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The World Ahead	By : Japhia Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 9165 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I am making no money from this story.

Chapter List
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Bill560682 – Oh, dear God, I'm dieing over here. I want to elaborate more on what is going to happen, but all I can respond with is “not quite”. I commend you though. Your imagination is vast OR your trolling skills are incredible, both are worthy qualities I hold in high esteem. Sir or ma'am, Me Gusta.

Also, Harry has only taken 4 Weasley sweaters, as I assume that not all of them fit him any longer, and if he has gotten one for his birthday and Christmas every year, he might have upwards of 7 or 8. I didn't want to strangle him with love, just make him uncomfortably warm.

Hotflower901 – That's a thought. Is Voldemort alive? Well... I suppose you'll just have to wait and see.

LeaniaSTL – Thank you! I'm not sure Hermione will ever remember him, so I can't say that there is any offense to be taken.

Please remember to read and review. You never know when your idea might be just what I am looking for!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Books in hand and parchment spread out before him, Harry did something he had never truly done. He wrote without being threatened with loss of points. His quill scratched the parchment with a delicate sound, only stopping when the need for ink arose. For this task, he would need to be quick and efficient as possible. Each piece of parchment read in part that the receiver should call all members of the family together as there was big news to be heard. For each letter he said “I have decided to end this war in the quickest way possible. In order for me to do this, I will require your complete cooperation.” The next words did not matter. It was enough to get the readers attention, to keep them reading, and to trip the spell he was, at this moment, weaving into the parchment papers.

The books he had open to his left gave information on creating spells, on wand waving, and how it could change the outcome of a spell. It had been one solid week since he'd taken her memories of their friendship and Harry had cried each night there after, wishing he knew of a better way to go about this.

Wand pointed directly at the papers upper left corner, he made an X shape from corner to corner, as he spoke, “Ipse deleri omnes memorias obliviatis. Somnum oblivisci vivere in.” The tip of his wand landed squarely on the “plan” he spoke of, which had nothing to do with anything he truly planned. The final circle falling on his first name at the end of the letter. By the time the reader acknowledged his Sir name, the spell would already have begun its work, weaving into their minds and taking his presence from them. They would all be the same as Hermione now. They would know him from his fame, and would know nothing more. It would be as if he had never stepped foot into Hogwarts.

There were of course, a few people in mind he was not sure how to handle. The Professors, specifically Snape and McGonagall. Hagrid, he would be sending a letter to. But Snape would no doubt throw his letter out, or find the spell without reading it. To be honest, he could see Minerva reading it through, but he could also see her acting before she finished. She knew his handwriting by heart now. Perhaps it would be better that she find his lack of appearance in school, as opposed to hunting him down because of a letter. Flitwick, Madam Pomfrey, Binns, Sprout, Hooch, and Trelawney were not forefront of his mind. They all had an affinity for him in one way or another and would read through his letter, this he knew.

So far he had a stack of envelopes for each current member of his own house, a much smaller stack for the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff (mainly the quidditch teams and a few close friends), and finally he was not sure what to do about Slytherin. Not all of them were children of deatheaters, but he only knew a handful and the others were more liable to shred it without a second thought.

After Dumbledore had been killed by Bellatrix Lestrange on the astronomy tower, the previous year, McGonagall had taken the role of Head Mistress and she was very cautious of incoming mail for herself. He'd seen her at the head table in the great hall, checking each letter she received for spells, and curses. She was going to be a battle. Of course, he wondered in his mind, I could just leave her be. But honestly, what good what it do. If Snape and she were left with memories, they would eventually start talking to each other, and come to find what he had done.

It was nearly eight at night, as he lifted the last of his letters, placing it into a box with the others. He left the room he rented in muggle London and carefully entered Diagon Alley, with his invisibility cloak firmly clenched around him. Weasleys' Wizard Weezes was the only place he could think to go as Diagon Alley didn't have a post to sent letters from. He could also have a final conversation with the twins, and perhaps even gain some tricks for this adventure.

As he pushed the door open all was silent. This late in the evening he wasn't surprised to see an empty store.

Lost in his thoughts as he was, he jumped higher then a frightened cat when his robe was pulled off and he was latched on each arm by a twin. “Well hello Harry. Fancy seeing you here.” They spoke together and how could anyone help but laugh.

A hand reached into the box of identical letters and pulled one out. “What chu up to mate? Late Christmas cards?” Fred took one and examined it as though he'd never seen one before.

“Doesn't look like Christmas cards to me, Fred.”

He moved towards the offending twin and attempted to one-hand the letter back. “It's just a-”

“We've never gotten a Christmas card from Harry before.” George took one as well and before they could rip open the envelopes simultaneously, Harry managed to snatch them both back, tucking them safely in with the other letters. “Did we offend?”

“No, I just wanted to ask if you could use your delivery owls to send these out.” The box was thrust forward and Fred took it with wide eyes questioning too many things for Harry to answer at once.

All was silent for a time. The twins looked at their youngest investor before looking at each other. “What's in it for us?”

Harry wrapped his cloak about him once more as if he was ready to walk out. “The satisfaction of knowing that you've helped me.” He hand his hand on the door and one foot in the snow before he found himself on his back staring up at red headed face. The tell-tale sound of a door locking told him he wouldn't be going anywhere, anytime soon.

Harry had no idea how it had happened. He had no idea what had happened. Fred and George Weasley, twins extraordinaire, evil geniuses, these unbelievable tricksteres had figured out his plan in no less then a few hours. They had taken the letter addressed to the two of them from the box and set it a flame. “You can't be serious Harry? You were going to erase our memory of you?” George rested his head on Fred's shoulder and watched the dark haired boy with a grin on his face. “You honestly think we'd let that happen?”

“We check all our mail Harry. Especially when we get bad feedback from pranks people pull.”

And once again their voices came in unison. “Don't howl the messenger, we always say.”

“How do you know I won't just obliviate you both in the middle of the night?” They'd forced him into a pair of blue flannel pajamas, which gave Harry the idea that they did not expect him to leave at all that night. He'd of course struggled and they had taunted him for wearing their mum's knitted sweater, wondering why he would take this item if he planned to erase everyone's memories. 'won't it just make you sad to see it?' Fred had asked. It was that question that had Harry stop his wriggling and allowed them both to redress him.

George took the chair beside him and Fred plucked Harry's wand from the table, placing it on top of a bookshelf. “Can you do wandless magic?”

“What do you want?” Harry was exasperated by this point. He sat at their table, wood and covered with gouges, marks, and burns from where experiments had gone wrong. Around him there were all sorts of new projects on the walls and counters, hanging from the ceilings, and one cabinet looks very much like someone had spent time making sure it wouldn't pop back open. He supposed this was their kitchen at some point.

Harry had never had issue telling these two apart. Not once. Each had a different type of personality. Fred seamed to be the leader of the two. His comments usually came first and George fed off it. If George did comment first, Fred would laugh instead of add to it, or he would repeat it word for word. George was one to be more Dominant in every day tasks and in body language where Fred was more nurturing and touchy. They were both on equal playing fields in all other topics though.

The two of them seemed to be having a quiet conversation with their eyes and Harry watched them. At the same time, they said, “We want in.”

For a moment they were sure Harry could have whiplash from the speed which he turned round in his chair. “In? In on what? You don't even know what I'm plann-”

“But you're going to tell us-”

“-and we're going to help.”

Again that awkward silence filled the room like a steady fog. The tension was there and Harry was sure one of them might try to bottle it for potion ingredients. “We'll send out those letters.”

“But you have to tell us everything.”

The rest of the night was spent sitting at the table drinking tea and explaining his plan. He told them of what he had done to the Dursley's, which had them both rolling in laughter. He told them of what he'd already done to Hermione as well, for which he shed yet another tear. “If you would rather everyone forget you, what did you plan on coming back to when it's all done and over with?”

“I wasn't going to come back. I was-”

“Was?”

“As in he's not going to anymore.”

“Am! I am not coming back. I'm going to find a place where no one knows me and I can live a normal life.” Harry slammed his hands down on the table. “I just want to be normal.”

A chorus of, “Good luck with that one mate.” was followed by Fred challenging him again. “Everyone on this planet knows you. You could get along in the muggle world.”

George refilled his own tea and gave it a good long drink before he clapped them both on the back. “But who would want to do that? It's time for bed, nearly half twelve now.” Harry yawned, covering it with his tea cup as he downed the last of his share.

“Off to bed with you Harry.” He waited as they pushed him up the stairs and down a hall, for them to stop before they arrived at their own bedroom door. He was confused as the door made of many different pieces of wood was pushed open and he was thrown onto the bed. “Wait a second!”

“Go to sleep Harry.”

At that moment, Harry had never been more confused in his life. He was sandwiched between two redheads and he rolled his eyes as they pulled up a blanket.

As time passed and Harry lie awake between the two lightly snoring twins he considered many things. First thing being that he was comfortable like this. He'd never slept in a bed with anyone else before, certainly not his best friends older brothers. Secondly, could he trust them with this? Could he honestly accept their assistance in his agenda? If I ask them to help, they could end up dead. Just like Sirius. That was the absolute last thing he wanted for them. These two had done more for him then anyone else. They had given him his father's map, which Remus had taken last year. He'd completely forgotten to get it back. Shit...

Harry's final thought before drifting into a comfortable sleep, was simply, I forgot my things in my hotel room.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As it struck precisely 7:30 in the morning, Petunia Dursley had finished the dishes and was settling herself down for a nice cup of earl gray. Earlier that morning she'd opened a can of carrots that were nearly at their expire date, and pushed it with a fork into the cat flap at her nephew's door. With that done she could finally relax.

Entering her sitting room with a contented smile on her face, the horse faced women peeked from her front shades, checking for anything out of place. A movement caught her eyes and as she looked above the fire place, nothing seamed out of the ordinary. Not at first anyway.

A few steps closer and she gasped in horror. There were mustaches... not drawn on, but grown! She whirled to look at the others and her fine Royal Albert china crashed to the floor. Every photo of her precious Dudley, every single face in the room had a mustache as if it had been there when the picture was taken. As if that wasn't enough she screamed when her own portrait struck a pose like a show girl.

“VERNON!!!!”
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The World Ahead