Chapter Twenty-Three
Just as suddenly as things had gone black, things were back. Only, it was immediately clear that something had happened in between. As far as he remembered, he'd been standing when things had gone dark. Also, his hands weren't tied behind his back and he had his wand in his hand.
Instead, Harry was on his knees with his hands magically bound behind him. His wand was in front of him in the hands of Lord Voldemort himself. Voldemort examined the wand carefully, taking particular care with it. Harry supposed that did make a certain amount of sense. It was the brother to his own wand after all.
When Voldemort was done dealing with the wand, he absentmindedly held it out in his right hand. That's when Daphne Greengrass stepped out from behind him. She looked at Harry as she took the wand, triumph in her eyes, and suddenly, everything made sense.
"How long?" Harry asked. As he spoke, he became more aware of the room around him. The Death Eaters that they had taken out now surrounded them. That meant that a not insubstantial amount of time had passed, long enough for Voldemort and Daphne to wake up the other Death Eaters.
Next to Harry sat Hermione and Ron. Like him, they were bound and on their knees. However, unlike Harry, they had clearly been magically silenced as both of them appeared to be shouting at Daphne, but no sound came out.
"How long what?" Daphne asked mockingly. "How long have I been a loyal servant of The Dark Lord? My entire life, of course. For a Greengrass, there is no higher calling."
"I personally identified Daphne at a young age," Voldemort hissed. "I recognized a talent for deception. When you began your teenage rebellion against Dumbledore, you provided her with the perfect opportunity to get close to you, to watch how you worked."
"When you disappeared after Godric's Hollow, I knew that the best way to keep track of you while also serving The Dark Lord was to join the Aurors. Even becoming a regular Auror would have been helpful, but my place in the SAF allowed me to pass information from the Ministry to The Dark Lord himself. I became his personal informant, sending him letters about what the SAF was doing, what information the Ministry had on you. For the last five years, I have been his eyes and ears."
Harry should have known. When he returned from his training, he had been so dedicated to the idea of getting allies that he hadn't been watching them closely enough. By the time that Daphne had really started to conspire against him, she had done the work to earn his trust. Even though she'd been a Slytherin, Harry had trusted her implicitly. She'd been a part of the SAF, she'd been a part of their plan to infiltrate Malfoy Manor.
He'd trusted her more than almost anyone else, just as she had intended.
"You were behind Malfoy, weren't you?" Harry asked. "You were the one that got him to pass us the information."
"The Imperius Curse is a wonderful tool," Daphne remarked. "It wasn't difficult. His mind has gotten weak since he was released from Azkaban. All those years of self-pity made him remarkably malleable. I told him to tell you that The Dark Lord was at Malfoy Manor. He used Rabastan Lestrange as a cover for the information even though Lestrange has been dead for more than a year. As I expected, Malfoy performed wonderfully and you bought the story."
"But you were right there along with us, ensuring that he was complying."
"I was," Daphne bragged. "I knew that you were getting close to discovering The Dark Lord's plan, so I devised a strategy that would guarantee that you would fail."
"How's that?" Harry asked.
"You are currently restrained, are you not?" Daphne said mockingly. "But, there were many parts to the plan. I needed you to get inside Malfoy Manor. If you hadn't been able to get through the wards, you would have easily escaped. Once we were through, there was the matter of the water dragon. It was the only part of the plan that I couldn't truly control. Thankfully, your panache for survival came through."
"At that point, the primary goal was to capture you. However, having listened and learned from Ron and Parvati over the years, I knew that your skill was nothing to be trifled with. So, I came up with a contingency that Dolohov enacted perfectly."
"You became the bait," Harry scoffed. "Did you even get cursed?"
"Oh, yes," Daphne assured him. "Had to make it look good, didn't I? If I'd faked it, then there was a chance that you would have seen through the ruse. No, I've spent most of the last three days in bed, but it was well worth it."
Harry had to admit that the plan was a good one. There was just one part of it that he didn't understand.
"Why did you bring Parvati into it?"
"That was my request," Voldemort replied. "Patil was causing a great deal of damage to the support network that my Death Eaters had built up over the last few years. Since Daphne had already done such a wonderful job at baiting the hook for you, Harry, I thought why not get your lover in on the action. Of course, I had no idea that you had fallen for the Mudblood instead."
"Watch your mouth!" Harry shouted, but Voldemort simply smiled at him.
"You are not in a position to make demands, boy," Voldemort snarled. "Even though Miss Greengrass failed to capture you or kill Patil, she promised me that you had developed a bond with her. She promised that if I used her as bait, if I hinted at where we were hiding, you would come running. She wasn't wrong."
Suddenly, Voldemort turned back to the device and waved his wand at it. Immediately, it began to light up with magical energy that seemed to channel through the four columns until the energy between them suddenly reached out towards each other, creating a cross of energy between them. As that happened, a single bead of light fell from the center of that cross, hitting the glass circle below it.
When the bead hit the glass, the glass lit up like some of Fred and George's fireworks, creating a pillar of light between the glass and the cross at the top. Inside that pillar of light, Harry could see a green field similar to the ones that had once surrounded this fortress.
"As I stated, I could have done this at any time, but I wanted you to be here. I wanted you to watch," Voldemort sneered. "From the time I was born until the day that I murdered your parents, I was unstoppable. Not even the great Albus Dumbledore could keep me from what I wanted. And then, a baby broke me. Thankfully, the magic that protected you didn't kill me, but that hasn't stopped me from thinking about that day. What kind of power would I wield if I could go back and prevent that from ever happening?"
"At first, I considered modifying a Time-Turner to do my bidding, but as you already know, the amount of magical power required to create something like that would have been too much, even for someone as powerful as me. Instead, I settled on this solution. It's less elegant but I assure you, it will get that job done."
Voldemort circled around the device so that he was on one side, Harry on the other, with the fields of Godric's Hollow between them.
"October 31, 1981. It's just before nine in the evening. In forty minutes, I will walk down the main street of Godric's Hollow, avoiding the small children who are wandering around, begging for candy. Only, this time, just before I reach the Potter residence, I will be stopped...by me."
"You can't do that," Harry said. "Do you have any idea what that could do to time?"
"There is no evidence to suggest that interaction with your past self causes any concerns for the safety of our world. The only concern is for those who lack the mental fortitude to understand the circumstances of time travel. I ask you this: what wizard exists that is more likely to have conquered time and space? There is none and when my younger self sees me, he will know that I have done what no one else has done."
"I will encourage him to kill you but to leave James and Lily Potter alive. When that happens, time itself will shift and I will almost certainly cease to exist as I do now. But, the new version of me, a Lord Voldemort that remains unchallenged, unbroken, he will certainly rule our world and the Muggles' world. Without you, there will be no one to stand against me and in time, the world will be mine."
Harry watched as the rift between them suddenly seemed to become more solid.
"It is ready," Voldemort whispered. "The magic of structure and the device will keep this portal open for nearly an hour. My Death Eaters, it is your job to protect it. Ensure that none of them have the opportunity to interfere."
Voldemort suddenly leaned down in front of Hermione so that his face was only inches from hers.
"Leave her alone!" Harry roared.
"Look at him," Voldemort taunted. When Hermione refused, he stabbed his wand at her, forcing her head to rotate towards Harry. "You will watch him. You will watch until the rift disappears and the timeline changes. You will watch as he vanishes before your very eyes, his existence undone. He will likely be the first in billions of casualties but his death is the only one that matters."
Voldemort then stood, towering over all of them as they remained on the floor.
"Goodbye, Harry Potter."
Then, without hesitation, Voldemort turned and stepped into the rift. Harry watched him fade into nothingness before an image of him suddenly appeared in the fields. Voldemort turned back to Harry and smiled menacingly before he turned and Apparated away.
A sense of terror built to a great crescendo inside Harry. Voldemort had done it. He'd gone back in time and in a matter of minutes, he would have the ability to change everything. Harry needed to get free. He looked over at Ron and Hermione, both of whom stared back at him apoplectically, shaking their heads. Looking around the room, Harry saw more than two dozen Death Eaters. He recognized a few of them. Augustus Rookwood was there and so was Corban Yaxley. But most of them were fresh faces, new recruits to Voldemort's army.
Finally, Harry looked up at Daphne. She stared at him with a menace that Harry simply couldn't believe.
"Please," Harry begged, "you have to help me."
"Why?" Daphne asked. "For more than a decade, I've hidden myself among your people so that I could get close to you. You think I'm going to give that up because you were nice to me?"
"You're a better person than this," Harry said sternly. "I refuse to believe that this is what you want."
Daphne smiled and then leaned down in front of him.
"Harry, you must understand something. You never knew me. You've never met the real me. What you met, the person that you learned to trust, that person was a myth, a story that I made up to do what The Dark Lord asked of me. I've done what Lestrange and Snape and even my father could have never done and I did it without raising my wand one time. They were simpletons, fools who thought only with their wands. I knew that there was no way to defeat you in combat, so I didn't try."
"Why fight a battle that you can't win, right?"
"Exactly," Daphne replied. "I have to admit that you were far more formidable than I imagined. Honestly, I thought the dragon would kill you."
"I'm a bit tougher to kill than that."
"I'm aware," Daphne said. "If you had been just a bit wiser, just a bit less trusting, I never would have succeeded. But, trust me, you did, and that was your greatest flaw."
Harry supposed that she was right. Albus had always railed on about love and trust, but he'd been hurt by those things just as much as he'd been helped by them. Thankfully, Harry did have other weapons at his disposal.
"Daphne, did you mourn when I killed you father?" Harry said. It was a simple question, one asked not of malice or spite but out of sheer curiosity. To Harry's great surprise, Daphne looked offended.
"How dare you ask me that? He was my blood, my father. That is the most important thing in this world."
"But he was also a threat to you," Harry pointed out. "You clearly see yourself as Riddle's right hand."
"Don't use his Muggle name," Daphne snapped.
"I'll use whatever name I want," Harry replied. "Also, I'd like my wand back."
Immediately, the other Death Eaters laughed as Daphne glared at him.
"And what makes you think that I would do such a stupid thing?"
"Well, ask your father when you see him," Harry said menacingly, "he'll tell you."
That's when Harry, someone who had long ago mastered a number of different spells both non-verbally and wandlessly, revealed that he was no longer bound as he threw his right hand forward, Summoning his wand from out of Daphne's hand into his own.
Now that Harry had a wand, it was an even fight. Harry's magic surged as he systematically took the Death Eaters out one-by-one until only he and Daphne stood. Without looking away from his former ally, Harry waved his wand, cancelling the spells on Ron and Hermione. They each picked up their wands and stood on either side of Harry, all of them glaring at Daphne, their betrayer.
"If you think that you can stop him, you are mistaken," Daphne growled. "We would all gladly give our lives in his service!"
"Oh, you will," Harry replied. "Just not exactly how you think."
Then, Harry whipped his wand towards Daphne, throwing her back against the wall behind her and knocking her unconscious. With the Death Eaters taken care of, there was no time to lose. Harry walked over to the rift which still showed the green grassses of Godric's Hollow.
"We'll be here when you get back," Hermione said softly. Harry turned to her.
"How did you know?"
"Someone has to be here in case one of the Death Eaters wake up," Hermione replied. "But more than that, you don't want him to use us like he did Viktor."
"You're right," Harry confirmed. "I shouldn't be surprised. You're usually right."
"I'm certain that it's one of my more annoying traits," Hermoine replied warmly. "Now, if Voldemort was right, you have about forty minutes left to get in there and stop him before you get back out."
Harry nodded. He was about to step through the rift when Hermione grabbed his arm.
"You get back out," Hermione stated. "That's an order. You come back."
Harry could hear the fear in her voice, the same fear that was building somewhere deep in his stomach. He knew that he had the power to defeat Lord Voldemort, but that didn't mean that it was going to be likely or easy.
"I will," Harry promised, both of them knowing that it wasn't a promise that he could guarantee that he would be able to keep. Still, Harry would do his best.
"Get moving, mate," Ron said. "We'll call in the cavalry so that these Death Eaters can't interrupt what you're doing."
"Thanks," Harry said, extending a hand to his oldest friend. When Ron took it, Harry leaned in to whisper in his ear. "If something happens-"
"Don't do that," Ron replied. "You promised her. You're coming back."
Harry smiled and nodded. Then, he turned to the rift.
"Wish me luck."
Harry extended his hand and touched the rift. It felt strange as if his hand was suddenly miles and miles away. As he stepped further into the rift, it felt as if his body was being stretched until suddenly, Harry was dragged through the rift like a rubber band snapping when it reached the end of its length.
He landed gracelessly in the green grass that had been on the other side of the portal only seconds earlier. As he picked himself off the ground, he turned back and saw Ron and Hermione standing on the other side of a shimmer hole just a few feet off the ground. He gave them one final wave before he turned away and faced Godric's Hollow.
Harry had never seen the town in its prime other than in his dreams. Even then, the only location that had featured was brief glimpses of the house that his parents had been killed in. The town was small, quaint, peaceful. Knowing that he had no time to waste, Harry Apparated to the edge of town, imagining the spot where they had camped the night before, albeit in 2002, not 1981. He landed to see a town bustling with life, children running through the streets as was common on Halloween night. Maybe, if things had turned out differently, Harry could have been one of these children.
Maybe, he could have had children of his own here.
Harry shook the thoughts of a happier time away from his mind. He was quite literally running out of time. With each passing minute, Voldemort was closer to achieving his goal. Harry wandered into town, sticking to the alleys and side streets that divided the houses in order to avoid as many people as possible.
After all, he was a spitting image of James Potter.
Harry needed a vantage point, somewhere he could see the town. In a sense, it was like he was a Seeker again, wanting to float above the mess of the game, waiting for the Snitch to appear. Only this time, the Snitch was an evil man hellbent on the destruction of Harry and everyone that he loved.
That's when Harry remembered the church tower. According to what he knew about the town, it wasn't far from where the Potter residence had been and it would allow him to see everything. Harry sprinted through the town towards the church. As expected, the doors were locked when Harry arrived, although that only momentarily slowed him down. Once inside the church, Harry raced through the building, eventually finding a set of spiral stairs that led all the way up to the very top of the belltower.
As he anticipated, Harry could see the entire town from up here. However, Harry didn't expect the belltower to be occupied, especially not by Lord Voldemort himself. He was standing at the railing, staring out over the town towards the home that would soon become nothing more than a broken pile of wood and stone.
Harry drew his wand. As he did, Voldemort spoke.
"Godric's Hollow. Home to the Founder of Gryffindor House. Home to the Potters," Voldemort muttered. Harry wasn't entirely certain if he was talking to Harry or himself. Harry supposed that it could have been both.
"Every defeat that I've ever suffered is tied to this place," Voldemort added. "Every defeat is tied to you. For years, I feared Dumbledore, knowing the power that he possessed. It was admittedly part of the reason why I worked from the shadows for so long. But Dumbledore never defeated me, not even once."
Voldemort turned around and Harry saw a rage burning through him that Harry had never seen from the Dark wizard. He'd always been calm, collected, even. The only real emotion that Voldemort had ever shown was fear, a fear brought on by the uncertainty of the Priori Incantatem.
Harry looked down at his wand, the wand that had created the effect in the first place.
"You wonder why our wands will do battle now when they did not before?" Voldemort asked. "They may be brothers, but like any other family, they can be divided."
"The wands recognize each other as enemies," Harry stated. "Just like their owners."
"Exactly, my boy, exactly," Voldemort whispered. "You know I thought that by coming back in time, I could remove you from the equation. But, neither can live while the other survives, right? It was never about removing you. I see that now. No, the only way forward is to kill you. Here and now where you stand. Once I'm done with that, then I can take care of you as a child."
In the blink of an eye, Voldemort drew his wand back over his head and threw it towards Harry.
"Avada Kedavra!"
The green jet of light flew just past Harry's head as he slipped to the side. As he did, Harry swung his own wand towards Voldemort and he didn't miss. The Banishing Charm hit Voldemort in the chest and threw him through the railing behind him. He hit the roof more than ten meters below at speed, crying out in pain as he landed.
Harry followed the dark wizard, leaping off the belltower. As he floated towards Voldemort, he aimed his wand straight down.
"Confringo!"
The spell flew from the end of Harry's wand towards Voldemort, who only barely managed to get a shield up in time. However, the effect still remained and a massive hole was blown in the roof, causing both Harry and Voldemort to fall through it. Each of them eased their fall, landing on their feet in the center of the church below. Harry had landed on the pedestal at the front, the cross just behind him, while Voldemort, a demon in his own right, stood in the center of the aisle between rows and rows of pews.
Even though Voldemort had blocked the Blasting Curse, it was clear that it had done a fair amount of damage to the older wizard, covering the left side of his body in burns. However, before Harry could attack again, Voldemort healed the burns, leaving large sections of raw, pink skin exposed.
"It is a shame that you have chosen death," Voldemort said. "You have become something far more powerful than any of us could have imagined for you. While you still pale in comparison to me, you would be a formidable ally."
"You tried that once already, remember?" Harry asked. "I told you no when I was eleven and my answer has not changed."
"Then you are as foolish today as you were then," Voldemort replied. "Although, it was wise of you not to bring Hermione and Ron with you. I know the guilt that you feel over Viktor Krum. Can you imagine how that same scenario would feel with Hermione in his place?"
"Stop saying her name," Harry growled.
"At least now, when I kill them, you'll already be dead," Voldemort taunted.
"No!"
Harry's aura, which had been shimmering before, suddenly seemed to wash the entire room with white light. Much like it had before, Harry now looked as if he were on fire, the magic within his body radiating heat and power from every pore in his body.
"I blamed myself for Viktor's death for a long time," Harry growled as he stalked towards Riddle. "I told myself that I was selfish. That I prioritized revenge over saving a friend. Maybe that's true. But what I do know is that if Viktor were alive today, he would have told me to make the same choice. The choice between saving one life and millions is the hardest one to make and yet, that's what I have to do."
"Can you save one life?" Voldemort replied. "You stand here in front of me, thinking that this sudden display of power will cause me to fear you? I don't fear you, Potter."
Harry didn't respond with words. Instead, he attacked Voldemort with every bit of his power. He threw Cutting Curses, Stunners, Banishing Charms, everything that he could think of at his mortal enemy. Voldemort blocked everything that Harry threw, but not with ease. The first strike was a Stunner that hit Voldemort in the shoulder, throwing him to the ground.
Voldemort hit Harry with a Cutting Curse moments later that cut across his left arm, spilling his blood over the concrete below. However, Harry was able to heal the wound while they fought and pressed on.
For more than ten minutes, Harry and Voldemort dueled. There was no audience. There were no Death Eaters, no Legion. There was no one but Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort. For each spell that hit, a counter was made. Each time it seemed that momentum had been taken, the other tore it back from their opponent.
However, in the end, it was not magic that turned the tide. While Harry and Voldemort both had nearly inexhaustible stores of magic, they were still men. Powerful men. Probably two of the most powerful men on the planet and yet, men all the same. Specifically, one of them was in his early twenties and while his life had not been easy, he'd spent years of his life training for this specific duel.
On the other hand, his opponent was in his seventies and had sacrificed much of what made him human in order to obtain power and immortality. But, like all sacrifices, it came at a cost and as Harry continued to press forward, his spells continuing to come with speed and power, Voldemort began to falter. His wand was just a bit slower as the battle dragged, his reactions just that much more delayed.
Against any other opponent, Voldemort would have been fine. However, he was up against Harry James Potter, The Boy Who Lived, and he was not any other opponent.
The first spell to break the dam was a Banishing Charm that threw Voldemort against the wall. Unlike every other time, Voldemort took a moment to collect himself. His body, the thing that he had sought to preserve in life forever, was betraying him. He could feel his bones crumbling beneath him against the onslaught of Harry's spells and for the first time, he truly felt fear.
Harry saw that hesitation and pressed the advantage. Unlike before, when Harry had attacked with reckless abandon, this time, his attacks were surgical, precise, accurate, and powerful. They forced Voldemort to put his wand in uncomfortable positions and prevented him from regaining his balance.
Finally, when a Shield Charm forced Voldemort's wand hand up in the air, Harry saw his moment and struck. Just like he had with Bellatrix Lestrange years earlier, Harry cast a Cutting Curse that struck Voldemort in the forearm, removing the hand that had killed so many people and effectively neutering Voldemort in the process.
As Voldemort howled in pain, Harry Summoned Voldemort's wand to his own hand. Just like Voldemort had earlier, Harry considered the wand for a moment. Then, he took the wand in both hands and violently snapped it in half.
"No!" Voldemort cried out, scrambling across the floor towards the shattered pieces of his broken wand. Harry flicked his wand and threw Voldemort back towards the center of the room where he forced Voldemort to his knees and then bound him much as Voldemort had done to Harry.
"You won't kill me," Voldemort growled in fury. "You aren't a killer. You never have been. I've seen your mind, Potter. You hate what you did to Bellatrix Lestrange. You hate what you did to Greengrass. You might have enjoyed it a little at the time, but the further away you get from those moments, the more you fight to live with yourself."
"You're not wrong," Harry conceded. "I thought that, in order to beat you, I had to fight more like you. But I watched what being like you did to Parvati. That rage, that drive to kill: it consumed her. I knew that, regardless of what happened, I could never let that be me."
Voldemort glared at Harry, his arm bleeding openly on the floor.
"Then take me to Azkaban," Voldemort said. "Take me there and keep your honor."
Harry shook his head. "I can't. Like I said, it's the choice between one and millions. I may hate parts of myself for what I did to Bellatrix and Greengrass. But that's because I killed those people out of cruelty and malice, the way you kill people. No, when I kill you, it will be to save lives."
"Tell yourself that, boy. Keep telling yourself that you do it to-"
Harry interrupted Voldemort by drawing a line through the air towards the Dark Lord. Immediately, Voldemort stopped talking and grasped for his neck. He stared at Harry for just a moment, genuinely surprised at what had just happened, before his head, just like Penelope Clearwater's, rolled off his shoulders and onto the floor.
His body stayed upright for just a moment before it followed, collapsing onto the ground with a wet thud. And yet, after everything that Harry had seen, he didn't lower his wand. Instead, he walked towards the body. He kneeled down next to Voldemort's corpse and placed his hand on his chest. No movement, no breathing, nothing. His head sat to Harry's right, its eyes closed.
Tom Marvolo Riddle, the terrorist known as Lord Voldemort, was dead.
As that thought crossed his mind, the realization of what that meant hit him like a Bludger to the chest. He was free. He had finally finished the task. Tears flowed freely down Harry's face as the weight of all those years of responsibility suddenly lifted from his shoulder.
Harry had always feared that this would never end. That Voldemort would somehow manage to survive, to live on even after death. Harry feared that his life would forever be defined by his failure to eliminate the man who had killed his parents. But now, he was released of that terrible burden, finally free to just live whatever life he chose.
He only needed to get back home.
"Put your hands up."
Harry recognized the voice immediately. How could he not? Ever since that fateful day on the train before his third year, his voice had been burned into his mind, a sound that he would never forget.
Harry did as he asked, raising his hands as he slowly turned back towards the source of the voice. Sure enough, standing in front of him, only a few feet away, were James and Lily Potter, their wands pointed straight at him. They had clearly come to investigate the commotion at the church. Harry imagined that this was not exactly what they had expected to walk in on.
His father looked almost identical to the face that Harry saw in the mirror each morning minus the beard and the scars. His jaw was a bit more square than Harry's and he stood a few inches taller, but all in all, they were largely the same.
And yet, they were different because behind James's glasses were a pair of warm, brown eyes. The green eyes belonged to his mother. She was taller than James, a fact that no one had ever bothered to tell Harry. And even though she held her wand at Harry, he could see the warmth that everyone had told him about. The edges of her mouth were worn where a smile would normally. Instead, she wore a frown, but Harry could tell that it was an unfamiliar feeling for her as if something foreign had taken over her body and contorted into something that she was actively fighting against.
Harry could only imagine what the pair of them had seen. Since before they were born, their world had been at war with itself.
And yet, Lily Potter clearly still found it in her heart to smile.
They stood there, the three of them, staring at each other. While his words had been strong, the moment Harry revealed his face, his father's wand faltered.
"What the hell?" James muttered. "What...I don't….what happened here?"
That's when James noticed the body on the floor behind Harry. More specifically, he noticed the identity of the body.
"Is that...him?" James asked. "What in the hell is going on here?"
"Well, you see, I…."
Harry had no explanation that would make any sense. Thankfully, he wouldn't need one. Before Harry could spit out some terrible lie, his mother finally spoke.
"Harry?"
Harry turned to face his mother, who stared at him with a mix of confusion and love. She was smiling at him.
She knew.
"What?" James scoffed. "Lily, what are you talking about?"
"Look at his eyes, James," Lily replied warmly. "He's you. He looks just like you, only he has-"
"Your eyes," Harry nodded, not bothering to deny it. "I've only been told that about a thousand times."
All three of them stood in silence. Then, without warning, Lily crossed the distance between the two of them and wrapped her arms around him and in that moment, Harry had never been happier. All his life, he imagined what it must have been like to be hugged by his mother. Molly Wealsey had done her best to fill in, but it wasn't the same.
Now, here he was, sobbing into his mother's shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him. James finally caught on to what was happening and joined them, wrapping his arms around his wife and his son, holding the two of them.
For a few moments, they stood there, a family, complete.
Eventually, Lily let go of Harry and took his face in her hands.
"How is this possible?" Lily asked.
How to answer that question? There were twenty plus years of history to explain, if he could explain it at all.
"I'm from the future," Harry said. "So is he. He came back here to change the past."
"How?" James asked.
"He wanted to change what happened tonight," Harry blurted out before he could stop himself. "The prophecy...he…"
"It was you," James realized. "Albus was right."
Harry nodded.
"What happened?" Lily asked. For a moment, Harry considered lying. He considered refusing to tell her anything. But this was his mother. How could he lie to her?
"He found us," Harry said softly. "He found us all."
"But you're still alive," James pointed out.
"Yes, I am."
While his father clearly wasn't sure what that meant, his mother picked it up instantly.
"Tonight?" she asked to which Harry nodded.
"In less than an hour," he responded.
"He...he kills us?" James asked, catching up to his wife. Again, Harry nodded.
Instantly, Lily grabbed Harry by the shoulders, an urgency to her actions that hadn't been there before. The frown had returned to her face and the next words she spoke were uttered in an almost desperate tone.
"You have to wipe our memories."
"What?" Harry and James said simultaneously.
"We can't know about this," Lily said. "It has to happen."
"But, I'm here," Harry argued firmly. "I know he's coming. I can save you!"
How was it possible that, after all this, he was going to lose them all over again? Harry knew about the perils of changing the timeline. When he'd gone through the rift, he'd never once considered changing the past, but seeing his parents, seeing them alive, that changed things. How could he just walk away from them? How could he just let them die?
"No, you can't," James said. "Your mother is right."
A part of Harry's brain heard what his father said, but the other part ignored him. He refused to let his parents die. After more than twenty years of mourning for them, he finally had the opportunity to bring them home. Why couldn't they see that? Why couldn't they accept that he could change things?
"Why?"
"Because he's dead," Lily said, pointing to Voldemort's corpse. "We know there is a future where you survive. We know there's a future where you win. What if you save us and create something far worse? What if you save us and become something else yourself?"
This was...unfair. How could he be expected to do this? After everything he'd given up, everything he'd sacrificed, why? Had fate decided that his victory hadn't enough? That the lives of his parents, his godfather, and thousands others hadn't been worth it?"
"I...can't."
"You have to, Harry," Lily whispered. "If it is our destiny to die in order to ensure that you live, then that is the nature of things. Your father and I would make that choice a thousand times."
"She's right," James agreed, although Harry could see that it was a difficult thing for him to say. Unlike his mother, who had immediately understood and accepted what needed to be done, his father seemed to be struggling with it more. Still, he sided with his wife. "You have to wipe our memories. We have to die. And you have to go home."
They were right.
He knew they were right. But that didn't make hearing it or admitting it any easier. Lily, sensing his acceptance, motioned for James to join them and for one final time, each of them held their son, the son that had grown into a man, the man who had vanquished the Dark Lord.
When Lily finally let go, she looked at Harry, tears streaming down her own face.
"We are so proud of you, Harry," Lily whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "I cannot imagine what horrible things you've gone through to get to this point. I can't imagine how terrible this must be for you. But I do know that you've sacrificed a great deal just to be here. I know that this isn't fair, but I know that you are a good man. Now, do what you must, so that we all can go home."
Lily leaned up and kissed Harry on his cheek before James walked over to his son and did the same. Then, they each turned away from Harry. James reached out and took Lily's hand and together, they stood hand-in-hand waiting to forget everything that they'd just been told.
Harry, with tears streaming down his face, stood there with his wand outstretched.
"I love you," Harry said softly.
"We love you," James and Lily said together.
The first flick of his wand was a memory alteration spell. They would immediately forget everything that they'd done since they left their house.
"Imperio. Imperio."
The moment the spell was cast, Harry could see the posture change. They each sagged, clearly under the effects of the Imperius Curse.
"Go home. Go home and protect your son."
Without hesitation, James and Lily walked out of the church. Once they were out of sight, Harry looked down at his watch. There was only five minutes left until Voldemort was going to come through the town and fifteen until the rift would close.
Harry quickly fixed the hole in the roof before he climbed to the belltower once again. There, he watched as a cloaked figure, unaware of Harry's presence, walked down the street towards the Potter home. Harry watched as Voldemort entered the house and moments later, Harry could hear James shout, although Harry couldn't be certain if it was the sound from the house or his memories shouting in his mind.
"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"
James Potter stood no chance. He hadn't even brought his wand with him and a moment later, there was a green flash of light followed by silence. There was nothing for several moments as Harry imagined Voldemort climbing the stairs to his nursery.
Then, without warning, another flash of green light.
He gripped the railing in front of him for support. His parents were dead and he'd ensured that it happened.
A moment later, the final piece of the puzzle fell in place when the Potter home suddenly seemed to explode.
It was done. Harry had defeated Voldemort and ensured that the timeline remained intact.
It was the hardest thing he'd ever done.
Now, it was time to return home.
It had been too long. Ron looked down at his watch again. There were only a few minutes before the rift would disappear. It was already starting to weaken. Beside him, Hermione ignored the others as they took the Death Eaters into custody. Instead, she just watched the rift, waiting for Harry to return.
"He'll come back," Ron assured her.
"I know," Hermione said, although she didn't sound particularly confident in her answer.
Ron had to admit that he was worried. What would happen if Harry got stuck in the past? Would time itself change as Harry's presence affected it?
Just then, something came flying through the rift, landing at Hermione's feet. Ron looked down at it.
It was a severed head.
"Merlin!" Ron recoiled as he realized what it was. Hermione, however, kneeled down and picked it up.
"It's him."
"What?" Ron asked.
"It's Voldemort."
"Yes, it is."
Ron and Hermione both looked up to see Harry, covered in sweat and dust and blood, but on the proper side of the rift. Immediately, they raced towards him, wrapping their arms around him.
Harry appreciated their reaction, but he couldn't help but compare their embrace to the one that he had just shared with his parents moments earlier. It was all too much for him. In a rage, he broke away from Ron and Hermione and snapped his wand towards the device, destroying it in a single blow, before he collapsed to the ground.
Ron and Hermione immediately sank to the floor next to him.
"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione asked.
"Nothing's wrong," Harry lied. "It's done. He's dead."
"You know that I can tell when you're lying, right?"
Of course she did. She could read him like a book. It was a skill that Harry both hated and loved.
"I saw them."
Surprisingly, it was Ron that figured out what Harry meant first.
"Your parents?" Ron asked.
Harry nodded. "Voldemort was in the church, waiting for his younger self to appear. We fought, I won. But then, they showed up."
"Wait, you spoke to them?"
"Don't worry. I wipe their memories," Harry said. "I told them...enough. I so desperately wanted to save them, but they told me...they told me to wipe their memories instead. I did and then I stood by and watched them die."
"You know that changing time isn't natural," Hermione stated. "You have no idea what would happen if you did. Plus, you're alive now. I imagine that your parents would give their lives to ensure that."
Harry chuckled. "That's exactly what Mom said."