collected owl with round brown eyes.

He brought other things needed for the select subjects he chose, the Study of ancient runes and the Care of magical creatures. Dippet would give him a week if he wished to add or change the ones he chose.

It was a half hour before he was supposed to floo back to the school. Harry was gazing at himself in the mirror, looking intensely at himself. He looked disgusting. In a sick kind of way. Still, his complexion was pale- paler than what should be deemed normal. His hair wasn’t being compliant today, sticking up in different directions. It was still the same dark hair as normal, except he had bought banana-smelling shampoo because he could. There were rings around his dazzling green eyes, showing how much sleep he truly got.

His movements were sluggish and sloppy especially.

He sighed, he was always the best at picking out what he didn’t like about himself.

His robes were neatly done, a green he never thought he would wear.

Slytherin. He had spent his Hogwarts detesting anyone with a green tie. Karma had bit him hard on the arse.

His owl was already at the owerly and his trunk in his new dorm room. With Riddle. He supposed by the time he got there already people would know about his arrival. Yet, the jittery feeling hadn’t left him. He was excited. Some days he had dreaded waking up at Hogwarts, prepared for people to glare and whisper cruel things behind his back.

Yet, this wouldn’t happen here. He wouldn’t be shamed because of his name, hated for no reason. He wouldn’t dread having to live his life. It was a relief.

He walked towards The three Broomsticks, robes swishing. It was a Friday afternoon, around 4. Classes must have been finished a while ago. Entering the bar, he was surprised that it was fairly empty.

He did however notice that Jacob was sitting at the bar.

“Jacob!” What was he doing? He cursed himself, why did he sound so, so keen?

The man turned around, face brightening when their eyes connected.

“Potter!”

Jacob had a steaming cup in front of him, as well as a croissant. The man swiveled around in his chair. The man’s eyes scanned Harry’s figure.

“So you are a Hogwarts student?”

“Yes, yes. Just started actually.” Harry grinned.

Jacob clapped him on the back when he was near.

“Need to use the floor again?”

Harry nodded and Jacob led him again. Harry had been using theflooro for quite a while in the past week, talking more to the man every time. Jacob had a twin sister who he met on Sunday. She looked so much like Rosmerta that Harry was unsure which one of them would be her parent.

“Yeah, joining my sixth year,” Jacob seemed momentarily distressed by this.

“I can try and visit though, I’m sure my Hogsmeade weekends won’t be very busy. If you know what I mean.” Harry winked cheesily.

Jacob gave a loud laugh, watching as Harry grabbed pieces of floo powder.

Harry nodded solemnly, appearing sad.

“See you there then.”

Harry bellowed into the headmaster’s office, bag slinging back and forth. He felt the momentarily queasiness but the flutter in his chest was enough to distract his mind. The grin stayed on his face until it slipped off.

Dippet was chatting with another student and Harry’s breath was blown out of his chest.

She didn’t look like Sirius pointedly. It was in the sharpness of her chin, the high and regal cheekbones, the greyness of her eyes. But it was also the coldness in the deep of the grey, it was also the way her chin was held pointedly higher that was different.

“Ah, Mr Potter, we were just discussing you.”

Harry’s bright green eyes met her cool grey ones, an eyebrow arching.

“This is our head girl here at Hogwarts. Mr. Potter meet Lucretia Black, Ms. Black meet Mr. Potter.”

And Harry felt light-headed.