"Where's Minerva?" asked Mad-eye Moody impatiently. "Absolutely no sense of punctuality..."
If there was one thing Minerva McGonagall was known for, it was her strictness and reliability. No one had expected her to run late like that; the Order meeting was already twenty minutes in, yet she was nowhere in sight. Soon enough, however, she appeared through the Floo Network as if on cue.
"Excuse my tardiness," she said briskly. "I stumbled across something... worrying. I do believe it would interest you, Mr Black." She handed Sirius a package, spiking his curiosity.
"What's this?" he asked, opening the box and peeking inside. He hadn't a clue what it was Minerva wanted to give him, but his interest was growing by the second. He pulled out a scroll from inside and unrolled it.
"Shall I read it aloud?" At Minerva's slight nod, he cleared his throat, her pale face and concerned eyes making him feel uneasy.
Dear members of the Order of the Phoenix,
This is 1995, right? If yes, please read this carefully. You know very well a war is on the verge of breaking out.
I write to you from 2039, when he is long since defeated, but with a great price. The Wizarding World is no longer what it used to be. We want it back. And we're making it your job to bring it back. So here's what you do: you read the books that are inside the package I sent. Carefully. Slowly. Think about their every word. Reflect on every wrong move, every mistake made in them.
Those books are the biography of one Mr Harrison C. J. Potter. They are the war from his point of view. So when you read them, make sure not to repeat the mistakes in them. Be careful. I trust you to change the future; please do not disappoint me.
I have enclosed a list of the people I have chosen to send to you. Good luck...
Sincerely,
S. A. L. B.
"Well, that was interesting," muttered Sirius. He refused to believe a word of it. It couldn't be true. It just wasn't possible. Curious, the young man turned to look at Remus Lupin for help.
Lupin only shrugged. This was definitely not the strangest thing to have happened. He was well aware of Hermione's preferred method of transportation through time. If the writer of the letter had managed to produce an item with a similar function but constructed to work with longer time periods, it wasn't very surprising. If Harry had managed to defeat Voldemort, then his story would surely be displayed for the public...
"Why don't you read the list?" he suggested. "The writer mentioned he'd take care of the transportation."
"All right," mumbled Sirius, glancing for the umpteenth time at his fellow members, who stood open-mouthed and still in shock. "Here I go..."
Harry Potter
The Weasley family
Gryffindor Quidditch Team
Sirius and Aries Black
The Tonks family
The Malfoy family
Severus Snape
Minerva McGonagall
Hermione Granger
Dean Thomas
Seamus Finnigan
Bellatrix Lestrange
Alastor Moody
Neville Longbottom
As each name was read aloud, the respective people appeared, reminding Sirius eerily of Voldemort's taboo in the first war. He hated this. The occupants of Grimmauld Place who were in other rooms suddenly crashed into the kitchen.
Unsurprisingly, the three Black sisters were the first to react. They pulled their wands and eyed each and every resident of the house before noticing that they were, for the first time in many years, reunited with their families. In their turn, everyone else unsheathed their wands and pointed them toward Bellatrix and Malfoy Sr.
Sirius sighed and effortlessly summoned every wand in the room simultaneously. He explained the current situation, much to Molly Weasley's ire. "I am not leaving my children with Death Eaters," she said, unwittingly pulling her children closer to her.
Sirius smiled softly. He knew Molly meant well. Having seven children certainly wasn't an easy job, and she was doing whatever she could. "I won't let any harm come to your family. As long as I am Lord Black, no magic will work in my estate unless I allow it."
"Wicked," mumbled Dean Thomas, seemingly unaware of the fact that he was in the presence of a number of Death Eaters and a supposed mass murderer.
Sirius grinned and inclined his head. "Thank you, lad. Now, are you all willing to be civilised and work with me, or am I going to have to use force?" He didn't like doing this at all. He was scared for the future. Not that he would ever let it show, of course, but it hurt knowing it was so bleak someone from the future had to send help.
Molly led her family to sit, motioning at her children to remain quiet. Even Fred and George had nothing to say. Andromeda and Bellatrix were standing at a small distance and staring at each other with wonder, hatred, longing and sorrow all in their eyes. It was like seeing two sides of a mirror. There was no difference between the two women, apart from Andromeda's slightly smaller stature and Bellatrix's eyes, which were heavy-lidded and violet in colour, instead of the grey which was typical for her family.
Narcissa was standing silently behind them, looking as if the last thing she wanted was to be noticed by her sisters. Unfortunately, Andromeda's gaze shifted to her and she stiffened. "Sisters," she said coldly, softly. "It's been a long time."
"Indeed," said Bellatrix. "Indeed..." She approached her sister slowly and took her hand in both of hers. "I'm sorry," she whispered so only Andromeda could hear her. "I'm so sorry, Meda... You know I had to do it... I had to, to keep the two of you safe. Every day they wanted revenge. Every day I told them I'd take care of it... They wanted you both dead, you and Sirius. I kept telling them I would be the one to kill you... And they believed me."
"I could protect myself from my own mother without you taking the Mark and murdering innocent people, Bellatrix," Andromeda said icily, sharply pulling her hand back.
Bellatrix closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, her gaze fell on Harry. Their eyes locked, and a memory quickly emerged in Harry's mind. A memory he had never thought of before...
The young redheaded woman handed her baby to the woman beside her and smiled. Despite her wild black hair, heavy-hooded violet eyes and Victorian Gothic attire, said woman looked far from intimidating. She took the child from her friend and set it on her lap, smiling gently. The young boy watched her with wide green eyes before fisting her black skirts and raising them to his open mouth, causing the woman to groan quietly through her smile and lightly run a ringed hand through his hair.
His mother gently pried the dress away from him and laughed softly. "You know... Your aunt Bella really loves you, Harry. Remember... she'll always protect you. Even if we can't..."
Harry was jerked back to reality by Sirius's polite cough. His eyes travelled back to Bellatrix. Don't be stupid, Potter, he thought. Mrs Weasley says she's a Death Eater; she's not the person she was then. He quickly averted his gaze and turned back to his godfather.
"We're not doing this," he said, remembering why they were gathered. "You have no right; it's my personal life!"
"Shockingly, Potter, it's not always about you," Snape sneered. "The writer did not send us this package because he thought you were oh so important. If you truly concern yourself with the fact that a handful of people might learn that you are not such a Golden Boy, after all, then you're a bigger weakling than I thought. Are you going to put your precious feelings above people's lives again, Potter? It certainly would not surprise me."
Harry made to reply, but Lupin placed a hand on his shoulder. "Please, Harry. You know he's wrong. We all do. Leave it be."
Harry nodded slightly and turned back to Sirius uncertainly. "Fine," he mumbled. "But I'm not reading any of it. And you can't give me hell for anything I do, all right? It's in the past."
"Deal," said Sirius. "Why don't we all sit? Right – look, Malfoy, I'm warning you now. If anything remotely weird or questionable happens, I will hang you upside down and disembowel you with a blunt, rusty knife. None of you have any magic here."
He reached into the box and pulled out a thin book. Its cover was black, but it read 1991-1992 in large, gold letters.
"I'll start," said Hermione, politely asking Sirius for the book.
He smiled at the young witch and handed her the biography, waiting for the start. Meanwhile, Harry was growing more uncomfortable by the second.
