“Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry, and… Harry.”

“Hey, Potter, catch!”

Harry sputtered and scowled when a snowball struck him directly in the face.

“Damn it, Fred, this is my favorite jacket!” Harry yelled at his ridiculous husband. Fred stood a little behind Harry and Susan, a pyramid of perfectly round snowballs levitating beside his head and a mischievous grin on his lips.

“You’re a wizard, Harry,” Susan sang. She waved her hand and the wet and cold snow going down the front of Harry’s shirt disappeared and dried immediately, leaving him comfortable once more.

“I know that,” Harry snapped. He rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the woods around them, focusing once more on the actually important mission.

“Albania’s cold,” Susan said. “Why on earth would Timmy choose here to hideout?”

“Well it’s bloody secluded, isn’t it?” Fred mused. He bounced a few of the snowballs up and down while he too turned back to tracing his wand across the trees where they were searching for Ravenclaw’s lost diadem.

“Quiet too,” Harry mused with a pointed look at his best friend and his husband. “Split up and search for any feeling of magic.”

“Oh, sure,” Fred muttered while he began wandering off, “I’m sure Susie-Q and I will totally ‘feel’ magic.”

Harry rolled his eyes, but his smirk fell more into a grin. He would have brought Theo instead of Fred, but with it being Christmas Eve, Theo refused to leave Rosie home alone.

It didn’t take long for the three of them to spread out in the woods in Albania where Timmy had once been hidden with only Pettigrew for company.

“OI! I found something!”

Harry turned and immediately began running toward Fred’s voice, his heart racing with both excitement and dread-

If they found it, they were one step closer to ending Timmy.

If they found it, they were one step closer to ending Timmy.

When Harry broke through to where Fred was yelling from, he slid to a stop and nearly fell on his arse in the snow.

“What the fuck is that?” Harry asked blandly, blinking in shock at the shimmering red tent in the center of the clearing. Fred was poking around it with his wand and a bewildered expression.

“A… tent… in the middle of nowhere…” Susan said slowly, appearing in the clearing across from Harry with her wand held tightly in her golden hand. “What do you think it is?”

“Magic,” Fred laughed. He stood in front of the opening to the tent and bounced on the balls of his feet with an eager expression of exploration on his face. “Are we going, darling?”

Harry tilted his head and scrutinized the tent carefully. He could feel the waves of magic coming from the tent, which made it suspicious.

And exciting.

Harry hadn’t had a good fight in a while, hopefully someone in there would want to duel Harry for barging in on their cozy little hideout.

“C’mon,” Harry told the others. He held a finger to his lips and he and Susan crept closer, working in tangent as only they could do.

Fred slowly grabbed the tent opening, pulling it open just in time for Harry and Susan to both dart in, wands drawn, expressions stony.

And then they were ripped from the ground they stood on and were thrown through time, space, and logic to a whole new universe.

“It’s cold,” Gwen whined for probably the tenth time. “Harry, pick a present so we can go get hot chocolate and not lose all of our toes.”

Harry gave a fond smile to Gwen while he inspected the items for sale at the booth they’d stopped at. All of the little trinkets on the table were hand-painted ornaments with different designs. He grabbed a pair of intricately designed trainers, thinking it would be something for Pietro, and an ornament shaped like a sharp knife.

It would be rude if Harry got something for everyone except Psycho, he supposed.

“Finally,” Gwen huffed after Harry paid and added the ornaments to his bags. She linked her arm with Harry’s and rested her head on his shoulder. “Who’s left?”

“Sirius and Tony,” Harry said, already knowing who he still had to shop for.

“Why would you leave your dad for the day before Christmas?” Peter asked. He jogged to catch up to them, he’d been distracted at a booth selling coffee mugs with photos on them and Harry saw he had a new box tucked in his arm, probably for his Aunt May.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Harry grouched. “They’re the hardest ones to shop for.”

“How could a billionaire possibly be difficult to shop for?” Peter asked jokingly. Harry smiled when Peter reached out and laced Harry’s free hand in his- an easy motion, one that every other couple shopping in the little Christmas marketplace were doing as well.

It still made Harry feel special, somehow.

“And you could just ask Sirius what he wants, as he’s here,” Gwen said airily. Harry pulled to a stop and looked around in horror.

“Where?” he whispered. Had Tony’s stalking behaviors been passed along to Sirius?

“There,” Peter said, pointing across the road to where two blokes were standing by a booth selling wine. It was sort of a cute scene, Sirius and his boyfriend laughing together over a shared glass of wine, and Harry let go of Peter’s hand long enough to snap a photo, but ultimately Harry wanted to get as far from Sirius as he could before he noticed him.

“You don’t want to say hi to your godfather and his weird boyfriend?” Gwen laughed when Harry turned their group around and immediately headed in the opposite direction.

“And let Sirius embarrass me for the rest of the night? No,” Harry told her firmly. “Let’s, er…”

“Oh, look!” Gwen perked up and pointed at a bright red tent with a sign promising hot chocolate and ‘Christmas Magic’. “Let’s go in here and warm up!”

“Er… alright then,” Harry agreed with a shrug. “What could it hurt?”

When the three of them stepped through and Harry immediately felt his feet being ripped from the ground, his grip on Peter and Gwen tightening, Harry knew he shouldn’t have said something so bloody daft.

“Hey, you.”

Tyler smiled full on, flashing his dimples and his blue-grey eyes, when Harry and Wednesday entered the Weathervane.

“Hello, Tyler,” Wednesday said coolly. Harry was pretty sure that smile and greeting had been for him, but it was funnier that Wednesday answered him.

“I… I kind of thought we were hanging out together, alone,” Tyler stressed when he came around the counter to drop his apron on the hook by the emergency exit.

“Sorry,” Harry said with a small shrug. “I had to have an escort and I had to keep Wednesday from killing Enid.”

“I was not going to kill her, I am going to smother her in her sleep with her fluffy pillow,” Wednesday scoffed.

“Uh… why?” Tyler asked, bewildered.

“Enid decorated their room for Christmas,” Harry told him. “It’s all colorful.”

Tyler grabbed his denim jacket beneath the register and popped up with two styrofoam cups, one he handed to Harry who accepted it with a shy and genuine smile.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” Tyler said, continuing the debate after pulling on his jacket and grabbing his own drink. “Why shouldn’t Enid decorate?”

Harry sighed and opened the door for Wednesday and Tyler so they could walk around the square and see the Jericho town decorations and little shops set up with treats for sale. Harry was rather excited to go look around, privately he thought it was sort of… romantic.

An idea he didn’t dare share with his cousin before she butted in on his date.

“It’s an archaic adaption of Pagan beliefs that have been twisted to appease capitalism,” Wednesday told Tyler while they began to walk. Harry, who heard her rant the entire twenty minute walk to town, didn’t feel too guilty about tuning her out while he happily looked around the square and held Tyler’s hand.

It was really Harry’s first Christmas, since he didn’t count the days in St Brutus’ or lockup as an actual holiday, and he’d never been so excited before. Originally, Harry and Wednesday were going to go to the Addams’ home for Christmas, but then Gomez and Morticia decided to go to France to see some of Morticia’s relatives and Harry and Wednesday decided to stay at Nevermore for the break.

Tyler nodded along to Wednesday’s speech, but Harry could see the bored look in his eyes and he repressed an inappropriate laugh and instead tried to find something to distract them.

“What’s that?” Harry asked, pointing toward the stage set up in the middle of the square. It was empty aside from Christmas themed decorations lining the edges and a few random instruments.

“It’s supposed to be for a band, but my dad said that they cancelled this year,” Tyler said with a furrowed brow. He blinked, smoothing away the crinkle, and grinned playfully at Harry. “You can jump on the keyboard and I’ll play guitar, we’ll make Wednesday sing and entertain everyone.”

“I do not sing,” Wednesday hissed while Harry laughed. “And I certainly do not entertain others.”

“You entertain me,” Harry told her, both genuinely and teasingly.

“Don’t be crude,” Wednesday said without any real heat to her tone. “How long must we participate in this facade before we can leave?”

“Er… a while longer,” Harry said hesitantly when Tyler looked toward him for a response. “Can we just- just look around a bit?”

Wednesday rolled her eyes, a silent concession Harry assumed, so Harry let Tyler pull him toward a booth giving out cookie samples.

Despite Wednesday’s dislike of Christmas (and what was there to not like?!), Harry was having a blast as the three of them worked their way around the square, occasionally stopping to talk with other students who came for the festivities.

Christmas was ten times better with friends and freedom, Harry was sure of it.

“Wanna check this out?” Tyler asked, pointing toward a red tent sitting between a booth selling blankets and one selling something called a taco in a bag. The tent had a sign out front promising ‘Games and Christmas Magic’, so Harry shrugged.

“Alright,” he agreed, relieved that Tyler had pointed it out and Harry didn’t have to. “C’mon, Wednesday.”

Wednesday grumbled the entire time, but she still followed Harry and Tyler into the tent.

And then Harry was sure he heard a ‘I told you so’ as they were abruptly whisked away with the sickening feeling of being yanked very hard behind their navels.

Harry pulled his hat low and put on a pair of sunglasses, thanking God that there were much more interesting characters than the guy walking around with shades in the dwindling daylight. It had been a long day, between a photoshoot for Vogue and a meeting with his sponsor, and all Harry really wanted to do was grab a drink.

But since he didn’t drink - two years, seven months, eleven days, and… four hours - a cigarette and a double date with Ron and Luna had to settle for a second best choice.

Times Square on Christmas Eve wasn’t really Harry’s idea of a date, but Ron said Luna was insistent since they hadn’t actually been in New York for the holiday in the last few years.

“Ready, Harry?” Theo asked Harry with a smile.

Harry sighed and twisted his cap to the side so he could lean across the center console in Theo’s car and kiss him.

“As I’ll ever be,” he sighed.

“It’s Christmas,” Theo said drily when they got out of the car and linked hands, joining the crowds to search out Ron and Luna. “What’s wrong with Christmas?”

“My idea of a good holiday involves the sand, the sun, and about a thousand less people crowding me,” Harry scowled.

“Excuse me, Mister Big Shot, that I like snow and Santa,” Theo drawled with a roll of his eyes. “It won’t feel like Christmas if we’re on some beach sipping virgin mojitos.”

Harry grabbed his other wrist and pulled him to a stop, face to face.

“Will it feel like Christmas if I unwrap your clothes real slow and gift myself with you?” Harry murmured, pressing a slow kiss just below Theo’s ear. “We could be in Hawaii before sun rises, love, just say the word.”

Theo pulled away, visibly flustered, with a spark of interest in his deep brown eyes.

“Did I say I don’t like the beach?” Theo asked, smirking at Harry. “Love it.”

“Let’s go then,” Harry suggested smoothly, internally gleeful for the idea of fleeing the cold and the snow for a couple of weeks. “I’ll call Fred, you call Luna, tell her we can’t—”

“Can’t what?”

Harry groaned and turned around to see his bassist and best friend, Ron, standing beside his petite little wife Luna. Luna was amazing, truly, the fact that Harry was sober and alive was a testament to her character more than his, but she was also insistent and manipulative and Harry doubted if he’d be able to hastily fly out of state now that she spotted him.

“Can’t wait to go look around, of course,” Theo said, flawlessly covering for Harry. He stepped over and shook Ron’s hand before accepting a hug from Luna.

“You promised we’d have Christmas together,” Luna whispered to Harry when she hugged him too tightly.

“I also promised NBC that I’d host the ball dropping on New Year’s Eve, I’m a liar,” Harry said shamelessly.

Luna pouted, but not as hard as Ron did.

“We’re not playing on New Years?” Ron asked. “Mate, my mum is flying in for it. D’you have any idea how much she hates to fly?”

Theo wrapped a consoling arm around Harry’s waist when Harry groaned aloud.

“It’s fucking cold here,” Harry told Ron, a slight whine in his voice. “I hate it.”

“You grew up here,” Theo said with a raised brow.

“Exactly,” Harry said, “so I’m a bit of an expert on how much it fucking sucks, aren’t I?”

Ron chuckled and patted Harry’s shoulder consolingly. “January first you can piss off to whatever beach you want, until then, we’ve got holidays planned, mate.”

“We’ll find some Christmas magic to cheer you up,” Luna said with a sweet smile. She tucked her arm in Harry’s and effortlessly guided them back to the crowd.

Whatever ‘Christmas magic’ Luna thought she’d find for Harry clearly wasn’t in Times Square because Harry and Ron were rushed after a mere thirty minutes and got caught up handing out autographs.

“Wear a fucking disguise next time,” Harry whispered to Ron from the corner of his mouth. He kept up his rockstar friendly smile while he signed CD’s, shirts, foreheads, but fuck if he wasn’t exhausted.

“Sorry, mate,” Ron said sheepishly. “I forgot.”

Harry wished he could forget. He wished that for just a day he could walk through the city and not be surrounded by fans of their band, paparazzi, or tabloids with ridiculous headlines printed across them about him.

Liquid Luck was one of the greatest parts of Harry’s life, but it came with a hefty weight.

“Hey, you mind distracting Luna for a bit?” Ron asked hopefully once the crowd thinned and they were able to slip away. “I need to, uh… find something.”

Harry gave him a disbelieving look. “You don’t have a gift for your wife yet?”

“She’s so bloody hard to shop for,” Ron sighed. “She’s not a jewelry and clothes kind of woman. She’s- she’s different. She likes odd stuff—”

“Like pink porches and dresses made of boas and beads?” Harry smirked.

“Exactly,” Ron laughed at the reminder of the dress Luna designed herself for their last major show in Australia. “Makes me wild sometimes, trying to find something perfect for her. Oh!” Ron perked up and his blue eyes widened, “What’d you get Theo?”

“A new car,” Harry said blithely. “It’s a Mazda Sport, fuel efficient and safe for him to transport kids.”

“Of course it is,” Ron said, deflating. “You’re bloody impossible too. Just give me like an hour to look around, alright? I’ll catch up.”

Harry waved him off with fond exasperation. It was very like Ron to put off shopping until the literal last minute, and it was also very like Luna to immediately call him out for it when Harry caught up with her and Theo.

“Ron’s went to find me a gift, hasn’t he?” Luna asked with a pink cheeked and sweet smile. “My poor darling, he forgot he bought me a bracelet last month and hid it in his closet.”

“Theo hid mine in my own fucking safe,” Harry said with a deadpan look at his boyfriend. “It’s betrayal, Luna.”

“How’d you know that?!” Theo demanded indignantly. Or, as indignant as a guy could look with a blue beanie on and a green scarf wrapped around his neck.

“I tried to get in the safe, it said the passcode was changed,” Harry told him. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”

“Why were you trying to get in your safe?” Luna asked, abruptly sharp as nails.

Harry didn’t have a great reason, sometimes he just liked looking inside his safe and seeing that it was empty. No drugs, no pills, no hidden stash for emergencies. It was empty and Harry was alive and it was nice to remind himself sometimes.

Other times, Harry looked in the safe with a perverse hope that something to take the edge off his day would magically appear.

“Nostalgia,” Harry told Luna airily. “Come on, suppose we should walk around before I freeze to death.”

Luna hummed, but she knew Harry wouldn’t lie to her. And God himself knew that Harry’s chips meant more to him some days than his own life, so it was a moot argument to have.

Instead, the three of them tried to stay warm while they walked around browsing the wares set up for sale. Harry kept his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets and eventually caved and risked frostbite to his fingers to have a smoke.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Harry said when he’d just pulled a smoke out for himself and Theo. There was a tent off to the side of the square with a little wooden sign out front that stated ‘Smoking Friendly’. “Theo, c’mon.”

Theo turned away from the Animal Shelter booth he’d been staring at - Harry was not getting some flea-bitten dog to chew up all his equipment - and saw where Harry pointed at the tent they’d be able to hide from the cold and smoke in.

“Wait for me,” Luna cried when Theo immediately moved toward the tent with Harry. Luna snatched one of the pamphlets from the booth advertising the most pathetic pets Harry had ever seen, and jogged to rejoin the two men.

“Maybe Ron will get me a kitten for Christmas,” she said happily. “He says he hates cats, but I think he’s just—”

What Luna thought Ron was was lost to Harry’s ears in favor of Theo’s surprised yelp when they stepped in the tent and immediately felt like they were being pulled through the dark in some sort of teleportation or something.

Harry loved Forks, truly. He loved the little town his home sat in, he loved the forest that surrounded him and no longer gave him anxiety to explore, and Harry loved being so close to Jasper’s family, his own Black family, and Bella’s dad.

Forks was wicked awesome and Harry loved it.

The weather in Forks was utter bollocks and Harry despised it.

“You feel sad,” Jasper murmured. The two of them were in Jasper’s old room in the Cullen home, lounging around in bed and generally passing the time away together in the laziest way possible.

“I’m not sad,” Harry stressed, looking out the window morosely. “I’m just…”

“Sad,” Jasper supplied when Harry trailed off and heaved a sigh. “Why?”

“It’s the weather,” Harry explained, feeling petty and ridiculous. “It’s just- Christmas should be snowy, you know? At Hogwarts we always had snow and we’d all go have snowball fights and it- it was just some of my best memories there.”

“Mm,” Jasper hummed and wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist, nuzzling his nose in his throat. “Do you want to have a snowball fight, darlin?”

Harry smiled and made a low noise in his throat when Jasper lightly nipped Harry’s neck with his teeth.

“Not the point, Jazz,” Harry breathed. He stretched his neck to the side, hoping Jasper would keep up what he was doing. “I just think Christmas should be white, not… bloody grey.”

“I could distract you from your disappointment,” Jasper said while his lips continued working genuine magic on Harry’s neck. “Perhaps we could make this a new tradition.”

“Yeah?” Harry rolled over so he could be facing Jasper on the bed they put in his old room for Harry’s benefit. “Christmas Eve shagging, love?”

“It’s the best kind of shagging,” Jasper drawled with his golden eyes locked on Harry’s green ones intensely. “And I can prove it to you as many times as you want.”

“Challenge accepted,” Harry said. If Jasper wanted to spend their evening wrapped up in each other in bed, who was Harry to say no? He’d made the room as soundproof as was magically possible, so it wasn’t as if anyone could hear them.

And they could have spent the entire night that way, just driving the best sort of noises from each others mouths while they languidly explore each others body with their hands… mouths… tongues…

But Harry didn’t account for one very bloody annoying psychic interrupting them.

“Harry! Jasper!” Alice’s high pitched voice and her fist beating on their closed door interrupted Jasper’s ministrations just when Harry thought that he was going to get off.

“Put your clothes on and come downstairs!” Alice cried. “It’s super important!”

“Someone better be dead,” Harry growled. He rolled on his side and groaned. “I hate your sister.”

“I do as well,” Jasper assured him. When Harry looked over he saw that Jasper was already dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants and his Weasley jumper from last Christmas.

Bloody vampires and their super speed.

Harry threw on his own Weasley jumper, the match to Jasper’s, and caught a pair of his sweatpants when Jasper threw them to him.

“You look like you were moments away from bliss,” Jasper breathed in Harry’s ear when they descended the stairs together. Harry blushed furiously and attempted to smooth down his hair.

“Well you look…” Harry looked Jasper over from the top of his honey blonde hair clear down to his socked feet. “Perfect, actually, you bloody prat.”

Jasper was still chuckling when the two of them entered the Cullen’s living room and found Alice, Rosalie, Edward, and Emmett all waiting for them.

“Finally,” Emmet guffawed with a waggle of his burly eyebrows. “Were you a little distracted, little bro?” he teased Harry.

“There was nothing little about what he was distracted by,” Jasper smirked, wrapping his arm around Harry’s waist. “What was so important that our presence couldn’t have waited another five minutes?”

“Five minutes?” Emmett laughed loudly, his deep voice echoing around the relatively empty house. “Damn, Jasper, you need to work on your stamina.”

Harry, who was sure his face was single-handedly heating the entire house, scowled at Jasper’s brother.

“We didn’t come down here to listen to your jokes,” he said with as much haughtiness as he could muster. “Alice, what’d you want?”

“Catch!” Alice said cheerfully before throwing a bundle of something in the air for Harry to catch. Harry unwound the thick maroon fabric and was rather bemused by the parka coat, wool hat, and gloves he had.

“Er… it’s not Christmas yet?” Harry said slowly.

“It’s not a Christmas gift, it’s for you to put on,” Rosalie said with an amused quirk of her red lips. “Alice says we’re having a snowball fight.”

“How?!” Harry demanded, waving an arm toward the windows and nearly dropping the hat Alice got him. Jasper caught it before it even hit the floor though and gently sat it back on the pile of snow clothes. “It’s raining, Alice!”

Edward grinned smugly, clearly he was as uninterested in having a snowball fight as Harry now was. Sure, like an hour ago maybe he’d wanted to go do something childlike that would bring back brilliant memories of his school days, but then Jasper kindly reminded him that he was an adult (sort of), and there were much more fun adult activities to participate in.

“Oh, no, if only one of us had the ability to transport us away from Forks to somewhere guaranteed to be snowy,” Rosalie drawled with heavy sarcasm. “Pity, whatever shall we do?”

Harry didn’t stomp his foot, but not for a lack of wanting to.

“Tomorrow?” he pleaded with Alice, knowing it was as good as pointless. If she bought Harry a coat, then they’d be going. “Please, Alice, I’m exhausted.”

He wasn’t, but he was… preoccupied.

“Tomorrow we’ll have Teddy and can’t really play,” Alice pouted. “Please, Harry? I know you’re going to have so much fun.”

Harry doubted that, but there was rarely any point in arguing with Alice. Harry resigned himself to having to go have a snowball fight with five immortals with super speed, immunity to the weather, and wicked aim.

Sure, Harry had magic, but he doubted if that was going to help him too awful much.

“Where are we going?” Harry sighed after pulling on the coat and winter gear. Rosalie quickly ran up the stairs and back, before Harry could even zip his coat, and handed him a pair of thick boots to wear.

“Alaska!” Alice squealed, her pixie like face lit up with enthusiasm. “And you should take me, Edward, and Emmett first since we’re going to be on a team.”

“Which team wins?” Harry asked Alice when he laced his fingers in her smaller and cooler hand.

Alice wrinkled her nose up for a minute before smiling impishly. “No idea, let’s go!”

Shockingly, Harry didn’t completely hate running around in the snow with the Cullen’s. He, Jasper, and Rosalie quickly built an impressive fort in the snow and had a cache of snowballs to defend it with. Emmett’s snowballs were sure to leave bruises on Harry, but what Harry lacked in strength he made up for in magic.

And he’d nearly laughed himself sick when he bewitched a snowball to bounce off Edward’s head, just as Fred and George did to Quirrell back in Harry’s first year at Hogwarts.

“Time to retreat, darlin,” Jasper laughed when Alice jumped from the branches above them directly in their fort, crashing through the snow roof and waving her arms to throw snowballs at them all.

Harry sputtered when Jasper scooped Harry up in his arms bridal style and began running beside Rosalie deeper in the woods, but truthfully he rather enjoyed being wrapped up in Jasper’s arms.

“You’re whipped,” Rosalie told Jasper with a click of her tongue. “Harry can walk, you know.”

“Mm, no, Harry can’t,” Harry disagreed cheerfully. “Unfortunately my legs are broken and I must be carried around. Don’t be jealous, Rose, green isn’t your color.”

“Every color is my color,” Rosalie sniffed. “Oh, wait, what’s that?”

In their haste to escape the others and their snowball attack, they’d nearly ran right past a shimmering red tent that stood out in the white snowy forest they were playing in.

“Er…” Harry struggled in Jasper’s arms to grab his wand from his coat pocket. That tent shouldn’t be there and it seemed magical.

It reminded Harry all too much of another magical tent that kept going places it shouldn’t have been.

“Investigate or wait for Alice?” Jasper asked, his muscles tense now as he prowled around the tent.

“Investigate,” Harry said immediately.

“Wait for Alice,” Rosalie said at the exact same time.

Harry stuck his tongue out at his second favorite vampire, a juvenile gesture that looked that much more immature from the way Harry was being carried.

“Don’t be a chicken,” Harry taunted Rosalie quietly. “C’mon, let’s see what’s inside…”

“Your impulsivity will get you killed one day,” Rosalie muttered darkly.

Harry grinned at her while Jasper sat him on his feet.

“Been there, done that,” he joked. “Come on, what’s the worst that can happen with one wizard and two leeches?”

The worst that could happen, apparently, was stepping inside the tent and immediately being jerked away to somewhere that Harry was sure would not be fun.

Harry had his knife out immediately before his feet even touched the ground.

He looked from side to side, clocking Susan and Fred still with him, and then narrowed his eyes at the little snow covered shop they faced. If Harry was anyone else, he would have called it ‘charming’ with its wooden walls and the smoke puffing through the chimney. Except Harry didn’t find it charming, he was on edge and ready for a fight.

“Who is it?” Fred breathed, his wand out and his eyes narrowed, ready to fight.

“Timmy?” Susan guessed quietly.

Harry tried to not snort, because they needed to be quiet, but really? Why would Timmy be hiding in a tiny little wooden shack in the fuckin woods?

“No idea,” Harry whispered. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Fred and Susan said at the same time.

They moved as one- too used to duels and fights for their lives to not move vigilantly. Fred, with the longest arms, reached for the doorknob and threw it open, and they burst in with wands and weapons brandished.

Susan froze and kept her wand raised, looking around slowly at the people filling the simple one room cabin.

“Bloody hell,” Fred laughed nervously. “There’s more of him.”

Harry pinched his wrist, but even the sharp pain couldn’t convince him that he wasn’t dreaming when he looked at four other Harry Potters all staring back at him with identical green eyes.

“What the fuck is going on?”

Harry grimaced when it felt like Peter was cutting off his circulation in his hand.

“Spidey senses do not like him,” Peter murmured when the newest Harry bloody Potter walked in with Ron’s brother Fred. The newest Harry was probably one of the shortest in the group and yet Harry didn’t need Peter’s enhanced senses to know that he looked like the cruelest one.

“Spidey senses do not like him or her,” Peter amended himself, nodding subtly toward the redhead girl who walked in with the new Harry.

The other Harry’s varied from normal looking- like the one with the creepy goth girl, and the one with the overly gorgeous blondes -but none of them really looked a lot like Harry.

Aside from their eyes.

Merlin. Did they all have Lily Potter’s eyes and the same thick black hair?

“Hi, Susan Bones,” the girl with the smallest Harry stepped forward and Harry squinted at her. He hadn’t been at Hogwarts in a while, but she didn’t look much like the Hufflepuff he used to share classes with. For one, she dressed a bit like what Tony would call a hooker, and for another, she had an arm that could be the golden twin to Bucky’s mechanical-arm.

Susan twirled her wand between her golden fingers while her eyes roamed slowly from person to person inside the odd little shack they shared.

“Who are all of you and why have you brought us here?” Susan asked them. Her eyes lingered to Harry’s left and he glanced over to see Gwen smirking at the girl in an incredibly odd way.

“I’m Harry,” Harry said, prompting the others to begin making introductions.

“Peter,” Peter said.

“Gwen.”

“Harry,” the Harry with the goth girl said.

The boy with the dark blonde curls beside him lifted a hand. “Tyler.”

“Wednesday,” the goth girl said coolly.

“I’m Luna Weasley,” the blonde woman said without removing her hand from the lower back of the bloke whose back she was rubbing.

“Luna Weasley?” the shortest Harry with the long facial scar said. He stepped forward and narrowed his eyes at her. “Who’d you marry, then?”

“My buddy, Ron,” the Harry beside ‘Luna Weasley’ said hoarsely. He was the oldest of the group, probably mid-twenties, and he looked the most terrified. He also had an odd accent, like Tony’s instead of the rest of the Harry’s.

“You married Ron? What happened with Draco?” Fred cried.

The American-Harry flinched and the bloke beside him curled his lip in obvious dislike for a split-second.

“Well Draco is rather dead,” Luna Weasley said with a mournful glance toward her American-Harry. “Sorry.”

“Hi, Rosalie Hale,” the gorgeous blonde girl with another group said. She stepped forward and smiled and Harry didn’t need Peter’s tightening grip to know that she was just as deadly as she was gorgeous.

“Harry Potter,” the Harry beside her said.

“Jasper Potter,” the blonde bloke with him said.

“Wait, what?” The brunette bloke with American-Harry stepped forward quickly. “You two are married?”

“Er… yeah?” The Harry with the two blondes shrugged. “Why?”

“You’re a child!” The dark haired man cried in the same American accent that his Harry shared. He spun around, looking at all the Harry’s slowly. “You’re all children!”

“Fuck you,” short-Harry drawled. “Who the hell are you?”

The American-bloke reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out an ID. “Theo Nott, I work for the state of New York. How old are you?” he demanded, turning back to the Harry that was married to the blonde bloke with the accent.

“Not the time, Theo,” American-Harry muttered. He scrubbed his face with his hands and looked around slowly. “I’m about to freak the fuck out.”

“Have a cigarette,” Luna Weasley ordered American-Harry immediately. She patted down his chest and grabbed a pack of cigarettes from his leather jacket and slapped them in his hand. “How long?”

“Clearly I’m fucked up right now,” American-Harry muttered as he desperately grabbed a cigarette and lit it. “Theo put smack in my coffee.”

“I did not!” Theo wailed indignantly.

“I could use some smack,” Peter groaned. His muscles were taut and Harry tried to console him, but as he was rather bemused by the entire situation, he wasn’t much help.

Harry was breathing slowly and trying to keep from hyperventilating in a room full of crazy people. It wasn’t really working though, because he could see black spots beginning to fill his vision.

“Breathe,” Tyler murmured. “Like Kinbott taught you, just in and out, real slow.”

“Oi!” Scarred-Harry stepped toward American-Harry and caused Harry to jolt. “Give me one.”

Apparently they worked on some universal code of insanity because American-Harry tossed him his pack of cigarettes while the dark haired man beside him began muttering about ‘kids getting married and destroying their lungs’.

“I can’t breathe,” Harry hissed to his cousin. His lungs were so tight he was sure he was about to die. “Wednesday…”

Wednesday sighed and grabbed his shoulders tightly, shoving him to the floor.

“You’re bothering my cousin, stop,” she ordered the rest of the occupants in the room. “I have some questions and you’re all going to answer them. First,” she spun around and pointed at the Harry that didn’t really fit in, “you claim to be Harry, but you are not an Addams.”

That Harry blinked at her and Harry could sort of see what she was saying; he didn’t look much like James Potter at all.

“Er… Stark, actually, Potter-Stark,” he said.

“You’re adopted?” The Harry that was married to the blonde bloke, Jasper, asked interestedly.

“Not… quite,” Harry Stark said slowly with a grimace. “Er… my dad Tony is my biological dad.”

“Not James?” Harry asked, finally finding his voice.

Harry Stark shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, he’s my dad too.”

“Ooh, are you from some world where two men can have a biological child?” The red headed bloke beside Scarred-Harry said eagerly with a wink toward his Harry.

Harry Stark sighed and his face turned red. “No. Tony… Tony had a threesome with my parents and knocked up my mum.”

Harry, Scarred-Harry, Married-Harry, and Wednesday all said ‘Ew’ at the same time. Susan and the red-head not with her both laughed and smirked at Scarred-Harry.

“Delightful,” Rosalie Hale smirked. “Speaking of supernaturally weird things happening, are you all magically inclined?”

All of the Harry’s except for American-Harry raised their hands, as did Susan and the red-head bloke.

“You’re not a fuckin wizard?” Scarred-Harry demanded of American-Harry. He flicked a pocketknife back out of his shirt sleeve and aimed it at American-Harry.

“Wizard?” American-Harry said. He looked around at the others and swallowed hard. “You’re all- all wizards?”

“Vampire, actually,” Jasper Potter drawled in his odd accent.

“Also vampire,” Rosalie smirked.

“Psychic,” Wednesday said proudly.

Tyler didn’t say anything, but Harry didn’t expect him to.

“And I’m an investigative journalist,” the girl who called herself Gwen said brightly. “Peter’s Spiderman.”

“Gwen!” Peter yelled, turning shocked eyes toward her. “You can’t just tell them that!”

“What the bloody hell is a Spiderman and will you come irritate my brother?” The redhead bloke said with a grin.

“You’re Fred, right?” Harry Stark asked. “You’ve met Peter before, we FaceTimed. Do you- do you not recognize me?”

“What’s FaceTime?” Scarred-Harry asked, stepping in front of Fred with a suspicious glare.

“You don’t know what FaceTime is?” Tyler asked. “What world do you live in?”

“Shut up!” Wednesday yelled, drawing all eyes to her. “Hands in the air if you have ever met any of the others aside from the ones you arrived with.”

Nobody raised their hands, then Harry Stark and Gwen did.

“Who have you met?” Their friend, Peter, asked them with a bemused frown.

Harry Stark glanced toward the pretty blonde’s and Gwen giggled quietly beside him.

“Er… Rosalie and Jasper Hale, right?” he asked them. They both nodded and Harry Stark shrugged. “I’ve seen a movie about you, your brother is bloody creepy.”

Jasper stared incredulously at Harry Stark and Peter snickered.

“You watched Twilight?” Peter asked. He groaned dramatically when Harry Stark nodded. “Bright Eyes, why? That movie sucks.”

“There’s a movie about us?!” Jasper Potter asked loudly. He stepped forward and Harry cringed back against the wall. He looked… well, a bit like Tyler, really. He moved like he could, and would, kill then all.

“It’s really about your brother and this whiny girl named Bella,” Harry Stark said. “My stepmum made me watch it with her. I like your whole emotion thing though.”

“Emotion thing?” Wednesday asked with a spark of interest in her eyes. “What’s that?”

Jasper Potter looked at Wednesday then his golden eyes flicked down to where Harry was crouched, trying to not be noticed.

“It’s this,” Jasper said quietly. Harry looked away from his eyes, toward the polished wooden floor, and suddenly he felt better- calmer. Less likely to pass out in the middle of a room full of crazy people.

“Excellent,” Wednesday said with a wide smile.

“I didn’t spike your coffee,” Theo hissed in Harry’s ear while he practically swallowed down his cigarette. “Harry, I would never.”

“I’ve never been so fucked up in my life,” Harry groaned. He looked around again at the different teenage versions of himself and blanched. “You decided you don’t like me sober and you filled our coffee with smack…”

“Harry, do you have any idea how expensive drugs are?” Theo narrowed his eyes, clearly unamused by Harry’s frantic accusations. “I could never afford them.”

Harry rubbed his face, wishing he could sober up from whatever trip he was on.

“This isn’t real, this isn’t real…”

“Oi, muggle, shut up,” the scrawny little Harry with the scar down his face snapped. “Quit saying this isn’t real. It’s not a fuckin dream.”

“Muggle?” Harry looked at Luna and Theo, but they both shrugged. “What’s a muggle?” he asked Scarred-Kid-Harry.

“You don’t have magic,” the other Harry wearing a leather jacket, Harry Stark, said. “That makes you a muggle.”

“What do you do?” Harry who was married to a vampire asked curiously. He had an easy smile and Harry felt more comfortable around him than any of the others.

“Besides shoot drugs,” Scarred-Harry drawled. He raised a snarky eyebrow when everyone looked at him. “What? He’s a fuckin junkie, probably burnt his magic away with drugs.”

“Harry’s a famous musician,” Luna said with a wide smile. Always Harry’s best supporter. “You’ve never heard of Liquid Luck? My husband and his brother are in it as well.”

“Ron married Luna and joined a band,” Fred, the younger image of Harry’s band manager, laughed loudly. “Merlin, that’s perfect.”

“How do you know he’s a junky?” Susan, the young woman with the golden arm, asked while she squinted at Harry in a way that made him feel incredibly uncomfortable.

“Seen one shelter full of junkies, seen them all,” Scarred-Harry scoffed.

Theo stepped forward immediately, apparently even a bad trip couldn’t shut down caseworker mode.

“Do you live in a shelter?” Theo asked him, softening his tone even while little Scarred-Harry blew a mouthful of smoke right in his face.

“I live in a fuckin mansion, don’t I?” Scarred-Harry drawled. “You smell like a social worker.”

Harry let out a startled laugh and eyed Scarred-Harry appreciatively. As someone who grew up in foster homes and shelters, he’d always told Theo that caseworkers had their own smell. Theo hadn’t believed him, but clearly Scarred-Harry understood.

“Nice,” Harry nodded at him. “If you weren’t a figment of my imagination, I’d hug you.”

“And if you weren’t the worst fuckin nightmare I’d ever had, I’d stab you for trying to hug me,” Scarred-Harry smirked. He held Harry’s pack of cigarettes back out to him. “Need another one?”

“God yes.”

Harry looked around at everyone with a rather amused smile on his face. He’d seen and done a lot of weird things, but this was definitely in the top of it.

Except nobody was pointing out the glaringly obvious and Harry sort of had a snowball fight to win and a husband to shag.

“Any ideas on how we leave?” he asked the others. “Because I can’t apparate.”

And he’d tried.

Seven times.

As soon as Harry spoke up though, a small pop filled the air and a table appeared in the center of the room. It wasn’t a big table, but there were six chairs, and it had a variety of food on it and a folded white card.

Rosalie was first to move to grab the card and she cleared her throat before reading it aloud.

“‘Merry Christmas Harry’s, Harry’s boyfriends, Harry’s fiancés, and Harry’s husbands—”

“Wait! Who all’s married?” Harry asked.

Scarred-Harry raised his hand as did his Fred—

Fred who was alive. Harry wished Ron were there. Even if it wasn’t his Fred, it was still Fred.

—and Jasper.

“Nice,” Harry grinned at Scarred-Harry. “Congrats, mate.”

Scarred-Harry wasn’t exactly friendly, he just sneered at Harry.

Rude.

“And who’s engaged?” Harry Stark asked everyone.

Nobody said anything and Harry’s nose crinkled. Everything that happened seemed to be magic so far, it was odd it got that wrong.

The man with American-Harry, Theo, sighed and turned toward American-Harry with a crooked grin.

“I was going to do this at three years at the diner, but this fever dream seems like a good practice point.” Theo knelt down in front of his Harry on one knee and everyone fell respectfully silent.

“Harry, watching you fall in love with yourself has only made me love you more. I know you don’t need a partner, you’re a god damned rockstar, but I hope you want one because I’ll never want anything as much as I want to spend my life with you.” Theo pulled a ring box from his pocket and held it up for American-Harry. “Will you marry me?”

“Much smoother than you, darlin,” Jasper whispered while American-Harry stared slack jawed at his boyfriend. Harry snuggled in Jasper’s side, content enough with his impromptu proposal.

If nothing else, at least Harry and Jasper were a perfect match. Harry was impulsive, Jasper was a planner. Harry impulsively proposed, Jasper planned his out for months. And in the end, they had the most perfect union that Harry imagined could exist.

“You’re crazy,” American-Harry whispered. “Theo I’m- I’m—”

“His fuckin brother,” Scarred-Harry murmured with a disgusted look on his face. His comment went unnoticed by everyone else though.

“Perfect,” Theo said earnestly. “A perfect mess and I’m so proud of you.”

Luna Weasley (Harry couldn’t wait to tell Ron that he married Luna Lovegood in a different world) clapped louder than anyone when American-Harry nodded and Theo slipped the ring on his finger and they snogged passionately.

“It’s kind of funny the oldest Harry here was one of the only unwed ones,” Harry Stark laughed. “I mean, ahem,” he coughed and grinned, “congrats. I hope we don’t have to go to your wedding.”

“You’re not invited because you’re not real,” American-Harry muttered. He broke apart from his Theo and smiled and suddenly his cocky attitude was gone and Harry saw a layer of insecurity beneath his shy grin and pink cheeks.

Honestly though these Harry’s were all rather rude, except for the Harry with his blue hair and goth looking cousin Wednesday.

Harry wanted a goth cousin. Jake was great, but Wednesday looked like she’d fit right in with Alice and Rose.

“I assume that you and you are dating your Harry’s?” Rose asked, pointing at the bloke with the shaggy hair with Harry Stark, Peter, and the boy with the blonde curls beside blue haired-Harry, Tyler.

“Harry and Xavier,” Tyler said, raising his chin challengingly.

“Uh…” Peter glanced at the blue haired-Harry and his apparently not-exclusive boyfriend. “Yeah it’s just me and Harry.”

“And Pietro,” Harry Stark said. He smirked when Peter rolled his eyes so Harry assumed he was joking.

“Are you hiding a second boyfriend?” Jasper asked with an easy smile.

“Yeah, Jared and I were waiting to tell you,” Harry laughed. “Jealous prat.”

“Can I continue or do you all want to stop and apparently discuss your shockingly similar sexualities?” Rose asked.

Oh.

Harry blinked and looked around the room. Wicked, it seemed like they were all gay. It was nice to know that Harry wasn’t the only bloke that preferred blokes. And not seeing Ginny with any of them made him nod decisively to himself, they had been all wrong together, clearly.

“Continue,” Wednesday all but ordered Rose with a bland tone. She had her hand resting on blue haired-Harry’s shoulder and Harry changed his mind about being cousins with her, she actually seemed a bit scary.

And he already had a Hermione Weasley and Ginny Weasley to deal with, he didn’t need more terrifying women around.

Susan had never been with a vampire before, never even considered it, but Merlin was she considering it then.

Vampire Snack-Harry’s blonde friend, Rosalie, was movie star gorgeous and Susan couldn’t help but let her imagination run away with her. It didn’t help matters that it seemed like all these Harry imposters had gorgeous women with them- the blonde vampire, Rosalie, the ‘investigative reporter’, Gwen, the goth girl with the pigtails, Wednesday, and damn if Luna didn’t grow up to be just as beautiful as the vampire.

She was a muggle, which was weird, but Susan didn’t discriminate.

Rosalie cleared her throat and tossed her long golden hair over her shoulder, standing like a goddess in the spotlight, and continued reading the card.

“‘I’d like to wish you all a Merry Christmas. I know you’ve all wondered at some point in your lives ‘why me?’ and you’ve all believed at one point or another that surely nobody has led a harder life than you.’”

Harry scoffed beside Susan and she smiled in wry agreement. If any of those Harry’s had it worse than hers, she’d lick another slug.

“‘You’re here to see how different your life may have been had you been in a different world. All I ask is that you talk, get to know each other, and once you’ve acknowledged that your life isn’t the only hard one, you’ll be free to go.’”

Susan shared an exasperated look. If their return home depended on Harry showing empathy to anyone else, they were going to be there forever.

Peter had been around the Avengers, he had been around criminals, he had been around wizards and enhanced individuals.

And none of them had him as tense and ready to defend as this group of people did.

Once Rosalie, a freaking vampire, finished with the mysterious card from the table, the others all started arguing and Peter broke out in a sweat.

“I’ve got to go outside,” he muttered to his Harry. “I’m sorry.”

Peter sprang up and darted around the others, pushing his way out to the empty and snow covered field the little cottage was in, desperate for air. It was cold out, but Peter hadn’t really felt temperatures much since he’d been bitten, so he was content standing ankle deep in the snow, breathing in and out slowly.

Harry always got him involved in the craziest shit, but he supposed it was usually a two way street.

With only thirty-six seconds of peace, the hair on the back of Peter’s neck prickled harshly as a warning just before the door opened.

“Hello,” the vampire, Jasper, who was married to Vampire Bait-Harry, smiled as he slid outside, but Peter ground his back teeth together hard. This guy was literally covered in scars- thousands of them. All crescent shaped, all with an icy cold scent that burnt Peter’s nose, and all that made him one of the most dangerous feeling individuals from inside the house.

Not as much as the Harry with the scar down the side of his face, but close.

“Hey,” Peter said tightly, subtly inching away from him. He couldn’t continue to focus on breathing, not while someone who set his senses off that badly was that close to him. Instead, he rolled his neck and clenched and unclenched his fists, ready to rush back inside and grab Harry and Gwen if Jasper even twitched too quickly.

Jasper leaned against the house, also unconcerned with the temperature if his calm expression and thin shirt were any indicators.

“You’re incredibly stressed,” Jasper said, as if it wasn’t freaking obvious. “Would you like me to help you calm down?”

“No,” Peter snapped. He raised his hand defensively and backed away a step. “Don’t mess with my moods. It’s not going to help.”

Jasper raised both of his pale hands in front of him, his face remaining calm. “Apologies, I merely wanted to help. It seems like we may be here for quite some time,” he added with a sarcastic smirk.

Peter sighed when the door opened and Fred and Tyler both stepped through - Tyler setting his spider senses off nearly as much as Jasper did - and the sound of five Harry’s shouting at one another assaulted his ears.

“You know what? That would be great,” Peter told Jasper. “Thanks, man.”

Jasper inclined his head politely and Peter sagged against the wall beside him when a wave of peace washed away his stress.

Tyler stuffed his hands in his jean pockets and scooted over to stand beside Peter when the cottage door opened and the man, Theo, snuck out of it.

“I actually don’t like yelling,” Theo said as way of explanation. He propped a foot against the wall and stood next to Fred with a frown. “I don’t think I like any of this.”

Fred, who hadn’t stopped grinning since they’d arrived, laughed at Theo and patted him on the back.

“Five Harry’s? I dunno, this is just like a dream I had once.”

Against his will, Tyler laughed and shook his head. “One Harry is enough for me, man. I don’t think I could handle five.”

The other four dudes out there all nodded absently, apparently their Harry’s were as much of a handful as Tyler’s.

“Wait,” Fred turned to Tyler with that same mischievous grin, “didn’t you say you’re dating some bloke named Xavier too?”

“I mean…” Tyler kicked a little pile of snow and wished Xavier was there with them. He was the calm one to Harry’s franticness and Tyler’s constant simmering anger. “Yeah, but… like it’s complicated,” he said. “Harry, Xavier, and I are just… we just work.”

“You’re… what?” Jasper asked, smiling slowly. “In a little love triangle?”

“No,” Tyler grinned, relieved that they’d never resorted to something so ridiculous. “We just like all hang out together, you know?”

It was easy. It worked. Tyler loved Harry, he would die for Xavier.

For them, it made sense.

“No,” the other four said before they all burst into laughter and the tension between them slipped away.

Theo accepted his break from reality with all the good grace that a guy could.

Teleportation? Sure.

Propose to his boyfriend in front of a bunch of his younger counterparts? Why not.

Oh, they’re all magic and vampires and psychics and not at all human? Cool.

But somehow standing outside with four guys of varying ages, swapping stories about their Harry’s was just the return to reality Theo needed. It was nice to know that his Harry wasn’t as much of a problem as some of theirs…

“Do your Harry’s have an animagus form?” Fred asked the others. He laughed when they all shook their heads or looked completely lost. “My Harry’s a polar bear. It’s bloody adorable, it is.”

“Polar bears are one of the deadliest animals in the world…” Theo said slowly.

Fred smiled, his face so wistful and loving it was almost gross to see. “Yeah, that’s my Harry.”

Jasper laughed, kind of a creepy huffing sound that reminded Theo that he was a vampire, and shook his head.

“My Harry’s just reckless, he’s totaled enough cars that I can no longer insure him under his own name.”

“Oh, my Harry’s plenty reckless too,” Peter grinned boyishly. “You should see him on his broom, flying beside me when I’m swinging webs or his dad‘s flying. It’s like he’s never even heard of gravity.”

“My Harry hangs out with Wednesday which is a risk in itself,” Tyler said with a dry laugh.

Theo shrugged when the others all looked at him. “My Harry’s the best,” he said simply, his eyes soft when he recalled Harry’s face just minutes ago when he agreed to be with Theo until the end of time. “I just keep him away from drugs, drinks, and Draco’s and it’s all piano serenades and impulsive vacations.”

“Yours plays piano too?” Tyler asked, perking right up in interest. “My Harry’s amazing on the piano. You’ve never seen anything so beautiful in your life.”

Theo hummed in acknowledgment, but it’s not like he was going to agree with him. He was a twenty-six year old man standing outside swapping stories with supernatural teenagers in a fever dream, no need to imagine a teenage boy being ‘beautiful’ to add to his list of insanity.

It had been hell, being around all the people who were so scared, stressed, and tense, but with time, and gratuitous use of his gift, it was becoming more tolerable.

Certainly leagues more amusing, as well.

“Did all of your Harry’s fight in a war?” Jasper asked, politely ignoring the human man whose blood couldn’t even be scented over the thick magic in the air.

And the animal scents radiating from Tyler and Peter in heady waves.

“Mine’s winning a war as we speak,” Fred said proudly. It was odd meeting the boy whose death Harry was wracked with guilt over, but perhaps this could bring him a measure of peace.

“Uh… mine won the war on drugs,” Theo said with a heavy layer of amusement.

Tyler and Peter looked at one another with blatant confusion and shrugged in tangent.

“Does like Ultron count?” Peter asked.

“Since we don’t know what that means, sure,” Fred laughed merrily. “Alright, gents, who asked who out in your relationships?”

“I asked Harry on like two dates before he realized I was interested in him, plus I kissed him and caused a meltdown,” Peter grinned. “He didn’t know he was gay, I guess.”

Jasper laughed, as did the others.

“I asked Harry on a date and he didn’t know it was a date,” Tyler said. “And poor Xavier had to just kiss him to get his attention.”

“I- I might have stalked Harry,” Theo said with a sheepish grin and light blush. “He was avoiding me, it was a whole thing.”

“Romantic,” Fred sighed. He wiped away a faux tear and then sighed. “Harry once paid me to not take him on a date, it’s a bloody miracle he ever married me.”

Jasper laughed with the others, quite relieved to know that his Harry was hardly the only oblivious one to romantic pursuits. How long had he been blatantly showing his interest before Harry finally caught on?

“How about you, Jasper?” Tyler asked politely. “How’d you and your Harry get together?”

Jasper raised a shoulder, they had gotten together relatively simply. Their entire relationship thus far had been nothing but simplicity—

Between them, anyway.

“I told him if he beat my brother Edward in a fight that we would go steal a fire truck for our first date,” Jasper told them all, recalling perfectly how their first date happened. “He lost and we went out anyway.”

“My Harry’s never lost a fight,” Fred bragged.

“Must have lost at least one or he wouldn’t have that scar down his face,” Peter pointed out.

Fred’s pride shifted into acute sadness.

“It’s hard to win fights when your uncle has about two hundred pounds on you,” he said with an angry twist to his lips.

Everyone else immediately fell silent and thoughtful.

“Your Harry’s all have Uncle Vernon’s as well then?” Jasper asked.

“And closets under the stairs?” Theo asked.

The five of them all nodded and fell quiet for a few moments. Then, abruptly, Fred snickered.

“Timmy- Voldemort to you blokes -killed Vernon and Petunia Dursley,” he said happily. “He mailed Harry the hearts and everything.”

Jasper, who liked to consider himself a pacifist after a millennia of war, smiled at Fred and raised his chin.

“A delightful end, I’ll mention it to Rosalie and see if we can’t mimic that in our world.”

“Ditto,” Tyler and Peter said.

“Look just tell me about whatever shit life you think you’ve got so I can get home. It’s Rosie’s first Christmas and I’m not going to fuckin miss it,” Harry glared darkly at the others, dating them to argue against it.

“If you’re so chatty, why don’t you start?” Harry Stark snapped.

The girls had all taken seats at the table and were chatting amicably while Fred and the other blokes slipped outside. And Harry was losing his fucking mind arguing with these- these- bloody impossible imposters.

There was only one Harry Potter, and it was him.

“I’ve got a great fuckin life,” Harry bragged. Sure, he had to die soon, but his life was brill.

Harry waved his hand, beginning to show off with magic. He created a lightning bolt near the ceiling that made blue haired-Harry yelp and Susan and Gwen to clap appreciatively. Then he pointed at the muggle-Harry and changed his jeans to flash different colors before he finished off by levitating all the food from the table in front of the girls, spinning it around, and landing it back neatly.

“I’ve got magic, a goddaughter, a whole gang,” Harry told them. “I’ve got a Sev and—”

“Wait,” vampire snack-Harry had been sitting on the floor with his legs crossed and an easy grin on his lips. He sat forward then and squinted at Harry. “What’s a Sev?”

“Severus Snape, Potions Professor and Harry’s legal guardian,” Susan answered with a smirk. “He gave Harry a house.”

He gave Harry a hell of a lot more than just a house that no longer existed, but, sure. Vampire snack-Harry looked shocked, so did Harry Stark.

“You live with Snape?!” Harry Stark yelped, his face draining of all color.

Harry flicked his knife from its wrist holster to his hand and began twirling it while he stared the two other Harry’s down coldly.

“I do, and if you’ve got a problem with it you’re welcome to fight me.” Harry smiled sharply, “I don’t lose much, do I?”

Harry never lost. Not to anyone less than Timmy, and Timmy wasn’t there.

Muggle-Harry, who wasn’t as disgusting as most muggles, snorted derisively.

“I know a guy named Severus Snape, but he’s an addict and my sponsor.”

“Oh I could totally see that,” Susan laughed gaily. “Our Sev downs pain relievers like crazy.”

“Severus is a lovely man,” Luna said, sounding just as bright and sweet as Harry’s Lue was. “I think he’s quite lonely though.”

Susan reached across the table and patted Luna’s hand with an impish smile. “Find him a Tonks and thank me later.”

“Wait! Tonks is with Remus?” Harry Stark said, like an idiot. As if there was any universe where Tonks didn’t chase after Sev like Fred used to Harry. “Sirius said so, he was right pissy about it.”

“Sirius?” Muggle-Harry straightened up and looked toward Harry Stark with what seemed like an excited smile. “Sirius Black? He was my foster dad for a while, he taught me piano.”

“He’s my godfather,” blue haired-Harry said softly. Harry didn’t know what to think about him, the kid was fucking weird. “He taught me piano too.”

“You guys still have Sirius?” Vampire snack-Harry asked, catching Harry’s complete attention immediately.

“What do you mean ‘still have Sirius’?” Harry asked him slowly. “Did you fucking let Sirius die?!”

It seemed like a really bad time to mention that not only did Harry let Sirius die, but he led him to his death. He lost Snape and Fred too, both people that were apparently incredibly important to Scarred-Harry.

“Er… Bellatrix killed him,” Harry prevaricated. The other Harry’s all flinched, apparently Sirius was rather important to them all. American-Harry sighed and stuffed his hands in his pockets, probably looking for another cigarette.

“Sirius died when I was fifteen,” he told them all, his face weary and lost for a moment. “Heart attack. That’s when I said fuck it to the foster system and struck out on my own.”

“I’ve always been on my own,” Scarred-Harry said with what seemed like quite a bit of misplaced pride. “I lived on the streets for three years before I started Hogwarts.”

“Foster care for four years then I was on my own for three before I…” American-Harry trailed off and his Luna gave him a kind smile until he cleared his throat. “Anyway until I got some money coming in and found a place to live.”

Harry felt guilty for a moment. He’d never been homeless in his entire life.

Camping trip from hell aside.

“I don’t technically have a home,” the quiet little blue haired-Harry said mournfully, causing Harry’s heart to twinge for the kid.

“Don’t be absurd, Harry,” Wednesday drawled from where she sat at the table off to the side with the other girls. “Mother cleared the dust from your bedroom. She’s even considering painting it.”

“Black?” Blue haired-Harry asked with a small smile.

“Blue,” Wednesday told him. She sighed heavily, rather dramatically apparently. “I told Mother about your penchant for bright colors.”

Blue haired-Harry broke out in a wide smile that made Harry feel better for the kid.

“Where’d you grow up?” Scarred-Harry asked the others.

“The Dursleys,” Harry admitted. He was actually rather jealous of the ones who didn’t grow up with the Dursleys. Not that he thought the streets were better, but maybe just as equally awful.

Harry Stark nodded at Harry. “Dursleys until I was nearly fifteen, then Sirius told me about my dad and I moved to New York.”

Everyone turned to blue haired-Harry who was sitting beside Harry and looked like he was attempting to curl himself into an invisible ball.

“St Brutus’,” he mumbled. “Then lockup, then Nevermore…”

“Lockup? Like jail?” Harry asked him, cringing at the idea of ever going to the school for criminally insane boys that his relatives used to threaten him with. Last he knew, from Aunt Marge just before he blew her up, they used a cane on the students.

Blue Haired-Harry nodded, his eyes trained firmly on the floor.

“Brill,” Scarred-Harry drawled. He moved closer to the group and leaned against the wall beside American-Harry. He looked at blue haired-Harry with blatant interest. “What for?”

Blue haired-Harry didn’t seem inclined to answer, so Wednesday did it for him.

“Harry was convicted of murder,” she said, sounding rather pleased really. “He’s talented in the art of death.”

Scarred-Harry definitely looked too interested at that.

“Really?” he asked, eyeing blue haired-Harry with a new light. “What’s your count?”

“Count?” Blue haired-Harry turned to look at scarred-Harry before dropping his face back to the floor. “What count?”

“How many people have you killed?”

“Oh.” Blue haired-Harry shrugged. “Er… five.”

“That’s a good start,” Scareed-Harry smirked. “Sue, what’s mine?”

“Twenty-nine,” Susan answered promptly.

Harry’s eyes bugged out of his face and they all gawked at Scarred-Harry.

In what world did Harry kill twenty-nine people?

“Dumbledore was my favorite though,” Susan sighed.

“You killed Dumbledore?!” Harry and Harry Stark both screamed.

“Good,” Harry mumbled.

He didn’t mean for everyone to hear him, but Harry Stark and the Vampire-Harry both gave him shocked looks.

“Dumbledore‘s an arse,” the serial killing mass murderer Harry sneered. “Sue and I dropped him in a lake full of inferi.”

Vampire-Harry let out a shocked laugh that he tried to hide behind a cough. “Sorry, but the one in a cave? With the locket?”

“That’s the one,” the red headed girl named Susan laughed.

“Damn,” Vampire-Harry swore. “So how are you going to get his wand?”

Harry listened intently, curious to learn more about wands. He’d wanted one ever since Sirius showed him his, but if he could do magic without it, like Scarred-Harry, then it seemed all the same.

“He fucked me over,” Scarred-Harry scowled, exchanging a dark look with Susan. “He surrendered it, I didn’t get the wand.”

“Oh.” Vampire-Harry blinked at him behind the glasses that only two of them wore. Scarred-Harry, Harry Stark, and the Harry with the same American accent as Tyler didn’t wear glasses, which seemed unfair.

“So how’d you survive getting the horcrux removed?”

Harry glanced toward Wednesday, who had a single brow lifted in interest as she looked from Vampire-Harry to Scarred-Harry.

“How did you survive it?” Scarred-Harry demanded, sounding less crude than he had thus far.

Vampire-Harry grimaced and tapped his leg irritably. “Master of Death, mate, I won bloody immortality for my efforts in the war.”

“You can never die?” Wednesday asked him with a light in her eyes.

“Nope.”

Harry jolted backwards, cracking his head against the wall, when Scarred-Harry lunged forward with his knife out. The vampire woman, Rosalie, grabbed him by the waist just before he stuck the blade of the knife in Vampire-Harry’s neck and threw him backward. Then Susan was on her feet, a flame pouring from the end of her wand aimed right at Rosalie.

“Woah, what the hell?” Harry Stark yelled. He pulled a stick from his pocket, probably a wand, and seemed torn on who to aim it at.

Harry would aim it at the crazy kid with a knife, but the fire girl was just as bad.

“He said he can’t die, I wanted to see it,” Scarred-Harry said. He flipped the knife in his hand and tried to drive it through Rosalie’s hand and he howled when the blade snapped off and she released him with a snarl.

“You broke my bloody knife!” Scarred-Harry yelled at her.

“You tried to stab me, forgive me for not caring,” Rosalie drawled.

Vampire-Harry stepped over and waved his wand at Scarred-Harry’s knife and had it repaired instantly.

“No harm, no foul,” he said kindly. Scarred-Harry didn’t look like he agreed, but American-Harry looked rather impressed.

“So… horcrux removal, how did you lot do it?” Vampire-Harry asked the others. Harry shrugged, rather lost on what a horcrux was. He was glad that Harry Stark asked though so he didn’t have to.

“What’s a horcrux?” Harry Stark asked them when he slowly pocketed his wand and he and vampire-Harry sat back down on the floor. Scarred-Harry went to stand beside American-Harry and they made an odd image.

In their black leather jackets and their green eyes with the dark shadows in them, they could be brothers. They even had their hair styled similarly, much neater than Harry’s, Harry Stark’s, or Vampire-Harry’s.

Not wearing glasses was a neat trick; maybe Harry would look into contacts during the summer.

“Er… a bit of Voldemort’s soul?” Vampire-Harry said slowly, looking around at them all. “Bloody hell, you guys knew, right?”

“Yes,” Harry and Scarred-Harry said. Harry was relieved that he’d had his removed by Uncle Fester, he really didn’t want a bit of someone else’s soul inside of him.

“IT’S A WHAT?!” Harry Stark yelled.

He didn’t have Voldemort’s soul in his head, he didn’t.

He didn’t.

Someone would have told him.

Harry lifted his hand to touch his forehead tentatively, not liking the pitying look he got from Vampire-Harry one bit.

“Did Timmy attack your parents and you killed him with some magical love bullshit?” Scarred-Harry asked. He laughed rudely when Harry nodded. “Then you’ve got it. Congrats. You’ll have to die for him to die.”

Gwen jumped up with a sob and ran to Harry, throwing her arms around him and holding him while Harry stared at the others gobsmacked.

Harry couldn’t die. Not now.

Not when he had his dad and Sirius, Pepper and Peter.

“No you don’t,” blue haired-Harry said quietly from his place on the floor. “I only died for…”

“Six minutes and two seconds,” Wednesday supplied helpfully.

“That’s six minutes too long,” Gwen groaned in Harry’s neck. Harry was relieved Peter was outside, he’d seen him cry enough after his uncle’s funeral, no need to add Harry’s impending death to add.

“Or you become the master of death and survive that way,” vampire-Harry chimed in sadly. “I’m going to outlive my godson.”

Scarred-Harry actually shuddered and shared a disgusted look with Susan.

“I’ll never go to Rosie’s funeral,” he said firmly. “Fuck that.”

“Fuck that,” Susan echoed solemnly.

“So you’re just going to let Voldemort live?” Vampire-Harry asked Scarred-Harry. “He’ll kill all your friends. Hermione, Ron…”

Harry knew then and there that he would rather die than let Hermione or Ron be killed. He might not be a hero, he wasn’t an Avenger like his dad, but if Tony Stark could fly into a wormhole to save the lives of strangers, then Harry Stark would die to save Hermione.

“Mione’s dead,” Scarred-Harry said flatly. “Died having Rosie, didn’t she?”

Harry, Vampire-Harry, and American-Harry were all wearing the exact same looks of shock and misery on their faces.

“Wait!” Vampire-Harry suddenly grinned. “Hermione died in your world having a baby? You’re mad. Her and Ron just got married last year and I think she’s still a virgin.”

American-Harry laughed and lit another cigarette before holding the pack out to Scarred-Harry.

“Mione’s a fucking excellent guitarist,” American-Harry said, his voice muffled slightly by the cigarette in his mouth. “She just proposed last summer to her girlfriend Cho.”

“We’re soo happy for you,” Susan snapped. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about my dead best friend, thanks.”

“We’ve got to talk about something,” American-Harry said with a careless shrug. “Either we acknowledge each others fucked up lives or we spend Christmas in this shack together.”

When none of the teens looked likely to share, Harry sighed and figured it was time to take charge. He was the oldest, by at least six years it looked like, and what was this if not a group therapy session?

“We need more chairs,” he said. The instant the words left his mouth, five additional chairs, another round table, and a couple ashtrays popped up. Harry laughed at the ashtray and nudged the Harry with the facial scar lightly with his elbow.

“I guess the magic house doesn’t like ashes on the floor,” he smirked. “Come on, boys, time for a meeting.”

“We’ll go outside and give you some privacy,” Luna offered kindly. She smoothed her hand over the top of Harry’s hair and then skipped outside with the other girls.

The little emo girl stopped in the doorway and sent a death filled glare at the Harry’s.

“If my Harry is in less than perfect condition when I return, I will release Tyler on you all,” she warned them, as if anyone was scared of a teenage boy.

Susan laughed loudly and mockingly. “I don’t need to threaten anyone, Harry will kill them himself.”

“Not me,” Vampire-Harry said brightly. He plopped down at the table and reached over to snag a bowl of popcorn from the girls’ abandoned table. “You can rip my head off and I just get a bloody awful scar, see?” He lowered the collar of the thick knitted sweater he wore and Harry grimaced at the jagged scar that looked like it went clear around his neck.

“Brill,” scarred-Harry breathed, looking really impressed. “Damn, I wish that wand worked for me.”

Harry sat down beside Vampire-Harry and scarred-Harry sat beside him. Then blue haired-Harry slowly moved to sit beside him and Harry Stark took the last seat.

Harry snatched the hat on his head and turned it around backwards. He leaned back in his seat and no more wished for a cup of coffee before one appeared in front of him.

Harry lifted the mug to the boys and grinned wryly.

“Hi, my name’s Harry Potter and I’m addicted to blow, alcohol, pills, and reckless living.”

Despite Harry’s doubt that any of them had ever been to a meeting before, they were fast learners.

“Hi, Harry.”

Rosalie stopped when they stepped outside and saw the gentlemen standing in a circle in the snow, in a heated discussion, with arms flailing and voices raised.

“What on earth are you boys arguing over?” she asked, raising a brow at her usually passive brother.

The five of them stopped, all of them exchanging looks, before Peter laughed and threw his hands up.

“Which of our Harry’s is the best,” Peter called to them. “Mine’s obviously the best looking.”

“Yours doesn’t even look right,” Fred told him with an unfriendly shove and roll of his blue eyes. “Mines brilliant, you don’t even know.”

“Oh, God, I cannot listen to them be so disgusting,” Susan sighed. She linked her cold arm in Rosalie’s with a small smirk. “Come on, let’s go talk over here, Rosalie.”

Rosalie gave the human witch girl an amused look as she led them around to the side of the house. Susan didn’t seem impressed when the other three girls followed.

“Oh, group chat, great,” Susan sighed. She stopped on the opposite side of the house from the boys and leaned against it heavily. “I’m sorry, ladies, I’m afraid we’ll be here for quite some time. My Harry simply doesn’t display empathy, he won’t give a damn about your Harrys lives.”

“Truly?” Rosalie asked the feisty girl. “My Harry is rather a bleeding heart. He’s even befriended an innocent little mouse.”

“My Harry befriended two idiotic teenage boys,” Wednesday said with a roll of her eyes.

Gwen buffed her nails on her shirt and shrugged. “My Harry hates people, but he’s super sweet. I adore him, as does nearly every person he meets.”

“My Harry inspires fear, which is better than friendship,” Susan bragged. “Of course, he’s also an emotionally stunted moron, so… cheers.”

Rosalie considered her own Harry, her favorite sibling.

“Cheers to emotional stunted Harry Potters,” she said. Her lips twitched in absolute amusement when Susan laid on her side with a coy smile on her lips.

“I’m very happily married,” Rosalie told her. She patted the girl’s arm politely before she released her. “And I would destroy you.”

Susan sighed and looked up at Rosalie with lusty eyes. “I’d let you.”

As Gwen’s recorder had melted in her pocket the instant she apparated to their remote cabin location, she was damned to simply force herself to memorize every word the other girls uttered.

Interviewing the Avengers had put her on a short list for an internship at the New York Times after graduation, an interview with a witch and vampire would put her name on billboards.

“How did you all meet your Harry’s?” she asked, attempting to get the ball rolling once more. “I met mine when Peter brought him to a party at my house, poor boy was attacked by girls and then played his first drinking game.”

“Oh, I met Harry when he was eleven,” Susan said, her teal eyes lighting up joyfully. “He was breaking the law in the library and I yelled at him for it.”

“I met mine through my husband,” Luna, the normal human woman said with a smile. “I didn’t care for him at first, then I saw his broken spirit and how could I help but adore him after that?”

“You can sense spirits?” Wednesday asked. “I had a great-aunt who could do that.”

“Harry’s pain was obvious,” Luna told them all. “He lost his boyfriend a year later, it was tragic. I thought we’d lose him after that.”

“That’s horrible,” Gwen sighed. “What happened to his boyfriend? Officially?” she pushed. A dead lover of a famous rockstar was just as good dirt as any.

“Draco overdosed on a bad batch of drugs,” Luna told them all. Rosalie made a disgusted sound and even Gwen scrunched her nose up.

“We were all very pleased when Harry met Theo,” she continued. “He’s a lovely influence.”

“I met my Harry at Nevermore, a school for outcasts,” Wednesday explained when everyone looked confused. “I’m unsure why you and your brother never attended, we have a dozen vampire students,” she told Rosalie.

“A school for supernaturals?” Gwen perked up. “And where did you say it was located?”

Wednesday glared at Gwen with hooded and dark eyes. “I didn’t.”

Point taken, Gwen would simply ask Tyler or blue haired-Harry.

Wednesday despised ‘gossiping with girls’, but even she couldn’t deny the burning curiosity to learn more about the other worlds that her cousin could have been in.

“None of your Harry’s have been in lockup?” she asked them. When none but Susan responded in any way, Wednesday focused on her. “What for?”

“Murder, but he was innocent,” Susan said quickly.

Wednesday raised a skeptical brow. “I thought he killed twenty-nine people?”

Susan smiled sharply, clearly a kindred spirit, and flipped her long red hair off her shoulder. “He did, but not that one.”

“So he went to jail?” Gwen asked. “How did you prove his innocence?”

“I interrogated every student until we found the culprit then Tonks and Johnny went and released Harry from Azkaban,” Susan told them. “Harry was… well… he’s never really been the same, but he’s still brilliant.”

Wednesday doubted that he was as skilled or important as her cousin, but Susan could live in her delusions.

“And who is Johnny?” Luna asked.

Susan laughed then and Wednesday decided that if she had been sent to Nevermore, and Enid weren’t annoyingly persistent, that perhaps Susan would have been an excellent candidate to experience ‘romance’ with. She was bloodthirsty, could control fire, and held no compunction with murder.

All important traits to have.

“Johnny’s my ex fuck buddy,” she said with a smirk. “I killed him when he betrayed Harry to Timmy.”

“I adore you,” Wednesday told Susan impulsively.

Susan looked surprised, but not unhappy. She eyed Wednesday from top to bottom before smirking.

“If you ever make it to London, look up Susan Bones,” she told her. “I don’t know if I exist in your world, but I think we could be quite good friends.”

Wednesday would absolutely do that.

“Look, lads, I’m telling you- my Harry could kill me and chooses not to every single day,” Fred told the other Harry-lovers. “If that’s not true love, I dunno what is.”

“You’re out of your mind,” Jasper laughed. He was a good bloke, clearly crazy about his Harry. “My Harry is one of the kindest souls on earth.”

“You’re earth, maybe,” Fred said playfully. “But my Harry’s the best. He would die for me or kill for me.”

“My Harry saved me from Laurel Gates,” Tyler told them all. “He’d do anything for me and I’d do anything for him. We’re more than boyfriends, we’re best friends.”

“I’m my Harry’s best friend,” Fred said confidently. “Or, I’m at least tied with Susan, which means something, trust me.”

“Would you die for him?” Jasper challenged Fred. “Would you lay down your life and leave behind your family for your Harry?”

Fred rolled his eyes. There wasn’t anything Fred wouldn’t do for Harry. He would die for him, he would kill for him, he would rip his own heart from his chest for Harry.

Harry was the best thing in Fred’s world and he considered his vows to be law.

“Mate, I’d kill you all then myself if it would make Harry smile,” Fred told them truthfully. He patted Jasper consolingly on the shoulder. “Good luck next time, mate. Tyler doesn’t seem real dedicated, try and see if you can out simp him.”

“Hey! We’re still new!” Tyler defended himself. He crossed his arms and raised his chin defiantly. “But I have… like really strong feelings for him. If it’s not love yet, it will be soon.”

Fred snorted. “Really strong feelings, eh? Yeah, mate, you and your second boyfriend have really earned your simp cards.”

“Don’t look at me,” Theo drawled, looking hysterical with the neck tattoos and posh looking muggle suit. “I wouldn’t commit murder under any circumstances, but I love my Harry.”

“I would kill someone for Harry,” Peter said with a careless shrug. “Tony and his annoying friends are the heroes, I’m a part of the Anti-Avengers.”

“What’s that?” Jasper asked with his head tilted slightly. “A group of villains?”

Peter hummed and shifted from side to side. “Mm, more of antiheroes. Harry started it.”

Obviously.

All Harry’s were just excellent antiheroes, it seemed to be universal law.

“You’re an honorary member of the club,” Fred told him seriously. “But I’m the bloody prime minister.”

Frankly, Harry didn’t want to share about his life, but he didn’t mind listening to the others do it. Or, he didn’t, until American-Harry started talking about addiction and it made his stomach clench at the familiar words.

“I used to drink and take pills for fun, just to relax,” American-Harry told them all quietly, his eyes on the coffee mug he held. “My uncle used to pound on me, and some of the foster homes were worse than him. Then I met Draco, and we spiraled down together. I’d have a shitty day, I’d get drunk. I’d see an old foster parent or caseworker, I’d get high. He’d hit me, I’d hit him back, when I got bailed out, I’d take some blow. If I even saw someone else drinking, I’d itch until I had a drink too.”

He took a sip of his coffee and shrugged broad shoulders. “Pretty soon Draco and I were getting fucked up all the time. It was the only way I could cope. I’ve relapsed more times than I can count, but if this isn’t a drug induced bad trip, then I’ve been sober for two years, seven months, eleven days, and six and a half hours.”

“Cheers,” Harry said quietly. He hesitated about speaking up, but he figured anything to get home sooner. He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably under four pairs of eyes identical to his. “I, er… I used to drink, probably more than I should. I’d think about the war, all the people I lost because I didn’t do enough—”

Sirius. Dumbledore. Hedwig. Dobby. Fred. Tonks. Remus. Snape.

“—and I’d just…” Harry swallowed and felt more vulnerable than he enjoyed. “I’d just drink until I didn’t think of them anymore.”

American-Harry gave Harry a commiserating look. “What got you sober?”

“Jasper,” Harry said bluntly. Jasper was the one who brought Harry back to life, showed him how to live it. “And Teddy.”

Without them, Harry would be nothing but a useless drunk, screaming and fighting ghosts for the rest of his immortal life.

“How long’s it been since you’ve drank?”

Harry considered it, but he forgot about his husband and his supernatural hearing.

“Fifty-three days, two hours, forty-seven minutes, and twenty seconds,” Jasper called, his voice carrying through the light wooden walls.

Harry licked his lips and folded his hands on his lap, looking up at the ceiling. “Apparently that long.”

American-Harry dug in his pocket until he found a small red plastic chip that he slid across the table to Harry. When Harry looked down at it, then looked at American-Harry, he was caught in a heavy and solemn gaze.

“That’s a thirty day sobriety chip,” American-Harry said softly, causing Harry to feel as if it were just the two of them in the room. “When you hit ninety days, go find a meeting and get your next chip.”

American-Harry pulled out his keychain while Harry fingered the red chip with emotion swelling in his chest and clogging his throat. American-Harry held up a bronze chip attached to his keychain beside a black tag.

“Over one year sober of booze, over two from drugs,” he said proudly. “I keep them to remind myself what I’m never going back to.”

Harry nodded and ducked his head, hiding the tears that prickled his eyes. It was… it was sort of incredible, to be given something so precious. Harry never considered himself to have a problem with alcohol, but… but everyone else did.

And they said Harry had a terrible sense of self-preservation, so maybe he shouldn’t follow his own guidance.

“You don’t drink at all?” Scarred-Harry abruptly asked, breaking the grim and heavy silence. Scarred-Harry scoffed at American-Harry. “Just when I thought you weren’t bad for a fuckin muggle.”

American-Harry wasn’t offended, he just looked at Scarred-Harry with a sense of pity.

“You’ll get it one day, kid.”

Scarred-Harry curled his upper lip in a sneer and smoothed his thumb across the grain of the table.

“Doubt it,” he said, keeping his voice level despite the tiny tremor Harry could hear in it. “I’m dying soon, aren’t I?”

It wasn’t that Harry wanted to ‘share his feelings’, but fuck if he didn’t want to get home to Rosie and Sev before his last Christmas started without him.

It was kind of fucked up that muggle-Harry had a shit childhood, but so did Harry, and he wasn’t whining.

Or, he wasn’t, but if whining got him back to Invisibility Way then he’d give it a shot.

“Sev’s going to kill me once we find the final horcrux—”

“Which one?”

Harry looked over at Vampire Snack-Harry. “What?”

Vampire Snack-Harry smiled slightly. “Which horcrux haven’t you found?”

“A tiara.”

“Room of Requirement.”

Harry blinked. “You’re joking.”

“Nope.” Vampire Snack-Harry shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. “I swear. I found it during the last battle.”

Harry’s breath hitched, so he didn’t respond, he just nodded at him and soothed himself with the pattern of the table before continuing—

Finding the last bit of Timmy’s soul meant dying sooner. And Harry couldn’t drag it out while babies were being murdered every bloody day.

“Ta,” Harry said after he was confident his face and tone wouldn’t betray him. “So I had a fucked up eleven years, then I had a brill few years, now I’ve got to die. It’s all done.”

Harry’s gang- gone.

Harry’s Fred- gone.

Harry’s goddaughter- gone.

Harry’s Sev- gone.

All his work, all his fucking power, everything he worked for- gone.

“You can’t find any solutions?” Harry Stark asked softly. “Nothing?”

Harry shook his head and glared at the table. “Just fuckin dying. Leaving behind my goddaughter, my husband, and the first person who ever cared about me for no reason.”

And it was going to destroy them all. Harry was glad that he didn’t have to attend his own funeral.

He’d attended too many funerals already.

“Nobody ever cared about you before you met Snape?” Vampire Snack-Harry asked. “Snape was really the first one?”

Harry curled a lip at him, sick of the slander against Sev.

“I’m sure there was a couple repeat John’s who said ‘I love your body’, but I don’t fuckin count them, do I?” Harry snapped, furious. How dare they act like Sev wasn’t the most brilliant, bravest, kindest person Harry knew? He bought him Sevvie, he gave him a house- no, not just a house.

Sev gave Harry a home.

Muggle-Harry closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with his thumbs. “How old were you when you left the Dursleys?”

“Eight.”

Muggle-Harry pulled his pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and handed them to Harry.

“Here, kid, you need these more than I do.”

It wasn’t an accomplishment, winning the ‘whose life is shittier’ contest, but Harry still rather liked winning. He lit a cigarette and nodded at the muggle.

“Ta, mate. For a muggle, you’re not terrible.”

Even if he didn’t drink, which was fucking mad.

Harry pulled his phone from his pocket beneath the table and pulled up his texts, typing out a group text to his dad, Sirius, and Pepper.

Love you.

Harry wasn’t a sentimental bloke, but damn did these other Harry’s have problems.

Message Not Delivered.

Harry sighed and slid his phone back in his pocket. He wasn’t likely to tell them face to face, but he’d settle for resending the text once he was out of whatever magical wormhole he’d fallen in.

“My life isn’t bad,” Harry told the others with a shrug. “Sure, it was a bit dicey with the surprise adoption and Sirius shipping me off, but… er… Pepper says I’ve got attachment issues and ‘a whole head full of ‘well earned mental illness’ so… so I just need to work on that.”

Attachment insecurity, depression, and ADHD- Pepper swore Harry inherited it all from Tony, but it didn’t make Harry feel better about it.

Sure, it was nice to have similarities to his real, living, breathing, dad who loved Harry and cared about him (which was better than love, really), but Harry sort of wished it was just their looks and not the other stuff.

“Attachment issues and mental illness?” Vampire-Harry grinned and reached across the table with a fist held out. “Dude, same.”

Harry laughed, startled to hear a fellow Harry say ‘dude’ and bumped fists with Vampire-Harry.

“What kind of mental illness?” Blue Hair-Harry asked softly, finally speaking up. He was quiet, for a Harry. Maybe he got quiet when he was nervous, instead of snarky as Harry tended to do.

“Circular madness?” Scarred-Harry asked.

“Bipolar disorder?” American-Harry asked.

Scarred-Harry looked at American-Harry and his cold eyes gained a spark of warmth.

“You’re bipolar?” he asked. “Brill, mate. The flying though, right?”

Whatever secret code they had, American-Harry clearly understood.

“The flying is unreal,” American-Harry sighed wistfully. “But the lows? Fuck. It’s worth it to take the pills, man.”

“I thought you didn’t take drugs?” Harry asked him, mildly disappointed to learn that he wasn’t really sober. Being a rockstar seemed wicked cool, being hooked on drugs- like the people who slept on the sidewalks downtown -didn’t seem so cool.

“I don’t,” American-Harry denied quickly. “I take medication for my mood disorder, it’s different.”

Harry debated the issue while he tapped his foot beneath the table. He’d read about bipolar in his psych class at Midtown, he didn’t think he had it.

“Any of you lot have depression or ADHD?” Harry asked hopefully. He deflated when they said no, but then Vampire-Harry cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Suppose I’ve got depression,” he said. “It’s not like I drank and cut my wrists open for fun.”

Harry blanched, as did the others.

Scarred-Harry cringed completely and carefully slid his hands from the table to his lap. “Did your magic quit listening to you?” he asked in a flat tone.

Vampire-Harry gave him a long and scrutinizing look. “No,” he said evenly. “Did yours?”

“Piss off,” Scarred-Harry muttered.

Harry figured if ever there was a time for painful and awkward admissions, it was then.

“My magic was fine after I jumped off a roof,” he said, his face burning with shame when the others all turned to him. Harry shrugged his shoulders up by his ears uncomfortably. “All of our lives are shitty, don’t act surprised.”

“Mine keeps getting better,” blue haired-Harry said. He glanced up when the others looked at him in disbelief. The kid was small, quiet, meek, withdrawn- there was no way he was living some brilliant life.

Harry grit his teeth when the others looked at him in disbelief. He could feel their heavy eyes on him and it was making him more uncomfortable than ever.

Ever since he met Wednesday and Tyler- then got to know Xavier and Enid- Harry’s life had done nothing but improve. There had been quite a bit of drama at school with Crackstone and Laurel Gates, but Harry wasn’t on drugs, doomed to die, immortal, or jumping off buildings, so really he thought Dr. Kinbott should be really proud of him.

“Liar,” Scarred-Harry told him mockingly. “You won’t even look me in the fuckin eyes, you’ve got shit life wrote all over you.”

Just to prove him wrong, Harry raised narrow eyes to meet his. Scarred-Harry jerked toward him, whispering ‘Boo!’ and Harry looked right back down.

“Coward,” Scarred-Harry drawled. “What’s your problem? Get your bravery beat out of you?”

“Yeah,” Harry said. He looked up, wanting to tell Dr. Kinbott that he wasn’t scared of some… some… some crazy looking boy who bragged about killing nearly thirty people.

“Try going to St. Brutus’ and lockup,” Harry snapped at him- at all of them. The streets and foster care? At least that didn’t come with a cane and handcuffs.

“In fact, try being alone, all the time! Locked up like an animal and treated like crap!” Harry yelled at them. He stood up from his comfortable padded chair and slapped his hands on the table angrily. “Try thinking your dad was alive and then finding out he’s dead! TRY HAVING NO IDEA WHO YOU ARE OR HOW TO ASK QUESTIONS!”

Harry’s chest was heaving when he finished his rant. How dare they mock him? At least Harry wasn’t… wasn’t some…

Successful rockstar, married to a vampire and raising a kid, living with a parent and going to school and making friends, or…

Actually, Scarred-Harry’s life seemed horrifying when compared to the others. His husband was cute though, so Harry supposed that was something.

Harry Stark and Vampire-Harry began clapping while Harry slowly took his seat again.

“So you do have a backbone,” Vampire-Harry said with a grin and a slap to his back. “Good for you, mate. Don’t be afraid to ask questions, curiosity isn’t anything to be ashamed of.”

“That’s what our dad said,” Harry told them all. “Our dad said I should ask questions.

“Not you,” Harry hastily told Harry Stark. “You’ve got your own dad.”

Lucky prat.

Susan led the others inside and scowled when she saw that the boys were still talking at the table. She had plans for the night, none that involved remaining in the little isolated cabin for an eternity.

“You’re joking,” she told them, rolling her eyes when Fred immediately moved to go stand behind their Harry. Fred put his hands on Harry’s shoulders and dropped a kiss to the top of his head, prompting the others to do the exact same thing.

Boys were ridiculous.

“Harry James, I want to go home,” Susan told Harry irritably. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “Pretend to care about their lives so we can leave.”

“Their lives are fuckin brill,” Harry said petulantly. “How do I pretend to give a damn?”

Susan considered it for a moment, trying to figure out the quickest way to get them home and away from this hellhole filled with beautiful women who were unavailable. Jasper, vampire bait-Harry’s blonde husband, was the one who came up with the solution though.

“Here’s an idea, why don’t you all go around the table and say what the best day of your life was and then your worst,” Jasper suggested lightly. His fingers kneaded his Harry’s shoulders when he visibly tensed. “It will show the highest high and lowest low and perhaps we can all make it home soon.”

It was good enough for Susan. She went and stood beside Fred as silent support for their Harry while the others did the same.

Once everyone was in the position they wanted to be in, muggle-Harry lit a cigarette and go the ball rolling after he exhaled.

“The best day of my life was the day I played at Barclays,” Harry said to the others. He smiled up softly at Theo and Susan. “I hit my year sober mark that night, took Theo on a real date, and played to a sold out show of over nineteen thousand.”

And it had been the first night of Harry’s life where his heart warmed with the beginning of love for himself. He’d always loved Ron, Luna, Fred, and George; he’d liked Theo and Hermione well enough, but he’d hated himself.

Then finally he didn’t. Even when the others bragged about their magic and powers, Harry had his sobriety and the love of his friends. Soon, he’d have the love of a husband. And, God willing, Harry would get to a private beach soon to lick every inch of Theo’s body and hide out from paparazzi and obligations.

“And the worst?” Jasper prompted Harry after thoughtfully giving him a few moments to reminisce fondly.

Harry frowned down in the dregs of his coffee. He liked to think that the fact it didn’t refill meant that he was close to going home. It wasn’t a struggle to think of terrible days in his life - when Sirius died, when he’d been taken from his uncle and put in foster care, when he’d blacked out and ruined a record deal for his drugs, and of course when he found Draco, dead in bed with some guy he was fucking - but Harry knew which one hurt the most to share.

“Nobody knows this, but about a year ago I almost broke my sobriety,” Harry told them, informing Theo and Luna for the first time. “I was walking around downtown, trying to get some air, and I found a guy hanging around, selling shit to people from the shadows of an alley.”

Harry took a deep breath and forced himself to finish.

“I bought it,” he whispered bleakly. Theo inhaled sharply, his hands tightening for a moment on Harry’s shoulders. “I bought some smack and took it home. I was going to shoot it up, I had it ready.”

“Why didn’t you?” Vampire-Harry asked him. He reached over and put his hand on Harry’s hand, flattening it to the table and squeezing lightly.

“I was too scared,” Harry said, shame filling him. It had been true- Harry sat there in his living room, the needle drawn up, his arm tied off, and he was too scared to shoot it.

“That’s good, right?” Blue Haired-Harry asked him with childish nativity. He twitched when Harry’s miserable eyes met his hopeful ones. “Or not,” he added in a mumble.

“I have a thousand reasons to stay clean,” Harry told him. He swallowed when he thought how disappointed his friends would be if he’d done it. “A thousand and one reasons to not do it, but none of them mattered all of a sudden. When I sat there- all I thought was ‘I’m scared’ and that’s what stopped me.”

Scarred-Harry nudged Harry’s shoulder with his own.

“Don’t be afraid again,” he said when Harry looked over at him. “Don’t stick a dirty fuckin needle in your arm, you prat, but don’t sit around being scared of letting people down. You’re Harry Potter, you’re bloody brill.

“For a fuckin muggle.”

Harry was willing to follow the bossy Susan Bones (was Susan really that bossy? Harry had never talked to her much… he’d ask Ron to find out for him…) idea if it meant he could get home to his family waiting.

Harry cleared his throat and the others turned to him. He didn’t know if his life really was as dramatic as American-Harry’s, but he didn’t exactly think he had it great either.

“The best day of my life was just a few days ago,” Harry told them all, refusing the blush knowing he was spilling his soul in front of Gwen and Peter. “Da— Tony sent his jet to London to pick up Ron and Hermione, just… he didn’t even care that it was expensive, he still sent his jet there for them. And when they got there, Hermione hugged me.

“You know what she whispered? She said ‘I’m so happy for you.’ And- and I realized that I was happy too. I’ve got Tony and Pepper, Sirius, Peter, Gwen, and I still get to keep Ron and Hermione too. It’s… it’s more than I deserve.”

It was like a whole family. Tony, Pepper, and the Avengers. Sirius, Ron, and Hermione. Peter, Gwen, and Peter’s Aunt May.

Harry didn’t have to choose, he didn’t have to lose anyone. Nobody was getting rid of Harry, they all wanted to be around him. It was everything that Harry used to dream about during long nights in the cupboard.

“And the worst?” Vampire-Harry asked. Harry looked at him while he spoke, Vampire-Harry was the one Harry thought he’d actually miss when he went home. Harry did reach up and touch Peter’s fingers, knowing he was probably going to hurt his feelings a bit.

“I went to school one day and Peter wouldn’t talk to me, he was… er… caught up in stuff,” Harry said, defending Peter. “Then I got home and Tony wasn’t there, he went to Sokavia with his team. He told Jarvis to tell me he’d be back. And,” Harry swallowed, “and Sirius went with him. I- I didn’t actually know if anyone would come back. Everything I had could be lost so easily. They were- they were all just people.”

And Harry had laid in his room, all night, skipped school the next day, and just imagined having the world in the form of his family and then losing them.

It was the darkest couple of days of his life.

Harry didn’t understand love before then though, he hadn’t understood it at all. Then they all disappeared, leaving Harry behind, and Harry suddenly understood it perfectly. Love was the fear that he was going to lose his dad and his godfather and Uncle Rhodey. Love was Harry crying himself to sleep, desperate to see them all again.

Love was when Tony walked in their flat and Harry ran straight to him and Tony didn’t laugh or mock him when Harry had grabbed him and hugged him tightly; reassuring himself that he was there, he was alive, and he was Harry’s family.

“People die, and it hurts,” Vampire-Harry told him solemnly. He stared at Harry and Harry could see in his eyes that their worst fears were similar, but Vampire-Harry lived through it. “Merlin, does it hurt. But- but you just keep the memories, the photographs, and you try and live in a way that they can watch you and be proud, you know?”

Harry didn’t know, but he figured one day he would.

And if Harry was handing out unsolicited advice, then he should go next.

“Best day of my life? It was at Hogwarts,” he told them all, smiling slightly when he thought of easily the best day of his life. “Jazz and I got married there. Alice decorated the whole quidditch pitch and it was lovely, really beautiful. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny stood beside me; Emmett, Rosalie, and Alice stood with Jazz. Teddy was our flower boy. Everyone came- all my friends from school, the Cullen’s who let me join their family, Bella and Andy and everyone I love.

“And you know what? I thought I’d be stressed out, have an episode, but… but they made me love Hogwarts again.”

Scarred-Harry and Harry Stark looked like they knew exactly what he meant; Hogwarts was always home to the lost boys. In any world, with any background, Hogwarts was home.

Harry looked up at Jasper and saw his perfect happiness in memory of the day reflected in Jasper’s face. It had been beautiful and Harry finally saw the beauty in Hogwarts again- he found the beauty in life again. There were no shadows lingering in the background, no memories threatening to overtake Harry’s mind, just…

Just a perfect day full of perfect love.

“I love you,” Jasper whispered.

Harry didn’t have to say anything, he knew Jasper could feel what he wanted him to. Harry turned back to the others and steeled himself to crack his chest open and share his insides with the others.

“Worst day of my life?” Harry laughed harshly, “I don’t have a lack of those. It’s not hard to have endlessly shit days when you live forever. But you know what day I still think about?”

The other Harry’s leaned forward slightly, all silent and ready to listen. It wasn’t anything dramatic, it was just… just the flu.

“Teddy was sick,” Harry told them all, his throat swelling with pain when he thought of it. “He had a fever, he kept puking, and he wouldn’t eat or drink anything. I thought maybe I could handle it, no big deal. Jazz and the others were on a hunting trip, Andy was at her sisters, I thought I had it handled. But then he stopped wetting himself, he got dehydrated and weak, and I took him to the hospital.”

Harry sniffed, trying to keep from sobbing when he remembered how lethargic and weak Teddy had been, limp in his arms, too sick to even cry. It had been awful, truly a horrible day and one Harry would never forget.

“They hooked Teddy up to IV’s, I called Carlisle, and Teddy got admitted,” Harry said in a quiet voice. His face was tilted to the table, but his eyes were only seeing Teddy looking so small in the hospital bed.

“And I realized… I realized that one day Teddy was going to die.” Harry looked around at the others and saw empathy shining in all of their eyes. “Teddy’s going to die one day and I’m going to have to go to his funeral. I’ll still be seventeen and Teddy will be an old man.”

Harry would bury Teddy, he’d bury Ron and Hermione. Hell, Harry would one day bury Ron and Hermione’s kids.

As a seventeen year old.

Dying wasn’t the hardest thing Harry had ever done, living was.

Blue Haired-Harry cleared his throat quietly then peeked at Harry through his black and blue fringe.

“They’re lucky then,” he said, his voice soft. “They’re lucky that you’ll make sure their funerals are perfect.”

Rosalie made a quiet sound, something close to a scoff, but Harry stared at little blue haired-Harry thoughtfully.

“You know what? You’re right.”

Harry grinned at Vampire-Harry and then looked back down. He wouldn’t have went next, he would have stayed quiet, but then American-Harry nudged his trainers under the table with his boots.

“Go ahead, kid,” American-Harry said. “Just rip the bandaid off.”

Harry nodded and tried to think of the ‘best day of his life’. That was easy, actually. It wasn’t like Harry had a lot of great days.

“I went to see Dr. Kinbott, my therapist,” he said, smiling to himself when he thought of it. “And I walked in her office and saw a new painting on her wall- it looked familiar. So I said ‘did Xavier paint that?’ And- and she stopped. She said ‘what did you ask?’ So I asked again.”

Harry hadn’t understood why Dr. Kinbott smiled like Harry’s question made her entire day. He’d been embarrassed, but before he could apologize for it, she’d hugged him so warmly and sweetly that Harry’s eyes had welled with tears.

“She said she was proud of me,” Harry told the other Harrys. “She said that- that the past wasn’t holding on to me anymore and that I was moving on. And… and nobody is ever really proud of me, not for little stuff.”

Wednesday scoffed, loudly, but Harry ignored her. It was different coming from Dr. Kinbott, it meant more because she wasn’t related to him and didn’t have to be proud of him.

“You got out of bed today, that’s an accomplishment,” Harry Stark told him with a firm nod. “I’m proud of you.”

“You killed five people, I’m proud of you,” Scarred-Harry smirked.

Vampire-Harry grinned playfully, “I always wanted blue hair and never did it, so I’m proud of you.”

“And you’re not a chain smoker,” American-Harry sent a sideways smirk at Scarred-Harry, “that’s an accomplishment.”

“Thanks,” Harry told them all genuinely. “I dunno, it sounds dumb, but I’m glad I met you all.”

If nothing else, at least Harry’s life wasn’t as crazy as theirs.

“And the worst day of your life?” Rosalie asked Harry, smiling kindly at him. She was much nicer seeming than Yoko or Marcus.

Harry wracked his memory for a minute and then remembered a horrible day from lockup.

“One day there was a fight in the detention center I was in,” Harry told them. He looked at his lap and bounced his leg anxiously. “These two blokes got into it, I dunno what for. But one of them stabbed the other with a toothbrush he’d sharpened like a knife. And- and we all saw it when they took his body…”

Harry would probably never forget standing up against the door of his cell, peeking through the thick window. They’d had the boy’s body on a gurney, a white sheet covering him completely. When they wheeled him out, Harry heard one of the medical workers mention that the boy only had a few months left on his sentence.

“He was supposed to be released soon- he would have been free,” Harry told them softly. “But he died there… in lockup… no family around, nothing. And I thought ‘what if it was me?’ What if I died there?” Harry forced himself to look up and glance around the table at the others. Nobody was laughing, they all looked like they were actually listening, actually processing the story.

“If I died there then I never would have been freed,” Harry told them with a small and unhappy shrug. “I never would have met my cousin, or my godfather, or my boyfriends. I would just be some dead bloke from lockup.”

And Harry never would have made anyone proud. He never would have been happy. He never would have had anything.

It was why Harry knew that freedom didn’t have a cost that he wasn’t willing to pay.

“I almost died in prison once,” Scarred-Harry said. He raised his chin arrogantly and narrowed his eyes at the other one at a time. “You’re right, being free is the most important thing.”

Harry grinned at him, feeling fond of the crazy boy. “Yeah,” he agreed. “It is.”

Harry rolled his eyes at the others. He hated ‘group therapy’. He didn’t like it when Lupin tried to force the gang in it, he didn’t like it when it was just him and Sue talking together.

“Rosie’s first Christmas,” Susan whispered to Harry, as if she knew his reluctance to talk.

“Our first Christmas married,” Fred added in a whisper in Harry’s other ear.

“Shut up,” Harry snapped. He groaned and rolled his eyes. They were right, he needed to get home. It wasn’t real anyway, probably. It was just some fucked up nightmare.

“Best day of my life? Easy, the day I got to Hogwarts. I got to Hogwarts and everything was brill,” Harry said smugly. “I had a bed, food whenever I wanted it. I had my gang, I had mysteries to solve, and I had Sev. I had it all.”

Harry did. He had everything he could want. Harry had Susan and Sev and everyone was young, whole, and happy. If not happy, then at least alive. He’d been spoiled then, with his posh bed and the rich foods. Mavis was a brill cook, but nothing would beat those first hot meals Harry had in his life.

He’d give almost anything to go back to his first day at Hogwarts, it was all so much easier. He’d befriend Fred sooner, he’d spend more time with Mione. He would have gotten Luna and Trent right after their sortings and added them to his gang.

Sev wouldn’t be so stressed out, Harry wouldn’t have had to ask him to kill him.

Susan kissed the top of Harry’s head and murmured something sweet and indecipherable. Harry gave her a half-smile and then knew he had to talk about the worst day.

Where to start? There were days in his childhood when Harry had been starving and frozen on the streets. There were days when he’d been in Azkaban and seeing his friends all dying over and over again. There were the days that Trent and Mione died, the day Blaise was attacked, the day he thought George’s lifeless looking body was Fred.

In Harry’s memory, he had more bad days than good.

“My worst day hasn’t happened yet,” he said, forcing himself to look blank and emotionless. He cleared his mind and focused just on the blunt truth.

“One day soon I’m going to turn to the man who loves me, took me in, helped me time and time again for no reason, and I’m going to ask him to kill me.” Harry swallowed harshly and stuck one hand in his pocket, seeking out his knife, and rubbed the table with the thumb on his other hand.

“He’s going to kill me, Sue’s going to kill Timmy, and then everyone’s going to celebrate Timmy being dead,” Harry went on. He could picture it so clearly- the whole wizarding world would celebrate on the day Harry died, just as they had when James and Lily Potter did. They wouldn’t care about what winning the war cost, they would just celebrate it being over.

“And you know who’s going to be upset?” Harry pointed over his shoulder at Susan and Fred, he couldn’t look at them, but he knew they’d be wearing their premature grief all over their faces. “My people. And I won’t be there for them. Who will make them hot chocolate? Who’s going to read to Theo if he can’t sleep? Not you,” he sneered at muggle-Theo who was standing behind muggle-Harry in a way that Theo better never stand behind Harry.

“My brother is going to be crushed and he’s got a baby, my goddaughter,” Harry told them. “Is someone going to listen to Fred cry? Is someone going to drink with Sev? Probably not. You know why? Because I do those things. I do them,” he stressed. “But I’ll be gone. I’ll be watching from hell, maybe. And it’s going to be the worst fuckin day of my life.”

Nobody had anything to say, there wasn’t anything to say.

These Harry’s, these imposters, would live their life and keep getting good and bad memories, and Harry would be dead.

What could anyone say to refute that?

Pop!

Pop!

Pop!

Pop!

Pop!

Everyone turned to look when five small golden trophies popped up and replaced the food from the girls’ table. Each trophy had a small plaque attached and everyone moved closer to read them.

“‘Harry Stark-Potter, go home to your dad’,” Gwen read from one of them. “‘Password: Iron Man’.”

“Here’s yours,” Tyler told his Harry. “‘Harry Potter, return to Nevermore. Password: Hyde’.”

Blue Haired-Harry snorted and grinned playfully at his boyfriend. “I don’t know where they got such a password.”

“This must be mine,” American-Harry said. “‘Harry Potter, trip to New York. Password: music.’”

“And ours,” Vampire-Harry told Jasper and Rosalie. “Look, Harry Potter-Hale, Oi!” Harry glared playfully at Jasper. “I told you we’re the Potters!”

“Seems magic disagrees with you,” Jasper smirked.

“And our password is blood, touching,” Rosalie said with a haughty toss of her blonde hair.

Susan squatted down to read the plaque on the final trophy, and she winked at her Harry when she did.

“‘Harry Potter, return to Invisibility Way, password ‘Sevvie’.”

“Brill,” Scarred-Harry chuckled. “Theo’ll be pissed when he finds out they used a common password.”

Everyone lingered for a moment, staring each other down with curious and amicable gazes.

“Well, I suppose this is goodbye,” Harry Stark finally said. He grinned at the others. “If you’re ever in New York, look up Iron Man and you’ll find me.”

“Merry Christmas,” Vampire-Harry told Harry Stark, Peter, and Gwen. He, Jasper, and Rosalie grabbed their trophy as well and sent a final cheery nod to everyone. “If you ever want to come to Forks and race me, I’ll be there.”

Harry Stark and Vampire-Harry both disappeared with their groups, almost simultaneously. Startled at realizing he was left alone with the oldest and the coldest two Harry’s, blue haired-Harry grabbed his trophy and held it out for Wednesday and Tyler.

“Er… bye,” blue haired-Harry said. He didn’t wait for his farewell to be replied to before he activated the trip home with the password.

“Hey, hold up,” American-Harry stopped Scarred-Harry before he too could leave. He slowly put his hand on the smaller Harry’s shoulder and stared down sagely in Scarred-Harry’s eyes.

“For the record, I think you’re the bravest Harry here,” he told him. “What you’re facing? I don’t know if I could.”

Scarred-Harry held the trophy behind his back for Fred and Susan to grab and he nodded at American-Harry.

“For the record? I don’t know if I can either,” he told him. Harry gave the older Harry a mocking salute and then activated his portkey to go home to his Rosie, his Sev, his brother, and his family.

Harry looked at Theo and Luna and shook his head.

“I hope this works,” he told them. “Because fuck this has been a nightmare.”

Theo stepped forward and kissed Harry lightly on the lips, his brown eyes twinkling.

“You’re a role model to Harry’s everywhere,” he snickered. “Come on, you ‘muggle’, let’s go do Christmas so we can go to Hawaii.”

The three of them grabbed the trophy and Harry whispered the password to take them back to the city Harry loved.

All the Harry’s, all their lovers, and all their best friends stepped outside of a red tent with their memories of their encounter removed and replaced with boring Christmas events happening.

When the Harry’s went to sleep that night, all five of them had the same thought-

No matter how hard their life had been, how terrible they thought they had it, they were certain that someone somewhere had it worse.

Fin.