Parallel

Harry sets up camp in the furthest corner of the Common Room and gets a roll of parchment and a quill out. He begins jotting down everyting he’s learned about this bizarre world so far and his various theories for how he got here, unconsciously warring everyone off from approaching him with a steadily deepening scowl on his face. 

When he’s accumulated about twenty inches of notes, Harry puts his quill down and flexes his stiff fingers with a grimace. He looks over his scribbles with a sigh. Each one of his theories is as outrageous as the rest. But the truth is, not even this world’s Remus, not even Dumbledore, has any idea about how he’s ended up here. 

And more importantly, he thinks bitterly, feeling the familiar prickle of tears sting at the corner of his eyes. They have no idea how to get me back. 

”Looking awfully lonely there…” 

Harry looks up in surprise, but there’s no-one there. 

”Up here, boy…”

Turning his head, Harry looks up at the portrait on the wall behind him. 

”…’lo there”, the grumpy old man in the painting says and gives him a half-hearted little wave. 

”Hello”, Harry says heavily. 

”Ohh… It’s like that, is it?” the portrait says and nods gravely, but there’s an unmistakable twinkle in his eyes and Harry bristles. 

Why do adults always do that? he thinks sourly. Just because they’ve been through it all before, doesn’t change the fact that it still sucks to be a kid sometimes. 

”Romantic woes, perhaps?”

”No, it’s not actually!”

”Oh-ho, I say—”

”Well, don’t”, Harry snaps. ”Don’t say anything. Mind your own sodding business.”

”Right you are…” the grisly old wizard says curtly and promptly goes back to ignoring Harry. 

”Stupid, meddling Gryffindors…” Harry grouses. 

”Quite”, the portrait says a little surly. ”Except I am not a Gryffindor and I challenge anyone to spot any of the asinine qualities they pride themselves on in me—”

Harry frowns and opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, another old wizard appears in the portrait, carrying a chessboard with trembling hands. 

”What are you wittering on about now, you old coot?” he asks the other wizard in the portrait. ”As if anyone would mistake you for brave—”

”Reckless and pig-headed, you mean? I should hope not!”

”Oh, keep your cleft tongue in your head and pick a colour!” the second wizard snaps good-naturedly and plops the chessboard down on the table. 

”Wait…” Harry says. ”You’re a Slytherin?”

”I believe I have been asked to mind my own sodding business”, the portrait says snippily. 

”Yes”, the second wizard says in a long-suffering voice. ”He is.”

”But… What are you doing in the Gryffindor Common Room then?” Harry asks curiously. 

”For my sins”, the second wizard quips, earning a filthy look from the first. 

”Wait, this is your portrait?” Harry smiles. ”And you… you’re just visiting?”

”You talk like you’re a stranger to the Wizarding World…” the Slytherin wizard says, squinting suspiciously at Harry. ”Are you a mu— ggle-born?”

”No”, Harry shakes his head. ”I’m just… not from around here.”

”Ah. Foreigner.” the wizard nods to himself. 

”I know about portraits”, Harry says, bringing them back on topic. ”I just don’t know about any Slytherins who are friends with Gryffindors. That’s all.”

”Oh…” the Gryffindor wizard’s beard twitches a little with amusement, as he gazes over at his friend. ”It happens.”

”We are not friends.”

Harry raises his eyebrows in surprise when the Gryffindor wizard simply chuckles fondly. 

”Seriously though”, he tells Harry then. ”It took a few centuries, but once we started paying attention to the things we had in common, rather than the things we didn’t, we started getting along quite well… He thinks so, too… He’s just a bit of a stubborn grump, is all.”

”Shut your face, you demented old fool. Are we doing this, or what?” the Slytherin wizard grouses, indicating the chessboard. 

Harry smiles a little. He sits watching the chess game for a moment, but grows bored after a while and being so obviously ignored is making him feel lonely. He looks around forlornly, wishing his friends were here… His heart skips a beat when he spots Seamus across the room, but he quickly reminds himself that this is not his friend Seamus, but some weird Gryffindor version of him. 

Still, Harry thinks. Maybe he’s not that bad. Or the others.

He looks over at Longbottom, Thomas and the Weasley girl. She is in the middle of telling the boys a story that has them all cracking up. 

Painfully aware that he might be stuck in this world for a while, Harry debates with himself whether he should make more of an effort with the Gryffindors. But before he’s made his mind up, the Portrait Hole opens and Ron and Granger climb through it. Harry watches the pair cut across the Common Room to sit down with the others and feels a twinge of longing at seeing their camaraderie with each other. 

Taking a deep breath, he gathers up his things and walks over. 

They all look up at him in surprise, but there’s no hostility in their faces. Harry takes another deep breath and then smiles tentatively. 

”Hey…” he says. 

”Hi Harry!” Granger says happily. ”Want to join us?”

”Yeah”, Harry lets out a breath of relief. ”Thanks…” 

He slumps down on the nearest available surface gratefully, aware that he’s hugging his book bag to his chest and quickly puts it down on the floor next to his feet. Granger smiles kindly at him. 

”Did you just get back from the Hospital Wing?” he asks, looking between her and Ron politely and they nod. ”How… How are you feeling?”

”Fine, thank you”, Granger says. ”How are you?”

As innocently sunny as the girl’s face might be, beaming back at him, Harry is still aware that this is a loaded question. Glancing around at the others faces, he can tell that they’re all trying very hard to appear casual — and Longbottom is even failing at it, wringing his hands nervously. 

”I’m… Okay…” Harry says slowly. 

”Mate…” Ron says heavily and slumps forward in his seat to pin Harry with a serious but sincere look and Harry feels his hackles go up. ”I told them… I’m sorry, but… It was just… Too crazy, you know?”

”Yeah…” Harry croaks, feeling a faint buzz inside his head. 

”I didn’t know if I was supposed to keep it secret, no-one told me”, the red-haired boy adds a little defensively and Harry nods. ”But I only told Hermione — and now these guys — but that’s it, I swear.”

”I… Yeah, that’s… That’s fine…” Harry nods a little nervously. 

A wave of relief seems to pass through the group. 

”Is it true, though?” the Weasley girl asked in a hushed voice, also leaning forward towards Harry. ”You’re not really you?”

”Well, I’m me, I’m just not… who you think I am, I guess…” Harry says awkwardly. ”I don’t know how it happened, all I know is that everyhing in this world is somehow wrong. Although, I get that it’s actually me that’s wrong. I’m in the wrong place. The wrong… world, I guess.”

The others’ eyes are round as saucers by the time he’s finished talking. He huffs out a small chuckle and rubs the back of his neck. 

”It is crazy, isn’t it…” he mumbles. 

”Mate, that’s the understatement of the year!” Ron blurts out. 

”Yeah…” Harry chuckles. 

As if a spell has been broken, the whole group starts laughing and Harry finds himself really relaxing for the first time since he woke up in this world. 

”I’m sure Dumbledore will figure it out”, Hermione says decisively a while later, after he’s shared some of his theories with them. 

She even gives him a comforting pat on his arm and, although the girl clearly has more faith in the Headmaster than Harry would normally have, he finds the gesture reassuring and smiles at her.

*

Ever since Professor McGonagall called his name and he walked up to get Sorted at the start of Year One, there hasn’t really been a time in Harry’s life at Hogwarts when he wasn’t followed by a chorus of whispers whereever he went or constantly aware of a lot of turning heads in his peripheral. But it never stops being irritating. 

At least now he’s not completely alone anymore. But as cool as the Gryffindors have all turned out to be, Harry still wishes he was with his own friends. And especially Draco. 

Although, Harry thinks, glancing over at the blonde across the Transfigurations classroom. It’s definitely not a great feeling to be in the crossfire of this Draco. 

Harry has always found this side of Draco less appealing, mostly because this is when the boy reminds Harry of his father Lucius. But it’s more than that now. The constantly scowling is making Draco less attractive to Harry as well. He misses the soft look in his boyfriend’s face, the twinkling silver of his eyes and the loving smile… Feeling a sinking in his stomach, Harry glances back over to the group of Slytherins and frowns. He misses his boyfriend, and he is getting seriously fed up with this haughty, sneering bully of a boy. 

As if sensing Harry’s eyes on him, Draco looks up and their eyes lock. There is brief moment of surprise in the blonde’s face that makes him look a little less haughty and a little more like the boy Harry fell in love with, but it’s quickly replaced by a thunderous scowl and Harry sighs and looks away again. 

”Potter!” the Slytherin barks, but Harry ignores him and focuses his attention back to the fluttering owl in front of him. ”What’s your problem? Potter!”

Taking a deep breath, Harry gently strokes the owl’s feathers and focuses, Strigiforma… Strigiforma…

”Hey, Potter—” Draco’s voice says sharply, a little closer. 

Harry whips his head around to see the other boy halfway across the classroom and scowls back at him. 

”What?” he snaps. 

”I said, what’s your problem!” the blonde demands and stops right next to Harry’s desk, slamming his hands down on it. 

Harry quickly reigns his startled owl back in and soothes it with jerky movements, all the while glaring angrily at Draco. 

”You”, he bites out. 

”Excuse me—?”

”You are my problem!”

Harry shoots to his feet and Draco jerks back from him with such speed he nearly trips over his own feet. Harry keeps glaring at him furiously, breathing heavily and counting backwards from five, as the blonde blinks owlishly at him. 

”Gentlemen!” Professor McGonagall’s shrill voice rings out in the tense silence of the classroom. ”What is the meaning of this — Mister Malfoy, kindly return to your seat, immediately! — Mister Potter, relax your grip on that owl, before it explodes!”

Draco shakes himself out of his stupor and mumbles an apology to the Professor, then quickly makes his way back to his own desk. Harry feels the tension drain out of his body again and slumps back into his seat. The owl is glaring up at him and he starts stroking its feathers again. 

”Sorry”, he mutters under his breath. 

The owl hoots in reproach. 

Harry keeps his head down for the rest of the lesson, managing to turn one of the owl’s wings into a temple tip and getting a grudging nod of approval from McGonagall as he hands it in at the end of the lesson. Glancing around, he’s not surprised to see that Granger has managed to transfigure her whole owl, walking up to the teacher’s desk with a perfect pair of glasses. He is, however, surprised to see that Draco’s glasses are flapping a pair of wings still. 

He hurries out of the classroom before the blonde catches him staring again, not feeling up to another confrontation with the other boy. At least it helps him not miss his boyfriend so much…

”Watch it, Scarhead”, the blonde hisses after him as he walks passed him. 

Definitely helps, Harry thinks darkly. 

He decides to join Ron and the others again in the Common Room later that evening. It’s not the same as hanging out with his real friends from Slytherin, but they’re definitely not bad at all, Harry decides. Besides, it seems like this world’s versions of his friends aren’t nearly as cool as he’s used to…

He’s halfway through a game of Wizarding Chess with Ron when Hermione casually mentions Draco approaching her in the library earlier. Ron’s ears go red. 

”Why, what did he want?” he demands. 

”To ask about Harry”, Granger says, just as casually. 

”What?” Harry and Ron say in unison. 

”Yeah, he wanted to know what’s been going on with you, Harry…” Granger says and shrugs. ”I told him, ’you should ask Harry about Harry’ — I wouldn’t hold my breath though, because he looked mortified when I suggested it…” 

She shrugs again and rolls up her finished homework essay swiftly. 

Despite everything that’s happened since Harry woke up in this weird place, even after everything that’s happened with this world’s Draco only earlier today, Harry still gets butterbeer in his stomach and feels a smile tugging at his lips at the mention of the boy asking about him. 

Granger’s eyes dart all over his face and her eyebrow twitches, but Ron is luckily unaware. Harry ducks his head to hide the blush that is clearly breaking out all over his face, but not quickly enough to miss the knowing smirk Granger sends his way. 

”Shuddup”, Harry mutters. 

”Eh?” Ron says. 

”Nothing….”

”What? What did I miss now?”

”Nothing”, Harry says again, shooting Granger a warning look. 

Her smirk curls into a smile, but she simply bats her hair over her shoulder and opens her book. 

”I hate when you do that”, Ron grumbles, glaring between the two of them. 

”It’s nothing”, Harry reiterates. 

He feels a tug of familiarty watching the banter between the two Gryffindors. It reminds him of Pansy and Draco somehow. He feels another tug, this time of longing. Blimey, I even miss Pansy, he thinks. If someone would’ve told me that a year ago, I’d’ve hexed their socks off.