And now?

A monster!

That's what young Harry thought when, with a sinister creak, his closet suddenly opened, revealing an almost perfect copy of himself. If he had observed more closely, he would have noticed subtle differences, such as the fact that he was much less thin, more muscular, a little taller, in short, in much better health. However, all he noticed were the eyes filled with anger of his double turning red when he looked at him.

By a reflex acquired during his previous confrontations with Vernon, Harry tried to curl up further in his cupboard, but he was blocked by the back wall. All of a sudden, Harry felt a sense of unease. The air seemed to have changed consistency, and Petunia let out a horrified scream. Then he heard her run to take shelter upstairs. Despite the suffocating heat in the cupboard on this scorching day, Harry began to shiver. He knew it was impossible, but he was convinced that it was because of the stranger. There was a sort of murderous aura emanating from him.

Without saying a word, the stranger grabbed him by the arm and forcefully pulled him outside. Harry let it happen, knowing that resisting only led to more trouble. Once in full light, the stranger examined him. Harry lowered his eyes and held back his questions while his double decided what he was going to do to him. Unintentionally, he turned his head and saw his uncle sprawled against the wall, half knocked out. So that was the jolt that had convinced him to look through the slats of the closet door, risking attracting the attention of his uncle, who was already alerted by what he thought was Dudley's latest lie. Nevertheless, now he understood that Dudley had probably screamed because the stranger had attacked him and not to get him into trouble.

He will survive. The other Harry said laconically, as he watched with satisfaction the blood slowly oozing from Vernon's head.

He seems to have said that to reassure me, thought Harry, but he did not consider it a reassuring prospect. He found the courage to look up and, in turn, observed his double. In the daylight, the other seemed much less frightening and was visibly making a great effort to calm down. His eyes were now a green similar to his own (although he could still see traces of red in them).

Harry began to think and speculate. Was it possible that he had a twin brother? That he had another family besides the Dursleys? A family ready to welcome him as they seemed to have welcomed his twin brother? Or at least to feed him properly and buy him clothes that fit, judging by his twin's appearance. No, it didn't make sense, Harry thought. If other family members willing to take him in had existed, the Dursleys would have been eager to get rid of him. They would have come to visit him to find out how the Dursleys treated him. Yet he had promised himself not to get his hopes up. But the other Harry wasn't a false hope. He was real and seemed strong enough to protect him from Uncle Vernon. And he had come for him (what other reason could he have had for coming here).

As he wondered how he had managed to defeat Vernon, the answer came to him immediately: his twin also had powers, but he controlled them. Harry then felt a surge of rage and jealousy. Despite all his attempts, he had never been able to voluntarily reproduce the strange phenomena that occurred around him. He barely managed to open the door of his cupboard to steal food at night when he was really hungry. But this jealousy was quickly replaced by a wild hope: his twin could teach him, and then no one would mistreat him anymore. He was really special, and he would soon be able to prove it to all those who had scorned him.

Following his good resolutions, Harry remained silent and watched while waiting for what would happen next. Finally, once the red had completely disappeared from his eyes, the other ordered:

Take your things, we're leaving.

His words filled Harry's heart with joy. He hurried to stuff into his school bag the few toys he had managed to steal from Dudley and his school books before impatiently turning back to the other.

You have nothing else?

Harry nodded his head. He gently took him by the hand and led him outside.

oOoOoOo

How old are we? exclaimed Harry in surprise, looking at his reflection in the train window that would take them to London. He seemed much younger than he remembered.

Little Harry replied to him with a perplexed face.

How old are you? Asked Harry Dursley again.

9 years? His young double replied in a small voice, lowering his eyes.

So he had regained the body of his 9-year-old self. That's why he felt so weird. In another context, learning that he had become over 5 years younger would have shocked him, but in one hour, he had just committed suicide, resurrected, and perhaps killed an evil version of his adoptive father. Indeed, he wasn't entirely convinced that Vernon would recover from his head injury. Nevertheless, he had pretended otherwise to prevent the kid from panicking (except that he was now a kid too). Anyway, there was nothing he could do for Vernon, and every minute spent in his presence increased the risk of losing control of his emotions and finishing off his uncle.

No, he must not think about what had happened. If he did, he risked questioning his own version of Vernon and it was not the time. Without thinking, he had fled that hell taking with him that miserable version of himself. It was only much later that he realized he had forgotten to take money and had no idea what he was going to do.

At that moment, he had felt the weight of the responsibility he had just taken on. Now this child, whom he couldn't assimilate as another version of himself (and it was better for his mental health), depended on him. This time, he couldn't make a mistake. On reflection, it had been the case since he entered the wizarding world, but the hand, far too thin, gripping him as if afraid he would vanish, seemed much more concrete than the millions of lives that had depended on him in the past. Damn, he was only 15 and he was already thinking like a parent.

First of all, I need money, a safe place to spend the night, food, and a wand. Then, I will have plenty of time to think about the situation, thought Harry. So while walking, he devised a plan of action and the first step was to get to London. He didn't have a penny in his pocket to get there, but that was just a detail.

The child followed him without saying anything until the station. This attitude worried him a little. In his place, he would have had a thousand questions. How was he going to manage an abused child? How was he going to manage a child at all? Was he really the right person to take care of him? Was it really a good idea to take him with him? Once again, he postponed his questions for later. Once he was safe, once he understood what he was doing in this world and what had become of Voldemort, there would still be time to abandon him at the nearest police station.

Once at the counter, he stared at the clerk and asked while handing over a piece of paper picked up from the ground:

Two tickets to London, please?

Thanks to the little magic of the mind he had learned from Snape and Voldemort's lessons (even today, he doesn't know which of the two was more unpleasant), he was able to confuse the cashier enough for her to hand him a ticket without asking further questions.

He passed through the automatic gate to wait for the train. His double still said nothing, but seemed relieved by this stop. Harry hadn't paid attention to him, but he had apparently struggled to keep up with his pace. And he was as white as a sheet. He immediately linked it to his frightening thinness, which was noticeable despite clothes that were far too large for him. He wondered how long it had been since he had eaten and berated himself for not having thought of it sooner. He looked around and found a vending machine where you could buy disgusting vacuum-packed sandwiches and some snacks.

Are you hungry?

No, it's fine. His double replied, in a small voice, looking everywhere except in the direction of the dispenser.

After a brief hesitation, Harry Dursley declared:

Okay, but while we have time, I'll get some for when you get hungry. What do you want?

His double gave him a wary look and saliva began to speak from his mouth. With a finger, he pointed to a simple ham sandwich. Harry concentrated to make it fall from the dispenser and added a chocolate bar that he handed to the boy. To his great surprise, he realized he was exhausted and sweating profusely. He knew that wandless magic was a demanding art that many adult wizards were incapable of. But they had not been possessed by a dark lord determined to stop at nothing to increase their host's magical power. Harry Dursley was convinced that it shouldn't have exhausted him so much. Besides, he felt that using magic had required less effort with the Dursleys. He gave up thinking about this puzzle for the moment and gave this meager meal to his double. His own hunger could wait. The radiant look he received convinced him that he had made the right decision.

Finally, the train arrived, and after recovering from his shock at seeing his reflection in the window, he settled into an empty compartment of the train. Not knowing what to say to his double and especially not knowing if it was really a good idea to talk to him until he had clearer thoughts, Harry Dursley looked at the landscape, then unintentionally fell asleep. His last thought before closing his eyes was that it was strange he was so tired.

Two hours later, he was awakened by whistles and honking noises. He saw that the train had reached its terminus: London. Not knowing how long he had slept and how long the train had been there, he quickly got up, afraid that the train might leave again. So quickly that he did not notice that his double had taken advantage of his sleep to snuggle up against him.

oOoOoOo

Author's note: this Harry is heavily inspired by the one from the fanficSourire But, considerezThe archetype of all fics where Harry is severely mistreated by the Dursleys and then rescued by another character (usually Snape or Black) who helps him recover.

That said, I don't know if I would recommend you read it. Not only because it is not finished and probably never will be, but especially because at the beginning, itdescribes extreme violence against young Harry that almost made me stop reading.