It was a bitterly cold winter day. Yet still, London was crowded with what seemed to be thousands of people, their noses red with cold but faces lit up with excitement. There were stalls at the side of the road selling snacks and glow-sticks for children. Many glanced at the old clock, Big Ben, in anticipation for it to strike twelve. When it did, it would be the start of a brand new year.
“Are they really going to send colorful sparks up into the sky?” Mr. Weasley asked, his eyes darting everywhere at the sight of so many unusual things. He had even stopped to point at an ordinary popcorn machine while popcorn bounced around inside.
“Yes, they’re called fireworks, Mr. Weasley.” Hermione said patiently, and then continued to explain how they worked.
But Harry wasn’t listening anymore. In fact, he didn’t even want to be here. Mrs. Weasley had announced to the entire family a few days ago (including Harry, Hermione, and Angelina, who was now going out with George) that it was necessary for all of them to have some time out and enjoy the new year’s event. Harry had tried making up an excuse so that he didn’t have to go, but everyone had insisted so much that he didn’t have a choice.
The truth was, Harry had pretty much disappeared after the battle. He had stayed at the Burrow for a few weeks but then rented a flat in muggle London. Apart from the weekly visits with the Weasleys, he hadn’t spoken or met with anyone.
“Harry,” Ginny said, who was holding his arms and scrutinizing him. “Are you even going to try enjoying yourself?”
“I am enjoying myself.” he lied easily.
Ginny looked at him wearily for a moment. “You know what, Harry? I’m tired of you sulking all the time. You never even try to lighten up anymore, and I miss the old Harry; the one who used to make me laugh. But now…you’re not yourself anymore.” she said.
“What are you talking about?” he snapped, and instantly regretted it. He never snapped at Ginny.
She gave Harry a cold glare and stopped walking. “Fine. Be that way. But don’t bother talking to me again until you stop sulking and being so miserable.” And with that, she quickly walked up front to where Ron and Hermione were.
“Ginny—wait!” he called after her, but she ignored him.
Harry suddenly felt angrier and more miserable. He hated to admit that Ginny was—partially—correct. He hadn’t smiled or laughed in ages, much less been a joy to be around. Even Ron and Hermione had given up on trying to cheer Harry up. They had decided to give him space, which he was thankful for, as it was exactly what he wanted.
“He’s always ignoring everyone and never stops sulking!” Harry heard Ginny say to Ron and Hermione.
“Maybe he just needs more time…you know what he’s been through, Ginny.” Hermione said gently.
“He’s had plenty of time! Everyone’s almost recovered after the war except for him!” Ginny said angrily.
Ron stayed silent, probably because he didn’t want to upset his little sister or his girlfriend.
Harry tuned the three of them out while they discussed him; he wondered if they even knew he was listening. Whatever—it’s wasn’t as if they understood. He knew that if he hadn’t gone to Hogwarts that day, the battle would never have happened. So many lives would have been saved…and what if Harry had never existed? His mother and father wouldn’t have died for him, or Sirius, or Dobby, or Mad-Eye…the list was endless.
The Weasleys had found a good spot to stand and wait, so Angelina was now dragging George to the nearest coffee stall. Ron and Hermione were bickering, as usual, and Ginny was busy ignoring Harry.
He stuffed his cold, numb hands in his pockets and checked the clock—it was still ten. He mentally groaned. All he wanted was for that stupid clock to strike twelve so that he could apparate back to his flat and be alone.
A few moments later, Harry decided that he couldn’t stand Ginny ignoring him or listening to Ron and Hermione bickering any longer. He walked up to Mr. Weasley and politely asked if he could take a short walk. Mr. Weasley, who was surprised at the fact that he was actually talking at his own will, allowed him to.
Glad to escape them all, he pushed himself through the packed crowds and crossed the road. He ended up in a quiet street lined with neat, plain houses. The street greatly resembled Privet Drive.
Harry tried to clear his mind—just this once—but failed. He had always been rubbish at Occlumency, after all. There was simply too much on his mind. Out of frustration, he kicked a pile of snow.
He hated the guilt that weighed him down every minute of the day. He ignored the people who told him that the battle wasn’t his fault—he knew better. They were all wrong. All those deaths, even before the battle, were his fault. If he had never been born…none of those people would have died.
Lost in thought, Harry bumped into a stranger wearing a black coat and a hood.
“Sorry,” Harry said, still surprised at the stranger’s presence. He could have sworn there wasn’t anybody on this street just a few moments ago…
“Nah, ‘s my fault. Should’ve been watching where I was going…” the strangers’ hoarse voice was so familiar, it startled Harry.
Without another word, Harry continued down the sidewalk while the stranger went in the opposite direction. But a few minutes later, he heard footsteps behind him. Turning around, he saw that it was the hooded stranger—was he following him?
Alarmed, Harry grasped his wand in his coat pocket. The stranger was creepy enough with his hood, so the last thing Harry wanted was to be followed by him…
“Do you need something?” Harry asked the stranger irritably.
“No, just taking a stroll…” he replied.
Harry continued walking, deciding that when he was out of sight from the stranger, he would apparate.
The stranger was catching up to him now, so Harry quickened his walk. But the stranger seemed to be faster—he could not out-walk him. Alarmed and irritated, Harry finally stopped.
“Why are you following me?” he demanded.
“I just need to do my job and I’ll be out of your way before you know it, Harry.” the stranger replied.
Harry was taken aback by the fact that the stranger knew his name. “How do you know my name?” he demanded once more.
The stranger merely laughed. “Of course I know your name. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Look, I don’t even know you! What do you have anything to do with me?” Harry asked.
The stranger chuckled. “Oh, you do know me, Harry. But I can’t tell you who I am. I’ve just got to do my job here on Earth and I’ll be on my way back.” he said sadly.
“So you’re a spirit?” Harry smirked. This stranger was trying to make a fool of him—it was some kind of trick.
“That’s right.” the stranger said.
“I don’t believe you.” Harry said stubbornly.
“You’re just as stubborn as I remember. And well, I’ve got to admit, I have been watching you quite a bit up there, but let’s get to why I’m here.”
Harry noticed that when the stranger said “up there” he pointed to the clouds.
“Anywho, I’m your Guardian Angel.” the stranger said, grimacing at the word “angel.”
“Of course you are,” Harry said sarcastically, deciding to play along with this joke and be prepared for some kind of attack when he least expected it.
“I’m here because of your wish—if I recall correctly, you wished that you had never been born?” the Guaridan Angel said.
“Yes…but I didn’t say it out loud…” Harry said uneasily. Could this person read minds?
“Now tell me Harry, is that what you truly want?” the Guardian Angel asked calmly.
“Yeah, that is what I want.” Harry said without thinking.
“Why is that so?” he asked.
“Because…if I had never been born, nobody would have had to die for me. My parents, my godfather, Mad-Eye, Remus, Tonks, and Fred…” he said, stopping as he felt his eyes get wet.
“Well then, say your wish out loud. Go on.” the Guardian Angel said serenely.
“I WISH I WAS NEVER BORN!” Harry said, letting out all of the anger and grief he had been keeping to himself.
And the next thing he knew, the Guardian Angel had shoved Harry face-first into a pile of snow.
Harry saw nothing but white. Sputtering, his face wet and cold, he got up. “What was that for?” he shouted, wiping his snow-covered glasses with the hem of his coat.
“See for yourself,” the Guardian Angel said, gesturing towards his surroundings. It was then Harry realized that he was no longer in the quiet London neighborhood—instead, he seemed to be in a damaged village.
“Where are we?” Harry asked, panicking. Had he apparated here without knowing?
“We’re in Godric’s Hollow.” The Guardian Angel said simply.
“No, this can’t be Godric’s Hollow.” Harry said. He had been here just a year ago, and it most certainly didn’t look like this.
“Yes it is. This is what Godric’s Hollow would have looked like if you had never been born.” he replied.
“But what happened here?” Harry asked, awestruck at the damage that had been done to the small town.
“It was ambushed by Death Eaters, they burned down the village because of its history, what with Godric Gryffindor himself living here, the Peverells, and it being Albus Dumbledore’s hometown… basically, they did it just because they could.” The Guardian Angel said.
“And there are Death Eaters because nobody stopped Voldemort…right?” Harry said uneasily, the truth sinking in.
“Correct.” The Guardian Angel said.
Harry was silent. One of the most obvious effects of him not existing…Voldemort being as powerful as he could get.
“Come on, I’ve got to show you something else.” he said, grabbing his shoulder. Harry closed his eyes and waited, experiencing a sensation that felt like floating, then landing softly on the ground. When he opened his eyes, he saw that he was in a small graveyard. There weren’t many headstones, just a lot of old, gnarled and splintery trees. The most prominent headstone was the marble one, which seemed to be the newest.
“Welcome to Changleton’s Graveyard, where The Chosen One Lies.” The Guardian Angel said.
“What?” Harry asked, confused.
“The Prophecy pointed to two boys. And with you not existing, it only lead to one instead…”
“Neville.” Harry said in disbelief. He examined the small headstone that read: The One with the power to defeat the Dark Lord lies here. And underneath: Neville Longbottom: 1980-1981.
“He died as a baby, the poor child. His entire family was killed. Alice was killed before Neville was, thus unable to sacrifice herself for her son, which she would have surely done. But remember, Harry, Voldemort was told to spare your mum, which is why she had time…”
Harry had a sickening feeling in his stomach. If there was one person who didn’t deserve to die, it was Neville Longbottom…
“Come on, or next destination awaits.” The Guardian Angel said, grabbing onto Harry’s shoulder. Once again he experienced the strange floating sensation, and found himself in front of the Burrow. Harry felt a huge wave of relief—the Burrow, the one place that came closest to feeling like home.
But as he looked closer, he realized that something seemed wrong. The windows were cracked, the wood seemed weak and worn-down, and there were no gnomes running around in the garden. In fact, the Burrow seemed vacant.
“Follow me,” The Guardian Angel said grimly, leading him into the house.
Inside there were no pictures of happy red-heads or Quidditch equipment laying around. No knitting needles on the coffee table and certainly no sign of the Weasleys.
“Is anyone here?” Harry asked, desperately hoping for a response. Nobody answered.
“There’s no one here, let’s just leave—” Harry hastened, trying to return to the front door. He had a bad feeling about whatever the Guardian Angel was about to show him.
“Not so fast, Harry,” The Guardian Angel said, grabbing his arm. He led the way to the kitchen, which smelled strongly of garbage, rust, and mold. There were dishes in the sink that seemed as if they hadn’t been cleaned in ages.
“Molly?” The Guardian Angel said.
Sure enough, there was Molly Weasley, sitting in the corner. She looked ill and weak, and seemed to have aged twenty years. Her face was pale and her eyes were wide open, staring into nothingness. She was talking to herself, and was completely unaware that two people had just entered her house.
“Mrs. Weasley?” Harry asked nervously.
Her eyes flickered to where Harry was. “Have you come to take me too? Take me, then. Just show me my children one last time...” she pleaded.
Harry ignored her plead. “Mrs. Weasley, don’t you remember me? It’s me, Harry! Ron’s friend from school!” he said, hoping she would recognize him.
But only one word seemed to have registered in Mrs. Weasley’s mind. “Ron? You know where my Ronald is? Oh, my dear, precious, Ron…where is he? TELL ME WHERE HE IS!” she shouted.
Harry was frightened. He glanced at the Gaurdian Angel, who simply looked at her in pity.
“Is she…mad?” Harry asked him uneasily.
“I’m afraid so. She’s been through so much, I would be surprised if she hadn’t gone mad. First Arthur was murdered while he was coming home from the Ministry, and just a week after that Bill went missing. Some say he tried to jump off the Astronomy tower one night in the attempt to escape Hogwarts. And then there’s Charlie…nobody knows what happened to him. Maybe he managed to escape successfully, but there hasn’t been a trace of him since the age of thirteen. Percy graduated Hogwarts without being killed, but now he’s on the run for helping muggle-borns. Fred and George are out somewhere trying to defeat Voldemort, but it’s unlikely they’ll be successful. Ron is helping them. There’s been a rumor that the three were captured and killed.”
“And what about Ginny?” Harry asked, fearing the answer.
“She was captured at the age of three, sent to be raised by a Death Eater family. She’s currently on Voldemort’s side. They captured her to keep blood pure.”
“No…” Harry said, feeling dizzy. He tried to ignore Mrs. Weasley’s whimpering but couldn’t. “Why’d they leave Mrs. Weasley here?”
“They didn’t want to spill too much magical blood, it seems.” The Guardian Angel said disgustedly.
Harry felt sickened. This was all some sort of joke…one moment he was in London for a New Year’s Eve celebration, the next moment he was in a completely different world. He needed to help these people, but he didn’t know what to do. But Harry had always had someone to turn to when he needed help…
“Take me to Hermione.” Harry said confidently.
“Hermione Granger! She’ll know what to do!” Harry said.
“Are you sure you want to know…?” the Guardian Angel asked skeptically.
“What do you mean? She’ll be fine, she lives with muggles.” Harry said hopefully.
“You asked for it.” the Guardian Angel said grimly, grabbing Harry’s shoulder and ending up in a graveyard…again.
“Why are we in a graveyard?” Harry demanded. “I told you to take me to Hermione!”
“I did.” he said calmly, gesturing towards a tombstone that read: Here lies a mud-blood, thief of magic. Hermione Jean Granger, 1980-1986.
Harry moaned in despair, falling to his knees in front of Hermione’s grave. “What happened to her?” he asked.
“Part of a Death Eater’s job is to eliminate muggle-borns as soon as they show any signs of magic. And when six year-old Hermione showed a little bit of magical ability, they killed her and her family. It remains, to muggles, one of the most mysterious murders of the century. Two dentists and their daughter found dead in their home.”
Harry could not believe any of this. Hermione was dead—just because Harry had never been born.
“And here are some more dead muggle-borns…I think you know Dean Thomas? And look, there’s Colin and Dennis Creevey, and I believe your father’s here somewhere as well…”
“My Dad died anyway?” Harry asked. “But why? He only died to save me and my mother.”
“Voldemort’s most trusted Death Eater, Severus Snape, wanted your mother to live with him. So they came to James and Lily’s house in Godric’s Hollow and your Dad tried to fight them off. They killed him, stunned Lily, and took her to Hogwarts.” Harry could tell from the tone of the Guardian Angel’s voice that he loathed Severus Snape very much.
Harry glanced at a particularly large headstone that read Rubeus Hagrid. “Hagrid’s dead too?” Harry said in disbelief. Hagrid could not be dead. He refused to believe it.
“Oh, yes. The same day the Death Eaters took over Hogwarts. They came to kill Dumbledore, and Hagrid took the killing curse for him. But Dumbledore died anyway. And when he died, the Wizarding War lost all the hope it had left.” The Guardian Angel said sadly.
Hagrid, fiercely loyal towards Dumbledore, died in the attempt to save him…
“What happened to Sirius? My godfather?” Harry asked. It seemed as if everyone he cared about was dead.
“Oh, him? He was killed in his sleep.” the Guardian Angel said in distaste. “Killed in his sleep…” he muttered again under his breath.
Harry gulped, and suddenly realized that it was hard to breathe. This was what the world would be like if he hadn’t existed. Everyone he cared about was dead. Voldemort had taken over and there was no one who could stop him. “Take me back.” Harry said, his voice sounding hoarse. “I don’t want to see anything else.”
“I can’t.” the Guardian Angel said apologetically. “There’s just one last place I’ve got to show you.”
Harry gave a resigned sigh, straightening up and bracing for the worst. The Guardian Angel took hold of his shoulder and floated to their next destination. Opening his eyes, he felt his knees get weak—they were in front of Hogwarts castle.
“Welcome to Hogwarts, the best school of the Dark Arts.” the Guardian Angel said.
“Will Voldemort be here?” Harry asked.
“Good. I’ve killed him once…I can do it again…” Harry said, pulling out his wand. “How do we get inside?
“Leave it to me.” the Guardian Angel said. “Just play along.”
Harry and the Guardian Angel walked towards the main entrance of the castle, which was surrounded by guards wearing hoods. Each was wearing a Death Eater’s mask. Harry realized it was true—there were far more Death Eaters in this world.
“Halt,” one of the Death Eaters guarding the entrance said. “What’s your business here?”
“I’ve come with a prisoner,” the Guardian Angel replied, grabbing hold of Harry’s arm as if he were dragging him.
The Death Eater narrowed his eyes and scrutinized Harry, his eyes lingering a moment longer at his scar, possibly wondering how he’d gotten it.
“Very well. There hasn’t been much entertainment lately, anyway. This one’s murder should be interesting…” he said, chuckling to himself and allowing them to pass.
Death Eaters were prowling the main hallway, and they stared at Harry as they passed. He was sure he would not attract the same attention to the Death Eaters as in his world…
They reached the entrance doors to the Great Hall, where there was one important-looking Death Eater standing guard. His face was slim and cruel-looking and had a curled black beard.
“And who might this be?” the Death Eater asked, eyeing Harry. Perhaps he didn’t find the Guardian Angel suspicious because of his hood, which made him resemble a Death Eater.
“Some nutcase who thinks he can defeat the Dark Lord.” the Guardian Angel said with a smirk.
The Death Eater smirked as he scrutinized Harry, and his eyes rested on Harry’s scar for a mere moment, clearly wondering how Harry had gotten it.
“Ah, entertainment. Haven’t seen a good duel against the Dark Lord since those Weasley twins were here. Meddling fools, they died on the spot.” the Death Eater said.
“You mean Fred and George are dead?” Harry asked suddenly.
“You dare speak to me, prisoner? Such arrogance will surely be the end of you.” the Death Eater said. “Take him to the Great Hall; the Prince is currently residing there.”
The Guardian Angel nodded, and continued dragging Harry.
“Who’s ‘the Prince’?” Harry asked the Guardian Angel.
“I believe you know the Prince as Severus Snape.” the Guardian Angel said. Harry sensed bitterness and resentment in the Guardian Angel’s voice as he said Snape’s name.
Harry found himself in the Great Hall, but it was definitely not as he remembered it; there was a statue of Salazar Slytherin in the middle, a fountain in the corner with water coming out of what seemed like a stone snake, and there were no colorful house banners. There was only one banner; the silver and emerald of Slytherin.
The bored-looking Death Eaters looked up suddenly to see Harry being dragged by the Guardian Angel. Apparently, Harry and the Guardian Angel had just intruded upon some sort of meeting.
“Who’s this?” a familiar, cold voice said. Harry looked fearfully at the man sitting at the end of the table; it was Lord Voldemort, the man Harry had killed himself just a year before, sitting only a few yards away…
“This nutter thinks he can defeat you, my Lord.” the Guardian Angel said.
“Is that so? And why did you intrude upon my meeting, when I so clearly stated this morning that this meeting was not to be interrupted? And who are you, anyway? I don’t recognize you,” Voldemort said cruelly, stroking Nagini’s head.
Before the Guardian Angel could respond, however, a voice interrupted-
“James!” a female voice said mournfully.
“Mum?” Harry said to himself incredulously.
Harry’s Mum had gotten up from her seat next to Severus Snape and was running towards Harry, tears in her eyes.
“Stupefy!” Snape said, aiming his wand at Lily.
Lily froze, and Snape gently grabbed her by the arm and dragged her back to her seat. Snape looked at Harry in disbelief, hatred written on every inch of his face. Even Harry, who had experienced Snape’s cruel looks many times, had not seen this particular expression, which was far beyond loathing.
“You! Potter! You’re supposed to be dead! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!” Snape roared at Harry.
Now Harry understood—everyone was mistaking him for his father.
“Severus, you’re the cruelest man I know, killing James—” Lily said, tears filling her eyes, and she looked at Snape with deep hatred.
Harry’s mother was alive, but she was miserable.
“Severus, what have I told you about the girl? I said you could keep her if you kept her quiet at all times!” Voldemort said.
“So that’s what you think of me as, Snape? A pet?” Lily said coldly.
“No, Lily dear! It’s to keep you safe— ” Snape said, but Lily interrupted him.
“SHUT UP! AND DON’T CALL ME ‘DEAR:’ I HATE YOU, SNAPE!” Lily yelled.
“My Lord, I think you should kill the intruder now.” Snape said, his voice sounding hollow, without expression. His mother’s words seemed to have pierced him.
“What is your name, fool?” Voldemort said, getting up. His pale face looked crueler than Harry remembered; those extra eighteen years of power must have done it.
“I’m Harry Potter! And I’m going to kill you like I already did last year!” Harry said, abandoning common sense that was telling him Voldemort could not die because of his Horcruxes.
Voldemort merely laughed. “You’ve killed me before, have you? That makes complete sense, as I’m standing here before you.” he sneered.
But Harry was distracted by a red-haired woman who had just entered the Great Hall and seated herself next to a blonde-haired Death Eater.
“Ginny! What are you doing here? With these people!” Harry said, rushing towards her.
“What the hell! Get away from me you freak!” she said, jumping out of her seat to avoid Harry.
“Ginny? Don’t you remember? It’s me, Harry!” Harry said, desperately hoping that she would remember him. Harry was holding her hand in his, looking into her eyes for recognition; but none came.
“Get off of my fiancée!” Draco Malfoy shouted, pushing Harry away.
“What! Fiancée?” Harry said incredulously, looking from Ginny to Draco—the Guardian Angels’ words made sense now—to keep blood pure…
Ginny looked at Harry with disgust.
Harry could feel his heart beating painfully on his ribs; this could not be true…Ginny, his Ginny, was engaged to Draco Malfoy—his enemy—because Harry had never existed.
“Enough. It’s time I kill this intruder already—the disruptions he has caused has already lost me so much of my precious time.” Voldemort said lazily, raising his wand, pointing it directly at Harry.
With a flash of green light, the Great Hall had disappeared. Instead, he found himself in a world of cold white—but it was not King’s Cross Station. Sputtering and shivering once more, Harry lifted his head out of the snow pile, finding himself once more in the quiet muggle neighborhood in London.
Relief and excitement had suddenly filled Harry—he was back. Whatever had just happened was either a dream or hallucination…but that didn’t matter right now. He had to find Ginny.
“I EXIST!” Harry shouted, unable to contain himself.
An old woman letting her cat inside saw Harry and stared at him, mumbling about “drunken men” before closing her door.
Harry ran as fast as he could across the main road, almost getting run over by a car. He received an angry swear from the driver, but didn’t bother apologizing as he tried to get back to the clock tower.
The square was packed, just as he has left it, which made it impossible to find the Weasleys. Starting to get very worried, he suddenly saw a glimpse of bright red hair not too far away. Pushing himself through the crowd, he had finally made it to his friends.
“Harry!” Hermione said, relieved. “Where have you been, we’ve been so worried—”
But Hermione was unable to complete the sentence, since Harry had hugged her. She patted his back confusedly as he pulled away.
“Mrs. Weasley! You’re not mad!” Harry said cheerfully, hugging her.
“Harry, dear, are you alright?” Mrs. Weasley asked, clearly startled by his sudden change in behavior.
“Alright? Of course I’m alright! Why wouldn’t I be alright?” Harry laughed, as if this was the craziest question he had ever heard.
“Harry, are you drunk?” Ron asked suddenly.
“Ron! You’re alive too!” Harry said joyously, giving Ron a hug as well.
“He’s drunk!” George laughed for the first time in months.
And somehow, Harry’s strange behavior and George’s laugh made everyone else laugh, too. They laughed until their sides ached, and before they knew it, the clock tower was chiming.
“Ginny,” Harry said, grabbing her hands. “I’m sorry for being a miserable git—I promise I’ll never act that way again—”
“Save it, Harry.” Ginny smiled, and they kissed. Fireworks exploded in the night sky, sparks of all color visible in the midnight horizon. It was the most magical kiss Harry had ever experienced—and that very moment, he realized that it really was a new year—a new beginning.
When they finally broke apart, Harry glanced at the crowd and saw a familiar hooded figure watching Harry.
“Ginny, hold on for a minute, I’ll be right back.” Harry said, running off towards the Guardian Angel.
“You’re—you’re real?” Harry said.
“That’s right. What you saw wasn’t a dream or hallucination.” The Guardian Angel said matter-of-factly. “And by the way, it took you long enough.”
“Long enough for what?” Harry asked.
“Long enough to realize who the love of your life is.” the Guardian Angel said, and Harry swore he saw a crooked smile under that hood.
“Oh,” Harry said, blushing slightly.
“Anyway, I better be off.” the Guardian Angel said. “My job here on earth is done, and that was to make you happy.”
“You’re leaving?” Harry said, disappointed. “But…you’re not really a spirit… are you?”
The Guardian Angel gave a loud, bark-like laugh—and Harry gave a gasp of realization.
“I’ll see you again someday, Harry…but for now, I must be off…” the Guardian Angel turned on the spot and headed for the alleyway.
“SIRIUS! WAIT!” Harry yelled running off to follow him. He nearly slid on some ice, but was determined to catch up. The Guardian Angel turned towards a dead-end, and Harry turned too.
But when he did, he saw that there was no one there—as if the Guardian Angel had disappeared into thin air.
A/N: First of all, I’d like to give a huge thanks to Ashwini (True Author) for encouraging me to re-post this story! This was one of my earlier fanfictions and was written terribly, but I re-wrote it and I hope that people will like it even more than before. I know it was really weird, but I had a lot of fun writing this! (Although I don't think this really happened to Harry.) So, if you liked it, please review! Reviews make my day, rain or shine. :)
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