The Time Harry Potter Travelled Back in Time (and Tried to Resuscitate a Couple of Corpses)

Dear Harry,

If you are reading this, it means I did not get to live for as long as I'd hoped—and not for the lack of trying, I assure you. How ironic is it that I spent half of my life waiting for this day to arrive, and the other half fearing it terribly? Very, as Sirius and your father will surely point out to me once I get there (to the place we go to when we die).

“Things never go your way, do they Moons?” They'd say at this very moment if they could. It is hard to explain why somebody would ever crave death. To that, I have only one thing to say: there are so many things you don't know about the world, cub, so many things about us, you are unaware of, and, after that fateful night of Halloween 1981, I promised myself it would be me who would explain them all to you.

I used to think about your parent's will more than I would like to admit, back then, more than it was definitely healthy. There was Sirius and I, then Marlene and Dorcas (your mum's best friends, they died before you were born, their deaths were the reason your parents refused to appoint a godmother), Alice and Frank (Neville's parents), Peter of course, and lastly, Mary (McDonald,  another friend of ours, she got rid of every recollection of your parents, us or even you, mad with grief. She is still alive that I know of, although she must have been forced to register and go to trial, given that she was a muggleborn, and that never ends well). And out of all of them, out of all of these wonderful candidates who should have taken over your parents' duty to care for you if something were to happen to them, somehow, I turned out to be the last man standing, as muggles like to say.

It was quite baffling to me, to be honest, I always expected to die first. “Surely the wolf should have finished me off by now…” I told myself all the time (literally, all the bloody time). It is not an excuse, none of this is: this letter is supposed to be a goodbye, not a long list of reasons of why I deserve redemption.

Despite that, I figured there are a lot of things you should know, and I owe you a big apology, cub, I never wanted to leave you in the dark like I ended up doing (there is no excuse for that either, but I will say, for one specific and huge secret out of many others, it was the only way I came up with to protect you). 

The worst of it all is that I know how much you hate to be treated like a child after everything you've been put through, I remember perfectly well those discussions with Molly back at Grimmauld. It would have probably been better for you if it had been me the one to die that night in the department of mysteries, Harry, sometimes I think you know that as well as I do. Still, I can’t and won’t apologise for it—for many other things, yes, for not telling you when I went to see you and tried to join you last August and it was no longer necessary to lie, sure, I will regret it all my life, but not for before.

As I said, there is so much I hid from you. How Teddy came to be, for example, or the truth about my relationship with Tonks (which I included in the memory jar tied to your letter). Some secrets are not even mine alone to tell, some of them are precious, very dear to me, and Sirius wanted you to know more than anything else in the world. We were going to do it that summer, Harry, that I can promise you, I was the only reason why he didn't before: I was terrified you would look at us differently when we did, and couldn’t bear the thought of losing you before we even got to know you. 

There are memories I did not have the heart to give to you, or, at least, not fully. I preferred writing them in here than allowing you to see me in such a state. You might have been wondering why we never met before Hogwarts, where I was during your childhood. The truth is that, apart from dealing poorly with grief and developing an addiction to alcohol (I've been almost a decade sober, by the way, so don't worry), I spent most of my adult life trying to get to you. 

Sirius and I were supposed to adopt you if your parents died, remember? What I think nobody could see coming is Sirius being imprisoned for a crime he didn’t commit (I wonder why!). Werewolves are not allowed to take custody of a child unless they are the biological parent, you see? I was also unfit to take care of a child at the time, that’s true, but I wanted to be in your life so badly.

I kind of used my friendship with Kingsley to get to the ministry records through him and to your new address (okay, without the kind of). I then went to talk to your aunt, one morning, when you began pre-school, and I had more or less put myself together. I was hoping I could spend some afternoons or even weekends with you, but she threatened to have me arrested, which I thought was protective of her at the time, because my clothes were a mess and, for her, I belonged to the same world which got her sister killed.

She must have written to Dumbledore, because I was ordered not to see you ever again. Still, I would save up all year long to buy you a Christmas and birthday present, I wrote letters, I sent dozens of pictures, and again and again, I would try to visit without much success. Now I know you did not get them, of course. I’m aware Petunia must have been strict, and she always distrusted magic, I saw Lily cry to her letters too many times not to. 

I always hoped she’d show them to you some day, and that she gave you a good childhood, and I was more than happy to send Hagrid all of those pictures when he asked for them—some of them new, others I had already given to you—but mostly I was relieved: I had the certainty that those would finally reach you.

And this is looking even more like a giant excuse. I assure you, that is not my intention, I only wanted to say that I care, I wish I had had more time to show you that, that I care so much and so deeply, or rather, that I had been braver with the time that I had. I also wrote to you that summer, after Sirius died, but I spent most of it with fellow werewolves and I guess my letters did not reach you then either. 

You are and have always been part of my family, okay Harry? I chose you to be Teddy’s godfather not because I expected you to take on such a big responsibility in my absence, even though I like to think you will be in his life—surely Tonks and Andromeda will raise him now that I died—but because, as mine and Sirius’ godson, there is no one else I (or him, had he been here) would have ever chosen, no one else better than you.

There are so many things about me, I wish I could have told you in person. My sexuality, my love for Sirius, how we got together, my friendship with your father, the way James mothered us all when we were sick, his kindness (truly one of a kind, a quality only your mother could replicate). I’ll never forget how supportive Lily, Pads and him became of my condition, or his prankster brain, which at times made him get carried away. 

He had his flaws, and so did the rest of us: our rivalry with Severus was a fair and mutual rivalry, most of the time, but there were altercates towards the end of it where we did not behave like we should have. We crossed many lines only because, for us, he had crossed way worse ones, and I never stopped Sirius and James from bullying him.

I often wonder what would have happened if we'd helped him back when we were kids, instead of taking up on said rivalry. Maybe then, Dumbledore would still be alive, as much as I dislike the man, as much as I blame him for my friends' death and your role in the war. He is the man who made it possible for me to have a magical education, after all, and I was never oblivious to the debt I have with him, but that doesn't mean I have to like it.

Now this is the ugly part. I want to think that the fact that you're reading this means Voldemort is gone, that we won. If we didn't, if you are somebody else (either Ron or Hermione I guess) and my cub didn't make it, Kingsley knows what to do. If he is dead, then Molly knows what to do, and if Molly is gone as well, there is a pencil inside the first drawer of Kingsley's night table at his old room in Grimmauld. It is a porkey to the muggle prime minister's office, tell him your name, show proof you belong to the light (I'm sure you'll figure something out, he has been told the basics of the conflict) and explain what happened. The prime minister is guarding one of the last five time turners left, modified by the unspeakables to go back up to two years into the past.

Good luck.

Please give the Order of the Phoenix of that time (preferably to Kingsley, Molly, Arthur, Sirius and I, thank you very much, don't go to Dumbledore immediately or the man will make plans without our knowing) the necessary information to kill Voldemort and save Harry.

Assuming it is really you, cub, I love you so much.

Read my letter to Teddy in three or four years, and try to live a little, yeah? None of this was your fault, and it's really none of my business, but I was told by Tonks' faithful reports two years ago while I was away with the packs and you were at the Weasleys' that Ginny was the only one who could get a smile out of you, so maybe reconsider that.

Seek help if you need it, don't be afraid to explore, or waste any time being ashamed of yourself—trust me, I learnt the hard way—and please! Be selfish once in a while. I realise this letter must have been very confusing for you without the memories that come along with it, I've included plenty of your parents as well, hopefully they will make up for what I failed to do and help you to get to know them better.

Tell my other son that I love him, that I did not want to leave him, that I would have loved to raise him.

Tell yourself that I love you too, and I'm truly sorry things went this way. If everything goes well, the only person who will ever read this is myself when I destroy it. But just in case, well,  here it is.

Very mad at you right now for having broken into Gringots and flown away in a dragon without my supervision,

Your uncle Moony.

🌈 🦌 🌸 💚

The big blackboard stuck on the kitchen's wall trembled a little when Hermione dropped the sharpie on it. She looked at Harry, expectant, as did Ron.

“Well?”

Her voice changed radically when she finally got a good look at him. 

“Oh, Harry, I'm  so sorry. What did it say?” She went in for a hug, and Harry finally realised he was crying. He tried to remember since when, and failed.

“He thinks I won't understand half of what he is saying until I see his memories, he did not expect I would have Tonks' and yours to help ” he confessed, handing the letter to Ron for him to read. “Even after watching Tonks', I still can't believe it, that Remus and Sirius were together and Teddy is their son.”

Hermione looked guilty once more.

“I'm so sorry for not telling you about Remus' involvement or anything really, I promised I wouldn't.”

“We know, 'Mione,” Ron interceded, letting his eyes part away from Remus' words for a moment, and squeezed her hand. “We do not blame you.”

It was true, they hadn't.

But still, despite understanding the weight of a heart-felt promise, Harry wished he had known, that he'd realised they were not three teenagers, on a deadly mission and all on their own, that there was someone there saving their lives time and time again, an adult they could rely on.

To be honest, admitting to himself having Remus there did indeed help didn't stop the hurt, the pain, and betrayal after finding out how alike Remus was to Mrs Weasley—who Harry loved dearly despite her faults—how much he had yearned to shield him from the war, despite how much Harry suffered, and all he had done to win the thing and as a child too!

The secrets also hurt, they did so deeply, and somehow, all that hurt was joined by a painful wave of regret. He had been dealing with it since he saw the memory where Remus came back to Tonks after his confrontation with Harry, and it would get a lot worse now he knew Remus had feared that he what? That he hated gay people? That he wouldn't love them any more? But of course, how could Remus ever love someone like him, who never responded to his parental affections?

“He thought I would hate him and Sirius for being together, for simply loving each other,” Harry lamented out of the blue, while Ron looked at him worryingly, and it was finally Hermione’s turn to read the letter, “and all of those years he spent alone, with my aunt and uncle taking the money, the letters, the presents! I never had presents as a child, I thought I was a freak and freaks didn't deserve presents. Now I wonder which one of Dudley's Christmas and birthday gifts were from him or if they simply destroyed them all, fearing there was something magical in them… He'd buy one for each occasion, you know? God, and I called him Professor Lupin for so long because I wanted to be polite and not overstep his boundaries! I probably broke his heart, and now he's gone ! Dead! They both are! And their baby is an orphan!”

“Oh, Harry…”

It made sense, of course, Petunia and Vernon did indeed hate “the queers,” as they called them when they were in a good mood—way worse terms would be used were that not the case—and Remus did not know Harry had raised himself to cherish everything they hated (after a few years, when he began deconstructing himself at Hogwarts that is), he didn't know how much they'd loaded him, how awful they'd been to him.

There were parts of the letters he did not dare to mention out loud. The bit about his parents, about Remus saying he cared for him, that Harry was family, family! For years, Harry had dreamed of belonging to one—to an alive one, of course—and looking back, maybe he had, those late nights at Grimmauld playing chess and exploding snaps with Sirius and Remus while getting advice from them, maybe right then and there, they had been a family.

Of course, Ron and Hermione would always be his family, but Sirius and Remus had been the first adults to ever take on that parental role—there had been others: Professor McGonagall, Ron's mum and dad… But with them two it felt different, as if they had wanted to be in Harry's life no matter what, unconditionally. His friends, however, were more like his brother and sister (which was very weird  considering they were dating, but the two of them were not siblings, okay?!).

Actually, Harry wondered if his dad too had felt weird about Remus and Sirius, huh… Don't get sidetracked,  he told himself, it may be a copying mechanism now, but it makes it worse in the long run.

When he finally saw Remus’ memories, he realised how right Tonks had been. Remus did hide things, he downplayed how much he had suffered because of him, he had not included that conversation with Tonks, which would hunt Harry forever, about how the day they met was the second worst day of his life, having been the day he realised Harry did not know him.

He skipped through memories about the marauders at Hogwarts, feeling a heavy weight in his heart. As much as he wanted to see them immediately, as soon as he found them really, he couldn't, not now that Harry was a man on a mission. 

There were some, however, he was unable to resist: the day Sirius asked Remus out for the first time; his dad's speech to Sirius, telling him that they would be his new family; his dad again, proclaiming to their group of friends they would support everybody to be their true shelves or part ways, because some views were irreconcilable, and he would not respect those who judged his friends for loving each other; Marlene, Dorcas, Mary and his mum singing ABBA in the common room and forcing Remus to join; laughter, lots of laughter; Lily again, discussing some principles of pretty complicated magic with Remus; Sirius welcoming Remus into the Potters' home in a summer visit, with his arms open and the demeanours of someone who had found where he belonged; Remus and Sirius in Andromeda's place, with little Tonks running around; Harry’s grandparents; his parents' wedding and, years, many years later, a memory he found missing, something Harry should have recalled, but didn't.

“I am always with you cub,” Remus had told him when he briefly woke up at Bill and Fleur's cottage, “tonight, yesterday, always! Sirius too, he is always with us.”

Now he knew Remus had really meant it, that he had been there with Harry the day before and would have been if he could have the day after. In Tonks' memories, Remus would break down, with a newborn Teddy in his arms, about not being able to protect Harry and Teddy at the same time. As much as he wished Harry had lived the life of someone his age, he had understood he had to let him fight his own battles, that nobody could protect their kids indefinitely.

“Is it wrong that I miss Sirius and Remus more than my own parents?” Harry asked Ron at the end of the day, after the long planning session was over.

Ron sighed.

“I don't think so, mate,” he replied, “you only know your parents through stories and other people's memories, as awful as that is. Professor Lupin and Sirius were two very real people you got to meet who loved you very much, their love was tangible, I suppose, they are the only family you ever got to experience, if only for a little while, I'm pretty sure your parents would understand.”

“I…,” his friend confessed then, red eyed. “I am grateful I got so many years with Fred.”

“We will get him back.” Harry insisted.

“We will, we will figure it out.” Ron patted his back and walked to the parlour, where Hermione was waiting for them. 

“If we don't,” he added, once there, “we will try again. Maybe it wouldn't be wise for me to leave you alone with Dolohov and his crew, we can always use Tonks' time turner again and save Fred after Remus and Tonks.”

“Ron,” Hermione cut him off, “we have talked about this, Harry and I will be just fine on our own. Besides, we've got to save Sirius first, and we only have a couple of weeks until the second anniversary of his death arrives, and it's too late to do anything.”

“We should do it this week, on Friday,” Harry insisted, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “Sirius is an excellent dueller, we'll have his help in the battle.”

“We don't have the fake bodies yet, though!” Hermione complained. “We've got to hurry up with those transformations, and the confusion spell to make everyone examining them think they are real.”

As far as Harry knew, it was a whole new spell Hermione was creating out of the notice-me-not they had seen Remus and Tonks use in the memories, the regular confundus spell and another one Harry didn't understand very well just yet. They agreed on working on the fake bodies as soon as they woke up, and Harry left to meet Ginny, remembering Remus' comment about her being the only one who made Harry smile. It was a shame the post-war didn't allow it, that Ginny, grieving her brother, had not smiled in a long time, probably as long as Harry.

She didn't understand why her brother wasn't a wreck, and spent his days with his girlfriend helping Harry fix his godfather's house instead of with his family, or why Harry himself wasn't struggling with the effects of the war and the losses.

And sure, Harry had nightmares even during the day, almost every time he closed his eyes, but well, knowing there was a solution for some of it helped a big deal.

“Maybe we should tell your family and Andromeda what we are doing,” Harry had suggested at the beginning of their work together.

Ron had smiled, although it hadn't been a happy one, not at all, but more of a resigned kind, a weak movement in his lips.

“They will only stop us, mate, they'd be afraid we, too, died,” he'd argued. “The time turners, they were supposed to be used to keep Voldy from fucking over with the whole world, they won't approve, as painful as it'd be to do so for them.”

Harry knew his friend was right, but he hated it, lying to Ginny about his dead brother and hiding a possibly deadly mission from her was awful, no matter how positive the outcomes could be.

Still, contrary to what Tonks had written in their letter, Harry was not a kid, he hadn't been since before Hogwarts, and yes, he may have a thing for saving people, so what? Tonks had asked Harry to be selfish, and Harry, for the first time in his life, had decided he would be.

He wanted his and little Teddy's family back, and that included Tonks, even if the world was damned in the process. Harry was done sacrificing himself for Dumbledore's “greater good,” no matter how much he still loved the deceased headmaster. It was time to be a seventeen-year-old, it was time to be selfish.

🌈 🦌 🌸 💚

Travelling back through time was no small thing. Harry was, once again, forced to make open-this-if-I'm-killed letters, only that, this time, it was more similar to the close variation “open this if I do not return.” 

“Your sister is going to kill me,” Harry complained one of those times, after they agreed on not doing such a thing (“they can't know,” Ron argued, “just in case we make it.”). Now, Ron didn't have to know Harry had left Ginny a letter, did he?

Ron had snorted at him, on that particular occasion.

“My sister alongside the rest of our family, mate,” he'd said. And Harry had felt his heart warm at the same time he was swallowed by guilt. He'd been, even then, perfectly aware he could not leave Ginny without an explanation. Besides, he needed someone to follow Remus' instructions in order for Teddy to get to know their family, just in case.

And so he broke the rules (on a more positive note, he wouldn't suffer the consequences of it until they got back, and hey! Living two years in the past, away in the countryside until it was time to save Remus, Tonks and Fred was always an option!).

No seriously, Harry was not afraid of Ginny, he wasn't! She'd be angry, because she had all the right to be angry, and he would beg for forgiveness for the rest of his life. It was as simple as that.

The day before saving Sirius, with the corpses almost ready (not that it mattered, since they did not need one for Sirius), Harry felt the courage to go into Remus' flat, which he had left to Teddy in his will, stating Harry was allowed to use it and take all decisions over it until Teddy was old enough.

He asked Ginny to go with him, since Harry had told her pretty much everything except for the time-travelling part, which is how they ended up exploring the place like maniacs, divided between grief and amusement to see Sirius' old leather jackets at the main entrance.

“These are nearly two decades old,” Ginny gushed in fascination, “he kept them all.”

“Indeed,” Harry muttered, fighting the urge to put them on.

They went over the shelf, and all the books and vinyls on it.

“I can't believe Remus was always this gay and I did not notice,” Ginny lamented when they were done, holding a Bowie vinyl.

“You know muggle music? And why would you have noticed?” Harry asked.

“Of course I know muggle music!” Ginny said in an irritated tone, as if Harry had been insulting her. “Who do you think I am?! No, in all seriousness, Luna and I joined Muggle Studies in  third year just so that we could be together in one class, and it was wonderful. I still think dad's obsession with muggles is weird, it's… What is it called? Fetishizing! But he is right in something: they are smart, creative, and innovative, and we have a lot to catch up on. We discovered lots of muggle music that year, it drove us closer. I ended up taking the subject all throughout school, until, well, until the death eaters came to stay.”

Ginny found the record player, and let out a yell of pure glee. She put the vinyl on, and they danced, together and apart they danced. Harry realised two things while they did: Firstly, it was the first time old Ginny had found her way back since the battle, or rather, since her brother's wedding, and secondly, there were a lot of things he had yet to learn about her.

It wasn't until they closed the record player, which Remus had left open, that they saw what was hidden behind it.

“Oh Harry…”

Ginny hugged him, and he tried to process what it meant, the little can with a few pennies on it and Remus' huge handwriting on the front: 

For Harry.

Remus must have juggled muggle jobs for a while, seeing the muggle money, but that was not all that important at the moment. Harry held Ginny, fearing their next adventure would be one of no return, that he would never do so again.

Just in case, he told himself, just in case it is the last time, just in case she despises me when she opens that letter, let us have this .

🌈 🦌 🌸 💚

Sirius’ rescue was done under the premise: “simple things work best.” And so, they only had to travel to the ministry battle with the same technique they had seen Tonks and Remus use in the memories (an invisible charm and a notice-me-not put together), try not to get caught on a crossed spell and, of course, not to intervene and change the past either, and pull his godfather away just a nanosecond before he fell, but once he had actually been swallowed by the Veil’s white-ish aura.

“It has to be believable,” Hermione insisted for the hundredth time when the day finally arrived. “We can’t let our past selves suspect anything.”

“I have a spell,” Harry confessed, and won a surprised look from both, Hermione and Ron, which made him feel honestly offended. “It slows down time, during a few seconds anyway, and nobody else except for the caster and those touching that person is supposed to notice. I will let his body fly in slow-motion, once Bellatrix hit him, since it was nothing deadly, put an invisible charm on him and pull his feet away.”

Ron huffed.

“I don’t like it, all the pressure is on you then,” he complained. “Why are we here if not to help?”

“To get us out of there,” Harry confessed. “There is also the possibility that the Veil’s natural force pull me with Sirius, so if you could be aware of that and keep me on the ground, that would be fantastic.”

Hermione faced-palmed.

“Of course there are some deadly, side effects to the plan you forgot to mention.”

“UMM… Sorry?”

Ron patted his shoulder and shrugged.

“It’s alright, mate, we’re used to it.”

They arrived at their destination (outside the ministry's main entrance), and, already unnoticeable, turned the time turner two years and a week into the past (which was not easy, conserving they had to get the exact date, mind you). 

The world spinned and they did so with it. Harry did not remember to have felt his queasy the first time around, probably because they only turned a few hours back then. It did occur to him, though, that there was a certain beauty in using a time turner for the second time ever to save his godfather once again.

Four years before, they had avoided his unfair capture and the suck of his soul by doing the impossible, defying all gravity laws and turning back in time. The truth was, there were very few people on this earth Harry would risk the fate of a whole world for, and Sirius Black was up there on the list.

“Come on, we're here,” he whispered when they landed, grabbing his friends' sleeves tightly, given that they were unable to see each other. “Maybe lift your notice-me-not too, or we won't be able to communicate with each other, we can put it back on when it's needed.”

Ron gasped dramatically once he did, as if he were out of breath.

“Oh, thank Merlin, this is stupid .”

“Tonks knew a modification so that those under the spell could hear each other.” Hermione sighed and tilted her head to the side. “They told me they'd teach me how to do it, and then never did.”

“Well, that would've been pretty useful, I reckon,” Ron lamented.

The noise of a herd of Thestrals interrupted their discussion. They paled, looked at each other, and entered the ministry before their younger selves could.

It wasn't until that moment that Harry really realised the time they were in, that Sirius was alive and breathing, and so were Remus and Tonks, and Fred! They were all there, and Harry would see them in the flesh any minute now.

He also became aware of what they were about to do, that, if everything went well, Sirius would be coming home with them. 

Younger Harry entered the department of mysteries, his friends following him. They couldn't intervene, as much as it pained him to see his younger self burst through the doors, ready to save his godfather, only to be tricked by death eaters, it was too risky, a false move and they could revive Voldemort.

No, things must not change, he resolved, at least, no one can know any differently. 

The scene before their eyes was one of pure horror. They followed the kids everywhere, struggling  to keep out of the death eaters' way, and Harry finally understood Tonks and Remus. At least, he thought so.

Is this what they were seeing all along?, he wondered. Kids risking their lives, fighting a war against adults. It was obscene, almost grotesque, younger Harry looked so thin if was a wonder he was standing at all.

He had thought of himself as a fully grown adult, back then, when all he had ever been was that , a scared, troubled teen.

“The Order, they are here,” Hermione breathed.

Indeed.

Harry tried not to stare at their faces for too long, all of these people's faces who he had known and loved dearly. The room of the veil of death became their battlefield, and he noticed things he had missed before.

How Remus blocked any spell coming for him, how he was orbiting around Harry just as much as Sirius, only that from a distance. How Harry had probably been the reason the werewolf had not been watching over his partner when it happened, how he had not gone after Sirius because he was busy holding Harry back.

“Okay,” Hermione whispered in Harry's ear, lifting the notice-me-not once again, “it's almost time. Hopefully Bellatrix's spell will leave him unconscious, it will be scary and confusing otherwise, and he will resist.”

Harry had not thought about that, about invisible Sirius being taken away from Remus and young Harry, screaming his lungs out as three unknown forces struggled to hold him back.

“If not, you make him fall asleep,” he asked his friend, who muttered “I will” and, taking each of their arms to avoid getting lost, took them nearer to the Veil of Death. 

The whispers, as they stood on the left side of it, were unbearable. They called Harry, asking him to join them, and Harry struggled to stay put. They sounded familiar too, they were the voices of people who were long gone, and others who were still alive at that time. Maybe it knows you , he realised, maybe it can read you inside out, no matter the year .

He shook his head and focused.

Any time, any time now…

“Come on, you can do better than that!” his godfather shouted.

Hermione and Ron each grab one of his legs.

Harry drew his wand.

“ Tempus ralent í!” he bellowed.

Last time, it'd seemed to take Sirius an age to fall, and there had always been an explanation for that.

It was him, all along, it had been Harry.

All along, Sirius was supposed to be saved.

His godfather's body went into the Veil from the waist up, and it suddenly turned invisible—it must have been either Ron or Hermione. Harry reached to where his feet had been a second ago, and pulled him towards them.

For less than the span of a second, his skin touched the Veil. He felt the pull, and his friends' effort to keep them both out. They eventually fell to the ground, and Sirius was unresponsive.

He is dead, Harry panicked, this has all been for nothing, he died from the curse—no, but it was not an avada!—or from the force of the Veil. We only recovered his body.

Hermione, however, who must have lifted her notice-me-not once again, looked desperately for his hands, and took them between hers.

“Here,” she muttered, her sobs facing among so many others', “come here.”

Sirius' neck was warm, not like what a dead body should feel like. And there was a pulse, a constant pulse, maybe weaker than it should have been, but completely unmistakable.

“He is alive,” he muttered in realisation, if only to himself.

Only then did he become aware of his surroundings, and, in a mix of embarrassment and horror, understood what his friend had been teary about: the cries coming out of his younger self, along with Remus' desperate begs for him not to cross to the other side, filled the ministry's walls.

🌈 🦌 🌸 💚

The return home was not easy. They had to find an empty room and unmade all spells before they could even manipulate the queer time turner. There was also the worry of how time-travelling would affect a rather weak Sirius, but he seemed to be doing just fine. Of course, Hermione made them visible as soon as they landed in 1998, and apparated them back to Grimmauld.

“Are you sure nobody saw us?” Ron checked when they did. “And is Sirius okay?”

“No one did, I told you so already!” Hermione complained, "we would remember seeing our older selves otherwise, history could have been changed. And about Sirius, he was only stunted, Bellatrix probably realised how close he was to the veil, that she wouldn't need anything stronger than that.”

“Okay, let's leave him in one of the bedrooms,” Harry proposed, trying not to dwell too much on his godfather's sleeping figure. “We'll have to monitor his temperature every once in a while.”

It was only once they left him in his and Remus' old room that they could finally take in what happened.

Hermione covered her mouth with her hands, Ron approached Sirius, touched his skin for a second and put his hand away and Harry… Harry could only stare, and wish real hard it had not been but a silly (and straight up insane) dream.

Someone’s magic tried to break in the house. Harry could feel it, but not as intensively as it used to be, before rescuing Sirius. Of course, he realised, I’m no longer the owner, I’m the heir once again. Obviously, Harry was not even the heir—or didn’t deserve to be in any case, since that was supposed to be Teddy—but wards and house magic would always recognise the person appointed by the owner in a magically honoured will first, only then followed by the rest of the family. 

This person’s magic felt like a thunderstorm. It was strong-willed, emotional, and unstable, everything she was.

“Ginny,” he muttered in fear.

Ron raised an eyebrow at that.

“Why would she—”

“HARRY JAMES POTTER!” Her voice shook the walls of old Grimmauld. “ANSWER ME IN THIS INSTANT OR I WILL—”

“Oh no,” Ron lamented, “Harry, what did you do?”

“I’m alive!” Harry bellowed, shutting the bedroom door behind him and daring to walk downstairs. “We are okay!”

Ginny’s eyes on him felt like fire, and not in a good way, in the same way you would feel facing the incontrollable Fiendfyre flames. 

She hugged him tightly, and it was so unexpected, he could only let out a soft “oh.” It lasted a few seconds, until she pushed him back and slapped him. Ron, who had been watching them from the staircase, with Hermione a few feet behind, took a stepped back, but he wasn’t nearly quick enough to avoid her completely.

“You.”

His friend let out a nervous laugh and shrugged.

“Hahah, hello.”

“How dare you three do this without me!” Ginny sounded firm, Harry knew that meant the decision was already made. “Did you think I would stop you? That I didn’t need to know it was not all lost?!”

“I’m so sorry.” It was the one thing to be said, the only thing at all Harry could say, really.

“Harry wanted to, it was me, I stopped him,” Ron tried to defend him.

“That’s not true, I agreed!” Harry contradicted him, while Hermione shook her head and looked upstairs worryingly. 

“That matters not, not right now,” Ginny cut them both off, “I need you to tell me exactly what is going on, and when we’re doing it. You wanted to go today, didn’t you? It said so in Harry’s letter.”

“Well, actually…”

A male voice made them all stop in their tracks.

“Remus?” It was agonizing, full of pain and fear, the kind you would only experience in a war, the kind they had sworn to abandon forever two months ago, after The Battle of Hogwarts. “Remus! Is Harry okay?! Remus, where are you?! What the hell happened at the ministry? We saved him, didn’t we? Remus! I swear she—my mad cousin, hit me and I don’t remember a thing, answer me! Please! Moons! Where are you, Moons?”

Harry thought that last bit seemed significantly weaker, even more pained, and somewhat guttural, like the cry of an animal, like it was the dog, calling for his wolf. Beside him, Ginny paled and covered his mouth with his hand—not in a sign of surprise, most likely to stop herself from throwing up

“Is that him?”

“He doesn’t know, he—”

“We saved him first,” Ron added, “the time-turner goes up until two years into the past, his time was expiring and—”

“We need him, Ginny,” Hermione filled the blacks, “we need his help to save Fred, Tonks and Remus, and we need Sirius in our lives: Remus, Teddy, Harry… They need him.”

“We are going back,” she understood, “we are returning to that hellhole, to the last day of the war.”

“Remus! Please! What the hell is going on? Why is there so much light? Why is this corridor no longer dark and gloomy? If it’s a prank, I know I’m probably the last person on the planet with a right to say this, but it is not a funny one!” Sirius’ voice was heavy, significantly stronger, and the wood cracked beneath his feet: he was approaching them.

“Sirius, I’m here!” Harry’s heart pounded like this was the last test he would ever face in his life, the most important one anyway. “I’m going up, just promise me to remain calm! I’m okay!”
“Harry?” The relief in his godfather’s voice was evident. “Oh, thank Merlin! What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the feast? It’s the end of the school year, surely you won’t want to miss it? And where is Remus? Please tell me Voldyshorts and his baddies did not get to him!”

He couldn’t do that.

He couldn’t lie to him.

“You’ve been out for a while, school is done!” Is all he said. “Remus is—he is—”

“He will be okay, Sirius, don’t worry!” Ron yelled on his behalf.

“Oh, Ron! Where is your mother and the twins?” For a moment, he sounded delighted, all perspective of war gone from his mind. “Are you lot staying here this summer too?”

“Don’t move! We have a lot to explain!” 

Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione communicated by angry and energetic signs. Hermione pointed at the stairs, at Harry, then at the stairs again, then made a shocked face, hugged herself, but so strongly it looked like she wanted to immobilise herself, and introduced a hand in her magic purse. She gave a tiny bottle back to him, with a word scribbled by hand on it: Veritaserum.

Harry felt his eyes go wide. 

Of course, he didn’t look the same he did at fifteen, Sirius would think they were death eaters, that he had been kidnapped, and they were playing with his mind, so he needed to be held back. And because the truth was, well, almost impossible to believe, he might need an encouragement to be absolutely certain Harry was not tricking him.

It happened exactly like Hermione guessed it would.

Sirius struggled to break free, yelling out coarse words.

“James?! No, it can't be. Where are we? Who— are— you? What have you done to Harry? WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

Harry showed him the Veritaserum, and Sirius sealed his lips together as a sign of resistance.

“It’s not for you,” Harry explained. “I just need you to smell it, to check it’s legit.”

He hesitated.

“Sirius, please .”

His nose approached the opened bottle for barely a second, before he jumped backwards.

“Buff!” he complained. “It’s Veritaserum alright !”

“Thank you, we have an excellent potion mistress.” Harry exchanged a smile with Hermione, who was watching them from afar, and drunk the bottle with a gulp.

“Ask me anything,” he said, already feeling the effects on his body.

Sirius raised an eyebrow at that: he had probably thought he was being tricked somehow.

“Where are we?”

“Seriously? You are wasting the— Grimmauld Place number 13!”

“Don’t try to resist it, you idiot!” Ginny, who had been standing next to Hermione, warned him.

“Okay, who are you?”

“Harry James Potter.”

Everything changed after that.

Sirius’ eyes softened, a few tears appeared around the edges, and his smile grew bigger.

“Harry!” he celebrated. “You are okay!”

Harry gulped.

“Well, untie me!” Sirius looked around and frowned. “What have you done? What kind of potion did you all take? Is Molly aware of any of this?”

He did not respond to any of those questions— or petitions. There were so many it confused the spell.

“Keep asking me things!” he let out. “One by one, for goodness’ sake!”

“Damn, okay.” Sirius sighed and met his eyes. “Where is—?”

“NO!” Harry growled. “Another one!”

“Why are you taller and older and everything?”

“I grew up.”

“How? In a day?”

“It’s been two years since we last saw you, Sirius.”

His godfather looked rather confused than upset.

“No, that’s not possible,” he said. “What happened at the ministry?”

“You fell through the veil, and I thought I saw you die,” Harry answered. “As I said, that was two years ago.”

Sirius paled. 

He was remembering, Harry realised.

“I did,” he admitted. “I was barely conscious, and then I fell a pull towards the exit before I passed out. Was that you?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“The same way we saved you in third year.” 

“No,” Sirius contradicted him once again, “two years is a lot, that’s not possible.”

“Ask away.”

“How did you do it?”

“With a special kind of time-turner the unspeakables created in case Voldemort won. He didn’t, the war is over, and we four used one Tonks was guarding to save you.”

Sirius' eyes were harder at the confession. He did not cheer, Harry guessed because he remembered perfectly well what happened the last time they won a war.

“Harry.”

“No!”

“Harry! I have to ask:” He used his feet to pull him closer towards him, and murmured it so low it would appear he was afraid of the answer, or maybe the term terrified would do him more justice. “Where is Moony?”

“Dead,” Harry croaked, “he died.”

Back in the shack, in third year, Remus had told his godfather the flesh finally reflected the madness within, but oh, it was nothing in comparison with this madness. Suddenly, he was not Sirius any more: instead, he became an animal in pain. It was similar to how a dog sounded when he cried, Harry thought, a dog in human form going through extreme torture that is.
“When? Harry, WHEN?”

“Last month, in The Battle of Hogwarts. It all ended last month.”

“And who else died?”

“Dumbledore and Moody, a year ago. And Fred, Tonks and Remus among many others, in the battle. Tonks explained where the time-turner was in the letter they wrote to me, that’s how we got it. Remus did as well, in his, he told me a lot of things, but the one he knew of is quite complicated to get.”

Sirius gulped.

“They left you goodbye-letters?”

“Only them two, they were prepared to die .” 

“How did you do it, not to change the future?” Sirius was finally asking the right questions.

Harry told him everything, from beginning  to end, he told him the illusion they had created so that his younger self saw him die, and about the fake bodies locked in the basement.

“Are you telling me you've got Fred, Remus and Tonks down there?” He looked indecisive, as if he was not sure about whether he wanted to have a look or get out of the house as soon as possible.

“No, Fred's is in the Weasleys' pantheon, back at the Burrow, and Remus' and Tonks' bodies are buried in Godric Hollow,” Hermione answered for him, “these are extremely realistic copies, so please don't look at them, they are bewitched to make you unable to notice any difference.”

“Wait a second,” Ron contradicted his girlfriend, “if we succeed in saving them three, that means it was supposed to happen all along, that maybe, we never buried them, and all we did was mourning the fake copies we created.”

“Ugh, Ron, let's not go there,” Ginny complained, “I'm getting a headache just at the thought of it all.”

“And we are going to save them, right?” Sirius intervened. His eyes were bright at the prospect, and his smile, bigger than it had been since he woke up. They had a future, he probably realised, a chance for him and Remus to be happy together.

And that's when Harry remembered Sirius did not know about Teddy. How the hell are you supposed to tell someone he had a son while he was dead?

“Believe it or not, we haven't been recreating their bodies for the fun of it, Black,” Hermione teased his godfather. “The most important thing is not to change the past, mostly Voldemort's downfall.”

“Right, how did that—”

“Harry, the antidote.” Hermione searched frantically for the small bottle in her purse, but Sirius was quicker.

“No! I've got to know. How did that happen Harry?”

Harry tried to contain it, he really did, but it was useless.

“So we went hunting for his horcruxes, and we thought we were alone because I fought with Remus, and he had to disguise himself in  order to follow us. He actually saved our asses a bunch of times, but you and him ended up getting Tonks pregnant with that spell only that it took like a year for the magic to took ‘cause you didn't finish it, so he had to stay behind last April when your son was born and then on the 2nd of May it was the final battle when he died, and oh! Voldemort killed me too, I sort of went to him actually, but I was a horcrux he created accidentally when he killed mum and dad, so he only killed himself really. I didn't die, because of the horcrux thingy, and we fought. He had stolen Dumbledore’s wand, which was The Elder Wand, from his grave but because of, like, circumstances,  I was the master, not him, so I sort of killed him? Or he killed himself? And then he was dead, and I destroyed the wand cause like, who needs that sort of power anyway? We were at Andromeda's after their funerals, and there were their letters and in Tonks', it said they had left the time-turner in the same bedroom I was in, and it only went as far as two years into the past, besides we need help for the battle. We saved you first and here we are.”

Hermione poured the antidote down his throat and, for a few seconds, although pale as a ghost, Sirius looked unresponsive. It all slowly came back to him.

“You? Voldemort? Horcruxes? Moony? A son?” he gasped.

“Yes, that's essentially it.”

“Is he—?”

“Little Teddy, oh he's so cute!” Hermione cooed.

“No, for real, he is two months old tomorrow, a healthy, tiny, little guy,” Ron confirmed.

“And his hair is already changing colours, it's wicked!” Ginny grinned and Sirius smiled right back.

“Remus appointed me godfather,” Harry admitted, quietly, unable to meet his own godfather’s eye. 

Sirius' happiness, however, did not waver.

“Of course he did, that's what we both wanted!” And after unmasking the spell bounding him, he was trapped into a tight hug.

“You are grounded until Christmas,” Sirius whispered in his ear. “Oh, that was all so dangerous! Reckless too! You better say goodbye to the sunlight for a while. No, don't laugh, I'm so serious, Harry. Ha-ha, Sirius!

Harry crackled, his throat vibrating against Sirius' shoulder.

“I'm so glad you're here,” he confessed.

“Thank you for saving me, kid.” His voice was soft, like velvet, and Harry did not understand very well why it felt so comforting, why something within him had settled in his godfather's presence.

“So,” Sirius spoke after a while, “who is Teddy staying with? Can I meet him?”

And Harry promised, even though he had no guarantee of ever fulfilling so, that he would, of course he would get to meet his and Remus' firstborn. There was so much he had already been ripped away from, after all, that how could anyone deny him this, when they may not survive their second go at The Battle of Hogwarts? 

🌈 🦌 🌸 💚

Even though he had already been told, Harry got the impression that Sirius did not come to accept he had a son until he held the baby for the first time.

After deciding to make the reunion a reality, they gathered Teddy being two months old the following day gave them the perfect excuse for a visit. 

Sirius was under an invisibility spell, since the cloak was not nearly big enough and often restricted your movements. Harry knocked on the door and held his breath.

“Oh, what a wonderful surprise!” Andromeda’s appearance as she welcomed Harry and his friends inside contradicted the joy in her voice: she had big bags under her eyes, her shirt had a spot of baby vomit in it and her hair looked as if it had not been brushed in a couple of days.

“Mrs Tonks, I'm so sorry for coming here unannounced like this,” Harry apologised. “We brought some gifts for Teddy, since he is two today, but maybe we could take him for the day and let you rest.”

Andromeda waved a hand at him, dismissing his worries.

“Nonsense, Harry, come in, all of you!” she insisted. “And like I've already told you plenty of times before, please call me Andromeda, no need for such formalities inside the house.”

“I just—” Harry swallowed, feeling a lump inside his throat. “I know it's not a good time, but—”

Andromeda smiled, faintly, and squeezed his shoulder.

“Life should always be celebrated,” she said, in a soft voice entirely inappropriate for the person she used to be before the war. 

I can't resuscitate everyone, I can't do the same for Ted, but I'm going to save Tonks , he promised silently, I'm going to bring them back to you.

He had forgotten Sirius was there with them, and did not remember until he saw Teddy. Really, it was a miracle that his godfather had been sensible enough not to show himself to his favourite cousin.

The baby was sleeping in his crib, and woke up to Harry looking at him. He felt Sirius' hand on his shoulder: he was shaking. In the living room, Ron, Ginny and Hermione tried to distract Andromeda, chatting with her about the gifts they had bought.

Harry looked back.

Nothing.

“Come on,” he whispered, “the coast is clear.”

“What?” Sirius asked back.

“Never mind.”

Sirius unmade the spells, he became tangible, and the startled baby in the crib yelled at him, excited to see a new face.

“Fucking hell,” he let out as he grabbed the baby's hand, so delicately it would appear he was afraid of breaking him. 

“Take him, he loves to cuddle in people's arms.” 

Sirius looked at him, at Teddy, and smiled bigger than he had ever seen him.

“Hey,” he said softly as he lifted the baby, whose hair instantly changed to match Sirius'. “it's very nice to meet you Teddy, I'm your daddy.”

“He matched your hair, that means he likes you, maybe he even recognises you, since Remus and Tonks and then us and Andromeda showed him plenty of pictures of you,” Harry told him.

“He is so tiny, not even you were that tiny,” his godfather murmured in an adoring voice, and Harry’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of his birth and early life before Voldemort. 

“You can't possibly remember that,” he couldn't help but contradict him, “me as a baby, I mean. After everything…”

“Aye, Azkaban stole a lot from me, but I have been slowly getting them back,” Sirius explained, little Teddy cooing happily in his arms. “Remus, the Marauders at Hogwarts, the good times I mean, and you . Prongs putting you in my arms and asking me to be godfather, Remus and I, competing for your love by doting you excessively, Moons and Lils dancing to the latest ABBA hit with you in her arms, laughing and laughing and that deathly trap in the shape of a baby broom I bought you, which drove her absolutely insane. It was not all death and suffering, you know? Even when Moons and I began distrusting each other, we could go to you three and put everything else aside, you were our happy place, Harry.”

Sirius pulled Harry towards him, and made no comment about him being  visibly choked up. He then returned his attention to Teddy.

“We are going to get your father and uncle back, eh?” he told his son. “And then, we are going to be a family.”

Sirius kissed his son goodbye, and bent nearer to the wedge, ready to put him back, when a female voice stopped him in his tracks.

“You hurt either of them and I make you scream until you end up in Saint Mungus, consider it payback for Alice and Frank, will you?” 

Andromeda pointed her wand at her younger cousin, his hand trembling, Harry imagined, because of the impossible similarity between him and real Sirius.

“Andy,” Sirius breathed.

“Shut up!” Andromeda shrieked.

“It's not an imposter, Mrs Tonks,” Harry tried to intervene, “we did something.”

“Harry, I know you want to believe—”

“No!” he insisted. “We brought him back ourselves, all thanks to Tonks, we can explain.”

“Harry, my child is dead.” 

“They left me a letter,” Harry insisted, “it was all in their letter. We didn't want you to get your hopes up, so we didn't tell you, or Molly for that matter, we did not want anyone to know.”

“Hermione has some Veritaserum left,” he added, “please let us explain.”

Andromeda’s hand hesitated.

She lowered her wand, Sirius handed Teddy to her, and they joined the rest of the group in the living room. They did it, they told her everything.

“It's you,” she said when they were done, looking  at Sirius as if he were the next best thing, “it's really you.”

“The one and only.” Sirius raised his bare hand in a passive salute, and smiled at his cousin like you do to someone you encounter on a daily basis.

Harry wondered if that was the case, if Andromeda had visited Sirius and Remus at Grimmauld way more often than anyone had ever bothered to let him know.

“Oh, Sirius.” 

She did not weep, or launched herself to his arms, it was not like the movies: Andromeda stood up, put the baby in her arms in the living room's cot and approached Sirius. She held both of his hands, so tightly there was a risk it would mark, and she spoke low, so much so Harry guessed it was all she could afford without her voice wavering.

“You always said we wouldn't miss you that much if you died, but it was absolutely unbearable, you foolish man! Don't do that again!”

Sirius' head fell closer to his cousin, from his seat on the sofa. He laughed, and shook his head.

“You had thirteen years to get used to it, come on!” he joked, ignoring Andromeda's disagreement at that last statement.

He sounded way more perturbed, suddenly, as if a dark orb had been hovering over him.

“I'm so sorry, Andy,” he lamented, “I'm so fucking sorry. We are going to get them back, aye? You will have your child back, and Teddy will get to grow up with his father and, huh, with his Tonks as well, I suppose.”

For some reason Harry was unable to understand, Andromeda's eyes turned cold at that, so cold it felt as if they could really burn the skin.

“Don't make promises you can't keep, Sirius,” she corrected him, “I need you here, alive, rather than joining the dead once again, and so does Teddy.”

“Teddy needs both of his parents, and the uncle who gave birth to him, who carried him nine months inside his womb and shared with him half of his DNA, why not say it?” 

“Better some than none!” Despite the harshness of her manners, what was said out loud was not the cause of Harry's uneasiness: her eyes were clever suggesting what she had left unsaid, and for some reason, Sirius was not the only prey of such predators, he was also it. “Bloody Gryffindors! You five die and then what, huh? Teddy has no one but me , Molly and Arthur grieve three kids instead of one, and Harry loses this war! After everything! Now he's made it! You are sending him back again to die ! Do you really think that's what Remus would have wanted?”

A wild fury ran through his chest.

“This is our plan! We saved Sirius, that was all us!” Harry argued. “We won a war, Mrs Tonks, some of us were tortured or killed, we gave everything up for this journey, ending up losing all we held dear. And I fought that fucking psychopath and won. It's already happened, the Harry of the past will take care of it, and we won't intervene, not on that. We can do it, I know we can.”

Sirius remained unresponsive, his eyes travelling from his cousin to the child in the cot, then to Harry and back. Andromeda, however, shook her head and sighed.

“Don't you think I want my child to be alive and well?” she shot back. “Time travelling is unnatural and dangerous, it could destroy everything. It's not a matter of can, Harry, it's a matter of should. Time is not to meddle with! Besides, Sirius and the rest, they won't be able to return to their old lives, did you think of that? If this is discovered, all of you would end up in prison.”

Despite all of it, Harry felt like he knew better. Why give up when there was a chance to save those you love? In their letters, Tonks and Remus had asked Harry to be selfish, and it was finally time, this was his chance of being  selfish, of making things right once and for all, and, judging their expressions, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione felt similarly.

“I'm not going to let anything happen to them.” Sirius sounded so sure of himself it comforted him, in a way. “Andy, I promise, I really won't.”

Andromeda walked away from him. She grabbed her grandson, Sirius' son, and held him with care.

“Promise him .”

“I already did,” his godfather let out in a hoarse voice, unable to meet the baby's face.

“Sirius Orion Black, promise your son you will all return.”

Sirius shivered, but took Teddy from Andromeda's arms just the same.

"We will return to you,” he said.

“Remember,” added Andromeda just before they went out the door, “better some than none.”

His godfather nodded at that, even though Harry doubted he would ever leave that 2nd of May without Fred, Tonks and Remus.

Better some than none, Harry repeated in loop inside his head. It didn't feel right, for him, that was a trip of full success or of no return. There was no other option, there was no life in which he left them behind.

🌈 🦌 🌸 💚

The corpses looked so real Sirius had a meltdown when he saw them. He crawled to a corner, and pushed fake-Remus with him.

“It's not him,” Hermione tried to tell him while he kissed the dead man's palm and forehead.

“This is how it was,” Sirius argued between sobs, “it's how he looked.”

“Why was he so thin?” he added. “Did he not take care of himself? I always tell him— And the scars! He had not been scared for years, not since he began taking his potion, not since I returned. This is all me, I did this to him, to them.”

Sirius' eyes focused then on Tonks and Fred. Harry realised Ron was not in the room, and Ginny couldn't focus on anything but fake-Fred, who looked exactly like he did after the explosion.

“Take them away,” Harry asked Hermione, “put them somewhere safe, I don't care, but please make them go!”

Hermione nodded, opened a jar made of glass and the bodies were sucked into it.

“What—”

“Do you want me to explain or do you want us to go?” his friend questioned in a smug face.

“Ron!” Ginny yelled in response, making him jump. “You can come out now, let's go!”

The possibility of reverting  the state the bodies were in, the sight of such a thing no one would have been able to process fully, not just from outsiders' stories, helped them all recompose themselves.

And when they landed, the night of the 2nd of May, with the dark mark hovering over their beloved school—the one who had been Harry's first home—all the things he had fought to keep buried, forgotten somewhere five feet on the ground, came back to him.

He felt a hand, Ginny's, squeeze his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” She whispered.

“As okay as I can be, and you?” Harry replied.

“Same.”

Beside him, Sirius looked at the scene in a mixture of fascination and pure horror. 

“This is—”

"Did you ever see something like it?” Hermione asked. “In the first war, I mean.”

“The first war consisted of small fights and attacks leaving half of the people there dead. They were killing us like fleas. At one point, all there was left in the order was us youngsters and old Dumbles. It was brutal, but never… Never this huge. Vold—.”

“DON'T!” Hermione yelled.

Right.

The curse on the name.

“Sorry, Merlin.” Sirius looked at her weirdly, but seemed to shrug it off. “As I was saying, it wasn't in you-know-who's best interests to do something on this scale, not until they got the ministry, which they never did.”

“Right,” Harry intervened. “It's early, it seems, most death eaters haven't arrived yet, much less you-know-who. Hermione has perfectioned the Aurors' technique to make the invisibility and notice-me-not combination ineffective among us. We will leave in two groups.”

“Harry—” Ginny tried to protest.

“No!” he insisted. “I know Hermione has one of those jars in her purse, she'll give you fake-Fred, you stay with Ron, save your brother.”

“No way,” Sirius protested, “I have to take care of you, we go together.'

“There is no time, Sirius!” Harry snapped. “It all happened too close together. Hermione and I are going to fight Dolohov and whoever else killed them with you, and they go do their thing. Just remember all of you, don't ever lift the spells until you take whoever to the empty Room of Requirements, once young Ginny and Neville's gram leave. And please, for the love of god, don't let your younger selves see you.”

“Ha! I won't have a problem with that!” Sirius joked, if only to lessen the tension. It was clear, however, he disliked the plan profoundly. Harry tried to tell him, to let him know Fred's death was not all that dangerous, that he died because of the explosion of a wall and those who did it broke running immediately after, that Ron and Ginny would be safer that way. Maybe Sirius understood, because just after they left, he asked them how it happened, and seemed to confirm his own suspicions with a stern nod.

Harry and Hermione hugged Ron and Ginny before parting ways, and hoped it would not be the last time while doing so.

The castle, from the hill, looked ready to burst into flames, Harry would say. He recognised professor McGonagall, and the effects of the rock statues awakened from the absolute nothingness. The Charm's Professor's barrier would come soon after.

"Come on,” Harry hurried them up, “there are going to be death eaters coming down this hill.”

It turned out to be ridiculously easy not to forget any detail of a story you relieve every night inside your head, no matter if asleep or awake, because Harry guided Hermione and Sirius through the halls reciting to himself where each one of their friends and families were with no trouble whatsoever.

He just knew.

It was the same event stuck in his mind, over and over, and so he knew.

“Remus and Tonks will be fighting out in the gardens,” he told the rest of them, “Remus is in The Room of Requirements right now, and Tonks will follow. They came to help me, along with the rest of the Order. I always do that, if I hadn't been so—”

Sirius stopped him, and put a hand over his shoulder.

“Of course they did,” he corrected him, “you are family. You would do the same for us, it's not anyone’s fault, we should have done things differently, you were a kid and we— I sure hope you didn't blame yourself too much for my death, pup, I'm always ready to leave it all behind for you, that's my job, I'm always going to be here, Harry.”

Harry swallowed, and avoided his gaze.

No matter what anyone said, that day at the ministry would have never happened if he had been smarter, more responsible. Harry thought he would have to simply learn to live with it, and there they were, reunited as if nothing at all had ever happened. He had a second chance, and understood so as he went unnoticed by dozens of familiar faces, and realised he remembered the funerals of some of them.

Bloody hell.

They were there to save his loved ones, and nobody else's. They couldn't change the future, they couldn't save those children, and it was a selfish decision, because all victims deserved it just as much, because they were choosing the lucky ones based on unobjective parameters.

Professor Dumbledore wouldn't have approved , Harry thought.

Fuck Dumbledore, he immediately corrected himself. Maybe we can make more trips, after this one, maybe there is still a chance to save Dobby, Lavender, Colin, and so many others. 

The downside was, of course, that no one outside their close circle could ever know they were not dead, so everyone saved would be forced to take a new identity and move out of the UK. But this was not the time or place to dwell on it. Not while they went through the events taking place two months before once again, and Harry and Hermione saw themselves deal with them.

Seeing one-self was not deadly for the time traveller, who was aware of the situation at all times, but it still felt pretty damn weird in Harry's opinion. Eventually, the battle began, they saw Remus leave and Sirius whimpered at the sight of his partner.

“Let's go,” Harry decided, “Tonks will eventually arrive and follow, but for now, we need to stick up to Remus.”

Remus fought with more than one death eater before facing Dolohov. It was an upsetting sight, the one of his second godfather, whom he had known as his Defence Against the Dark Arts professor—the best one they’d ever had—killing actual human beings. He managed to do such a thing with two of them, a man and a woman, and Harry told himself that this was a war, that he himself had killed a man, the most evil one he’d ever known, that these were death eaters who had caused plenty of harm, but it didn’t make it any better.

The sight was a crude one, yes, but, despite what it may look like for anyone who wasn’t all that aware of the conflict, not in equal parts. Only one side was fighting for freedom for all, though , he reminded himself, only our side fought for a better world. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little sorry at the thought of all the Slytherin children locked up in the dungeons while their parents fought their classmates’ above their heads, even if it was only the fault of those adults who had put their own kids in that position.

Finally, Dolohov attacked Remus. It was nothing major, at first, more like a taunt, but Harry and Hermione had to hold Sirius back. 

“Shhh,” Hermione stopped him, “it’s not time yet.”

Remus used some colourful stunners against his enemy, who laughed as if these did not affect him. The man attacked him with strange spells Harry did not recognise.

“Dark Arts,” Sirius muttered.

“Wolf, Wolfy Wolf!” the death eater taunted him. “Is the beast meeting its deserving ending tonight?”

“You wish,” Remus snapped.

“Hey! Don’t bite me just yet!” Dolohov spoke while casting wordlessly, and Harry realised that it was a strategy of distraction, that he was winning, and all because of old and prejudiced words. “Look at it from the bright side: the full moon last week was your last. And all thanks to me! You are so very welcome!”

Sirius seemed to forget the danger of the situation for a moment, and Harry had to hold him down once again to keep him from attacking the death eater.

Hermione pushed them both to the ground. His jaw hit the pavement; the pain ran through his body, and it took him a few seconds to understand whose spell was thrown their way, landing all too conveniently in Dolohov, who defended himself in time, and acted as if he had eyes everywhere in the field.

“Do not touch him,” Tonks grunted.

Harry couldn't help but stare at them, at how alive they looked, at their fierceness, and remember their memories, everything they'd found out, all thanks to Tonks.

“Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho!” Dolohov laughed in a deep and clearly fake tone. “Look Lupin, your wife! Now, where is the cub? Are we getting a happy reunion? Come on our little wolf! Uncle Dolohov has a little something for you!”

“Their plan worked,” Sirius muttered to them, with obvious relief, “they believed it, even you-know-who must believe it, if he does.”

“But this means…” Hermione interrupted their train of thought, pointing at Mr and Mrs Lupin (if only on paper), who were now fighting the death eater together. “I thought prof— Remus must have been killed first, and yet, look at them. And it was Dolohov who did it, he confessed both deaths in his trial.”

“He killed them both,” Harry understood, “he must be a pretty powerful guy to do such a thing.”

“You know, you two marrying was definitely not what I expected from you," Dolohov said. "Everyone thought you were both inverts… Funny thing, how that works. Rumours, I'm sure…” 

Remus casted a combination of silent spells in response that Harry was unable to catch. Tonks, meanwhile, shielded them from every attack Dolohov could come up with, her experience as an Auror clearly showing in the battlefield. They were a lethal combination, Harry thought, he couldn't even begin to comprehend what happened to make them fall. 

A female voice cried in the background. Harry’s blood ran cold, it sounded too familiar, and it only took him a few seconds to guess whose it was. 

“Lavender,” he whispered to Hermione, and instantly recognised the furry man who had jumped into his old classmate a few feet away from them.

“Oh no, Greyback, this is when…” His friend did not get to finish the sentence. Sirius grabbed her arm, and pointed at Remus, who had turned back and now stared at the werewolf who converted him as if he had forgotten completely what he was doing. 

Remus drew his wand at the man and broke running, desperate to save his old student. That’s when it happened, Harry could see it way before it did, it made so much sense all he wanted was to burst into a bitter laugh.

“Remus!” Tonks yelled.

“AVADA KED—-!”

“Tempus ralent í!”

Time moved even slower, maybe due to the ire Harry had been unable to hold back while casting the spell. The three of them ran towards Remus before the green light could reach him. Sirius caressed his neck, and kept his left hand on his shoulder while, with his right, he casted a sleeping charm on him, and made him invisible immediately after. 

Remus’ body fell on Sirius’ arms, and his godfather clutched onto him. Meanwhile, Hermione extracted the fake body from the bottle, and the two of them made it stand still in the same position Remus had been. The killing curse, when the time spell passed, hit fake Remus straight on the back.

Tonks wailed. 

“You bastard!” they cried. “I’m going to destroy you!”

“Just like I did to your muggle girlfriend?” the death eater teased them, pulling a smug face.

This made Tonks stop on their tracks.

“You?” he stuttered. “No, but I didn’t recognise you! It was— It was you .”

Dolohov chuckled.

“I didn’t recognise you, I didn’t recognise you!” he mimicked them. “See? That’s what happens when you meddle with muggles and mudbloods, you start thinking like them!”

“AVADA KED—-!”

“AVADA KEDAVRA!”

The two green lights met in mid-air, and Tonks’ began getting weaker and weaker. It may have been a strange thing to do, for Harry to think about Bellatrix Lestrange, almost Sirius’ killer, at that very moment, but her voice reproduced in his head, back at the department of mysteries two years ago, telling him you had to feel them, that, for an unforgivable to work, you had to hide enough hatred in your heart and practise, repeat them until your hands fell off. 

That was not the case with Tonks, theirs was about to disappear when he casted the Tempus spell. They did what they had just done to Remus, only that, this time, Hermione approached the death eater and pointed her wand at his face.

"What are you doing?!" Harry yelled at her.

"Revising his memory and removing any trace of abnormality." She explained when she was done. She then walked towards Harry and a sleeping Tonks, levitated her body, invisible to everyone but them, and urged them to move. Sirius refused to do the same with Remus, he carried him in his arms, and, together, they locked themselves in a now empty Room of Requirements.

Nobody but Harry noticed how Sirius had attacked Greyback, and sent him flying away from Lavender on their way there. She had already been hurt, but Harry swore he saw her move, still on the ground.

They heard the first of Voldemort's messages, the same deep and ghostly voice Harry dreamt with quite often at night, while waiting for Ron, Ginny, and a sleeping Fred, who were yet to arrive. 

🌈 🦌 🌸 💚

When Ginny saw herself and Luna get out of the Room of Requirements, she thought the scene in front of her must be that of a memory. Only that she was not Ginny in this memory, was she? No, it felt far more likely that she was a ghost, an invisible presence no one but their alikes could perceive.

"Come on, Ron." She led her brother on the opposite direction. "We've got time until…"

Ron gulped, and nodded. Neither of them was able to say it out loud, yet, there was no need for clarification. Her older brother had volunteered to carry fake-Fred, and was doing so in a different recipient (she knew, of course, this was only to stop her from doing the same thing). Honestly, they'd been lucky Hermione had thought of this and brought with her a second, magically-alterated jar to the hill near the school they apparaited on.

Her thoughts lingered on this for a second,  on the certainty that they would be alright, and Fred was coming home with them. The sight of Luna fighting a death eater fiercely took her breath away.

It hadn't worked between them, not as more than friends, and the worst of it all was that nobody knew, there was no one but Fred aware of the whole situation, not even Harry. In third year, when it first started, it was simply because she'd been quite young, and didn't want to talk about such things with the family; in fact, for some people, Ginny had been too young to know . That all ended after the tournament, after which she began experimenting with boys, and then, last year, after Harry and her broke up, and before Luna was kidnapped, pain and fear drove them closer to one another.

"Do you love me ?" Luna had asked at one point.

Ginny hadn't answered, not at first. She grabbed her by the chin and repeated the question.

"I need to know," she'd begged, "do you love Harry or do you love me ? Or neither of us, that's an option. I'll understand. We can't choose our feelings."

Luna was like that. You could try to explain to her those weren't the kinds of things you should force out of people, and she would reply she was forcing no one to answer. "If the person doesn't want to," she'd reason, "they just can say so . But how are you supposed to find out if you never ask?"

"I can't just choose ," Ginny had broken down that day, "you can't make me. I do love Harry, romantically that is, and I also love you that way and, at the same time, in a completely  different manner."

"How so?"

"Harry's love is… contained, it's one I can keep, and that may sound bad, but it's really not. I think me and him fit, Luna, and we can fit again, my life is better by his side but so is his . And then there is you. You are this goddess I'm retaining on earth against her will."

"That's not true, ginger, how can you say such things?" A tear ran down her cheek. Ginny smiled at the nickname, and caught it before it fell down. 

"Oh but it fucking is!" she cursed. "What can I give you outside these walls? Can you answer that for me? You can't, because you know our love is similar to one of your creatures, Luna. It's a wild force of nature. Some will doubt its veracity, they will say it isn't real and it never was, but you and I know differently. It is unlike anything I will be able to feel again in my life. I'm this mortal drinking Ambrosia who knows she will have to stop eventually, before it burns her whole."

"What if I don't want you to stop?" Her voice was so low Ginny struggled to hear it. She kept her hands on the other girl's cheeks, and kissed her softly, experiencing the salty taste of her tears. 

"That is why I'm doing it. I'm freeing you, my moon, so that when this is over, you go out there and meet your criatures. See the world, and take a soul equally deserving of it with you. I'm not holding you back anymore, just be happy, will you promise me that?"

She did, she promised her things Ginny would never be able to say out loud. 

"Happy Christmas, love, have a safe trip back."

When Ginny arrived at the Burrow, she immediately flooed the twins, and recognised Fred having breakfast in their kitchen. He invited her in, and she told him everything, not knowing it would be a long time before she saw Luna again. She didn't even realise she was coming out to him in doing so, and he never acted like she was.

Now, a Battle of Hogwarts and a half later, Ginny had come to accept her and Luna simply weren't meant to be, that, even if her feelings lingered on, she would have to love her from afar. No, that was not the problem at hand, the issue here had to do more with the brother she and Ron were saving from his death.

"Have you thought about how you wanna do it?" She asked Ron.

Her older brother paled, and shrugged.

"Slowing time and modifying the memories of everyone around sounds good," he said. "I know exactly when it happened: Percy was telling a joke, and it made him so happy, they got distracted, right, and he said…, he said…"

"Right." Ginny squeezed Ron's shoulder, and swore to herself not to go back without Fred.

When the time came, it went exactly how they planned it. Seconds ran by so slowly, even if they'd left the rest of the group's memories intact, which they did not, only a flash could have been perceived by human eyes before fake Fred fell at his twin's feet.

Ginny took the task of sleeping and making his brother invisible, while Ron focused on leaving the scene intact (fake bodies aside, according to Harry, Hermione had been coaching Ron on memory charms practically since the present plans were made).

They left George, Percy and past-Ron behind, Ginny let her brothers cry a fake body and she hadn't expected it to be the hardest part, but oh it was. It was, and there was no adrenaline rush and belly laughs like all those times she'd pictured the scene, not even as she entered the Room of Requirements, Fred, who she had been magically lifting, materialised before their eyes and they went in for a group hug. 

Only grief remained.

"You made it," Hermione whispered.

"Always the tone of surprise," Ron teased.

Harry said nothing, he sniffled her hair and turned to the two men and the metamorphmagus behind him.

"Holy shit," Ginny let out.

"Was this one not aware of the plan or what?" Tonks joked.

"Oh, spare her cousin, it must be hell of a shock to see your dead asses!" Sirius laughed and turned to Fred, asleep on the floor. "Do we wake this one up or do we wait to be back home?"

"We were never truly dead, Pads." Remus softly corrected Sirius, whom he looked as if he expected him to disappear any time now, and squeezed his shoulder before turning to the group. "And I think it may be better to wait until we are back what? A couple of months in the future was it?"

"Yep!" Ginny confirmed. "Teddy is getting so big, you'll see!"

Remus' eyes shined in a somewhat special light.

"Is he really?" 

"I've met him!" Sirius intervened, brightly. "He is a very happy little guy! My only good cousin almost killed me cause I broke in and all and she did not believe I was alive, but other than that, it was awesome."

"You have?" Remus' voice sounded strained. Tonks, meanwhile, shook her head and muttered to Ginny: "I wonder why."

"Yeah," Sirius continued. "They told me everything, Moons, and I went to meet him. I even held him!"

Remus jumped into Sirius' arm; they held the other as if they were at risk of disappearing. It lasted until Hermione cleared her throat.

"I'm sorry, but we should get going," she said.

And so they did. They landed in the same room, two months into the future, and the noise outside gave Ginny a fright.

"It's summer!" she said, horrified. "Are you sure it worked?"

Harry went pale.

"Shit," he cursed. "The renovations!"

They went invisible, and, with Ginny lifting a sleeping Fred in the air, dogged the hundreds of volunteers, among whom they recognised some of their friends, till they were out of the grounds.

They apparated, once in Hogsmeade, in front of the Burrow, and Sirius caught Remus up.

"Okay, so we go in there, give poor Arthur and Molly the biggest scare of their lives, and, once we've proven we are not impostors, floo Andromeda," he repeated.

"Yeah, and Ron and I should go look for my brothers, George first. If we are lucky, he'll be hangover from yesterday, and not drunk yet."

Remus winced. 

"That bad, huh? I can help, I've got experience dealing with drunks," he offered.

Sirius looked back at him, baffled.

"James and I were not that bad!" he complained.

"I was talking about myself," Remus clarified.

And although this surprised Ginny greatly of her old professor, Harry, Ron and Hermione did not even flinch. 

"Okay, here we go," she muttered to herself before knocking on the door. 

Needless to say, her parents reaction was not something you see everyday.

🌈 🦌 🌸 💚

"So you faked their deaths  to avoid changing the past," Arthur muttered, his hand still on Fred's forehead. "Fascinating, I don't understand why we all don't do this all the time."

"We kind of did," Harry confessed. "Is Lavender Brown alive?"

"Of course!" Arthur replied. "She was attacked, but it was not a full moon, she'll make a full recovery. Ginny, you told me that yourself."

"So there you go," Ginny replied.

"Oh Merlin," Arthur lamented. "I'm so glad you are alive, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, and of course my son. But how are we going to tell Molly? And Fred… He will be so confused!"

"I better not be in the room when you do," said Sirius. "He will think we're all dead or something."

“Right.”

At the end, it was decided Arthur would wake Molly up from her nap, and tell her himself. Harry heard the woman’s steps down the stairs, and the wail she let out when she saw Fred laying on the couch. The lost brother groaned, and turned to the other side.

“Mum please, just let me sleep for a bit longer,” he pleaded. 

He then slowly sat upright, rubbed his eyes and murmured:

“Wait a second…”

Molly jumped to his arms, and poor Fred could only hug her back while he examined the people in the room. 

“Ginny, Ron, Harry, Hermione, Remus, Tonks… You are all okay,” he observed. “We did win, then. But why am I still in these dirty clothes? And… I don't understand, shouldn't we all be at the hospital wing in Hogwarts or something? Where is George?”

Ginny laughed and went in for a hug, and so did Ron. 

“You won't believe this,” Harry heard her say before leaving the room.

Sirius and Arthur were waiting outside.

“Are we apparating near George's flat then?” Harry asked.

“Aye,” Sirius confirmed. “I'm leaving proof and all that. Are you coming with us?”

Harry shrugged.

“I suppose.”

And so they did. George had recently woken up and was only hungover, which made things easier. 

“I must be on drugs,” he muttered when he opened the door and saw Sirius, who had barely just removed the invisibility spell.

“Ha! No, it's much better than that.” His godfather passed an arm above his shoulders and invited himself inside. “Your mad little brother, my godson and the clever one travelled back in time with a special time-turner Tonks had let them.”

“Dad? Is that true?”

As soon as he got confirmation, George began to ramble about how they would return to the battle and fix it all. And for once in his life, Harry enjoyed being the bearer of good news.

“It's already done,” he said, “he just woke up.”

George was not okay. Harry realised what he already knew that day, and so did Fred, who squeezed him tightly and murmured “what have you done to yourself? You stupid moron, we talked about this.” Yet, Harry let Remus and Sirius cuddle him on the Weasleys’ couch, saw Charlie, Bill and Fleur reunite with their believed-to-be lost ones and told himself, with a certainty he had not experienced ever before as a teenager in the centre of a war, that they would be alright. 

🌈 🦌 🌸 💚

DAILY PROPHET

GEORGE WEASLEY AND COUSIN FIORD WEASLEY EXPAND THEIR SUCCESSFUL JOKE SHOP TO THE STATES AND CANADA! 

The new shops will be found in the magical neighbourhoods of Toronto, Montreal, New York and San Francisco. “Don't panic!” Mr Fiord Weasley, who will be joining his cousin on this prolific business after co-founder Fred Weasley's heroic death at the Battle of Hogwarts last May, has declared in a written letter exclusively for the Daily Prophet. “It's Christmas, the best time for Hogwarts students to refill their supply, and business will run as usual in Diagon Alley. We are leaving my cousin Ron in charge, and honestly, the original shop couldn't be in better hands.”

On the question of whether more shops would be opened in the UK, Fiord wrote back: “I'm confident that we will, eventually.”

Unfortunately, he seemed reluctant to deny the rumours going around about the immoral use of the money given to the family of Order of Merlin deceased winners (in this case, honouring their son Fred, may he rest in peace) on the family business.

Harry put the newspaper down, and looked at the small, round window. The sky was of a light blue full of clouds which, up close, really did look similar to cotton candy. 

“We are almost there,” Remus whispered. 

Sirius, by his uncle's side, was cooing at little Teddy, who spent most of his days sleeping and had barely cried for the whole flight. He had a soft hat that they couldn't take off at risk of muggles seeing the baby change hairs, but he seemed to be taking it well.

“Hey,” interrupted a whispering voice behind them. “I was really bummed about the fake identities and us not risking it with international porkies and all that. But you know what? This is sick! We are flying the muggle way dude!”

“I told you so,” Remus replied, his voice full of confidence. “Now don't say that word out loud.”

“Which one?”

“Muggle!” 

The passengers around turned to look at them, and Remus, cheeks full red, fell harder in his seat while Tonks, Sirius and Harry snickered.

A few months had passed, since by the time they got their fake documentation ready it was almost Christmas. Teddy was getting bigger, month by month, and so was Sirius’ desperation after having to change his face every time he set a foot outside. Finally, they came to a final solution along with the Weasleys, and this was it. 

George and Fred (ehem, cousin Fiord) were already in San Francisco, where they were headed, and would be waiting for them at the airport terminal.

The New York shop the twins would manage was nearly ready to open, and so was the Toronto one, with Lee Jordan in charge. It made sense that they focused on San Francisco and Montreal next.

Now, if Harry had understood the last few months’ dilemma correctly, Tonks had insisted on moving to San Francisco, because it was queers’ paradise according to them, and so had Harry's godparents.

It all ended one day, when Sirius randomly remembered he was fluent in French—mind you, in Harry's opinion, he was pretty much native, but fluent is the word he had used—and Montreal could be a good destination for their family.

And so Harry had been left with an important decision to make: stay with Ginny, Ron and Hermione and start Auror training or move with them? He would miss them terribly, he already did, but he wasn't even sure he wanted to be an auror, not anymore. No, Harry was an eighteen year old who had barely begun to uncover all the layers that made him who he was, and now he had a family.

“You are going with them,” Ginny had affirmed back when he was still indecisive. 

“No I—”

“I know you, Harry Potter, you still haven't admitted it to yourself, just like you haven't accepted so many other things.” She walked towards him, caressed his shoulder and, after some eternal moments of waiting, kissed him on the cheek. “But you are not letting Sirius, Remus and Teddy go, nor do I think you should.”

“What about us?” 

At this point, Harry's voice had been broken, but Ginny had not even flinched.

“You know, in their letter to you, Tonks suggested something that got me thinking,” she confessed. “She suggested that you…, that you were like me (or like us , I guess).”

“That I am what?”

Harry had not understood what she meant, he still didn't—at least, not fully.

“It makes sense, back when I was a teenager, I felt it was us against the world, that nobody got me like you did.” Ginny forced him to sit, they stayed there, looking at each other in their shared bed inside the flat they had barely had any time to live in. “You liked Cedric, back in fourth year (no, you did, I would notice how you looked at him) and you also liked Cho.”

“I love you .”

“And you love me, ” Ginny confirmed. “And you know what? I'm the same: I loved Luna once, more than you will ever know, and I love you . And that's okay, Harry, it really is.”

“It's not possible,” Harry had murmured.

“It is!” Ginny laughed. “Am I not possible? Are you? Is Bill or Tonks? Here is the thing: you deserve to find yourself, and I need to free you in order to let you do it. I want you to go to Canada, to experience what it's like to have a family and kiss boys in the mouth and us? We will find each other again.”

“No, Ginny…” Harry begged. His hand touched her as she walked away, red-eyed: the sparks remained.  

“It's fate,” she insisted.

These were the last words she would ever say to him before they parted. Words of hope, of what it was meant to be. Yet, at this moment in time, Harry was failing to find comfort in them.

San Francisco was huge and colourful and amazing. George and Fred hugged them all tightly, took them to their hotel rooms and, of course, to the shop.

They spent nearly two months getting it ready, while living in a two-bedroom apartment Tonks had rented for themself in a Muggle neighbourhood. And Tonks had been right to choose San Francisco, or so Harry thought: she took him to some of the best gay clubs out there, and he did it, he kissed boys.

When it was time to meet their final destination, they said goodbye to Tonks and took a flight to Montreal. As it turned out, Remus and Sirius had already bought a house in a magical neighbourhood half an hour away from the city centre. It was actually not far at all from the shop, which was convenient, and had a huge basement Remus could sleep in in a full moon, under the effects of the Wolfsbane potion. 

“Welcome home!” They said as they opened the door.

Teddy, in Remus’ arms, cheered and giggled.

“Home!” he repeated.

It took Remus a couple of months to get back to teaching—since Sirius worked in the shop full time and would usually take Teddy with him. There were small magical schools in most Canadian cities, Harry discovered, and children would often opt to go there instead of Ilvermorny. Still, most would attend the mixed program—which included muggle and magical subjects—and, at age eleven, move on to the “big wizards and witches school,” so classes from eleven years old forwards were fairly small.

Canadians had no trouble whatsoever hiring werewolves,  on the contrary, they were eager to hire Remus, and a bit desperate to tell you the truth: their Defence Against The Dark Art professor was retiring any day now. 

Despite the cold and the French, which Sirius used to teach Remus when they were kids but Harry was working hard to learn, life was good. He spent his days helping Sirius at work, writing letters to his friends and going out with the new wizards and witches his age he had met in the shop. 

That was until, in June, Remus told him the school was opening a training program for wannabe teachers for the following year. Harry applied, and got in entirely by his own merit, since very few people knew who Harry Potter was in Canada.

He had been working there, as the fourth Defence Against The Dark Arts professor in the school (there were up to five, and all belonged to the same department, which Remus was in charge of) for three years when it happened. 

At twenty one, Harry had visited the Weasleys and his friends time and time again, and the same went for Ron and Hermione coming to see them. The Lupin-Blacks would also host a family dinner Tonks usually attended (thanks to their interconnected chimneys) twice a week, Christmas and summer holidays were spent together, and yet, with Ginny training hard for the Holyhead Harpies and travelling back and forth, avoiding contact had proven to be incredibly easy.

He had not thought about her in a long time, not while he was dating Jacks, with whom he had recently broken up. Still, sometimes, she popped up in the back of his mind, for no reason whatsoever.  

“Harry, hey!” The hallways were full of screaming students, running around. Remus left his briefcase on the floor and squeezed Harry's shoulder. “I need you to take the eight year olds to that Quidditch match, remember? It is next week, on a full moon, and I…”

“No, that's okay, I can do it,” Harry confirmed.

Remus smiled at him.

“I will speak to the principal, then.” He glanced at his watch, and grabbed his briefcase. “There is pasta today, so don't be late for dinner!”

“Teddy would never forgive me,” Harry murmured.

At three, Teddy was attending a couple of courses for his age offered by the school, but he still spent most of his days at the shop. He was a chatty, happy kid, and clients tended to love him.

Andromeda had moved in with Tonks as soon as the San Francisco shop was opened. She was in their home constantly, Teddy loved his grandma and Harry knew it made Sirius really happy to have her around. His twenty-first birthday was getting closer, Hermione and the Weasleys were coming to celebrate it and Harry, for the first time in his life, was happy and nothing else.

Yet…

No, he was happy, he really was!

The Quidditch Montreal stadium was packed. Harry and Ivory, a young professor who had completed training with him and soon became one of his best friends, took the kids to the secluded area the school had booked, gave them baskets of sweets to share and binoculars.

“There is one for every two of you!” Ivory warned them. She then turned to Harry and smiled at him.

“Nervous?”

“Oh yes, I hope they win.” 

Harry chuckled, and Ivory tilted her head to the side. 

“I didn't realise you were that big of a fan, but of course! They are from England, aren't they?”

“Yes, and I know a handful of them,” he confessed.

The audience around them roared.

It was starting any minute now.

“That's convenient!” Ivory said. “Wait, was it you that made it possible for us to meet them later?”

Harry blushed.

“Are you hearing this, children? Professor Potter arranged our meeting with the English team!” 

“Thank you so much professor Potter!” Harry's students yelled.

He laughed, and nodded in acknowledgement.

“There they are!” the commentator announced. “The Holyhead Harpies! With captain Ginny Weasley at the front!” 

Harry took a deep breath, and dared to look at her through his binoculars. Indeed, there she was, beautiful, unstoppable, free.

Their eyes met, after the match, and their hands touched.

The sparks had never left.