The ReminiscenceImperialPotterSummary:In the year after he lost his godfather, Harry has nothing left. So alone is he that if he died, Harry is sure that not a soul would truly miss him. But in his grief and turmoil, he meets someone and gets the chance of a lifetime - to choose a different life, a different world, make different choices, and live his life on his own terms. Is this truly the world of his dreams?
4th year AU! Alive!Potters, BAMF Potter & Black Family, Dark!Harry, Ruthless!Harry, Time travel (but not exactly), Harry/Multi, Lemons.
Chapter 1: PrologueChapter TextIt was a particularly cold day on which Harry Potter woke to the sound of familiar bickering of his two friends. Even within the comfort of his bed, he was shivering from cold and something else that he couldn't name. While waiting for the argument to end, he couldn't help but reflect on how he'd come to be where he was, trying to hide from the world while wallowing in self-pity and disgust.
Mere thoughts of what he'd endured put a shiver through him and he realized ashamedly for the hundredth time that it was his own incompetence that had brought him here.
His parents were dead through the incompetence and machinations of Dumbledore and he continued to suffer under his relatives in the aftermath. Hogwarts had seemed like salvation when his letter had arrived and then he'd been too elated to leave Surrey into the welcoming arms of the secret world of magic. And then he'd come to realize, although belatedly, that the monicker of 'freak' that his relatives had assigned him purely out of spite had come true in this strange new world as well. Here, he was the freak who had survived the impossible and was thus heralded for adventures and accomplishments by the ignorant public that wizards thrice his age and experience couldn't boast. And in the middle of all this was his schooling at the magical castle, the one where he had found a new home.
It had been supposed to be his sanctuary, his true home away from his childhood prison and it had been thus for the longest time. But a series of misadventures and tragedies had utterly defeated him.
And now, he had nothing left.
His parents had been lost sixteen years ago. His godfather had been lost a year ago. His best friend, the girl, nay, the woman he'd come to care for much more than a friend, had become distant and jealous of his sudden competency in a subject he'd always been poor at and his other friend had more time to suck his new busty girlfriend's tonsils out than anything else. Not the mention his constant jealousy at anything Harry was good at, and more recently, he and his sister's horrible conspiracy against him that Harry had accidentally come to discover.
"Get out! I don't need another one of your lectures right now! And you shouldn't even be here! This is the boys dormitory!" Apparently, his perpetually jealous friend had had enough.
Hermione huffed and then began another one of her rants about the responsibilities of Prefects and how Ron was breaking a dozen different rules in spending so much time with Lavender.
Harry tried and failed to burrow deeper into his quilt to drown out their voices but to no avail. And neither did he dare to remove himself from his bed since his presence could alert them both and inadvertently bring him into their spats. He had neither the time nor the patience for their childish jealousies and tantrums.
Perhaps, he could use his cloak?
Harry carefully and noiselessly slid one leg from his bed onto the ground on the other side of Ron's bed and waited with baited breath for any indication of whether they'd registered his presence. They hadn't. He slid further from the quilt onto the warm carpet and immediately crouched low beside the bed. His trunk lay open in front of him and his cloak glistened in the faint moonlight streaming from the window.
The common room was blissfully empty and for a long minute, Harry debated taking refuge in one of those comfortable chairs by the crackling fireplace. As he warred with his decision, a lone figure emerged from the shadows and startled him.
"Hello?"
Neville Longbottom was looking around at the empty space around him, looking tired. Harry decided that a simple hello to his friend wouldn't go amiss so he uncovered his head.
"Hey Neville, I...er couldn't sleep," he explained pitifully.
Neville seemed to lean away from the back of his chair and rubbed his eyes.
"I'm just delaying walking upstairs to avoid Hermione and Ron."
Harry grimaced, but nodded, most willing to understand why his friend wouldn't want to come between his two best friends when they were having one of their...moments.
"I'm sorry," Harry didn't know what else to say or do.
Neville shook his head. "You have nothing to apologize for, Harry. It's not your fault. Are you leaving?"
Harry shrugged, struggling with himself. His mind was suddenly conjuring a dozen different things he had to apologize for and he just couldn't form the words to make his contrition apparent enough to a friend who had stood by him even when his two best friends tested his patience and had all but abandoned him.
Instead, he simply gave a curt nod. "I'm sorry for everything."
Neville looked confused but Harry didn't wait for him to say anything.
Less than a minute later, he was running away from the Gryffindor tower, leaving a confused Fat Lady behind as she tried to determine just who had she allowed to pass in the middle of the night.
---
The Room of Requirements was in its usual element, the enclosed space containing auror-training dummies ready to fire lethal curses at their willing victim. Harry closed the door and took his stance. Training to be a better wizard was the only thing that could take his mind off the failure that was his life.
It's now or never, he told himself. If he didn't work on himself at this point in his life, which he could argue was his lowest, he didn't think he could ever hope to come out of the incoming conflict alive. And conflict it will be, for Voldemort and his supporters will come knocking as soon as whatever nefarious plans they'd been concocting in the meantime bore completion.
Soon, his mind was devoid of thoughts as adrenaline filled him and his body began to dance in between curses that would pale in comparison to the ones his little Ministry-raiding group had been subjected to last year.
To think that he considered Cruciatus as the most horrible curse in existence, he laughed bitterly to himself. Up until a year ago, he'd been an innocent, ignorant and incompetent fool.
A malevolent gray curse almost grazed his earlobe and he chided himself. It would be just like him to forget his surroundings in the middle of a fight and fall prey to an unknown curse from one of his masked enemies.
As his wand obliterated a dummy after another, he silently cast a cooling charm on himself, wanting nothing more to take greedy gulps of water lying on the table well within his reach but outside the training enclosure. But he resisted. It's not as if he could satisfy his body's urges so easily in the middle of a battlefield. Although the burn in his calves was a stark reminder of his unfit body, he got up once again and fired a curse at the dummy standing in the middle of the enclosure, which in turn immediately began to replicate around him as its copies surrounded him on all side with no hint of escape.
Well, no escape except kill or be killed.
Harry realized only eighteen gruelling minutes later that he was now completely spent. He had just enough energy left to walk back to his dorm and get into his waiting bed. He couldn't think of anything else more inviting, not even a visit to the kitchens to get himself some late-night snack. Pulling his freshly laundered shirt over his torso, he exited the Room, making sure to check the Map to avoid any stray students. He'd had enough of the gawping and whispering to last seven lifetimes, especially after last year.
However, before he'd even taken a step outside the fifth-floor corridor, he felt his body recoil from a sudden shock, his arms going limp at his sides as if suddenly wrenched from within his control.
Before he could so much as panic at his complete loss of motor ability, he was dragged unceremoniously back into the Room of Requirement, the door closing behind him eliciting a surreal feeling of hopelessness and shame within his stumped mind.
Now, his utterly exhausted body was at the mercy of some student with a grudge, probably a Slytherin whose parents had suffered in the Ministry last year. He didn't anticipate any easy solution to his latest misadventure. He was tired, kidnapped by someone who he had wronged, in the middle of the night when all the staff had retired, in a wing of the castle that next to nobody knew about.
He felt hollow. Was this the end?
What use had been his training after all?
---
"There is no need to panic, Harry. I'm just here for a chat and... an opportunity."
The voice was surprisingly soft and devoid of malice. Harry took in his attacker and tried to remember where he'd seen such a strange mask but came up blank. The voice did seem familiar but his mind could be playing tricks on him, as could the charms that would've modified his voice to any number of degree.
There was no telling who was behind that mask and Harry pushed his panic deep into his rudimentary Occluded mindscape with herculean effort.
"Who are you?"
His attacker seemed to consider it for a moment before he shook his head.
"I'm afraid I can't reveal that right now."
Harry forced himself to concentrate on the words of his attacker and saw some meagre hope. Did he mean that he will reveal himself later? Later when? When he'd gotten his revenge?
Harry blinked and suddenly realized that only his facial muscles seemed to be within his control. The warm glow from a nearby lamp sought his eyes and he exhaled. The Room seemed to have taken the form of a study, with a sizeable ornate desk and a comfortable chair, a sofa, and a large bookshelf adorning the three walls. Harry realized he was slumped against the fourth wall, looking at his attacker who was sitting on the edge of the sofa.
"What do you want?"
His attacker leaned forward. "That is a good question."
Harry gulped as the mask practically melded into his attackers face, his lips turning upwards into something that resembled a smirk.
"Tell me Harry, are you happy with your life?"
His brain working in overdrive, Harry tried and failed to understand how to answer the silly yet weighted question. It was in futility that he shrugged the strange question out of the way before settling on the bigger, more pertinent thing before him. Namely, his freedom.
"What do you want from me?" he rasped.
"Answer the question, Harry."
Harry tried to shake his head but his muscles refused to obey. Failing in this simple endeavour, he simply chose to glare at his tormentor instead.
"Yes! I'm extremely happy with my life! I'm so happy that if you kill me right now, there's not a single person that will miss me."
"How did it come to this point?" he was asked without delay. Harry struggled to know if his attacker was simply apathetic or this was just an exercise in his humiliation.
Once more he struggled to free himself but neither his body nor his magic obeyed. He'd had enough.
"Well?" His tormentor prompted when the silence had stretched enough.
Harry glared with all his might. "Why don't you just kill me and be done with it? What's with these questions? You want to know how much I've failed in life before you kill me?"
With supreme self-control, Harry stopped struggling and chose that waiting for the inevitable was better than struggling against his traitorous body or betraying his life's worst failures to this cruel stranger.
It could've been minutes or even hours before he heard a voice other than his own and hurried to open his eyes, not recalling when he'd closed them in the first place.
"I'm not gonna hurt you, Harry."
Not knowing what to do or say, Harry chose to remain silent and looked askance at his attacker, one who had conveniently forgotten that he had paralyzed and dragged him to the secluded Room against his will.
His attacker seemed to sense it and sighed. Harry, when he'd chosen to act out hadn't known what consequences his reticence would bring, but was immensely thankful when his attacker waved his wand and suddenly, his arms were free.
Immediately, his wand was aimed at his tormentor who seemed to be struggling with himself.
Harry's shouts and taunts remained unanswered as his kidnapper chose that moment to remove his mask.
His eyes bugged out and his wand clattered noisily on the floor beside his useless legs as he struggled to make sense of what he was seeing.
"Hello Harry, it's nice to meet you. You can call me Harry."
---
Years upon years of memories passed before his eyes and his heart stuttered with a mixture of fear and hope.
He had forgotten how many times he'd pinched himself in an effort to convince himself that it was real and not a dream designed to torture his soul in the cruelest of ways. He'd scarcely believed it when he'd looked at the unmasked, alive, breathing and healthier version of himself. He'd gaped and sat there stunned for minutes before his brain had started working again.
While the motivation behind the other Harry's decision for them to watch each other's memories was still a mystery, Harry hoped that what he was seeing was indeed real and that somewhere, in another world, he'd had a different life.
It was not only different, but a complete opposite of the life he'd lived. So different that Harry ached to have it for himself.
When he was ejected back into the Room of Requirement, Harry blinked away that tears that were threatening to fall. Taking command of his last kernel of strength, he faced his attacker, the Harry who'd been gifted such a beautiful life and spoke in a tone that betrayed his anger and a volatile concoction of emotions that he didn't know how to handle.
"Why? What do you want with me?"
The other Harry shrugged and he simply watched himself pace near the hearth, muttering to himself with his face set in a blank mask that revealed nothing.
"Do you wish that you had the life that you've just seen?"
His arms at his sides in barely controlled anger, he spat, "Is this a joke? Why are you doing this to me? What do you want?"
His attacker looked at him with pity.
"Do you wish that you had the life that you've just seen?" he repeated.
Harry glared at him, his fury barely restrained against such an unfeeling question. "Have a life where my parents are alive and well and I have a family? Where I have a brother and sisters and I'm not the Boy-Who-Lived? Where my godfather, no, my godparents are alive and care for me? Is that what you're asking? I'd kill to have that life!"
The other Harry stopped pacing. Harry saw him come closer and regard him with an intensity that made the hair on the back on his neck stand.
"You can have it then. My life. And I'll take yours."
Harry watched stunned as his doppelganger closed his eyes and a large wooden cupboard materialized in the corner of the room.
"This is the gateway to the life that you want."
Harry struggled to understand why he was being given such a gift. It was insanity. Sheer insanity to give up what he'd only gotten a glimpse of, and to do it willingly!
"Why? Don't you love your parents? Your family? Why would you give that up? I wouldn't give it up for anything!"
His words seemed to have little effect on his counterpart. His face remained inscrutable.
"You've only seen a glimpse of what my life has been. You haven't lived it. When you get there, read my journals and you'll know. Then, I'm not sure you'll be so thankful."
Harry took a deep breath, trying to understand just what could've been so bad about living in a world where he had people that cared about him that this other Harry wanted to leave his world for one where he wouldn't have anyone.
Still, he didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth. If this was seriously happening, he was all for it. Never in his dreams had he imagined such a thing and here he was, on the precipice of exchanging his world for another. And not just any world, it was a world where his deepest wishes were answered in full.
What could be so devastating that his counterpart hated his life? Harry thought about his own life up to this point and grimaced. There was nothing waiting for him in this life. Even his friends, ones that he'd thought were his true friends had been more self-serving than he'd ever thought and every single person he'd cared about had been lost to death. The year before in which he'd lost Sirius felt like the beginning of the end, his soul had been shattered in ways that he couldn't explain. And now, he was being given a way to get it all, and more, back.
"Do you want to proceed?"
He was jerked back to the present where the other Harry was waving his wand on the cupboard.
"Yes."
"Good. Now, there are a few things that you need to know."
---
Harry woke up to find himself in the familiar study in the Room of Requirement, now empty of its other occupant. His body ached everywhere as he stood up and dusted his shirt.
In the dim luminance of the lamp, he could swear he'd woken up exactly where he'd been apprehended, now doubtful whether all he'd seen, dreamed and remembered had been real.
But there was only one way to find out.
He left the Room and found himself in an identical corridor. The door disappeared just as he walked towards the stairs and saw the expanse of the castle before him.
Disillusioning himself, he walked in the direction of the Gryffindor Tower, his brain cautioning and urging him to be careful as in this world, if it was indeed a new world he was now inhabiting, Harry Potter was a Slytherin student. But thankfully, he already knew the password to every House, courtesy of Harry2.
He breathed a sigh of relief when the common room was empty of most students, only a few younger years loitering around. Grabbing a discarded copy of the Daily Prophet from one of the sofas, he dashed back outside, now stopping only when he was safely back within the confines of the Room.
Only then did he stop and read the date: 20th June, 1994.
This was the year, that he'd been warned from Harry2, when all went to hell for him. Apparently, this was the year in which his family had been torn apart by grief, betrayal and the most horrific of all, war.
And while much of the student body and the public blamed Harry Potter for everything that had gone wrong, his family never spoke out a word against him. And that was where his grief came from: of opportunities missed, of the road not taken, of relationships that could've been, of the lives that had been saved and of the grief that could've been avoided altogether had Harry not been as much of an...ignorant little moron.
But regardless of the warnings and the apprehension, Harry knew it was his chance of a lifetime. The chance to have everything he'd ever wanted, and to live his life in a way that he'd come to realize, would give him the most contentment.
In this world, he was no longer the Gryffindor's Golden Boy, or the Boy-Who-Lived, or Dumbledore's favourite or the Saviour of the Wizarding World. He was simply Harry, the insignificant twin of the boy who'd survived the Killing Curse.
Sure, he'd live up to his full potential, not doing so was out of the question, but he'll do so in a way that suited him and him alone. No one else will dictate how he lived his life.
He was finally free. And he felt more alive than ever.
Chapter 1 - A Strange New WorldChapter TextBellatrix Black looked down at the sleeping form of her godson with a frown. Sitting at the edge of the bed, she removed some of the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead as she took in his youthful face with barely controlled exasperation.
It had been a week in this quaint neighbourhood and she thought he'd have had his fill by now. But that hadn't been the case. She'd let him stay for seven days in this distasteful place and on the eighth, she'd eagerly awaited his arrival in the Grimmauld Place but he hadn't come.
So she'd decided do something she hadn't done since he went to Hogwarts.
And here she was, tiptoeing to his room in Privet Drive, wanting to know just why was he delaying leaving this place. She knew his sleep schedule and had wanted to surprise him before he went to bed. But she had been wrong and he'd already retired.
And now, she had even more questions, because now that she had taken a look at him, he looked different.
Warring with indecision, she shook her head. A large part of her told her to wake him up and have the conversation right then and there, just like old times while the other, the more rational part, she decided to call it, wanted her to leave quietly so she could come back in the morning.
Knowing what was the right thing to do, she sighed and began to tiptoe back towards the door. But the decision was taken out of her hands when she had to whip her wand in an arc to absorb a dangerous throttling curse aimed at her back.
"Harry!" she exclaimed in surprise and alarm.
"What the fuck?!" came the agitated voice of her godson.
"It's me, Aunt Bella!" she pleaded from behind her shield.
Harry stopped casting and looked around as he fumbled about the room. She didn't know what he was doing until the room was flooded with bright light and she was almost blinded.
When her eyes adjusted, she blushed beet red as she took in the half naked form of her godson, with wand hanging limply at his side, now looking at her as if she were mad, while waiting for an explanation that she was just too confused to muster.
---
After his visit to the Gryffindor common room, Harry had decided to take a detour, a rather large one at that, within the Hogwarts castle as it was already late enough that the chances of getting caught was significantly reduced.
After taking a satisfactory stroll in the Great Hall and a few classrooms on the first floor, he took his second ever descent into the dungeons where the Slytherin common room was located. To say that he had been shocked that the Harry Potter in this world was a snake would be an understatement, but still, he'd never expected the boy to be as naive, cowardly and easily manipulated as he'd been told. The Slytherins had never surprised him with their cruelty in his own world, and this world didn't seem any different as the other Harry had taken the brunt of the most vicious sides of his housemates.
Regardless, that was a problem for a later date, one that he refused to let dampen his mood.
The grounds seemed familiar enough, along with the little hut that the gentle half-giant slept within. The Black Lake was as mysterious as ever as he absently recalled that the Triwizard Tournament will be scheduled to be held in this year.
It was with some reluctance that he left Hogwarts to take a casual stroll through Hogsmeade and then Diagon Alley, only venturing to the adjacent Knockturn Alley on a whim when he'd been satisfied with the state of the two popular wizarding districts. He couldn't help but be relieved that a large part of the world seemed to be the same.
However, he knew he shouldn't celebrate too early, things always seemed to have a way of surprising him in the worst of ways and it'd be foolish to not be on his guard and take this...opportunity a day at a time.
So it was then that he made his way to his last stop for the day, his childhood prison, having only a vague idea from the other Harry that he was treated like the part of the family by the Dursleys and not like a castoff that had no business interrupting the normal lives of upstanding citizens.
Keeping his expectations low as always, he'd entered the house and had been promptly surprised when he'd been ushered into the warm dining room where his Aunt Petunia was just finishing cooking up dinner. He didn't think too much of it and spoke as little as possible to the exceedingly polite and normal queries of his Uncle and Aunt.
When he'd retired to his room, he'd had enough of the strangeness of his circumstances that he decided to put off going through the other Harry's things tomorrow, remembering that he still had to read through his journals to familiarize himself with this strange world.
However, it seemed that the excitement of the day had yet to reach its climax.
For no sooner did he try to relax and sleep that he was assaulted with a blinding pain in his scar, his forehead threatening to split into two from the pain. His scar had started bleeding then and Harry had realized that this was probably only the first of the many surprises of this new life.
He didn't know what was happening, only that his pain made him thrash uselessly on the bed, reaching to thresholds beyond anything he'd ever had to tolerate, much worse than the Cruciatus that he'd endured from the Dark Lord.
Only through sheer strength of will had he stopped himself from crying out at the top of his voice and waking the household, and only in the morning did he realize that in this process he'd repeatedly bitten his tongue quite painfully.
It could've been hours or minutes since the pain began before it began to recede to a dull throb and Harry found himself slipping into unconsciousness. It wasn't until six hours later that he found that disregarding the pain in his forehead, his head suddenly seemed lighter and his eyes clearer to the point that he no longer needed his glasses to see more than ten feet along.
After a long warm shower and some hearty breakfast, which he'd still had trouble believing, and ignoring some weirdly intrusive stares from Petunia, he retired to his room and begun to take stock of his new life.
His scar had faded to a thin line overnight and his head felt as if it had shed a major burden and was no longer...restrained. Yes, that was the word, he decided, that aptly described the feeling he was experiencing. It wasn't that he'd suddenly gained some new superpowers, it was more like he felt more like himself, more in control, and just more free than ever before.
It was inexplicable, this feeling, and he was left to wonder if this was the only side effect he was supposed to be experiencing from his troublesome scar. Before last night, whenever his scar erupted, it haunted him mentally and physically for days, and now, it was the stark opposite.
Anyhow, putting aside the issue of the scar, he was pleasantly surprised and in many instances, shocked, to discover the other Harry's experiences in this world. He'd started writing since he was just nine, and reading the private thoughts of his counterpart was both helpful and...frustrating.
Once such frustration was the issue of his Aunt Bella. The Harry of this world had been close to his godmother, her role often taking the form of a dear friend and confidant to his lone self. She was kind, caring, loyal and immensely protective of Harry, and bore no resemblance to the insane witch of his world who had killed his godfather without remorse.
That frustration and his inability to determine how to behave around her was the reason was standing at the foot of his bed with his wand in hand, glaring at the witch who'd invited herself to his room in the middle of the night and was now looking at him with a mixture of shock and apology.
"I'm sorry, Harry. I thought you'd be awake," she said softly, contrition apparent in both her tone and expression.
Harry exhaled noisily through his mouth, a habit he'd picked up while training in the Room of Requirement. "What do you need, Bella?"
He'd carefully modulated his tone to keep the anger out, and was grateful to see that it had the intended effect on the older witch and she sighed.
"I wanted to talk to you about your stay here. It's been too long and I was expecting you at the Grimmauld today."
Harry pursed his lips. "And that couldn't wait until the morning?"
He hoped he didn't sound accusatory. The last thing he wanted to do was alienate someone who cared about him in this new world.
"No, I just thought we'll talk like old times..." she began listlessly, turning towards the door. "Obviously, I was wrong to come at this indecent hour. Forgive me for disturbing your sleep, Harry."
Before he could so much as utter a word, she'd left the room.
"Wait!"
He ran after her, quickly grabbing a shirt while cursing about moody and frustrating females.
Bella was already at the bottom of the stairs as he climbed down two at a time. Bella looked at him with such an adorably sulky expression that he cursed inwardly. If this wasn't proof that this world was the diametric opposite of his own, he'll be damned.
"Goddamn it, Bella! Will you stop!" he whispered furiously. "We can talk now."
Bella looked at him uncertainly. "Are you sure, Harry?"
Her godson nodded, gently taking her by the arm. "Let's go back to my room. I'm awake and I'd rather know immediately what made you visit me at this indecent hour."
Bella frowned slightly but smiled and as he took her to sit beside him on the bed, absently noting how her eyes observed him as he made some space beside the duvet.
"You look different." She looked at him from head to toe. "And you've grown!"
Harry knew he'll have to work harder to blend in with his previous self, but getting caught so easily grated on him all the same. Obviously, telling her the truth was out of the question, so he chose a version of the truth instead.
"I've been trying to be. I've found that some nice long overdue reflections have made me reconsider how I want to live my life."
Bella peered worriedly at him. "Are you okay, Harry? Did something happen at Hogwarts?"
Yes, but that couldn't be said out loud. So he hid the truth.
"Nothing major. Some of the priorities in my life have shifted. I'm trying to be a better wizard."
That was true enough. He had one too many things he wanted to rectify both from his previous and this new life.
Bella took his hand in her own. "You are one of the best wizards and men I know, Harry," she assured him, "If something did happen, you'll talk to me, right? I promise I'll help you, or find someone who can."
She looked so invested in his well-being that Harry was stunned speechless for a moment. Slightly self-conscious now, he sighed, trying to find words to describe his predicament without divulging the unbelievable details.
"I will, I swear," he replied hoarsely. Without thinking, he pulled her into a hug, his nose resting in her hair, inhaling deeply, a unique scent comprising of a mixture of lavender and ash overwhelming him for a second. "I've realized that I've spent too long ignoring what's important and permanent for what's useless and fleeting. Too long I've been trying hard to fit in a world which doesn't care about me. Well, no more. Now, I'm only going to be living life by my own principles and no one will stop me."
The determination in his own voice almost took him aback. Pulling back, he regarded Bella who was looking at him with shock and...what was it? Hope?
She ruffled his messy hair and chuckled, "You are different!"
Harry narrowed his eyes, his mouth set in a teasing line. "How so?"
She burst into a tinkling laugh. Harry regarded her with admiration. It was impossible to not like this Bellatrix Black.
"It's the small things, like how you're talking and how serious you've become suddenly. I'll admit, it's a nice improvement. Last time I saw you, I was afraid you'll never partake in anything but jokes and silly banter with me. And look at you now!"
Harry was glad his changes could be attributed to the infernal teenage hormones and puberty. He also wished he'd had enough time to read all the journals to the present day, because he had no idea when he'd seen Bella last.
"I'm sure I was not that bad," he said, attempting some humour.
Bella shook her head, still smiling. "Of course not, Harry. But I'll never complain if you maintain this... intensity." And then she seemed to suddenly get a twinkle in her eyes. "It'll definitely help you snag a witch or two."
Harry snorted, giving her an unimpressed stare.
Bella's eyes widened. "Don't tell me. You already did!"
It was the disbelief in her tone that irritated him. Sure, he'd fucked Ginny once, but he didn't even know if you could consider that as "snagging a witch". He certainly had different reasons in his mind during the encounter anyway. And, he thought faintly, he didn't even know if there was a Ginny Weasley in this world.
"Why is that so hard to believe?"
Bella didn't answer, instead she simply scooted closer as if they were going to be discussing a great secret. "Tell me everything!"
Harry folded his arms defensively, not letting his embarrassment show. "What makes you think that I'd like to discuss it?"
Bella pouted. "Are you suddenly so experienced that you don't need your poor old Aunt Bella anymore?"
Harry decided this had gone on long enough. "You know that's not true. And I'll be sure to consult you when I'm next in need of seducing a witch."
Bella raised an eyebrow, her cheeks reddening a bit and relented. It was to her credit that she didn't avert her eyes. "Alright mister. I'll let it go for now. But you do owe me some details later."
Harry cleared his throat. This conversation had gone in a completely different direction than he'd been expecting. His love life was the last thing he'd ever thought he'll be discussing with another human out loud, let alone with...
But then again, far more unexpected things had happened. So he shouldn't be surprised. Not really.
Bella seemed to go from confident to uncertain in the next moment. "Are you coming to the Grimmauld Place today?" she asked softly.
Harry nodded, grateful for the change of subject. "Around dinner time. I just have a few things to do first."
"I'll come fetch you then," she said happily and stood up.
In an unexpected bout of confidence, Harry took her arm and place it within the crook of his own and led her downstairs to the front door. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Bella's surprised look but chose to ignore it.
It seemed he'd already made a good impression on someone he was supposed to be the closest to. Things will only progress nicely from here, he decided firmly.
After she'd left, their conversation stayed within his head for another hour before he could feel his neglected sleep come knocking again.
---
It was nearing noon when Harry was finally able to get through the last of the journals. It had been a lot to absorb, especially the parts which detailed some instances of his difficult relationship with his family, his few friends who sounded extremely selfish and opportunistic and finally, his more baser desires and escapades which left him both shocked and frustrated.
Shocked because the other Harry sounded exactly like what a careless teenager would do and wish for if he didn't have the burden of tragedy and responsibilities from an early age. His words felt both childish and mature at different times.
But a larger, more dominant part of Harry was frustrated because he was less than three days into this new world and already some of his own deepest, darkest desires seemed to match that of his younger counterpart. Not only that, but now, Harry felt confident enough to act upon them at his will which only added to his frustration.
Normally, he'll never be able to dedicate any time to something as unimportant as his physical needs, such things were never the top priority for him. But now, he felt little reason to not pursue them. He was free, after all.
And that freedom extended to every other area of life too, from which he could only foresee untold advantages.
It was with a mixture of excitement and trepidation that he finished packing his belongings into his trunk to carry to his more permanent home at the Grimmauld Place. If he had his way, he'll never be setting foot in this house again.
---
Petunia Dursley was afraid. As she bustled about the kitchen preparing lunch, her thoughts presented things that made little sense to her. One major dilemma that was eating at her was the fact that her nephew looked different.
When she'd last bid him goodbye in January, he'd been a shy little kid, soft spoken and demure. He never spoke unless spoken to, offered little in the way of his own opinions and kept mostly to himself all the time, locked away in his own room.
But in the last three days, she had seen a completely new side of her nephew. So different was he that seemed like a completely different person, as if something good or terrible had happened to him. Something freakish.
The most unsettling change in him though was something completely ordinary for a boy his age. A change so commonplace that nobody will pay a second thought to it, especially since teenagers were supposed to be like that. But it had the opposite effect on her.
He had begun to smile more.
And combining it with his freakishness, it was most unnatural. And it had taken control of her senses. She hated and loved it with equal measure. In fact, she didn't know what to do about it at all!
Just thinking about those smiles sent shivers up her back.
She'd tried her best to put it aside in her mind, keep those smiles away for when she was alone, when she could enjoy them privately but failed, utterly and miserably.
Oh why couldn't he be like that friend of Dudley's? Piers, she thought, was a sweet boy who always obeyed every command she gave him without question. Especially when she made it a habit of inviting him and her dear Diddidums to lunch often. And often, when Dudley had to leave for his Boxing classes, she'll have Piers all to herself, and such a good company that boy was! So sweet and normal...and fun.
But Harry? He was a freak. But he was a freak who never failed to vex her.
It was all due to those freaks that his mother kept the company of, she thought. The boy had been so good and trusting until last year but those freaks had taken him for the third year in a row to go to that freak school of hers and ruined him.
And now, she didn't know how to get him to-
"Harry!" she squealed in surprise.
Two rough hands were suddenly travelling along the her waist, touching and caressing as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
She squirmed, her hands finding support on the counter as the foreign touch left her breathless and panting in frustration and...need.
"What are...you doing?" she asked with a shuddering exhale.
His hands seemed to gain even more strength in their touch as her body practically melted in into their burning touch. Her eyes shut and her body flush between the counter and his own, she gulped.
"Just what you need, Petunia," he murmured against her ear and she cried out.
Her words died in her throat as his touch attained an urgency it didn't have before, bathing her in ecstasy.
Whatever this was, it was miles better than anything she'd ever had with any of Dudley's sweet friends.
She moaned as her breasts finally caught the attention of his touch, bringing her more pleasure than she could handle. She shivered and pushed back against his hard body, his chest providing the kind of pleasurable support she so desperately needed.
It wasn't until moments later when she realized something long and hard pressing into her most intimate of areas from behind, and she involuntarily ground against it, seeking the friction to satisfy the deep ache within her stomach.
"I need something from you, Petunia."
His voice made her shudder and she did the only thing she could, which is sag against his ministrations in pleasure.
"Do you know what?"
With his words, she felt his long, hard length pressing into her and she nodded, finally understanding both their desires.
"Good, give it to me."
She turned around and dropped down to her knees, her hands working to relieve him of his belt. It was only moments later that his rock hard magnificence was slapping her cheek as if teasing her, daring her to do what she so needed.
So she did. And Harry's resulting moan filled her with satisfaction.
"That's good, Petunia. Now, look at me."
His command was firm and clear and although she struggled, her eyes met his and she continued working her mouth in all the ways she knew to see his eyes fill with same desire that she could swear was coursing through her own.
But the desire was left to the back of her mind when suddenly, memories upon memories of years gone past began assaulting her, overwhelming her. As if sensing her discomfort, his soothing voice provided a helping hand, a balm to her senses that she was doing good. That he was pleased and he didn't need anything else except the pleasing caresses of her hands and mouth.
She saw herself reliving the day she was given Harry to raise when he was but a toddler of three, the years she'd spent making sure he hated freak sister Lily and her freak husband as much as she did, helping raise him to the ideal standards of normalcy that she herself grew up to.
Harry had always been a good boy, never raised his voice and always did well in school. She felt proud of him then, even if her own Diddidums was barely passing in most subjects. There had been a few bouts of his freakishness as he grew up, but under her supervision, they'd been disregarded as the Devil's influence and a visit to the Church later, it was forgotten. It did take some careful explanation as to why such freakishness wasn't tolerable in normal society but Harry was always a good boy and he understood.
Sure, the hatred of his parents cultivated in him a healthy hatred of freakishness that he may unfortunately have gotten from them, in the end, all was well. Or all had been well, until that freak godfather of his had found them and put an end to all the she and Vernon had instilled in him since they'd had him.
And before she could comprehend what had happened, Harry was off to that freak school in Scotland and out of her and Vernon's reach and influence. And ten months later, he came back as a completely new person.
He was slightly more confident now, liked to bring up more unnatural tales of his freakish school and freak friends. But at least, his hatred of Lily and her husband was still alive. In fact, it had become even more pronounced as he sought Petunia out to hear more tales of her sister's freakishness and how she'd alienated Petunia as soon as she'd gotten her letters on her eleventh birthday.
She'd encouraged him to maintain as little contact as possible with Lily and her family, and he'd listened to her and trusted her judgement. He did have after all, a prime example of betrayal from her and her husband when they'd agreed to send him away on the Old man's suggestions.
When he came back from his second year, he had become a little more secretive and in his third year, he'd become so silent and she'd despaired that the boy she knew and raised was being slowly taken away from her.
It was probably because of his freak godmother who liked to pay most infuriating announced visits to her home and tried to question her about details on his living arrangements. Her questions were most insulting and she would have liked to give the freak a lesson in manners but couldn't. Because the woman was mad, absolutely mad. And she terrified her like no other.
With violet eyes, a lithe, curvaceous figure, high, well-defined aristocratic cheekbones and a sharp tongue, she was everything Petunia had dreamed of becoming when she was a little girl. And this...freak woman was the embodiment of everything she wasn't and more and having one of her death glares directed at her chilled her to the bone.
Petunia could swear she was the reason Harry had changed so much that she almost didn't recognize him.
But before she could reminisce some more, she was pulled back to the present and absently, she realized that her eyes were burning and her chest heaving. She could smell something warm and metallic dripping from her eyes but she paid it no mind as she had better things to do, or rather, a better thing to please.
It was when she'd consumed every last drop of his delicious essence that her mind was filled with a warm voice that sent tingles up her spine.
"Petunia, do you know what I want you to do?"
She frowned in confusion before memories assaulted her mind once more, plunging her into some unfamiliar depths of despair and rage. Never before had she been so enraged at her husband and her son. What had they been thinking?!
It was because of them that Harry had turned out the way he is. It was because of them he felt so unloved and so miserable for eleven years of his life. It was because of her and her family that Harry had to endure a childhood so traumatic that he still sometimes had nightmares of suffocating in the cupboard.
A tiny voice at the back of her mind told her that she'd never put Harry in the cupboard below the stairs but that voice was quickly snuffed out of existence and the more forceful and dominant rage consumed her.
By the time she was back on her feet, her hands were shaking from fury.
"Do you know what I want you to do?" Harry asked again, his eyes glowing a vivid green that made her want to obey him immediately.
She knew exactly what she wanted, nay, needed to do. She had to right the wrongs. She had to do right by Harry. A fiery determination consumed her and she nodded resolutely.
"I'll kill my husband and Dudley as soon as they come home."
Harry smiled. She shivered in pleasure. "And then?" he asked.
"And then I'll blow up this house," Petunia replied firmly.
Harry embraced her. "Thank you, Aunt Petunia. You're awesome."
She smiled. "Of course, Harry, anything for you."
"Goodbye."
Harry walked out of the door, not deigning to look back.
Chapter 2 - New Beginnings
Number 12 Grimmauld Place looked the same, at least from the outside. Wedged neatly in between the two Muggle Houses of Number 13 and 14, it cast a distinctly normalappearance to a casual passerby, which they conveniently forgot when the house disappeared from view, courtesy of the Black wards.
The knocker at the entrance was infused with a deadly rotting curse and would fire if it detects someone of non-Black blood trying to gain entry to the ancestral home of the Ancient and Noble House of Black. Harry didn't know the specifics of any other protections, apprehensive as he was at the prospect of finding something he wasn't prepared for, only that the steps to the door and the door handle also carried curses of their own, ready to pelt any intruder to a painful death. Sirius had been very forthcoming with the details of his old childhood home.
For the third time, he chided himself for not waiting for Bella. His independent streak just wouldn't have it. Not to mention, he also didn't want her to notice any difference in the disposition of his Aunt or risk her knowing exactly what happened after he left.
Since he was family, the door opened without any ceremony and as he stood within the lobby, he looked around for the portrait of the infamous Walburga Black. But she was nowhere to be found. The overall decor the House hadn't really changed though, it was the same dreary and gloomy and oh so familiar that he felt himself relaxing.
Excitement at seeing his dead old Dogfather again coursing through his veins, he walked towards the kitchen. If he was honest with himself, he was also eager to see Bella again, but didn't want to admit so to himself. He knew he was being childish and even stupid but he didn't care. A single meeting wasn't going to convince him that she was truly the opposite of the Bellatrix of his world.
The kitchen was disappointingly empty and Harry felt himself deflate a little. Deciding to make a cup of coffee for himself, he waited.
Just as he was washing a cup, a crack to his side made him glance to the resident elf of the House of Blacks.
"Master Potter, welcome to House of Black. Will you be needing coffee?" Kreacher asked.
Harry glared at the elf, speechless at the unexpected politeness and simply nodded. Kreacher seemed to flinch at the silent hostility but took the cup Harry was holding and promptly set about his task.
Sitting at his usual chair in the kitchen, he sagged a little, still reeling with a mixture of fury and disbelief at seeing the elf again. Ever since he had the displeasure of knowing it was his non-interference that had played a part in Sirius' demise, he held a hatred for the elf that refused to be snuffed.
He didn't have too much time to ponder on that subject as Bella came into the kitchen then, her heels clanking with a steady rhythm on the hardwood floor and her face lit up in surprise and delight.
"Harry! You're here!"
The excited voice of his godmother did wonders to his disposition, his smile taking on a warmth that he'd had few occasions to display before.
"I'm glad to be here," he said, embracing her. Her excitement seemed to bleed into him because he found himself asking, "So what have you been up to since yesterday?"
"The last leg of the World Cup will be held on English soil. We'll be busy until it's done with," she said with a yawn.
Harry looked at her seriously. "Is the Minister running you ragged for the security?"
Bella shrugged. "The Minister is very particular about the arrangements, yes. We can't have the tiniest lapse with more than three-hundred thousand attendees."
Harry was shocked. "So many?" Where he had come from, barely five thousand people had attended the finals.
Bella's exasperation was visible. "Probably more. Some ICW countries are yet to confirm their attendance. It's not unexpected with what's happened with Austria, now that the semi-finals have also been moved to English soil."
Harry was almost afraid to ask. "What happened with Austria?"
Bella looked at him, surprised. "You don't know? It was all over the papers! The stadium was compromised."
"Compromised?" he forced himself to look calm, but knowing that the recent affairs of the wizarding world were unknown to him was grating.
"Dark wizards placed curses all over the place. The curse-breakers say it'll be months before it'll be safe for occupancy," she explained.
"And that leaves us to host the semi-finals."
Harry was thoughtful for a moment as he sipped his coffee, pondering the implications. So engrossed was he that he failed to notice Bella's inquisitive stare.
"Since when did you start drinking coffee?" she asked.
Harry smiled. "Since February." That sounded true enough since it was the month prior when Peter Pettigrew escaped from Azkaban.
Bella huffed. "You are developing one too many grown up habits."
Harry gave her a flat look. "And why is that a bad thing?"
"It's not," she admitted reluctantly, "But it does feel sudden. You're growing up fast."
Harry stared off into his steaming cup for a moment. "I have to."
"Is this because of the rat's escape?" she eyed him worriedly, "You don't have to worry about these things, Harry. It's the job of the Ministry and your family to keep you safe. Hell, it's my job to catch Pettigrew before he stirs up trouble," she added.
"I do worry," he didn't budge, "I may not have the experience but I'm not lacking in skill or determination in doing what needs to be done to protect us."
It could be the firmness of his tone or the hardness of his expression that seemed to take the wind out of Bella. "You're worried that Voldemort is going to come back."
Harry had no hope of Pettigrew getting caught before whatever trouble he was trying to stir was already in motion. But he didn't want to alarm Bella.
He clasped her hand in his. "He is going to try. Don't tell me you didn't predict this from my first two years at Hogwarts."
It was true. His two years at Hogwarts had been exactly the same, except for the unwanted interventions of his twin.
Bella shook her head. "That doesn't make it your responsibility."
Harry looked at her in disbelief.
"What?" she denied, "It's not! It's the Ministry's, mine, your parents, and even John's, but not yours! The only things you should be concerned about are getting good grades, pulling pranks and chasing skirts."
In the following years, Harry will reminisce and wonder what it was about Bella's statement that caused him to burst into a full-blown belly laughter.
Bella joined in his amusement and soon they were laughing at its absurdity of it all. It was a minute or two before Harry could regain control of himself.
"I don't chase skirts. They chase me."
"Well, you surely don't lack confidence now," she grinned. "Experience on the other hand..." she trailed off, bemused.
Harry simply raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I lack experience?"
It was time for Bella to look shocked as she regarded him as if he'd grown another head. "So this is why you are so different!"
Harry snorted, a little self-conscious. "I didn't expect it to be such a shock to you."
Bella sighed, her eyes still wide. "I'll admit, I didn't know what to expect as I've never heard you mention any girl at Hogwarts. I didn't even know you fancied someone."
Harry hid his smile with his cup.
"So that's what you've been up to this year, huh." she mused out loud, waving her hands at him, "Breaking hearts amongst other things."
Amongst other things, definitely, he thought.
Harry shrugged, breaking eye contact. "I don't think I'm too early to be thinking seriously about the future." He was suddenly glad to be on this topic and added, "I've been training to become a better fighter. I was hoping you could help me improve in areas that I'm lacking. I'm sure one lesson or practice a week will help me immensely, at least for the summer."
Never in his life had he asked for something as real and important as he'd done now. He didn't know how, nor did he know if he was even supposed to. Bitterly, he realized it was probably because he'd never even had anyone in his life he could ask a favour like this. Remus didn't count as he had already been a teacher at Hogwarts, and not really family.
Bella stilled and looked at him uncertainly. He almost backtracked but then remembered how his other self had been pants at practical spell work as a whole, and DADA was his least favourite subject.
"If you can spare some time, that is. I know you're very busy, but I don't know who else to ask..." he trailed off.
She shook her head as if reprimanding herself and instead squeezed his arm assuredly. "I'll be happy to! Do you fancy a run now? It'll be good to have an idea of your level before I can help you," she looked excited.
Harry stood up, placing his empty cup on the dining table. Bella took them to the duelling chamber located downstairs.
As he removed his wand from his pocket, he regarded Bella who had shed off her formal Ministry robes and was now clad in an all-black, loose sleeveless dress that ended just above her knees, its fit true to her buxom hourglass figure. If he was honest, he could almost feel a part of his brain disengaging from the fight at present and getting lost in admiring the view.
No wonder did the other Harry have such a huge crush on her. Bellatrix Black was drop-dead gorgeous. As he admired her stance, he took a deep breath to force his Occlumency to calm and focus himself, setting her cold beauty aside for the time being for more important pursuits.
"Ready?" she asked.
Harry nodded and unceremoniously started their dance with a chain of non-verbal stunner and back to back concussion jinxes. He assumed they were going to be sticking to mildly injurious spells at best.
Bella parried them off quite easily and her own attack came back with almost double the intensity, prompting him to start moving. Being light on his feet was as much of a boon as having an impenetrable shield after all, sometimes even more so.
Dodging and shielding and bringing his own spells to match her speed, he hastened to put some obstacles in her path like he'd seen Dumbledore do with Voldemort in their battle in the Ministry Atrium. From his wand came a pair of snarling wolves and a python who immediately poised to attack the older witch. Harry didn't wait to see her reaction because he set about creating a fissure on the ground separating them, the dust and the debris from the destruction of the floor creating a nice source material for him to create some creative yet instrumental diversion.
Even as the air around him seemed to hum from such explosive discharge of magic, he struggled to catch a breath as unfamiliar spells came rocketing at him from three different directions, putting him on the defensive. He also noted from behind a thin shield that his wolves had been turned quite impressively against him.
Two more spells chains later, he shielded and dodged some nasty bone breakers while still looking to use some animation charms on his newly minted golems to attack the fierce witch at her back, but before he could, they dissolved into dust as a swarm of wild birds came to surround him completely. Dispersing them off took a moment and before he could respond, he felt the ground beneath him start to shake and he instinctually applied a levitation charm to his shoes and waved his wand in an arc, bringing a current of electricity from thin air on his victim. He could barely dodge the spells still raining down at him from within the dust clouds and taking some respite within a bubble-head, he set about transfiguring the smoke around him to something more useful.
His legs shaking from exertion and his breath coming in gasps, he struggled to put his unfit body to use as more and more spells came to trap him in the obstacles of his own making, the rough ground now serving to make him more and more unsteady on his feet as he struggled to switch to attacking while stuck behind hastily constructed shields and his agonizing calves.
Even his clothes seemed to hinder him, their size not as fit as it was needed in a fight for his life or others'. Matching her spell for spell for a while, he admitted to himself that it was only a matter of time before he lost to the older witch, he set about to go out with a bang.
"No so easily..." he murmured to himself. He wanted to do better.
Conjuring some life-sized versions of dragons, he willed them to attack and spray fire upon the witch as he crouched low and started casting an area-wide levitation charm on the debris surrounding him and noted with satisfaction that his spell took effect in bringing the mass in and around ten feet in diameter all within his might.
The debris around him all stood tall in mid air as he focused all his magical intent on sending them hurtling at rapid velocity towards his opponent, intent on pelting her to defeat.
In this effort, he failed to take account of an incoming spell chain that launched him backwards onto his arse, his wand clattering to his side and his eyes fluttering in exhaustion.
His mind registered a loud clacking of heels on the floor as he struggled to get up. The last thing he heard before he lost consciousness were the words, "Stupid, stupid boy!" and a grim satisfaction at having evoked such emotions from one of the fiercest witches in the world.
~~ .
Harry opened his eyes to see warm sunlight streaming through the gap in the blinds. Rubbing his eyes with one hand while removing the duvet with another, he sat up and immediately groaned in discomfort. Glancing at the time, he groaned. His need to push himself had cost him a night and half a day as it was already mid-afternoon.
It seems he hadn't counted the physical aspects of fighting among the many requirements in becoming a better wizard. While he did good against the training dummies in the Room, against a real, competent opponent, he had suffered, both magically and physically.
So this was yet another aspect he had to work on.
Sighing, he reached for water on the nightstand. Gulping it down greedily, he turned to get up when the door opened and an anxious Bella bustled in.
"Harry!" before he could take stock of how much trouble he was in, she was pulling him into a hug. "You stupid boy! You scared me!"
She pulled back and he felt a wave of guilt for having scared her so much. The fearsome witch looked so vulnerable that he feared he'd somehow done irreparable damage to their budding relationship.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, "I didn't know my own limits...and I kept thinking I could do better and -"
"Do better?!" she exclaimed. "You're probably the only thirteen-almost fourteen year old who can fight better than most wizards thrice your age and experience I know."
Harry ducked his head, not knowing how to take the unexpected praise. "I'm sorry," he shook his head.
Bella stared at him worriedly. "Your level is beyond anything I could've ever imagined. Were you holding back on me in December? Our duels used to last barely a minute at best then. And now, you'll give the European Champion a run for her life." she paused. "Merlin! You could be the European Champion!"
Massively uncomfortable under the praise, Harry said nothing and simply stared down at his hands.
Bella seemed to sense his reluctance.
"You can talk to me, Harry," she said softly, "Whatever it is, I promise I'll help or-"
"You'll find someone who can," Harry finished for her, smiling.
Bella regarded him seriously. "As a matter of fact, I have someone who could help, if you're up for talking to her."
Harry met her eyes then, confused.
Bella said with reluctance, "Lily is here. James was too, but he had to leave for some work after seeing that you're alright, only resting due to exhaustion. Lily stayed."
Harry felt such a rollercoaster of emotions then that his throat seized up.
His mother was here. The mother whose voice he'd heard in his best dreams and the worst nightmares, pleading and begging to spare his life and take hers instead. His mother whose life had been cut short in protecting a son from a madman. His mother who he'd wished day after day and night after night to see once again, away from the pain of her body absorbing the deadly green curse as she shielded his with her own.
Lily Potter was alive and well and waiting for him. Harry Potter knew what to do.
"Where is sh-how-when did she arrive?" he struggled to voice his tumultuous thoughts.
"She's been here for six hours. I visited her after I made Andy see you for any lasting injuries or magical damage," Bella supplied.
Harry stood up.
Bella took a deep breath as if preparing herself for something tough. "Harry, I know that you've not forgiven your parents, and I understand, I do," she began. "But just this once, please meet Lily and - just show her that you're alright. You don't need to spend any time with her or your dad, just a hello and a greeting will be more than enough."
Harry stared at her with impatience. Once again, he hadn't considered how this world's Harry had kept his family at a distance for almost four and a half years now, since before he'd first gotten his Hogwarts letter. While he'd felt compassion for him when he'd read his journals, now, he felt only impatience. A hurry to leave it all behind was stirring him up in the most irritating yet eager manner.
"Will you see her?" Bella hadn't taken his silence well and had grown even more uncomfortable.
"I will," he said firmly.
Bella nodded, satisfied. "She's in the yellow drawing room."
As he set out to walk out of the door, he turned to Bella. "I've been training on my own in Hogwarts since last year. I'm not someone who can sit back and rely on others to protect him," he uttered softly, the words flowing out of him on their own, as if controlled by an emotion he couldn't name. "I want to be the one my family can depend on," he met her eyes, "when the time comes."
Without waiting for her reaction, he swept from the room.
~~ .
Lily Potter stared into the glowing hearth as her mind whirred with scenarios in which Harry accepted her and James and came back home with them. They'll sit down to talk as a family, she and James will ask for his forgiveness and no matter how much time it took to earn it, they'll stay firm. Then Harry will spend the summer with them at the Manor, the Potter siblings will be united again and her family will finally be complete.
Of course, all of this could only happen should Harry deign to give her the time of the day to talk and apologize and offer him anything to make him believe that she and James loved him and would like him to be a part of their family again.
No sooner had she thought of the possibility of welcoming him back into the family that her chest flared in pain at the anticipation of the familiar hurtful words from her estranged son. In the four years they'd been trying, Harry had left no doubt that he detested their efforts to come into his life or to welcome him into their own, and that he had become so used to the distance that he neither wanted nor needed their interfering presence.
She took a deep breath to calm her fluttering nerves threatening to wreak havoc on her equanimity.
No matter what they'd tried, words of contrition and apology, gestures of reassurance and love had all been in vain.
Years of misery and separation had been inflicted on her family due to a single bad decision and blindly trusting the wrong person. It had torn her family apart and they were still handsomely paying for it.
Steady footsteps from the stairs broke into her reverie and she stood up, refusing to think that it could just be Bella coming to relay the disappointing news to her that her son had refused to see her.
But it wasn't Bella who entered the parlour. Her emerald eyes locked with Harry's.
It been months since she'd seen him and now, he was here.
"Harry..." she spoke, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay.
Her heart waited for the familiar rejection to come and blow all of her hopes apart but they never did. Instead, something miraculous happened.
Harry was looking at her with wonder in his eyes, as if seeing her for the first time. His eyes looked moist, she observed through her own damp ones. As he came closer, her hopes grew to epic proportions and before she could ascertain the meaning of anything, he had reached her.
"Mum?" he asked softly and uncertainly.
She said nothing and simply opened her arms.
As she embraced her son for the first time in almost eleven years, she wept. Only this time, her tears were from sheer joy coursing through her veins, giving her hope a certainty that her family will be complete again.
Something had definitely changed and before she could even think about mulling it over, Harry was pulling back and wiping her tears.
"Oh, mum. How are you?"
She simply nodded, too emotional to form a response. A weak laughter bubbled up from inside her and she kissed his forehead and his cheeks and simply lay her head on his chest, absently noting how tall he'd grown. Almost as tall her James.
Harry didn't speak again and simply stood with his arms around her, the silence too joyful and comfortable to break. Suddenly, a sense of urgency gripped her heart. It was in this moment that she needed to explain herself, wanted him to understand her and forgive her, for she couldn't imagine a reconciliation without earning his forgiveness.
"I'm so sorry, Harry. I'm sorry for everything, for giving you away so foolishly and for never explaining to you and for trusting a senile old man with no family and no children over my own better judgement. I'm sorry for subjecting us to so many years of misery, for making you so unhappy and making you live away from your own family. Please, can you forgive me, son?"
Harry squeezed her tighter and whispered, "All is forgiven, mum."
A sob wrecked through her as she tried to gain some control of her emotions. She had so many things to say and yet at this moment when all was beginning to be alright, her power of speech had betrayed her.
When Harry pulled back to lay a kiss on her forehead, she smiled through her tears.
"Let's just start over again, yeah?" he proposed gently.
She nodded. "I'd like that. Your father would too."
~~ .
While laying awake in his cot under the stairs or the bed in his Gryffindor dorm, Harry had wished and envisioned a world where he could have his parents back, but the reality exceeded all of them.
He'd heard from various sources the brilliance of Lily Potter but now he could swear they'd never really done her justice.
His mum was bright, vivacious, brilliant, and enflamed a joy in his chest that bore no equal. The moment they sat down to talk, it was like the floodgates had opened and they continued for hours, only glancing at the time in shock when it was nearing dinnertime. It seemed Bella had given them both privacy and Lily leave to stay as long as she wanted.
"-but Dorea didn't as she is shy, and Rose is a splitting image of your father. I swear I have to whack them both twice a day to have any semblance of normalcy in the house," Lily was saying.
Harry listened much more than he talked, wanting nothing more than to hear more about his family. "Do they ever ask about me?"
Lily nodded, still smiling. He could swear she hadn't stopped since they'd sat down to talk hours ago. "Rose misses you but doesn't like to talk about it. She takes being the big sister to Dorea quite seriously, and apparently, that means she can't display any weakness," she shook her head in exasperation. "I've told her that being slightly more open with your feelings among the siblings is a good thing but she doesn't listen."
Harry snorted. "That sounds exactly like-"
"Your father, yes," she supplied, "Since our fifth year at Hogwarts, he became adept at managing things. It was because Charlus, your grandfather, who was the Lord Potter at the time, made him begin taking on Heir duties and it matured him."
"And Dorea?"
Lily hummed. "Dorea is a quiet girl. She's always been shy and I suspect it's because of being the youngest in the family. She talks about you often, in her letters from the school. She rooted for you in the duelling tournament last year, watched every match."
Harry grimaced, remembering how his younger counterpart had completely botched the quarterfinal match. He'd been thoroughly thrashed by Theodore Nott of his own House. Morbidly, Harry had even wondered whether he'd somehow cheated to reach the quarterfinals, because his skill with a wand was absolutely laughable, being the eleventh ranked student out of the thirty-eight in his year.
"I'll do better this time," he promised both to himself and his mother. "In fact, I've already been trying to improve my practicals and-"
"You should've watched him yesteday, Lily! When he started throwing spells at me, I thought he was an imposter! He was performing NEWT level spells like it was nothing!" Bella injected, strutting into the parlour like the mistress of the home. Harry laughed.
Lily looked appreciatively at him. "That is very impressive. It's good that you're exploring your potential. Simply passing classes is never enough."
Bella snorted. "Spoken like a true overachiever."
"Grades are never the focus of studying," Lily said, sitting up straighter, "It's for the improvement of one's mind and magic."
Bella sat on the sofa opposite to them. "Will you be staying for dinner?"
"I can't," Lily said regretfully, "I've told John that I'll back before dinner."
Harry made a sudden decision. "Stay, mum."
Lily looked pleased at his insistence. "Believe me, I want to, but I've left my mirror at home and I haven't informed-"
"Oh, that can be easily arranged," Harry muttered, grasping his wand. "Expecto Patronum," he murmured just as a massive, majestic stag took shape, bowing to him. He quickly relayed a message, "Dad, I'm keeping mum for dinner at Grimmauld, she'll be back in two hours."
The stag galloped across the living room and burst through the windows out into the garden. Harry grinned in satisfaction while Bella and Lily stared at him, shocked speechless.
"What was that?!"
"Just like your dad..."
Bella and Lily exclaimed at the same time, looking at each other. Bella shook her head at her, as if answering an unasked question. She then faced her son.
"That was beautiful, Harry!" Lily gushed, overcome with both the display of magic and that his Patronus took the form of his father's animagus.
"Since when have you been able to cast a corporeal Patronus?" Bella asked, still looking stunned.
"I learned it last year, after the incident on the train in September, I couldn't rest until I had a way to ward off against Dementors," Harry explained, happy that for this at least he had a ready made answer that sounded plausible. "Sirius helped a lot initially."
Lily looked accusingly at Bella. "You told me he wasn't hurt!"
"I wasn't!" Harry assured her, "I simply fainted. After that, I didn't want to feel so helpless around Dementors so I asked Sirius to teach me the charm."
Lily still looked concerned but nodded, caressing his cheek. Bella looked between the two of them, sighed and stood up.
"Shall we get to dinner?"
Harry placed his mother's arm in the crook of his own. "Lead the way, Bella."
Suddenly, there was a thumping noise from the top of the stairs.
"COUSIN I'M HOME!"
Bella exchanged an amused look with Harry and he called out, "Sirius! Come on down! We're having dinner!"