Restart with a Headstart
Harry James potter died at 17. An ‘adult’ by Wizarding standards, however if you were to ask him, the title felt… premature. Especially when he looked at his tiny, pink, squirming hands. How strange. He supposed it was strange he had hands at all considering he was dead.
He felt his face scrunch unhappily as a torrent of sound surrounded him. Everything was too dark, or maybe he'd just closed his eyes. He wasn’t quite sure. He tried to open them once again but nothing changed so he instead tried his limbs, only for them to ignore him completely. He’d think they didn’t exist at all if they weren’t trembling from the sudden cold.
Finally voice rang out, discernable amongst the nebulous noise, “Baby Number Two’s not crying, someone check him over while I deliver number three.”
He was convinced now, whatever this was, ‘strange’ was an understatement, however upon being placed onto warm skin that pulsed rhythmically with the beating of a heart, he found he didn’t much mind.
From then on time seemed to move inconsistently. Sometimes every minute would drag as he tried and failed to master his limbs or make any sound other than a gurgle, other times weeks flew by while he slumbered peacefully in the recesses of his mind barley aware of the world continuing to spin around him. A new world, so different than the one he’d known. Here James and Lily Potter had not one, but three children. He scarcely allowed himself to believe it at first but soon enough their existence was undeniable.
He’d always wondered what it would be like to have a brother. Always envied Ron his plethora of siblings. And now, by some miracle he had two, one older and one younger. How it had happened he didn’t know, it certainly wasn’t what he’d expected, when he’d watched that cold green light swell and encompass him. Nor when he’d boarded the bright white train in the ghostly vision of King’s Cross station. In any case he was here now, with his brothers and that was all that mattered. Harry didn’t think he’d ever before felt such a pure and unconditional love as he did for them. Their mere presence in his cott seemed to soothe his very soul, each gurgle, laugh or cry fuelling his very being. He’d begun to think he’d finally found his peace… until his little family got their first unexpected visitor.
Albus Dumbledore, after insisting on thoroughly checking the wards was invited in, despite the lack of forewarning to his coming. Lily had then encouraged him on to the families gaudy couch, a relic from Potter Mansion according to Harry’s father, and James was summoned to join them.
Harry was rather put out to when, during some inane ramblings his mother unceremoniously dropped him into the arms of headmaster but did little more than pout, due to the lingering respect he held for the man.
“Ha, he likes you!” Said James happily as he entered with the other two boys.
“Are you sure. He looks rather unhappy to me.” Dumbledore asked holding Harry up cautiously to get a better look at his face. At this Harry let out something between a snort and a chuckle. He’d never have imagined the man could look quite so out of depth in the face of a infant.
“You even got a laugh.” Lily agreed taking one of the other boys from James as he sat on the squishy orange armchair next to hers. “That’s an A class endorsement from Harry.”
“He won’t even let poor worm- er, Peter I mean, touch him.” Added James. “Screeches the whole house down.”
“So this is Harry?” Dumbledore asked with something akin to wonder holding Harry delicately against his chest who found silk of his robes a pleasantly soft. “I don’t get many opportunities to meet one so young.”
“Harry’s the middle one.” Said James happily, “This is Jamie he’s the oldest.” He continued holding the red haired boy on his lap up proudly as if showing off a trophy or something of the like. Harry chuckled again but it was completely drowned out by Jamie’s shrieks of joy. “And by far the easiest to please.”
“And this is Damion.” Added Lily as she gently rocked the sleeping dark haired child in her arms. “Our youngest, he’ll love you too. He copies everything Harry does.”
“Triplets? What wonderful a family you have.” Dumbledore said undeniable emotion colouring his voice.
The atmosphere of the room soured in a instant.
“What’s happened.” James asked quickly.
Dumbledore hesitated slightly prompting Lily to speak up, “Please Albus, we know you wouldn’t show up unannounced if it wasn’t important. Tell us.”
“Forgive an old man his weakness.“ Dumbledore replied regretfully, “To see you all so content, I hate to be the one to bear the bad news. But, needs must… I believe Voldemort is likely to target your family directly sometime in the near future. I’ve strengthened your wards enough that should he attack immediately they will hold for a day, but ideally you’ll all be out within the next couple of hours.” Harry felt like the breath had been stolen from his lungs as his little fists gripped, vice like, to the man’s robes. He hoped, prayed that somehow it would be different here. It already was! The fact he had brothers now proved that, so why couldn’t Voldemort be gone too?! Why couldn’t he finally be at peace? Didn’t he deserve it after fighting for so long?
“What…?” James stuttered, ashen faced, “Why… why now, we haven't done anything since before the boys where born!”
“Oh god James! oh god!” The words fell from Lilys lips like a plea.
“There was a prophecy, it spoke of a boy destined to defeat the dark lord, born at the end of July to parents who have thrice defied him.” Dumbledore said gently.
“And, and he thinks it could be one of ours?!” Lily asked desperately.
“You were seen with your bump, it wouldn’t be hard for him to estimate the due date. Even I didn’t know there were three, you did well keeping them secret and protected, but he be able to deduce there’s at least one.” Dumbledore explained.
“What about the Longbottoms? They were pregnant at the same time as us?” Asked James hurriedly.
“Yes.. it is possible the prophecy refers to…” Dumbledore started but was cut off by Lily.
“No, have they been warned?” She demanded quickly.
“Alister is there now.” Dumbledore assured.
And James let out a strained but relieved huff.
“So… we need to leave now?” Lily asked.
Dumbledore agreed, “Within the hour ideally, to somewhere under the fidelius, I don’t think there’s anything else strong enough to evade him. You’ll need a secret keeper…”
“Sirius.” James interjected firmly and Lily gave him a nod.
“A fine choice… but I’d be happy to do the honours if you change your mind.” Dumbledore added. Harry tried to agree clutching at the man and gurgling.
“Thank you Albus, that means a lot,” Lily replied gratefully, “but you’ve got enough to deal with and we know we can trust Sirius.”
No! No! No! Harry tried to yell, he knew all too well how this went! Sirius would idioticly suggest the traitor Wormtail and they’d be sold out.
“Oh, it’s okay!” Dumbledore tried to sooth him but Harry continued to shriek and yell. Lily quickly handed Damion to James and tried to take Harry back but he clung onto his headmaster with all his strength.
“He must be able to tell something’s wrong, poor boy,” Dumbledore muttered as Lily tried and failed to detach Harry from him. Across the room Damion began to echo Harry’s cries.
Harry managed to look straight into the man’s bright blue eyes and mentally begged, Please! Please make them choose you! Use legilamency on me please! They’re going to die. But there was no familiar twinkle, after all why would he think to use legilamency on a baby? The headmaster looked more likely to begin crying himself.
“I’m sorry Harry.” He said regretfully and Harry’s wails caught in his throat as despair well and truly hit him. It was all going to happen again. There was nothing he could do to stop it. He found himself unable to suck in a breath. His mother was being to panic but he still refused to let go. Until, finally as his vision blackened his control slipped and he was sent hurtling back in to the recesses of his mind. He watched from there like an observer as his little body took deep gulping breaths. Watched Dumbledore run his hand soothingly over his back and Lily fuss. He didn’t feel any of it.
They had been in hiding for at least a month when Harry finally regained control, not that he’d wanted to. Everything was far too real when he was at the helm. Too inevitable. Even so, he couldn't remain still. From then on he’d attempt to talk every day. He wouldn’t bother moving anything but his mouth, all his focus on being able to somehow warn his parents. That was except for when his brothers would roll their way over to him. Then he’d break his self imposed rules and hold their hands or attempt a hug. Damion loved hugs. He’d stop crying when he was tucked snuggly against harry. Jamie wasn’t as interested in them but he did love to try and climb so Harry would aid in holding him steady. Jamie would giggle gleefully and bounce whenever he was able to sit on Harry’s chest. The only part Harry didn’t find unbelievably endearing was having the wind repeatedly knocked out of him. But it was worth it to see his brother so happy.
He’d felt he was finally getting close to comprehensible speech by his first birthday, but then he got sick. He wasn’t even surprised when months work trickled away in a matter of hours. All the autonomy gained gone in an instant. Still he tried, but it made no difference. He could barely even gurgle as his parents fretted over him. They put him on his own for a while, but he’d hated being without his brothers, apparently Damion had felt the same. Despite being in separate rooms Harry would hear his yells and cries. It was only a couple of days before they were back together again. Jamie didn't come back. He was happy on his own room and at more of a risk of accidentally hurting Harry while he was so weak. Not that Harry would have minded some minor bumps but his parents were being especially protective.
His recovery was slow. Too slow, Jamie could shout ‘Mummy’ and ‘Daddy’ while Harry still gurgled. Even Damion would mutter ‘rere’ which their parents translated as ‘Harry’. It was unsurprising then when he heard his parents wondering if Jamie was the one the prophecy foretold.
He knew it was too late when he and Damion were left alone with Peter. His parents were never supposed to leave the house but no matter how he tried he couldn’t sense their magic. The time had come.
Next to him Damion began to cry and Harry felt his own tears falling from his face.
“Don’t cry kids, it’ll be over soon.” Peter muttered nervously, clutching the bars of their crib. “Stop bloody crying! I’ve saved your lives you ungrateful little brats! If you had any idea what I’ve risked in not telling the dark lord about you!”
Harry glared at him with utter disgust.
“Look the child of prophecy had to die, James and Lily too, theres no way the dark lord would let them live. They would die with or without my intervention. You two would die too if he knew you existed, he doesn’t like loose ends you see.” Peter muttered, pulling at his hair frantically. “I’ve got a friend in the states that’s gonna take you in. Hell it’s not like you’ll even remember this. Really I’m a hero, I’ve saved you both, yes… two lives saved… I’m a hero.”
Peter froze suddenly his eyes glued to his right arm. “He’s here.” He muttered scrambling out of the bedroom door unaware a tiny hand had managed to grasp the wand sticking out of his pocket.
Harry clenched the cold wood in his fist. Rage fuelled adrenaline scorching through his veins. Now or never.
“Enngoroorgnio.” The word was barely intelligible but the magic still ripped itself from him and the cott swelled allowing him to slip between the bars.
He fell to the floor hard but ignored the pain and crawled forwards. He was maddeningly slow but eventually he reached the door.
“All-oh-moooa.” This time the magic leaving his body felt like daggers exploding from his skin but the door still clicked open. He continued on, pulling himself forwards out into the hall.
The door to Jamies room was already open.
And to Harry’s horror, a familiar, deadly, high pitched voice rung through the silence. “So, you are the one destined to defeat me? Inconceivable. Goodbye… Jamie Potter.”
Voldemort was already in there. Harry was too late. He wouldn’t make it to the door. He needed to act now!
Shaking hands aimed the stolen wand at the corridor wall, and he prayed he somehow the blast wouldn’t hit Jamie.
“oomada Maiiima” the spell exploded the entire wall.
Wormtail had suffered a direct hit, there wasn’t much of him left. Jamie was mercifully alive but screaming, partially buried in flesh, blood and rubble. Harry’s vision swam as he fought desperately to remain conscious. He’d used too much magic. He’d pushed him self too far even before that last spell and now the once gentle warmth of his magical core was replaced with a giant, gaping, clawing chasm.
Voldemort emerged from the rubble with a roar insane eyes glued to Jamie’s battered form, wand raising towards the wailing boy. But Harry had nothing left. Nothing to pull from. No way to stop the pure horror of his brothers imminent death from unfolding before his very eyes.
When a tiny hand closed around Harry’s ankle he didn’t recognise his little brother, he only felt what he’d been so desperately searching for.
A source of magic.
“Avada kerdavra!”
Damion was screaming now. Harry was barely conscious. He felt like he’d been ripped in two. Had it worked? Had he killed Riddle? Were they somehow back in their cott? Much later Harry would suspect Damien’s magic had flared in a desperate effort to protect him as Harry ripped it away resulting their in accidental apparition back to somewhere he felt safe.
Finally, familiar voices sounded over the screams. Then he and Damion were pulled into Lilys warm arms. James and Dumbledore appeared a second later with a blessedly alive Jamie. Though, in his damaged state Harry could only catch snatches of conversation.
“Wormtail imperised us!”
“Broke free when he died?!”
“Traitor!”
“My poor boys!”
“Nooo, nooo!”
“Plan”
“Jamie”
“Child of prophecy”
“Peters really dead”
“Theres something wrong with you know who's body”
“He may return”
“Voldermort will come for Jamie again”
“He will never stop.”
“The other boys?”
Blues eyes, Legilamency, Dumbledore honing in on the memory of wormtails rambling.
“Doesn’t know about the other boys”
“They nearly died all of them”
“He’s not really gone. He's going to come for Jamie.”
“Then we can atleast hide Harry and Damion.”
“Another family? Not involved in the war.”
“They’d be safe.”
“All of us, Another country?”
“We can’t, You know Who will follow.”
“I… don’t sense any magic in them.”
“What…”
“Albus…. You think they’re Squibs?”
“Better”
“Safer with muggles”
“Tuny”
“They’d be safe there”
“Nearly lost them all!”
“Need… safe”
“If your going to do this it can’t be half way”
“Contact would negate everything.”
“Just want them safe”
“Tuney… differences… but …. Sister”
“Trust, safe”
How ironic.