Henry was sitting at the U table, having dinner with what seemed to be his forgotten family. None of them were related to him, but that didn't seem to matter.

Suddenly the portrait up there opened and everyone turned to look at the newcomers. One of them had red hair and Henry recognized him as one of the Weasley brothers, the one with the long hair and disfigured face. He was carrying a little girl in his arms, a beautiful thing with hair the strangest shade of salmon. Henry wondered if the girl was another Metamorphmagus.

Behind them there came a woman with grey hair and aristocratic features, and a man growing bald with the kindest expression Henry had ever seen in a person. He looked even kinder than Remus, if that was possible. A kid made its way between them and ran down the stairs.

"Mum! Dad!" he yelled, flying across the room with a huge smile on his face while his hair changed colour with every step. Well, that kid was definitely a Metamorphmagus, no question. And, of course, he went to crash against Tonks, who was obviously his mother and who immediately began to scold him for recklessly running down the stairs. The boy, of around six or seven if Henry was any judge —which he wasn't—, entirely ignored the scolding and instead went to find his father. Remus took him in his arms so fiercely that Henry feared he might asphyxiate the kid. It was understandable, however, after having risked his life this morning.

The boy finally disentangled himself and looked seriously at his father.

"What's wrong, Dad?" he asked, all happiness forgotten.

Remus put himself together quickly and smiled.

"Nothing wrong, son. I just missed you so much! Come, there's someone I want you to meet."

Henry was nervous. He had never had much contact with kids —that he remembered—, and he feared a child would not understand that he wasn't ready to answer questions yet. He seemed too young to have met him, however, so maybe he wouldn't know who he was.

"Jamie, this is Harry. Harry, this is my son James."

"Nice to meet you, sir," said the kid politely. Then his jaw dropped and his eyes widened comically.

Henry had never seen someone react in such a funny way to the sight of him —or more precisely of his scar, he guessed—, but he held his amusement. It was a bit uncomfortable, too.

"Nice to meet you too, James."

Remus laughed.

"Close your mouth, Jamie. It's rude to stare, you know that. Yes, this is Harry Potter."

"But... He's dead!"

"That's what we thought. But he's not. You can't tell anyone that you met him, though. It's a secret, do you understand?"

The boy nodded, still staring at Henry in awe.

Thankfully, Tonks appeared just then to take her son away, smiling at Henry apologetically before departing.

Remus sat next to Henry.

"Sorry about that," he said. "It's harder to explain to children."

"I understand," said Henry. "He seems like a nice kid."

The man smiled.

"He is. He's named after you, you know."

"Me? But... My name is Harry."

People exchanged more glances.

"Your middle name is James, Harry," explained Remus gently. "So was your father's name. Jamie is named after the two of you. We thought naming him Harry would be too painful."

Henry nodded, not knowing what to say. He supposed he should feel honoured, but he just felt weird. And he didn't know what to make of the second name he had just discovered he had. As he searched for something to say to change the subject, his eyes fell on the little girl with the salmon hair. It was mesmerizing.

"So... Is she your daughter too?"

Remus startled, his eyes darting to the girl and then exchanging a look with the redhead of the disfigured face, who laughed.

"No, Harry," the redhead said. "Victoire is my daughter."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I just thought, with the hair..."

"That's all right. We get that a lot. She's not a Metamorphmagus, that's just her natural hair colour. Apparently it's what happens when you mix up a Veela and a Weasley."

Now Henry's mouth dropped, causing several laughs around the table.

"A Veela?"

"Stop bragging, Bill," complained Gred or Forge.

"Yeah, Fleur wasn't a full Veela," said the other one.

Bill smiled smugly.

"She was Veela enough. You never saw her truly angry, nor truly..."

"Bill!" Molly intervened before the conversation could get more out of hand.

The exchange between Bill and the twins was funny, but Henry found hard to join in the laugh as he stared at the little girl and realized that she didn't have a mother. They had talked of the part Veela as if she was no longer with them, so she must be dead. What had happened to her? Had she been killed in the war? Could Henry have prevented her loss if he had not gone away to obliviousness? He felt terrible. Maybe Harry Potter could have ended the war years ago —unlikely as that seemed—, which would mean that everyone who had died while he was away...

Swallowing a knot of guilt, Henry looked away, only to regret it when his eyes fell on Ginny. She was sitting a few places away, gently cradling little Michael, Neville by her side making hypnotic shapes appear in the air with his wand to try to put the newborn to sleep. They were both smiling at the tiny ball of cuteness, sometimes exchanging tender looks that seemed extremely intimate. Henry knew that Michael wasn't their baby, but looking at them he thought with a pang that he easily could be. For all he knew, they could be married, Henry didn't know and didn't want to ask. They might have a child of their own. Ginny certainly seemed to know her way around a baby.

"Harry?" a voice distracted him from his miserable contemplation. It took him a moment to realize that he was Harry. He painfully wrenched his eyes from Ginny and focused in whoever had spoken to him. It was the bald man that had just arrived with Bill and the others. He was sitting across the table, looking at him with kindness and sadness. It was becoming a very familiar expression to Henry.

"Yes?" he asked, voice a little rough.

"Would you like to take a walk with me?" the strange man asked. "I could show you around, if you haven't had the tour yet."

Henry hesitated. He didn't know the man at all, and it was becoming harder and harder to ignore the fact that he had been unacceptably reckless in the last twenty four hours by lowering his guard in the presence of a bunch of strangers. He knew, in theory, that he was safe, but his father's voice kept ringing in his ears scolding him for trusting people he had never seen before. People who had made a prisoner of his father, no less.

"It's all right, Harry," said Remus putting a reassuring hand in his shoulder. "Ted's a good one. And you really don't need to be afraid of anyone in here. You don't have to go with him if you don't want to, though. We all understand if you don't feel comfortable."

Henry felt reassured. It was good to know that he had a choice, and that he wouldn't offend anyone by saying no. At least he hoped not. He looked at the bald man again, kindness mixed with concern in his eyes. He didn't trigger any sort of subconscious feelings in Henry, but he did seem like a 'good one'. And so far everyone had been kind and safe here. Henry didn't want to miss the chance to meet another person from his forgotten past.

"All right," he said at last.

The man smiled and immediately rose to his feet.

"This way, then, Harry. I'll see you later in our quarters, honey."

This was directed to the aristocratic woman, who despite the sharpness of her features smiled at Henry almost as kindly as her maybe husband.

Henry was relieved to leave everyone else behind. He couldn't stand the sight of Ginny and the baby now, nor of the little motherless girl.

"This must be overwhelming, Harry," commented the man as they walked out of the big Hall. Henry just nodded. "My name is Ted Tonks. We never met in person before."

"Oh," Henry hadn't expected that. He had assumed they had known each other. "Hum... Tonks, you said? Like... Tonks?"

The man laughed.

"Yes. She's my daughter. Her name is Nymphadora, actually, but she hates the name so everyone has to call her Tonks if they don't wish to get on her bad side."

Henry felt more at ease. Tonks was all right, so he supposed her father must be all right too. He wondered if the man was a Metamorphmagus too. The trait usually ran in the families.

"You haven't had the tour yet, then?"

"Hum... Not really. I've only been in the bedroom I slept in, and in a training room. Although I'm not entirely sure I could find them again."

"You probably couldn't," the man agreed. "This place is a maze, and it often... moves."

Henry wasn't too surprized by this. He had already noticed the changes in the big Hall, and magic was extraordinary, after all. He still felt a bit incredulous and amazed whenever he saw or experienced magic, even after all these years. He suspected he must have felt the same in his previous life.

Ted Tonks led him through a series of stairs and hallways, indicating doors and explaining briefly what they were.

"Those are the kitchens... Those are the guests dorms... Through that stair you access the permanent quarters of the main officers, except Granger's, of course... That's the Children's door..."

"Children's door?" asked Henry, looking at the indicated door with curiosity.

"Yes. There is a whole complex on the other side dedicated to raising and educating our magical children. Only people of age can cross that door, and only... well, only us. I'm afraid you won't be able to pass unless someone takes you. I could show you, but..."

"That's all right," said Henry quickly, nervous at the prospect of meeting a bunch of kids. "Another day, maybe."

The man smiled.

"Yes, children can be... challenging. This way, then."

They continued their tour, passing an infirmary, a potion's lab, several more training rooms and even what seemed to be a huge dome with artificially illuminated greenhouses.

"Wow," he gasped at the sight. "I had never seen something like this. Why do you keep this inside? Wouldn't it be better natural light?"

"It would be. It's not safe outside, however. Of course, we have facilities out in the open, but only this place is completely secure."

Henry was being reminded of Muggle movies about the end of the world, with military facilities underground. He supposed it couldn't be helped in the current situation of open war. It was a relief to see that the rebels weren't so completely on the losing side. They obviously had resources and were well organized.

They kept walking. Ted —he asked Henry to call him that, as to avoid confusion with his daughter— showed him again the way to his bedroom, telling him that it would be permanently his for the moment. He also indicated the direction of the restraining cells for prisoners, although he didn't take him to them. Henry felt an ungrateful son when he turned his back on the door that must lead to his father. He wasn't his father, though... Alistair Prince wasn't real.

"And this is the Command Room," explained Ted. "No one is allowed in without permission. I'm sure you will be summoned here soon, however."

Henry peered from the door and saw a huge room bursting with activity. One of the walls was completely covered by some sort of architectural plan over which little dots with labels kept moving around. There was a young witch constantly watching that wall and taking notes in an endless roll of parchment. Another wall showed the same chart with names and dates and addresses that appeared in the big Hall. Henry had already noticed before that the address had disappeared from Michael Roberts' line. There were other names down the list without addresses, and also entire lines crossed out.

The left wall held an enormous map of Europe covered by arrows and circles and moving dots. His former best friend, the Legilimens with the bushy hair, was standing in front of it discussing with other people and occasionally pointing at the map with a frightening frown on her face.

This was where the war was being fought, Henry realized. And it was clearly a much more complicated and widespread effort than he had ever imagined.

He walked back before anyone could see him there. He didn't feel ready to be completely absorbed into the war. Henry knew he would have to do it soon, but... For the moment, he was grateful he was being given time to adjust. Fighting in the war was an entire different prospect now that he was Harry Potter.