Summary: Forty-nine year old Harry was rather content with his life, but when his lover, Andromeda finds a way to save her sister, well, let's just say that the Dark Lord was not expecting to deal with two Harry Potter's and the loss of his favourite lieutenant. Sirius Black might not be the only Black with a cleared name and dark past. Meanwhile, for the Triwizard Champion, things might start to get a bit brighter. Time Travel, Two Potters.

[Lord Harry Black/Bellatrix Black] [Younger Harry Potter/Luna Lovegood] Sirius Black, Hedwig

Rating: T/M, possible fade out intimacy, no smut, book levels of violence.

Dyslexia: Surprise! I still have it ;D

KEYnote: As of November 2023 this story has been content edited. Please forgive my inevitable mistakes but this should run more smoothly. I will be doing a separate Fantastic Beasts story after The Delicate Art of Raising Thestrals finishes.

Chapter 1 - Your Worst Nightmare

Harry Potter, age forty-nine, was smiling as he entered his home.

He had just spent the day babysitting his first granddaughter, Magnolia Tonks Shacklebolt. Teddy had chosen to take his wife's name, first because Teddy didn't have much attachment to the name Lupin and second because Sonya Kingsley Shacklebolt was the man of the house in all but equipment.

Magnolia was four months old and had fully captured Harry's heart, making a part of him regret that he hadn't had more children aside from Teddy and the twins, Rose and James.

However, his smile instantly fell away as he entered the main room and heard the distinct sound of muffled crying.

Harry rushed to Andromeda's side, his partner in all things, where she was curled around herself on the sofa.

Her arms instantly went around him as he reached for her. Kissing her head, he began to rub her back, "Shhh, Andromeda, shhh, what's wrong? What happened?"

She pushed back from him, anger overtaking her beautiful face as she wiped the tears back with a harsh gesture. Andromeda's words were thick with emotions and an undercurrent of rage, "I brewed the cure to the Longbottoms."

Harry blinked at her, "Andromeda… that's wonderful, why-"

"It worked!" Andromeda exclaimed, standing to her feet and began to pace the hall, "It worked, Harry!"

Confusion overcame him as he remained where he was watching her and asked slowly, "Why is this a bad thing?"

Andromeda spun on him, her hair wild around her shoulders. Her dress was a rich burgundy she had donned to enter the Wizarding World, "It worked. The Longbottoms came back to themselves, they still remembered, there is still much emotionally they need to recover from but thephysical scars caused by the torture and trauma were healed. The rest is up to them and what the family can do for them."

"That is excellent," Harry said, "But then why-"

"Because it would have worked for her too!" Andromeda nearly screamed at him.

He went still and asked, "For your sister?"

Fresh tears spilled from Andromeda's dark eyes, "It's how I knew what needed to be fixed. Harry… what our mother did to us, to Bella… she was never the most stable person, but she wasn't always broken. Bella adored Sirius once, did you know that? I'm not sure Siri remembered, he was so young then. But Bella was… caring, overachieving, curious about everything, and brilliant."

Harry had heard things about Bellatrix from both Narcissa and Andromeda over the years, but something felt different in this moment, so he said nothing to interrupt as she revealed things he wasn't sure he wanted to hear.

"She was, however, absurdly powerful, to such a degree that her magic sometimes overwhelmed her. After one of our mother's last 'punishments', our father finally, finally stepped in. But it was too late, there was nothing the healers could do for her, and Bella who was once such a happy and wild spirit, became prone to violent outbursts and surges of accidental magic that could shake the foundation of the house." She looked at him, "Do you know what an Obscurial is?"

He nodded, "It comes from suppressing one's magic, no?"

"In children, yes, but Bella wasn't little, she was sixteen, and her magic… it was like she became the obscurial. My father found an old family relic, two bracelets, one he gave to me and the other he gave to her. I'm not sure what their original purpose was, but what they did was create a bond between magical beings. For the one, she was unable to use her magic except with my conscious permission, which I could give with nary a thought, to my own bracelet. It kept us connected, it doubled our powers and it didn't suppress her magic as long as I used mine. She could feel it whenever I used magic, you see."

Harry tilted his head, "That's actually rather brilliant. But why didn't you use them in the war?"

A look of shame came over her face, "She was older than me, and she stayed close to home through our and my school years. It worked well through those years. But her husband…" Andromeda sighed, "there was nothing any of us could have done short of murdering Rodolphus, which I sincerely regret not doing."

"He took the bracelet off her," Harry guessed.

Andromeda sighed and came back to sit beside him, "No, I did."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Because she couldn't defend herself without my permission, and because…" Andromeda touched her stomach, "I was pregnant with Nymphadora. I was going to move to the muggle world and Bella… I gave my bracelet to Narcissa. But Bella saw it as a betrayal. She stopped Narcissa from wearing it and forced Narcissa to remove hers as well. And well, I suppose you know the rest of my sister's story."

Harry reached out to hold her hand, "You think this potion could have made a difference?"

Andromeda looked up at him, "I don't think my sister was imperioused or manipulated to do the things she did. Nor do I think she didn't believe in Pureblood fanaticism. But my sister wasn't a sadist, she wasn't cruel for cruelty's sake. I remember how much she used to love me and Narcissa. I remember the hours she would spend playing on the floor with Siri and Reggie when no one, myself and our mothers included, wanted anything to do with them."

After having spent the day with his granddaughter in his arms, Harry felt his expression soften, he squeezed Andromeda's hands, "I'm so sorry, Andromeda."

She closed her dark eyes, "My mother and her husband tortured her long before Voldemort got his hands on her. And I-" she looked off into the distance, "I left her. Abandoned her." She reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out a piece of parchment and two black metal bracelets, "But if I had stayed… she could have had a chance."

Harry's hand covered hers over the recipe to the cure and two bracelets.

"What did you name it?" he asked softly, resting his forehead against hers.

She opened her eyes, their closeness making the eye contact incredibly intimate.

"The Belladonna Cure."

"The main ingredient?" he asked, wondering if it was the herb itself she had used even as he lowered her lips to hers.

"Deadly Nightshade," Andromeda spoke the words over his lips before closing the space between them.

Harry would never not love this woman, this witch who had walked through the darkness with to find a life worth living.

When they pulled back, she blinked up at him, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.

"Andromeda?"

"Harry," she said thickly, "I know that this is unforgivable, but I know you will find happiness again."

Confusion swept over him as her hands closed over his, the metal rings going so cold in his hands they burned.

And in a flood of magic, Harry watched the light dissipate from her eyes as the metal in their hands spread ice temperatures into his hands, through his bones, filling him as if he had been dropped into a vat of liquid nitrogen.

And his entire world and vision went completely black.

When his eyes finally opened.

It was night, he was outside, there were torches, and lots and lots of people.

Harry blinked.

He was no longer in his house.

He was pretty sure he had just seen the love of his life die, and he wasn't entirely certain that he hadn't died either.

Where was he?

Shaking his head, he took in a breath and tried to look around him, taking stock.

The first person he noticed was Luna.

Why were they sitting on bleachers with a bunch of students?

Wasn't it summer?

Were they on the Hogwarts ground?

"Luna?" he croaked.

Luna turned and Harry startled so hard he jerked and nearly dropped the paper and two metal bands in his hands.

"Harry?" she asked.

Harry could only gawk.

It was definitely Luna. She had to be Luna Lovegood.

Only…

Only she looked about twelve.

Harry stood, and to his horror, he finally registered what he was before them all.

A hedgerow.

More specifically, the maze.

Andromeda's words came back to him.

I know that this is unforgivable, but I know you will find happiness again.

And that odd conversation they had had last night.

If you could go back, if you could save Sirius and face Voldemort as an adult, fight the war as you are now, would you?

Harry Potter had one too many crazy things happen to him to doubt the reality in front of him.

Even if he was praying that he was dreaming rather than Andromeda finding some way of time travelling.

Cursing under his breath, he placed the bracelets in his breast pocket and pulled his wand.

He tapped the recipe of the Belladonna Cure in his hand to duplicate it. He pocketed one and passed a second one to Luna.

Luna took it, her eyes scanning and her brows shooting up, and Harry said, "Don't lose that, Ms. Lovegood, it could save many lives one day."

Then he was making his way down the bleachers.

His heart hurt as his eyes scanned over the familiar figures.

Many hadn't survived the war.

Many, many, more hadn't followed the price to be paid in the aftermath.

The Lost Generations.

Harry spotted Neville Longbottom, he still had his baby-face and looked bored as stone as he waited with the crowd that was gossiping with everyone but him.

Luckily for Harry, he was sitting at the end of a row.

Harry knelt so they were at eye level, "Neville?"

The young boy startled, "Hello? Who are you?"

Harry smiled tightly and handed the boy a copy of the Belladonna Cure to him. "I'm a DADA professor," Harry answered before lowering his voice to keep the other kids from hearing, "Give this to the healers caring for your parents."

Neville took it with a frown, "What?"

But Harry was already taking the final steps.

He saw Ron sitting with Hermione, and Harry's heart broke.

If you could change the past, would you?

He had said yes.

Harry cursed and tapped Dumbledore on the shoulder, the man spun on him, his eyebrows climbing to the rim of his outrageous hat, "James Potter?"

Harry shook his head, "When did they go in?"

"What?"

"When did the Champions go in?" Harry asked, more slowly.

"An hour ago," Dumbledore answered, "Who-?"

"Alastor Moody is trapped in a trunk in the DADA office and your teacher who has been teaching your students is Barty Crouch Jr.. He's a Death Eater using this tournament to resurrect Voldemort and murder Harry Potter."

Albus gaped at him.

For a moment, Harry enjoyed that expression, before he turned and sprinted into the maze. Albus's shock and the other professor's confusion, giving him the time to enter unimpeded.

Plus, he wasn't exactly slow on his feet, he might have been in his late forties but Harry wasn't out of shape. He also didn't pause as he began to undo the spellwork that had erected the hedges. Just the hedges, revealing the monsters and the traps behind.

It wasn't a wise thing to do really, as Hagrid had definitely done his job. Suddenly, the bored crowd began to scream as the 'challenges' began to pose a challenge to the staff, students, and their parents.

Harry cursed himself for hesitating as he watched from yards away one of his worst nightmares and biggest regrets play out before his eyes.

But he acted anyway, even if it was too late, he pointed his wand to shoot the cup back.

Cedric's hand missed the handle, Harry freaking Potter, however, was an excellent Seeker, and he leant forward to catch the cup. He was wrenched from space for his trouble to out cry of the speaking.

Harry the Elder, came to a halt. He had still been figuring out how to apparate off Hogwarts grounds, like Dumbledore, in recent years.

He hadn't gotten the trick of it yet. So, instead, he searched for something…

Or someone.

"Excuse me, Sphinx?" Harry called.

The cat woman creature paused in her meandering, "Yes, wizard?"

"I don't mean to offend but might I have a ride to the border?"

She tilted her head, and sat back on her hind legs, then asked:

"It cannot be seen, cannot be felt,

Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt.

It lies behind stars and under hills,

And empty holes it fills.

It comes out first and follows after,

Ends life, kills laughter."

"Darkness," Harry answered without hesitation.

The Sphinx's smile was predatory, yet she lowered herself to the ground and Harry didn't waste time as he climbed her back and said, "Thank you so much."

"I couldn't pass up a chance to perhaps eat you," she replied, before taking off in a sprint toward the border of the Hogwarts grounds as absolute pandemonium broke out behind him.

oOo

Harry watched Voldemort, newly risen, raving as he paced, his red eyes darting from grave to grave.

"Listen to me, reliving family history..." he said quietly, "why, I am growing quite sentimental...But look, Harry! My true family returns..."

The air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks. Between graves, behind the yew tree, in every shadowy space, wizards were Apparating. All of them were hooded and masked. And one by one, they moved forward...slowly, cautiously, as though they could hardly believe their eyes. Voldemort stood in silence, waiting for them.

And then someone who wore normal wizarding clothing snapped into being before Harry.

"Hey, Voldy, looking as horrid as ever, I see," that voice struck Harry as both kind and confident.

Completely unafraid of the monsters he stood in front of.

Voldemort spun on them, his red eyes going wide, and he breathed, "It cannot be."

The man laughed, "I know. Isn't it just a pain when your enemies don't stay dead?"

Voldemort hissed, "James Potter."

Harry's heart nearly stopped in his chest.

But the man, whose hand was holding his wand at his back, said, "A relative of mine, of course, but no, I'm not James."

Harry swallowed hard, hope fleeing him.

Nearly a dozen Death Eaters and Voldemort versus Harry and this strange wizard, who twisted his wrist and the ropes dropped from around Harry.

Voldemort snarled, "Who are you?"

Harry could hear the smile in the man's voice, "Your worst nightmare."

What followed was the most impressive wand work Harry had ever witnessed, the man cutting the air with his wand, pulling up the stones from the earth to meet Voldemort's screamed Avada Kedavras and the other Death Eaters began to attack the man.

That single man struck out counter curses as fast as he brought his wand up in defence.

Two of the Death Eaters dropped, whether dead or otherwise, Harry couldn't tell, but he winced as stone debris began to blow back, time and time again, after each Unforgivable curse was blocked. Which was when Voldemort switched to other curses, and Harry watched one of the strongest shield charms he had ever personally witnessed appear as the man bellowed, "Protego!"

The first spell he had spoke out loud.

The man spun, taking Harry with him as he rolled behind the tombstone and then-

Like the cup, Harry felt himself tugged impossibly through space.

Where they landed next was not at all where Harry would have thought.

He blinked at the streetlights, and asked, looking up at the man who had just gone up against Voldemort to save him, "Where- where are we?"

"London," the man said, checking their surroundings, "Good, I don't think they followed us. But let's move, never stay in one place unless it is truly secure."

Harry hurried to catch up to him, "Thank you, sir, for saving me."

"You are most welcome, Mr. Potter," the man said, flashing him a smile.

Harry nearly tripped over the cobblestones. He looked like his father.

But under the streetlights, Harry saw the grey streaks in his hair, this man was too old to be his father, older than Sirius even.

Though for an old guy, Harry had to nearly run to catch up, "Where are we going?"

"I'm taking you home," he said.

That was an unnerving answer. One, because Harry didn't live in London, two, if this man was taking him back to Hogwarts, why were they in London? Three, if he was taken back to the Dursleys early, he was going to break something.

Four, why was he following a stranger through the night?

Oh, right, because he owed this man his life.

"Who are you?" Harry asked.

The man stopped dead and turned to look down at him, he observed Harry for a moment before he said, "Harris Magnolia Black, it is wonderful to make your acquaintance, Mr. Harry James Potter. And this is number 12, Grimmauld Place."

Then Harris Black took a step to the side, and an apartment jumped into being.

Harry stared at him and couldn't stop himself from asking, "You think this is my home?"

Harris grinned, "Home is where the loved ones are."

Harry was still confused, "You're related to my dad and the Blacks?"

Harris smiled wider as he pulled Harry up to the stoop, "I'm not a pureblood, I'm just a bastard child lost in time."

And then Harris Magnolia Black disapparated, leaving Harry standing on the stoop of Grimmauld Place.

Harry wasn't sure what to think, but he didn't want to linger on this lonesome street at night, so he began knocking on the door.

The door was yanked open a moment and a rather panic-stricken Sirius Black stared down at him. Confusion passed over his face, and then…

Harry found himself wrapped in the tightest hug he could ever remember, and he clung onto his godfather just as fiercely.

"Oh, Harry," Sirius said into his hair without letting go, "Harry, I am so glad you're safe. I just heard- but you're here. You're safe."

Harry sank into that moment of safety, that moment in which someone just loved him for him. Someone who cared for his well being and was happy to welcome him home.

Home truly was where the loved ones were.

oOo

AN: Feedback, thoughts, ideas, events you wish to occur in this story, and yes, my artistic process is writing a bunch of stories at once, so any orcas to add to the pod?