Title: Broken Reflections

Category: Books » Harry Potter

Author: JacobApples

Language: English, Rating: Rated: T

Genre: General/Mystery

Published: 06-21-18, Updated: 02-16-19

Chapters: 21, Words: 77,307

Chapter 1: History of Magic

Dyslexia: Language disability that affects my grammar and spelling, read at your risk.

Disclaimer: JKR owns her ideas and copyright.

AN: Harry remembers the mirror Sirius gave him in the fifth book and realizes Voldemort is in his mind. Fed up with his circumstances he takes matters into his own and hands with an unforeseen fallout. Marauders age, No time Paradox. Hedwig forever. I needed a break from What We Lost, but I thought I would try another Andromeda/Harry. Hoping to make this more actiony and less angst, well first two chapters will have angst because we are coming off of book 5.

WARNING: I am rearranging the Black sisters' ages again. Andromeda is two years older than Sirius but is only a year ahead in school. Narcissa and Regulus are in the same year and Bellatrix is three years ahead in school than Sirius. If you have a problem with redeeming and/or humanizing Slytherins: pick another story.

Beta: Endless thanks to Basium1!

Chapter 1 - History of Magic

Sirius was being tortured in the Department of Mysteries. Sirius was being tortured in the Department of Mysteries. It was the only thing he could think.

"You can't leave the test until you are done, my dear boy," the instructor said.

"I'm done," he said and ran out of the room. He needed to get to Sirius, he needed to know if Sirius was okay. He-

He remembered the mirror. He ran to Gryffindor Tower and found the mirror he had hidden in his trunk.

"Sirius!" Harry called disparately through the mirror and was relieved beyond measure when he 'picked up' on his end in under thirty seconds.

"Harry? Harry, are you alright?" Sirius asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he lied, he could still hear the vision of Sirius screaming in his mind.

"You don't look fine, why did you call? What do you need?"

Harry hesitated. Sure he should trust Sirius but he had yelled at him the last time he had spoken to him. Harry was not taking occlumency lessons. "It was just the test I got out of, I forgot everything and… well I know I failed it."

Sirius visibly relaxed, "Oh… well, that is a normal issue. I always feel like when I hear from you it is because of something bad happening."

Harry forced a laugh, "I did do poorly."

"You are starting to worry like Moony then. What subject was it?"

"History of Magic."

Sirius laughed, "What are you worried about then? No one was ever defined by their grade in History of Magic. You weren't planning on taking it into the NEWT level, were you?"

"No," Harry said, "it wasn't a requirement to become an Auror."

"Then it's over now, pass or fail it doesn't matter. Why don't you take a nap? You look tired, and don't forget to practice your Occlumency."

"Yeah, alright, thanks, Sirius," Harry said.

"Anytime kid, I'm always here for you."

Always, Harry thought a little bitterly, who is the liar now?

The mirror went blank and Harry stayed slumped against the side of his bed. The images of Sirius being tortured were still rolling around in his mind.

Voldemort was in his mind and despite his 'lessons' Harry had not a clue as to how to block the Dark Lord from his mind.

Hermione would tell him to practice, but he would like to see how she dealt with a constant headache.

What would Hermione do?

Aside from master Occlumency, she would probably go to the library. But if the answer was in the library surely the professors would have found the solution by now.

Hermione would tell him the answer was Occlumency and to do as Dumbledore told him to do.

Dumbledore could go turn himself.

Harry was beyond angry with the man who meant the world to him who hadn't bothered to make eye contact since the whole Nagini and Mr. Weasley incident. His head hurt and he wanted to make Dumbledore hurt because as much as everyone claimed to care for him, to keep him safe even if it meant being told nothing, and him staying with the Dursleys, Voldemort had already won.

Voldemort had killed Cedric. No one believed that the Dark Lord was back, and now the evil parasite was inside of Harry.

Dumbledore knew more than he was telling and Harry would love nothing more than to go up to his office and demand answers. But Dumbledore wasn't there.

And then a very bad, very expel worthy idea came to him. Dumbledore wasn't at the school but Dumbledore's office was and maybe Umbridge couldn't get into the old wizard's office but maybe there was a way Harry could.

Pulling the Marauder's Map and Invisibility Cloak out of his trunk. He left the mirror behind him, and exited Gryffindor Tower under the cloak and made his way to Quidditch Pitch and Madam Hooch's shed. Harry didn't even bother with an unlocking charm, he found a large rock and pounded the handle off. He removed one of the school brooms and repaired the lock with a flick of his wand. He flew to the Headmaster's office.

Hedwig must have spotted him somehow from her own tower and flew alongside him.

Harry thought there would be something to stop him from him entering through one of the upper windows. But there wasn't even the brush of a ward. It just went to show that you could have all the power in the world and still be forgetful.

The portraits on the wall harassed him about why he was here and eventually Harry yelled at them to shut up. "I am here to find a way to get the Dark Lord out of my head!" he shouted.

"Occlumency!" one headmaster yelled back at him.

Harry snarled at him, "That has only made things worse, it opens me up more to him. I am defenseless! I need help and nobody seems willing to do that so I am going to help myself to whatever knowledge I can get my hands on!"

There were some protests but after about an hour they left him alone. Harry searched Dumbledore's desk for note's and most of them in a shorthand that Harry had no way to decipher.

At one point he knocked over the side table of seemingly precious objects. Harry was too frustrated to be sorry. His head was pounding and instead of a vision, there was a voice growing in his mind.

Another layer of thought was shadowing his own enough so that when he found a book about the Dark Arts in a small shelf he had 'accidentally' -violently, pushed over there was a ring of familiarity to it. He had been in the office for hours at this point, with only Hedwig for company.

Secrets of the Darkest Art, Harry read the book and was too tired to be horrified, -disgusted? yes, but not stricken with terror. At least until he reread the description of a Horcrux and had the lightning realization that Tom Riddle's Diary sounded an awful lot like that description.

Harry wasn't sure if it was the whispering in his mind or the chill down his back or maybe he was finally cracking but Harry had two terrible trains of thought.

What if a person could make more than one Horcrux?

And what if a person could be a Horcrux?

Harry touched the scar on his forehead, it throbbed with pain, and suddenly he didn't think he was mistaken. Yes, his sanity had probably cracked, but maybe to beat a madman, you had to be a madman?

Harry checked the bookshelves, searching for a way to remove curse scars. He really didn't want to have to stab his own forehead with Basilisk fang, it seemed a little extreme and besides, Fawkes wasn't around to save him.

Harry sighed, "Hedwig, how do I get myself out of this?"

Hedwig hooted and flew to a corner of the room Harry had yet to trash. Standing on a cabinet marked with three rune symbols.

Runes, as Hermione had explained to him, were just a part of an ancient wizarding language and that the symbols themselves had no power on there own. This 'word' on the cabinet she had taught both him and Ron. It read simply, 'danger.'

Harry being Harry, ignored the warning and opened the cabinet. Dumbledore being Dumbledore didn't properly defend the opening of such a cabinet from someone like Harry.

Inside the cabinet was a little mirror that had a little not in swirling cursive that read:

One way mirror, do not touch with bare skin. This mirror gives you the power of existence, your 'mirrored' self cannot be rewritten no matter the outcome but you can never return to where you were.

In Dumbledore's handwriting there was a second note, maximum of twenty, would be destroyed by duplicate self.

Harry had no idea what this meant. He went to shut the doors but Hedwig hopped to his shoulder and bit his ear.

"Ow, Hedwig!"

She hooted at him indignantly and Harry sighed. He looked at his tired reflection, Hedwig glaring reproachfully at him meeting his eyes in the mirror. He reached into the cabinet and the moment his fingers touched the glass it shattered, the shards sticking into his hand.

When he woke it was in a rather familiar place to a rather familiar face - that is, a familiar face that was twenty years younger than when Harry had last seen the medi-witch.

KEYNOTE: I am not going to have Harry agonize over how to get back to his time, I don't care if you think that is unrealistic I just get bored with that line of thought. Again there is No Time Paradox.

AN: I screwed up the last two times I tried this idea. Third time's the charm? Please share your thoughts and reactions with me, if you are interested?

Chapter 2: Potter Two

AN: I am taking 8 weeks if intensive Hindi. 10 hours of Hindi a day… so truly no promises on me popping out chapters had my typical speed. I hoping to make this story upbeat but like a lot of my writing, plotted out or otherwise I go where it leads me. This is Harry/Andromeda because I have decided to set the high bar on the pairing.

Beta: many thanks to Basium1!

Chapter 2 - Potter Two

"James," Madam Pomfrey started, "what were you doing in Dumbledore's office? You were lucky I found you. I am not sure what prank you were planning- but how did you even get into his office?"

Harry blinked at her. His mind reeling. Time travel. He had time traveled, twenty years or so. Then his thoughts sharpened.

"Hedwig?" Harry croaked.

"What did you say?"

Harry coughed, "Hedwig, my snowy owl, where is she?"

"She was unconscious, but like you, she was perfectly unharmed. She is resting with the gamekeeper, Hagrid, he's keeping an eye on her as she recovers."

"How long have I been out?"

"Since I found you, about twenty minutes, but you missed your history exam. You a free to go and try to explain to your instructors why you are so late to the exam as it seems you don't want to explain anything to me."

Harry hesitated before climbing out of bed. He was still wearing Dudley's hand me downs. He had taken off his robes and tie in Dumbledore's off -in Dumbledore's other office. "Thanks," Harry said.

Upon leaving the hospital wing he ducked into a bathroom and got his thoughts in order.

He needed a plan. Looking at himself in the mirror he decided that the easiest lie was the closest to the truth. Harry looked like his father, therefore he would be a Potter, a distant relative. He was a half-blood, his mother some nameless muggle. As far as he knew both his parents were dead and he had been living in foster care with a couple he called Uncle and Aunt, no relation.

His magical ability…

Harry found an old trunk in the attic with spell books and a wand. He knew about Hogwarts but had assumed he wasn't powerful enough to be admitted. Somehow Harry doubted that people slipping through the cracks between Hogwarts and the Ministry would be a first-time occurrence.

But why was he at Hogwarts?

Because; a random person on the street mistook him for James Potter. Which Harry had interpreted to mean he had magical relatives, one who around his own age who went by James -who happened to look an awful lot like Harry.

Originally, Harry had intended to floo to Hogsmeade from London but had ended up coughing and saying Hogwarts instead.

He stared at himself, both congratulating himself for the scheme that would do Hermione proud and wondering if he could pull off a lie this big. He glared at the scar on his forehead hating it for everything it stood for, although it was no longer hurting.

Harry frowned at himself. If he was a Horcrux like he theorized, did that mean that Voldemort had his sliced soul pieces plus an extra slice now? Theoretically, then he would have 110% soul or whatever?

Harry's next thought stunned him; Voldemort didn't even know who Harry was.

He grinned at himself; no Boy Who Lived, no crazy Potter, no Dark Lord, no- no one knew who he was. His family were alive, Sirius was healthy and guilt-free, and his mother was safe and…

Harry groaned. The first war was just beginning.

Whatever had brought him back in time was not a time turner. The mirror inscription had said it gave the user the power of existence and that he couldn't be rewritten. Harry was going to interpret this to mean that he could safely change the future without erasing himself, say if his parents didn't get together and have him. Also, Harry was going to work with the idea that there was no way back.

Not that Harry really wanted to go back. It was war one way or the other, and though he would miss Ron and Hermione, in this timeline he had a family.

Maybe he had a family.

If they- they being his grandparents, would take him in. Sirius had said they were really kind people. All Harry had to do was claim to have no one and nothing, which aside from Hedwig and his wand was true. Maybe the truth about him being a time traveler would get him help too but… but Harry wanted nothing to do with Albus Dumbledore. Being a time traveler would get him more notice than he wanted.

So he repeated his backstory to himself, and again, and again. While watching himself speak he realized the one thing that even if all his lies held together might give him away.

He had his mother's eyes -which all things considered, was his best feature. At Hogwarts, everyone had learned to charm the color of there hair and eyes rather earlier in their education, but it was Hermione who taught Ron and Harry how to transfigure the color of the hair and eyes. Harry had mastered the spell last month, Ron still wasn't ready to point his wand at his eyeballs.

Harry pictured blue, normal, average blue but his emerald eyes just darkened to sapphire blue, in the dim light of the bathroom they were dark enough to be mistaken for brownish-black. Despite the change, he still looked like Harry, which was all he wanted, to be just Harry.

With one last glare at his scare, he exited the bathroom and made his way out into the sunshine.

Haughty, Pompous, Studious, and Killable; the four Marauders.

Apparently, Harry had been transported to the day Snape had lost Lily as a friend. Harry didn't like Snape but the reason he didn't like Snape was because he was a bully. The Marauders -in this timeline, were the bullies. But James was his father and Sirius was his godfather, maybe if someone stood up to them, well someone who wasn't Lily or a Slytherin stood up to them, they might get some self-awareness. Except for Wormtail, Harry wasn't sure at what point in time a person would have to go back in time and fix the little rodent. It still disturbed Harry that a thirty-year-old man had been living with kids for thirteen years.

Careful to stay out of Sirius's line of sight Harry walked towards the group. None of them noticed his approach.

James spotted him first, looking up at him and in the process allowing the snitch to escape an extra foot. Harry snatched it with ease in his left hand.

"Hello," Harry greeted.

James stood, a few inches taller than Harry, "Who are you supposed to be?"

"Nice to meet you, too," Harry said, and despite James's frown, he meant it down to his toes.

"I don't have a scar and my eyes are hazel not blue," James said, looming over him, trying and failing to be intimidating.

"Where'd you get those rags?" Wormtail asked, "A muggle dumpster?"

A part of Harry was happy to be given such easy fouter to hate Wormtail with and then it occurred to him that he had never been made fun of for his hand-me-down clothes at Hogwarts before. In the muggle world he had been picked on endlessly for it, but here people had been too interested in him being the Boy Who Lived to care about what he was wearing.

"Peter," Remus scolded, on his feet now. The younger, healthier, and happier werewolf asked him, "Who are you?"

Sirius came shoulder to shoulder with James and asked, "And why do you look like our Jamzie?"

Harry smiled, "So you are James Potter then?"

James waved it away, "Of course I am, who are you, copycat? And why aren't you wearing a uniform?"

Harry held out right hand, "My name is Harry Potter, and you have no idea how long it took me to find you. And I am not wearing the uniform because I don't have any formal magical training."

They all gaped at him. Sirius was the first to recover. He reached out and shook Harry's hand energetically, "I'm Sirius Black, and the brainiac is Remus Lupin, and Bricks for Brains is Peter Pettigrew."

"Wait, we're related?" James asked, still processing.

"I hope so," Harry said, "I never met my dad, and my mum died when I was little but I met someone on the street with a purple hat who mistook me for you. Potter is a pretty common name but I thought- you know, maybe I had family out there."

James and Sirius's faces were lighting up with the delight of another Potter at Hogwarts.

"So you're a bastard," Wormtail said.

"Wormtail!" the other three Marauders chorused.

"What? If you don't know who your dad is that's what you are," Wormtail muttered.

Sirius sighed, exasperated, "That doesn't mean you say it out loud, you dolt."

"But what if Mr. Potter cheated on Mrs. Potter when she was pregnant with James?" Peter whined.

James whacked him over the head, "Shut up."

Sirius's expression was nothing short of furious.

Remus was a bit more practical and ever the peacemaker, said, "Harry, how did you find Hogwarts?"

"London, floo powder, Hogwarts, though admittedly I was trying to get to Hogsmeat the town over, and walk onto school grounds. The medi-witch was really nice about it, but then I think she thought I was James."

"Hogsmeade," Remus corrected.

Harry nodded, "I knew I was mispronouncing it."

"Do you know your dad's name?" James asked.

Harry shook his head, "No, I never met him and my foster family didn't know him either."

"Are you even a wizard?" Wormtail asked.

Harry tightened his lip and waited for the others to shut annoying pest down. They didn't.

Harry looked between the three people whose opinions mattered to him so much and saw nothing but arrogant, suspicious youth.

Oddly, it was Sirius's obvious mistrust in him that hurt the most. He didn't care much what Remus thought, he had tried to eat him once, and James… well, James was quickly becoming 'James' and not the fiction he had created of his long dead father.

But Sirius, Harry knew Sirius.

So Harry shook his head, shrugged, and turned on his heel. He walked off in the direction of Hagrid's hut and as if on cue:

"Oi!" Sirius shouted. "Where are you going?"

"Hagrid's, Madam Pomfrey said he has my owl," he answered without turning around, knowing that Sirius's curiosity wouldn't let him tolerate someone 'interesting' just walking away.

"See Moony, he has to be a wizard, only wizards have owls," Sirius said as he skipped up to Harry's side.

Harry couldn't help but smile.

James and Remus caught up easily, Peter had to jog to keep up with the decidedly more athletic teenagers.

"How do you know the way to Hagrid's hut?" Remus asked.

"He's the groundskeeper, I am assuming even if he doesn't live on the grounds he has a place to work from on the grounds."

"Logical."

Harry shrugged, "Most things aren't but it's a place to start."

"So where did you grow up?" Sirius asked.

"Surrey, suburbs, rather boring place really."

"What was your mother's name?" James asked.

Harry hesitated and then lied, "I don't know. The people I grew up with never talked about her, or at least nothing good."

"But you remember her?" Sirius asked.

"Only a little bit."

"How did she die?" Wormtail asked between wheezes.

"She was murdered by a wizard, or at least I think that's what happened. I just remember her yelling and a green light."

The Marauders exchanged looks.

Remus asked softly, "How old were you?"

"A year or so."

Remus gave him a look of pity. James looked sad. Sirius looked both concerned for Harry and angry at anyone who would use the Dark Arts. Peter… looked calculating.

James spoke first, "So you don't have any family?"

"Not until meeting you."

"You know, Harry, maybe you should go see Professor McGonagall," Remus said gently.

"Hedwig first," Harry declared.

"Whose Hedwig?" James asked.

"His owl, right Harry?" Sirius asked.

"Yep."

Sirius grinned, and swung an arm around Harry's shoulders than over James's, "Just think of how much trouble we can get into with two Potters."

Harry couldn't help but grin back, this Sirius was full of himself but Harry found that himself vastly preferring this version of Sirius to the tortured soul he had called his Godfather.

Harry knocked on Hagrid's door, the others staying back a bit. He thought it a bit funny that they were afraid of the half giant. Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick were the only two people at Hogwarts who could compare to Hagrid's kindness. Although Madam Pomfrey was certainly a nice person Harry knew by experience she could also be a nasty jail keeper when the time called for it.

Hagrid opened the door and looked all the way down at Harry, his eyes narrowing, "Potter?"

Harry held out his hand, "Harry Potter, it is very nice to meet you."

Hagrid stared at him for a moment before a smile lit up his face, "Rubeus Hagrid, it is nice to meet you, 'Arry. I thought Poppy was mistaken when she said James Potter had a snowy owl, I would have remembered her." He looked over Harry's head, "What are ye four doin' here?"

James, the ringleader, shifted from foot to foot, "Er, we um, are just escorting my cousin around, he said you had his owl."

"Yes, beautiful snowy, smart girl, poor thing was exhausted. Well, come on in all you, I'll make you some tea."

They entered and sat around Hagrid's table.

"Hedwig," Harry breathed in relief she was standing on one of the posts at the end of Hagrid's bed. She immediately flew over to his shoulder, nuzzling his cheek.

"Crazy bird," he whispered to her.

She hooted softly and rubbed against Harry's fingers.

"Quite the familiar you have there," Hagrid noted.

Harry tried not to laugh when Wormtail bit into one of Hagrid's scones and nearly lost a tooth.

"She found me," Harry said which wasn't technically true but wasn't exactly false either. Hedwig had always been able to find her way to where she wanted or needed to be.

"Not meant to be rude," Hagrid started, "but are you a squib? No shame if you are, I have just never seen you before."

"No, I just have never been to a formal school. I only know about magic from an old trunk I found in the attic. I guess the people who lived there before us must have been a wizard or a witch. There were a series of Hogwarts books and a wand."

"Does the wand work for you?" Hagrid asked.

"It does," Harry said.

"Prove it," Peter challenged.

Harry smiled wickedly and before anyone could react, Wormtail had fallen from his chair, stupefied on the ground.

James was wide-eyed.

Sirius clapped, "Nice wand work."

Remus huffed and did the counter curse.

Peter came up spitting mad, "You bastard!"

Harry snarled back, "Rat."

Peter staggered back as if Harry had struck him.

There was an awkward silence.

Hagrid coughed, "Don't the four of you have an exam to get to?"

"But Harry-" James began.

"I can take care of Harry and get him where he needs to be. Now get going before you're late."

"See you later, Harry," James said.

"Bye, Potter Two, hope you don't get eaten by anything," Sirius said, leaving before Hagrid could respond to that one.

Remus left with a wave, Peter scurrying out ahead of him.

"So…" Harry said to Hagrid after the door had shut, "what sort of magical creatures do you raise? I read that Hogwarts has a domestic herd of thestrals."

Hagrid's smile could have outshined the sun.

A few hours later -after Harry had been given a full account of the thestrals, hippogryphs, and other things that go bump in the night, Harry and Hedwig found themselves back in Dumbledore's office.

Harry sort of regretted that it was back to its put together state, he had liked his version of redecorating. The 'danger' cabinet was nowhere within sight.

"Mr. Potter, let's repeat shall we," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling. "You met an odd stranger on the street and realized you might have relatives in our world so you went to London, found a fireplace with floo powder, mispronounced Hogsmeade while coughing and ended up in my office?"

"Yes, Sir," Harry said, trying not to squirm under combined gazes of the Four Heads of the Houses, which was especially easy because the Slytherin Head of House was nowhere near as frightening as Snape.

"And you know about magic from books, and you have a wand because you found that wand with those books, and you have an owl because she found you?" Dumbledore went on.

"Yes, Sir."

Harry was careful to not make direct eye contact, which wasn't hard because the other teacher's expressions were more interesting. Harry knew what Dumbledore was thinking and he was sure that once he 'placed' Harry in a home he would be forgotten. After all, Harry wasn't the Boy Who Lived. The Wizarding World didn't know him and didn't want or expect anything from him.

"Well, all is in order then. But I am afraid you must turn in your wand and go back home."

Harry who had been watching Fawkes preen himself, nearly snapped his own neck to look back at the Headmaster. "You can't do that!"

"I am afraid my dear boy, that you are too old to attend this school and as you have been living with muggles- well by law I cannot allow you to possibly keep a wand and possibly expose us all. The risks are too great."

Harry had not seen that coming, "That is horse crap, I need my wand."

"You need to return to your own world, to your home-"

"I don't have a home," Harry snapped, "They kicked me out because I was a freak."

"You've performed magic in front of them?"

Harry glared, "I may not have gone to your fancy pants school, but I know how to read, I know it's normal for children to have spouts of accidental magic. It isn't my fault no one from 'your' world came to get me."

"Be that as it may, you cannot attend here. The scholarship is for first years only. Hogwarts rarely accepts transfer students and-"

"I came here to meet James Potter," Harry cut him off, "I came here to find my family not to be harassed by some self-centered bearded fool who thinks he is king of the universe."

The twinkle vanished, "You are a threat to the safety of our world and I cannot allow-"

"And what about my safety? My mother was murdered by one of your kind, and if James really is my relative than that means my father was magic too. Which would make me your kind. I am not handing over the only chance I have against the monster who ended my mother's life."

"Muggles kill each other all the time, how do you know it was magic that killed her? You already told us she died when you were merely a year old?"

"Because I remember laughter, someone yelling 'Avada Kedavra,' and green light, and before you say there is no way for me to possibly remember that; I would like to point out that the trauma stays with us no matter the clarity of our memory."

"Fleamont and Euphemia would like to meet him, Albus," McGonagall said finally speaking up. "Even if he were a squib, you know they would want to meet him."

Dumbledore sighed, "Very well, no doubt James Potter will tell them regardless. But you will not be admitted here, Harry, I want you to understand that. When our book doesn't recognize a possible student it is because they don't have the magic to keep up."

Harry glared, "I know my worth. And I bet I could pass your stupid tests." Merlin knew he passed them before. He was so angry with Dumbledore. Harry was finally given a chance to be a normal student at Hogwarts but no, Dumbledore was ready to kick him to the curb altogether.

The twinkle returned to Dumbledore's blue eyes, "That can be arranged, Mr. Potter."

KEYNOTE: Antagonistic Dumbledore but he will not be evil.

AN: Please share your thoughts and reactions with me?

Chapter 3: Wingardium Leviosa

Beta: Basium1 is an amazing person.

Keynote: Time travel, Harry isn't going to burn up or blow up the time continuum. Don't worry about the mirror because I may never explain it.

Dear Araytigre, Thank you so much for all of your kind and thoughtful reviews! You even read and reviewed my original story! Many thanks and much love!

Chapter 3 - Wingardium Leviosa

The professors were pretty on board with testing Harry, in fact, due to all of the proctors for the OWLs being around they had decided to let Harry take all his OWLs (aside from astronomy) in one afternoon.

His grandparents were coming later that night.

Harry was feeling both annoyed and a little vindictive. He was all too willing to prove Dumbledore wrong.

Accounting for the limited time the tests were more like evaluations. He was given the History of Magic test first with half the number of questions, and he was only given the practicals from the other exams.

The History of Magic exam was easier the second time through -especially without Voldemort pressing nonsense into his mind.

Harry had no issues in the Herbology practical and even earned a smile from Professor Sprout (who was quite pretty in her late twenties) when he gave extra care to the roots of a rather delicate mannered plant. Harry had worked every summer in Aunt Petunia's garden, and although it wasn't his favorite thing to do, it wasn't something he was bad at.

Charms was downright easy, it had always been one of his stronger subjects. Hermione had always outshined him but he had never been as terrible as Ron. Flitwick was delighted with Harry's abilities.

Not having to worry about the written aspect of Transfiguration in addition to having just taken the exam last week. Well, Harry exceeded his own expectations.

His care of Magical Creatures exam was overseen by Hagrid. The half-giant was unable to keep from saying, "He has a natural talent with the little creatures." Harry would have liked to keep working with 'little' creatures as opposed to the other not so little creatures he had met over the years.

Harry's potions skills were miles ahead of his typical performance under the watchful eye of Professor Slughorn who was possibly the nicest Slytherin Harry had ever met. He was full of praise and jolly humour, basically the antithesis of Snape.

Defense of the Dark Arts… Dumbledore oversaw as apparently, the DADA had jumped off a cliff for unspecified reasons. He was still at St. Mungos in urgent care.

"Is there anything you learned, seeing as you have never studied at this school that was not covered?" one of the proctors asked.

"I can conjure a Patronus," Harry said, barely able to keep the smugness off his face when he saw Dumbledore's eyebrows shoot up in his peripheral vision.

"That is a seventh year spell," The proctor noted.

"Defense always seemed the most interesting subject to me."

"As you have shown us, you did far better than the students in the current fifth year, but then Hogwarts has had a bad run of DADA professors."

Harry thought that they couldn't be worse than Quirrelmort, Lockhart, a Death Eater, or Umbridge.

"Hmmm… anyhow, show us your Patronus," the proctor said motioning with his hand.

Harry said the magic words and a silver stag trotted around through the air, proud and regal leaving both the proctors and Dumbledore opened mouthed.

Harry grinned, but had he been thinking, he might have realized how odd it would seem for a self-taught wizard to be that talented.

The instructors and the professors not only agreed, but enthusiastically accepted Harry into Hogwarts for the following year into his sixth year. Harry even agreed to take all of his courses at the NEWT level, including History of Magic under the proctors' insistence on the importance of the subject.

He would not be receiving official OWL scores but Harry didn't mind. Unbeknownst to him, Harry had earned an outstanding amount of attention from the Headmaster. He would be (re)sorted tonight, something that was of great importance to Albus Dumbledore.

"Ugh," Wormtail moaned, "why aren't we eating? Where is the food?"

"Where are the professors?" Remus asked.

"Here they come," Sirius sang under his breath.

"I can't believe we aren't going to win the house cup this year," James grumped.

"Really?" Lily asked from further down the table, "You? You of people, can't possibly imagine why we aren't going to win? It couldn't possibly have anything to do with you or your 'friends' misconception of the term fun."

James put his elbow on the table, his chin in his palm, and winked at her playfully, "Oh Lily Flower, if you wanted me to show you what fun is, you had only to ask."

She snarled wordlessly at him, before flipping her flaming red hair over one shoulder and turning her back on him to talk with a friend.

Sirius chuckled, "You really can't help being a moron, can you?"

James tightened his lips, "No one asked you, flea bag."

Sirius barked his laughter.

"Why is there another Potter?" Lily asked suddenly and turned to glare at James. She seemed more worried than anything else.

Students throughout the hall were whispering versions of the same.

One girl whispered to her friend at the Gryffindor table, "He isn't as attractive as our Potter, is he? I think he is a bit shorter and his hair is darker."

James smiled at having Lily's attention again, "He's my cousin."

"You don't have a cousin," she said sharply.

Sirius jumped in, "The Potters are a pureblood family, Lily Pretty. James has lots of cousins, we all do."

She hmphed, turning up her chin.

"McGonagall has the Sorting Hat," Remus said in a hushed voice as the hall grew quiet.

"Congratulations to all! On this festive day at the end of finals for the fifth and seventh years I am sure we all have much to celebrate and much we must part with as our seventh years move on to their new adventures," Dumbledore announced from his podium. "I am pleased to announce that Ravenclaw has won the house cup!"

The banners in the Great Hall shifted to blue, the Ravenclaw table cheering, the other houses clapping more sedately.

He continued, "But tonight our number is joined, entering the current fifth year class moving into their sixth year is Mr. Harry James Potter."

"His middle name is James?" Remus asked. "That's bit odd, isn't it?"

Sirius shrugged, "It's a common enough name. I hope he is sorted into our house."

"He will be," James said confidently. "Every Potter that was ever a Potter was sorted into Gryffindor."

"Yes, because another Potter was exactly what this school was missing," Lily said with enough sarcasm to spread on a sandwich.

James smiled at her, preening in her attention. "You say the nicest things, Lils."

She rolled her eyes at him.

The Sorting Hat still slid over his eyes.

'Oooooh!' the Hat exclaimed in Harry's mind.

'Hello,' Harry thought at the Hat.

'Hello, indeed, Harry Potter, oh what tales you could tell, and HA! I told everyone that would happen. I may be a hat but I knew- knew that would happen!"

'What would happen?'

'Shhhhhh- I'm reading,' the Hat shushed him.

For the next ten minutes, Harry waited for the Hat to talk to him. Aside from the 'oh's' and 'ah's' the Hat said nothing to him directly.

Finally, Harry asked, 'Are you planning to sort me?'

'Oh yes! I forgot, your mind… You shouldn't trust the Headmaster. Or at the very least don't put your faith in him.'

'What?'

'Don't tell him you are from the future or anyone who might tell him, I have seen and heard… Many things make sense to me in ways that they did not before. Take this second chance, this war will not be won divided as we are now.'

'So you're putting me back in Gryffindor again?'

'Merlin, no! That would be disastrous!' the Hat exclaimed, he sounded to Harry almost cheerful.

'How do you know if I am a he?' the Hat asked.

'What?'

'Never mind. About your sorting. Let's see, hmmm…'

'Please, not Slytherin.'

'Tempting, what with your ability to talk to snakes and your obvious potential, but no, I was thinking-"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The Sorting Hat shouted aloud to the impatient Great Hall.

There was a heartbeat of silence and then the Slytherin table began to roar with laughter, joined by Ravenclaws and some of the students from the Gryffindor table. The Hufflepuff's were clapping half-heartedly, clearly not liking being the butt of the joke or getting what amounted to James Potter's twin as one of their own.

James sank down on the bench seat as the people around him jeered. Lily's self satisfied smirk in seeing James being far from correct was embarrassing, to put it mildly.

"Cheer up, Prongs, it could be worse, he could have been sorted into Slytherin," Sirius said with a smile, even he was enjoying James's obvious discomfort.

"A Potter," James said weakly, "in Hufflepuff."

Wormtail grinned, "He's a Potterpuff."

James winced.

"He might look like James," someone from the Ravenclaw said loudly, "but obviously he isn't packing the same talent."

The rumours that Harry was a weakling, pushover, and vaguely dumb spread like wildfire throughout the school, even the Headmaster was biased, his worries about Harry's skills were partially alleviated by Sorting Hat's choice. No one dangerous ever came out of Hufflepuff.

Harry was relieved with his sorting, although he was disappointed with the reaction of the other students. Not that the whispers or jeering bothered him all that much, he was used to that, he was just a bit sad that his new housemates were less than welcoming because of it.

Harry sat down across from a boy with brunette hair and freckles, his tawny eyes were bright and kind. He held out his hand.

Harry took that hand as the boy said, "Hi, I'm Ted Tonks, welcome to Hufflepuff."

Harry smiled, "Thanks." Nymphadora Tonks's dad was someone Harry was more than willing to make friends with.

"You were a Hatstall," Ted said.

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"You took over four minutes to be sorted. You made us wait more than ten minutes to be sorted."

Harry wasn't sure what possessed to him to say what he said next, maybe it was knowing who Ted would marry or because he had passed the point of caring, "Oh that. The Sorting Hat was just picking my brains. Something about not being given the chance to sort older students often."

"Are you anything like James?" one of the older students asked.

Harry shrugged, "I can't say I know him well enough to answer that question."

"If he was like his brother, cousin, whatever, he would be in Gryffindor," a girl declared, giving Harry a shrewd look.

"Here's hoping you can compete against him on the Quidditch pitch," the first boy said.

"Don't listen to them, Harry," Ted said warmly, "You'll find your place here. Just be yourself and the school will be on to the next rumour before you can say Wingardium Leviosa thrice."

Harry felt a slight pang in his heart. As happy as he was to have this second chance, Hogwarts wouldn't be the same without Ron and Hermione.

He might even miss trolls entering the school trying to kill him.

AN: Did I surprise you?

Chapter 4: Getting to Know You

KEYNOTE: This story is outside of my comfort zone as a writer, it will be action and comedy, parts will be rocky but trying it out is the only way to get better. Thank you to the readers and reviewers.

Beta: Thank you, Basium1!

"Getting to know you,

Getting to know all about you,

Getting to like you,

Getting to hope you like me,"

-Anna, The King and I

Chapter 4 - Getting to Know You

Harry's hands were sweating. He should have been this nervous to meet James, heck he hadn't even met Lily -though she hadn't been hard to spot at the Gryffindor table. The thing was that they were all just kids, people his own age. Lily and James weren't together, they were still a part of Harry but they weren't parents. Fleamont and Euphemia (two notable names) Potter were not only Harry's family but they were about to be the people who would decide his future.

Arguably, however, when the people who had been dictating your future before were Dumbledore, the Dursleys, and Voldemort nearly anyone was an improvement.

He sat on his hands, to keep them from visibly shaking, he didn't want to lie to them and he truly wanted them to like him.

James and Harry were waiting in McGonagall's office along with Professor Sprout, Harry's new Head of House. Dumbledore wasn't there, leaving it to McGonagall to deal with the Potters.

The door opened, McGonagall leading Mr. and Mrs. Potter into the room. James stood to give his mother and father a hug.

Fleamont Potter was a little shorter than average with knobbly knees and a huge smile. His hair a sandy-brown with a few streaks of grey and like James his eyes were hazel.

Euphemia Potter was nothing short of magnificent. She had enchanting blue eyes that seemed to pierce into Harry's heart. Her hair was a mass of black curls and she held herself very straight. When she walked into the room it was if she owned it and everyone else in that room were her honored guests. It wasn't until James hugged her that Harry realized she was also very petite, smaller even than her husband.

Perhaps it wasn't Harry's poor diet that left him smaller than most students in his year. James was tallest out of four Potters.

Harry's heart fluttered at the thought, Potters. The plural of his name was a wonderful thing, he had been on his own for so long. He didn't rise from his chair and he fought with himself not to hunch his shoulders.

Euphemia approached him, Fleamont at her side. "Hello Harry," she said.

"Hi," Harry almost squeaked.

"How was your first day at Hogwarts?" Fleamont asked with a warm smile.

"Er… it was, I met James and his friends."

"Quite the characters," Euphemia said with a rueful smile at her son, "aren't they?"

"Sirius is fun," Harry said.

"Yes, he does have that quality. We were told you did extraordinarily well on your exams," Euphemia said. Her lilting voice put Harry at ease so that he shifted, putting his hands on his knees.

McGonagall conjured two extra seats and everyone sat down, Mr. and Mrs. Potter sat closest to Harry.

"I heard you were able to cast Corporeal Patronus," Fleamont said.

"He did what!?" James exclaimed.

Harry smiled, "A Corporeal Patronus. I thought they were cool and reading Fantastic Beasts kind of freaked me out. I never want to meet a dementor."

"What is it? I mean what animal is your Patronus?"

Harry's smile widened, "A stag."

"No way!" James almost yelled. "I don't believe it! That's what my a- er, what my favorite animal is…" he finished rather lamely.

Fleamont gave him a peculiar look, "I thought your favorite animal was a Horntail?"

"Those are the worst," Harry said emphatically. Then he caught himself with as little grace as James had. "They are the worst type of dragon, ever. Or, um- so I read, you know, in Fantastic Beasts."

"Well stags are my favorite non-magical animals," James defended himself.

"Dragons and deer?" Euphemia asked, confused. "Your two favorite animals are fire breathing dragons and then the common deer?"

James not trusting himself to speak, merely nodded.

Euphemia narrowed her blue eyes at him but let it go, "Learn something new every day, I suppose."

"So Harry," Fleamont redirected, "we were told you had nowhere else to go? Is that the complete truth? Aren't there any adults from the magical community or the muggle one who could vouch for you?"

"No, sir. I never met my father, so I can't tell you if he is alive or not but I saw… I remember my mother dying. I was taken in by a family who knew her but didn't like her. They never spoke of her or the choices she made in life. I was told my father was drunk but I don't really believe them. They kicked me out and I came here on the off chance I might find some living family. I have nowhere else to go..." Except for an orphanage, but Harry was more likely to find a job then go back under any muggle guardianship.

Fleamont and Euphemia exchanged looks.

Euphemia asked, "Do you know when your birthday is?"

"No, but I know I will be turning sixteen soon."

Another glance.

McGonagall coughed, "Is it possible, Fleamont that Harry is your-"

"No, it is not possible," Euphemia said firmly.

"The resemblance between your son and Harry is quite remarkable," Professor Sprout said gently.

Euphemia shook her head, not in denial, but in resolute faith that her husband would never want or dare to cheat on her.

"My father has been a widower for over twenty years, and he often goes by Harry," Fleamont said.

"I can go get Filius to cast an inheritance Charm," Professor Sprout offered.

Harry looked a little nervous, "How does that work?"

Sprout smiled at Harry reassuringly, "Just a drop of blood from the oldest family member in the room. Silver chain of light between siblings, golden for child and parent."

Harry wasn't sure what that charm would do or what would happen if a gold chain connected James and Harry.

But before he could protest, Fleamont nodded and Sprout left the room and returned shortly thereafter with Professor Flitwick.

In a complex series of wand motions and Fleamont passing over a smudge stick to Flitwick, there was light.

Gold light, like suspended electricity extended from Fleamont to James, and from James to Harry.

The room waited for the colors to change between Harry and James to silver or for an additional gold line connect Fleamont and Harry, but it didn't. James was Fleamont's son, Harry was James's son. James and Harry were the same age and Flitwick, a master in his field hadn't miscast the spell.

Harry guessed the only logical explanation would be time travel, that all his lies were about to crush him and Dumbledore was going to rip into his mind and find some way to keep him as a pet.

Instead, Flitwick supposed he must have made a mistake. He re-casted the spell, this time with a droplet of Euphemia's blood. Golden light from Euphemia to James and a dull silver to Minerva McGonagall from Euphemia. And from James a line of electric gold to Harry.

Flitwick dropped the spell, "I'm sorry, I don't understand why it is not behaving properly."

'Because I broke time and space to be here,' Harry thought.

"Well," Euphemia said, "I don't remember having twins but I suppose it is possible that Harry is related to both the Potter and Ross families."

"You're the last pureblood from the Ross family, Euphemia," McGonagall said.

"Yes, but family is always messier than titles," Euphemia said. "It doesn't matter in the end, Harry is one of ours, he has nowhere to go, or at least nowhere that he would be welcome. I have always wanted more children. Whichever way the branches of the family tree may fall, Harry is not responsible for his birth and will not be punished for it. He is a Potter and he is still in school. He is ours, end of discussion."

Harry felt his heart swell and he wanted very much to hug his grandmother at that moment.

"Very well," McGonagall said professionally, but Harry could see the pride in her eyes. "Harry is officially enrolled in his classes and as he only has two years left we are willing to pay for his supplies-"

"Nonsense," Fleamont said, "It is our honor to provide for him."

She nodded, "Then everything is accounted for then. I'm sure James will want to ride back on the train with his friends in the morning, and he no doubt needs to pack but Harry-"

"I don't have anything," Harry said, "I mean, I have my wand, the clothes on my back, and Hedwig, but I didn't bring anything else."

McGonagall frowned, "So you left your wizarding books in a muggle house?"

"No," Harry said. "My foster family burned them."

"Oh," McGonagall said, the surprise clear on her face, "did they happen to read them before they burned them?"

Harry laughed, "Aside from the titles, no. The words magic, flying, and/or anything else abnormal was strictly forbidden."

Everyone in the room frowned at Harry, but he saw understanding on McGonagall's face, "Your bouts of accidental magic must have been-"

"Rough," Harry finished for her, "I mean I'm okay but I never, ever want to go back there."

"Unless you want to ride the train, Harry," Fleamont began, "you can come home with Euphemia and me tonight. I will pick James up at the station tomorrow."

"I think I would like to go back with you tonight," Harry said, relieved. "I think I have had enough of Hogwarts for the time being."

"Surely it wasn't that bad," Sprout said lightly, "You were sorted into Hufflepuff after all."

James couldn't keep the grumpy expression off his face.

Euphemia smiled, "Hufflepuff, hear that sweety, a Hufflepuff."

Fleamont blinked but after a moment he laughed, "Oh my father is going to be perturbed and delighted. His wife, my mother was a Hufflepuff, you see, but typically any child who comes to Hogwarts with the last name Potter is guaranteed a spot in Gryffindor."

"The Sorting Hat said Gryffindor would be disastrous for me," Harry said.

"Why?" James asked.

Harry shrugged, but thought it might have something to do with the early stages of the war beginning with Slytherins versus Gryffindor.

"Oh Dad," James said suddenly, "Harry was a hatstall."

"Really?" Fleamont asked, "That's rare."

Flitwick laughed, "It may be rare but almost half the number of people in this room were hatstalls."

McGonagall smiled, "I was almost sorted into Ravenclaw."

Flitwick smiled up at his much taller colleague, "And I was almost sorted into Gryffindor."

"Harry?" James asked, "What house were you almost sorted into? Bet it was Ravenclaw because you read so much."

"Nope," Harry said cheerfully, "the Sorting Hat was tempted to sort me into Slytherin, something about me being a Parselmouth."

Harry wasn't sure that was the smartest thing to say but he thought it would be easier to keep his secrets about being from the future if he gave them flashy truths to obsess over instead.

Everyone in the room paled a bit.

Sprout cleared her throat and asked nervously, "You can talk to snakes?"

"Yep, is that rare too?"

The adults were a little wary of this new development, each of them thinking that it best that the no one outside this room learns that in the shadow of the brewing war.

James looked like he was going to be sick.

"It is extremely rare," Flitwick said. "And usually hereditary but Herpo the Foul was born with it and he had no relation to Salazar Slytherin."

"Cool," Harry said.

"Cool?" James repeated, "It isn't cool, Harry, it is Dark Magic."

"No, it isn't, James Ross Potter," Euphemia scolded. "It has a bad reputation but no, it is not a magick within the Dark Arts."

"But-"

"James, your mother is right," Fleamont said. "Now, it is getting quite late, I am sure you will be staying up late with your friends but I would like to get Harry settled at home before midnight."

They apparated, Harry went side along with Fleamont to Potter Manor.

It wasn't huge but the grounds… Harry felt the glamour barrier they walked through that would keep muggles away. They walked along a lantern lit path and most of the flowers were closed but others… Harry had never been to the green houses at night and the night blooming flowers of the magical variety were breathtaking. Some of the flowers gave off their own light.

"Do you like them?" Euphemia asked him.

Harry startled but smiled at her, "I love them. I've never seen plants like these."

Euphemia grinned, "They are all from my greenhouse. Pomona and I -Pomona Sprout, had a rivalry going when we were in school. We were in the same year, though I was in Ravenclaw, and we used to spend hours in the green houses after hours. Once we figured out how to breed them- well-"

Fleamont laughed, "Once they figured out how to breed plants they almost got themselves expelled on more than one occasion."

Harry's eyes widened, "Why?"

"We created monster plants, invasive species, and," she laughed warmly, "and I think we will share some of my troublemaking years for another time."

Hedwig emerged from the shadows, swooping down to land on Harry's shoulder.

"Hi, Hedwig," Harry greeted.

Fleamont gave the owl an odd look, "Did she know where you would be before you did? The flight from Hogwarts would take a few hours."

"Probably, Hedwig is the smartest avian you'll ever meet."

"She's lovely," Euphemia said.

Hedwig hooted her approval than took back off into the clear night sky, the large grounds and the gardens providing an excellent opportunity for prey.

The manor itself was old and small for what the term 'manor' usually implied. The ceilings were vaulted and windows took up most of the front of the house and the living room.

"Welcome home!" Fleamont holding the door opened wide for his wife and Harry.

Harry suddenly felt overwhelmed.

Home. It was something he had given up hope on when Sirius had flown away on Buckbeak at the end of his third year.

"There will be time to give you the grand tour when the sun is up, I think," Euphemia said, "but for now this way to your room."

His room.

They went up the steps and the manor had character and little wizard oddities such as railing that leaned into your touch, hallway lights that danced when someone walked under them, and a clock that told the time with a little sun moving over a map of Britain, casting real time shadows helping to show what time of day or night it wasn't as chaotic as the Weasley's house but not as 'civilized' as the Dursleys. It was a place Harry was hoping beyond hope that he could stay.

Harry's room was a medium sized room with antique furniture, an empty bookshelf, and a queen sized bed. On the bed, there was a pair of pajamas.

"We can decorate the room however you like tomorrow and we will go to Diagon Alley to buy you clothes after we go pick up James," Fleamont said.

All Harry could think to say was, "Thank you."

"We want you to feel welcome here, Harry," Euphemia said, looking for his a reaction.

He smiled at her, and said again, "Thank you."

She smiled and then took a hesitant step towards him, "Good night, Harry."

Harry even more hesitantly stepped closer and offered her a hug.

Her arms were the safest place Harry had ever known. Fleamont from behind his wife hugged both of them.

Surely, this is what home must feel like.

Harry got up early and still in his pajamas, seeing as they fit him better than Dudley's clothes. He found the kitchen with ease. Large windows overlooked Euphemia's gardens and the distant hills. Harry got to watch the sun rise over the horizon as he prepared breakfast.

Harry had the frying pans washed and the table set by the time Fleamont and Euphemia entered the grand kitchen as Harry thought of it and its adjoining dining room.

His grandparents gaped at him, the table, then back to him again.

"You did this?" Euphemia asked.

Harry nodded, "I like to cook." Well, he liked to cook when no one was threatening him with head trauma and foul dogs.

Fleamont's eyes narrowed, "You look like James but I am starting to believe you two are extremely different people."

Harry shifted on his feet, "Is that a good thing?"

Euphemia, with all the grace and energy of a woman half her age, went to the table and snatched a slice of bacon. Her expression was pure bliss, "If it means you cook like a professional chef, yes, it's a good thing."

"Come sit, Masterchef," Fleamont said waving Harry over to the table, "come eat with us."

Harry smiled and hurriedly took his seat beside his grandfather and across from his grandmother.

"Thank you, Harry," Euphemia said.

Fleamont echoed her, only with a mouth full of bacon.

Another man wandered into the kitchen and Harry jumped out of his seat. "Sorry," he said, "I didn't realize there was anyone else here."

"No need to apologize, my dear boy," the man said and held out his hand for a firm handshake.

The man was old, his hair a shock of white on his hair, but he looked like he was in shape, and his pale brown eyes were bright. In fact, Harry thought he looked more athletic than Fleamont, definitely bulkier with broader shoulders.

"Euphemia," he said in a chiding voice, "why didn't you tell me you had twins?"

She rolled her eyes at him, "Harry, this Henry Potter, Fleamont's father, Henry, this is Harry Potter."

She waved her wand and another plate prepared itself, Harry and Henry took their seats.

"So, Harry," Henry said with a smile, "-they call me Harry too, by the way, tell me about yourself."

"Um," Harry said, elegantly.

"Harry was sorted into Hufflepuff," Euphemia answered for him, seeing his apprehension. "Fleamont and I told you Harry's story last night, no need to get into his full history at the table."

"Hufflepuff!" Henry exclaimed, "No Potter has ever been sorted into anything but Gryffindor before, that is if they attended Hogwarts. Although Hufflepuff is a respectable -if an underrated, house. My darling Clari was a Hufflepuff."

"I myself was guilty of being sorted into Ravenclaw," Euphemia whispered.

"Clari," Henry said as if he hadn't heard Euphemia, which perhaps he hadn't, judging by how loud he was speaking. "She was the kindest girl on the planet. Kindness, my boy, there is no strength in this world so undervalued as kindness in this lost and scrupulous world."

Henry began to regale them with stories of his youth, of his Clari, Harry's great-grandmother who had been a midwife. Fleamont gave Harry an apologetic look, but Harry was enthralled. This was his family, this was his great-grandfather telling him about his life and Harry's family.

It was by far the best breakfast Harry had ever had.

Diagon Alley was… it was more and less than it would be in the future. There were more shops and people. The storefronts were polished and orderly, without the rustic and somewhat beaten exteriors that Harry had come to expect.

On the other hand, despite the greater number of shoppers, they seemed more secretive and wary of one another. Harry was afraid to either spill his own secrets or say something that might alienate his grandparents so he remained mostly quiet. However, his clear interest in his surroundings and in what his grandparents were saying kept the conversation flowing.

Sure, Harry knew about the wizarding world, but he had received only a crash course from Hagrid and picked up little pieces along the way with the Weasleys, who had just assumed he knew about the world. Fleamont and Euphemia were more detailed and less exasperated by Harry's questions.

Harry let Euphemia pick out his clothes. Harry didn't have much of a preference as long he fit in with his peers. Standing out, except for on the Quidditch pitch was never his favorite thing.

Fleamont bought Harry one present, a new broom. He had let Harry pick it out and Harry had not chosen the most expensive, he chose the one that had the most build up of speed and least stabilization. Harry was glad that Fleamont didn't let Euphemia see the broom's low safety score. But Harry didn't want safe. He wanted fast. Besides he was a good enough flier that he could keep his own balance in the sky. As much as he liked the Firebolt, in some respects, some of the older school brooms had been faster in a dive.

Had he almost scraped his knees on the ground? Yes, but that had been half the fun.

They picked James up from the station before lunch. Harry watched the semi-familiar faces pass by.

His heart skipped a beat when he spotted the Black sisters, all three of them. Andromeda and Bellatrix looked alike. Andromeda was perhaps the most beautiful person Harry had ever laid eyes on. Even at a distance, her brown eyes were warm and intelligent, her hair a waterfall of chestnut waves. Bellatrix was a colder, darker version of her sister. Her black hair was held back in a sleek ponytail, her eyes hard as granite and when they met Harry's gaze of the ground he didn't see the insanity from her image on the Daily Prophet, he saw a dangerous, cold intellect. Like staring into the eyes of an eagle, predator and inhuman, but not mad.

Harry didn't look away, and Bellatrix soon dismissed him.

She walked with a stiffness that was at odds with her sisters' liquid grace.

Narcissa must have been a year or so younger than Harry was now, she was a petite blonde, and if it wasn't for her attitude he would not have believed the three of them were related. But her expression was a cross between Bellatrix's coldness and Andromeda's elegance.

It was almost sad to know one day they would be separated, they walked in a unit that was apart from the crowd.

Sirius caught up with them after waving goodbye James, a mini Sirius, Harry assumed was Regulus following at his heel. The five Blacks disappeared into a fireplace that was set up on the wizarding side of the station.

"Harry!" James called as approached them.

"Hi, James," Harry said with a smile.

"How'd you like the family manor?" James asked.

Harry's smile widened, "I love it, you were certainly lucky to be born with such a family."

James laughed, "I don't think being born is decided by luck, weirdo."

"No name calling," Euphemia chided.

"Where are we going now?" James asked, as Fleamont shrunk and pocketed James' luggage. He spotted someone over Harry's shoulder and shouted, "Bye Lily Evans! Have a spectacular summer!"

The red head ignored him. Harry spotted Snape who shot James a taunting smirk as he walked with Lily shoulder to shoulder as they went through the barrier.

James deflated, "Would does it take to get her attention?"

"Maybe you should try to stop yelling at her," Harry suggested.

James gave Harry a skeptical look, "But I want her to notice me."

Harry swung an arm around James's shoulder as they walked out of the station, "The thing I think you're missing is the difference between positive and negative attention."

James tilted his head, and asked with a heaping serving of drama. "Go on, wise one."

Harry tried to explain color to the blind with a patience that some would call saint worthy.

"Yep," Fleamont said to his wife, "They might look alike, but I don't think our two boys could be any more different if they tried."

Euphemia took her husband's hand, smiling up at him she said joyously, "Our sons."

Fleamont smiled back at her, he had always regretted not being able to give her more children, and Harry, well, Harry was more than they could have wished for.

After lunch, the Potter family, excluding Henry who was still at home reading his books, went to the beach. A small cove near London with a little stretch of beach, that didn't have have any other visitors, considering the beach was mostly rocks.

Harry and James didn't mind the rocks. They kept their shoes on and removed their shirts, soaking up some much needed vitamin D. They searched for odd reflective stones and played tag as the waves crashed into them. Fleamont and Euphemia stayed closer to shore walking along the shoreline like newlyweds. The love between tangible and unfaltering.

As Harry paused to watch them he noticed the strange formation of rocks that met the water. There wasn't anything he could point a finger at as being out of place but he thought the cave…

He shook his head. Cave? There was no cave in those stones, or at least no way for him to know that there was or wasn't a cave there. So why did he have the third sense that there was something there? Something familiar? Something-

"HARRY!"

Harry turned to see James waving his arms in the air as he ran towards him.

Harry frowned and waved back.

When James got closer Harry saw the horror and panic on his father's face through the droplets of water on his glasses.

"RUN! HARRY, RU-"

The warning came too late. Something with sharp teeth bit into his leg and pulled him under the water.

Even through the waves, he heard the muffled sound of feminine screaming.

Harry reached for his wand and tried not to thrash against the thing that had a death grip on his left calf. He never reached his wand as another set of teeth latched onto his right forearm.

By some miracle, his glasses stayed on and even as he breathed in lung fulls of burning salt water. He was able to get a glimpse of the creatures set on murdering him.

Black horses, at least their front half, and fishtails for their rear half. Unlike real horses, their teeth were razor sharp, and they were carnivorous.

Harry knew that they drowned their prey before consuming them and that fending them off by magical means wasn't exactly hard to do, that is if he had his wand and was not suffocating.

Knowing the incantation Harry shouted the spell, pushing his power through his hand even as his lungs screamed and black dots clouded his version.

The charm worked, or at least Harry's power got the Kelpie to release him. Harry pointed his hand at the other Kelpie, and throw his energy into it again, the water horse released him.

Harry was left to float under the waves, his body cramping with the lack of oxygen, his wounds bleeding crimson to pink into the water around him. Before he could summon the thought to swim up, he was caught in a current.

Like a lifeless bit of debris, he was rolled in the waves and slammed against sharp stones. His skull connecting with a distinctive clunk.

For the briefest moments, Harry envisioned a golden cup and silver, somehow sibilant locket in a crystalline cave. The locket hissed at him and then the moment was over and blackness consumed him.

Harry Potter knew no more.

When next Harry woke, it was to the relieved and wane face of his grandmother gazing down at him.

"Oh, Harry," she said, voice breaking as tears trailed down her face. "You're awake, you're finally awake. The healers said you would make a full recovery but when you didn't wake up…" She shook her head and wept silently holding onto his hand in an almost painful grip.

Harry was not surprised or all that worried about another near death experience within the jaws of yet another unexpected magical creature. However, he did have one pressing question, how long had he been unconscious?

AN: Yes, yes more whiplash action scenes, brace yourselves there will be much more to come. Thank you to the reviewers :D

Chapter 5: Withering

AN: From what could discover, I can only assume that when Voldemort retrieved both the Locket and the Cup together he stashed them in the same place. Nobody is after the up and coming Dark Lord at the moment and my theory is the Horcruxes were not moved until after he had Bella around and then Regulus to check the wards.

Chapter 5 - Withering

Harry felt like he had been gypped, again.

Not only had been in a suspended sleep for two months but the next Hogwarts term started in two days.

Two days in which he was forced to stay at St. Mungo's 'to make sure all was normal' which considering that a magical creature attack was pretty normal to Harry was a bit absurd. And as if to add insult to injury, he was to check in daily with Madam Pomfrey for the next two weeks.

It must have been a record, a formal mandate to hospital wing before September 1st.

Harry was sitting in a chair by the window looking down at the passers-by in muggle London, heedless of the magical hospital they were walking by.

Harry thought maybe he could go visit the Longbottoms, maybe Neville will be there…

And then he remembered that Neville hadn't been born yet.

Harry put his cheek on his arm where he was leaning on the window sill. Time Travel was great but Hogwarts was going to be hard without the people he knew.

Then again Hogwarts had never been easy. He tried to cheer himself, which was difficult considering he had missed out on his first summer vacation with a loving family.

He shook himself, Neville might not be born yet but Alice and Frank Longbottom were still alive and sane.

Harry needed to make sure they stayed that way. He couldn't count on anyone in this world taking down Voldemort, and Harry had the advantage as Voldemort wouldn't know to be worried about a teenage boy.

Which left Harry to mull over how to take out the Horcruxes and Harry was positive there was more than one, more than the Diary, at least. But he had no idea how to find them or even where to begin looking. He thought about it all afternoon once his fretting grandparents and immensely entertaining would-be-father left.

When he wasn't directing his boredom at other people, James did have a decent sense of humour.

Harry concluded that he wouldn't be able to do anything about the Horcruxes knowing as little as he did. Considering how obscure Secrets of the Darkest Art had been, he very much doubted that he would be able to find anything about soul magic in any Defense Against the Dark Arts book.

Which meant one thing, if Harry wanted to defeat Voldemort he would have to learn more about the Dark Arts. He slumped in his seat.

Being sorted in Slytherin might have been more convenient.

Euphemia acted almost traumatized around Harry, which he deeply regretted. Not a full twenty four hours in her gaining custody over a new ward and Harry had gotten himself caught and almost eaten by Kelpies not a hundred yards away from her.

Harry couldn't even promise that nothing like that was going to happen again. One because his luck was always that messed up and two he was actively planning to single handled take down a Dark Lord and stop a war before it happened.

His safety wasn't something he could promise, but Harry would be damned if he brought James down with him.

No, he had fully decided to keep James safe. Wormtail wasn't a Death Eater yet, but Harry was going to plant the seeds of doubt about his supposed loyalty. Harry was also planning to do his best to play peacemaker between the Marauders and Slytherins. Lofty goals as these were, Harry needed to ensure that even if he died that he left something better behind him. It wasn't like everyone was given the chance to rewrite the fabric of time every day.

Euphemia nearly squeezed the life out of him when they hugged goodbye on the platform. It felt like yesterday to Harry that they had been picking James up. Fleamont's hug was just as tight and even Henry looked concerned for him.

Harry was astounded that these people could have known him for such a short period of time and yet care for him so deeply.

And yet, didn't Harry himself already love them? Maybe that is just what family was. Blood was an excuse to love people before you even knew much about them.

Euphemia gave him another bone crushing hug, "You be good, you hear me?" she threatened.

Harry nodded, he supposed that fighting for goodness made his consent to be good not a lie?

"They are going to be late, darling," Fleamont told his wife softly.

She stepped back tears in eyes. James led Harry away.

Harry didn't want to leave.

His grandparents and great grandfather blew them kisses and waved as the train pulled away from the station.

From Harry's perspective, Sirius looked like crap. He laughed a little too hard and he looked raw around the edges.

Harry knew that Sirius was going to run away from home next year and all Harry wanted to do was find Mrs. Walburga Black and hex her into the next century.

Wormtail sat in the opposite corner from Harry, and Remus was with the prefects.

James mainly talked about himself throughout the train ride, Sirius refused to talk about his summer, Wormtail was to busy drooling over James to think for himself, and Harry had been unconscious for the last two months. He really didn't have much to say.

"So Harry," Sirius asked, "James wrote that you had been attacked by Kelpies."

"Yep," Harry answered.

Sirius rolled his eyes, "Well come on, details, my man, what happened and how did you survive?"

"I was in the water, then there were Kelpies, one bit my leg and pulled me under and the other bit my arm. I managed to cast a placement charm on them both but I was too far under the waves and then I crashed into the cliffs. I hit my head and woke up yesterday." Harry shrugged, "I don't have anything else to say."

Sirius narrowed his eyes at Harry, "You seem to be handling it alright."

Harry shrugged again, "I'm annoyed I didn't get to spend the summer at home." He hadn't had a summer.

"Annoyed? You have huge teeth mark scars on your leg and forearm now and you're worried about missing a summer vacation?"

"Sirius," Harry sighed, "I have a lot of scars, I don't see how a few more make all that much more difference." In fact, Harry liked that the Kelpie scar covered up the one he had gotten from a broken arm.

"How did you get the one on your forehead?" Sirius asked.

"Why are you using a glamour to cover up a black eye?" Harry asked in return.

Sirius flinched back from him.

James's eyes went wide, "What is he talking about?"

Sirius shook his head and glared at Harry. "There is no way you could have seen that."

"So he's right? Padfoot are you alright?" James pressed.

"I guessed," Harry answered Sirius's question and stood up.

"Where are you going?" James asked.

"To find some Hufflepuffs," Harry said taking his luggage with him.

Wormtail hid a grin from the others when the door shut behind Harry.

Harry found Ted Tonks a couple compartments down, sitting with none other than Andromeda Black. Ted waved at him.

"Hi, Harry," Ted greeted warmly, "this is Andromeda Black."

Harry held out his hand. Andromeda raised a single brow.

Ted laughed, "Women from Pure Blood families don't shake hands, Harry."

"Oh," Harry said, slightly embarrassed and awakedly let his hand fall. "Sorry, I didn't mea-"

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter," Andromeda said cooly, though her eyes shown with an inner warmth.

"Harry," he corrected, "please call me Harry."

"You may call me Andromeda," she said in return.

"Oooh," Ted cued, "'Andromeda' already, it took me three years until you let me call you by your first name, Droms." His face was alight with laughter.

Harry took a seat and felt himself relaxing, Ted -if it were possible, was more fun to be around than Nymphadora. He just had a way of making you feel at ease with the world.

Andromeda flexed her wrist, which caused the top layer of Ted's robes to cover his head. He fell to the floor laughing as he tried to untangle himself. Andromeda watched him stiffly, but Harry caught the tiny, almost unperceivable smile on the corners of her lips.

When Ted finally untangled himself he stayed on the floorboards, catching his breath from nearly laughing himself to death.

"So," Harry began, "are you two an official couple?"

Andromeda coughed and Ted spiraled down into another round of laughter.

Andromeda naturally got ahold of her humour first, "No, my family would kill him."

"Besides," Ted said still grinning at Harry as if he had just said the most wonderful joke, "we are just friends."

Harry looked between the two frowning, he didn't see the slightest hint that they were hiding anything or lying to him. "But-" Harry caught himself, but you two have a kid together, probably shouldn't be said aloud.

"But why are we hanging out together?" Andromeda finished for him, "Why is a muggleborn and a pure blood friends?"

Harry shrugged, he still didn't understand why that was a problem to begin with but Andromeda answered her own question.

"Because I'm the middle child and even if Ted and I are seen together at Hogwarts no one would ever believe we would get along."

"An open secret, as you might call it," Ted said with a charming smile.

Harry didn't believe them, but maybe it was the pair of them were lying to themselves about what they felt for each other. Either way, it wasn't really Harry's problem. "How were both your summers?"

"Great!" Ted enthused, "My family and I went to India for a community service thing. It was stupid hot but really fun. Spices, man, are the spice of life."

Andromeda rolled her eyes, "Mine was… well, I would say boring but my mother and aunt spent all summer trying to woo my eldest sister, Bellatrix into picking a groom."

Harry frowned, "Shouldn't the perspective groom being trying to woo her?"

Andromeda smirked, "Not unless my mother wants her sent to Azkaban for murdering eligible pure blood bastards, my apologies, I meant pure blood bachelors."

Ted chuckled.

"So who is she marrying?" Harry asked.

Andromeda shrugged, "She doesn't have to legally decide until she is twenty, so we will not know for another two years, if my mother survives that long."

"I'd be more worried about your aunt," Ted remarked. "You always make Walburga sound scary."

"She is scary," Andromeda said, "Scary and too bitter to ever die early."

"How's Regulus?" Harry asked suddenly. Sirius only mentioned his little brother once.

Andromeda's eyes focused on him sharply, "What did you hear?"

"Nothing, but I am pretty sure Sirius had a black eye."

Her jaw flexed, "I hate the bitch, I truly do."

For the first time, Ted looked serious, "Is Regulus alright?"

Andromeda nodded, "Sirius is the punching bag of the family. I know he enjoys his time at Hogwarts, but Gryffindor might just have been the worst thing to ever happen to him."

"The Potters," Hare started, "aside from James, didn't mind I had been sorted into Hufflepuff." He looked out the window, wishing that this summer hadn't been stolen from him.

"The Potters are good people," Ted said, then smirked, "aside from James."

Harry turned back to him grinning, "He's full of himself but I don't think he is a bad person."

"He isn't," Andromeda said, "but his jokes go to far a lot of the time and between him and Sirius the Gryffindor Quidditch team has been unstoppable for the last four and now likely five years."

Harry's mouth quirked, "What does that have to do with his character?"

"Besides adding to his ego," Ted said, "it means everyone is bitter. According to Gryffindor House, James Potter can do no wrong."

"Lily Evans didn't appear to believe that."

Ted laughed.

Andromeda shook her head, "Poor girl. Potter would be dead by now if he tried 'courting' me like that."

"I bet she secretly likes him and if Severus wasn't her best friend she'd probably already fallen for him," Ted said.

"Severus?" Harry asked.

Ted gave him a look, "James hasn't told you about Severus Snape?"

"I have been unconscious in a hospital bed from the start of Summer vacation until yesterday," and yes, Harry's own bitterness was audible.

"What!?" Ted exclaimed.

"Why?" Andromeda asked cooly, "I heard a rumour but it was hardly believable. No one imagined that the Euphemia would let her ward get attacked on the first day."

"She didn't let anything happen. We were at the beach and a pair of Kelpies came after me and then I hit my head on some rocks. If the Potters hadn't been there I would have drowned."

"Kelpies?" Ted squeaked.

"And how did they fight off Kelpies if they had already gotten a taste of you?" Andromeda pressed. "I can't see anyone being able to retrieve you in time to save you from a water horse that had presumably pulled you quite deep already."

Harry reached over and unlocked his trunk. Hedwig hooted at him in disapproval as he yet again had to shift her cage. He summoned his new copy of magical beasts and opened to the chapter on Kelpies. Harry had basically memorized this book after the first task in his fourth year. Between his luck and Hagrid, the information had served him well.

He passed the book off to Andromeda, "The placement charm isn't that difficult of a spell."

She nodded and passed back the book, Ted snatched it from her hand, "Damn, I never thought this book would be relevant in the real world."

"The spell is simple enough but not while being attacked and drowned," she said to Harry.

He shrugged, "Personally, I find that I am at best under stressful circumstances."

"And how many stressful situations have you been in the muggle world?" she asked, giving him a suspicious look.

Harry smiled brightly, "You have no idea how big this world is, Andromeda Black, magical or otherwise."

Their trio separated the moment they got off the train. The moment Harry released Hedwig to fly to her tower, Ted grabbed him by the wrist and half dragged at a half run to the carriages.

Harry laughed, "What's the hurry?"

"We have to get the carriages before your brother-cousin rigs them," Ted said without slowing.

Harry huffed, "Quit joking around."

"I am not joking and I am not walking into the great hall smelling like swamp water again or covered in a pelt of grass. Half the school had to go to the Hospital wing after the great feast. Damned Potter."

Harry realized then that Ted was completely serious and kept up with other man's fast pace.

They found a carriage with a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw.

The Ravenclaw was none other than Lockhart, and the Slytherin was Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Harry was about to greet the respectable man warmly when he snarled in a harsh and deep voice, "Get out, Potter."

Harry backed up, fully ready to do what he was told but Ted shoved him back into the carriage, forcing him to scramble to keep from landing on the other boys' legs.

Ted came in and slammed the door behind Harry. He waved at the two boys as he relaxed into his seat, a bit winded he said, "Shacklebolt, Lockhart, meet Harry Potter."

"Ah," Kingsley said, "My apologies Potterpuff, your brother is a tosser."

Harry blinked, "Um, he's not my brother." Jeez, apparently Wormtail wasn't the only rude person.

Lockhart laughed derisively, "You really believe you aren't Fleamont's illegitimate child, his half blood bastard, that's cute."

Harry wanted to be civil, he really did, but seeing as future Lockhart once tried to wipe his memories, all his memories, he didn't particularly care about to be the polite one. The Holly Wand had hit the blonde teen with a silencio and an overpowered tickling charm before the boy could so much as reach for his wand.

Apparently, he had always been bad at dueling.

Kingsley made no motion to help Lockhart neither did Ted. Harry didn't release him until they were about halfway to the castle.

Lockhart gasped loudly and scrambled as far away from Harry as possible. "I thought Hufflepuffs were supposed to be nice," he panted.

"We are also loyal, moss wipe, insulting my guardians to my face isn't going to make us friends."

Ted laughed, "Oh, Harry, you are going to make our house proud."

Kingsley gave Harry Potter an appraising look, he had been fully prepared to detest James Potter's pseudo twin, but Harry had both a spine and a lack of malice that was quite refreshing. He had put the fourth year Ravenclaw in his place without hurting him and without humiliating him too badly. It was impressive and Kingsley had not expected to be impressed by Hufflepuff Potter.

The feast went as feasts went, the only unusual thing was how aggressive the Sorting Hat's song was.

Come one and come all

How I wish to unsort you all

Welcome to the hard times,

Welcome to the beginning of the dark times.

000

The Noble House of Gryffindor,

How you've come to follow Dumbledore,

You put your actions above your words

No one is blameless when darkness occurs

000

And then the House of the Ravenclaws,

Forgotten what you've learned in these great halls,

Your books will not always help you,

Look up from those pages, why don't you?

000

The powerhouse of Slytherin,

Leaders among you withering

Think for yourselves

What hope do you see in farewells?

000

Oh and now it's your turn my sweet Hufflepuffs,

Don't believe you'll get by on bluffs

Loyal you may be

But you must be the harbor between those who disagree

000

So come one and come all

To this time so great yet so small

Who among you will survive?

If unchanged none of you shall thrive.

000

No one clapped. The professors looked downright horrified, the first years... Oh, Merlin, the first years were scared out of their wits, two of them looked they were about ready to wet themselves.

Harry was one hundred percent certain this was his fault, or at least the result of the Sorting Hat snooping around in his head. As someone who knew what was going to happen, he was not as surprised or worried as the people in the great hall. Harry was, however, somewhat disappointed in the hats rhymes. Two months and that is the best he could do?

Harry looked over to James and Sirius, who were whispering with Remus.

Beyond them, Harry made eye contact with Severus Snape who was staring at him coldly.

And because the Slytherin couldn't take points away from him, Harry winked at the boy and smiled at him cheekily.

Severus looked away from him with an expression of disgust. Narcissa looked up from where she had been whispering to Andromeda to see what had disturbed Severus.

Harry Potter, yes, she thought warily, another Potter is quite disturbing.

KEYNOTE: I know I said this is a Harry/Andromeda fic but nothing is going to happen to Ted to make that possible. Ted is going to be around for the long haul.

AN: Thank you so much for reading and to the reviewers. Please let me know if the story progression is enjoyable?

Chapter 6: Green and Red

KEYNOTE: The episode where Sirius sets up Snape to see/be attacked by Remus and Snape ends up owing a life debt to James, does not happen thanks to Harry's interesting arrival. This isn't to say Sirius isn't capable of doing such a thing, as many of you have noticed the Marauders are still bullies.

AN: I have memories of being bullied as earlier as a two years old, with my language disability I was an easy target for my peers, older students, and even teachers. The teachers were dicks but I don't hate the children who tried to hurt me.

Is it wrong that children take out their home issues on others? Of course, but that doesn't make them evil, nor that they are undeserving of forgiveness. They are not adults whose actions are solely a product of their own making. Are their young adults who cross the line, yes. My point is that there is a lot that can be forgiven and much more that can be healed if you but spare a bit of patience and kindness.

Chapter 6 - Green and Red

Harry was surprised at their class size. The sixth year Hufflepuffs numbered at four, Harry included. Edgar Bones, Daina Fishington, Ted Tonks, and Harry Potter. Edgar Bones was the only pure blood, and Daina, like Ted was a muggle born. Hufflepuff as a whole was small house Harry realized, in his time the houses had been more evenly distributed but the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables were at a glance noticeably more full than either Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff tables.

On their first day of classes, it also became clear why Ted had been extra friendly towards a newcomer. Harry gave Ted a class partner in his own house rather than him having to force interaction with other house students or play the third wheel.

Edgar and Diana weren't just friends, they were obviously -almost grossly, a couple. Harry realized that these were Susan Bones's parents. Diana had the same color hair and slight lisp that Susan had had.

It made Harry look around at lunch, and he did indeed, spot who he had been looking for.

Ted noticed his attention, "That's Amelia Bones, she's Head Girl and captain of the Quidditch team, she is a badass."

Harry already knowing this, was simply relieved she was alive. She had died not a year ago in Harry's mind and she had been a fair and kind to him during his trial.

Amelia noticed him staring, "Got something to say, Potter?"

"When are Quidditch tryouts?" with missing a beat Harry asked.

"This Friday, bring a broom," she turned back to the book she had been reading at the table.

Ted chuckled, "Nothing scares you, does it, Potter?"

Harry shrugged, "Plenty scares me. Do you play Quidditch?"

Ted laughed, "Merlin, no! I have no sense of coordination and my flying skills-" He shook his head. "Let's just say it's safer for everyone that my feet stay on the ground."

Unexpectedly, Potions was a fun class. Shared with the Ravenclaws there were less than fifteen students and Professor Slughorn was awesome.

Sure, Slughorn was a bit pretentious and said some things that were almost bigoted but unlike Snape, he obviously liked teaching. He seemed to take a great deal of joy in seeing students succeed and connect ideas. His class was also more theory based. Slughorn didn't just write the instructions on the board, he explained why one ingredient affected the other.

On one hand, the class was almost too technical, on the other Harry found the curiosity and excitement he had lost for the subject during his first year.

Ted was easy going and a bit of a class clown but he was also extremely hard working. He was a great partner, who -unlike Ron, really tried and -unlike Hermione, didn't attempt to micromanage everything Harry did.

As a team, Ted and Harry had the best potion in the class.

"You're really good at that," Ted said, as they were exiting.

"It's a bit like cooking, isn't it? But you are better at potions than I am."

Ted smiled, "I want to be a healer, I have to have top marks to get an apprenticeship. You cook? Glad I'm not the only one. Wizarding families look at you weirdly if you like to cook. Diana only knows how to bake cookies but most of the kids from muggleborn families barely know how to boil water."

"Baking is fun," Harry said, though he never got to eat the sweets he made. "I haven't had the chance to experiment much though. A healer? That's incredible, I don't think I have the constitution for that."

Ted smile grew, "Most people don't, but my mum always said that I am an unfailing optimist. Add that to me not minding getting my hands dirty, well, combining my best qualities and becoming a healer just seems like the right path. I want to help people get better and I have the abilities I need to do that."

Harry was at a loss for words, for all the laughter, Ted Tonks was incredibly mature. No one Harry knew of in his year had been thinking like that, not even Hermione.

"Oh," Ted exclaimed, "You and I should practice muggle cooking in the kitchens. I bet the house elves would love to teach us some recipes. They always get crazy excited when they get to help visitors."

Harry nodded, "That sounds like fu-"

"Leave me alone, Potter!" Lily shouted from further down the hall.

Harry's heart leapt into his throat. His memory started replaying 'Not Harry!' in his mind's ear.

He ran. Her voice was the only memory he had of his parents and he could not stand the thought of her being in distress.

"You heard her, Potter. Get lost," Snape snarled wand held at his side, as the lean teenager glared at the four Marauders.

James was trying to hold Lily's books for her and she was trying to get them back.

Harry pushed between Sirius and Remus to get at James. Harry snatched the books from James' hand as if he were stealing a quaffle. Harry shoved his shoulder into James', forcing him back a few steps. Ted who had followed Harry's lead got in Sirius's way as he tried to box Harry off.

Harry handed Lily her books and with a hand on her shoulder, quickly directed her towards the courtyard.

"Oi!" James and Sirius said together.

"See you around, cuz," Harry called over his shoulder.

Ted looped his arm in with Snape's, dragging the dower Slytherin along so the four of them stepped into the sunlight together.

They lost the Marauders in a crowd of third years who had just been released from their Charms class.

Lily sighed in relief as the bright sunlight warmed her pale skin.

Harry watched her, awed to see her this close, to see her alive and real. Snape glared at him and tore his arm away from Ted's with a snarled, "Let go of me."

"Thanks," Lily said to Harry, ignoring her friend's outrage.

Harry smiled, "Anytime." They stopped under the shade of one of the big trees. Harry took a polite few steps back from her before holding out his hand, "It is pleasure to meet you, Ms. Evans."

Lily stared at him with emerald green eyes, and Harry felt a moment of vertigo. When everyone in his old life had said he 'had his mother's eyes' they hadn't been exaggerating, it was like looking into a mirror. It wasn't just the color, they had the same eye shape and arch of eyebrows as well. Admittedly, his eyebrows and eyelashes were far darker than hers, but still...

She shook his hand with a steady grasp, "You can call me Lily and I'll call you Harry. I don't think I could call you Potter without grimacing."

Harry smiled, "James can be a git."

"He is a git," Snape muttered.

Harry shrugged, "No one's perfect. But if you ever need a distraction or a rescue you've only to ask." And with that, he turned to leave.

Lily was more real to Harry than James was. A part of him burned to hug her, to call her mum, to cry at her feet, to ask her for forgiveness, to yell at her for sacrificing herself for him... He had to get away from her. His heart and stomach were in knots.

Ted waved goodbye to Snape and Lily before joining Harry on their walk to the lake where they had agreed to finish their homework.

Lily frowned at Harry's retreating back, "He really is different than James, isn't he?"

Snape huffed, refusing to admit that any Potter could ever be deemed tolerable.

Harry's nightmares that night were relentless.

Green eyes.

Not Harry!

Green light.

Harry!? Where are you?

Hermione's voice fading into the distance.

Harry!

Euphemia's words were swallowed by the sound of rushing water.

Bodies, white, rotting bodies.

Stagnant water.

A crystal cave.

A boat.

Green water.

A gold cup.

A hissing locket.

"Nagini," Voldemort called in parseltongue.

Harry wasn't the snake this time, he watched from Voldemort's perspective.

The body of a muggle woman writhing on the ground.

"A few more disappearances, Nagini, no one will connect it back to little Tom-"

Voldemort looked up into a large mirror seeing his proud figure reflected back at him. His thick brown hair, his aristocratic nose, the fine lines of his brows. His cupid bow lips curled and Harry watched in horror as Voldemort thought, 'This is a fine face to catch my prey, to become their god.'

There was one flaw to his appearance, the hue of his eyes.

Red eyes.

Harry didn't have much of an appetite the next day.

Ted didn't ask if Harry was okay but he did go out of his way to cheer him up. Ted dragged Harry around the long way between each class.

Harry knew these halls of course, but he didn't know the best views to see the Forbidden Forest from nor get a peek into other classrooms. Nor did Harry know all names of the portraits or the stories behind them.

Harry knew how to sneak around the castle, but he didn't know all the silly secrets the castle had stored in its walls. As Ted pulled him around, enthusing about every small detail, where students had carved their names into stones, where ghosts claimed to have died compared to where they had actually died, Harry felt like he had truly given a second chance at life.

By the end of the day Harry's cheek muscles hurt from smiling so much.

Sixth year DADA was on Friday and all four houses were together.

Harry didn't care how good the professor may or may not be, someone was going to get hurt in this class, the tension could be felt like anvils balanced on all their heads.

One wrong move and it would crush their toes.

The Slytherins sat closest to the exit and the Gryffindors sat against the back wall.

Harry, Ted, and Edgar were only Hufflepuffs and there were only two Ravenclaws with them. Together their little group sat between the two feuding sides.

Professor Bartley's opening line did not subdue the tension, "This will be primarily a dueling class."

Harry groaned audibly. The moron was going to get them all killed.

He recognized almost everyone in the room as either being a Death Eater or dead. Ted, Sirius, Remus, and himself being the expectations.

"Do you have a problem with that, boy?" Professor Bartley demanded.

Harry who had been well and truly tried by DADA professors, looked straight into the professor's shallow blue eyes and said, "My name is Mr. Potter, Sir."

Harry watched with a detached sort of amusement as the professor ground his teeth. Every student in the room had their eyes glued on them.

It was a very James thing to do, to correct a teacher, but everyone in the room seemed to be aware that Bartley was an ex-Auror, who had at one time been Head of the DMLE.

He had also trained Mad-Eye Moody.

What the room didn't know was that if Harry had known this fact, he wouldn't have been impressed.

"Well then, Mr. Potter if you think that dueling practice is beneath you, why don't you show us what a homeschooled boy can do against a student from this fine establishment. Why not," he made a show of looking over the others, then pointed a large calloused finger at James, "Mr. James Potter, Fleamont's legitimate son."

Some of the students chuckled at that.

Harry didn't see how the idea of a man cheating on his wife was funny but to hell with it. Fleamont and Euphemia knew the truth, that Harry was not directly their son and that was all that mattered.

James came down the steps with a swagger -Lily was in the class after all.

Harry met her gaze and she gave him a small worried smile.

"I know he's only a Hufflepuff," Professor Bartley said to James, "but don't hold back. He has to learn to defend himself which he will not be able to do if you go easy on him."

James smirked at Harry. Apparently, James was going to take the professor's words to heart, or maybe he was still ticked about Harry's OWLs scores being better in this class than his.

"Go, Harry!" Ted cheered, "You can beat him! I believe in you!"

Harry couldn't help but smile, even as the other students chuckled at the idea that Hufflepuff could beat the notorious James Potter.

"Enough banter," Barkley said gruffly, "On my mark- begin!"

Harry sidestepped James stinging hex, and the following one, and the one after that.

James narrowed his eyes and he began to step to the side. As if in a dance, Harry began mirroring him. From the audience's perspective, they truly looked like a direct reflection of one another.

Harry saw several openings to hit James with a stunner but he wanted to see what James at sixteen was capable of.

Harry found himself disappointed; Levicorpus, Tongue-Tying Curse, and Petrificus Totalus. All of which Harry had only to sidestep. He might have been a Chaser but Harry was a Seeker.

Only when James used the Verdimillious Duo Spell did Harry cast a Protego charm.

At this point Harry was bored, James was certainly powerful but his arsenal was limited and his technique predictable. Harry was pretty sure that most of his DA club could have taken him.

Harry dropped the shield charm and with a practiced ease, said, "Stupefy."

James went down with a soft thud.

The room went deathly quiet. Even the Professor was wide eyed as he stared at Harry. Harry who had not only lasted against one of the top students of the year for a prolonged fifteen minutes but he didn't even have the decency to break a sweat. It was clear to everyone in the room that Harry could have ended the duel the moment it started.

Ted and Edgar stood up and clapped.

Everyone -not including the Gryffindors, joined in. Lily didn't clap but her grinning approval warmed Harry. He revived James before returning to his seat.

James sat up and looked around the room, some of the Slytherins jeered as the professor tried to regain control of the room.

Harry watched the Marauders. Remus and Sirius both looked impressed. They had a friendly go at James as he returned to his seat. Not even being able to hear the words, Harry could see Wormtail whisper poison into James' ear.

James made an 'enough' gesture with his hands at the sycophant, "Let it go, Peter, I don't have to be the best at everything. And I already knew he had better marks than me in this class. It's okay." He seemed to be saying what he needed to hear, but Harry was relieved nevertheless.

In Harry's time, Sirius had said that James grown out of being an idiot. Harry needed to believe that, even as he watched James regain his 'cool' and began running a hand through his hair to make it look windswept. Every girl on his side of the room -aside Lily, cooed over him.

While watching James, Harry didn't see the Slytherins watching him.

A new powerful half-blood who takes out the top of the class with leisure. A Potter who doesn't seem to have chosen a side.

AN: So the reviews seem to indicate a more positive upswing and that people want longer chapters. I don't like writing super long chapters, they happen but they aren't my norm. I will, however, slow down the speed of the timeline so you see more of the day to day stuff that I will do my best to keep upbeat.

Beta: Thank you to Basium1 for helping me.

Thoughts, reactions, please?

Chapter 7: Cestrum Nocturnum

Recap: Harry disrupted the timeline so Sev and Lily are still friends. Will they be romantic… no. But I can't say I am going to write a Lily and James love story in the sixth year, among other things there is no call for it from canon.

AN: I could describe what the Slytherins were up to but then this fic becomes like 'What We Lost' and I am trying my damndest to keep this fun, probably failing but I will soldier on. So, bad things are happening in the background but Harry is currently more interested in James' antics.

P.S. 6 to 10 hours a day of Hindi, you are all going to learn a little vocab. Hello to my Indian readers :D (I know India has hundreds of languages and Hindi is not the central one but still, hi).

P.S. Bellatrix just graduated. Kingsley, Andromeda, and Amelia are seventh years. Regulus and Narcissa are in their fifth years.

Chapter 7 - रात की रानी

"Cestrum Nocturnum," Ted said proudly as he gave Professor Sprout a packet of seeds.

"Thank you, my dear, you didn't have to get me anything," Sprout said flustered after receiving a gift.

"Nonsense, you are always saying you want to experiment with magical fertilizers with muggle flowering trees."

"Sorry for forgetting them at home, Harry's owl picked them up for me."

Sprout smiled and pulled her wand out and duplicated the packet as well as the seeds inside. She passed the second packet to Harry, "Well, if your owl doesn't mind another trip, I am sure Euphemia would love to have a go at growing Cestrum Nocturnum herself."

Harry accepted the packet but said, "That sounds like a spell." Or a curse.

"Its common name is Raat ki Rani, or Night Queen, it is a type of night blooming Jasmine," Ted explained.

"Cool," Harry said. "I am sure, Hedwig will not mind going back to the Potters. I think she gained a pound or two living there."

Ted laughed, "I wouldn't say that in front of her. I've never met someone with that much pride before."

Sprout frowned, "Are you talking about a person or an owl?"

Harry smiled, "She's an owl but I think she is smarter than most people."

"He's not joking," Ted agreed.

Harry was laugh hysterically. Clutching his middle and gasping for mercy.

Last night they had snuck into the kitchens and not only did the house elves teach them both how to bake magical cookies, but they had served their creations.

The cookies, made under the watchful eyes of hundreds of house elves tasted wonderful and each sugar cookie was beautifully decorated. There was absolutely nothing wrong with them, except for the way they sounded.

The house elves had baked enough for the entire student body were based on Harry and Ted's designs. Spelled designs.

So whenever someone took a bite out of the cookie, the cookie would yell in a tiny cookie sized voice, 'No! Please no! Don't eat me!' or 'Why!? Why!?' The screams weren't loud enough to be annoying. And many of the students were taking great delight in taking small bites of each cookie.

What got Harry was that Ted had added an extra spell. That spell was Shakespeare. Such as:

"Arms, take your last embrace! and lips, O you

The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss

A dateless bargain to engrossing death."

And;

"Death, death; oh, amiable, lovely death!

Come, grin on me, and I will think thou smilest."

Harry knew these quotes because over the summers trapped at the Dursleys he had read the discarded books from Dudley's school year and Ted knew them because Ted's father was an English teacher.

Ted was currently nibbling on a cookie that was caught between, "Why are you eating me?" and "Doomsday is near; die all, die merrily," which resulted in the odd mix of "Why eating me merrily? Die-Why! Eating merrily-" and so on.

"Don't kill the boy, I need him tomorrow," Amelia said, tersely.

Harry pulled himself together.

Straight faced, Amelia bit into a cookie.

"WHY ME!?" the cookie wailed.

Harry was lost again. Anyone near him was laughing too, not at the cookies but at Harry's laugh. His joy was completely contagious, not even Amelia could suppress a chuckle.

The first few weeks passed at an unbelievable rate. Harry was happy and as close to worry free as he had ever been.

He was no closer to finding out how to locate a Horcrux -other than himself, but finding his footing in this timeline was -time consuming.

Harry had never done so well in his classes and Ted was fantastic, at least compared to Ron, at time management. Meaning that while the pair of them had fun, they also studied together and got their work done in a timely fashion.

This wasn't to say they were always attached at the hip. Ted had Andromeda and Harry was doing his best to connect with James, which between James being a sometimes snob and being around Wormtail wasn't the easiest activity. Additionally, hanging out with James also meant that Lily went out of her way to avoid him.

Harry got along better with Sirius. Almost too well, as James sometimes seemed to get jealous of Harry stealing the spotlight.

Which was going to make today problematic and all that much more enjoyable.

Harry was a competitive person, but the opportunity to prove that he was a better flier than his father, now that he was alive and they were the same age. Oh, but if it wasn't out of his wildest (albeit silliest) dreams.

Amelia had one strategy, "Harry catch the snitch as soon as you possibly can. Everyone else- try not to be bludgeoned off your brooms."

"Aren't you supposed to motivate us?" their fourth year Chaser asked.

"This is a fine team, but the Gryffindor team has some of the best athletes. Craner doesn't know which side of his wand is which but put him on a broom… Our only hope is Potter," Amelia said. "Give us a quick death, Harry, and be warned that you may be a natural on a broom but the other Seeker is seasoned."

Harry nodded, and did his best to seem concerned. He wasn't concerned. He had been holding back in practices because no one who had just been introduced to flying could fly like he did. But that would end today. If anyone asked he could say he was seized by the moment, which come to think of it, was exactly what had happened the first time he sat on a broom.

They lined up on the field. James winked at Harry with a level of arrogance that could only be compared to Draco Malfoy. Harry was all too ready to flash that mentality down the drain.

Sirius smirked at Harry wickedly. For Sirius, it wasn't quite arrogance, so much as a thrill for a challenge, a hunt, with Harry being the prey. Harry had accounted a lot Godfather's unstable personality traits to him being locked up in Azkaban for over a decade, but the more time Harry spent with the younger Sirius, he thought it might have more to do with who he was as a person. Ultimately, Sirius was a good person but wrapped around that good person was a streak of something far more vicious and volatile. Something that drove him to push boundaries, to seek out conflict and chaos.

Was there really any wonder about him being a Beater?

And sure enough, mere moments after the whistle was blown, Harry was forced to roll to avoid the bludger.

Harry soured high and blessed the world for this day. The sky was a perfect blue, not a cloud in sight. The air was crisp and that chill contrasted beautifully with the heat of the sun.

Amelia wasn't kidding about Harry being their only hope. James wasn't a good flier nor was the Gryffindor team merely a strong team, they were bloody fantastic.

Harry laughed to himself, the Gryffindors would have buried the Chudley Cannons, though to be fair, so could almost every other Hogwarts team. Harry kept track of Sirius and stole glances at James as searched the field for the snitch.

Harry grinned when he spotted it. The Gryffindor Seeker was beside him and he saw it too.

The announcer called, "The snitch has been spotted, Gryffindor Seeker, Devon Ilke, seventh year, better flier, better broom against rooky Potterpuff."

The Hufflepuff stand seemed to sigh together, their faith in Harry non-existent.

That was until Harry began his descent. Head first, straight down. And like Harry had anticipated, the older broom built up more speed than the newest model. It shook a little but Harry had no problem keeping himself centered. He sped past the Gryffindor Seeker in moments and Sirius's bludger missed him by yards.

"HUFFLEPUFF SEEKER IN THE LEAD!" The announcing proclaimed, sounding as if were proclaiming the sky was falling.

Hufflepuffs stood and cheered.

The first screams started with Lily Evans.

Harry was most literally headed towards the ground at a breakneck pace, the snitch shimmering about a foot off the ground. The Gryffindor Seeker was nowhere close and everyone seemed convinced that Harry was about to go splat.

The rest the game went on, too consumed with their own tasks to keep up with the seconds it had taken Harry to enter his dive.

With a practiced effort Harry pulled the tip of his broom up, he flew straight, his toes brushing the grass as he scooped up the snitch. His momentum carried him across the field to the other side of the pitch before he could stop.

The crowd had gone silent. The announcer appeared to be speechless.

James scored another goal, the Hufflepuff Keeper smiled at him.

James frowned, as everyone on the pitch halted in place. The Hufflepuff team with growing smiles and the Gryffindor team with a growing sense of confusion.

Sirius who had seen the entire thing, bumped in James' shoulder with a playful grin, "Looks like it's in the Potter genes after all."

James frowned, "What-" but then he saw the fluttering wings in Harry's grasp as he held it out up.

The announcer finally got his act together and roared, "HUFFLEPUFF WINS!"

Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin stood and cheered, the rest of the announcer's talk was lost in the din.

Gryffindor stayed seated, utterly bewildered in what to do, they hadn't lost a match in five years. Suddenly, James Potter spawns an identical twin who gets sorted into Hufflepuff for some Merlin forsaken reason, and then this new Potter plunges to his death only to do the impossible and beat the unstoppable.

For Ravenclaw and Slytherin, it was just a blessing to have a chance at winning the cup. Gryffindor was now far enough behind that even if they won against all others -the others houses could still undermine them with points.

Harry Potter was suddenly everyone's hero, no longer James Potter's puffy-shadow, but the anti-James. Amelia kissed his cheek and Ted spent the night bouncing beside Harry's side.

In the stands, Pomona gave Minerva a sweet has pie smile and said simply, "Ha ha."

Minerva's lips thinned, but her eyes sparkled. What was winning worth after all, if there was no challenge?

James was spoiling for a fight the next night and Sirius who had a bottomless reserve of energy was up for any mischief James had in mind.

It was only bad luck that Snape found himself parting ways from Lily when the terrible duo found him.

Harry who had snuck away to find somewhere quiet to read came across the duel. He hesitated before stepping around the corner, wanting to see how James fought when he wasn't under the gaze of a teacher. He was-

James was just as bad at DADA when there were no rules to follow. Sirius was the better duelist, Harry could gage that at glance.

Harry was about to join the fray on Snape's side when Snape let loose a number of spells that had Sirius not pushed James out of the way and brought up a shield Snape might have caused an insane amount of damage for a hallway scuffle.

So, yeah, maybe Snape wasn't exactly the hapless victim his memories had made him out to be.

Harry spotted Snape's bag, he took the liberty to search through it.

He found four books on the Dark Arts and one rather sourly abused potions book. Every inch of free space in the potion book had been written in. Measurements had been rewritten and what look liked… experimental spell invention.

Snape really was a genius.

Harry had yet to write his name in his own potions book. He exchanged his copy -using a quick cleaning charm for books (the one Hermione had taught Harry and Ron after Ron had spilled butterbeer on her copy of Hogwarts, a History), with Snape's.

The charm also acted as a way to keep someone from tracking the original owner of the book. Snape's custom book Harry stored in his own bag along with the four Dark Art books.

He doubted these books would have what he needed, but he needed a place to start. Harry peeked around the corner. Snape was holding his own against James and Sirius, which might have been impressive had James and Sirius not been using lightweight attacks and Snape using deadly force.

Seeing as they hadn't succeeded in killing each other in school, Harry left them to it. No one could tie him to this place at this time, and Snape would never suspect who had stolen his books. The freshly cleaned new printing of the textbook would probably confuse Snape the most. After all, what kind of thief stole a second hand copy of a book only to replace it with a new one?

Betas: Basium1 and Waka Nebbiolo, thank you!

AN: Please leave a review?

Chapter 8: Rule the World

Keynote: This fic does support James and Lily, but Severus Snape will have a better future than cannon regardless of not being matched with his first love.

AN: Snape versus James and Sirius, deadly force versus two powerhouses. Harry compared to this generation; Harry was able to take on fully grown Death Eaters at this age and has been fighting for his life since his first year. It isn't even a matter of complex magic, but fighting with the intent to survive.

Chapter 8 - Rule the World

Severus couldn't find his books. Couldn't find his bloody books!

Avery was going to kill him if he found out that he lost the Dark Art books, the Dark Arts books and his notebook on the Dark Art books.

His potion book was missing too. All his flipping notes, an entire summer's worth of work lost. The shiny new, hardly cracked spine book was taunting him.

Who the hell would steal his books and give him a new copy of his textbook in return?

It didn't make any sense.

A hand touched his shoulder and only the accompanying, "Hey Sev," kept him from hexing his friend.

Sev looked up to meet eyes as green and beautiful as the most princely emeralds in the world. Her hair was caught and spun fire, it surprised him that her hair didn't burn at the touch. And then there was her smile. Lily was the most beautiful person on the planet.

Finally finding his voice, he said, "Hi, Lily."

She sat beside him, "Something wrong? I've never seen you glare at a potions book like that before."

He shoved it up the table and crossed his arms, "It isn't my damned book."

Lily laughed, "Others have you doing their homework again?"

"No, someone stole mine."

She raised a brow, "And you bought a new one?"

"No."

She frowned and pulled the book towards herself, "A gift?"

"No, the thief left it."

"You're telling me someone stole your book, your book that is barely held together at the seams and has more spidery handwriting than a spider web made out of black ink? That book?"

"Yes," Severus grumped.

"And then they gave you a new copy of the same book?"

"Yes."

"Why?" she asked. She was about to open the book and paused, "It isn't cursed, is it?"

"Lily, do you really think I would let you handle a cursed book?"

She smiled at him, "Of course not." She began flipping through the pages. "No name," she noted.

"I know."

Lily pulled out her wand and cast a track it back to owner charm. There wasn't so much as a twinge. Lily frowned and laid her wand on her palm, "Point me." The wand rose spun and settled on Severus. "Huh, either someone cleaned the book, or it is a new book that was always intended to be yours."

"I want my book back."

"At least you can keep up in class."

"Lily, all my corrections were in the other book."

"Like you haven't memorized everything you wrote down."

"That isn't the point, I want my book back."

"You sound like you're five," Lily huffed, and shook a hand through his hair.

Lily was the only person in school who knew that Severus's hair wasn't greasy, sure, it had oil like everyone else's hair did but it wasn't filthy like the Marauders liked to chant around the school. Somewhere far back in his muggle heritage, Severus had an ancestor who had been a trader from East Asia. Which left him looking like every other British man only with silky black hair that on any other British man would mean it was unwashed.

"You wouldn't like your things stolen."

Her smile grew, "No one would dare, I would destroy them."

She wasn't lying, Severus spared with her and could barely keep up, at least not with Defensive magic.

"I'll keep an eye out for your well worn book, Sev. I am sure it will turn up."

Severus sighed. Together they worked on their charms and transfiguration books.

They had been growing apart over the last few years. Mainly because he had been hanging around people like Avery who hated anyone who didn't have magical families. But the end of the last term his father had died from some health issue that Severus was one hundred percent certain was due to Tobias's heavy drinking.

He thought it would be the answer to all their woes, Severus paid not a single tear to his father's death.

But his mother did. In the first month of summer vacation, he had been convinced his mother was going to drown herself in her own tears. For the life of him, he could not understand why she cared so much, but she did. And while Severus thought they would move back to the wizarding world, maybe visit his Prince grandparents, his mother only got worse, secluding herself in Spinner's End.

It seemed that one could neither with Tobias Snape nor live without him. Lily had been Severus's rock over the summer, magic, morals, and house divisions aside, Lily had been there for him.

He would always be in debt to her kindness, always be in need of her friendship. Avery and his lot hadn't reached out once, except to ask for the answers for the summer assignments. Severus wasn't quite ready to wash his hands of them yet, but he was done hiding or apologizing for his friendship with Lily.

So what if she was muggleborn, she was top of their year in charms and not far behind in either potions or DADA either. No, Severus was not ashamed of Lily and if he got teased, so what? There was nothing anyone could do to him that the Marauders hadn't tried first.

James was frowning at Padfoot who was writing in his answers to his Transfiguration homework. He would be done in about ten minutes, James himself was already done with it.

"What's wrong, Prongs?" Moony asked.

James shook his head, "Do you ever feel like Harry does too well here? Like he fits and keeps up with class too easily? I mean, I've never seen him act surprised about anything in the castle or get lost."

Moony shrugged and Padfoot looked up with a grin. "Lost? How on Earth would he get lost? Ted Tonks is always with him unless Harry's hanging out with us."

"I think he knows," Wormtail said suddenly.

The other three looked at him.

"Knows what, Wormtail?" Padfoot asked.

"About Moony."

Padfoot and James exchanged a look.

But Moony shook his head, "He doesn't know. Harry doesn't treat me any different than anyone else. The only person he acts weird around is you, Peter."

Padfoot rolled his eyes, "Well, that's probably because within the first five minutes of meeting him you insulted the way he looks and called him a bastard. You can't be that stupid to think even someone as nice as Harry is just going to forgive that, especially seeing as you're hostile to him whenever he's around."

"He isn't nice," Wormtail emphatically. "He's a liar."

Moony let out an exasperated breath of air, "Harry is a kind person. It really isn't a surprise he was sorted into Hufflepuff. Again, aside from you, he seems to get along with just about everyone."

"He does have secrets, though," James said softly.

Moony looked at James with an almost pitying expression, "I know you met him at the beginning of summer but he was in a coma for all of break. You've only had a month or so to get to know him."

James looked off into the distance, "I never want to go back to St. Mungo's, that place is depressing, and my parents… it tore them up to see him like that."

"It hurt you too, didn't it," Moony said softly.

"It was like looking at my own deathbed. The healers could say he was going to heal just fine all they wanted but he looked… With our eyes closed, I can't tell us apart either."

"Your hair is a little lighter," Padfoot said.

"But honestly how do you think he is related to you?" Moony asked. "He has to be a close relation, there is no way he is your distant cousin."

James shrugged, "I think my parents think that my Grandfather Henry went out drinking one night and just doesn't remember getting it on. Harry is pretty emphatic that his mother is dead though."

"He could be lying," Wormtail said.

"Would you shut up?" Padfoot snarled. "We get it, you don't like Harry. But he isn't going anywhere and he doesn't have a reason to lie about his mum dying."

"Did he describe his muggle family at all?" Moony asked James.

James leaned back on the couch, "Only that he doesn't like them and that they hated magic. I think he's told more to my parents though."

"Yeah, Hedwig is always dropping off letters," Padfoot said, "I love that Mrs. Potter sends us all chocolates whenever Harry gets a letter."

James' lips pressed together, "I don't know how he writes that many letters. My parents are great and all, but I can't think of anyone I would exchange letters with almost four to five times a week."

"I think the Potters are the first family he's ever had," Padfoot said. "And you are all basically strangers. I doubt he will be exchanging that many letters as the year goes on."

"Isn't it weird that Harry looks a bit like both Mr. and Mrs. Potter?" Moony asked. "He looks like you, Prongs, but since you have your Mum's mouth and eye shape isn't it just odd?"

James nodded, "Flitwick did a spell and apparently Harry is in some way related to both my parents. Apparently, his mother isn't just some random muggle, she was somehow connected to the Ross family. But then Flitwick said the spell was working right."

Moony's eyebrows pinched together, "How do you mean?"

"It is supposed to connect family, but a gold chain of light indicates parent and child."

"So?" Padfoot pressed, his homework forgotten. "Was there a gold chain for Harry?"

"Yes."

Moony and Padfoot gasped.

Wormtail smiled, "I knew he was a bastard!"

James smirked, "The gold chain didn't connect Harry to either of my parents."

Moony and Padfoot tilted their heads like dogs, and asked in unison, "What?"

"Flitwick did the spell twice, once for my dad and once for my mum. A gold chain from them to me both times, and for both times there was a gold chain between me and Harry."

"That doesn't make any sense," Moony said, "You're a literally the same age."

"Maybe you were twins and separated by an evil healer who brainwashed both your parents," Padfoot suggested with enthusiasm.

"But then why wouldn't the gold chain connect Harry to Prongs' parents then?" Moony pointed out rationally. "Is there another type of chain for connecting siblings?"

"Yep, silver for siblings, and dimmer silver for distant relatives."

"What in Merlin's name could it mean then?" Moony asked.

"Oh, but I found out that my mum is cousins with McGonagall," James said.

"Too cool," Padfoot said. "Is she going to be at the next Potter Yule dinner?"

James grinned, "I should ask my parents to invite her."

"Do you think she is more relaxed outside of school?" Padfoot wondered.

Moony snorted, "Seems unlikely."

The conversation moved away from the Harry, but Wormtail thought of what the failed spell might mean and how he might invent a way to drive a wedge between the two Potter sixth years.

Harry was sitting alone in a window on one of the upper floors of the building in a hallway with no noisy portraits and rarely had ghosts as visitors. He was trying to decipher, The Power of Darkness and Shadows with limited amounts of success.

There wasn't much that was helpful in these books. In fact, he thought he might need to find a book on how to invent spells and a book on core Dark Arts theory, two subjects that seemed dangerous enough on their own but even by Harry's standards, it sounded stupidly dangerous to combine them together.

Harry sighed and closed the book. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Andromeda sitting on the same ledge as him.

Her lips curled at his reactions.

He flushed, "Hi, I didn't hear you arrive."

"I'm good at slithering around," she said smoothly, her deep voice made the words both more sinister and yet more inviting.

Pretty sure she was joking, Harry rolled his eyes, and said, "Ha ha."

She grinned, "You have a spine, Potter, I like that about you." And before Harry could think up a response she had accioed his book into her hands.

Even Harry's reflects couldn't catch the book in time.

Her eyebrows shot up at the title. There were a few heartbeats of silence before she asked, "Why?"

Not 'what is a Hufflepuff or a Potter doing with a Dark Arts book,' just 'why.'

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Harry said.

"Try me."

"It's a secret."

"I already have one of your secrets now, Harry, unless you want me to tell your cousin or Ted what you're doing in your free time," she threatened, though her tone was light, almost playful.

"You don't know what I am doing and if you tell them I can just say I found it and got curious."

She tapped her fingers on the book, "Ted might buy it but Sirius and James would freak if they found you with this."

Harry debated telling her what he knew. He realized then that as a Black in Slytherin, Andromeda might be a trove of information.

He supposed he really did need to tell someone about Voldemort. But how would he explain knowing about the Dark Lord before anyone else?

And then Harry realized that there was nothing stopping him from telling his own story.

The best lie was always the truth.

"My mother was a muggle, or a muggleborn and she was murdered by a dark wizard," Harry said gravely.

Andromeda's face lost all traces of humour. "How old were you?"

"A little of a year old."

"And you can remember that far back?"

"I remember my mother screaming as well as a man gloating and laughing at her. Greenlight and red eyes followed by more green light and pain."

"And you're trying to figure out who he is from reading old books?" she asked suspiciously.

Harry shook his head, "No, I know who he is, or at least what he calls himself. He was talking in the third person."

"Who was it then?" she asked.

"Lord Voldemort."

Andromeda stared at him, "Lord is a rather controversial title in the wizarding world, Harry. All the Pureblood families were stripped of having a 'Lord' a couple decades ago."

Harry narrowed his eyes at her, "You've heard of him."

"Only rumours, whispers," she said. "But why are you looking through old books then? You think you can take on a new dark lord with the Dark Arts."

Harry shuddered at the idea, "No, but-" he raised his fringe, revealing his lightning bolt scar, "but I want to know what he did to me."

She peered at the scar and leaned forward. Andromeda reached out a hesitant hand and when Harry didn't stop her, she ran a finger across the scar.

Harry held his breath and tried not to think of what it felt for this beautiful woman to touch his scar.

"It's a curse scar," she said, sounding a little awed. "I can't imagine any curse that a baby would survive. Does it have any side effects?"

"A few," Harry said, trying not to move. "Pain mostly."

"Do you remember the incantation?" Andromeda asked, meeting Harry's gaze.

He whispered his answer, "Avada Kedavra."

She whipped back from him, "That isn't possible."

"It's what I remember."

"No," she said firmly, "you don't understand. It is an impossibility, no one, Harry, no one has ever survived the Killing Curse."

"I did."

She shook her head, her hair spilling in waves over her shoulders. She stood up and pressed the book back into Harry's arms. "What you're telling me is impossible."

Harry caught her wrist, "It wasn't just the Killing Curse, he did something else."

"What are you talking about? The Killing Curse doesn't mix with anything else, its purpose is to kill, no trace, no pain, no sound, just one moment alive and the next dead.

"Harry, it is an Unforgivable, you can be sentenced to a lifetime in Azkaban for life if anyone finds out the spell was cast with intent against another human being, magical or otherwise. Whoever this Lord Voldemort is, you need to stay away from him. Let the adults know about it, they'll take care of it."

"Like the adults take care of your family?" Harry asked.

Andromeda tore away from Harry's grasp, he let go admittedly. "You don't know anything about my family."

"I can't trust anyone to take care of the Dark Lord for me, Andromeda, I can't even afford for him to know I know about him. If I go blabbing to adults I will lose my advantage."

"Advantage?" she asked in disbelief. "Perhaps you are as arrogant as James Potter after all."

She made to leave but Harry stepped in front of her, careful not to brush against her or reach for his wand, seeing as she was already reaching for hers. "I know it sounds conceited but I don't think this is the battle that will come down to a duel. I think- that is I suspect-"

"You suspect what?" she snapped.

"I think he was going to use my death as an ingredient in another spell and for some reason it backfired."

"So you want to know what spell he used," she stated, still hedging around him.

"Not exactly," Harry said.

"Then what exactly? Do you want to know why it backfired? If it was the Killing Curse than I don't have a clue where you should start looking, there has never been a survivor. If I had to guess it was something your mother did, but she's dead, so your chances of finding that answer should be considered null and void." She pushed past him.

Harry called to her, "He's after your sister."

She froze and turned eyes on him that were so cold they seemed to burn. Who knew brown could be such a cold color? "Which sister?"

"All three of you, I'd imagine," he said evenly, "But Bellatrix is now outside the protective reach of Dumbledore."

"You think Albus Dumbledore would help a Black?" she asked harshly.

"I know Voldemort is afraid of the old man. And to answer your earlier question, I want to find out how to find and destroy the curse he intended to use me in. I don't think I was the first."

"You don't, do you?" she asked caustically.

"Haven't you noticed the disappearances?" Harry asked.

She lifted her chin, "You have ten seconds to make your point, Potter."

"In the newspapers, the odd deaths, people not showing up to work, mostly muggle borns or powerful people with no heirs."

"Seven, six," she counted down.

"He wants to make himself immortal. Voldemort is trying to rule the world."

Andromeda stilled, "And how does he plan to accomplish that?"

"By destroying it," Harry answered.

AN: Thoughts, please? Thank you to all the reviewers you brighten my day more than you will ever know.

Chapter 9: A Mother's Intuition

Chapter 9 - A Mother's Intuition

What is it with DADA professors? Harry asked himself as Professor Bartley called him to the front of the class for a dueling demonstration.

"Who can tell me what the Imperious Curse is?"

Harry gave the man such a look, "You have to be joking."

"It was a simple question," the professor said blithely, "Yes, Mis-"

"It's illegal, you can't use it on me," he interrupted.

"Who said I was going to use it on you, Mr. Potter?"

Harry glared at him, and some of the other students giggled.

Professor Bartley broke first, saying, "I have Dumbledore's permission to demonstrate the Imperius curse as it is the only one out of the three Unforgivables that can be resisted, if you have the will to do so."

The giggling in the room ceased, clearly, no one had actually thought a professor would hurt them. They so weren't from Harry's generation.

Ted stood up, "I'll volunteer, if Harry doesn't want to then I can."

Harry smiled at his friend, but shook his head, "Its okay, Ted. I can man-"

"Sit down, Mr. Tonks. Twenty points from Hufflepuff for speaking out of turn."

The three Hufflepuffs frowned at the professor, but Ted did as asked. The rest of the students watched on silently. Harry was not surprised that James and Sirius said nothing, but he was still a bit hurt that they didn't raise any form of protest.

"Now, Miss Goldstein, can you answer my question."

"The Imperious Curse puts people under your will, and you can make them do anything, anything at all," she answered.

"Yes, twenty points to Ravenclaw. As I said before, the curse can be resisted. Mr. Potter is going to show us how an imperious curse can do doing a duel-"

Harry tuned him out for a moment, thinking how it odd that this person sounded more like Crouch than Moody, which is when he remembered that Crouch was inner a first year. This spell-happy bugger had taught them both, one more than the other, but he had clearly left an impression on Crouch. But was this guy really showing this demonstration to the first years?

He was really beginning to hate DADA as a class if not a subject.

"Are you ready, Potter?" he asked with as much disdain as Professor Snape had ever used on him.

"So you want me to attack you while you use the Imperius on me?"

He sneered, "I would like you to try."

Harry sighed, and raised his wand. This wasn't going to help him stay unnoticed, in fact, this might cause as many rumours as being the Boy Who Lived or James' twin had.

The Professor raised his wand and it was all Harry could do to keep from trying to run, because when someone intends to hit you with an Unforgivable that's what you do, run.

A memory of a graveyard swept through his mind.

"Imperio."

Point your wand at your own head and-

Harry shoved the voice out of his thoughts, like shrugging off reading the ingredients on a can of soda, and bellowed, "Stupify!"

Professor Bartley dropped like a plank.

Most of the students were slack jawed at this point.

Shite, Harry cursed in his head. What do I do now? He waited a minute for someone to come to the professor's aid. They just stared at him.

He sighed and said, "Rennervate," followed immediately by, "Protago!"

Light exploded against his shield as Bartley rose from the ground slinging spells. None of them got through Harry's shield charm. After a minute of this Harry, stepped to the side and let his shield as he cast, "Expelliarmus!"

The professor's wand went flying and Harry caught it with his free hand. Again, the room was rendered silent.

James was stunned. Harry wasn't just good at DADA, he was the best he had ever seen. He had just beat the professor, not once, but twice, in less than five minutes. He had managed to stupify and disarm the seasoned Auror.

Did the Imperious even slow him for a moment?

James looked around, Sirius' eyes were fixed on Harry as if he were studying his every breath, but Moony met his gaze. His face showed clearly that he was not just shocked but a bit fearful.

James glanced at the rest of the room. the Slytherins were looking at Harry much the same way Sirius was and the rest of them looked as shocked as James felt.

Ted Tonks began clapping. Lily stood up and clapped, the rest of the class followed their lead. James felt himself clapping too, he couldn't not clap, not for his own cousin. Wormtail didn't clap, but he had always been a bit thick in the head.

"Give me back my wand, Potter," the professor snarled.

Harry tossed it back to him, looking ready to throw up another shield charm.

"Detention for taking a professors wand," he said as the room sat back down.

"That isn't fair!" Ted and Lily protested in unison.

James felt something twist in his gut that Lily was defending his look alike. Though he supposed it was better than supporting Snivellus.

Harry only nodded and went for the exit, the professor didn't stop him, and the other two Hufflepuffs followed him out.

Loyal to the end. James wondered if he would ever feel that loyal to Harry. Harry who was turning into more of a mystery by the day.

No muggle raised, self taught wizard knew how to fight like.

Perhaps Wormtail was right not to like him.

"What's with the new Potter?" Narcissa asked at the dinner that night. The castle was abuzz with rumours that Harry Potter had beaten an Auror and was impervious to the Imperius.

Kingsley looked at Andromeda who looked at Severus.

Severus sighed, "Potterpuff had him beat from the first spell. In fact, it looked like if he had been a real duel Bartley would have never would have gotten the first curse off, he looked ready to bolt."

Avery picked up the narrative, "He's been in fights before. And the bastard isn't like the legitimate Potter, he doesn't know tricks. He's seen real battle."

"He even called out the professor before it started," Severus noted, "Like he knew the moment he was called down and the Imperius was brought up that the professor meant to use it on him. Who would assume a professor would use one of the Unforgivables on a student?"

"Who is he really?" Narcissa asked, "I heard a rumour that his mother was killed by a dark lord."

"What dark lord?" a third year asked.

Someone shushed him.

"He is more than he appears," Kingsley spoke up, his rumbling voice so rarely heard hushed the gossip.

"Has anyone asked him about his odd scar?" Narcissa asked, "The one on his forehead."

A few people shook their heads.

Andromeda looked over her shoulder at her two Hufflepuff boys.

Harry Potter, raven haired, blue-eyed mystery that he was had too many secrets. But his candour from a week ago when she had found him studying Dark Art books struck her.

A boy who was in the purest house, from the lightest pureblood family, raised by muggles, was studying Dark Art books because he said his mother had been murdered by a madman. A madman who had used a Killing Curse on a baby, a baby who had survived.

"We need to push," Andromeda said suddenly, looking around at her housemates. "He's into something, something that I think we are all going to be a part of sooner rather than later."

"Like what? What could a Potter possibly be into that would be of any consequence," Severus asked.

Andromeda looked the boy straight into his onyx eyes, "There's a rising dark lord and he's after us."

"After us?" Regulus echoed.

She leaned forward and had to fight back a smile as everyone else leaned forward as well, "The muggle disappearances, and some of the muggleborns. This new Dark Lord is looking to use us as cannon fodder."

"And what if he is fighting for us?" Avery interjected.

Her returning smile was more of a snarl, "I am no one's slave."

"Who says he's going to enslave us?" he shot back.

Kingsley spoke, and again everyone hushed to listen, "Because that's what dark lords do, because that is the nature of the Dark Arts. Power comes at a price, either we work for it as individuals or we must pay with our freedoms to follow someone else. I am with Black, I will be no one's slave."

A new train of rumour swept the Slytherin table that had nothing to do with Harry Potter and everything to do with retaining their own wills. It was true that purebloods were losing standing and power, but none of them wanted to trade prestige for freedom. Not if it was phrased like that.

Avery, Crabbe, Goyle, Lestrange, and Rosier exchanged looks. They would be rolling to see who would have to tell the Dark Lord that his secret campaign was no longer secret, and its reception wasn't a warm one.

Albus Dumbledore watched the students eating their dinner wondering what prank James had pulled this time to throw them into a tissy. The Slytherin and Hufflepuff tables were particularly active, the Slytherins whispering as if they were trying to mimic snakes and the Hufflepuffs boisterous as a tavern on a Friday night.

He had been away at the ministry to discuss a few worrying disappearances of lesser ministry workers.

The staff table seemed to be just as talkative as the students, Pomona, in particular, looked glowing.

"Where's Scott?" Albus asked, noting their DADA professor was missing, it was far too early in the year for yet another replacement.

Pomona smiled brightly and Filius chuckled.

"What have I missed?"

Minerva's lips curled up, "Mr. Potter."

"Ah, and what antics have come to pass then?"

"Don't look at me," his second said, "It was not my Potter this time. It was Pomona's Potter."

Albus looked around to Hufflepuff Head of House who looked flushed with the attention, but a glint of pride shown in her eyes.

"Is our newest Potter as much of a trickster than?"

She shook her head, "He overcame our 'master' Auror in a duel."

Albus' eyebrows shot up, "Did he? I assume the rumours have grown. Do you know what truly happened?"

"He resisted the Imperius curse and stupefied Scott. Once he revived him, Harry shielded against all of his attacks before disarming him. He made quite the impression."

Albus frowned, "Imperius Curse?"

Minerva spoke up again, "Yes, the Imperius demonstration. The one you gave him permissio-"

But she caught his gaze and the slight shake of his head, he had done no such thing. It seemed he would be looking into replacing the DADA position, again. He sighed, it was quite troublesome to do every year, much less twice a year. Perhaps he would teach a few classes until they could find a substitute.

He would not report Scott to the authorities if he went quietly, or if one of the parents decided to press charges. He thought an Auror would have known better. Young Alistor would beside himself, or perhaps he might praise his ex-teacher's initiative, it was always hard to tell with him.

"He might be our next Newt Scamander," Horace said, "Bright boy like that with a head for trouble."

Albus wondered how a self taught boy could be an expert in dueling. How fast was he able to shake off the Imperius? What does that say about him?

"Oh, I do hope so!" Silvanus enthused. "He's been pretty good in my class, but next week we start with Hagrid's hippogryphs. We will see how he fares."

"Hi, Harry!" Lily greeted, finding him alone behind a tree in the courtyard.

He looked up with a smile, "Hi, Lily. How are you?"

She sat down beside him, "I'm well, how are you and what in Merlin's name are you reading? The book is giant."

His smile grew, and she noted that he was handsome which reminded her of James. She shook herself. James was a snot, she wasn't going to think about him being handsome, even if his look alike reminded her.

"The extended version of Fantastic Beasts with some of his field notes. Kettleburn gave me a copy, said I should get to know other great Hufflepuffs."

"Is it any good?"

"His note taking is a bit erratic, but yeah, it really is. I hate that I missed my entire summer but his chapter on kelpies is great. The way he writes about magical creatures… it makes it hard to dislike them."

"The kelpies tried to drown and eat you. You could have died."

He shrugged, as if near death experiences weren't anything to be hung up on.

"How's your brother, um cousin, taking your dueling skills? You are the talk of the castle."

He shrugged again but this time he did look bothered, "He hasn't talked to me since Hufflepuff won that last Quidditch match."

"You mean when you won it."

He frowned, "It's a team sport."

"Yeah but you-"

"No, it's a team sport. I'm a good Seeker in all but the Snitch isn't always that easy to find and-"

"Are you sure you're a Potter," she cut him off, "You are too humble."

He shut his book, "Enough about me, what about you, Lily. What are you like?"

She smiled, and settled herself more comfortably against the tree. She really liked Harry, there was something about him, like a kinship. Sometimes Severus made her uncomfortable because despite liking him -he was intelligent and was exceedingly kind to her, he also made her feel pressured for not liking him more. She knew he had a crush on her, but she just didn't, couldn't bring herself to feel the same way.

Harry on the other hand, unlike James or Sev, never, ever flirted with her. And she didn't want him to. She wanted more friends, she had so few.

"Well," she said, "I'm skilled in Charms, Potions, and Arithmancy. I like flowers, because duh, but I don't like Herbology. Flowers should not eat people or scream at you when you try giving them a new home. I like going to the movies and reading non-school related books."

"Oh, and what kind of books are those?"

She grinned, "The romantic kind, ones that are just for fun, with heroic tragedies and happy endings."

He smiled back, "I like happy endings too. What about your family? You're muggleborn too, right?"

"I live with my parents, who are simply the best people ever. And my older sister." She couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice at the end.

He raised a brow.

She sighed, "I love her, truly, but ever since I went to Hogwarts, Tuni-"

"Tuni?" he asked, mirth shimmering in his eyes.

"Er, Petunia, flower names, her and I. She hates me."

"She can't hate you," Harry said kindly. "No one who knows you could hate you, Lily. I bet she's just jealous."

"You don't know her. The things she says. She's… she's awful. And she makes me feel awful that we can't be close. She thinks I'm a freak."

He put an arm around her shoulder, "My foster family said the same about me. But some things aren't our fault. Some things have nothing to do with us and everything to do with their issues."

Lily relaxed against his side, feeling as if she were the one, not James, to have found a long-lost brother.

"Mind if I stay and read with you?" she asked, it was one of those rare days in autumn where the sun decided to make a lasting appearance. It was not a day to be spent indoors. In two layers of cloaks, one couldn't feel the cold.

"One of your romantic fun books?"

"Hey, there are magical creatures in them too."

"Really? Like what, giant spiders?"

"Ew. No. Like werewolves, but not like this world's werewolves. Romantic werewolves."

"You will have to tell me how it ends," he said taking his arm back to flip the open his oversized book. He stayed close though, so that their sides stayed pressed together. It was comfy and solidly platonic.

How odd to feel so close to someone I am just getting to know? I feel affection for him, I feel proud of him which is weird, isn't it?

It was weird, to feel so much for someone she knew so little about. To feel a connection and yet feel none of the butterflies she felt when she was just reading about characters in her books sharing a glance. How she felt for Harry was how she felt about her parents and sister. Which was weird.

Harry Potter wasn't Lily's family, so why did she wish so badly that he was?

James froze as he was passing the courtyard. He stared at the couple reading books under the tree and it was like someone had stabbed him through the heart.

All these years worrying about Snape and there was his freaking doppelganger sitting shoulder to shoulder with the love of his life.

"James," Sirius said a bit forcefully. They were supposed to meet Moony and Wormtail by the lake.

He didn't really care.

"James," Sirius said again, a bit softer, taking him by the arm. "Let it go."

"Let it go?" he asked turning on his best friend, "let it go? Look at them."

"I see two people reading books together."

"Together."

"They aren't looking at each other, or holding hands," he said, "Don't treat it like there is something more going on. I've seen the way he looks at her, and the way you look at her. He doesn't love her. Not like that. If anything, he acts like a brother to her."

"You're taking his side?" James snarled low, they were both being careful to keep their voices down.

"Yeah, I am. Because you know what, Potter? Harry has done more in the last month or so to try to get to know you than you have given him the time of day."

"You like him more than me."

"No, I don't. Harry is a freaking enigma, he just happens to be a likable enigma. But you and I? James, you dolt, you are the best friend I have. So as your friend, I'm telling you, you will be happier if you don't make an enemy out of family who has done nothing but be kind to you."

"Kind. Winning the last match, stealing my girl, how is that kind?"

"She isn't yours. And for the record, I think in the last week he's given my cousins more enormous looks than Lily Evans. And winning the match isn't something you should fault him for. All he proved was that he was as competitive as you are."

"He likes your cousins?" James asked, distracted.

Sirius slung an arm around his friend's shoulders, "Many have been entranced by the Black Sisters in the past, but perhaps we should begin discussion on how to keep my cousins from slowly murdering your cousin if he does something foolish."

James shook his head, "I am so glad Bellatrix graduated." As he let himself be led away.

"Aren't we all, aren't we all."

AN: I reread this and completely forgot where I was going other than Fantastic Beasts characters are making their way in. I am not going to wait for all five movies to be out so this fic will become extremely AU. As for the rest, I find the past chapters skimpy so I have a lot of beefing up to do before my plot bunnies run out.

All content and character related thoughts and wants would be most welcome to get my muse going. Much love to the reviewers!

Chapter 10: The Memo

Chapter 10 - The Memo

Harry had never been so excited for a class. He hadn't seen Hagrid much, mostly because he could figure out a way to pretend not to know him. Out of anyone in the past, he knew Hagrid best, and lying to him felt… wrong.

But when Hagrid brought his hippogryphs out of the woods, Harry was the first to step forward.

No one really liked Hagrid. It wasn't that he was a bad person, far from it, but he was a bit of bubbling idiot who liked dangerous things.

James might have liked dangerous things too, but he wasn't an idiot. At least he wasn't idiot enough to make friends with an Acromantula.

Harry apparently hadn't gotten the memo, because he approached the half giant and his flock of flying killing machines like he was about to pet a baby unicorn. Not even Ted followed him.

Hagrid was smiling until Harry approached one of the smaller grey ones, who looked young and green, and what should have been no one's first choice.

"Er, that one's Buckbeak, he's a bit unt-" Hagrid cut himself off as Harry bowed gracefully and deeply to the winged bird faced horse. James had no desire to show the back of his neck to such a creature.

The entire class held their breath, and hippogryph turned its head to look at Harry with an eye that dilated, bringing its prey into sharp focus.

"Er, 'Arry, maybe you should back away from Beaky slow-"

But then the bird-horse bowed as deeply as Harry had.

Hagrid laughed, and Kettleburn smiled as if he had just won a pot of gold.

"You can ride him if you like, Arry."

James' stupid, death-defying cousin nodded, and the half-giant picked him up like a doll and placed him on 'Beaky's' back.

The class watched horrified as the bird took off at a run and almost tumbled to the Earth on the lift-off. It turned and looked as if it was struggling to stay aloft, it nearly crashed into the treeline before shooting up high into the sky.

"Is he going to be alright?" Lily asked Hagrid.

The big man nodded, "Course, that's just the first time Buckbeak's taken a rider. Adjusting to the extra weight is all."

"He's going die," one of the Slytherins whispered, "he's not going to make it until Christmas."

"Christmas," another sniggered, "Potterpuff isn't going to make it to Halloween."

James gave Sirius a worried look.

Sirius didn't look like he had anything comforting to say.

Remus chimed in, "At the rate he's going, it would be rather remarkable if he made it to Halloween."

"Moony," Sirius protested and gave James a nervous look.

But James didn't know what to think. The four of them did stupid stuff all the time. Bloody hell, they spent every full moon with a werewolf. But none of them had ever gotten hurt, not like Harry, Harry who had spent two months in St. Mungo's after a freak kelpie attack.

Maybe no one had found him to accept him at Hogwarts because even the magical world knew he was too much trouble. James couldn't help worrying about how this would all make his parents.

Harry couldn't remember why he had ever disliked this. This was amazing, they trailed over the lake and the feeling connection he felt with the hippogryph was exhilarating. His broom was an extension of him, but with Buckbeak it was all about trust. As if they were dance partners and the wind was their music.

Granted, Buckbeak wasn't as smooth as he remembered, but given he was twenty years younger that wasn't all that surprising.

Harry leaned forward and asked, "Is this your first time flying with a person?"

Buckbeak turned his head slightly and screeched what sounded like an affirmative to Harry, and what felt like an affirmative when he dipped toward the surface of the lake.

He laughed and told the hippogryph, "Have fun! I don't mind being your test rider and it isn't a big deal if I fall in the lake." He was shouting into the wind, and he couldn't have been sure how much of what he said that hippogryph understood. However, the next thing he knew they soaring upwards then plummeting into dives, and spirals and sharp turns.

It. Was. Thrilling.

At one point Harry opened his arms to embrace the wind, at the same moment, Buckbeak tried a roll.

Harry ended up in the lake, more than once. But it was worth it, and he wouldn't have missed Buckbeak's concerned squawks nor watching him trying to fish him out of the lake for the world.

Sirius kept watching the skies, waiting for Harry to return. James might not have been overly concerned, but he -unlike James, actually liked the doppelganger.

Which, all things considered, was kind of sad, but James didn't know people the way he did. Yes, the boy had secrets, but so did everyone. Secrets didn't necessarily mean untrustworthy, in fact, sometimes it meant the very opposite. But Harry Potter was a good person.

And he did not deserve to die from falling off an untried hippogryph.

A black-feathered hippogryph nudged his shoulder, he looked back at the noble creature he had foolishly been ignoring. Thankfully, she didn't look offended, just began using his chest as a rubbing post for her head.

He rubbed her neck as she did this, her feathers were soft and warm.

And because of this distraction, he missed Harry's crash landing. Both he and the hippogryph were soaked as if they had taken a dunk or two into the lake. Harry's lips were blue from the cold but he was smiling. Ted was the one to using a drying and warming spell on both of them. He bubbled with questions and Harry enthused right back as if he had just had one of the best experience of his life.

Sirius turned to James, "See, he's stronger than you think."

Hazel eyes narrowed on him, "Sure."

Sirius suppressed a sigh, he needed to find a way to get the two Potter boys on equal footing.

Little did he know that Wormtail was plotting the exact opposite.

Sometimes even Harry wasn't certain if he was looking for trouble or if trouble found him.

He received a letter from an 'anonymous' source that told him to meet James at the Whomping Willow that night after curfew.

It was the night of the full moon, and the Mr. 'Anonymous' Rat, hadn't even bothered to disguise his handwriting.

On one hand, Harry was pleased that he had such solid evidence to show James, Sirius, and Remus how awful Wormtail was, on the other, Harry was disappointed at what had to be the worst attempt to kill him so far.

Harry had lived through a lot of assassinations at the ripe age of sixteen, multiple attempts by Wormtail in fact, but this, this was just lazy.

So that begged the question of why was Harry out after curfew, on his own, headed to the Whomping Willow?

Because on his way back from a late night at the library he had caught a glimpse of dark robes and a sweep of greasy hair slipping around a corner in the opposite direction of the dungeons.

Harry had no intentions of bullying his sour ex-potions professor, but Snape had been a Death Eater in this time, and suspicion of Severus Snape does not die easy.

He cursed when he saw the secret entrance to the Whomping Willow slide shut. Still cursing, he followed as quietly as he was able.

He made it to the entrance, and found he was correct in suspecting Severus Snape. Snape who had a camera and was peaking around the entrance to the cave. Harry was almost to him when the moron stepped out into striking distance of the tree.

"No!" Harry hissed as he ran at him, tackling the Slytherin to the ground.

"Hey!" Snape exclaimed. "Get off m-!"

His words were cut off as branch swept over their heads.

Harry shoved him over and rolled in the opposite direction as branch slammed into where they had been.

"Go! You idiot!" Harry yelled as Snape looked up at the tree wide-eyed.

Growling, Harry again tackled him as he got to his feet, again saving them both from decapitation by blunt foliage force.

A low howl filled the night, and he felt the blood in his veins turn to ice, "Go, go, go!"

Severus stumbled to his feet, and it was all Harry could do to not just let Moony have him. Glancing over his shoulder he found that they might both be Moony-food soon. He ripped the camera Severus was clutching to himself and chucked the device at the werewolf.

"Hey, that's my camera!"

It hit Moony square on the nose, making him yelp and hold both paws to his nose. It was cute for all of five seconds, after which the werewolf looked up with murder in its gaze, the camera lay in shattered pieces where the Willow had taken offense to it. The werewolf stalked them as Harry shoved and dragged Snape to safety. The only thing that gave them time to escape was that Moony took a path that avoided the Whomping Willow's reach.

They had just made it back to the entrance when Moony launched at them both. A stag plowed into his side like a wrecking ball. And Harry transfigured a rock wall to block off the cave entrance. In six year they had finally begun to learn useful things in transfiguration that didn't involve turning tortoises into teapots.

Harry rolled over on his back, still on the floor where he had thrown himself into safety. His breathing was heavy and all he could think was that 'Death by Moony' should never be laughed at. It didn't feel like such a lazy attempt now. Was that three times now?

"You owe me a camera, Potter."

Harry turned to look at Snape who was on his knees, trying to use the wall to get up on his shaking legs.

"Wanker," Harry breathed, "You Bloody Wanker! I just saved your sorry arse!" He got to his feet, his temper giving him strength. "What in Merlin's name did you think you were doing?"

Snape stood, spine straight, limbs still trembling. "Remus Lupin," he said gravely, "is a werewolf."

Harry snorted, "That doesn't answer my question. What did you think you were going to do? Take his picture? Did you think a werewolf would hold a pose for you? And would that be before or after he tried to rip your face off?"

"The school needs to know- he's dangerous, he's-"

"If that was Lupin, then you have to have realized that he has been a werewolf for years and that the teachers know about it. You can't keep something like that hidden from the Headmaster. I think that freaking homicidal willow was warning enough for most sane people to stay the bloody hell away!"

"You don't know me. You don't understand, he's-"

Harry cut him off, years of listening to Snape lecturing him, but now? Now Snape had no authority. "Oh, I know who you are, Severus Snape, and I think I understand more than you do. You're some poor kid, with a shite life, some shite family, and arsehole bullies who look down their noses at you. So you spend all your time trying to get back at them and make them feel as badly as you do. And every single time, you fail. Well, guess what Snape? That's life. People are shitty and nothing is fair. Get over it."

Snape bared his teeth at him, "You spoiled rich brat, what do you kn-"

Harry punched him, hard.

It was a very satisfying moment. "I grew up with nothing, you arse. The Potters and Sirius are the first family I've ever had. Stay the hell away from them."

"They won't leave me alone," he said, holding a hand to his swelling face

"They will if they think Pettigrew set us up. "

"What?" Snape asked, confused.

"Wormtail, you know the rat that follows them around like a leech. If they think one of their friends set us up to get snacked on then they won't go near you for fear you might go to Dumbledore."

"I will go to Dumbledore. He needs to know-"

"He already knows, you dolt. It's Dumbledore. But what he won't know is that we were here tonight, which gives us blackmail material. But if you start blabbing, I guarantee that Dumbledore will have more sympathies for the discriminated werewolf than the half-blood who's been flirting with the Dark Arts."

Snape gave him a suspicious look from his one onyx eye that wasn't changing colors, "Why would you do that for me?"

He shook his head, "Because Snape, not everything is about you. Now, I'm going back to my dorm. I suggest you do the same."

Harry left Snape behind with his black eye and his thoughts on how to repay his buddy for the camera he had lost.

James and Sirius were panicking as the sun rose and Remus woke up from his post-shift nap.

"Hurry up," James urged, "get dressed, we need to get back, we need to get back now!"

Remus looked at him warily, and groaned as he pulled on his trousers, "What? Why? It's not even five yet. No one's ever up this early."

James winced. An image of Snivellus and Harry looking up at Moony with fear ran through his mind.

"What?" Remus asked, shaking of the exhaustion in exchange for fear. He stood pulling on his robe, still barefoot. "Prongs, what happened?"

Sirius answered, the remorse clear in voice, "Someone saw you last night."

Remus paled, and he would have fallen James hadn't caught him around the shoulder. "Who?" he asked numbly, though it didn't look like he really cared about the answer.

"Harry," Wormtail answered.

Remus shut his eyes, as if he were overcoming some deep pain, he leaned into James for support, "They're going to expel me. They're going to expel me."

"We don't know anything yet," Sirius said, "Harry would have had no way to connect us to a werewolf."

"But Snape would have," James said softly.

Remus shook his head and murmured, "It's over, it's all over."

"Hurry, Remus," Sirius said, "We might still have time to fix this... somehow."

They made their way back to the dorm. The sixth year boys had two rooms because their year was such a large group, the Marauders had taken the smaller room so that they could stay together. It was designed for a student teacher so it was a bit tight for the four of them. But they had opted to stay together even if there was barely walking space between their beds.

When they arrived, a figure was sitting at the window seat to greet the morning sun with one of Sirius' books on Quidditch.

"How did you get in here?" James demanded.

"Harry, what did you tell Snape?" Sirius asked with far less hostility.

Harry closed the book and it was like watching a mirror image walk toward him, James' had no idea what was the right thing to say. What could solve this or make Harry understand that Remus was, well he was dangerous but they had it covered. Snivellus definitely went to Dumbledore and…

"Breathe, Remus, nobody got hurt and nobody is out to expel you. Though you all might want to leave Snape alone from now on. I think he got the message."

"The message?" James asked, "Harry this isn't some joke-"

Remus interrupted him, "Please, Harry, I can tell you're angry. I never meant to put anyone in danger, and-"

Harry held up his hand, "Remus, I don't care that you are a werewolf. I know it isn't your fault. But I am pissed that he-" pointed at Wormtail, "set Snape and I up to get eaten or changed."

"What are you talking about? Wormtail wouldn't do that," James defended, looking towards his small friend for confirmation. But what he saw was a red-faced boy sweating profusely and staring at Harry as if he were his worst nightmare.

"I wouldn't hurt anyone," he squeaked, his voice high pitched with anxiety.

Remus straightened, "No, no. Peter wouldn't, Peter-"

"So this isn't his handwriting then?" Harry asked, holding up a note that Sirius took from him.

The look he gave James and Remus was… heartbroken. He turned to Peter, "Why? Peter, why would you do this?"

"Snape isn't going to say anything, and if he does he will go to Dumbledore first which will likely result in Wormy being expelled, not you, Remus. Just try not to go out of your way to provoke Slytherins."

"Why would you do this to me?" Remus asked Peter. "Why would you do this to other students? You know the risks, how could you even think of it?"

"I didn't write a letter to Snape just Harry," he sniffled angrily.

"Lier," Harry said.

"You're evil!" Peter screamed at him. "Ever since you got here! Things have changed, everything is changing, and it is your fault!"

"You betrayed us!" James bellowed, stepping in front of his cousin. "You put us all in danger, and you could have gotten two people killed or infected! You're the evil one."

Peter raised his wand at James, and it was Harry who pulled James back and disarmed the rat. It was Harry who took Wormtail by the collar with both his hands and slammed him against the wall, "Listen to me, you pipsqueak. If you ever try to kill or harm the people I love or me, I will make you disappear. And I promise you, nobody will find your body, not ever, not even a finger."

Releasing him, Wormtail crumbled into a pathetic ball on the ground. Harry patted Remus on the shoulder, "Your secret is still secret. Have a good day, Marauders." And he left them to sort out their own mess.

Sirius grabbed Peter by the back of his robes and shoved him out into the hall. "Stay out," he said. He slammed the door and locked it, knowing that there were no more words that needed to be said. He had betrayed them, tried to kill James' cousin, and it was over. Had it just been Snape, Snape who had been trying to weasel out their secret for years, and had meant them harm, maybe they could have forgiven him, eventually. But Harry?

Harry who hadn't blinked at Remus being a werewolf, and had only raised a hand against Peter after he had pointed a wand at James?

Peter Pettigrew was done, and if he ever tried anything again, it would be Sirius, James, and Remus who destroyed him, not the Hufflepuff.

Remus collapsed back on his bed, holding his hands to his face. Sirius and James laid down on either side of him, and together they pretended that Remus wasn't sobbing, wasn't crying for them all.

AN: Reviews, thoughts, theories, desires, hopes, dreams? Please? Pretty please?

Chapter 11: Family Relations

KEYNOTE: This chapter takes place in two days. Next chapter will pick up where this chapter left off.

Dear French Readers,

I am looking for somewhere to affordably buy the Harry Potter books in French without the kid's covers - as an artist, I just can't bring myself to buy those images. Do you know of any online sources that might sell French books, used or otherwise? The United States options are crappy, Barnes and Noble sold out and Amazon is overpriced. Merci! Bonne Année!

Warmly,

Jacob

Chapter 11 - Family Relations

Getting up for classes was awful. Remus looked exhausted while James and Sirius didn't look much better.

Charms was an exercise fortitude to get through. They, of course, had no trouble with the charms or theory, but the moment Peter sat on the other side of the room the rumours started.

James could hardly look in Peter's direction. How could they have been so wrong about him? What else could they be wrong about?

When the lunch bell rang they were their trio was the first out the door despite the state of tiredness.

This didn't, however, keep Lily from catching up to them.

"Hey, James!" she shouted.

For once in his life, he didn't slow, he didn't even look around, Sirius did to catch her expression.

"Hey!" She grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop. Sirius and Remus to either side of him stopped as well.

"What is it, Lils?" James asked, his words sounding as sluggish as he felt.

"What did you do to Severus?"

A flash of anger swelled past the exhaustion and the depression. Severus, Severus. Sev.

He was sicking that name from her lips. He yanked his arm free of her, "I didn't do anything to him." Except help save his miserable life.

And in another astonishing turn of events, he turned his back on her walked as fast he was able toward the Great Hall, Sirius and Remus following his lead wordlessly.

But this was Lily Evans, and she didn't give up that easy, not for a moment.

"You punched him, you big bully!"

James didn't look around when he said, "What's sad, Lils, is that you think he's such an angel, that I'm the only one who could possibly want to punch Snivellus in his sniveling face. I promise you, I'm not, and that he's never been an angel."

"You're just jealous!" she baited him.

He didn't bite, just kept walking.

"Let it go, Lily Flower," Sirius told her, "not today, okay?"

"But he-"

"He didn't," Remus said tiredly. "We didn't pick a fight with Snape. Whoever hit him wasn't one of us."

They made it to the Great Hall and it took them all a moment to find Snape at his table, whose face was multi-colored bruise, his eye so black and blue as to be swelled shut.

It was a beautiful sight.

Slughorn was interrogating him, probably trying to get the name of the bloody genius who thought to go mugglestyle on a Slytherin. Whoever it was, Snape didn't give them up and as he stood -presumably being sent to see Poppy, James finally put two and two together.

Apparently, so had Sirius, "Hey, Prongs, you don't think it was… I mean he wouldn't have…"

Remus picked up the thread, "It looked like he wanted to hit Wormtail last night."

"Who are you talking about?" Lily asked, not leaving them alone. Which was annoying because it was the first time James had ever wished she would have.

When they didn't answer, she went so far as to sit next to him at the table.

That had never happened before, at least not by her initiative.

"Who hurt Severus?" she demanded.

The three Maureaders exchanged glances. Even if they did tell her, she wouldn't believe it.

"Why isn't Peter sitting with you the rest of you?" she asked abruptly.

"Because he's a worm and we are no longer friends with him," Sirius answered.

There was a brief hush around them, followed by a frenzy of whispers.

Remus sighed, "What is wrong with rumour mill in this school?"

Sirius fluffed his hair, "With students as gorgeous as we are how could the rumour mill be anything less than rapt with our every step?"

Lily rolled her eyes.

"Did you hear?" One of the second years asked.

"Hear what?" Narcissa snapped. Her patience thinning, the Great Hall was far too nosy today.

"The Marauders broke up!"

Her eyes narrowed at the little girl, "Which ones?"

"The pudgy one."

"How does he even matter?" Reggie asked. "Those three are probably more dangerous without that vermin slowing them down."

Narcissa gave him a sharp look, "Didn't know you felt that strongly about your brother's friends."

"My brother's friends suck, but at least I know they weren't hurt him, not directly. But Pettigrew? There's something wrong with him."

Narcissa grabbed her cousin's hand under the table and give it a little squeeze, only she and her sisters knew how much Reggie missed his older brother. Only the Black Sisters really understood that one of the reasons Sirius acted out so much was to draw their mother's rages onto himself and away from his little brother.

As much as they all despised Gryffindor House, there was no question of why Sirius had rebelled.

The bell for the end of lunch rang and Narcissa hung back to speak with Andromeda motioning for Reggie to go on without her. Kingsley who was at Andromeda's side got the same message.

Her sister raised dark brows at her, as from her having more wave and being a deep brown rather than straight and raven black, looked like twins. How she had ended up with girly blonde hair and blue-grey eyes was anyone's guess, allow Reggie and Sirius had the same blue-grey color too.

"A certain puff has been looking at you," Narcissa said under her breath just loud enough for her sister to hear.

The corner of Andromeda's lips turned down, "How many times do I have to tell you, Ted and I are just friends."

"I don't mean the mudblood, I mean the bastard."

"Don't call him that," Andromeda snapped.

"Which one?"

Her sister's glare would have put most people in their place, but Narcissa wasn't most people.

"Potter's been looking at you too."

"Since when did looking become a crime. He hasn't been ogling me."

"No, he's been stealing glances, which no one but I and perhaps Siri has noticed."

"You two were always too perceptive for your own good."

"So there is something going on."

"No."

Narcissa pulled her sister into one of the little used classrooms, it was too small to be much more than storage space.

Andromeda pulled back, "We'll be late for class."

"Harry Potter is powerful enough to make up for being a bastard and-or a half blood."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Seduce him."

Andromeda glared at her, "You have thirty seconds to explain yourself before I curse you for the rest of term."

"You won't hurt me."

The look she received from cold brown eyes brought up even Narcissa's heart rate. "Not permanently. You wouldn't permanently hurt me. And that's my point."

"What point?"

"Bella would."

Andromeda shook her head, her hair spilling over her shoulders, "Cissa," she sighed. "Our sister isn't completely stable, that doesn't make her evil."

"But she would hurt us, badly, if we pushed her the wrong way or betrayed her, yes?"

A short nod.

"Our parents know that," Narcissa explained, "just as they know you wouldn't."

A raised brow, "Then they are mistaken, because I would orphan us all if it came to that."

"Not over a marriage engagement."

Andromeda made a harsh noise in her throat, "I'm only eighteen, I have tw-"

"You have until you graduate. Our parents might have to wait for Bella but they won't wait for you. I heard them talking this summer. Andromeda, if you want to have your freedom, then you need to pick someone, and you need to pick someone soon."

"I-"

"Do you want to end up with Lestrange?" Narcissa demanded. "You know Mother is fond of those boys -for whatever accursed reason. Do you want Bella to end up with the other Lestrange? Bella will follow your lead. Even if it is just a contract, she will agree to marry one of them if you do."

Andromeda looked away, the rage and shame clear on her face. "I don't want to get married, Cissa."

"We don't have that choice."

She spun to face her, a shimmer of power heating the room, "And do you know who you will marry?"

"I have two or three in mind, yes," Narcissa said cooly.

"How can you be so… so calm about this? Two or three? Getting married isn't like adopting a kitten."

"Who said marriage has to be about love? I just want someone respectable who I can put in their place when needed, but you? I know you. You are a romantic and you want more."

"I'm not going to find the love of my life in school! Not in one year when in seven years no one has so much as caught my eye!"

"Not until Harry Potter."

Andromeda made a noise somewhere between a groan and growl, "I don't know him. I don't know anything about him. He's interesting, but I don't love him. I don't even like him enough to begin to think about-"

"Then get to know him. Or get to know someone else and learn to like them, or it will be Bellatrix Lestrange and Andromeda Lestrange for two undeserving moss wipes."

For a moment Andromeda looked as if she might cry, Narcissa hugged her. "We will get through this," she promised.

Andromeda hugged her back so tightly it almost hurt. There was a price to be paid for being born into the Black family, and they couldn't even say it was because they were women -because Reggie and Siri didn't have it any better than they did.

In fact, Heir Black likely had it rougher than any of them.

Aunt Walburga was one reason Narcissa had abandoned any notions of love. As the youngest, she was the most disposable. She would not be forced to marry her cousin, not for power, not to be Lady Black, and certainly not for money.

Narcissa Black was no one's whore. Even if she didn't hate Sirius, she wasn't going to be her cousin's bride.

Voldemort roared and slashed at one of the walls, making it buckle and splinter like a torn tree.

Months had passed, months, and he was no closer to discovering what had gone wrong with his Horcruxes.

One day at the beginning of the summer his soul had shredded itself, and he had spent the night coughing up blood, his throat feeling as if he had swallowed glass.

Nowhere, not in any of his research had he ever discovered a way for a soul to just spontaneously shred itself apart. In fact, it seemed to be an impossibility, the soul, after all, did not like to be separated, it fought violently to stay together.

Voldemort of all people knew that. Knew the amount of work it took to rend his own soul. So if he hadn't done it and his soul had not acted on its own, then that left an attacker, but he could not imagine how someone unseen could have managed it.

And there was no question that they had managed it, one's soul being torn asunder had a very distinctive feeling that could not be mistaken for anything else.

Voldemort went to his restroom to splash water on his face, his face that was as much a weapon as an Imperio. Thick brown hair framed his aristocratic features.

Eyes the color of dark blood shined back at him, a physical symptom of his ravished soul. He had made five horcruxes, had intended to make seven but the spontaneous sixth soul split had changed things.

No more soul magic. He would go to the cave tomorrow, one more night of rest and he would go back to the cave and the cottage. He needed to ensure their security, so much so that not even he would be able to reach them. He was certain that the two he had stored at Hogwarts would be safe. No one knew the secrets of that castle as he did.

He glared at his reflection, despising the weakness he observed there. Whoever had managed to attack him with Dark Arts stronger than his own would pay, would pay in blood, bone, and sorrow.

Thousands of miles away a young man blinked at his own reflection, the version of red eyes and another's memories giving way to the reality of Hufflepuff's restroom and eyes glamoured to the color of sapphires.

"Harry," Ted asked, shivering in his night robe as he watched Harry grip the sink for support. It was four in the morning and the other boy looked as if he was running a fever. "Are you sick?"

The raven-haired boy shook his head, turned on the cold tap and rinsed his face. When his friend turned to face him, he was smiling. Ted felt his worry grow, not lessen at that expression.

"No, I'm great. Wonderful, in fact."

Ted doubted that whoever was on the receiving end of such a look would be 'wonderful' because that look on his face was the same one James Potter wore when he was about to trigger a plan.

A plan that typically resulted in the immediate suffering of everyone around him.

Not for the first time, Ted was glad he was on Harry's side.

"I think we should tell McGonagall," James said early the next morning.

Remus sighed, "Finally."

"Why now?" Sirius asked.

"Because it would be better coming from us, and besides, someone else should know that Wormtail is a rat."

"True enough," Padfoot said.

"Should we go now?" Remus asked, he'd been suggesting this from the beginning. He was grateful to them but his rule-abiding self was unsettled by keeping such a large and illegal secret.

"She's probably still in her suite, breakfast doesn't start for another fifteen minutes."

Fully dressed the trio exited the portrait hole and went down a few paintings to knock on McGonagall's suite entrance, well, knock to the side of it, it would have been rude to knock on a painting.

The painting swept inward revealing the stern face of the raven-haired, green-eyed witch whose face only got sterner upon seeing them. "What's happened now?" she asked with no prelude.

"We have some confessions we would like to make," Sirius said cheekily.

McGonagall sighed, much as Remus had done. "Well, come on in let's hear it."

Five minutes later she exploded with the question, "You did what!?"

They couldn't tell if she was proud or horrified.

Probably both.

Euphemia was reading over Harry's last letter with a pleased smile.

Fleamont came up behind her with a cup of coffee and kiss to the temple.

"I haven't had this much fun exchanging letters since I went to France that one year on my own."

He chuckled, sitting beside her and sipping from his own mug. Harry was a very curious person, and he wanted to know everything and about them and their family history.

Little over a month of him being awake and at school and Henry had nearly written the boy a novel, regaling him with tales that James would have sooner burned than read.

"Can you believe this last letter?" Fleamont asked. "A hippogryph?"

Euphemia winced, but she was too proud to be truly upset, "A first time flier hippogryph."

"He has an affinity for magical creatures."

"He was almost eaten by kelpies," she objected.

"And his letter before this one showed that he isn't afraid of those either, or at least not angry with them."

"He worries me."

Fleamont patted his wife's hand, "He has top marks in DADA, and if the boy wasn't competent than the kelpies would have done worse. Have a little faith him, he's a bright kid."

Euphemia frowned at Harry's letter, where he had carefully answered their returning questions. None of his responses were ever carefree, unless he was enthusing about magical creatures. "He's also a bit secretive."

"He writes to us four days a week. You wait, once he spends winter break with us -in person, he will open up. I had a friend like him at work, a great guy who came from a hard family. He could be tight lipped at times too."

She sighed, "He's a lot like Sirius, isn't he? Those two seem to be getting closer than James and Harry are."

"James will come around, he's just not used to not being the one in the spotlight. That last Quidditch match… I regret we weren't there to see it."

"I doubt if we were, James would have wanted us to be," she pointed out.

'Tru-" he cut himself off, "Is that another letter from Harry?"

An owl had flown into the room.

Hedwig hooted from her perch, indignant about the idea that her human wouldn't wait for her return.

"No," Euphemia told Fleamont as much as the snowy owl, "Looks like it's from Minerva."

His coffee suddenly tasted bitter and heavy. He sighed heavily, it was never a good thing when Minerva wrote them, it usually meant their son had gotten into something bad enough that it couldn't be fully handled by the professors. Though 'handling' James was a somewhat laughable notion all on its own.

She read the letter and breathed, "Oh, Merlin."

"What did he do now?" he asked reluctantly, praying James hadn't gotten into a fight with Harry. They hadn't been blind to when Lily Evans had begun to make appearances in his letters, something that did not bode well for the boys getting along.

"We have to take James to the DLME," she answered.

"What!?" he asked, spilling his coffee over himself and the table, "Let me see!"

She handed the letter as she said, "He's an animagus, we have to get him registered."

"Merlin," Fleamont breathed, before smiling, "Well, that's great news. What an accomplishment!"

"He could have gotten terribly hurt, Monty."

He kissed her cheek and waved his wand at the mess he'd made of his morning coffee. "But he didn't, and that's what matters. Let's go, maybe we can bring Harry along too. He's never seen the ministry before."

She smiled at the thought, "Oh I'm sure we can. Harry wrote that DADA class was canceled for the next two weeks."

"Did he ever mention why?"

She shook her head, "Just that Albus sacked him."

Just as they were about to leave a second owl came. This one from Sirius' father asking if they wouldn't mind taking Sirius along with them.

"Those boys," Fleamont said, shaking his head, "next I suspect we will be getting a letter from Remus' father."

"Oh, no," she disagreed, "I suspect Remus is why they pursued becoming animagi."

"What do you mean? Remus would never suggest anything to break the law. He's the sensible one."

"Remus is a werewolf."

"What!? Why didn't you tell me?"

She shook her head, "I wasn't a hundred percent certain, but he was always so sick without having any kind of disease that his father would put a name to, and when the boys started calling him 'Moony'... well, it was a hunch. A hunch that this now proves, after all, werewolves only attack people not other animals."

Fleamont took her hand, "It doesn't matter, the Lupins will always be welcome at our home."

She squeezed his hand, "I know."

They disapparated together with a resounding pop.

Hedwig decided to fly home to her human, sensing trouble on the horizon.

Harry was a bit concerned when he was called into McGonagall's office, but felt himself grinning when he saw his grandparents. He couldn't help but run at Euphemia. It was one of the best feelings of his life to be met with open arms.

Mrs. Weasley had always been so kind, but with the Potters, he felt like he belonged and wasn't just a hanger-on. Fleamont hugged them both.

When he pulled back, James rolled his eyes at them, but he was grinning. "So cousin, we're bringing you along on our field trip."

Harry raised a brow, "Oh?"

"We have to bring James and Sirius to get registered as animagi, and we thought you might like to join us. The ministry is a unique place," Euphemia explained.

"Yeah!" he said, "I'd love to." He turned back to James and Sirius who still looked a bit tired but not as bad as yesterday. "Could you teach me?"

"It takes years of training," McGonagall snapped.

"It took us about one," Sirius said cheekily.

McGonagall threw up her hands, "Take them Fleamont, Euphemia, before I give them another month of detention."

Sirius, James, and Harry grinned as they followed the older Potters out. The two Marauders slung an arm around Harry's shoulders so that they had to match each other's steps, Harry who bookended by them was noticeably shorter by a few inches -one of the few things that dismantled the identical twin theory.

As the elder Potters discussed who in the ministry they would have to speak with, Sirius whisper asked, "Was it you who gave Snape the shinner?"

Harry nodded.

James grinned at him, "Looks like you are one of us after all, Potter."

Harry smile was brilliant, "You have no idea."

AN: Please review? And next chapter I will promise some more Harry and Andromeda.

Chapter 12: Mysteries

KEYNOTE: Some of you might be like 'that's too easy' but Voldy isn't my only antagonist and this is early enough in his take over that not all his pieces have been laid or spread yet, hence why some items are doubled up for tempory keeping.

REMINDER: I scrunched some of the characters back and extended some birth dates e.i. Lily was older than twenty when she gave birth to Harry. And no, I don't care how the dates work out, this is fanfiction, not the history paper really I should be writing right now ;)

AN: I feel like my writing has gotten better since I last looked at this story. Also, this summer was mental torture for me, fricking dyslexia and languages. So please forgive my embellishing things that I didn't mention in earlier chapters, the flow will improve as this goes on.

Thank you, Reviewers: As always, these chapters are posted for you :D

Chapter 12 - Mysteries

As Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived, he had tried not to be blown away by every feet of magic that surrounded him. But as Harry Potter, muggle raised relative of the Potter family, he let himself look around all the oddities around him. The color of the bricks, the owls, the paper airplanes, the strange hats people wore.

For Harry, no matter how much he saw amazing things, he never stopped being amazed by the magic around him. For all the trouble it brought with it, life was better with magic.

"They are using paper airplanes because the owls made a mess of everything," James told him.

Sirius motioned with his hands, arms outspread, "Bird poop everywhere!"

Harry laughed, not because the information was new but because of the way his father and godfather laid out the details for him. He caught Euphemia smiling fondly at them, she clearly didn't just see James as her son but Harry and Sirius as well.

He was just grateful that James had started to relax around him, which caused Sirius to relax as well.

When they go to the registrar's office and was not at all pleased to see who was sitting behind the desk. Barty Crouch Sr. the judge of Harry's Triwizard tournament who had disappeared after his son had attempt to destroy, the man who had sentenced said son and Sirius to a lifetime in Azkaban.

And he was just as unlikable and harded headed as Harry remembered, "You should serve jail time for this, boys. Only the fact that you are underaged saves you."

"Why?" Harry demanded, "Because they didn't do the paperwork? It isn't like the government is so infallible that if the Ministry knew everything no crime would ever happen."

"Harry," Euphemia chided.

"Forgive him, Barty, he is new to our world," Fleamont apologized.

"Ah, yes, Harry Potter, the bastard son left in the muggle world to save your marriage. I must say, Euphemia, I am surprised to see you all in public -together."

The temperature of the room dropped several degrees, and Euphemia stepped in front of them all and threatened, "Watch how you speak to me, and remember who beat who in a dueling ring."

"You can't honestly believe he is some distance relative?" Crouch pushed.

Harry felt so guilty for being the cause of this rumour, it wasn't true of course, but there was no way to prove it wasn't true. Not unless he wanted to come out and say, Sorry, I'm James' son, time travel and all that. But that would cause more problems than it would solve.

So Harry took a different tack, and yeah, maybe he was throwing an innocent under the bus, but this particular 'innocent' had tortured the Longbottoms into insanity when he was barely seventeen years old.

"I would rather be a bastard than be someone who practices the Dark Arts," he said stepping out from behind his grandmother.

Crouch gave him a disgusted look, "I did not get this far in magical law enforcement to be a practitioner in the Dark Arts, boy."

"Well, it would seem that your son doesn't have the same regard for laws that you do," Harry sniped back.

"What are you talking about?" Crouch asked sharply.

Harry had heard the rumour mill in Hogwarts, knew what his little talk with Andromeda Black had caused a rift in Slytherin House against the Dark Lord. Now here was an opportunity to further turn the tide against Voldemort. The brilliant part was it would be hard to trace it back to him. One small suggestion here, to the Head of DMLE and Barty Crouch Sr. would never let it rest. He would investigate his own son, and his son's friends, and the chances of him not catching a whiff of there being a new Dark Lord with so many funny disappearances going on seemed rather unlikely.

So Harry tipped the domino, "I saw Barty Jr. with a couple of Dark Art books. I thought the title The Power of Darkness and Shadows was sort of an intense title for a first year. But then I'm just a muggle raised bastard so what do I know?"

The room was absolutely frigid at this point, and Crouch Sr. stared at Harry for a long moment as if he could see into his mind and pull out the lie.

The thing was, innocent or not, Barty Jr. did have those books. Harry had slipped them into his bag in passing one day so Snape wouldn't be able to guess that he had taken them. This new plan might jeopardize that plan, but it was worth it to get Crouch Sr. to leave his grandparents alone and have the Head of DMLE onto Voldemort's tail early.

Crouch Sr. seemed to decide not to dignify Harry's remarks with a response and turned from simpering old school bully into a cold businessman edgy to get them all out of his office.

"James Potter, if you could state your name, your animagus form, and any known markings, then you will transform for a picture to be put into the records."

James did as instructed, his stag form was almost too big for the tight office, his antlers brushing a bookshelf. Sirius followed the same steps, his grim form getting a frown from Crouch Sr. As soon as the paperwork was signed and dated, they were ushered out and the door was slammed behind them.

"Is that true?" Fleamont asked, "What you said about Barty's son?"

Harry nodded, knowing even if it wasn't true now it would be soon. The Marauders weren't the only ones playing pranks in Hogwarts and stories had begun to circulate the school about dead animals, like songbirds and squirrels showing up in the first year Slytherin dorms. Only last week did someone's familiar -a calico cat- turn up dead, it's insides missing.

The first year girl had spent all of that week crying and Slughorn had been beside himself trying to find a culprit. He had failed and Harry couldn't think of anyone else who would be trying to traumatize first year Slytherins.

Barty-Moody had been psycho enough to pretend to be a crazy ex-Auror and be called Voldemort's most devoted follower, his right-hand man. Not even Bellatrix Lestrange had received that dubious honor.

"Poor man," Euphemia said, "Barty will be beside himself if he finds something."

"And he will find something if he looks, that man is ruthless. In the future, Harry," Fleamont suggested, "don't attempt to make enemies out of powerful men. They can make your life quite difficult later on."

Harry thought of all the times he had almost been murdered, tortured, or expelled by 'powerful men' and women. And he didn't regret for an instant anything he had done to go against any of them, not the Dursleys, not Voldemort, not Snape, not Rita Skeeter, and not Umbridge. It hadn't always worked out in his favor but if he hadn't resisted…

"I think speaking up for what you believe in is more important than making friends because bad people will still do bad things to you whether you play nice with them or not," he said defiantly.

Sirius looked at him as if he was able to read more into his words than the others.

"You should have been in Gryffindor," James declared.

Harry made a face, "But then who would keep you from winning the Quidditch cup which would ultimately lead to your ego imploding your brains."

There was a beat when James looked at Harry and Harry wondered if he had gone too far, but then his young father began to laugh, Sirius barking added to the merry sound.

Euphemia and Fleamont exchanged smiles as their three boys bonded by picking on each other and being general menaces to society.

The Potters took them all out to eat for dinner were Sirius and James stole the show, telling jokes and dominating the conversation. Harry was more than happy to be silently included. Despite what James' jealousy seemed to tell him, Harry hated being in the spotlight unless it was when he was catching the snitch. Otherwise, enjoying good food and his family alive and vibrant around him was his idea of paradise.

Harry was starting to believe the Sorting Hat had been right the first time in trying to sort him into Slytherin, because in the process of dropping them off on the grounds and their walk back to the castle, Harry managed not only to swipe the map but the invisibility cloak from James' satchel bag.

Which is why when he managed to sneak his way into the Forbidden Forest he nearly had a heart attack when Andromeda Freaken Black asked from behind him, "Little late to be strolling through the woods, isn't it, Potter?"

He spun to face her, his pulse in his throat, "How?" he asked, his heartbeat fluttering, "How the actual hell did you find me?"

She raised her wand and spoke a few Latin words that seemed to Harry to be an advanced version of the 'point-me' charm.

"It only works if you've tagged the person," she explained.

Foolishly, he looked down at himself as if there was something he could have seen.

"Your quill," she said, laughter in her tone, "I spelled it when we were studying with Ted."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I wanted to find you," she answered, her voice velvet.

"But why?"

"What are you doing in the woods at night?" she asked in turn.

He shook his head, and then there was a loud screech from deeper in the trees.

Andromeda didn't step back, but she gripped her wand more solidly as her eyes searched the darkness.

Harry turned his back on her and walked toward that sound.

"Potter!" She called, running to catch up to his side, "You shouldn't be here."

"Neither should you," he said, not slowing. He had one night to get to at least two of Voldemort's Horcruxes before the Dark Lord locked them away from even his own reach.

Harry had one night.

This was stupid and dangerous, of course it was. But in his vision, his mental merging with the Dark Lord, he had heard him think that he would ward off -at least the cave, so much so that not even he wouldn't be able to reach it. He had no idea where he kept the ring, in some warn down cottage that could be literally anywhere. He wasn't even certain which country that image had come from. But Harry remembered were the cave was. A cave that held a silver locket and golden cup, just like the one he had seen in that dream, memory, or version he had when he'd nearly been drowned by the kelpies months ago.

From the same memory, Harry also knew the diary and the crown thingy was in Hogwarts. Four out six wasn't bad. Well, if he could get through the creepy cave, and technically, if he was the sixth Horcrux than he had himself too.

Another screech sounded, echoed by several more, along with the sound of hoofbeats bounding through freshly fallen leaves surrounding them.

"What is that?" Andromeda asked, she sounded wary more than afraid.

"Well, you hear the hoofbeats, so among the four legged in this forest, there are centaurs, hippogryphs, unicorns." He stopped and pulled out a slice of meat from a pouch he had gotten from the kitchens before heading out into the forest, "but in this case-" He throw the meat into the air and skeletal horse with black leathery wings swept out of the denser treeline to catch it, "thestrals."

He looked at her, his eyes having adjusted to the moonlight filtering down between the bare trees. Her skin was very pale, her hair and her eyes very dark. But her eyes managed to catch enough light to shine in the dimness of the little clearing.

"You can see them," he stated.

She didn't disagree, only asked, "What are you up to, Potter?"

He threw a few more handfuls of meat into the woods, thankfully he had enough to give the entire herd a bite, even if it was just a small treat, none were left out. The house-elves were truly impressive when you asked for a favor.

"Harry," she tried again.

He sighed, "I told you about the Dark Lord."

"What of it?"

"I learned something."

"Something that requires you to wander off into the Forbidden Forest."

"Thestrals," Harry began, patting the head of the one who approached him hoping for more treats, it made a purring-clicking noise as Harry's hand ran over its oddly smooth skin. So smooth, in fact, it felt soft. "Have excellent senses of direction."

"Great," she said acridly, "you're a magical creature whisperer, now tell me what you think you are doing."

"I need to leave," he said non-committedly.

"Forever?" she asked, and there was a curious note to her voice.

"No, but I'll be back before morning."

"I'm coming with you," she declared.

He smiled, "Without knowing where I plan to go?"

"I'll find out when we get there, as long as we are back before morning."

Harry thought briefly of rejecting her help, but a few things stopped him; first, she was two years older than him, second, she was a Black, and third, he probably shouldn't have been trying to get through Voldemort's traps on his own. Looking at it that way, he probably needed her and needed to not assume his fickle luck would get him through everything.

He held out his hand to her and she took it without another word, without a moment of hesitation. Her hand felt very right in his, warm and steady. He helped her mount first, then she helped pull him up in front of her. He bent forward over the thestral's neck and whispered where he wanted to go. Unlike Buckbeak, the thestral didn't take a running start, just launched itself upward into the night sky.

It was October and the night was chill but clear so they could see all the stars in the sky.

Andromeda didn't gasp or scream, but she did wrap her arms around him from behind. He settled into her warmth and tried to think of everything he could recall from Voldemort's memories rather than the feeling a young, attractive woman holding him close as the flew above Scotland.

When they landed, Harry was both energized and a bit flustered. He sobered when he directed them to where he knew the cave opening was.

"Can you explain what we are doing now?" she asked looking at the wall as Harry looked for some type of handle or notch or something.

He sighed, "Have you ever heard of Horcrux?"

Even in the dark, he could read the astonishment and distaste on her face, "Where did you hear about them? I know they weren't in the books you slipped to little Barty."

He flushed, though he was pretty sure she couldn't see that. "Barty Jr. is a monster."

"As we were all suspecting, but sicking his father, who is Head of DMLE on him was a low blow, Harry."

"Wait, how do you know I told his dad?"

"I knew who really stole Snape's books and I knew where you were this afternoon. So naturally when Mr. Crouch Sr. storms into the Great Hall at dinner to collect his son, I knew who to blame."

"Did you tell anyone?" Harry asked, somehow already knowing she hadn't.

"No, but I hope you realize that poor firstie will either be pulled out of school and-or sent to St. Mungo's."

An image of Neville's mute parents filled his mind, and his only response was, "You know, maybe he needed help."

"If you believe that Crouch Sr. is going to help him, then you don't know what Pureblood families are like. The Potter Family are outliers, not the norm."

A twinge of guilt filled his heart, but he didn't have time for it. "Can you help me find the entrance?"

"Tell me first about the Horcrux and how you came to learn about it."

"I can't tell you how I know, but I can tell you that the Dark Lord made five of them and I know for a fact two of them are in this cave."

"Five?" she asked, "He split his soul five times?"

"And he will be here tomorrow to make sure no one can get at them, to secure his immortality so it would be impossible to completely kill him."

"How-" she began, "Nevermind, I'll get it out of you later. Move. It is likely a blood sacrifice."

"Why would you assume that?"

"Dark wizards aren't as creative as they like to think." She cut her hand placed it on the stone Harry had searched most thoroughly.

There was a dim glow and the rocks shifted with grinding slow turn. She used a spell on hand to close the cut, then a different spell he didn't recognize on the rock. She didn't so much as flinch. She said, "Never leave your blood around for the enemy."

They walked inside, the entrance closing behind them, trapping them inside the cavern. They called lights to their wands, the spell barely penetrating the darkness. The reached a lake that was illuminated in some strange green glow.

"Don't drink that water," she said sternly as if he had been planning to dive in for a refreshing swim. "No matter what, don't drink, don't even touch it."

"I wasn't planning on it," he said, scanning the cave for a boogeyman to jump out at them. Did Voldemort have another Basilisk hanging around?

"There's a boat," Andromeda pointed, "I'm assuming our Horcruxes are on the island."

"Yeah, but is it as easy as getting into the boat?" he asked as they approached the small craft.

"I'll go first for whatever comes next, this is my fool's mission, not yours," he said.

She didn't argue with him as he stepped into the boat.

They waited and nothing happened, not until Andromeda got into the boat did it propel itself into the creepy lake.

The ceiling was so high and the darkness so dark that the lights from their wand could not penetrate it.

"Don't look into the water, don't touch the water. We are not tipping this stupid thing," Andromeda instructed.

Harry refrained from smart talking her, he was honestly grateful for her presence. Voldemort may or may not have had Bellatrix Black on his side, but Harry had Andromeda Black and he was beginning to think she was the most dangerous out of the three. She was clever and sane. Though, she had followed Harry into this death trap so how exactly sane she was might have been debatable.

Nevertheless, he was grateful she was here with him and he wasn't going to ignore her advice.

When they got onto the island they were careful not brush the water. They walked up to the little dais with its little bird bath of green liquid.

"He has a thing for green," Andromeda observed.

"He's obsessed with Salazar Slytherin. He calls himself the Heir to Slytherin."

She looked at him sharply, her face tinged blue and green from the artificial light sources. "Is he?"

Harry shrugged, "He's related to the Gaunts, I think, and he can open the Chamber of Secrets, but so can I, so that's not really that impressive."

"You can open the Chamber of Secrets," she repeated drily. "Who the bloody hell are you?"

He picked up the spoon and began poking the bottom of the dish, nothing clinked into the spoon. "I'm Harry James Potter," he said.

"You are terrible at answering questions," she stated, her tone exasperated.

He looked up at her with a grin, "But not at asking them; how do you think we get the Horcruxes? I know they are here."

"But you won't explain why they are here or how you know they are here."

He waited.

She sighed, "I suppose you will have to drink the poison, that's what the ladle is for."

It was his turn to sigh, "This is a bad idea."

"And you are going to drink it anyway. You should have been sorted into Gryffindor. You know avenging your dead mother is sweet and all, but revenge is cold comfort if you get yourself crippled or killed."

Pocketing his wand, he met her gaze as he lifted the spoon filled with the noxious potion from the basin, "Saving my friends and family from certain torture and possible death, is very warm comfort."

"I guess there is the Hufflepuff in you; family and friends, not fame and glory."

"I thought that was Slytherin," he quipped.

Her hand caught his before the potion could touch his lips, "Once you drink it, you must finish it, I suspect this is as much a potion as a ritual. And make no mistake, Harry James Potter, what you are about to drink is poisonous."

He nodded, and she didn't release his hand as he brought the spoon to his mouth and tipped it back.

It tasted predictably horrible, it burned and tasted spoiled, like a spicy rotten egg, but the taste had nothing on visions and the emotions that overcame. His knees buckled, and if it wasn't for Andromeda there to half catch, half press him to the basin, he would have fallen.

Distantly, he heard her say, "Drink, Harry drink, the faster you drink the faster it will be over."

Blindly, he followed her instruction. As he listened to his parents die for him, as he watched Cedric fall lifeless beside. Brilliant green light obscuring the low lighting of the cave.

Kill the Spare. Not Harry, not Harry! Take Harry and go upstairs, Lily!

His worst memories, like the Dementors but so much worse. It wasn't despair he felt, it was guilt, bone numbing, heartrending guilt. Enough guilt to choke on, to die on.

A cool hand smoothed back his sweaty hair from his forehead, "Drink, Harry, almost there, drink and it will be over."

Over.

He drank. And each time he drank another spoonful of desolation, the kind, deceitful, beautiful woman would say, "Almost there. Almost there."

She was lying, the basin was the size of a medium sized pot, there was no way he was 'almost there.' But he didn't hold it against her, didn't refuse what she offered him.

He could feel himself crying, the tears hot on his cheeks, he fought with himself not to choke, and it was only his determination that images, that death knells he was hearing could be stopped if he defeated Voldemort. If he could beat him before he ever rose to power, then no one would suffer and whatever he felt now was a small price to pay for that.

His suffering had always been such a small price to pay.

All these people, who had died because of him. Lily, James, Cedric… "Mum," he croaked brokenly. An image of young Lily reading at his side flooded his senses, the sunlight and cool breeze a distant, lovely dream. "Lils…" he whispered the name to the spoon against his lip.

"Last spoon, I swear it this time, Harry, last one."

He drank and for a moment he lost the fight against himself.

He wished they had just let him die. They should have let him die.

What might have been minutes, what might have been an hour later he came to himself, curled into the soft chest of a woman who was stroking his back and rocking him on the ground.

Harry felt himself go bright red, and pushed away from her. Or he tried to, Andromeda held him tightly, giving him a moment to regain himself more fully.

And when he did he felt not guilt, not shame, but thirst, burning, burning thirst. It was if he had eaten a jar of peanut butter or eaten an entire loaf of dry bread.

"Water," he gasped, "I need-"

"No," she said firmly, and wrestled him to the ground, "I told you, don't go near the damned water."

He struggled, but in his weakened state, she was stronger than him.

"Harry, Harry, stop fighting me, stop."

But he needed water, he had to get a drink, he had-

She kissed him.

The world stopped. The blood in his veins, his thoughts, his needs. Everything. Stopped.

Her lips were full and soft, and unlike Cho Chang, Andromeda's kiss was neither wet nor awkward. Andromeda knew exactly what she was doing.

And suddenly, all he needed was her lips on his. He kissed her back letting her take the lead, her kisses were addictive, and with each pass, he grew more confident, bolder. So that his hands trailed up her sides, felt the muscles of her back as she held herself above him. He didn't care that he was in some dark, literally cursed cave, or that he had just had a mental break. And he certainly didn't give a damn about the water.

She rolled off him before he was ready for her to go. He laid back on the stones, stunned, relearning how to breathe. Andromeda was able to compose herself by the time he sat up. She offered him a hand and pulled him to his shaky feet. Using the hem of her sleeve she picked the two items out of the empty basin. With her free hand she opened his satchel and shoved them in, making sure to buckle the bag.

"Let's get out of this dank cave," she said.

He barely caught up to her, and as she got into the boat first, it began to drift back to the other shore before he had both feet in. She yanked him into the boat before his foot touched the water, and he fell onto her in a tangle of limbs.

"I'm sorry," he gasped as he attempted to righten himself as the boat rocked in the water.

"Shhhh," she shushed him.

He quieted, stilling all motion, and they heard something flop into the water. They both reached for their wands, listening for more.

Nothing.

Then something bumped the bottom of their boat.

They didn't jerk or scream, just held very still, waiting.

Several more flops, somewhere deeper in the cave.

They were about halfway across the lake, and without discussion, Harry and Andromeda -as carefully as they were able, turned back to back, covering their progress from either direction.

White somethings seemed to press beneath the inky water's surface, not quite creating ripples, more like gentle waves that brought the lake alive. The green glowing mist mask more than it illuminated.

It seemed to take forever to reach the shore.

Something thudded against the side of the boat, and rather than being pushed back it seemed to drag beneath them, then came a scraping sound from the stern, nearer to Harry, like the scrapping of nails along the wood.

He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

They held still, their breathing shallow, as several more somethings scrapped and hit from beneath the water.

Mirculaclously, they made it to the shore without being attacked by whatever they had unwittingly awoken. Andromeda, at the front, got out first, her loss of weight dipped the boat back.

A wet, bony, slimy hand grabbed Harry's leg as he tried to launch himself out of the boat. He turned to see what had him.

His mind went blank for a moment at the decaying corpse monster that wailed at him in a sound akin to an animal being stabbed and dog growling, simultaneously high and deep, and utterly inhuman.

Inferius, his mind supplied helpfully, and ever the DADA nerd that he was, he screamed, "INCENDIO!"

Fire blasted from the tip of his wand and the thing screamed, throwing itself back into the black water. Harry scrambled out of the boat, not letting the spell drop. He half ran, half stumbled backward, with his free hand held out behind him so he didn't smash into the cave walls.

The inferi, hundreds of corpses, decaying, clothless, rotting, slimy flesh climbed out of the water like perverse salamanders.

Wherever his spell wasn't aimed, they mobbed, so he waved his wand back and forth as if he were warding off mosquitos rather than zombies.

Andromeda, beautiful, intelligent Slytherin goddess that she was, hadn't waited up for him, so by the time he reached her, the rocks were sliding open and she was using the spells to heal her hand and erase the blood that would erase the evidence they had been here, or at least that they had been the ones here.

He let the spell drop and they sprinted out of the cave. The door was slowly enough to close that a few of the inferi were able to crawl out like spiders. Harry made a leaping mount onto the thestral, Andromeda only had time to grab his arms as the thestral was spooked into flight. Clenching hard with his calves and thighs, Harry used his upper body to lift Andromeda upwards. Gracefully, despite the layered skirts, she straddled the thestral behind him.

For a time, all they could hear were each others' heavy breathing and the sound of the wind rushing around them, chilling the sweat on their brows.

Compared to the cave, the starless sky before the break of dawn was almost painfully bright.

Andromeda hugged him from behind, and rested her forehead on his shoulder. Her body began to shake. He worried that she was crying. "Andromeda?" he asked. He turned in his seat to look back at her as she threw her head back and laughed.

His breath caught as he watched her be consumed by a rush of wild laughter. Harry decided right then as the sun crested the mountains, yellow-pink light coloring her skin, the wind blowing her mass of hair behind her, that Andromeda Black was the most beautiful female on the planet.

It was both well after dawn and well before breakfast when they landed, jelly-legged, sweaty, and exhausted.

No words passed there between them but for a whispered, "Thank you," and her "You're welcome," as they parted ways, her toward the dungeons, him toward the kitchens.

She went straight to the shower, turning the water on to near scalding. As her bones warmed and stickiness washed from her skin, she mulled over the night, over Harry.

So many mysteries, so, so many memories. But she was too spent to truly process the details.

She put her fingers to her lips, remembering the sensation of his lips parting under hers, his hesitation, followed by his hunger. Yet he hadn't pushed, only going as far as she led him.

She liked that, she liked that a lot.

He had tasted of salty tears and rye bread. An interesting aftertaste for a poison. Still, she wondered what his kiss would be like in less drastic circumstances.

She shivered, before turning the temperature of the water to cold.

Andromeda hadn't meant to go so far with him so fast. She intended to get to know him before pursuing him. But it seemed the more one got to know Harry Potter, the more mysteries one discovered.

And damn her if it didn't make him all the more appealing.

AN: That is the last chapter of the year and it took forever to write. Please, please review? Pretty, pretty please?

Chapter 13: This One

KEYNOTE: Most characters, even characters who are friends of the Potters are going to assume Harry is Fleamont's bastard son. It isn't mean, just that half siblings are more likely to look alike than cousins/uncles.

Chapter 13 - This One

That there were inferi on the outside of his cave did not bode well. They were animateless rotting flesh, cut off from the magic of the cave. But they were fresh, still wet from the lake they had crawled out from. He could find no trace of who had opened the stones, not on either side of the entrance.

The basin was dry when he got to the island.

Two of his horcruxes gone.

Voldemort bowed his head, a simmering pit of rage pooling in his gut. His hands fisted at his sides, his ring biting into his fingers where he had placed it not hours ago. He raised his face to the darkness and let the magic in him rage. He roared at the ceiling, for the pieces of his souls he had lost, for the enemy he did not know.

No one heard him. But they would. And whoever was behind this would pay.

Would pay with more than just their blood and sanity.

He would take everything from them.

Including their soul.

Harry was in Transfiguration when it happened. By force of will alone he managed not to scream. But he bit his lip so hard he tasted blood.

He had felt pain from his scar before, but somehow this was worse. It was as if Voldemort wasn't just holding his scar, but as if his entire body had become a tuning fork for his power.

Voldemort, it seemed, was far more powerful here than he had been in Harry's time. Which made sense, he still had his original body in this reality.

"Harry," Ted whispered, "Are you alrig-"

Harry's answer was falling out of his seat, his entire body twitching as if he were being held under the cruciatus curse. It didn't quite hurt that badly, but…

"Harry!" several voices shouted.

He was suddenly surrounded by people. He wanted to tell them to give him space. He couldn't focus on their faces, so they were just a blur around him. Had his glasses fallen off? His breathing grew more shallow and he wondered how long until he passed out. The edges of the world were darkening…

A cool hand touched his forehead, and it was as if a switch had been thrown. No pain, no foreign magic, and none of Voldemort's emotions.

He slumped on the floor panting, trying desperately to get a hold of himself. He blinked back tears and though he couldn't see the features of the face hovering above his, he could make out the color of her flaming hair and her green eyes.

He wasn't sure what he would have said or done next, because his mother removed her hand from his scar and the pain and fury came rushing back.

When his eyes began to roll back into his head, he didn't fight. He let the unconsciousness sweep him away into sweet, blissful, quiet darkness.

"What's wrong with him?" James demanded from McGonagall who had sent Ted and Remus to go get Madame Pomfrey. They were all afraid to move him because no one knew what had caused it.

"It looked like something was using the Cruciatus Curse on him," Sirius said.

It was suddenly hard to swallow, and James looked down at the boy who could have been his twin brother. A sheen of sweat gleamed on his too pale skin, his bloodless face was made worse by the violent shade the red his scar had turned. Harry's breathing was shallow, and his eyes were slightly parted showing the whites of his eyes, and every now and then, his body would twitch in some involuntary movement of pain.

It was like the Kelpies all over again, only this time James knew him. Or at least knew him better. Sirius had been right about him from the start.

Harry was a good person, and whatever this was, he didn't deserve it.

James looked to the side to see Lily, and for once he wasn't jealous of the concern on her face. He took her hand and squeezed her hand as he said, "He'll be alright, Lils." He had to be alright.

She squeezed back, almost clinging to his hand, "What happened?"

It was the same question Madame Pomfrey asked as she came into the room, shewing everyone back. She scanned his body with various spells. Ted Tonks watched her every move like a hawk.

"What happened to him?" Sirius demanded, his voice sounding panicked.

Pomfrey looked up to meet McGonagall's worried gaze. The Healer's normally stoic face when she was examining a student had cracked, her expression looked highly disturbed.

"Class is dismissed," McGonagall said abruptly, "Everyone, out of Madam Pomfrey's way. Mr. Potter, if you would not mind fetching the Head Master?"

James darted out of the room, running as if his life depended on it. He didn't know what was happening, and he had the sinking suspicion that neither did the adults.

"Can you describe what happened again, Minerva?" Albus asked.

She sighed but repeated, "One moment he was focusing on his spellwork, the next thing I know he is falling to the ground as if he was being tortured. Albus, it honestly looked as if he was being held under the Cruciatus Curse."

Poppy was lost in her own thoughts and had yet to respond to their questions. She was staring at the boy's head as if she could see through it and read the answers scrawled onto his flesh.

"Lily Evans touched his forehead and it stopped, whatever was happening, stopped. But the moment she lifted her hand it seemed to start again and he passed out."

"And that is perhaps the most curious of all. Had it been the Cruciatus Curse that would not have happened."

"Unless they hadn't wanted to risk hitting her."

"Which is certainly a theory."

"No," Poppy said, speaking for the first time since Albus had entered the room. They had sent James and his friends away.

"No," she said.

"What happened to him?" Minerva demanded, her voice harsh, showing how concerned she was.

All the staff seemed to adore the boy. And who wouldn't? The boy was as talented as his brother was without the taste for trouble, although he did seem to get hurt often.

Poppy ran her fingertips over his forehead, brushing back the wild black curls. "He said his mother had been killed by a dark lord, didn't he?"

"What of it? Poppy, just tell us what's happened to him?" Minerva pressed.

"This scar," she summoned a cool cloth and laid it across his forehead. "It reeks of the Dark Arts. I don't know how I missed it, I don't know how the healers at St. Mungo's missed it. Such an old scar -I can only say if it wasn't inflamed now, I wouldn't have known to look. Someone… someone tried to hurt him, badly, but they failed and left something behind. I can't tell what -exactly, but I saw something similar in my training."

"Can you remove it?" Minerva asked.

Albus stood, lifting the cloth back to take a look himself.

"Theoretically, but-"

His scanning spell told him what Poppy was about to say before she got the words out, "Not without killing him."

"What is it?" Minerva asked, as if by asking enough times the answers would suddenly present themselves.

"It's alive," Albus said, letting his magic glide over the boy's aura, "It's ingrained itself in him -this, this is ritualistic magic. I doubt even if we could find the original ritual we could not undo what was done, this is old magic-"

The boy's aura repelled his search spell, not violently, but enough so that Albus let his spell drop, "-wild magic. Tampering with this, would almost certainly kill him."

"What would kill him?" Euphemia asked in a voice of steel as she strode into the room, Fleamont and Pomona having to nearly run to keep up with.

They explained to the worried guardians what they knew, and Euphemia asked the next natural questions. "So why did he collapse today? Why was he in pain? And how do we keep it from happening in the future?"

No one had an answer for her. At least, not a good answer.

When next Harry opened his eyes, it was to the glaring rays of the morning sun. He groaned as the light poked at his retinas, he squeezed his eyes shut, and winced at the smarting pain his forehead.

His only thought was that he hoped that this younger, more powerful, more dangerous Voldemort had felt the connection they now shared yet.

Defeating the Dark Lord had suddenly been attached to a time schedule, because it had just become very clear to him, that when Voldemort did find out about him -which he undoubtedly would, Voldemort would destroy him.

From miles and miles away, he could tear through Harry's mind like a lit match in a haystack.

Now would be a good time to learn Occlumency, but he had low hopes that he would be any better at that now. Time travel had changed a lot of things, his effort and interest in school, his home life, his outlook on life, but it hadn't changed his base skills. And Harry just wasn't any good at the 'mind arts.'

"Harry," a gentle voice asked from beside his hospital cot -which he couldn't see but was familiar enough to recognize. "How do you feel, son?"

He turned to that voice and said, "Grandma," only his throat was so dry the sound didn't really make it past his throat. He coughed violently, sitting up to better catch his breath.

He was choking on the freaking air.

"Drink this, dear," his grandmother commanded, pressing a glass of water with a straw into his hands. She was sitting on the cot now, rubbing his back.

He held his breath and swallowed as much water as he was able.

"Slow down, Harry, slow," this from his grandfather who had joined in on rubbing his back.

Harry took several deep and even breathes, letting himself relax into the parental touch on his back. He was sure it had happened before, at some point, but at that moment, it felt like the first time somewhere cared enough offer such wordless comfort.

"Can I have my glasses, please?" he asked, hating the depthless haze of light and shadows in front of him.

Fleamont offered them and he put them on gratefully.

"Harry," Euphemia began, "do you remember what happened?"

He nodded, not at all wanting to speak. He didn't want to lie to them.

"Do you know why it happened?" Fleamont asked.

A sliver of the Dark Lord is in my head because he murdered my parents -your son, when I was a baby. But I magically survived the Killing Curse and now have a hotline to Voldemort's emotions and mind.

Aloud he answered, "It happens sometimes, but I don't know why."

It was a lie, and the reason why it had happened had been completely his fault. But telling his guardians that he had snuck off school grounds to look for dark artifacts in a cursed cave in the attempt to take out a Dark Lord, probably wouldn't have gone over well.

"Harry," Fleamont began gently, "the night your mother died… could you tell us again what you remember, please?"

"Screaming," Harry said shortly, "and green light."

"Green light that killed your mother," he said slowly. "Do- do you remember what spell the wizard used against you?"

He could have lied, but Harry had told Andromeda the truth, and if one person knew… well, it was easier to omit than to tell a straight lie that he might forget later on.

"Green light."

The look Fleamont gave him showed that beneath the friendly businessman, jolly husband, and doting father was a very sharp mind.

Euphemia suddenly hugged Harry tight, catching him off guard so that he hesitated before hugging her back. "You're ours now, Harry. We will protect you, I swear it."

"We swear it," Fleamont said, joining the hug.

They were both huggers. Harry hugged them back, tightly, and couldn't help thinking that they had it turned around.

It was Harry who would protect them. He had been sent back in time with the knowledge and the upper hand. He would do anything to keep this family safe. So what if he died? With a little bit of luck, he might be able to ensure a future where his parents could grow up and have multiple kids, where his grandparents might get to be great-grandparents, where- the list was endless.

Harry would do whatever it took to protect them.

He swore it to himself, to the bloody universe.

For the next week, Lily, James, and Sirius were insufferable to be around.

"If one of them asks me one more time about how I am, I'm going-" he ended with a growl.

Ted smiled indulgently, but his eyes were solemn as he scanned Harry over with an assessing look.

Harry couldn't complain, well he could complain, but he was just grateful Ted didn't voice his concern. While his little episode in Transfiguration had certainly been the worst Harry had experienced since his touch-off with Professor Squirrel, Ted had seen bits of the show before.

Harry had taken to soundproofing his four-poster, but Ted still woke each time he got up to use the loo or take a shower. And he knew what Ted saw, observant, would-be healer that he was, saw Harry's sweaty, shaking, and sometimes unstable state. Sometimes it was just dreams -nightmares of his parents and other memories, but mostly, it was the intense riding of Voldemort's emotions amplified from his greater power.

The other Hufflepuffs kept their distance from Harry now. They weren't rude or anything, but where they had once seemed open to building a friendship with him, now they were just pleasant acquaintances.

Harry sighed and flipped his bag open and pulled out his stack of books. Lovingly putting the extended Fantastic Beasts tome to the side to start his Charms essay. He looked up briefly and caught sight of Andromeda browsing a stack a few tables away from them.

He looked away before she caught him staring at her -again.

Ted elbowed him, "Are you going to moon over her forever. James might be a pathetic puppy begging at Evans' heels, but at least he actually talks to her."

Harry flushed, "It's not like that."

"Please, Potter. I'm not blind, and she certainly isn't. Make a move already, she won't say no."

He looked at him sharply, "Did she say something?"

Ted grinned at him, "No, but is there something you would like to share?"

He shook his head, pulling out some parchment from his pack.

"Oh, come on," Ted mock whined, his voice low to not attract the unwanted attention of the librarian. "Something happened last week. I've known Andromeda since I was a first year, and she's never looked at anyone the way she looks at you now. What changed?"

"Nothing," Harry said flustered, trying hard not to remember the feel of Andromeda's lips on his, trying not to wish to do it again with more accommodating surroundings.

"You're lying," Ted sang, his tawny eyes sparkling with humour.

Harry looked at him, and was suddenly reminded of Nymphadora. He couldn't pursue Andromeda, not if it meant undoing the cheerful Auror's existence.

Abruptly, Harry asked, "Don't you love her?"

He huffed, "Didn't we tell you already? There is noth-"

"I'm not blind either, Ted. I am not getting in between whatever you two have. I just can't."

Ted shook his head, "They aren't joking when they say loyalty can be a fault, were they? Harry, listen to me; I do love Andromeda. Merlin knows, I do. I would do anything for her, anything. But I don't love her romantically. Dromeda is family, and I don't want to date her. Besides, however I look at her, certainly isn't the way your eyes -undress her."

Harry's face went bright red, flustered, he protested, "I don't-"

Ted laughed, and Pince popped around her cart and shushed him.

"I don't do that," Harry whispered low once she retreated back into the stacks like a spider, how such a petite woman could invoke so much menace into a shush was a mystery.

"Harry, there is nothing wrong with liking a beautiful woman. A little suicidal, seeing as she's a Black and you will have to deal with her family, but you're a Potter, half-blood or no, legitimate or no, her family isn't going to smite you on the spot if you ask her out on a date."

Did Horcrux hunting in a cursed cave count as a date?

But the kiss they shared, as amazing as it was for him, he knew she had only kissed him to keep him from getting them both killed. Which wasn't personal, it was survival.

Harry felt his shoulders slump, even if he took Ted at his word, and if he could live with himself for preventing Nymphadora from being born, the chances of Andromeda actually being interested him were pretty slim.

She looked at him because she wanted to know what he had done with the Horcruxes, because she wanted to know his secrets -like where the Chamber of Secrets was, but she wasn't interested in him as a person. That was pure fantasy.

"Just drop it," he said, even to his own ears he sounded morose. "It is going to happen."

"Potter, your face is an open book, give yourself some credit. There isn't a girl in this school who wouldn't be slightly titillated to get your attention."

"Titillated?" Harry asked, amused, unable to picture that word with Andromeda Black.

"Titillated." Ted's voice was firm as he said, "You see the way girls fawn over James and Sirius, and aside from a few missing inches, you are just as good looking as they are."

"No, I'm not. Proof and point, no one fawns over me."

"Of course not, you're not an outrageous flirt. You're too polite, the good boy. No one knows what to do with you. Every girl who comes up to ask you out ends up asking for help on some assignment or talking about the weather. You give them those big blue eyes and earnest expression, and they simply can't find an opening to ask you something intimate."

"That isn't true."

"Potter, you are the Virgin Mary of wizards."

"Excuse me?" Harry asked, half smiling. It was one of those rare moments that he had heard someone in the wizarding world reference muggle religions outside of 'dear God.'

"You heard me, you are clean. Squeaky clean. You're so pure no one ever assumes the worst of you."

A thousand memories crossed Harry's mind.

Kill the spare. My son!

The taste of Arthur Weasley beneath his fangs.

He shook his head and looked down at his hands.

The feel of Quirrell's face melting, burning beneath his hands.

The words I must not tell lies, permanently scarred onto the back of his hand.

He stood up, grabbed his bag, and began shoving his books back into it.

"Harry," Ted started, sounding worried, "Harry, wait, I'm sorry. Wait-"

But Harry was already leaving.

Of all the things he was or wasn't, clean wasn't among them.

Ted let him go, brilliant friend that he was, he knew when Harry needed space, even if he had terribly misjudged where he sat on the morality measure.

After all, Harry was planning to murder a man -evil or no, it would still be murder, and if he hurt people along the way -like Crouch Jr. who had been committed to a wing St. Mungo's, so be it. Harry wouldn't let anything stop him from taking Voldemort out.

No, he wasn't clean, or innocent. He squeezed his hand, the words on his hand feeling like a brand, an accusation.

He was a liar.

After all, he didn't even have blue eyes, he was green eyed -like his mother.

It took Andromeda a whole week to corner Harry on his own. Every time she caught his gaze, he would look away, flustered. It was adorable -and irritating.

She never thought it would be this hard to seduce someone with this little experience. And he was inexperienced, he had none of his brother's ego, and none of Sirius' swagger. He wasn't even as comfortable in his own skin as Ted, yet Harry Potter managed to escape her grasp every time, like a fish in a river.

Of course, there was one haunt she knew she could snatch him in. Too bad the owlery wasn't much more romantic than a cave.

He nearly jumped out of his when she touched his shoulder, the letter had been about to tie to his Snowy Owl's leg fell to the ground.

She didn't give him time to think, to evade her. She was impatient, and his complete avoidance of her had given her time to decide, that yes, she did wish to pursue him. The handsome boy, with a thousand and one secrets, and enough magical power to make any girl go weak in the knees.

Her lips caught his, and he stopped pulling back. He kissed her with fervor as if he were trying to remember or outdo their first exploration.

His mouth wasn't dry this time, and he tasted like apple pie and pumpkin juice. When she pulled back, she was very pleased to see his dark blue eyes a bit dazed.

"Hello, Mr. Potter," she purred.

"Hi," he said a bit weakly, "Er, Andromeda, this is my familiar Hedwig, Hedwig this Andromeda Black."

Andromeda met the owl's amber gaze, and for a moment it felt as if the little feathered creature could read not just her mind, but her heart and soul.

Hedwig nodded at superiorly, and Andromeda couldn't help but feel as if she had just passed some impossible test. It left her feeling a little flat-footed.

In the time this took, Harry managed to compose himself, because he asked suddenly, "How are you at transfigurating roosters?"

She looked away from the bird to him sharply, "What?"

"Roosters. Hagrid's are all too young at the moment. I've been trying to transfigure an adult for the last week and I can't get mine to caw."

She was felt so confused. "Why? What do you need a rooster for?"

He smiled at her, mirth shining in his dark gaze. And suddenly Andromeda felt as if her being a Black wasn't something that would phase this boy. That perhaps anyone short of being a Black, simply wouldn't be able to keep up with this one.

AN: Please, review with your thoughts and reactions?

Chapter 14: Salazar, The Creep

POWER RANKS/KEYNOTE: Just because Harry didn't have the experience of fighting off Death Eaters in Order of the Phoenix, doesn't mean he isn't currently capable. This Harry is canon level strength, only he is bit more focused on his school work than he was in the books so he has better grades. His strengths are Magical Creatures, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Charms. He's also surprisingly good at Herbology -though he doesn't have much passion for that subject. For the rest, he just puts the work in to be a good student, but his transfiguration isn't comparable to James and Sirius.

Sixteen year old Harry versus average Death Eater, Harry would win -just like canon. Power level wise least to greatest, I would rank Ted, Remus, Severus, and Regulus together: next Lucius, James, and Narcissa: then Sirius, and Harry: Minerva, Filius, Bellatrix, and Andromeda: Voldemort, Grindelwald, and Dumbledore. Harry could move up with work and age, and he does have the same raw power as Voldy, but he just isn't there yet.

AN: I am writing faster than the beta can edit and I am writing waaaay more than I should. Thank you to the reviewers who have shared your reactions and thoughts with beyond 'post the next chapter already.' There are some days reviews get me through the day :D Also, to the native French speakers, I am learning and if you want to review in your mother tongue I shan't complain.

P.s. Of the mistakes I've made calling Professor Quirrell Professor Squirrel isn't one of them, it is a purposeful insult ;) In fact, spell check gets mad at me for writing it.

Special shout out to cameron1812, hakon2feb, and saya4haji, I cannot thank you enough for your continued support.

Chapter 14 - Salazar, The Creep

"Padfoot! Have you seen the map and my cloak, I can't find it," James said digging through his trunk where he had locked it.

"Maybe Harry took it," Remus offered, not looking up from his book.

"He couldn't have," James disagreed, "You can't steal something you don't know exists and I never told Harry about them."

Sirius shook out his pack and the James' on the floor, pens, wrappers, and random strips of paper fell scattered across the floor. "Maybe it was Wormtail," he said, squinting at the pile on the floor and reaching for Remus' bag, Remus zapped him with a stinging hex.

Sirius yipped and backed away from the werewolf's book-laden bag.

"It better not have been," James growled.

This was not how she expected the night to go. Perhaps they might have found an empty classroom, or even a broom cupboard, but sneaking into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom under an invisibility cloak hadn't made the list.

She walked behind him, because as she a bit taller, especially in her boots, she could see over his shoulder easily. His hair really was wild, and it smelled floral as if he used some type of hand soap on his hair.

"Why are we here?" she whispered in his ear, delighting in the full body shiver she caused him.

He reached his left hand back to touch her arm and led her to the sinks, he stopped at one and bent forward a bit.

He hissed at the little metal snake. Said little metal snake came alive and things in the wall began to move. He stepped back and she stepped with him. A tunnel appeared and Moaning Myrtle cried out into the room, "Who's there!?"

Harry ducked out from the cloak and slipped down the tunnel, not waiting for her.

Andromeda stared into the dark abyss, her thoughts muddled, and she couldn't place exactly what she had gotten herself into. She stood there for a minute, the invisibility cloak draped over her like a veil, putting it together that this must be the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.

Bella would be so jealous.

She sat down on the lip of the tunnel and pushed forward.

In a rush of air, she sped down the tunnel and was propelled forward into Harry's waiting arms. It would have been perfectly splendid if it wasn't for the crunch of small animal bones beneath her feet or the cloak between them.

Once she caught her balance, he released her and swept the invisibility cloak over her head, folding it into his pack.

"This way," he said, picking a seemingly unmarked tunnel, "Watch out for the ceilings, they aren't all stable."

"What do you mean they aren't stable?"

"I am pretty sure we are beneath the lake, you can touch the cave walls and what not, you could probably withstand you punching or kicking them if you feel the need, but they won't withstand a blast from a spell."

"Noted," she said blandly, becoming less impressed with the 'Chamber of Secrets' by the minute.

That was until they came to another fancy door with a rather impressive relief of several serpents.

Again, Harry hissed at them, and this time she recognized it for what it was.

The door opened and he went in, only to pop his head back around the entrance to look at her where she had been frozen on the stopped.

She couldn't keep the astonishment on her face.

"Andromeda?" he asked.

"You're a parselmouth," she stated.

He nodded.

"My parents are going to adore you," she breathed.

He raised a brow at her tone, "Is that a problem?"

She shook her head, then laughed, "No, no. I just thought it would be an impossibility. Why weren't you sorted into Slytherin? Every Parselmouth, ever, has been sorted into Slytherin House."

He shook his head, "I'm here to kill Salazar's Basilisk, not make friends with it. I'm all for scary, dangerous, magical monsters, but this thing was made by wizards to kill children."

Her eyes widened, "A Basilisk?"

"What did you think the rooster for?" he asked as if she were the crazy one in this equation.

"Indeed," she said dryly, "naturally, rooster, Basilisk, never one without the other."

"First time I did this was with a sword, this will be far safer," he said, then he bit his lip, and his eyes slid away from hers, as if he had something he shouldn't have.

First time.

She narrowed her eyes at him. Sweet, little, muggle-raised, Hufflepuff her arse. But she wouldn't push, not here, not now. Harry Potter wasn't escaping her, he was hers whether he knew it or not, whether he accepted it or not. She had time to strip him of his secrets.

And she would savour every reveal.

They walked side by side into the antechamber that was both magnificent and egotistical.

Did Salazar have self obsession complex? Who made this many sculptures of themselves?

Men. She nearly rolled her eyes as they walked closer to the statues.

Harry had them hide around a corner and she couldn't help but ask, "Won't it be able to smell us?"

He nodded, "It will, but it won't think to at first. You need to wait until it slithers out onto the floor before making a rooster, I do not want to crawl into that secondary hidey hole."

He pulled out a clean looking kerchief from his bag and doubled it with a charm. He held one out to her, "Just to be safe, I have bezoar if we get a bite but the gaze of it is instantaneous death."

She knew that, but didn't chastise him for the reminder. She took the kerchief, but instead of putting it on herself, she reached forward and gently removed his glasses. His eyes flickered shut, waiting.

He was pretty for a man, more than handsome, his features were graceful, something his glasses had distracted her from noticing. She folded them and hung them on the collar of his robes. She brought the blindfold up and tied it behind his head, running her fingers through his curls.

His mouth parted in a soft escalation, and she couldn't help but lay a kiss those soft lips. He didn't fight her, and he kissed her back as sweetly as she kissed him.

She had kissed boys before, mostly Ravenclaws who she had helped distract as Bella sabotaged their homework. But those boys had been slobbering, breathy idiots, too astounded to being kissed by one of the Black Sisters to think or respond as a partner. They just took what they had thought they wanted.

In the end, none of them had taken anything, and what she and her sisters had given them they found out they hadn't wanted.

But Harry was different, not quite passive, just highly responsive, waiting for her lead and giving as good as he got.

She was never going to let him go. She pulled back and put a hand to the side of his throat, feeling the rapid flutter of his heart beat.

She smiled, who she could learn to like this one.

He pointed his wand to his throat, performing some charm. He offered her the second kerchief, but she didn't take it, wondering what he would do. Blindly, he fumbled as he raised the cloth to her face, once his hand bumped her face, he seemed to steady. Deftly, he tied the blindfold behind her head, returning her gesture by running his hand through her hair. It was her turn to shiver.

When next he spoke, his voice came from the opposite side of the chamber, his hissing filling the darkness.

The sound of stone shifting over stone grated against her senses. She had a moment to wonder how they would know when the snake touched the floor, but after a few minutes, she heard the sound of scales moving across stone. It was as if somewhere were dragging large matt.

The thing hissed and Harry hissed back, it touched the ground.

In English, he called, "Now, Andromeda!"

She pointed her wand toward the wall where she had seen a small pile of rocks, and visualized a rooster. She knew she had succeed but the useless creature didn't caw, the snake was moving toward where Harry's voice had been project to, further into the room.

Andromeda transfigured more rooster, none of the buggers made so much as a garble. Furious she tried to think of what made them caw.

"Lumous," she whispered, raising her wand.

The snake seemed swoosh around, if the sound of rain on a metal roof was any indication.

Harry began to hiss rapidly, and she realized how stupid her reaction had been.

Luckily for them both, several roosters cawed.

The Basilisk let an almighty screech, it hit the ground like a tree falling on the forest floor.

She ripped off her blindfold and looked at the monster she had just killed with a cock.

The thing was huge, and Harry approached it like it was just par for the course.

He slipped on a pair of dragonhide gloves one used for potions, an extra strip of leather. Out of his pack, he pulled out the silver locket and the golden cup they had recovered from the other cursed hole in the ground he had taken her to. Then he pulled out a teria placed in an enlarged pickle jar, a journal, a quill, and an ink bottle.

Harry sat beside the head of the slain snake, opened the journal and the ink bottle, dipped his quill into the well, and began to write.

"What are you doing?" she asked, crouching beside him so she could read what he was writing.

It read thus:

I've slain your pet Basilisk. Now, I am going to kill you, you stupid Horcrux and all your friends. Die Tommy Boy, die.

The words faded into the page and the words emerged on the page that Harry did not write.

Who are you?

Harry's response was short: Your worst nightmare.

With that, he closed the journal, laid it on the ground beside the others. He turned, wrenged one of the snake's fangs out of its mouth -explaining the dragonhide gloves, with his full body weight, and brought the fang down in a stabbing motion.

Wailing filled the chamber, as black smoke was released into the room.

He didn't waste time in stabbing the next one, it too, wailed with a release of black smoke.

He hissed at the locked and stabbed it the moment the thing latched open. He hesiated at the jar with the tieria.

"Is that Ravenclaw's Diadem?" she asked suddenly, realizing that locket must have been Salazar's and that the cup had been Helga Hufflepuff's.

"Yep. On my count could you vanish the jar and the water in it, this thing has a mind of its own and it figured out had to move on its own. It nearly got me, but I am an old hand at avoiding spider-like creatures."

"You so weren't muggle raised," she muttered as she pointed her wand at the jar.

He cocked a smile at her, "Sure, I was. My bedroom was the cupboard under the stairs. My old best friend used to be terrified of spiders, but I had to sleep with them, as long as I didn't try to squish them, they didn't bite me. Not even in my sleep."

She stared down at him where he rested on his knees prepared to kill a peice of a dark wizard's soul.

He was a conundrum.

"Ready?" he asked.

She gave a short nod.

He counted down and after the last beat, she vanished the jar and water, careful to focus her spell around but not at the diadem. Like Harry had described, it had legs and tried to pounce at her, but he stabbed it before it got an inch off the ground. Wail, black smoke.

"Well," he said, "that wasn't so bad."

She let that pass. "At least that is the last of them."

"Nope, Voldemort collected his ring Horcrux and there's another one that I don't know how to get rid of without getting myself killed."

"So, two more, plus the dark lord himself. How do you know all this?"

He shrugged, stood, and brushed the dust off himself. "Thank you for your help," he said.

She frowned at him, "You will have to tell me what's going on at some point."

He smiled at her, "Do I?"

"Yes."

He stepped toward her, and for the first time, initiated a kiss, a kiss bold and as lovely as his smirk.

When he pulled back, it was her who was at a loss for words.

"I'm not the only one with secrets, Ms. Black."

He wasn't wrong.

Albus Dumbledore received a very odd, a very worrying package one day.

Inside the small package was a bezoar, a Basilisk fang, Hufflepuff's Cup, Ravenclaw's Diadem, Slytherin's Locket, an old journal with the name Tom Marvolo Riddle on it, and oddest of all, set inside a protected smaller box, was a pair of socks with phoenix's on them.

Albus rather liked the socks.

All of the objects had been presumably stabbed by the Basilisk fang -aside from the bezoar and delightful magenta socks, with red and orange phoenixes on them.

A note that had been spelled to be untraceable, the letters were written with a self writing quill so not even the handwriting could be traced.

Dear Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore,

One might suggest you research a book by the title 'Secrets of the Darkest Arts' and one might also suggest you look into the doings, whereabouts, and associates of one Tom Marvolo Riddle.

The bezoar is just in case you cut yourself on the fang -one would suggest you don't cut yourself on said fang, seeing as Salazar's Monster's poison is, in fact, quite poisonous. Although, your familiar could save you with a bit of sorrow.

Anyway, please enjoy the socks, the only thing magical about them is their fantastic design. They seemed very you, thus why they were included.

Stay Safe,

DA

P.S. Give Fawkes a treat, he's a good a bird.

Albus felt profoundly confused, and for the life of him, he could not begin to guess who DA might be, or how they might know his favorite present was socks.

Sirius cornered his favorite cousin two weeks after Harry's incident in Transfiguration.

"What's going on with you two?" he asked, holding her behind a pillar. The five of them manhandled each other a lot, mostly because once they start flinging spells at each other things and people around them started to getting damaged.

Andromeda didn't fight him, mostly because he was holder her right wrist and they both knew that it was her left hook that could lay him out on his arse.

"Nothing, Siri."

"Nothing," he repeated sardonically. "You have him wrapped around your finger, Drom."

"No, not yet."

He pressed her a little harder to the wall, "Harry is a good person."

"And I'm not?"

"You are the best out of the five us, you know that, but that isn't a very high bar. Harry is the highest damn bar I've ever encountered."

"I don't think you know much about him."

His blue-grey eyes narrowed on her, and he asked again, "What do you want with him?"

"He's mine."

His eyebrows shot up and he stepped back from her, "A Potter? A Hufflepuff? You know our parents won't be happy with him. They will think he's Fleamont Potter's bastard son."

She smirked, which made him suspicious, "Perhaps, but they won't forbid it. They would forbid Bella from him, but not me. He's powerful and he's a half-blood, that's good enough."

"Since when is a half-blood good enough?"

"Since mother tried to drown me in a well when I was ten, they don't care what I do so long as I don't run off with a half-breed or mudblood."

"Do you have to use that word?" he asked with a sigh. "I know you don't believe any of that nonsense."

"I can have him if I want him. Don't ruin this for me."

Sirius ran a hand through his long curls. "He's a good person, Drom. Don't hurt him."

She met his gaze with dark eyes and said, "I'm a good person, too. Slytherin or no, Black or no. I am not evil."

He let out a long breath and pulled her into a hug. "I know," he said into her hair, "I know that."

Harry wasn't really sure if he was dating Andromeda or not, though he supposed they might as well have been, seeing as he couldn't imagine trying to pursue anyone else while being pursued by one of the Black Sisters. Who -by Harry's estimation, was just as dangerous as Bellatrix Black, only Andromeda, as hard edged as she was, had a kindness in her that her sisters seemed to lack.

Of course, he hadn't met Bellatrix in person, but he'd looked into her dark gaze and had not seen the warmth there that burned in Andromeda's gaze.

But they hadn't really talked about dating, or much about each other, or anything else really, between her watching him in the halls between classes and kissing the daylights out of him in secluded corners.

A couple people had spotted them, but oddly the rumour mill had not caught on yet. It seemed they people who tried to blab got laughed out of the room at the mere idea that Andromeda Black -Bellatrix Black's sister would ever date James Potter's Potterpuff of a bastard sibling.

The whole thing seemed to amuse Ted greatly, who picked on Harry constantly for his 'forbidden' affair. Which didn't make Harry feel any better about possibly preventing Nymphadora from existing. But it truly seemed like neither Ted nor Andromeda had the slightest interest in each other beyond friendship, something that became more apparent when they began studying in the library together and they both started poking fun at his shyness.

He didn't mean to be shy. Some moments he felt like he was top of the world, and then there were moments when he couldn't conceive how someone as beautiful and incredibly as Andromeda could be interested him. The most interesting thing about him was his secrets and his flying.

He sighed, tonight was all Hallows Eve, historically not a great night for him. Nothing had happened at the feast, though he still found himself unable to eat, sick with worry that something might happen to them. And by them, he meant everyone, especially his young parents, Sirius, and Andromeda.

Though, in all honesty, it would be kind of funny to have seen something come after her, after all, Black Sister versus troll was an easy equation.

Still, he worried.

Ted had turned in already, he'd put himself into a food coma, leaving Harry to try hopelessly to read a book. Not even Scamander could ease his mind tonight.

Unable to sit here a moment longer he grabbed his father cloak and crept out of the dorm.

Unsurprisingly, Harry wasn't the only one out of curfew, and he needed to wait only five minutes outside the entrance of the Slytherin dorm before a Slytherin came in. It was Snape and Harry smirked at the boy's outrage if he learned it was he who had let a Potter into their dorm.

The common room was empty, the lake water dark outside the windows. Figuring he didn't have much to loose, he went towards the opposite corridor Snape had disappeared into.

Andromeda was in the midst of the odious task of brushing through her wet hair.

"I can do that for you," a voice said.

She whipped around to see the speaker who sounded far too masculine to be here.

"Harry?" she asked. "What are you doing here?"

He raised a brow, "Do you not want me to be here? I can leave if you like."

"No," she said hastily.

He held out his hand, "Then give me the brush."

She smiled, he could be done right bashful sometime, but there times like now were he was almost jarringly direct. She handed him the brush and turned her back on him. She watched him the mirror as he worked through her damp tangles.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

He was quiet for a long moment, and didn't interrupt the building silence between them which was occupied only by the sound of the bristles through her hair.

Harry seemed to decide on the truth because he said, "No, I'm not."

She waited and a few minutes later, he said, "I hate Halloween."

"Why?" she asked, holding back a shiver as he brushed her hair back from her face, the feeling on her skelp made her want to purr.

"It was the night I became an orphan."

She didn't say anything, didn't pity him or give him some empty comfort. She just sat still and listened. He didn't say anything else as he finished brushing through her hair. He leaned over her to put the brush on the counter, his hand coming up to comb through her now smooth hair. She shut her eyes and leaned back into his touch. When next they opened, his face was very close, and she accepted the kiss he offered.

They parted and he took a seat on her bed. "I don't know much about you," he remarked.

She stood, and put a hand on his chest, she pushed, and he laid back. She sat beside, and he looked up at her, his body relaxed, passive.

He was probably the only person on the planet who wasn't even the slightest bit afraid of her. "What do you want to know?"

"What do you think of your family?"

She laid down beside him, "What do you think of your family?"

"Which one? The foster family or the Potters?"

"Both."

He sighed, "My foster family were -are lowly pieces of owl droppings. My cousin was a brainless bully, my uncle was a tempermental hippo, and my aunt was a horse faced crazy person. She had me cooking them breakfast by the time I could stand and I did more chores than most homeowners. Summers were the worst, no school to break up the time, and it seemed the garden always needed to be weeded in the hottest part of the day. I hated my life there, I hated them."

"And the Potters?"

He turned his head to look her, and smiled, "I love them. They are too good for me. James is a bit spoiled, but he has a good heart."

"My family…" Andromeda began, "We have issues. My mother is evil, my father is deaf to anything that doesn't fit his picture of the way things should be, much like his brother. My aunt is a cow. Sirius is erratic but very dear to me. Reggie is too meek for his own good, and my sisters -they are a part of me."

"What is Bellatrix like?" he asked curiously.

Andromeda looked up at the ceiling, "Bella is extremely powerful, a little broken, and very lost. She has a disconnect between her thoughts and her emotions, she doesn't deal with intense emotions well."

"What is she doing now?"

"Traveling. She's in France right now with our Uncle Orion."

"Is she alright?" Harry asked, "I mean from being apart from you and Narcissa?"

Andromeda turned on her side to face him, pleased at his insight. "I would not say she is flourishing, but like many people on vacation, she isn't trying to build a life for herself, just exploring. She's going to America after winter break. It's a big country so she won't be back until the end of the school year. This summer we are going to Uganda for an exchange program."

"They have summer school?"

"Sort of, the students who are coming here will be doing internships with the Ministry, not the staff at Hogwarts."

"Any particular reason for choosing Africa?"

Her smile felt wicked, "Wandless magic, Uagadou has mastered it. They hardly ever use wands."

"That sounds amazing," he said, eyes alight with interest.

"I'm just happy not to be going home," she said, "Cissa and Reggie are coming with us. Siri has been sentenced to house arrest for not being a proper heir to House Black. He's going to miserable."

"He's always welcome with the Potters."

"I wouldn't be surprised if Siri ran away, the only reason he hasn't already is to keep his brother safe."

"Who are you talking to?" a voice interrupted them.

Andromeda bolted up, Harry sitting up with her.

"Potter?" Cissa asked, her grey-blue eyes wide, "How did you get in here?"

"Why are there only two beds in this room?" Harry asked in return.

"We kicked the other girls into their own room, this is the Head Girl room, technically," Andromeda supplied.

"How did you get in here? No boy has ever managed it before, much less a Hufflepuff. You should have been attacked by a thousand paper and metal snakes," Narcissa said as she approached them, hands on hips.

Harry shrugged, "I told them I didn't mean any harm and to stop moving. Which I meant, but can I just say how creepy it is that that's all it took? And if I could do it then that means that Salazar or his any of his descendants could have gotten through. I have nothing against Slytherin House, but Salazar Slytherin was a creep."

"Salazar Slytherin was a great wizard," Cissa said peevishly.

"A great wizard, but not a great person. Winston Churchill did great things for Britain, but he wasn't a great guy either."

"Who's Winston Churchill?" Andromeda and Narcissa asked in unison.

Harry rolled his eyes, "You're British and you don't know- you know what, never mind, it isn't important."

"You still haven't explained how you got past the defenses, surely the curse didn't just listen to your kind and earnest words, Potterpuff," Narcissa sneered.

"He's a Parselmouth," Andromeda answered for him.

Narcissa did a double take, "He's a what?"

"Like I said, Salazar was a creep, and nothing you say will convince me otherwise. Spawning Basilisks is a no-no."

"What?"

"Did you get the cards?" Andromeda asked.

Narcissa flipped her beautiful blonde hair and said, "Of course." She sat on the foot of the bed across from them and asked, "How are you at wizarding poker, Potter?"

"Um," he answered smoothly.

"You truly are a Parselmouth?" she asked again.

He hissed at her in a long stream of sibilant sounds.

"What was that?" Andromeda asked.

"Yes, and no, I'm not good at poker. Also, I didn't bring any money to play with."

"That's alright," Andromeda said, bending to reach beneath her bed.

"Money is boring," Narcissa said with a sly smirk as she dealt out cards.

"We play with liquor," Andromeda said, placing a bottle of fire whiskey in the center of the bed.

Harry's expression made them both laugh.

"Relax Potter," Cissa purred, "it's a holiday."

His dark blue eyes narrowed on her, "Game on, Black."

AN: Yes, the last section was a bit whiplashy -verbal sparring is supposed to be, especially when no one in the room is completely sane. Please review?

Chapter 15: They Will Pay

AN: Lots more solid text in this chapter, but I needed my plot to move along. More character development to come in future chapters. But this is the pausing place for the next two weeks or so. Many thanks to the reviewers!

Chapter 15 - They Will Pay

Harry woke on his back looking up a ceiling with a dull headache. He could see the ceiling because he had somehow managed to fall asleep with his glasses on. In fact, it seemed like he had all his clothes on, except his shoes. He wiggled his socked toes, and then crunched his stomach to sit up, only there were two weights on either side of him that made him pause.

He looked down and found two girls curled around him.

Shouldn't I have noticed that first? But his head was still foggy from the amount of Fire Whiskey he had consumed last night. The loser of each round had to drink half a shot. Narcissa had kicked both their arses, but Harry had the suspicion that Andromeda was just throwing her hand when she wanted a drink. Leaving him to believe that the 'game' wasn't really about winning but an excuse to drink.

Harry had been trying, which the more he had drunk the harder that had become.

He blinked the faint haze from his eyes to try and memorize the sight before him. Both girls had their heads tucked on his shoulders, their dark and fair hair intermingling and fanning out around their backs and over his hands. Narcissa was tucked close to his side, one of her arms holding him around the waist, whereas Andromeda had thrown one of her legs over both of his and her free hand draped over his chest.

He breathed in slowly, trying to slow his pulse and settle himself. He would not make a fool out of himself and he would not be the one to wake them.

If someone had told him last year that he would have woken up in a twin bed with Draco Malfoy's and Nymphadora Tonks' mothers asleep on top of him he would have called them bonkers.

Of course, having two Black sisters in bed with him was bonkers. But he was certain they hadn't done anything last night, he hadn't quite gotten blackout drunk, he had just gone further than tipsy. He had never drank before but he was pretty sure that's what he was feeling. Although, shouldn't his head hurt worse? Maybe he was still drunk.

He tried to dig through the hazy memories, he was pretty sure that they had started to ask him personal questions after his third shot.

He had gone into great detail about his friendship with Hagrid, the centaurs, unicorns, and spiders. Harry was almost positive he hadn't said anything incriminating other than expounding on what a good friend Hagrid was -which wasn't necessarily true in this reality, not yet anyway, or about Norbert, which hadn't happened yet.

He groaned inwardly, he had been making a lot of slips around Andromeda, more than he had happened with anyone else. But the truth was, he was starting to fall in love with her. At least, his growing feelings for her were fast outweighing his apprehension about preventing Nymphadora from being born. After all, it wasn't like by dating him he was eliminating Andromeda's or Ted's chances of having kids. They could always fall in love with someone else. Also, if what Harry had learned from Dudley's biology textbook was anything to go by, unless everyone in this timeline decided to conceive children at the same time that they had last time -with various other factors involved, then a lot of the people Harry had known wouldn't be born or at least they wouldn't be the same people. Or maybe destiny and magic had a better hold on things?

He didn't know, but he did know that he would do everything it took to defeat Voldemort, so a lot of people were going to be alive and sane than they were in Harry's time. Which brought him back to the idea of Bellatrix Lestrange, Bellatrix Black. Was she saveable?

It wasn't a crime to be born with mental troubles, they just didn't excuse murder or torturing people into insanity. But Andromeda's Bella hadn't done any of those things yet. Maybe together, Andromeda and Harry could save her, keep her on the right track. Perhaps they could save Regulus too. Regulus who had probably been pushed by his mother to join and killed by Voldemort himself when he defected.

It seemed that Harry had arrived before Voldemort had established himself, which meant that there was still time, time that was quickly speeding away.

Harry didn't know what he needed to do next to end Voldemort. Facing him off in a duel was out, assassinating someone with more knowledge of curses and poisons than himself seemed stupid too.

Perhaps he should go to Dumbledore directly, or perhaps he should do something like the DA, Dumbledore's Army and amass a force amongst the student body. Which was likely conceded, but Voldemort was raising his own army from Hogwarts and recent graduates, and this time around Harry would have support from Slytherins -at least some of them.

He let out a soft breath, but were any of them anything to compare to Professor McGonagall or Professor Flitwick?

The only thing stopping Harry was that the adults had not succeeded in the past and the chances of any adults listening to him and taking what he said seriously were near laughable. Dumbledore would sooner believe his anonymous package than a Hufflepuff, time traveling sixteen-year-old.

Harry wasn't a Gryffindor anymore, Harry wasn't the Boy Who Lived, in this reality, no one had any reason to believe him, and the fact that no one had so much suggested time travel when Flitwick's spell connected Harry to James as his son, and two both Fleamont and Euphemia as his grandparents had lead him to believe that the art of time travel had not been advanced even as far as to Hermione's time turner, much less some magic mirror that skipped out of the time paradox.

Narcissa let out a soft snore and it was all Harry could do not to laugh. Mrs. Malfoy snored, he was so going to hold that over her head at some point.

Andromeda nuzzled her face further, shifting her legs further over his so that her hips were half over his, her large breasts cushioning against his chest.

His pulse was back up and he gulped, he was so out depth for this situation. Could he ask Sirius for advice? Or would that be weird because they were cousins?

It would definitely be weird, at least for Harry, to ask Ted? Ted might have been his best friend in this reality but he was also Andromeda's best and closest friend, and unlike Harry who had to keep his most troubling concerns to himself, Andromeda and Ted shared near everything.

Andromeda shifted again and this time, her face found the side of his neck.

He needed to get out of this bed.

As wonderful as it was to have his girlfriend this close to him, she wasn't fully awake, he was still a little drunk, oh yeah, and her fifteen-year-old sister was pressed to the other side of him. True, Harry was only a year older than Narcissa and almost two years younger than Andromeda, but that didn't mean he wanted to be intimate with Andromeda while still in bed with her little sister.

Of course, said little sister had other ideas. Narcissa blinked awake, her blue-grey eyes turning up to him, a slow sly smile creeping across her lips. She propped herself up on his chest, careful not to touch or disturb Andromeda, and leaned close to his face.

Is she going to kiss me!? His entire body stiffened and he pressed himself back into the pillow, leaning away from her. He would not kiss Draco's mother; no, just no.

Andromeda woke from the tension he was exhibiting, her warm eyes-such a contrast from her youngest sister's, smiled up at him then flicked toward Narcissa. Like a viper, Andromeda's hand shot out shoving her sister back from him.

Narcissa seemed prepared because she didn't fall off the bed and came back at Andromeda -with interest.

Andromeda shrieked and on instinct, Harry curled around her and rolled them off the bed. He landed on his back, her full weight crashing into his chest. The wind was knocked out of him and he was unable to move as Andromeda hastily rolled off him and Narcissa began laughing.

When he managed to sit up, he glared at both of them.

Andromeda kissed his cheek, "Good morning, Harry."

He couldn't stay mad at her.

Narcissa giggled, and he was able to not only glare but frown at her, which only made her laugh harder.

Sirius, Remus, and James were enjoying breakfast and Wormtail sat, blessedly, at the other side of the table. When Sirius asked, "Where's Harry?"

James turned in his seat and to see Ted eating his breakfast alone.

That was odd.

Harry didn't appear until halfway through breakfast with Andromeda and Narcissa at his side, which was odder still. Harry and Andromeda were holding hands and they parted with smiles.

James was about to ask Sirius if something really was going on, but Harry was coming to them looking tired, rumpled, and a bit unsteady on his feet.

"You look a bit hungover, Potterpuff," Sirius teased as he sank into a seat beside James.

"Your cousins are impossible," Harry announced, reaching for a glass of pumpkin juice and toast.

Sirius burst into laughter, "You didn't play poker with them? Oh, you poor boy, I hope you realized they hustled you, right? Cissa can count cards."

Harry nodded, "And I didn't eat last night either."

"You didn't eat?" Remus asked curiously, "but last night was the feast."

He shrugged, "I don't like Halloween, getting drunk with the Blacks was much preferable to celebrating."

"You didn't invite me, and I'm a Black to you know," Sirius pouted.

Harry grinned, "Trust me, you crazy hound, I haven't forgotten that."

James was frowning at his best mate, "Since when do you get along with your cousins?"

Sirius' expression fell but Harry spoke before he could answer, "You all better be getting along with them, Andromeda and I are dating."

Remus' jaw dropped as did James' and everyone within earshot exploded into whispers -much like the Slytherin table already was.

Sirius was grinning, "Andromeda is pretty awesome."

"She's a Slytherin," James protested.

"Of course she is," he shot back, "Can you imagine her in any other house?"

"Ravenclaw?"

Harry snorted, "I like books more than Andromeda does."

"You should have been in Ravenclaw," James retorted, "You carry heavier books around with you than even Moony does."

"James," Harry said flatly, "I was almost sorted Slytherin."

"Where were you three playing poker?" Sirius asked.

"The Slytherin dorms."

Sirius pursed his lips at him, "Not in their common room, you didn't. Slughorn would be breathing down your neck by now. In Regulus' room? How did you keep his dormmates from noticing?"

"We played poker in Andromeda and Narcissa's room. I'm still not sure I fully understand how you three and those two managed to get your own rooms."

"Wait." James held up his hand and lowered his voice, "You're telling us that you not only broke into the Slytherin dorm, which none of us have ever managed, and you got into one of the girl's dorm rooms?"

Harry nodded, then passed something to James under the table, "Yep, thanks for letting me borrow the map and cloak, by the way, they were most useful."

"You stole my stuff!" James exploded.

"Told you so," Remus sang, smiling widely.

"Borrowed," Harry repeated smoothly, "See, I'm giving them back, none the worse for wear. Besides we're family, I thought we were supposed to share." He stood and slung his bag around his shoulder. "Laters Marauders, mind your mischief."

The three of them stared after him in degrees of astonishment and fondness.

Remus asked, "How does he know so much? James, I think your cousin is going to give you a run for your money in causing trouble."

James shook his head, not knowing where to even begin with Harry.

Maybe he should have been sorted into Slytherin, after all.

A Month Passes - Harry and James win some Quidditch Matches. Harry and Andromeda become a known item, much to the consternation of the occupants at Hogwarts. Aside from Ted and Narcissa who are highly amused by the whole affair. Hagrid and Harry become closer friends bonding over their love for Magical Creatures.

Voldemort was in a towering mood. Two of his Horcruxes were gone and thanks to his one unplanned, one involuntarily made Horcrux, he had to start wearing a glamour of over his once brown -now red, eyes.

He needed to check on his two Horcruxes at Hogwarts, and conveniently, there were open interviews for the DADA positions today.

It was one of the first things to go right for him in a long time, he had only a few -mindless moronic, spies in place at Hogwarts. The Blacks had slipped his leash, the eldest -who was in France, had cut all contact with him, not returning any of his letters when they had such a delightful theoretical discussion going about the Dark Arts. But she had cut correspondence stating that her duty was to her sisters first and foremost.

How she had gone from being drawn in by his honeyed words then to being able to cut through to his intentions -that he had yet to hint at, was a mystery.

But it was much of the same mystery going around. The potions genius in his sixth year was unreachable, as was Nott and Malfoy who had been spooked by the rumours of a Dark Lord 'enslaving' people.

When Voldemort found out who had started using the word 'enslave' he would strangle them.

Everywhere he turned, more doors seemed to shut, his existence, his intentions an open secret, that only those of such low prospects were interested in joining him now. He still had key Pure Blood families in his grasp, the Lestranges, the Rosiers, the Carrows. But they weren't enough, and he would have traded both Lestrange boys for Malfoy.

It was infuriating, they weren't even turning him down because they disagreed with his worldview, they were turning him down because they didn't want to serve him, because they didn't want to put themselves at risk.

Cowards.

Still, he thought things might still be salvageable, there were older minds to be impressed upon, it would take longer than raising support among the young, but it was certainly doable.

He entered Hogwarts' great halls and felt a sense of homecoming wash over him.

He felt centered.

At Hogwarts, all things were possible, with magic, everything was achievable.

"That's him," someone whispered, Voldemort caught a glimpse of a boy with wild hair and spectacles, and for a moment he felt an instance of connection, a flash of another's emotions, fear, disgust, and… fury.

But whoever the boy was, was lost in the crowd. And the whispers that started after him made Voldemort's head spin. Their voices and laughter overlapped each other, and he froze as students streamed around him to get to their classes after lunch.

"That's him, the Dark Lord."

"The would-be Dark Lord."

"Voldemort."

"What a silly name."

"Who would choose to be called Moldemort?"

"No, Vuldemort, like vulva."

"Oh, I know who that is!"

"Slughorn has a picture of him on his shelf. He talks about him all the time and what a waste he was."

"Well, what is his name?"

"Tom Riddle."

"He was a half blood in Slytherin. Guess he was smart or something."

"And he wants to run a Pure Blood revolution? He can't be that smart."

"What a laugh!"

Voldemort was breathing heavy, he wanted to kill all of them each and every one of them. But he couldn't slaughter children, not here, no matter what people felt about sides, and adult murdering children did not garner support, especially when the majority of the speakers had seemed to be from Slytherin.

That wasn't good, that wasn't good at all.

He made his way to the fourth floor and was barely able to control his rage at what he didn't find.

He went to Dumbledore's office, so angry he could barely see, someone would bleed tonight. Multiple someones would scream and die. And whoever had started the rumours, he would find them and make an example out of them.

"Tom," Dumbledore greeted with a twinkle in his eye. "How fortunate I am to see you here. Come, have a seat, would you like any tea."

"No, Albus," Voldemort said through gritted teeth and a forced smile. "Thank you." He took a seat. "I'm here for the interview."

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore said, looking in extremely high spirits. He didn't sit behind his desk, rather leaning against the front of his desk, his hands at his sides. His accursed phoenix gave a warning trill.

They both ignored the buzzard.

"You know my experience is more than-"

Dumbledore cut him off, "Yes, your experience. Let's talk about your experiences, shall we, Tom."

"Research," he said shortly, "Into Defense Against-"

"I rather think it has been for not against." His blue eyes were no longer twinkling.

"Whatever do you mean?" Voldemort said smoothy, trying to keep his shoulders from visibly tensing.

"I received a very interesting package from an enormous source. A gift of sorts. Certainly, it included my new favorite pair of socks. Poor dear didn't seem to know that a bezoar wouldn't work against Basilisk venom, but their intentions were certainly good."

"You were given socks and Basilisk venom," Voldemort repeated slowly, trying to still his heartbeat and not jump to conclusions.

"No, they sent me a lovely pair of socks and a Basilisk fang, as well as a bezoar."

Voldemort cursed internally as the old man continued.

"And what's more the letter said it was from Salazar's monsters. I'm sure you remember the Chamber of Secrets, don't you Tom? A Basilisk does indeed seem more Salazar Slytherin's style than Hagrid's spiders he saved from smugglers from the East, don't you agree."

Voldemort said nothing, only glared up at the man, whose eyes were now focused not his gaze but on his left hand, where he wore his ring, his last safe Horcrux.

Recognition flared in the old man's eyes and Voldemort knew, knew, the bastard recognized the Resurrection Stone. He wasn't the only one who had been chasing fairy-tales. Voldemort had to decide if Dumbledore had somehow managed to get word to the DMLE before there conversation, or whether he still had time to walk out of here.

He was very glad he had brought a portkey with him.

"That wasn't the only things in the package, there was also Helga's cup, which has been missing for years, Salazar's locket, Rowena's diadem, and a journal with your name on it, Tom Marvolo Riddle."

Voldemort struck with a curse before the man could say another word. His plans had just fallen to ruin. The war had started today. The Dementors were his, Greyback and his werewolves, the Giants, no, his careful seductions were now nothing, but he wasn't off the board. Not yet.

War was now, and anyone opposed him would know death.

Dumbledore struck back with a power that had earned him the title Greatest Wizard of their age.

Tom had only to reach into his robes to escape, but it was taking all his concentration to hold of the other wizard's attack.

Pain, searing pain cut through his left wrist, and his left hand and his surviving Horcrux fell to the ground in a pool of blood.

Dumbledore didn't fight like a Light wizard, he fought with all the tenacity of the legendary Grindelwald, and Voldemort couldn't even summon the hand to himself.

A spell of blue fire shaped like a dragon came at him, and Voldemort knew instinctively that his shield would be no good against it. He summoned the portkey from his robes and was yanked away.

He landed on the ground, hard, his hair falling over his face as he curled in around his left stub were his hand and Horcrux been. He roared, he howled with rage.

They would pay for this humiliation, they would all pay!

Back at Hogwarts, one Harry Potter was screaming into his pillow, the four poster bed curtains drawn and warded to keep out sound.

He was very grateful that he had thought to go back to his dorm rather than attend his afternoon classes when he had spotted Voldemort in the halls.

He had seen the entire reveal between the Dark Lord and Dumbledore. All Harry had done had worked. Now he could only fear what Voldemort would do now. Of all people, Harry knew just how Voldemort could be when he appeared to be losing.

He waded through the pain, his scar hurting like it never had before. He didn't go to dinner, and when Ted checked up on him, he pretended to be asleep.

Harry didn't know what he had to do next, but he was very glad that Dumbledore not only knew the truth about Tom Riddle but had taken active steps against him.

Now, there was only one Horcrux left.

DAILY PROPHET: UNDESIRABLE 1#

Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr., a dark lord self proclaimed Lord Voldemort, is considered highly dangerous and unstable. Do not engage, call for Aurors for help immediately. Known for using all three unforgivables, responsible for hundreds of Muggle murders. Maybe using the Imperius Curse on several unknown people. Has been linked to a number of wizards' and witches' disappearances over the last few decades. Any known associates may be brought up on criminal charges…

AN: Please leave reactions, theories, and thoughts?

Chapter 16: A Merry Holiday

AN: You're welcome? I don't know, I was experimenting.

Beta: Ahrnberg, greatly entertained.

Chapter 16 - A Merry Holiday

"I'm going to tell my parents," she said abruptly.

Harry raised an eyebrow, "I already told mine."

She blushed.

He grinned, "Are you blushing? Is Andromeda Black blus-"

She shoved him off the bed.

Ted sniggered, "You two are adorable."

"I will murder you," Andromeda told him.

He merely smiled and went back to the essay he was finishing up.

They were all in the Hufflepuff dorm. What amused Harry was Ted's insistence they didn't have to sneak her into the dorms.

This was Hufflepuff, and if you come in trust, you were welcome. To the point where Professor Sprout walked up to them one day and gave them a curfew.

"I'm serious, Harry," she stressed, "I'm going to tell my parents."

"Okay," Harry said, adjusting his glasses.

She sighed, "Harry, they are pure bloods."

"I know that? What's the problem? So are James' parents. Euphemia said she was happy for us."

"What did Mr. Potter say?" Ted asked.

"'Watch out for the wilds of witches,' which Euphemia crossed out and wrote, don't take advice from Fleamont. Andromeda, why are you so worried?"

"Oh Harry."

Ted sat down his quill and turned to face him fully. "Potter, it is the Black family, one of two things will happen. Either they will put a hit out on you-"

"Oh no," Harry said drily, "Whatever will it be like living under a death threat."

"Just because your accident prone doesn't mean you know what it is like for a dark wizard or witch to be out for your head."

Harry was pretty sure that he had lived most of his life under threat of every dark wizard and witch in Britain. That was, after all, the reason Dumbledore supposedly kept him with Dursleys. But he kept that to himself.

Andromeda was staring at him with dark eyes, "Harry, I graduate at the end of the year. My parents will have me engaged before then."

He stared back up at her where she sat on the floor, "Are you… are you proposing to me?"

Ted didn't laugh as he had expected.

"Andromeda?" he asked.

She shook her head, "No, no. But don't be surprised if my parents come to talk to yours."

Harry should have asked more questions, but not being a Gryffindor anymore, he chose not to be brave. He didn't want -that is, he wasn't ready to think about marriage. He could barely picture what next year would be like, hell the next semester. He wasn't ready to make a lifelong commitment to anyone.

He liked Andromeda, maybe he was even beginning to love her. But he doubted that 'maybe' was enough to agree to what amounted to an arranged marriage.

Harry got up off the floor and began packing like he said he was going to earlier. He didn't see the look Andromeda and Ted exchanged.

Harry was so excited for the holiday. Last year it been great to have Sirius but there had been a lot going on at the time.

This world's Sirius had told his parents he would be staying at Hogwarts and had planned to sneak home with Harry and James under the invisibility cloak. But his parents had written back, demanding he come home, something Sirius assured them had never happened before.

Teenage Sirius was nearly depressed as Harry's godfather had been as they loaded onto the Hogwarts Express.

Harry let the Marauders be as they went down to near the end of the train. Harry stayed with Andromeda and Ted. Together they found a compartment with Kingsley Shacklebolt, Narcissa, and Regulus.

They began playing exploding snap after the Trolly Witch stopped by.

"Who knew Hufflepuffs could be such fun," Narcissa remarked, just as Ted won the round.

She glared at him with cold eyes and he smiled at her cheerfully, completely undaunted.

Kingsley chuckled.

The next round Regulus laid down and kicked them all to the curb.

"Ha!" he said as he collected the sweets they had been playing for.

The other three Slytherins stared at him.

"What?" he asked before biting into a chocolate frog.

"Nothing, Reggie," Narcissa said, "Just glad to hear you speak up."

"Ha?" he repeated.

"Do you feel that?" Harry asked.

The train had grown steadily colder and looking out the window they saw the cloudy day was growing steadily darker. It was still mid-day.

Harry didn't wait to see the dark cloaks. He pulled his wand and headed for the door. "We are under attack."

Kingsley was on his feet, "Regulus, Ted, you two stay here and lock the door. Blacks, Potter, go down the corridor and warn people to lock up, even if the lock holds off someone for a minute, that is is a minute closer to help.

Harry and Kingsley said in unison, "Expecto Patronum."

A stag went one way and a lynx went the other way.

"I'll get to the conductor. You three go down to the end. Go!"

Harry was already gone. Andromeda and Narcissa hot on his heels.

"Lock your doors, we are under attack, lock your doors, we are under attack," they repeated over and over again.

Three prefects joined them,

They got through four cars before the train stopped.

"We stopped over the bridge," Andromeda informed them as they ran down the halls.

The Dementors entered from one of the side doors.

Harry summoned his stage and chased it back.

"How do you do that charm?" Andromeda asked.

Harry showed her the exaggerated wand movement and said, "Happy thought. You need a memory so happy, so good, that when you remember it, it fills you up. Use that feeling to power the charm."

She looked at him for a long moment and pointed her wand toward the outer door where more Dementors were approaching.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Bright light exploded from her wand, chasing the Dementor back. The light didn't cease, wrapping around the train.

"A giant snake?" one of the Ravenclaw prefects said, "Isn't that a little on the nose, Slytherin?"

"A Basilisk?" Narcissa asked looking at the face of the Patronus as it peeked in on them.

"Keep going to the other cars," Harry instructed the three prefects. They ran past them as Harry, Narcissa, and Andromeda held the car that had the biggest gap between the cars.

He wanted to know where his parents were, they were either on Kingsley's side toward the front or in the last few cars. But a part of him knew that the closer to him wouldn't keep them safer. And this was only the first wave. The train was still stopped and they were far from safety.

As if his thoughts had summoned them, several pops and thuds were heard from above them. The figures who came through the door were human but just as cloaked and repulsive as the dementors.

Harry didn't wait for an invitation, he got the first one who came through the door, and the second went down screaming with something that Andromeda had struck him with.

It wasn't the Cruciatus curse, but he was glad not to be on the receiving end of it.

The next few were smarter, throwing curses before walking through the entrance. From that moment onwards, everything became very fast. Spells, curses, and Death Eaters apparating into the cars. Dueling in the hallway was difficult, to say the least, there was nowhere to dodge, and it was only Narcissa's talent in transfiguration that kept Harry and Andromeda from being dropped by one of the Unforgivables.

The three of them worked like they had been fighting together for years. Narcissa took over shielding for the Unforgivables, Harry shielded against everything else and threw the odd -yet well aimed- disarming spell or stunner, and Andromeda rained down pain and destruction.

Harry was pretty sure the one guy she had taken down would be blind for the rest of his life with possible brain damage. But then he was also pretty sure the person he had stunned had fallen to his death, from either impact, drowning, or possibly hypothermia.

One of the Death Eaters managed to cast an Imperius on him. He grinned at the person whispering on in his mind to stun Andromeda, and sent a stunner at badman's friend as Andromeda blasted the shocked Death Eater with something that threw him back so hard against the back wall there was a sickening crack when his head snapped back.

"How many are there?" Narcissa shouted, as they heard bangs toward the front of the train.

"Where's Tom?" Harry asked in turn.

"Focus!" Andromeda yelled at them both, taking down yet another masked figure.

Harry's silver Prongs was what first alerted them to trouble.

In the last compartment, they found themselves holding off a fount of intruders. James let Sirius take the lead, he was the strongest among them for a real fight. Even Remus had better shield charms than James did. So he watched their backs, transfiguring the glass windows of the compartments to steel plates, stray spells bounced harmlessly of them. The prefects that had come with a warning after the silver stag had broken up to settle the first years as well as the group of fourth years who thought they could help.

They couldn't.

This attack… there were no friendly duels here.

"I'm going to go secure the other compartments," James warned his friends.

"Go!" Remus yelled, not turning back.

Sirius sent someone flying outside the door they had come from.

James ran, transfiguring as fast as he could breathe. At the second car, he found Snape and Lily fighting a single masked figure. James transfigured the ground beneath him to a porcelain surface smoother and more slippery than ice. The figure fell, Lily got him with a nasty bat bogy spell, and Snape got him with something that made blood pool around him.

James might have complained in any other circumstance, but that person had been trying to hurt Lily. James rather thought the man deserved it.

"James!" Lily screamed, pointing her wand behind him, at the same moment someone apparated behind her. James and Snape stunned the one who pointed a wand at Lily, while Lily herself charged James. Body slamming him to the ground, green light exploded where they had just been.

Blood dripped from the would-be murderer and she fell to the ground screaming. Completely ruining what would have been the most romantic moment of James' life as Lily stared down at him, emerald eyes wide.

They both scrambled to their feet and James stepped on the wand, snapping it, of the witch who was bleeding out.

"That can't be all of them," Snape remarked as they looked for more enemies.

James started transfiguring glass windows into metal again.

Kingsley had not been pleased to find the conductor dead. And of the prefects that had joined him, only the other two Slytherins were still alive.

He couldn't quite figure out what the masked monsters had in mind, they didn't seem to be shy about killing students, but they weren't trying to break into the compartments to slaughter students either.

But that was before they watched the front of the train blow up as if someone had rigged the engine with a bomb.

Screams echoed around them, but Kingsley was too horrified to so much as a gasp. From the torn, smoking wall beyond his shield charm, he saw that the tracks ahead of them had been reduced to rouble.

The murders didn't need to go from compartment to compartment. If they blew the bridge then the entire Hogwarts Express would plunge into the abyss.

And whether the abyss was metaphorical or otherwise, they would all be dead. Kingsley grabbed Flint's shirt and shook him, "Apparate to Hogwarts, raise the alarm. Run, scream, get help."

Flint nodded and disapparated on the spot.

Kingsley should have thought of that before, but he had been lost to the adrenaline. Andromeda and a few of prefects were the only other people he could think of among the seventh years who hadn't just apparated from Hogsmeade.

And the other Slytherin prefect with him was only a fifth year.

Kingsley began trying to re-enforce the tracks ahead of him, knowing it was a lost cause. He had little hope that the other side of the train was being protected.

Voldemort did have to give them credit, he hadn't expected his Death Eaters to be met with deadly force.

But it was of no concern to him, there was only one person he needed alive off this hunk engineering.

That strange boy he had felt such a connection too. The furious one, the one he suspected of hunting down his Horcruxes.

The connection they shared was slippery, elusive in his mind. If he could just make eye contact, just touch him, he knew, knew, the secrets of the universe would be his.

He walked bemusedly down a corridor that had been cleverly plated with metal, replacing the glass that was as much a danger as when it broke as the curses that could break it.

Of course, steel wouldn't save them from a hundred meter drop.

He found his prey just beyond five of his Death Eaters, unconscious by the looks of it, though two looked awfully still, and McNair, yes, he was pretty sure that was McNair, had had his mask melted into his face.

Oh how he wished that the caster of that particular genius would join him. But this world needed to learn to fear him, and sacrifices must be made.

There were six students pointing wands at him, three witches and three wizards. One of the twins was the one he had glimpsed in the hall, the rest -well, he didn't need them for anything.

The greasy haired boy surprised him with a cutting curse that reflected off his shield. "Oh, my boy, you should have been one of mine."

In response, the onyx eyed boy stepped in front of the redhead. That was fine, Voldemort didn't have a particular order in mind to kill them.

He struck the pretty blonde through the middle with a piercing hex. The dark haired witch, who he now recognized as Bellatrix Black's sister, roared, throwing a killing curse at him with such ferocity he almost didn't have time to step to the side.

Almost.

He heard her say, "I'm sorry, Harry."

The Bellatrix's sister pulled the blonde into her arms and disapparated with a resounding pop.

"And then there were four," Voldemort sneered.

"Yeah, red eyes, you're outnumbered," one of the bespectacled twins boasted.

Voldemort rolled his eyes, "Gryffindor," he said dryly, "Legilimens."

He tore through the boy's mind in moments, images of running with a werewolf under the full moon on four legs, a privileged life, McGonagall's favorite, a brother, a half-brother, or was it cousin?, appearing from nowhere.

A bastard, a Hufflepuff, a muggle raised wizard with more secrets than sense. Constantly in the hospital wing. Constantly making his new family worry.

The boy, James Potter, dropped to the ground shaking and breathing harshly, his hazel gaze distant. Legilimens, done un-delicately could be more of halting agent than either a confundus or an imperius.

He turned his wand on the boy with a scar, "Harry Potter."

It had been a while since Harry had heard his name said in that way from this monster. And even with a nose and a head of hair, he found his name just as disturbing on those lips.

"Hey, Tommy," he said with false bravado. His scar felt as if it were going to sear a hole through his head. His mind reeled for a solution out of this.

His best hope was that their brother wands could cause some issues, but for some reason, Harry didn't think Voldemort was out to kill -for once. No, the look on his face was that of a cat who wanted to play with its food before it picked it apart.

This was Harry's worst nightmare, he was just thankful Andromeda had left, if only she could have taken the others with her too.

"Legili-"

"Protego!" Harry shouted, his spell cast with such force that it pushed Voldemort back a few steps.

He chuckled, "Crucio."

Harry didn't have time to dodge because Lily attempted to be noble. He caught her around the waist, curling his body around hers as he spun them, giving Voldemort his back. When the Crucio hit him, he didn't scream, he just held his mother tighter. Held her safe.

Snape cast a stream of spells and the torture curse dropped.

"Avada-aah!"

Harry looked over his shoulder to see that James had transfigured Voldemort's silver left hand -like the one the Wormtail of Harry's time had had, into a snapping turtle.

It took Tom all of five seconds to reverse it, by which time all four of them were tossing hexes at him, well, Snape was hitting him with real curses.

Harry had never been as fond of the Dark Arts as he had been this day.

Shallow cuts formed on Voldemort's fair skin and he went from interested to annoyed. Something Harry both felt and had barely enough time to shield against. A blast of wind, like a small twister, broke against his shield, Lily who was closest to him was only buffered by the wind, but James and Snape were thrown back into the still secured windows hard enough that they didn't get back up.

Harry was pretty sure they were still alive, pretty sure. His chest felt painfully tight. Lily grabbed his left hand and for the first time Harry realized she was left handed. They faced Voldemort hand and hand, wands raised.

And Harry decided right then that he would rather die than have this beautiful young woman die because of him, not again.

"Enough games. Come with me, Potter."

"Not happening."

"Come now, Hufflepuff. You're no match for me."

"And yet I'm still standing."

Voldemort sighed, "Imperio."

Again, Harry grinned, and shot back with a silent Expelliarmus. Letting go of Lily's hand, he caught the ivory wand and without thinking, snapped it in two.

Voldemort roared and came at him before he could get off another spell. Harry choked as cold metal crushed around his throat.

Lily, brave, wonderful Lily, seemed to forget she was a witch and jumped the Dark Lord from behind.

Voldemort screamed, and just like in Harry's first year, Voldemort's face melted like Quirrel's, but it was Lily's screams who echoed in the hall, not Harry's.

Voldemort grabbed her by her long fiery hair and flung her to the ground, delivering a brutal kick to the side of her face.

"No!" Harry roared, "Reducto!"

Voldemort used his silver hand to -absorb? the spell. So charm but not transfiguration proof?

Harry let out a fury of spells, everything that he had ever learned studying DADA, Voldemort accioed Snape's wand to his hand and was able to maintain a defense, but the wand didn't seem to be cooperating for offensive spells.

James seemed to come around, Harry heard him call out faintly, "Lily…"

Harry was surprised to find himself winning. The power the Dark Lord knows not. The power he didn't know he had either.

But Harry's luck was always shite.

James threw a spell that almost hit Harry, and when he dodged Voldemort managed to repel Harry out of the hole James had created where the exit door had just been.

For a breathless moment, time seemed to still. Harry was weightless, airborne, looking at the train and Voldemort turning on his parents. The moment didn't last and he plummeted toward the Earth, knowing that Death had finally called in her debt.

"Harry!" Lily shouted as she dragged herself to her feet.

She watched James fight with a desperate flurry of wand movements, she wasn't even sure he knew what he was casting or aiming. Blood trailed down the side of his face and he had one arm out to hold himself up against a compartment door.

"Accio Wand," Severus whispered from his knees, arm extended toward the madman.

His wand came to his call and he struck with that cutting spell that frightened her. But this evil curr had just killed one of her friends, he deserved to bleed.

And bleed he did.

"Rictusempra!" Lily roared, pressing every bit of power she had into the charm. The bleeding, battered wizard with red eyes jittered out the hole James had made.

There was a pop. signaling that he hadn't faced the same fate as Harry. They waited to see if he would re-appear, Sev turning to face down the opposite direction.

After a few moments when all was silent, the three of them ran (hobbled) to the hole Harry and Riddle had fallen out of.

For some reason, Lily couldn't comprehend that Harry was gone, she just couldn't believe it.

"Lils?" James asked slowly, staring down at the impossible drop to the rushing river below the bridge. "Did you just use a Tickling Charm on the Dark Lord trying to murder us."

She blushed, "It worked, didn't it?"

Severus let out an exasperated sigh, "We need a real DADA professor."

James fell to his knees, looking at the drop, "He can't be gone."

"Of course he isn't. A Dark Lord doesn't need a wand to apparate."

"He means Harry," Lily said gently, putting a hand on James' shoulder, "Have hope, James, the river runs deep here."

She had no idea why she was certain that Harry was okay. For that matter, she didn't know why the mere touch of her skin had made the Dark Lord's skin burn either.

"I can't lose him," James said numbly, "I was just- he's family now."

She knelt beside him, hugging him, the annoying prat, with tears in his eyes because he had just watched someone he loved almost die.

Lily hugged him tighter, realizing that her sense of 'okayness' might be shock and chances were high that Harry had died.

Something rocked the train, Severus grabbed them both, pulling them back from the hole.

They scrambled to get a hand hold as the train began tip sideways and the screaming started around them.

They might all be joining Harry soon.

Seeing a screaming Slytherin bellowing for help wasn't something the professors of Hogwarts saw much.

"The train! The train! They are attacking the train!" the seventh year, Basil Flint yelled as he slammed open the doors to the Great Hall.

"Where?" Minerva called, over the stir rippling through the remaining students eating lunch.

Albus wasn't sure Mr. Flint would understand what was being asked, but he did, "The river! The big river, they stopped the train above it."

Albus didn't wait to hear who 'they' was. He stood, holding a hand out to Minerva and Filius who took hold without question. Albus apparated them to the train. They landed on the unsteady tracks that Mr. Shacklebolt was attempting to repair.

Minerva immediately began repairing the tracks with him.

Albus was heartbroken to find three students dead and feared what they might find further in the train. Filius began enchanting the train to be feather light and floating as Albus began to run down the halls. The only other bodies he found were adults wearing masks.

He paused to help Mr. Potter, Ms. Evans, and Mr. Snape, sealing off the gaping hole in the wall, Filius ran past him, his wand moving in a blur he extended his enchantments down the halls.

"What happened?" he asked them.

"Tom Riddle," Ms. Evans spat.

Albus felt his heart sink, "Get into a compartment."

He didn't wait to see if they followed his instructions. The train was getting colder than the winter air warranted.

He summoned his Patronus.

Remus worried when Harry's silver stag suddenly disappeared.

But the fate of James' cousin and the threat of the circling dementors quickly disappeared when a familiar face climbed onboard the back of the train.

"Hello, kiddie, did you miss me?"

Remus went from defensive to offensive in a blink of an eye.

"Remus-" Sirius warned.

But he didn't listen, his sole focus was on the monster who had cursed him, cursed his life. Made it so that every time his father looked at him it was with regret and sorrow.

As if Remus hadn't been bitten, but killed, a ghost in his own home.

Fenrir Greyback, grinned at him toothily, and Remus didn't want him imprisoned, he wanted him dead.

Dead and gone, where he could never hurt anyone else, least of all another child.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" he bellowed, his wand slashing the air.

Greyback's eyes went blank, a smile still curled on his lips as he fell lifeless out of the train, off the bridge.

The remaining masked figures disapparated away.

"Wow, Moony, you scared them off," Sirius remarked, sounding stunned as he lowered his wand.

"If you could find a compartment, Mr. Lupin, Mr. Black."

They spun to see Albus Dumbledore standing behind them.

"Sir-" Remus stammered, but whatever he was going to say was lost as the train lurched sideways.

Remus and Sirius watched in awe as Dumbledore and Flitwick worked in tandem to levitate the entire train -or remained of it, off the bridge.

Said bridge began to make frightful noises and collapsed altogether. The sound of wood and metal crashing echoed through the valley.

The two fully fledged wizards carried the train safely to the tracks on the other side of the valley.

Sirius and Remus looked at each other, wondering what would happen now.

What happened when the battered and traumatized students arrived in London, was a riot nearly breaking out among the worried parents and guardians as they attempted to reclaim their children.

Remarkably only five students had died, but five families grieved, today had changed their lives forever. Three seventh years who could have gotten away had they not chosen to fight, and two brave fifth years, all prefects. They had boarded the train expecting to enjoy the holiday at home, and ended up dying in one of the first battles of a new war.

The conductor, two assistant conductors, the trolly lady, and two wizards who had been applying for the DADA position also perished -their deaths had been quick as the front engine car had exploded along with part of the bridge at the start of the attack.

Only one student was missing.

Search parties were launched, but Harry Potter was presumed dead.

AN: Pleeeeeeease review? I stayed up aaaaall night writing for you.

Chapter 17: Mirror Shards

Keynote: There are overlapping scenes, the Hogwarts Express was less than hour incident. After the point Andromeda disapparates to Euphemia in this chapter it is less than a half an hour.

BETA: Ahrnberg, consistently bringing the awesome back.

AN: You thought the cliff hanger was evil? I doubt this chapter will make you feel any better. My Dear readers, what you must understand, is it isn't Voldemort you should be worrying about; it's me. Mwahahahaha!

Chapter 17- Mirror Shards

"Where are my daughters?" Cygnus shouted above the crowd of shouting parents and crying children.

"James, Harry!" Euphemia echoed beside him.

"Uncle Cygnus!" Sirius shouted back, "They-"

"Where are they!? Where are my sisters!?" Bella screamed into Sirius' face, taking him by the front of the robes and shaking him.

"St. Mungo's," he answered, putting his hands on his cousin's shoulders, "Cissa was hurt."

Bellatrix disapparated so fast she took Sirius with her, Cygnus followed in the next breath.

"James, James!" Euphemia called wrapping her son in her arms. He hugged her back as she asked, "Harry? Where's Harry?"

"I don't know," James said, pulling back, "I don't know, I'm sorry, Mum. He fell into the river."

"Euphemia," Fleamont warned, "Euphemia, wait!"

But she had already pushed James into his father's arms and disapparated.

Lyall Lupin grabbed Fleamont's shoulder, "Don't you dare, we both know you can't keep up with her."

Fleamont hung his head, gripping his son's wrist, why can we never keep Harry safe?

"Father," Remus said softly.

"What?" Lyall asked turning to his own son, "What else has gone wrong?"

Remus' face was unreadable as he said tonelessly, "I killed Greyback."

"You did what?" James asked.

Lyall stared at his son as if he had never seen him before.

The chaos circled around them, not Dumbledore nor McGonagall could bring people to attention.

Lily's face was swelling and her father was crying. Mrs. Evans took charge, getting both her daughters as well as Severus into their car to go back home.

"You melted his skin," Severus said in a low voice, "I saw that, how did you manage it?"

"I don't know," she whispered, "But when I saw him attack Harry… it was like I lost my mind. I should have tried stunning the Dark Lord, I had my wand, but… but…"

"You love him," Sev said so softly she barely heard. "Harry, I mean, not the Dark Lord, obviously."

"Sev, I-"

"I know you do. Not like Black does, but you love him as if he were your little brother or something."

Lily put her hand on his where it rested on the seat between them, "What if he isn't okay?"

Severus turned his hand over and gave a comforting squeeze. He looked into her face, half swollen and discolored and he still thought she was beautiful, "You are Lily Evans. Whatever happens, you will be okay."

They didn't say anything else for the rest of the trip to the Muggle Hospital.

Lily, did in fact, have a concussion, and Severus had a sizable lump on the back of his head.

Hitting the water had not been pleasant, his limbs had felt like ice, and in seconds he had been swimming with the current unable to feel anything but the chill air in his lungs.

Miraculously, he had missed all the rocks in his fall, which once in the river, he had then been slammed against. Perhaps most miraculously, at least in Harry's mind, his glasses stayed on, though they were so wet he still couldn't see through them.

He had then crashed into a fallen log covered in a block of ice. Pulling himself onto it had been an act of will power that he didn't know he had in him.

By the time he got onto the shore, he realized he didn't have his wand. He tried accioing it to himself, but his mind was too scattered, his hands were shaking, hell, he couldn't really feel his hands, just a sharp pain along his limbs. He stripped out of his outer robes and began running along the river bank. He chose to follow down the side of the river as there was no way he could climb in his condition, and if someone went looking they would go to the river first.

Harry saw several bodies (dark blurs through water droplets) in the river, and when the bridge collapsed he felt it shake the earth, the sound was like being beneath a thunderclap. A rumbling sound that stilled his heart. He had looked back, shakily wiping his glasses with his wet sleeve. The train floated, suspended above the valley.

Help had arrived.

As if on cue, a pop announced someone behind him, he spun and several more pops surrounded him.

"Yaxley," Voldemort said coldly, the burn marks on the side of his face healing as Harry watched defenseless and freezing.

The Death Eater beside Voldemort handed over his wand, "Crucio."

Harry fell to the ground and suddenly, he missed the sensation of frostbite. But the pain didn't last long, he didn't have enough in him to stay conscious through the cold and physical trauma.

"Harry! Harry!" Euphemia called as she ran along the river bank. The fallen bridge had damned the river, and she found several bodies floating in the slowly moving water. She was relieved that none of those bodies belonged to children.

She was depressed to see Tilly, the Trolly Witch, among them, less depressed to see Fenrir Greyback belly up, dead eyes gazing at the grey sky.

She found a cloak with a Hufflepuff crest and knew that at least Harry had gotten out of the river alive.

"Harry! Harry! Where are you!? Please, my son! Harry!"

No one responded and further down the river she discovered why. In the snow, she saw that several footprints had appeared around his.

He was gone, captured by the Dark Lord.

Her breath fogged the air and she shot red sparks into the sky, praying that it wasn't too late to find him.

"Accio Harry's wand," she whispered, thinking, correctly, that he might have lost it in the fall. His Holly Wand came to her hand, feeling warm and alive against her chilled skin.

The Aurors came, only to inform her that they couldn't track them. They collected the bodies from the river, and Euphemia went home to her husband and son without hope that she would ever see the boy who not so long ago she had welcomed into her heart.

Among the shitty Christmases Harry had ever had, a prison cell in the basement of Riddle Manor took the cake.

It hadn't taken Voldemort two hours to strip his mind of every secret he had gone to such pains to keep secret.

Now the Dark Lord knew, knew about the future, knew about who had destroyed his Horcruxes -and yes, Harry had been punished for that, not to the point of insanity, but to the point where the few Death Eaters who remained had to force feed him because he had given up on being rescued.

Voldemort knew everything, and he had confirmed that his scar was one of his Horcruxes, his last Horcrux. He had told Harry that he would be turned to stone and dropped in the middle of the ocean where nobody would ever find him.

But, apparently, there were a lot of spells that could turn a person into stone, and Voldemort had decided he wanted one that kept Harry alive, aware, permanently entombed in stone.

So Harry sat in his cell, and waited for hell. Defeated.

"Merry Christmas, Nagini," he hissed as the serpent slunk curiously by his cage.

She froze, reptile that she was, there was no movement to her, none. Slowly she turned her head to face him, "You're a Parselmouth, too?"

"Yep, I'm the weirdest Hufflepuff you'll ever meet."

She flicked her fork tongue at him, tasting him on the air.

"Eat anyone tasty lately?"

She hissed angrily, "I don't eat people, Speaker."

"Not yet," he hissed back, closing his eyes and resting his head on his knees.

Worst holiday ever.

"Honestly, Dumbledore," Newt said, taking a seat across from the man, "The boy's dead."

"I have reason to believe he isn't."

"Well?"

Dumbledore merely smiled at him.

Newt rolled his eyes, rubbing his nose. In his mid-seventies, he was finally starting to grey, his curly hair striped with strands of white and silver. His freckles had only multiplied over the years, and he was no happier to be called in to help Albus Dumbledore than he had been before.

"Alright, don't share. But why is this boy so important?" he pried.

Tina was far happier to be called in, Auror that she was, she was enthralled with the mystery before them. She, unlike Newt, didn't appear to have aged hardly at all. She was a mature woman who could have been anywhere between her late thirties to early fifties, but certainly not seventies.

"Why would a boy be of any interest to a dark lord?" she repeated his question.

Frustratingly, Dumbledore answered her. "Riddle murdered his mother, and possibly his father as well. The boy took it upon himself to get back at him. He succeeded." He reached behind him and pulled out a box, filled with damage Founder objects.

"Is that a Basilisk fang?" Newt asked, his interest finally perked, "Where did he find one of those? It looks fresh. But that would be impossible, no one has seen… Salazar's Monster?"

"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed, "I believe our young Mr. Potter discovered the Chamber of Secrets. He used the fang to kill the objects Tom Riddle used to anchor his soul to the world of the living."

Newt blinked at him, "Like a Horcrux?"

Tina made a disgusted sound, "No one would be so stupid as to make one of those."

She had come across the theory of them in her Defense Studies, and Newt had discovered a brief description of them in his Monster Studies -Monster being something perverse born from a dark imagination of a wizard not born from the magical realm of Magical Creature linages.

"Not one, my dear, five."

"Five?" Newt asked leaning back in his seat, "Riddle spliced his soul five times? Willingly?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"Monster," Tina spat. "But this doesn't explain how the boy knew about these objects, much less how he got to them or -as you have implied, killed a Basilisk."

"I'm afraid when it comes to Mr. Potter there are more questions than answers. His girlfriend says she knows nothing, and he wasn't close enough to anyone else in the last few months he has been with us. No one seems to have unraveled his past."

"Wait, months?" Newt asked, "Are you telling me this boy accomplished all this, and was able to integrate into the sixth year class without ever having formal training before? You did say he was muggle raised."

Dumbledore smiled.

Tina and Newt exchanged a look, and she asked, "Is he even a Potter? Do you really believe he is who he says he is?"

"That," the Headmaster, "Is what I need you to discover. We need answers, and above all, we need to find him. I know for a fact that he is a Potter, and he has family who misses him dearly."

"Well then," Tina said standing, "Let's go speak with the Potters. They may know more than they think they do."

"One more thing," Dumbledore said, "Newt, this boy was a great admirer of yours. Possible the only person to have read through your extended book with such enthusiasm, more than once in fact. He gets himself hurt a lot. He was attacked this summer by wild kelpies, and still, rarely have I seen a student so kind toward Magical Creatures. Whatever his secrets, Harry Potter is of value to our world."

Newt thought of all the hatred and misunderstandings there were for magical creatures, then thought of a young Hufflepuff who had been attacked by kelpies and faced off with a Basilisk, then still had a passion for the subject.

Yes, Mr. Potter, was certainly an interesting wizard to be sure. Here was hoping, he was still alive to be saved.

Euphemia Potter was an imposing figure, and reminded Newt greatly of her cousin, McGonagall. Same raven hair and don't-you-screw-with-me demeanor.

"This is indeed one of my wands," Ollivander said, sounding scandalized, "But I never sold it. It is a brother wand of Mr. Riddle's-"

"Brother wand?" Tina asked sharply, "What does that mean?"

"The phoenix that gave me his feathers, only gave me two. One for the Yew Wand, one for this Holly Wand."

"Yew," she murmured, flipping through her notebook, "They found a broken Yew Wand on the train."

"I would say it was a pity, but knowing what that wand has done…" Ollivander trailed off. "Wait here a moment."

He disappeared behind the stacks and they heard him moving boxes in the far back. He emerged with an old box that hadn't looked like it had been touched since the day it was shut.

When he opened box, broken mirror shards lay where the wand should have been. Ollivander laid one long finger gently against the biggest shard, and they shattered further, disappearing entirely.

They looked at the Holly Wand that lay inertly on the desk.

"Peculiar," Ollivander remarked, "Most peculiar."

The Blacks were finally having a family dinner. Narcissa had spent nearly all of the winter break in the hospital. She would heal, but she still had to wear bandages and would have to report to Madame Pomfrey once they returned to school each day to get the wound redressed.

Had Andromeda waited even five minutes longer, her sister would have perished. It was some comfort as the days tick by and Harry was no closer to being found.

Orion tapped his glass, "Tonight we celebrate, Bellatrix and Andromeda will leave us to join Lestranges in a year's time."

Andromeda glared up at her Uncle, "The Lestrange brothers work for the Dark Lord. I know this family doesn't have morals, but neither Bella nor I are going to wed boys who will be either in prison or dead in a year's time."

The table went silent.

Sirius chuckled, and he ducked as his mother lashed out at him.

"Fine," Orion said, "But you have to be engaged soon, young wizards don'-"

Andromeda stood, "We don't have to be anything. We are daughters, not slaves. Our laws don't force us to marry no matter what the old ways say."

"And we don't have to put a roof above your head or feed you," her uncle said back coldly.

"You think we need you?" she asked caustically, "You think we need your money and your 'parenting' to survive? We would be better off without you. We would be better off without all of you!"

Bellatrix, Narcissa, Sirius, and Regulus stared dumbfounded at her.

"Druella!" Grandfather Pollux scolded, "Control your child."

Druella looked at her second daughter with such loathing that there was nothing but a promise of pain once they were alone. Andromeda would come to regret her lapse in decorum.

"Now, everyone," Uncle Alphard began peaceably, "Why don't we all calm down-"

"Shut up, brother," Walburga said with venom. "Little Andromeda needs to learn that once her brief bloom of youth and beauty pass, she will be worth nothing."

Later, Andromeda wouldn't be able to explain her actions. She had just finally had enough, finally snapped at the ridiculousness, the pettiness, the cruelty of her family.

Her spell hit her dearest Auntie square in the face, boils filled with puss and blood blossomed on her face. She fell out of her seat wailing.

In moments, Sirius was out of his own seat, wand in hand, and he pulled his little brother out of his chair and pushed him out of harm's way as all hell broke loose.

Bellatrix disapparated with Narcissa to the third floor where they had their traveling trunks.

Sirius and Andromeda went shoulder to shoulder as Orion, Druella, and Pollux began firing curses. Orion attacked because that's what one did when someone attacked your wife. Druella fought because of the perceived dishonor her daughter had brought her. And Pollux? Pollux attacked because he enjoyed causing pain and any excuse would do.

Walburga recovered and struck with spells that were powerful enough and dark enough that though they might not have been Unforgivables they could still kill someone.

"Reggie!" Sirius yelled, "Go to your room! Get out of here!"

Regulus stood frozen behind his brother and cousin, wide-eyed as he watched his family split down the middle.

Sirius flung aside his mother's curse that nearly hit his brother, in the process leaving himself open to one of Pollux's curses. A dark wraith like shadow shooting towards him shaped like a raven.

Alphard threw himself in front of his nephew. Being poor of health to begin with, he was dead before he hit the ground.

"No!" Sirius cried, his returning spells were just as vicious as Andromeda's were.

Regulus shook himself, and with tears in his eyes, he sprinted up the stairs. He unceremoniously shoved his belongings into his trunk. He shrunk it, pocketed it, then ran to his brother's room to do the same. He emerged from his brother's garish room with newfound determination.

For years, he hated his brother, hated him for not behaving, for making Mother mad all the time. But tonight he saw the truth. Their Mother was mad. Their entire family was mad and twisted, and the Dark Arts weren't toys to be used without a cost.

And there was always a cost.

Uncle Alphard had proved that.

Cissa and Bella were in the hall with their winter cloaks on. Cissa was pale -paler than she normally was, her breath coming in small gasps.

"We have to get out of here," he told them.

"We aren't leaving without Dromeda," Cissa snapped.

Bella looked lost, torn between wanting to join in the chaos and to protect her injured sister.

"Siri and Dromeda are only staying because we're here, if we leave they will follow," he told them desperately, "Grandfather killed Uncle Alphard."

The two sisters exchanged looks then together they made their way down the stairs. They might have disapparated away, Bella was certainly capable of taking two people, but Cissa was in no shape for another magical transport. If her wound broke open again none of them were equipped to help her.

"We're leaving!" Regulus announced toward the dining room as they exited through the front door.

Andromeda and Sirius gave each side line looks. Sirius pointed his wand at the chandelier and Andromeda pointed her wand toward the kitchen.

The chandelier came down in a barrage of broken crystals and flying candles, the heavy metal cracking the wooden table.

Andromeda's spell was like a bomb, turning the kitchen into an inferno.

They didn't wait for anyone to recover, sprinting to the front door, throwing a few more fire curses into the entrance room as the door slammed shut.

Cygnus Black took a sip from his glass of wine, leaning back in his chair that he had never left.

"Druella, dear," he said calmly into the room. He didn't look at her, instead, he watched the flames crackling in the kitchen as if he were sitting beside a pleasant bonfire on a breezy summer night. "I would like a divorce."

Andromeda and Sirius caught up to their siblings easily. The London streets were dark and it was late enough that not many people were on the road.

"Did anyone else die?" Reggie asked as Sirius took up helping Narcissa walk.

She leaned on him heavily, and he took nearly all her weight without complaint. "I wish," he said bitterly.

"Where do we go?" Narcissa asked weakly, if she didn't rest soon they might have to take her back to St. Mungo's.

Sirius pointed his wand to the sky, and moments later the Night Bus arrived with a shrieking of breaks.

"Potter Manor," he told the attendant.

"No," Bella spoke up, "No, take us to Malfoy Manor."

Sirius turned to her with a disgusted expression, "Malfoy? Why in Merlin's name would we go there?"

"Malfoy Manor," Andromeda repeated, "Siri, get on the damn bus."

They got on and Bella paid the man, but Sirius didn't stop arguing, "I thought you despised Malfoy."

"I don't despise him, he and Nott were my friends at Hogwarts."

"No," Sirius said, "They were your ladies in waiting. They were both -rightly, terrified of you and in turn, you called them spineless bunnies."

She sniffed, "They were good enough to remain in my company. Besides, Lucius is too much the gentlemen to turn us away."

"The Potters would be kind enough to take us."

"The Potters have been through enough," Andromeda told him firmly. "They don't need us showing up on their doorstep and they certainly don't deserve our mothers accosting them."

Sirius couldn't argue that. The look on Euphemia's face when James had told her Harry was missing still haunted his nightmares.

"Do you think they will call the Aurors?" Regulus asked in a whisper. "Uncle Alphard is dead, there has to be an investigation, right?"

The other four Blacks exchanged looks, and Sirius put a hand on his brother's back, "Reggie, there isn't going to be an investigation. Uncle Alphard was sick."

Regulus stared at his brother in confusion, his brother who loved Uncle Alfey more than any of them, "But we saw grandfather-"

Sirius shook his head, "The case would be dismissed before it reached the courts."

He blinked, not understanding this reaction, his brother who railed against every tradition was calm, at ease, with Pollux murdering their uncle. "But we were there, we saw-"

"We're children, Reggie," Cissa said, "No one will ever listen to us."

"Bella isn't!" he protested.

Bella looked away, knowing all too well what the world thought of her.

The driver sped up then slammed on the breaks.

Narcissa whimpered as her body jolted. Sirius wrapped his arms around her, and Bella went up to the driver. She jabbed her wand into the side of his neck and spoke softly into his ear.

The rest of the way to Malfoy Manor was much slower, but remarkably more pleasant, even as others complained about their stops being missed.

The Blacks glared at anyone fool enough to speak up. The five of them were, after all, as dangerous and deadly as their threat.

AN: Questions, expletives, theories, musings, reactions, thoughts, or remarks? Please? Pretty Please? Many thanks for the massive support for the last chapter :D

Chapter 18: Alohomora

AN: You all are cute, but remember what Harry knows and doesn't know before the end of the fifth book; remember Harry didn't know about the prophecy -hence the urgency to kill Harry isn't there. Also yes, in the last chapter I did skip of a lot worry, sadness, and anger. But things like Remus avenging himself will be addressed in later chapters, sorry but you can't have everyone's responses all the time all at once. This doesn't mean I'm not keeping track or won't have there be fall outs.

WARNING: I swear I didn't plan to write this, but my muse is a sadistic angel.

SPOILERS: Watch the Fantastic Beasts movies, or don't, but if you complain, I'll just repeat what I've said before, go read something where the author gets paid.

IDENTITY: Someone messaged me about a bad review I had written -I didn't. I don't write bad reviews because I don't read bad fanfiction -ain't nobody got time for that. Honestly, I hardly read fanfiction anymore at all. So if someone is reviewing with my username, be sure it is really me and not some random guest being a poop or someone with a variation on my username.

BETA: Ahrnberg, the Great Friend.

Chapter 18 - Alohomora

Betrayed. They were betrayed.

""Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!""

She held her baby to her chest, and ran up the steps, slamming the door behind her. Among her many fine skills, fighting dark wizards wasn't one of them.

She let out a sob when she heard James' body drop.

The sound of Voldemort's footsteps up the stairs brought her pulse to her throat. She kissed her son's temple. "I love you," she told him, before placing him in his crib.

She stood in front of him and began whispering the Latin she had memorized from an old book she had stolen from Severus when they had still been friends, that seemed so long ago now.

"Oh, Miss Lily," a sibilant voice called out to her coaxingly. The monster who had murdered her husband, who wanted to kill her son.

She chanted faster, the last syllable slipped from her lips as the door opened.

A man with red eyes stared at her in bemused excitement.

"Step aside, girl."

Was he kidding?

"Please," she begged, "please, he's just a babe, please. You don't have to do this." Lily didn't draw her wand, she couldn't, not with the archaic magic she had invoked. The air was thick with it and she worried the monster before her might notice.

Her son grabbed the back of her dress in a tight fist, "Mama?" His voice was so soft. So plaintive, as if he knew, knew this was goodbye.

The tears started anew, and she backed up against the crib, holding onto it with both hands to keep herself upright. "Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"

Not my son! James was already dead, and she would be joining him soon, but if she could just keep Harry safe her life would not be wasted.

"Stand aside, you silly girl. You needed die tonight. Stand aside, now-"

"Not Harry!" she screamed at him, "Please no, take me, kill me instead-" She choked on a sob.

The figure sighed, his face a mask of remorse as he raised his wand at her, but she saw the beast in his eyes. Demon eyes stared at her, and she knew he would enjoy her death, and that he would enjoy killing Harry as well.

But he had to have been human once, didn't he?

"Not Harry! Please-"

"Mama?" Harry called, his voice pitched. He was scared and she knew he would cry for her when she was gone.

It broke her. Even if he survived this night, he would remember this pain. She would miss his life, she would never be able to tuck him into bed again, never be able to tell him a story, never tell him how very much she loved him.

"Have mercy," she sobbed, "Please, have mercy."

He laughed at her, and green light filled her vision.

It hurt, it tore her in two. Her heart was with her son, but she could not stay.

She died.

Lily woke in her bed screaming. Her parents rushed into her room moments later. Her father held her close, and her mother rubbed her back.

But she couldn't stop screaming, tears came unbidden to her eyes.

Petunia watched her worriedly from the doorway.

She couldn't stop screaming, wordless and horrified she knew the truth. She didn't know how, and she didn't know why.

But she learned that night that Harry Potter was her son, and she was no better able to help him now than she had been able to in her nightmare.

James woke with a choked scream.

His parents rushed into the room moments later.

"James?" his mother asked, as he blinked back tears.

The dream was fading from his mind quickly, but the sharp twist in his heart only grew sharper.

He had died so quickly.

"James?" his father asked, "Are you alright?"

He swallowed hard, "Yeah," he lied, "it was just a bad dream."

His mother wrapped him in a hug, he hugged her back, burying his face in her shoulder. "We will find him. We will bring him back home."

James closed his eyes and breathed in the comforting smell of his mother's amber perfume.

Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!

His shoulders began to shake, but he didn't let himself cry, no. It was just a nightmare, after all, just a nightmare of green light and broken dreams.

Harry woke from his nightmare with a groan. Not even in his sleep was he free from him.

He rolled over onto his side on the old blanket had 'kindly' given him. His cell was cold, the stone floor unforgiving against the wounds and bruises on his person, and the stupid thing was so small, a freaking box, he couldn't even stand up in it.

He wasn't sure, exactly, how much time had passed since he had been brought here, but he did know it was going on weeks and not days now. Each day, Voldemort paid him a visit, and each day he promised he was that much closer to finding the perfect curse to petrify him with.

He wondered how much worse life could be at the bottom of the ocean.

Scratch that, if his life had taught him anything, everything could get worse, he didn't want to be encased in stone and never breath air again, never feel the wind on his face, never…

Merlin, but he wanted to live, he didn't want to die, and how it grated that Voldemort would be the one to get him. His whole life had been a waste, everyone who had ever sacrificed themselves for him, wasted.

His only consolation was that Lily, James, and Andromeda were alive. At least, as far as he knew, they were alive.

"Speaker," Nagini called to him.

He groaned. "Leave me alone, I've had enough visitors today," he said in English, not giving her the courtesy of speaking to her in her own tongue.

"I have a proposition for you," she hissed in a low tone.

He sighed, "Unless you want to get me out of here, then I don't want to hear it."

"That is what I've come to offer."

He rolled to face the bars of his cage, "What? You would betray him for me?"

She flicked her tongue at him, "I was human once, and he was the first person in fifty years who could hear me, until you. Let me come with you, let me stay with you as your familiar."

"I have a familiar," Harry snapped-hissed, "Her name is Hedwig."

Nagini just stared at him with unblinking reptilian eyes.

He sighed, "But I always have room for more friends."

With the end of her tail, she flicked a pair of skeleton keys at him. With grimy hands, he hurriedly reached around the metal bars and undid the lock.

He crawled out and paused to let Nagini wind around him, which was an act of trust all on its own.

"Go left," she hissed in his ear.

He went left and took the stairs, he paused at the first flight.

"Keep going."

He was too exhausted to argue.

"First bedroom on the right."

The room was empty, the bed made, dust settled on every surface.

"Window."

"We are on the second floor," he hissed.

"Afraid of heights?" she taunted.

He cursed silently as he went to the window and muscled it open. He would have liked to say he climbed out the window, but he wasn't half so graceful.

The deep snow was the only thing that saved him from breaking his collarbone. He fumbled with his glasses, blowing the snow off them before placing them back on his face.

"Don't run," his snake friend warned him, "Walk behind the shed, go straight, there is an animal track just beyond the line of trees."

He did as instructed. His bare feet going numb in the snow, he didn't care, nor did he care about the chill setting into his bones. He just wanted to be free.

It was a long trek was made longer by his weakened state, the fifty kilogram snake wrapped around him, and his fear that magnified each passing moment, every sound in the quiet winter wood.

Eventually, he made it to the village, and he didn't know what day it was but everyone seemed to be tucked away in their houses, no one on the street to see a half starved, half beaten, snake totting, barefoot boy nearly collapse against the side of a car.

Being cold was starting to be a problem. His jaw was chittering so hard he was afraid he might bite off his own tongue. He knew his lips must be blue.

He tried the handle of the car.

Locked.

He held his right hand out to it and breathed, "Alohomora."

To his relief, the locks shot up for each door. He yanked the door open and slid onto the bench seat. Nagini glided off him and said helpfully, "We must go."

"No shit."

He leaned over her, checking the glove department for a spare set of keys.

No such luck.

He was beginning to panic, Voldemort could discover his absence at any moment and he needed to get back to the wizarding world. It wasn't like the muggle police would be much help.

Voldemort would just cut through them like shrubbery.

Harry glared at the ignition and then he was struck with an idea.

It was just another type of lock, wasn't it?

He put his right hand to it and said again, "Alohomora."

To his delight, the engine revved. He had seen Uncle Vernon drive often enough, and if Ron could manage it in their second year he figured driving couldn't be that hard.

It wasn't.

Though the gas pedal felt strange against his bare toes. Once the town was out of sight, he blasted the heat.

Nagini and he sighed in delight at the blessed warmth that came from the vents.

Harry had no idea where he was going, but eventually, he saw a snow covered sign that proclaimed This way to London.

He drove through town after town, careful to mind the speed limit, but never stopping. He prayed he wouldn't get pulled over. There was no easy way to explain his condition -or the snake, to a muggle police officer.

Of course, he might have been able to push himself forward, but the car had other ideas. It sputtered, lurched, then rolled to a stopped. Even the heater turned off. Harry looked down at the dash and saw that he had run out fuel.

He moaned and dropped his head to the top of the steering wheel. He didn't have the strength to get out of the car and find another car to steal.

Not that it mattered, Harry didn't know where he was, he doubted Voldemort could find him even if he could rip into his mind at a distance.

Which, he really hoped he hadn't figured out how to do yet.

Harry let his eyes shut. He would just take a quick nap. Yes, sleep sounded good, and the bench seat was so comfortable, even with the seat belt.

Nagini was hissing at him, but he didn't listen. He didn't care, even if he died here.

At least he was free.

Andromeda was depressed, days had turned into weeks, they would be going back to Hogwarts soon and she couldn't face it. Should couldn't go back to that school, not knowing that Harry was out there someone.

Her only sense of enjoyment came from watching Lucius Malfoy trip over himself to accommodate Cissa's every whim.

It was clear he was enamored by her, helplessly in love with her more like. He had probably had a crush on her all throughout their school years, but being Bella's friend he had known to keep his distance.

But things were different now, they were here as Malfoy's guests, and the rules said no torturing the hosts. Not that that would have stopped them had Lucius tried to hurt Cissa, but they couldn't beat him to a pulp for treating her like a queen, a goddess.

Bella flopped down on her bed, "I can't stand him."

"I thought he was your friend," Andromeda said drily.

"Yes, but he isn't good enough for her."

Andromeda sighed, she didn't think so either, but she saw that Narcissa's heart was beginning to melt for the tall blonde. And it wasn't like she couldn't see the appeal. Lucius was every bit he Slytherin Lord, and his long hair, grey eyes, sharp features were the things of nearly every girl's wet dreams. That he was arrogant, mean-spirited, and self serving git was redeemed only by the fact that he seemed to lay his pride, and everything that he was, at Narcissa's feet without demand.

It was clear that he cared enough about her, that if she chose to kick him to the side, he would not think less of her.

So if Cissa wanted him, they would allow it, and if Lucius ever stepped out of line they would skin him alive.

Bella rolled, swinging her arm around her waist, resting her cheek against the mound of her chest. "You miss him," she said.

Andromeda said nothing. Harry. She couldn't think of him, she could think of nothing but him.

She couldn't regret saving Narcissa's life, had she gotten to St. Mungo's any later it would have been too late.

But her Harry was gone, And her mind twirled over him, over every scrap of information she had ever given him.

Away from him, from his warmth, his laugh, his sweet kisses, she saw all the lies he had fed her.

Well, not lies, exactly, but big gaping holes in his story of being muggle raised.

First time I did this was with a sword…

How many times could someone kill a Basilisk? She frowned up the ceiling, How often does someone kill the same Basilisk?

How did Harry know about the Basilisk? How did he integrate into Hogwarts so well? He didn't act like a muggle-born. There was only so much on could learn from books.

How often does someone kill the same Basilisk?

You can only kill someone once. Unless…

Andromeda went very still.

Bella looked up at her, "Drom?"

She hugged her sister tight.

Bella hugged her back and asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she replied, "well nothing more, anyway. I just realized something obvious."

My boyfriend is a time traveler.

Tapping on window brought Harry back to consciousness. Lifting his head from the awkward angle he left it at, he looked up and found Snape staring down out him with consternation and concern.

Harry rolled down the window.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Alohomora," Harry greeted, then realized he hadn't answered the question, "Ran out of gas." He was cold, he felt sluggish, and empty as if his insides had been hollowed out.

Snape reached into the car and pulled up the lock. He opened the door and flinched when he saw Nagini half curled up on his lap.

"It's okay," Harry told him, "She doesn't eat people, not yet."

"Don't say it like that you imbecile," she hissed.

"Get out," Snape ordered.

Harry smiled up at him, "You keep saving my life, even though we hate each other."

"I don't hate you," he said, "I hate your cousin. As far as I'm concerned you should have been the legitimate one. Now get out of the car we need to get you inside."

"Warmth," Nagini sighed.

Harry fumbled with the seat belt, but Snape ended up needing to help him, and he ended up having to pull Harry out of the driver's seat too.

"You're not wearing shoes," he observed.

"Nope," Harry said cheerfully as leaned against his would-be potions professors. "Where are we going?"

"Lily's, she lives around the corner. What's with the snake?"

"Her name is Nagini, she's my new friend."

"You sound high," she quipped.

"I feel high," he answered, "I can't feel anything below my knees. I'm floating."

"Are you talking to her?" Snape asked, "You're a Parselmouth?"

Harry rested his head on Snape's shoulder, "Yep, only cool thing I got from the Killing Curse. I hate the scar. 'Oh look it's Harry Potter!' 'Blimey, you're Harry Potter.' Like I don't know who I am. I mean I didn't. But that's beside the point. I learned my first year who Harry Potter was, and the squirrel almost killed me for it. But I killed Squirrel. So really, it all worked out in the end. But not for Cedric. Snape? Is Cedric a baby yet?"

"Did you get hit in the head?" Snape asked.

Harry thought about that, "Not really. I got slapped a lot. Couple backhands, but he preferred body shots. Which was considerate, I suppose, of him. I don't want anymore scars on my face."

"Just hang on, Potter, we are almost there."

As they walked, Snape half carrying him and Nagini, who had wrapped herself around Harry's torso and shoulders, he got more tired. The brief acceleration of feeling nothing, left as his core warmed enough to feel the cold and the pain in his body. The sidewalk was rough against his feet, and it felt as if there were no skin between in bones the patches of ice.

If they didn't get to where they were going, he was going to throw up, black spots were eating around the edges of his vision.

The house they arrived at was small and Harry had just a moment to realize that this would be the first time he would meet his maternal grandparents.

When Mr. Evans opened the door he wondered the image he must have made. A bloody, beaten, shoeless, unbathed boy, with a giant snake wrapped around him, held up by another -far healthier looking, teenager boy. This so wasn't how Harry would have chosen to meet more of his family.

"Rose!" he yelled over his shoulder. He didn't hesitate for a moment in reaching out for Harry. He felt like a child being passed between adults because as Snape stepped away from him had Mr. Evans not caught him, he would have fallen in a heap on the ground with Nagini.

Mr. Evans was a big man, very tall with broad shoulders, he looked like Nordic Viking with short blonde hair, he held up Harry as if he weighed nothing. Mrs. Evans had crimson red hair and sea-green eyes, accented by an abundance of freckles.

Jeez, James thought Lily was pretty, her mother could have been a model. How in the world did these two beautiful people make Petunia? Harry wondered as Snape explained who he was.

Snape finished by saying, "I'm going to run home, my mother has an owl. I'll write to his parents. It might be a few hours till they get the letter though."

"We will take care of him," Mr. Evans said, his voice rumbling through Harry's side.

"Harry!" Lily exclaimed from the top of the steps.

"Lily, go get the first aid kit, then go help your mother," her father instructed.

Lily looked at Harry worriedly but did as instructed.

Mr. Evans got him into a bathroom just big enough for them both to fit. Nagini slid off him and curled herself into the corner.

"My name is Eirick Evans, I'm Lily's father. She's been worried about you."

"I'm sorry," he apologized looking away from the gentle concern in his eyes. Harry had put them all in danger. Voldemort had been after him, the other students, including his mother, had just been cultural damage.

He hunched his shoulders at the thought, this was all his fault.

"Don't apologize, my son, you have nothing in the world to be sorry for."

But I do. Harry shut his eyes against the stupid urge to cry.

"Can you take off your shirt for me? I need to see where the blood came from."

Harry tried, he really did, but his fingers were steady enough to get the buttons to work. His sense of shame deepened as his grandfather stilled his hand and took over.

Never in his life could he remember someone doing this for him. When he had been very young, Aunt Petunia had always been so rough that he had quickly learned to put his own clothes and shoes on. Nowhere in his memory could he remember parents taking care of him. Of course, he had been helped before, he had spent enough not in hospital wings, but he had never been conscious.

It was embarrassing that at sixteen, the first time he meets his maternal grandfather, the man has to help him undress.

Mr. Evans began talking to him, his voice was calming, "You have been missing for nearly four weeks. Hogwarts delayed the start of the new semester."

Harry had nothing to say to this.

"Five students died, all prefects. Lily, Mr. Lupin, and Mr. Shacklebolt are all alright though."

Harry was glad, and knowing that Narcissa wasn't a prefect meant all the people he cared most about were alive.

Merlin, he was so tired.

"These are all scabbed over. I don't see any infections. Let's get you into the shower then we will get some antibiotics and bandages on them, alright?"

Harry flushed as he looked at the shower a few steps away. He wasn't sure he could stand much less-

"Mr. Potter," Mr. Evans said firmly, though not unkindly. "Look at me."

Reluctantly, Harry met his grandfather's gaze, "I am going to help you, and you will be no less a man for accepting that help. There are very few people who could have lived through what you have, much less gotten away. You are safe in this home. Let me help, otherwise, I'm taking you to a hospital."

Harry shook his head, he did not want to go to a hospital, much less a muggle hospital. He didn't want anyone to ask him questions. Mr. Evans hadn't asked him any questions, and he was almost more grateful for that than anything else he was doing.

"Then I'm going to help you undress and into the shower."

Harry looked away, but didn't fight as Mr. Evans helped him out of his clothes and onto his smarting feet. He didn't look at Nagini, who he really hoped wasn't watching him. He was far too uncomfortable as it was to check.

The water was lukewarm, which was too hot for his hands and feet but not quite hot enough to warm his bones.

Harry watched his feet as Mr. Evans washed the grime off his shoulders, the water pooled pink and brown for a while.

The water was shut off when it finally ran clear down the drain, and Harry had never loved towels as much as the large fluffy one Mr. Evans wrapped him in. Harry breathed in the clean smell of lavender fabric softener and felt himself finally relax.

A knock came on the door, and a pale arm reached in, holding out a pair of sweats, a large T-shirt, and a first aid kit.

Nagini took the opportunity to leave.

Feeling more human, Harry was able to get the sweats on himself, but Mr. Evans stopped him before he could the shirt on, and sat him back down on the closed toilet seat.

As he began working on Harry's wounds, some of them stinging a bit, Mr. Evans asked, "Lily says you like Magical Creatures."

"Yeah," Harry said.

"Have you ever met a dragon? Lily talks mostly about potions and charms, but I want to know about dragons. I think it is so cool that they really are real."

"My friend got a dragon egg once. He hatched it and everything. Named him Norbert. I'm not the biggest fan of them really. They do eat humans. Hippogriffs are awesome though. And I really want to meet a Griffin. I read-" And he continued talking as Mr. Evans wrapped some of the deeper cuts on his arms.

An hour later, Harry was wrapped in a toasty blanket on a family-sized couch, Lily and Severus on one side of him and his grandparents on the other side of him. Petunia was hiding in her room. Nagini was stretched over everyone's feet like a giant golden retriever -with scales.

Ben Hur was playing on the TV and Harry was sipping chicken broth soup from a spoon. No one was talking, but as they watched Judah save a Roman soldier from a shipwreck, Harry couldn't help feeling like he had finally found home.

AN: Please review? I've been writing for you :D

Chapter 19: Did You Notice?

KEYNOTE: Lucius and Nott aren't Death Eaters, they bailed the moment they heard the rumour Voldemort was a half blood. Which didn't stop them in the books, but I going with Voldemort's blood status wasn't revealed before they took the dark marks. Also, Lucius is an ass but he isn't completely corrupted, very greywizard.

AN: The original Ben Hur is one of my favorite movies, also no horses were hurt in the filming :D

Nagini: Fantastic Beasts. Yes, I consider it cannon, no you don't have to agree with me, but yes, I loved the movies. Second one was better, both were fun. And I wouldn't have written this story if I hadn't watched those films.

Chapter 19 - Did You Notice?

Harry had sunk into a stupor, drinking idly at the bubbled water Mrs. Evans kept giving him.

He felt lost in the story unfolding before, even as he fought to savour the feeling of people he loved around him.

By the time movie finished he felt like Judah, felt like crying at surviving what he had and being united with his family.

He let his eyes close as the credits rolled, and he must have dozed off because the next thing he knew Euphemia was in front of him.

She looked relieved, tired, and extremely worried. Which is when the questions started and he couldn't help but shrink into the couch away from her.

Eirick was furious, all they had done to calm Harry down, undone in moments by her emotions.

Harry had fallen asleep, sleep that he probably hadn't had in the last month.

Reading Eirick, just as she always did, Rose stepped in, grabbing the other woman by the arm and pulling her away from cowering teenage. He was barely conscious, Eirick wondered how much he could even process of his surroundings.

"How dar-"

Eirick got in the raven-haired beauty's face and said in a low tone, "Back off."

"He's my son," she snarled back.

"No," Lily said cooly, "he isn't."

Mrs. Potter's husband came to her side, "Euphemia, he's safe. Breathe."

Harry seemed to be taking that advice as he breathed in deliberately in and out. He kept his eyes pinched shut as if he were expecting a blow.

It broke Eirick's heart. He had joined the British Navy after his home country, Belgium, had been invaded. He had been sixteen, and his father had returned to his home to fight with the Norwegians.

There were some things you could not unsee, not un-know, and Harry Potter had the look of a soldier. Age meant very little, save for he should never have had to live through what he did.

Eirick knelt by the couch, "Harry, can you hear me?"

Harry nodded, leaning away from Lily who hadn't moved, though the look she was giving Euphemia was startlingly like the look Rose gave when someone stupidly crossed a line.

"Listen, you don't have to answer anyone anything, you don't owe anything to anyone," he said, glaring up at Euphemia. "But there is one question that the magical police might need. Do you know where you were?"

Harry took in a deep breath, sitting up straight, he sighed, looking down at his hands. When he answered, his voice was toneless, monotone, yet frighteningly clear, "Riddle Manor, Little Hangleton, it is a small muggle town."

"Thank you," Eirick said.

Rose slipped into the kitchen, doubtless to grab some soup to go.

Euphemia finally seemed to gain her wits around her.

Good, he thoughts, your emotions don't matter, witch. He's the one who's hurt.

Mr. Potter spoke, "Harry? Are you ready to go, it isn't truly safe here."

If Eirick had a weapon on him in that moment he might have aimed for the other man's heart.

Harry stood, stiffly, robotically. His giant snake wrapped herself around him, coming to rest around his torso, across his back, her head resting against his chest. It must have hurt. Despite the bandages, the added pressure couldn't have felt good, and snakes being all muscle, she must have weighed at least half of what he did. As the majority of his wounds were bruises -internal bleeding, and surface cuts… No, it could not have been pleasant to held so.

But rather than showing signs of pain, Harry seemed to take strength from the serpent.

Mr. Potter was talking, thanking them for looking after their son, Euphemia was accepting jars of homemade soup from Rose, but Eirick had attention only for Harry and his own daughter.

Lily looked as if she would have rathered leave with Harry than part with him. Harry watched his feet as he followed his guardians to the door.

When he turned back, Eirick's heart faltered.

Harry looked as if leaving them was another form of torture. His eyes filled with such regret, sorrow… his eyes…

"Thank you," he said softly to them, though this time his voice was far from toneless.

The Potters left before Eirick could respond.

They were all silent for a long time when Severus, who had remained on the couch with Lily, spook up, "So did anyone else notice his eyes were the same color as Lily's?"

Eirick had noticed that his eyes were green, but not until he leaving did he notice Harry's eyes were the same emerald green eyes as his daughter's.

"Lily," Rose began, "what aren't you telling?"

It was the tone she used when she knew Lily was omitting things to spare their 'muggle' feelings. God almighty, how he hated that word, muggle. As if they were something that groveled in the dirt because they couldn't shoot sparks out of their arses.

He was very proud of his daughter, both his daughters, but he didn't think Lily or her friend, Severus, realized quite how dangerous their gifts could be.

"Do you remember that nightmare I had?" Lily asked.

"Yes," Rose and Eirick said in unison.

"What nightmare?" Severus asked.

"I think Harry is a time traveler."

There was a long, long, looong silence.

Severus looked lost. Eirick exchanged a look with his beautiful, beautiful wife, who was as intelligent as she was cunning.

And here they thought telling their daughters Petunia was adopted would be their biggest family dynamic changer.

"Wait," Severus said in dawning realization, "You don't mean… you can't mean… you? You end up with James Potter!?"

Lily patted his knee, "He isn't all bad. Harry's proof of that."

Eirick had one of those out of body experiences, not dissimilar to the time he watched his three year old daughter make every cherry blossom in their backyard visibly bloom at once as the spring rain drenched them.

Rose pinched the bridge of her freckled nose, "I'm too young for this."

Harry's knees buckled as they landed in the parlor Potter Manor. Had Fleamont not grabbed him he would have fallen, which possibly would have hurt less than his grandfather's hands gripping him at the arms where he had the deepest cuts.

Again, he saw black spots and he felt as if he was going to be sick. He felt suddenly hot and jerked from Fleamont's grip to slid to the floor, the floor that was definitely spinning. Merlin, Merlin, Merlin…

He didn't want to be sick, he felt terrible enough without making a mess, without giving up the only meal that hadn't been force fed to him in weeks.

Nagini slid off him, but circled him and hissed at his grandparents as they tried to reach him.

There was a roaring in his ears, like the ocean, waves breaking over him to swallow him to the deeps.

He rested his forehead on the cool floor. Merlin, so weak. A month of torture and you're going to lose it over a simple apparition? Typical.

He was disgusted with himself. Voldemort hadn't broken him. Yes, he had been able to strip his mind with Legilimens. But Harry had chosen to starve himself rather than submit, rather than show a single moment of reverence or terror to Tom Marvolo Riddle Merlin-damned Junior.

"Harry!" James called, from the top of the stairs.

Harry curled his fists against the floor and pushed himself to his feet. He ignored the spinning world around him and stood tall. He looked his young father boldly in the face even as he wished he could have just been left alone on the Evans's couch. He could have watched the rerun of Ben Hur again.

James gaped at him,

And Harry couldn't stand it, couldn't stand the questions clear in his expression. Harry would rather be crucioed than answer questions -than try to speak at that moment.

It was all he could do to stand and not spill his insides on the floor.

James, rash, insensitive, bull-headed James, had an unexpected moment of understanding. He walked slowly to Harry and tentatively extended his arm. Nagini shifted to let him pass and Harry slumped against James's side. And just as Snape had, James helped hold him up as they walked. They got up the first step, when either Euphemia or Fleamont spelled the steps to escalated up with a sound of boards popping and renailing themselves together.

James helped him into the bathroom of the room he had one night in. James gave him privacy, leaving though not completely shutting the door. By the time Harry emerged, Nagini, Euphemia, and Hedwig were waiting for him.

Hedwig hooted at him indignantly, and Nagini hissed, "I see what you mean about already having a familiar."

"Harry," Euphemia said softly.

"Please," Harry begged, "please, I just want to sleep."

She nodded, she stood and helped him under the covers. She kissed his cheek and left without another word.

Harry felt like a shit for hurting her feelings, felt worse for honestly wishing he could have remained with his other grandparents. Eirick didn't make him feel like he was quite as much the freak. And Harry felt more comfortable around Lily than James.

He supposed he shouldn't pick favorites. He didn't love anyone less than anyone else, but being around his mother was natural, with James it was like they were locked in some type of competition. And he felt like he had to prove something to James.

Something he had surely failed at.

Harry curled in on himself, he might have cried if he had the energy.

He needed sleep, he knew that. He was so tired it was surreal, but the bed was too soft. Four weeks he had been in a stone floored cage, where he couldn't stretch out or sit up straight. This bed felt all wrong. It was far more than he deserved.

He slid to the side of the bed, taking the covers with him. He bit his lip as he fell to the floor with a thud. He pulled the blankets tighter around him and wedged himself halfway under the bed.

Nagini didn't seem to have a problem with being under the bed as opposed to on top of it, and curled her length against his side.

Her weight was a comforting presence, and he slipped into sleep, a sleep so sudden, so black, so complete he had split moment to wonder if he had died.

He woke in what felt like minutes later but was probably hours later to rage and shrieking in his mind.

Voldemort had finally been told of his absence, growing all the more angry as he realized Nagini had been 'kidnapped.' Harry couldn't truly shield against him, but he had learned how to feed Voldemort's emotions back to him. Harry went passive, his mind blank except for what Voldemort was feeling and experiencing.

I will find you! The Dark Lord swore in his mind before shielding from him.

Harry wiggled more completely under the bed, Nagini shifting with him without complaint. As hiding spots went, he probably could have done better.

Someone was calling his name but he couldn't face them. Everything hurt. He just wanted to be left alone. He pulled the blankets around himself and whimpered when the blankets pulled back.

Euphemia was horrified to find Harry gone when she got into the room and only marginally relieved to find him under the bed.

"Harry," she called softly, "come on, Harry, dear, you can't stay there. Oh, Harry."

The blankets were pulled further under the bed. Gently, she tried to pull them back, and flinched when she heard a small protest in response.

And then the great snake, that Harry had brought with him, struck out at her, hissing a warning. It didn't sink its fangs in, but Euphemia got a good look at them.

She figured killing the snake wouldn't help Harry, so she retreated downstairs to where her husband, James, Henry, three Aurors, Newt Scamander, and Albus Dumbledore waited.

They looked at her expectantly, and she didn't know what to say. She had been a mother for sixteen years and she didn't even know where to begin with this kind of trauma.

They must have seen it on her face because Albus began, "Ah yes, well, if you will allow-"

"No," Scamander said. "No, you will only make things worse."

Dumbledore looked offended, "I am rather good with children."

"No, you're good at convincing people to do what you want them to do."

"You are rather heavy handed," an American Auror said.

"Where is he?" Scamander asked her.

She didn't want to say it, not in front of the all these people. "Second bedroom on the right."

Newt Scamander breezed past her, and for all his oddities, he was braver than she was. Euphemia couldn't stand that every decision she made with Harry seemed to be wrong. Hated that when they had picked him up from the muggles he had been afraid of her.

The look on his face when they left, as if he would have given up everything in the world to stay with them.

It had broken her heart.

"Oh, hello, Nagini," an unfamiliar voice said, breaking Harry from his sleep.

He tensed, and bit his lip at the resulting protest in his body.

"Tell Newt I say hello," Nagini instructed him, resting her head on the side of his neck.

He blinked, and peeked around the covers at a man laying down on his back beside the bed. "She says hello," he croaked.

The man smiled at them, "You can understand her?"

"Parselmouth," Harry sighed, trying to wrap his head around where he was and who this man was. He didn't look like a Potter, or an Auror for that matter.

The man's smile reached his tawny eyes, "What a splendid gift. I knew Nagini when she could still shift. She is lucky to have found you."

"She saved me," he told him, "who are you?"

"Newt Scamander."

Harry blinked at him, then blushed. Figures, it was so him that he would meet his freaking hero while hiding under a bed like a coward. Though even thinking that didn't make him want to leave. If anything, he wanted to disappear altogether.

But Newt Scamander didn't ask him to get out from under the bed, he looked up toward the ceiling -to Harry's relief, and asked, "You read my book, the long one."

"I love your book," he said honestly, "I wish there was more of it."

Newt smiled up at the ceiling, "I have many more notes you can have a copy of, if you don't mind my shorthand."

"Really? And I got used to them. The arrows help."

"My wife is always complaining that I don't leave any blank spaces. That blank spaces have purposes."

"But that doesn't look as cool around the pictures."

"Niffler," Nagini warned.

"What?" Harry asked in a hiss.

And then he was confronted with a baby niffler who was outrageously cute until it stole his glasses.

"Accio," he said as the little fuzz ball tried to drag his glasses away.

The niffler and his glasses came to his hand. The niffler scurred away and Newt reached out to catch him as Harry awkwardly put back on his glasses. Lying on his stomach with Nagini, there was only so much room to do this.

"Wandless magic," Newt observed.

"I lost my wand in the river."

"Better than your life."

Harry sighed, shutting his eyes, "Yeah, being the Boy Who Lived is working out well."

"I heard you survived a Kelpie attack. Odd that they went after you that close to the shore. Bad luck I suppose."

"My luck is a cosmic joke," Harry said as he tried to shift into a more comfortable position.

There wasn't one.

Newt was watching him closely, the look was both scientific and kind. As if he were observing the habits of some adorable creature.

Nagini rubbed her head under his jaw, "Trust him. He will do what's right."

Hesitantly, Harry extended a hand out toward the older man, who took his hand more gently than he would have imagined. Awkwardly for Newt but not overly painful for Harry, Newt slid him along with the blankets out while inching backward on his back.

By all rights, it should have been jerky, but Newt somehow managed to hold his gentle grip and get Harry out from under the bed no more harmed than he had been.

They both sat up. Sitting up gave Harry vertigo, he shut his eyes and tried to relearn how to breathe.

"Did anyone call a healer?" Newt asked, but he didn't wait for an answer and Harry saw the blue-silvery light through his lashes.

"Patronus?" Harry asked.

"You can pass messages through a Patronus."

That was news to him, but he had to ask, "Are you going to make me go downstairs now?"

"No. You can wait for the healer."

Harry wasn't sure that was better, but as long as no one asked him personal questions he could live with it. Nagini came to curl up around his lap and waist, he rested his hands on her cool scales. He had never thought that a snake could give him this much comfort.

But then she wasn't really a snake. Did that make her a cannibal? Or had Voldemort possessed her and then make her eat people. Was Voldemort a cannibal?

It wouldn't be all that surprising.

"You're not really an animagus, are you?" Harry asked.

"No, I was born with a blood curse. I will never be able to return to my human form now. But it would be best if you didn't share that fact. People treat snakes better than they treat women who turn into snakes."

That was a depressing sentiment.

"She doesn't want others to know, know she was human once," Harry told Newt, and was pleased to find the world not spinning when he opened his eyes.

"Okay," Newt acquiesced.

Harry relaxed some, leaning back against the side of the bed.

"What who was the first serpent you ever talked to?"

He couldn't help but smile a bit, "On my cousin's birthday, there was this big boa. I started talking to it rhetorically and to my surprise, he seemed to understand me. My cousin noticed and pushed me aside. He started banging on the glass and then the glass disappeared and the snake slithered out, saying Brazil here I come, thanks amigo. Then the glass reappeared, trapping my cousin in the tank. It was a great day."

Nagini chuckled.

Newt was highly worried for the boy, and he was angry that no one had thought to contact a healer. He had been held captive by a dark lord for a month, that should have been the first thing they had done.

And Mrs. Potter had looked so concerned when she came down the stairs. All things considered, seeking refuge under a bed wasn't an unreasonable reaction.

Newt wasn't even sure how the boy was awake, he looked like a light breeze would knock him over. And though there were no visible wounds, but every now and then his body would be rocked by a tremor, like his skin was trying crawl off.

The Cruciatus Curse. Newt didn't like to think how much this boy had endured, how close his escape must have been to keeping his mind intact.

And it was intact, all his symptoms now were just pain and exhausted.

Of the surprises he wasn't expecting today, seeing Nagini again had indeed been a big one. He wasn't a hundred percent certain she was safe for the boy to be around but she seemed quite taken with him.

It wasn't hard for Newt to guess why, when Harry had quoted the snake from his childhood, he had said it in Parseltongue. To be finally be understood after decades living as animal… he could only imagine. And even as battered as the boy was, he could tell the boy was big-hearted. It was there in the way his hands laid on the snake, the look he gave the prideful snowy owl in the corner.

"How old were you?" Newt asked.

"Eleven, well ten but only by a month or so."

Eleven? Newt thought, "Old for accidental magic."

"Oh, that's nothing. When I was thirteen, I blew up my aunt."

Nagini went very still and hissed something.

Harry smiled, and hissed his reply, he looked at Newt and said in English, "Like a balloon, she floated away. Aurors got her down alright though."

Just who is this boy? Also, how does a thirteen year old child turn their muggle relative into a balloon and that not make news? Even in America, he should have heard about that.

Which meant someone was trying to cover up that this boy had ever existed.

Harry shut his eyes for a moment and the next thing he knew Madame Pomfrey was before him.

She pulled her wand and he was suddenly shirtless, the bandages gone.

He shivered and leaned away from her. But he was trapped. His heartbeat kicked into overdrive and Nagini, "Easy, sshhhh, healer, she's a healer, you need her."

"I need my wand." he hissed back.

Madame Pomfrey seemed only slightly startled at his talking to a snake.

"He needs to sleep," Pomfrey told Newt as one by one his bruises and cuts began to fade leaving a dull ache behind.

It made him feel tired, but then, everything made him feel tired at the moment.

"There are Aurors downstairs to talk to you, Mr. Potter. After that you will get some rest," Pomfrey told him.

"Thanks," he said as he pulled on his shirt. Moving was easier now. Although he wanted more than anything to curl up in the corner and sleep, he didn't. Instead, he followed her downstairs, Nagini coiled around him.

He wondered if she would be allowed into classes with him.

Harry was used to stares but he still hated how they all watched him. They settled themselves in one of the many rooms with seating, and the questions start.

He was able to hedge most of them, and Mad-Eye Moody lost his temper, "Names, boy, we need names."

"Lestranges," Harry snapped, "Yaxley and…" And he couldn't honestly remember. He could remember their faces, the feel of their hands on his jaw, the feel of their spells cutting into him, but their names?

Harry remembered better the names from his past, but those weren't entirely the same people now. Andromeda's sister, Bella hadn't been there, neither had Lucius Malfoy.

"Um, MacNair?" Harry said uncertainty, he had been foul, had been depressed about not being able to kill Buckbeak.

He wouldn't be a loss to society.

"MacNair's dead. His mask melted into his face, it caused his eyeballs to pop, which is what killed him."

"Moody!" several people exclaimed.

It wasn't the most appetizing image, but Harry wasn't at all depressed by the monster's fate. He wondered if that was same Death Eater Andromeda had taken down.

He missed Andromeda, he wished she was here now. If there was anyone he wanted to talk to this about it was her, not these people who would find even more reasons to worry no matter what he said.

Because it wasn't like they were going to solve anything, from their desperate expressions, aside from Newt and James, the raid on Riddle Manor probably hadn't turned up anything.

"My boy," Dumbledore began, "why was Riddle after you?"

Harry turned to him and those twinkling eyes boldy meeting his made something inside him snap, "I don't know, Albus, why would Tommy be after me? Why would he kill my parents just to get after a stinking baby? Why? When I asked you my first year, you said it was because Lily's love saved me. Love. How does love save a baby from a killing curse? Was my mother really the only one to exchange her life for her child's?"

Dumbledore blinked at him and the rest of the room had gone deathly silent, "My boy-"

"I am not your boy!" Harry yelled at him. "Why did the Dark Lord need me dead? He didn't know until this year why he needs me alive, but before? Why was he after me?"

"I don't know."

"You do!" Harry stood, Nagini curling up on the warm spot he left behind. "You do know. You've known since the beginning. That's why you put me with the Dursleys. That's why you didn't help Sirius get a trial. You knew. And you knew about the stupid scar too.

"You thought I would be like Riddle because I was orphan and we are both Parselmouths, because I should I have been in Slytherin instead of Gryffindor. It's why you were always testing me. Why in my second year you sent Fawkes and the Hat to save me. Instead of coming yourself, or hiring a halfway decent DADA professor, or sending a freaking rooster. You send the damned sword of Godric Gryffindor to battle a Dark Lord and a Balisk. I was twelve! You did it so I could prove I was worth your trust. Because risking my life to save a first year girl apparently wasn't enough. Because unless your Severus Freaking Snape, you're have to be evil and untrustworthy if the talking hat puts you in the snake house."

"Harry?" James asked.

He ignored him, so many things were rolling together, and he, Harry, deserved answers more than any of them. "Why where you never there when I needed you? Was the Triwizard Tournament a test too or were you simply using me as bait? Because surely if Mad-Eye-Imposter could confund the Goblet of Fire, then the Great Albus Dumbledore could have gotten a fourth champion, a fourteen year old student out of fighting dragons, my friends and Fleur's little sister threatened wit drowning in the lake, or a stupid maze that you knew, that you bloody well knew was Voldemort's last chance to get at me. And you choose another bloody challenge that the audience couldn't even see what was going on!"

He was shaking now, and everyone was looking at him as if he had gone mad. Let them think it, let them think whatever the damn well pleased. He only cared about what Dumbledore had to say for himself.

"And then last year. I watch Diggory die, Voldemort come back to life out a cauldron, and you left me to rot over the summer with the muggle. No friends, no letters, no anything but a peck on the cheek from two rogue dementors. No explanations, no plan, no acknowledgement of any kind. And then there was the trial. The trial before the entire Wizengamot. Where you didn't even have the decency to make eye contact. Couldn't be bothered to look at me, much less explain anything. Not even after Mr. Weasley was attacked and I saw it happen from hundreds of kilometers away."

He was so angry, as angry as he been before he time traveled.

"Something you couldn't make time for. You just tried to get Snape to teach me Occlumency. I don't dislike Snape, but he is a shite professor, and you knew he hated me. How did you think that was going to work out? Everyone always telling me how much everyone sacrifices to keep me alive but you couldn't find anyone else to teach me Occlumency?

"All the while, you let Umbridge terrorize the school," he held up his hand with the words scarred on the back of it. "I wasn't the only one she used blood quills on. And you did nothing. It wasn't Voldemort trying to kill me, it was one of your stupid DADA professors, again!"

"So now, you tell me, what the bloody hell did the Dark Lord want from me to begin with? Why did it have to be me? Why was I the Boy Who Lived? Why was it my family that had to die? ANSWER ME!" He pointed at his scar, "And how were you planning to get rid of this? Were you planning for me die? Did you keep your distance from me because you knew that in order for the Dark Lord to be killed completely, I have to die too?"

At this point, Harry took stock of the room. Albus looked ashen, his grandparents were in tears, and James looked horrified.

"Oh," Newt said, breaking the silence, "You're a time traveler. That makes a lot of sense."

The brown haired Auror beside him let out an exasperated sigh, placing two fingers to her forehead.

One of the nameless Aurors asked, "So wait, how did you time travel? And who are you?"

"Harry James Potter, and some mirror in Dumbledore's office. I trashed his office after the Ministry called for his arrest. I was looking for answers."

Henry Potter, Mr. and Mrs. Potter looked all sorts of shocked and disbelieving.

But James looked as if he had been putting the pieces together, "You're my son, from the future, and Lily's."

Harry nodded, "What gave it away?"

"You mean aside from the fact that you look like my clone and said Lily's love saved you? Your eyes. You transfigured your eyes to be blue I'm guessing, but now they are emerald green, just like Lily's," he sounded calm. "Is this why your Patronus is a stag? Because of me?"

Harry nodded.

The female Auror beside Newt asked, "A mirror? How does a mirror take you back in time?" She had an American accent.

"Athena's Mirror," Dumbledore breathed, "My friend was going to gift it to me. But he said it had broken. The shattered pieces dissolved so he couldn't even repair it. It is legended to be from Ancient Greece, a gift from the Goddess Athena to the God Apollo. It was intended as a one way ticket for him to rewrite the past."

"A mirror?" the American Auror repeated, "We found mirror shards in Ollivander's shop, where his wand should be."

"You have my wand?" Harry asked sharply.

She pulled it out of her robes, and he accioed it from her hand, wandlessly, wordlessly, and he thrilled at the warmth that greeted him when his fingers caught the Holly.

He met the witch's startled brown gaze. "Thank you," he breathed.

"But the mirror doesn't work," Dumbledore said. "The literature said that Athena's owl was the only one who could activate it, and the owl found the god less than worthy."

Hoot.

They all turned to look at the snowy owl perched on the bookshelf.

Hedwig looked down at them all with reproachful amber eyes. She hooted softly.

She glided down to perch on Harry's shoulder, and nuzzled the side of his cheek.

Newt threw his head back and laughed.

AN: Didn't think I would explain that, did you? The following chapter will have Andromeda and some of the fall out of Harry spilling the beans. Update will be in a week or more though, no wining, I still should be doing a thousand other things right now.

Thoughts? Reactions? Comments? Please?

Chapter 20: Still Breathing

Euphemia: I am not trying to demonize Euphemia or Fleamont, but I have worked in many places with kids and parents. Euphemia raised James, she is an older mom, and James's worst issue is being spoilt. That in no way prepares a person for dealing with troubled teens. Harry's needs are very different from James's. Being a good parent, being a good person, doesn't equip you for handling every child. And having troubles, being difficult, doesn't make you a bad son or daughter, it's just life and the people who raise aren't always the ones to help us heal.

P.s. Harry had no visible injuries, he just looked exhausted. And as far as I know, there is nothing but a sleep potion that can help with the side effects of the torture curse. Yes, they should have gotten a healer but that isn't everyone's first instinct.

WARNING: Darkish chapter.

BETA: Ahrnberg is back!

Chapter 20 - Still Breathing

Albus had always known he had been destined to make mistakes. He had been making them his entire life. He thought, he hoped, that age would make him better. That perhaps he would grow up and truly be able to do what was best for the students in his care, for the people who looked up to him.

He had been wrong, so very wrong.

And the worst, the absolute worst, was that the young man before him didn't hate him.

He was angry, certainly, and confused, and hurting. But it wasn't hatred on his face, it was betrayal; disappointment.

Albus would have rather have been punched than be the cause of such a look. To know that this young, incredible man had put his faith in him and he had failed him…

Of what Harry had said he had gathered a few things, that he had placed him with Ms. Evans family, that his time at Hogwarts had been thwart with danger. The main source of that danger coming from DADA professors.

Perhaps he wasn't lying when he had told them that he had been self-taught in the subject. That he had fought in the Triwizard tournament, that he watched a descendent of Amos Diggory die, that the Tom his time had been defeated only to be given a new body, that Tom had a mental connection to Harry, that some of his teachers had tortured children, and that Harry Potter had a very good reason for learning the Patronus Charm.

"Did anyone send an Auror to the Evans'?" Harry asked into the silence formed of everyone trying -and failing, to digest what had been thrown at them.

"Yes," Tina said, "As soon as we found out where you were. They are safe, though it is good you came here. The Potters are less likely to be victims than the muggles."

Harry flinched at the word 'victim.' He was no stranger to death.

"The spell Flitwick used," Fleamont said, speaking for the first time, "He didn't miscast it."

"No," Harry said.

So they had all known from the beginning. They had been blind for not seeing it. But of course, time travel was experimental at best magic. Confined to paradoxes and the farthest anyone had managed was a few seconds with sand. But Albus should have known the moment he heard that Athena's Mirror had broken.

"Harry, can I ask, why do you like Sirius more than me. I mean I get why you like Lily more than me, Lily is amazing. But Sirius…"

Harry's expression softened. "Sirius was my godfather, I got to meet him, get to know him a bit. It was hard because he was on the run and we were at war, but Sirius was the only family I had, the only family that gave a damn about me."

"Why was he on the run," Tina asked.

"Their friend, Peter Pettigrew, after turning my parents and me over to Voldemort, he framed Sirius for the murder of thirteen muggles and his own death. Wormtail cut off one of his fingers and escaped down a gutter in his rat form."

They all stared at him. And Albus had a moment to think of the plumb boy who had never seemed of any real significance either for good or ill.

"Peter," Euphemia breathed, "little Peter di-"

"That's why you hated him so much," James said, he looked pained, "but Sirius would never kill muggles, he's not like his family, surely a trial-"

"He didn't receive a trial," Harry said flatly. "Crouch locked him up in high security. Because his last name was Black and he was supposed to be the secret keeper not Wormtail."

The Aurors in the room did not like that, did not like that at all.

"Harry," Henry Potter began, "You said none of your family cared for you, surely Fleamont and Euphemia could have taken you in. I might not be here in twenty years but they-"

"Died," Harry said softly.

"How?" Henry asked, a hard gleam in his eyes.

Harry shook his head, "I don't know. I don't even know how my maternal grandparents died either. My Aunt Petunia never spoke of them, and if she couldn't be bothered to talk about her sister and parents then the notion she would talk about my paternal family was laughable."

"So you didn't know anything about us?" Fleamont asked.

Again, Harry shook his head, "Sirius told me last Christmas that he ran away from home in the sixth year. That you took him in without question and treated him like a son. He said you were great people."

There was an infinite sadness in the boy's voice, in his emerald eyes, as if any happiness he had he knew to be brief and would leave him all the worse for having been happy.

Harry turned back to Albus and accused, "Of course, you didn't tell me anything either."

"Watch it, boy," Alastor growled.

Harry gave the Auror such a look that had it been anyone but Mad-Eye Moody, they would have stepped back. As it was, the Auror sitting beside Alastor moved over a seat.

"Harry," Albus said, "I do not have the answers you asked for. I can only guess that perhaps there was a prophecy involved. That perhaps someone predicted in order for Tom to succeed-"

"I would have to die."

Albus nodded.

"Well," Newt said, "I think, Harry, you've exceeded in changing the timeline, whatever happened to you is yours. Your history. But the future as it stands is no longer something you can stand for."

James was the first to catch on to what Newt meant, "Harry, do you want anything to eat before you get some more rest?"

"Maybe some herbal tea with honey."

Euphemia stood at once, "Right away."

James, Harry, and Euphemia left the room and no one stopped them. Hedwig was still on Harry's shoulder.

Newt stared after Harry, deep in thought.

"I'm glad he's on our side," Tina remarked.

"What do you mean, our side?" Alastor asked gruffly.

"I don't know many people who could have done what he has and remained unbroken."

Albus thought that perhaps Harry Potter hadn't even begun to show who he really was.

And perhaps who he was, was something any of them could only aspire to be. Well, except for Newt, the two seemed to already be bounding as peas in a pod.

Harry was grateful that no one asked him any more questions. James sat beside him drinking the same type of tea, though he had added more sugar than Harry had.

Soon enough he was back in bed.

This time he was able to sleep on it rather than under it, Negani and Hedwig welcome company on either side of him.

The letter came early in the morning before the paper.

"They found him!" Sirius exclaimed

Andromeda stood so fast she knocked over her chair. "St. Mungo's?"

Sirius shook his head, he was on his feet too, "Potter Manor."

"I'm coming to," Bella declared.

"No," Sirius and Andromeda said in unison.

Bella looked deeply hurt.

Andromeda took her hand it squeezed it, "Next time, if Harry is feeling better you can meet him next time."

Narcissa took her other hand, "He should be at his best if he is going to meet a lady."

"Andromeda-" Bella began.

"Please, Bella," Andromeda asked.

Bella took her hand back and pouted, "Fine. But next time."

Lucius stood, "Do you need to bring anything with you?"

"I just need to see him," Andromeda said, pulling Sirius out of the dining room and disapparating as soon as they got out the front door.

Harry had slept over twelve hours and he still felt exhausted. The Scamander's, Dumbledore, and Moody had left, leaving two Aurors behind to help guard them against Voldemort.

Harry didn't really feel safe as he knew the average Auror couldn't stand against Voldemort, but there was nowhere he could go that would be safe, and Voldemort would hunt down his family if he couldn't get at Harry soon enough.

It was with that line of thought that was making it difficult to eat his breakfast.

A knock on the door sounded and Harry heard one of the Aurors.

He heard also the familiar sound of Sirius and Andromeda's voices.

Harry abandoned his food and went to the entrance, slowing before crossing into the next room.

Was he ready to see Andromeda again? Ready for her to see him like this? She had never seen him have an episode with his scar. What if he fell at her feet screaming? Would she decide he was too much trouble, too many broken pieces to want to stay with?

James didn't touch him but gave him a comforting smile as he went to go greet his friend.

Taking a deep breath, Harry followed after him.

"Harry!" Sirius greeted joyously.

Harry couldn't help but smile a bit, "Hi, Sirius." His eyes catching Andromeda's gaze. Her brown eyes were filled with such relief.

"By the way Sirius," James said slinging an arm around Sirius to stop him from going for a hug, "You're Harry's godfather."

"What?"

"You have Lily Evans' eyes," Andromeda said softly.

She knew. By the way she said it, he was positive she had figured it out herself. Not all that surprising considering how many clues he let drop.

"What?" Sirius repeated. Then his lightbulb went off, "Oh Merlin, you're a time traveler? You're James's son? That's so weird. But wait? Why do you act like you barely knew James or Lily?"

"Voldemort murdered them when I was a year old."

Sirius's face went from curious and mischievous to murderous. The switch was so abrupt, it startled Harry a little bit.

"I'll talk to Sirius," James said, "you two can have some privacy."

Harry looked away at that. He had missed Andromeda, wanted to be with her but he wasn't sure if he could-

She held out a hand to him, he hesitated for a moment, then took it. She didn't pull him in for a kiss like he had dreaded, rather she turned and headed up the steps.

"Which room?" she asked without turning around.

"Second door on the right," he answered.

He watched her hair shine as they scaled the steps. She was so gorgeous. He just felt- He didn't know what to do, didn't know what a boyfriend was supposed to do in circumstances like these.

She pulled him into his bedroom and shut the door behind him.

He swallowed hard, suddenly terrified, more scared than he had been when he had heard Voldemort's footsteps sound down the hall.

"Harry," she said, "I love you."

His shoulders stiffened, he opened his mouth to repeat it.

She squeezed his hand, and slowly, so slowly she crossed the space between them.

He didn't want to kiss her, he loved her too, he knew he did, but he couldn't kiss her. He just couldn't not with this body, not with how weak he still felt. Even if physically he was fine, he still had moments where he felt like scratching off his skin.

But Andromeda didn't try to kiss him, gently she slid her arms around him. His breath caught, and he choked back a sound that sounded suspiciously like a sob.

He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight, she held him back. He buried his face in the curve of her neck and shoulder, breathing in the scent of her hair, her perfume, her.

The tension him blew out of him like a birthday candle.

Andromeda held him. She couldn't keep up with his mood shifts, and she didn't need to. Whatever he needed, whatever he wanted, she would give it to him.

She breathed in the smell of him, he smelled like wind still, but he had apparently switched soaps, he smelled fruitier than he usually did.

After a time she pulled back, and he released her at once. She kissed his cheek and he looked at her with deep emerald eyes, looking lost, looking at her as if she were the only light on the path that he feared would wink out in the wind.

She took his hand again and pulled him to the bed. She slipped off her boots and got on the bed. Never letting go of his hand, she settled on one side of the bed, and after a moment, he laid down beside her.

They stared up at the ceiling and listened to each other breath.

"I missed you," he said finally, squeezing her hand. "Some days the memory of you was the only thing that kept me going. Which I felt sort of guilty about."

She didn't turn to look at him, though she wanted to, "Why?"

"Because I have family, and friends. It felt kind of selfish to be clinging to your memory."

"You didn't know me before you time traveled, did you?"

"No, I had met Narcissa and Nymphadora though. Didn't like Narcissa much, her son, Draco Malfoy and I didn't get along. Nymphadora was pretty amazing."

Nymphadora, she liked that name, she liked that name a lot. "Nymphadora?" Even the sound of it was nice.

"Yours and Ted's daughter. She was an Auror."

"Ted?" she asked, "Is that why you wouldn't let that go?"

"Yes."

"You know if we had kids they could be pretty amazing."

She heard the sound of him turning to face her, "If we had a daughter we wouldn't name her Nymphadora."

"It's a good name."

"I like it but she hated it, she went by Tonks. I think she also called you a fool."

"Ouch, that hurt," she quipped, "Honestly though, if Ted and I married, it was to get me out of marrying Lestrange. If I had to be with him like that- I trust him. But Harry I don't feel for him what I feel for you. In your time, that version of me would have have been engaged. My uncle tried to pass Bella and me over to the Lestrange boys this holiday."

"How did that go?"

"I threw a Bloody Boil curse at my Auntie's face."

"Sirius's mother?"

"Yep."

He chuckled, and she was relieved to hear it. She almost didn't tell him the rest.

"Sirius and I got in a duel with my mother, my grandfather, and uncle."

"Is everyone alright?"

"Uncle Alphard passed."

Harry didn't misunderstand what she meant, "I'm sorry."

"It's alright. His health wasn't great."

He squeezed her hand. "Is Sirius alright? I know they were close."

She nodded, "He is. Regulus is the one dealing with the shocks. Sirius did too good of a job protecting him from the worst of our family. He's too sweet for his own good."

"He will be okay now that he isn't going to become a Death Eater," he said comfortingly.

"Are you bothered what I did on the train?" she asked suddenly, she turned to her head to meet his gaze.

Merlin, he had pretty eyes.

"If you mean about you killing Death Eaters, no. I mean I don't personally like killing people, but these guys were killing children. Moody told me one of them had their mask melted and it caused his eyes to pop -which is what caused him to die."

She blushed, "Pretty sure that was me."

He smiled, and her heart melted.

"But I meant about my leaving you alone, if I had staye-"

"Narcissa would be dead. I don't blame you for saving your sister, I would have done the same in your place."

"How bad was it?" she asked. "They said you went into the river, how did you get away?"

He closed his eyes and pressed the side of his face into the pillow, his glasses coming off his nose a bit.

She didn't think he would answer and she wouldn't push if he didn't, but he surprised her by saying, "I missed the rocks."

He rolled back onto his back and she did as well, holding onto his hand, she realized her hand was more sweaty than his. He didn't protest, just held her hand more firmly as he spoke.

"I thought it was a miracle that I survived. I lost my wand and was too cold to summon it back to me. I was cold enough that if I had been out there much longer I might have died.

"They held me as Voldemort used Legilimens on me, I've never been good at Occlumency. He had my entire life story in a matter of hours.

"He wanted me broken, he wanted me to beg, to bow to him."

His hand convulsed around hers.

"I pissed myself before he got words out of me."

He didn't say it like he was proud, he said it as if he was disgusted with himself, like he wanted her to be disgusted with him.

She wasn't.

"He used the Cruciatus Curse on you."

"Until he realized I would let him destroy me before I gave in. I was so scared I would end up like Neville's parents."

"Neville?"

His voice was angry when he answered, "Longbottom. Alice and Frank, they were tortured into a insanity. They weren't dead like my parents, but I don't know if it was worse, to be a prisoner in your own body. To spend the rest of your life in a hospital, less competent than a child. They barely seemed to be able to recognize their own son."

"He was your friend."

"Your sister was one of the people who did it, she enjoyed using the torture curse on them. Was proud, unremorseful when they dragged her to Azkaban."

It was her turn to flinch, and it was only force of will that kept her holding his hand. It wasn't hard for her to see Bella enjoying torturing people. Their mother had used that curse on them when they were little, and as Bella was the oldest… But it wasn't that that bothered Andromeda, it was the image of Bella in prison, Dementors feasting on her. She blinked back tears, "My sister, Harry, she's not an independent person. She will never be able to function completely on her own. Perhaps if she had been born without magic, but-"

"Are you saying it isn't her fault."

"No, I'm saying if they were going to lock her away, St. Mungo's would have been the better fit."

He didn't argue with her. He took a few minutes to organize his thoughts before saying, "I stopped eating, they had to force feed me, and Voldemort got more creative than the Cruciatus. I couldn't quite bring myself to kill myself, but I thought if I was weak enough if Voldemort went too far I would die before I went mad."

She shut her eyes, tears falling silently. She would kill this Lord Voldemort. She would do things to him that could never be healed.

"You escaped," she reminded him, her throat painfully tight.

"Nagini saved me. Also, did you know that you could start a car with an unlocking charm?"

"Who's Nagini?"

"Giant magical boa constructor. She stole the keys to my cage."

She turned to face him, "And then you stole a car."

"It ran out of gas near Snape's home, he brought me to Lily's."

"Severus saved you, interesting. How was it meeting your other grandparents?"

"I wish I had met them when I wasn't-" He stopped and turned to her, "They were kind of brilliant. I don't know what went wrong with my Aunt Petunia. My grandfather Eirick is really incredible."

"Were they murdered in your time?"

"I don't think so, it was implied to me that the Potters were, but no one ever mentioned Mr. and Mrs. Evans except the one time my Aunt said they were proud Lily was a witch."

"She sounds jealous."

"My aunt was a lot of things." His eyes flicked shut for a moment and then it was as if he had to drag his eyelids open.

Andromeda rested her free hand on the side of his face. "Sleep, Harry."

He put his free arm on her side, "I've been sleeping too much."

"No, you haven't slept enough. Give yourself time. This will take time. I will be here when you wake."

He held her gaze, "Promise?"

"Promise," she said, shifting so that they were now sharing the same pillow.

He bent his forehead to touch hers, "I love you," he said.

"I know," she said. Closing her eyes, she listened to the sound of his breathing, felt the warmth of him beneath her touch.

She savored the knowledge that he was alive. The knowledge that a month of her worst nightmares had been proven wrong.

Harry Potter was alive, still breathing, and she would do everything it took to keep him that way.

AN: Andromeda is back! Sorry for moody Harry, but unless you want me to skip scenes this is how the story moves forward. Pretty sure Thestrals Below the Mistletoe came as a response to the content of this story. However, this Harry has an excellent support system that will get him through this.

Thoughts, reactions, hopes, or musings? Pretty please?

Chapter 21: Mastering Death

RECAP: It doesn't really matter that Harry is from the future or who knows he's from the future, that future has completely blown to bits.

AN: To the readers who thought my plot was drawing to end for this fic; yes, I am laughing at you and here's a short chapter show you why ;)

Much love to the reviewers, I may not write because of you, but I certainly post for thee.

Chapter 21 - Mastering Death

His allies were gone, his secrets out, and Harry Potter had doubtless revealed all to Albus Dumbledore.

All his careful planning, only to be thwarted by a boy. He would make him pay, he would wipe the Potter family off the face of the planet. There would not be a wizard or witch left in his line, not even his mudblood mother.

But first, Voldemort needed a wand.

Things were easier with Andromeda and Sirius around, mainly because they didn't treat him like he was invalid. They didn't look concerned or freak when he jumped back three feet at a passing shadow or tried to rub invisible spots off his skin.

They treated him just as they had always done, and most importantly, they didn't ask if he was okay.

Eating was problematic. He was hungry, almost always, but two bites in and he couldn't finish anything -aside from bland chicken broth. Harry was frustrated with himself, his body, and at every instance, he did something that made his Grandma Euphemia look sad.

He wanted to be okay. He was healed, he had survived countless attempts on his life before.

But some fates were worse than death, and what Voldemort had done to him, what he was going to do to him-

Andromeda ran her fingers along the side of his hand. He pulled in a sharp breath and gave her a tentative smile that he knew didn't reach his eyes. But he forced his breath to even out and laced his fingers with hers.

She and Sirius had been here for three days and tomorrow they would all been going back to school, thankful, Harry had received special permission to arrive in Hogsmeade by way of apparition. Yes, the train would be safe, Dumbledore himself would there, but Harry was having problems with panic attacks as it was, and he wanted longer than half a week of being out of danger before getting back on that train.

The start of the new term had officially been pushed back by two weeks, and Harry wondered who else would be having trouble going back to normal.

Euphemia and Fleamont had tried to convince him he could stay home if he wanted, but Harry knew it would be safer for them if he left.

Besides, he wanted to go back to being more himself and Hogwarts was the place to do that. Hogwarts, where nothing was truly normal.

James popped his head into the Potter Library, he smiled at them both and said, "Hi. Andromeda, you have visitors."

"Who?" she asked him shortly.

"Your sisters and your father."

She stood and gripped Harry's hand hard, he pleased to be the one giving rather than receiving comfort, for once.

"You should stay here," Andromeda said.

"It's okay, I want to meet your family," Harry said, knowing it was Bella she was afraid to introduce him to.

They followed James down the hall, Andromeda never letting go of his hand. She halted and at the top of the stairs, and Harry halted with her, James going on ahead.

Bellatrix's head snapped up to look at them and she was…

She wasn't Harry expected her to be.

Nor was she deranged monster he had seen in the newspapers or wanted posters last year. At first glance, she looked remarkably like Andromeda, but her hair was darker, sleeker, and her eyes… Her eyes were very dark, from this distance they looked black, and her expression…

Hungry, wary, curious.

She reminded Harry of some semi-feral cat, looking for attention, food, but ready to bolt, ready to unsheath claws and dig a bloody way out if it had to. Her gaze honed on Andromeda, then reluctantly flicked to Harry.

If he didn't know any better, he might have said she was afraid of him.

Andromeda squeezed his hand, giving a slight tug without walking forward, asking him if he really wanted to do this.

In answer he began down the steps, she followed at his side. Andromeda's father stood tall and proud behind Bella and Narcissa. Narcissa regarded Harry coolly while their father's dark eyes were wholly stood by James' side.

When they got to the foot of the steps, Bella started toward them, but hesitated, giving Harry another near fearful look.

He let go of Andromeda's hand and Bella launched herself at her, embracing her sister with enough strength that he marveled at Andromeda's ability to stay steady on her feet.

"May I speak now?" Andromeda's father drawled in a tone that was almost painfully dry.

Narcissa and Sirius glared at him while James and Harry exchanged a confused glance.

Bella released her sister, grabbing her left hand and pressing close to Andromeda's side, Narcissa took up a spot to Bella's left. The three Black sisters squared off against their father.

He raised a brow at his daughters, waiting.

"He showed up at Malfoy Manor and asked to speak with us, but we refused to see him without you," Narcissa said coldly to Andromeda.

Andromeda said -ordered, in a voice nearly as cold, "Speak, Father."

Harry could have sworn that the older Black's lips twitched upward, but the expression was gone in a blink of an eye. "Your mother and I have annulled our marriage. Her bags are packed and she has returned to her parents' home. I am sorry to say the Rosier family is quite cross with the lot of us."

He didn't sound sorry at all, if anything, he sounded cruelly delighted, at least he did to Harry.

Sirius, Andromeda, and Narcissa gaped at him, Bella watched Andromeda's reaction like a bird of prey.

"A divorce?" Narcissa asked, her voice cracking, "You divorced her?"

He nodded.

"Wow," Sirius said, looking as if someone had just hit him over the head with a mallet, and he repeated more quietly, "wow."

Andromeda pulled away from Bella, "Does she-?"

Her father held out a hand to her, "No, my dear, that woman has no claim on you, she has nothing, no claim to anything. In legal terms, she is dead to us."

Andromeda hugged him much the same way Bella had hugged her. He held out one arm to the others and wordlessly Narcissa and Bella joined the group hug. Their father bent his head over his daughters, hiding his expression from the rooms.

Sirius was grinning, while James and Harry exchanged a shrug.

When the sisters pulled back, Andromeda turned to Harry with a smile that had his chest swelling.

She was so beautiful, warm and bright as the sun.

"Father, this is my boyfriend, Harry Potter," she introduced, "Harry, this is my father, Cygnus Black."

Cygnus extended a hand which Harry shook, "A pleasure, Mr. Potter."

"It is good to meet you, Mr. Black," Harry said formally.

Sirius snickered, Narcissa stepping toward him to slap the back of his head, he ducked bark-laughing at her.

Cygnus didn't so much smile, as his eyes crinkled, "Welcome to the less than sane family."

James bumped his shoulder against Harry's, "Potters aren't much better, to be honest with you, Sir."

It was at this point when Euphemia and Fleamont entered the room, the first thing out of Euphemia's mouth was a stern, "My sons will not be engaged before graduating from Hogwarts."

This time, Cygnus did smile. "No," he said, "no, this year is the start of breaking many a tradition, I think."

"When was the last time two purebloods got a divorce?" Sirius asked.

Euphemia and Fleamont gaped at Cygnus who answered Sirius seriously, "1705, something to do with twins I believe."

"Is divorce really that uncommon in wizarding families?" Harry asked.

"For a court sectioned divorce, yes," Bella answered, speaking to Harry for the first time. "Traditionally, if purebloods want a divorce someone winds up dead, some magical accident or another."

He blinked at her.

Cygnus chimed in -disconcertingly upbeat, "Which would have been a far easier solution, but not nearly as humiliating for my ex-wife. I think the Rosiers, Druella included, would have preferred a swift smothering in the night or even gruesome slaughter. It would have made for a memorable story."

Euphemia and Fleamont looked toward Andromeda and Harry where they were again holding hands.

Harry could almost hear them think it, Are you sure this is the family you wish to join?

Harry simply turned to Bellatrix and asked, "So, how was France?"

Bella's eyes didn't exactly warm but her expression became more open as she grinned at him, in that moment looking more like Sirius than Andromeda.

Andromeda put an arm around his waist, and it was surrounded by this crazy group of magical folk, Harry began to feel more grounded.

The students were back at school, and it broke Albus' heart to see the skittish ones, the students depressed from losing a friend or a role model.

The prefects occupied a position that touched more than just their friend group, more than just their year or even their own house.

The first years seemed cut adrift as they shuffled in packs from place to place.

The Quidditch season had been canceled as nearly half the prefects had been on their respective teams. The hole they had left in their communities yawned wide, yet it was only with their valor, theirs and a few of the older years stepping up to fight, to protect, that their losses hadn't been greater.

Albus shuddered to think what could have been. Had he been any later, even by a minute, it wouldn't have been five students who had perished, but perhaps -if they were lucky, five who survived.

It was the greatest evil, to attack children, and no one in their society, no one of any worth would support Tom now.

Albus didn't sleep much these days, and his worry for his students was a growing reality in his life, so rather than hunting a rogue dark lord, he spent much of his time reinforcing wards on the castle, on the secret passageways, as well as creating new ones on the train, on the train tracks, on Hogsmeade, and even on the Forbidden Forest.

His only comfort was that Harry Potter had been found. Yes, he was a time traveler, yes, the future he had presented was less than ideal, but Albus was determined to make a better future.

Students should never be forced to fight for their lives, but as he was learning this wasn't to say they couldn't. Shielding them from danger was a priority, but shielding them from harsh truths was delusional and counterproductive.

It was a fine balance, but he would do better, he had to.

Perhaps, it was time he hired a new History of Magic professor.

Albus watched the dawn, watched the first owl of the day deliver the Daily Prophet that would throw his world upside down.

Again.

GRINDELWALD ESCAPED FROM NURMENGARD CASTLE!

The walls felt as if they were closing in around him.

Gellert was free, loosed once more on the world.

Albus could not breathe, his weathered hands shaking as he stared into the picture of the past, at the man he had once loved.

This couldn't be happening, not now. Wasn't one dark lord enough to deal with?

Gellert was free.

What would he do? Where would he go?

What did he have left to lose? What did Gellert or Tom have left to lose?

Dangerous, there wasn't an adequate description for how dangerous either dark lord could be. Defeated, but not dead, not powerless.

Would Gellert try again for the Deathly Hollows?

Albus gripped the Elder Wand and thought of snapping it.

Fawkes sang, and Albus looked up at his familiar, he felt the tears fall down his face.

Fawkes flew to his shoulder and warbled a melody that rendered what remained of his heart.

He had said he would do better, promised himself he would be better than the man in Harry Potter's memory.

Raising his wand between both hands he broke the wand with no equal, the wand that was one-third of the equation of mastering Death.

But Death was not meant to be mastered. They all died, that's would every living thing on this planet held in common, one day, they would all die.

Phoenix song filled the room as sunshine bathed his office, setting his collection of trinkets glittering in the light.

Fawkes gently plucked the wand halves from his hand, and on the way flying back to his perch, the Elder Wand was turned to ash.

Albus looked down at the face smirking charmingly back up at him. And said and swore to himself, to Gellert, to Harry Potter, that he would do whatever it took to keep his students safe.

"For a better future," he whispered, closing his eyes and trying to think past the panic, the despair, and the slightest shimmer of traitorous relief.

AN: Reactions, thoughts, predictions, or witty remarks? Pretty, pretty please?