Chapter 7
What the fuck.
What the fuck.
What. The. Fuck.
He must be dreaming. Or dying. Or going insane.
“Mad-Eye Moody! Oh, thank God!” says a seventeen-year-old Lily Evans—one of them.
What. The. Fuck.
He has no idea how he got here, where here even is, or why the fuck he’s surrounded by his old schoolmates. And why the hell are there so many of them?!
He looks down at himself. His disguise is still intact. For now.
The kids are closing in on him, all talking at once, voices overlapping in frantic desperation.
“Moody, you have to help us!”
“We need to get Dumbledore—do you know where he is?”
He looks around. What the hell is he supposed to do?
“Somebody tell me what is going on,” he demands.
“All of us—” a girl he can’t place speaks up, “—we’re from different times and universes, and somehow we all ended up here.”
“How do we get back home?” Someone else asks.
He stalls. No idea how to answer. Everyone is staring at him.
“Let me through! Move!” Someone says with authority.
He watches as Adult Lupin pushes through the crowd of children.
Shit.
Oh great. And now he has Black dragging after him.
“Moody, don’t you think us grown-ups should step aside and talk? Keep the children out of this,” Lupin suggests.
The other adults around the room nod in agreement.
"NO!"
The word flies out of his mouth before he can stop it. The room falls into stunned silence.
“No… because…”
Think, dammit.
“I need… to talk to everyone!” He says, grasping at straws.
Lupin squints at him. “Really?”
“Yes!” He straightens up, forcing confidence into his voice. “Yes, I need to hear the story from everyone’s perspective, and I’ll start with you, you, you—not you—and you. ”
He picks his chosen few. Mostly Barties, Dorcases, and Reguluses.
No Evans. He cannot deal with that right now.
“Is there anything we can do while you do that, sir?” A Lily asks.
“No, just…”
An idea strikes him.
“Yes! Pair everyone up with the versions of themselves from their universe.”
“But how?” Asks another girl—McKinnon, if he remembers correctly.
He shrugs. “Couldn’t tell ya, girl. Figure it out.”
And with that, he stomps off with his newly recruited group before anyone can ask more questions.
Once outside, he takes a much-needed deep breath, pressing his back against the door. His hands run over his face—still intact. Good. Then, he turns around.
They’re all staring at him expectantly.
Fucking annoying.
“So,” a Dorcas asks, popping a piece of gum into her mouth, “what do you want to know?”
A beat passes.
“I’m not Mad-Eye Moody,” he says.
Silence.
“What.”
“What do you mean you’re not Mad-Eye Moody? You look like Moody,” the Dorcas says, irritated.
“Yeah, but the thing is… I’m not.”
He glances around, sheepish.
“So who are you?” A Regulus, cold and unimpressed, raises a brow.
“I’m Barty!” He says, perking up.
“You’re Barty.” The Regulus repeats flatly.
“I am.” He straightens his shoulders.
Regulus and Dorcas size him up.
Then, suddenly, a Barty steps right up to his face, eyes narrowed, inspecting him from different angles. After a long pause, the Barty turns to the others.
“That is NOT a Barty. It’s a trick! I don’t know what he’s trying to accomplish, but I say we throw him in the lake!”
Small cheers from the Barties.
“You can’t throw me in the lake—I’m one of you!” Barty-Moody exclaims, exasperated.
“Okay. Prove it. ”
“Fuck off.”
“No, really. Tell us something only a Barty would know.”
“Yeah, and make it juicy ,” Dorcas adds, casually chewing her gum.
He groans. “Give me a minute—I need to think.”
He hates these kids. He didn’t even like them at school. No, never. Always despised them. And now they’re TESTING HIM?! As if he can remember what secrets they shared years ag—
Oh. Bingo.
“I have it!”
“Let’s hear it,” Dorcas chants.
A smirk tugs at his lips.
“This story takes place in October 1974. A young, freshly thirteen-year-old Regulus Black had a brilliant idea— AUGH —”
A hex cuts him off.
“Okay, it’s him,” Regulus says, tucking his wand away.
“Tell the story! I love this one!” Dorcas cheers.
“No one is telling any stories,” another Regulus interjects. “We have serious matters to attend to.”
“Not everything is about you brother, Reg.” An Evan says, casually.
Everyone turns, startled.
“How long have you been here?!” Barty-Moody demands.
“Just got here.” Evan shrugs.
“Well… leave. ”
“Oh, come on, Moody! Let him stayyy!” A Barty mock-begs.
Barty-Moody shoots him a look.
“You know that’s not Moody, right?” Evan says flatly.
Everyone freezes.
“You heard? ” Barty-Moody asks, panicked.
“No. I see. ” Evan enunciates every syllable slowly.
“You see? ” Dorcas echoes.
“Yeah. Can’t you tell? He moves just like Barty. And he’s way too much of an idiot to be the Great Mad-Eye Moody.”
Barty-Moody pales. “Can… can all Evans tell?”
Evan considers it. “No, I don’t think so.” Then he turns to leave.
“WAIT—waitwaitwait. Since you know , you can help me! What should I do?!” Barty-Moody pleads.
Evan glances back. “Just come clean, mate. It’s utter chaos in there anyway—no one’s gonna care that you’re not really Moody.”
And with that, he strolls off, completely unbothered.
xxx
“Moody! You’re back! Do you need to talk to anyone else? The Siriuses and Jameses are busy right now, but anyone else is up for grabs,” Lily says cheerfully.
“What is happening? It was chaos in here minutes ago!” Moody exclaims, looking around.
“Oh, but you asked us to pair people up, so we are!” She gestures around her.
All the tables have vanished, and everyone (except the Jameses and Siriuses) stands with their backs against the walls.
In the middle of the room, all the Siriuses are gathered in a large circle, while the Jameses form a smaller one inside of it.
“What—how?” Moody starts, but trails off, at a loss for words.
“Well, it’s simple, really. We found out that the only people who can recognize each other are James and Sirius. How? We don’t know. But they can tell each other apart, so—”
Lily starts walking around the circles, motioning for Moody to follow.
“We line them up. The Jameses just stand there, but when a whistle blows, all the Siriuses move one step to the right. They get approximately thirty seconds to look each other in the eye, then tell us if they’re from the same universe.”
A few other Lilys are scattered around, equipped with whistles, timers, and clipboards.
“And this works?” Moody asks.
“So far,” Lily answers, shrugging. “Once they’re paired up, they leave the circles and start working on the wall lines. That takes a bit longer because they actually have to talk to each other.”
Moody looks confused.
Lily sighs and explains further, “Maybe a Sirius can find a Remus or a Regulus through conversation, and then that Regulus can find an Evan, and so on. See?”
“Indeed,” Moody mutters.
“This doesn’t make any sense!” a James suddenly yells. “Sirius Black is EVIL! He’s in Slytherin, for Merlin’s sake!”
“I have him!” A Sirius chimes in, holding the arm of the Sirius next to him high in the air, though he’s clearly struggling.
“Great! You two, off to the side!” Lily orders. She turns back to Moody. “See? Perfect system.”
She smiles at him, but then—his face starts to change. Something underneath is replacing it, shifting, morphing. Seconds later, a man—who is not Mad-Eye Moody—stands before her.
“Polyjuice?!” she gasps.
The man smiles at her apologetically.
It was Polyjuice. Polyjuice, Polyjuice! Mad-Eye Moody is not here. Nobody with any authority is. She is the one in charge. It was Polyjuice. And she is the one who’s expected to deal with this.
“Who are you?” she starts, then quickly shakes her head. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. Just leave.”
“What? Why?”
“Because this is the most organized it’s been all day, and it only happened because people believe Moody has the answers.”
“But people won’t know I used to be Moody,” the man counters.
“But I don’t want to look at you right now,” Lily says flatly. “Just go.”
She turns on her heel, walking quickly away. Everything crashes over her at once.
They have spent all day trying to find a solution, and they have nothing . She’s out of ideas, and she doesn’t even have the energy to care because she feels so raw . All the stories she’s heard, all the scars she’s seen today.
There is a dead Regulus Black in her bedroom.
And hell—she almost killed a man today.
She needs a distraction. She cannot break down now.
“Hey, hey, hey,” an arm catches hers. “What’s going on?”
It’s Marlene.
“Nothing, I’m just—” She takes a deep breath. “A bit stressed.”
Marlene pulls her into a tight hug. Lily is surprised at first, but quickly relaxes, letting herself melt into her friend’s arms.
“Are you my Marlene?” she whispers.
“Right now, I am,” Marlene answers.
And that’s exactly what Lily needs to hear. She is so sick of sorting through her friends in a bureaucratic manner, of people telling her she’s the wrong Lily, of hearing how she and everyone she loves dies over and over again, of being threatened for being with her boyfriend. She’s sick of it.
Her entire body is shaking, and she feels lightheaded. If it wasn’t for Marlene, she’s pretty sure she’d be on the ground.
“Tell me what’s racing in there,” Marlene says, tapping Lily’s forehead.
“But I need to—” Lily gestures toward the James/Sirius circle.
“I think they can manage for two minutes. Half of the people in here are you, you know.”
Lily deflates a little. “I think all the horrible stories are getting to me,” she admits, feeling tears prick at her eyes.
Marlene nods, understanding. “Yeah, me too. I think it’s getting to everyone.”
“There’s just so much death in this room. Just look .” She gestures toward the circle in the middle of the room. “Do you see how there are so many more Siriuses than Jameses?”
And she’s right. Now, there are three Siriuses for every one James. The room seems to have noticed, too—a heavy blanket of discomfort has settled over them.
“They’re—we’re all so young ,” Lily murmurs. “It isn’t right, Marls. Look around. Where are all the forty-year-old Lilys who are happy?”
Marlene, now misty-eyed too, puts an arm around her. They stand there in silence, letting the devastating fates of everyone they love sink in.
“You know what we should do?” Marlene says suddenly.
Lily looks at her and shakes her head.
“We should walk around the room and let people tell us the happy stuff.”
“The happy stuff?” Lily sniffs.
“Yeah! Who they love, happy memories, all that! Everything that gets lost in the cold collection of data.”
Lily nods, determined. “Okay. Happy statistics.”
xxx
The air in the Great Hall is heavy. Everyone is tired, weighed down by exhaustion and the collective weight of everything they’ve learned today.
After pairing everyone up, they’d held a second round of open mic—this time meant to help Moody gather all the information he’d need to fix things.
Except, Moody was gone .
Turns out, he’d never actually been here at all—it had been a Barty the whole time.
In his absence, a Regulus had stepped up, pointing out the obvious: they had no idea how far this thing reached. For all they knew, there could be multiple Voldemorts gathering somewhere right now, plotting to kill them all.
A terrifying thought, but at this point, it seemed like everyone was desensitized to the idea of their premature death.
The Great Hall feels hollow. The floating candles flicker dimly, casting long shadows over the restless bodies scattered across the room. Some people sit in small groups, whispering, while others stare blankly ahead, too drained to do anything else. The weight of too many versions of themselves hangs over them like a suffocating fog.
James has had one hell of a day, and frankly, he’s exhausted. His head is pounding—like his brain is swollen inside his skull. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone. The whole pairing people up ordeal left a sour taste in his mouth, and honestly?
All he wants to do is crawl into a ball and cry.
But before he can do that, there’s someone he has to check on.
If he feels like this, he can only imagine how Lily must feel.
It’s been hours since he’s seen her—or, well, he’s seen versions of her all over the place, but not his Lily.
So he forces his aching legs to move, weaving through the Great Hall in search of her—until the sharp tap of a microphone freezes him in place.
A wave of groans ripples through the room.
No. No, please, no more.
James groans along with them. He doesn’t want more information. He cannot take more information.
Reluctantly, he glances at the stage.
This time, it’s a Remus.
James squints, trying to place him. Has he spoken to this one before? He looks about twenty—but so do most of them . He’s long since lost track.
“Hi, everyone…” Remus says, voice hesitant. “Sorry to disturb you. I know we’re all tired, I just—there’s something we have to take into consideration.”
James sways slightly. Dizzy.
Have they eaten today? He doesn’t think so.
That’s insane.
This room is filled with deeply unstable people, and James does not want to see them hungry. Maybe he should head to the kitchens—there has to be something he can bring back.
On stage, Remus is still talking.
“…It’s just—the full moon is only a few days away, so… we kind of have a deadline to figure this out.”
James snaps to attention.
The full moon.
How could he have forgotten?
He needs to find Remus.
- Find Lily.
- Find Remus.
Oh, but he’s so tired.
How long has he been awake? He woke up early for Quidditch practice—it must be past midnight by now. That’s what… nineteen hours?
His body screams at him to sit down, but—No. He has things to do.
“You look awful,” a voice says beside him, an arm slipping around his waist to steady him.
“Oh, Pandora, you have no idea,” James sighs, too relieved to have someone holding him up to notice who it is.
Until it hits him.
“Pandora?!”
A burst of energy shocks through him, exhaustion momentarily forgotten. He stares at her, wide-eyed.
She just smiles in that slightly absent-minded way of hers.
“Where have you been?! People have been looking for you!” James blurts.
“Well,” Pandora says lightly, “I had to figure out what was going on with all of you.”
James's mind races. He has a thousand questions. He doesn’t even know where to start.
“Are there multiple versions of you too?” he asks finally.
Pandora tilts her head. “Yes and no.”
“Dora, please, I cannot handle riddles right now—”
“PANDORA!”
Evan’s voice cuts him off as he practically swoops his sister into a hug.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Evan exclaims. “Have you seen all of this?!” He gestures wildly around them.
Pandora laughs softly. “Yes, I’ve seen it.” Her smile doesn’t falter as she adds, “I did it.”
James and Evan freeze.
Evan’s smile disappears. James feels his stomach drop.
“…You did this?” Evan asks, his voice sour.
Pandora keeps smiling. “Yes and no,” she says again. “Don’t worry—I’ll do my best to explain.”