The Wrong Twin

64

A/N: This takes place somewhat in between the second and third task.

Harry woke up to a mess. Literally.

The dorm room was messed up, like a tornado just passed by recently. Clothes were being thrown around, Harry even spotted Blaise's sock on Draco's bedside table. How it got there he did not know. And he rather not.

He spotted the culprits in front of their giant cupboard, rifling through the hundreds of clothes in there.

"What in Merlin's beard are you guys doing?" Harry asked, sitting up on his bed. Casting a silent Tempus, he realized, that it was just a few minutes after sunrise. 

The three of them froze on the spot, slowly turning around to face Harry, guilty smiles plastered on their faces. 

When they began to sputter out nonsense, that's when Harry knew, that he had no energy to deal with them this early in the morning. He sighed, running a hand through his messy black hair. 

"Actually stop. I don't want to hear another word for another few minutes." Harry said, effectively cutting off Draco's explanation. He realized that today was a Hogwarts day, and that was probably the reason why his dormmates are obsessed with getting ready and looking good.

After a few seconds of peace (finally), he pulled himself out of bed silently mourning over the loss of his warm bed. 

Stumbling into the bathroom, his fingers gripped the edges of the cold porcelain sink, giving the mirror a quick glance. His hair was all messed up, and the glamour fell away revealing the dark eye bags from sleepless nights when he was too busy thinking about the third and final task.

Not to mention the constant planning with Tom that lasted late until mornings. He even was visited by Death himself in his dreams. Warning him to slow down, that his body was slowly giving up.

And Harry being Harry, ignored the warnings.

He quickly got changed into an outfit that was suitable for a Hogsmeade trip. Brushing his hair with the comb that he gotten from his parents a few weeks back, he decided on his agenda for the day.

The third task is coming up, and Tom still needs further help with his planning. The 'Dark Lord' is supposed to be having a meeting tonight, so whatever schoolwork that's due tomorrow has to be done by the day. A Hogsmeade trip typically last till 5 in the evening, giving him just enough time to finish everything for the day before leaving Hogwarts.

Just then, a knock on the bathroom door appeared. He quickly threw on a glamour on himself, hiding the dark secrets of his life. "Are you done yet? Draco's in a mood, because he can't do his morning routine."

There was the sound of yelping from the other side of the door. When he opened the door, he witnessed a brutal murder, Theo being the victim and Draco as the murderer. 

"Draco, you're my best friend and all, but I do think this is a bit too far don't you think? I mean, if you strangle him just right it'd be a quicker death than hitting him with your fists." He said, sending a smirk at the betrayed look on Theo.

They should've known Harry would always be on Draco's side no matter the situation. The two were inseparable, friends till death. 

Before the room became into a larger mess, Harry slipped away through the open door, gently closing it behind him. He hummed as he made his way towards the living room, feeling refreshed from the bath. 

A soft voice at the back of his head kept on reminding on the tasks that he had yet to complete. But he ignored it. After all, during the day, Harry was just Harry. Not the future heir of the Dark. Just Harry.

A grin found its way towards his face when his eyes landed on Daphne Greengrass. 

~

The two strolled down the familiar streets of Hogsmeade, occasionally stopping at certain shops to take a look at the products being displayed in front of the window. 

After a few hours of non-stop window shopping, they decided to take a break. As they entered the Three Broomsticks, the loud chatter of other students and residents greeted them. 

"What can I get for you two?" Madam Rosmerta, the owner of the pub, asked them as they took a seat in a quiet place, in the corner. 

"Two butterbeers please." Daphne answered, passing a few sickles to her. 

A few minutes later, Madam Rosmerta came back with the two butterbeers and left the two to their own shenanigans.

"So how's your life?" The blonde asked, taking a long sip from her own bottle.

Harry nodded slowly, stirring the butterbeer. How much he wished that he'd be drinking real beer now, but the pub don't sell it to students younger than the 7th years. 

"It's great. A little bit busy from the Tournament and all."

Daphne nodded, seeming to understand... or at least trying to understand the situation Harry is in. 

Sometimes he wonders what would happen if he wasn't born a Potter, would he still be in this same dilemma he is in right now? Would he still be active in taking down the light side? Would he even have an older brother that can take care of him like Tom? Or even a girlfriend like Daphne?

What if Merlin had never saved him? What if he was left with the Dursleys, and from what he heard during Sirius's occasional (monthly) screaming matches with the Potter Head, the Dursleys hated magic. 

As much as Harry would want to dwell on this question, he still has to drag himself back to reality. After all, he still has to meet up with Tom tonight for a meeting. Or something. 

He glanced at the big giant clock hanging onto the wall of the Three Broomsticks. 3 more hours before he has to leave. 

He can be Harry for 3 more hours.