So, Ginny Weasley?
December 29th, 1980
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
James Fleamont Potter was a man of many verbose words, most of the time, but it felt like he’d been permanently stunned stupid over the last couple of days. Horcruxes, Dursley’s, daughter-in-law, grandchildren. Those words had bounced around his head in a most aggressive manor since the kids had appeared in the middle of the street and their conversation yesterday morning. Last night, Lily had cried herself to sleep in his arms because there was only one logical conclusion that they could draw from what they’d noticed so far; that Lily, James, Peter, Remus and Sirius were all dead. It explained why Harry had grown up with the Dursley’s…but Ginny clearly knew Padfoot and Remus had a bloody son that was a metamorph.
While it was clear that they were all dead, it wasn’t clear when or how they had died. And that absolutely terrified him to no end.
Despite the fear that had a chokehold on his heart, he really did want to get to know his son and grandkids. Even though he knew he couldn’t retain his memories of this, and he realized both copies of his son wouldn’t either, he could at least give his grandkids memories that they could share with the future version of their father. A person whom had survived having a horcrux remove, something Sirius had told him last night, when he couldn’t sleep, should be impossible. The thing is, he didn’t know how to approach them.
While he was lost in his own thoughts, he saw the 12 year old Harry walk up to his 17 year old self and heard, “Can I talk to you for a moment?” Now this, this caught his interest. Prongs had managed to boost the 12 year old’s version of the invisibility cloak which allowed him to slip it over his head and quietly followed behind the two older copies of his son.
“What did you wanna talk about?” The 17 year old leaned up against the wall as his eyes swept the room, his eyes had lingered on where James stood for an uncomfortable amount of time.
“I-I just…how did yo-…” The older Harry walked over to his younger self and gently squeezed his shoulder. Apparently, that was just he comfort that was needed, “So, Ginny Weasley?” It took a few seconds for Prongs to get what was asked, but the older Harry just grinned at his younger self; that smile made him look like the teenager he actually was.
“Yeah, Ginny Weasley.”
“But she sticks her elbow in butter dishes and can’t speak in front of you.”
“Hate to tell you this mate, but you’ll be the same way around her in your sixth year.”
“You stuck your elbow in a butterdish…”
“And she’s never gonna let you live it down mate.” Everyone’s head snapped around to see the 17 year old Ron enter the room with a small smile on his face; the younger Ron is right on his heels. This caused the younger Harry to blush.
“What can I do for you Ron?”
“Hermione just wanted to make sure you weren’t doing anything to make a mess of things.” Harry raised an eyebrow at him before he nodded.
“We’ll we’re not, so you can go back to your future wife Ron.” A splutter is all he gets in response before both Ron’s turn and hustle back into the guest chambers. Both Harry’s look at each other before they broke out into laughter.
“What seems to be so amusing, Messers. Potter?” That stern Scottish accent was well known to all three of the Potter men in the corridor and brought a smile to Prongs face. But it slid off as soon as he noticed the crowd that followed in Minerva’s footsteps. The Weasley family was easily identifiable, so was the Tonks family, but the family of clearly overwhelmed brunettes with a toddler in toe was one that he didn’t recognize.
“We were teasing Mr. Weasley about his future, professor.” For the first time in Harry's memory, Minerva McGonagall’s face broke into a very real grin.
“A future his parents would no doubt be interested in, I’m sure.” Prongs can actually hear the humor in her voice at this point.
“No doubt,” The older Harry smiles at both Weasley parents – their names are Molly and Arnold, right? No wait…Arthur; “It’s a future they can learn all about right through that door.” He points with his left arm towards the chambers they’ve stayed in and a flash of gold on Harry’s wrist catches Prongs’ attention; he’s not the only one who noticed it tho.
“That was my brother Fabian’s wristwatch,” Molly stares at Harry with curiosity and grief. “How did you get it?”
“You gave it to me for my 17th birthday, Mrs. Weasley.” And that simple sentence ripped James’ heart in two. Shortly after Harry had been born, he’d gone to the Potter family vault and picked out the exact wristwatch he wanted to give Harry for his 17th. The fact that Harry had on Fabian Prewett’s and not Charules Potter’s wristwatch did not bode very well for his family’s future.
Prongs was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice when the Tonks and Weasley families went into the chambers – after an emotional hug between Molly and Harry – or when the older man sent his younger self into the chamber before he held up the brunette family. When the door swung open again he sees Ron holding up Hermione as they approach the family. And that’s when it clicks, this is her family…her parents and her. While he understands how it could be to introduce muggles to magic for the first time when they are in danger; the look on her face says far more than that.
He does manage to catch the moment when Harry called Hermione the sister he’s never had and the absolutely flabbergasted look on Ron’s face. The discussion about how anyone associated with Harry is in grave danger which mean’s Hermione and her family was too much; James felt his knees give out as he sank to the floor with his back against the wall. Fortunately, no one seemed to hear him fall as he heard the next phrase out of his baby boy’s mouth.
“In the future, Hermione took some drastic measures to ensure your safety.” He watched horrified as Hermione sank to the ground and sobbed into Ron’s arms, she hadn’t said much to her parents yet. Now it all made a horrific amount of sense.
“W-w-what measures did she take?” This was Hermione’s dad.
“I can’t say too much without potentially damaging the timeline even more,” Harry’s voice is hoarse. “I promise Mr. Granger…as soon as we have more information from our future selves on whether or not this is damaging the timeline beyond repair, I can give you more information.”
That was a promise that James fully intended to hold his son to.