Chapter 1

Now is the climax to the story

That gives the demons and angels purpose

They fly around while we are walking

And mold our emotions just to please them

May 2nd, 1998

Hermione Granger paced back and forth in front of Dumbledore's portrait, agitated. She was in pain and needed her potions and probably a healer, but she didn't want to do anything until she spoke with Dumbledore. After everything she and her friends had gone through, she deserved that. She deserved to make him answer for the things he'd done, even in death.

"Am I interrupting?"

Hermione spun around, her wand pointed at Snape. Her lips thinned as she recognized the man, but she didn't lower the wand. She didn't know what to think of him. "Yes, actually."

"Too bad," he told her, waving his hand at the door to lock it. She tensed, gripping her wand so tight that her knuckles turned white. "There are things you need to know, Granger. Your fight isn't over."

"If you're trying to threaten me-,"

"No," he assured her stiffly. He looked uncomfortable like he was unsure how to calm her. "This is a genuine warning… you're going to go to the past."

"I don't understand," Hermione hissed, glaring at her old teacher. He rolled his eyes at her.

"That's new."

"Okay, I'm leaving. I'm too tired to deal with your bullshit, Snape."

He put his hands up. "I mean exactly what I said," he told her in place of an apology, though if she'd cared, she'd have seen it in his eyes. Stil, she definitely didn't care. Not that day.

"But it's not possible," she denied, shaking her head, exhausted. "The only way is a Time Turner, and those were destroyed when-,"

"When you and your friends stampeded the ministry," he finished for her in a huff. She glared darkly.

"Careful. It's been a long day. I haven't even seen anyone yet for my injuries."

"You don't look injured."

Hermione threw her hands in the air. "That's it, I'm leaving."

He shot her an alarmed look, and she began to realize that he was serious. "No! No. Why don't I just tell you what I know?"

"That would be fine."

"I met Alexia Potter when shopping for my first year of Hogwarts," he explained slowly, obviously uncomfortable with sharing such private information. "She was kind to me and was my first friend, aside from… Lily. Then, when we were parting ways, Mother came across us. She insulted Alexia and her family and shoved her when walking past. I helped Alexia up, but her twin brother James came and thought I had shoved her. He yelled and blamed me. She tried to explain, but she'd not yet gotten under his skin the way she would in years to come. We became rivals that day.

"She gained some other friends and fell in with her brother and his crowd. She was the reason Lily and I stayed friends for so long – she always promised that I was a good man. We never stopped being friends, even when Lily… did. One day, in 1979, she stopped by my home, crying. She explained that she was from 1998 and that she had to go back soon. She told me that I would be the one to send her back and tell her this story, or what little of it I am willing to share.

"Alexia told me that she would be here, on the night of the final battle, to speak with Dumbledore. She said that I would give her the news instead."

"And you think I am Alexia Potter," Hermione said with an eye roll. "This is all ridiculous."

In response, he threw a softly glowing orb at her and, out of instinct, she caught it. When she realized her mistake, she tried to put it down, but it was practically glued to her hand as it heated up, nearly burning her.

"Fuck, Snape, I'm going to kill you for this," she snapped as the orb brightened into a white light. It felt like it was readying itself for something, and the worry made her sick.

"I look forward to it," he gave her a smile, possibly the first smile he'd ever given her, and watched as the orb blew up, glass flying into her arms and chest and neck before she was thrown back in time painfully.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

May 2nd, 1971

Albus Dumbledore was not a paranoid man. He'd always kept careful wards around the school, his office, his chambers, everything. He'd always made sure to see each student at least once during their time at Hogwarts, and he made sure to know all of their names – something that was not easy. So, when a nineteen-year-old girl appeared in front of the wall of portraits, unconscious, Dumbledore felt he was right to prod through her mind before waking her. The only issue was, she had defenses that, surprisingly, rivaled his own.

With a defeated sigh, he put a protective ward around himself and woke the poor girl. Before even opening her eyes, she had her wand in hand and pointed at him. She peeked an eye open and screeched in shock, pulling herself tightly against the wall and keeping her wand trained on him. He raised an eyebrow and she only seemed more upset.

"Pr- Professor…," she trailed off as a confused mixture of emotion filled her eyes. He glanced down at her injuries and sighed when he saw glass buried into her arms, stomach, and neck, and her fist was clenched around something that glowed through the cracks of her fingers. He had a sinking feeling that he knew what it was. "This isn't possible."

"I'm afraid you'll find that the impossible is most probable," he told her solemnly. She made a move to stand and he stared in shock when she didn't wince in pain. She slowly pulled herself to her feet and glanced around the room, though neither hand wavered in its position.

"Fuck," she cursed. He repressed the need to tell her not to swear as she turned to look at him again. "What year is this?"

"It is 1971," he told her calmly. His suspicion of how this battered girl got there grew with those words.

"Shit," she muttered angrily.

"I apologize for interrupting, but I'm afraid I must wonder how you've come to… be here," he tried, sighing inwardly at his own words.

"Ah," she shrugged. "A future headmaster."

"My successor?" He asked curiously. She snorted.

"Something like that," she told him, and he did not miss the bitter tone. "Right. I'm Her- oh, should I even share my name?"

"I think so," he told her with a forced kind smile.

"Well, I'm Hermione Granger," she offered. She seemed to be debating something, but he interrupted her when he saw blood dripping from her leg.

"Well, Miss Granger, perhaps we should fix you up while you explain how you came to be here?"

"I guess," she shrugged as if it didn't really bother her. He grew worried that this young girl had found a reason to care so little about such wounds, and he knew only one way to find a reason. He pushed the thought aside and ushered her over to a large chair, thankful that she seemed to trust him immediately, even if she was somewhat uneasy.

"Please open your hand," he requested gently. She blinked up at him as she realized she had been clenching her fist. With what seemed like a great effort, she opened her hand for him and let him work on cleaning and healing it.

"I'm not sure how much I should tell you," she admitted. "I'd rather you not change the future upon learning its contents."

"I would never," he told her, offended. He gently plucked some glass from her skin and siphoned off the blood. "The future cannot be changed, Miss Granger. What will happen for me has already happened for you – time is not so weak that it can be changed. It is firm and unwavering. You coming here has only happened because it already did."

"That's… interesting," she commented, flinching for the first time when he reached to heal her arm. She shook her head at him and he moved on for the moment, working on her stomach next instead. "In my third year, I was granted a Time-Turner so I could take all the classes I could. At the end of the year… some things happened, and my best friend – brother, really – and I used it to save his godfather's life and the life of a hippogriff."

"I see," Dumbledore said slowly. He moved to her leg and quickly cleaned and healed the cut. "So, you only saved them because you'd already done it, then."

"So, you're saying I can tell you… things?" she asked, obviously unsure.

"Only enough to ensure you are no threat and only what you are comfortable with," he offered kindly. Everything he could see had been healed, but he was tired from it. There had been a lot. He cast a few diagnostic spells and waited in horror as the parchment in front of him filled itself out, growing longer when it ran out of room.

"Okay," she nodded, ignoring the parchment. "Well, I am Hermione Granger, and you were my headmaster for my entire school education."

"That's wonderful," he said with a tight smile, suddenly concerned over how a student of his had gotten so grievously injured. He also had to wonder how she was even functioning after being submitted to such torture so recently.

"Yes, well… when you died," she winced at the words, and Dumbledore couldn't help but agree. "My two friends and I had to go on the run. The war that is brewing today had begun again, and we were the number one, two, and three targets. There were… things we had to do in order to end the war. Anyway, when we left Hogwarts, a man was put in charge of the school. He was, apparently, very loyal to you."

"Good man," Dumbledore commented. She obviously had mixed feelings over the man, and as much as he wanted to know everything, he also refused to interrupt if he could avoid it.

"Yes," Hermione said, but he didn't miss the way she glared at her hands. "He was a spy. He was forced to let Voldemort and the Death Eaters into the school."

"You do not fear his name?" Dumbledore asked in surprise. People were afraid to say the name, even if he hadn't declared war yet. He was known but not the terrifying man they'd know in a few years.

"Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself," she told him with an eye roll.

"Who said that?" He wondered.

"You," she laughed. He laughed along with her, though softer.

"I believe I shall credit us both for that quote, as I've never said it before," he informed her. She shrugged as if it didn't matter and moved on.

"So they were in the school. When we… after…" she sucked in a deep breath and glared at her forearm. "After a nasty incident, we found our way back to the school to finish our job. It was awful, Professor. I- I don't know how the students survived."

"I see," he hummed, and she knew he'd already figured out what had happened to her. She was doing her best to avoid looking at the parchment next to her, but she definitely knew it was there and that it was long.

"It didn't take long for the battle to begin," she sighed sadly. "Younger students were taken to safety, but anyone old enough and willing to fight did so. The… The Light arrived and fought as well, but… fuck, so many of us died."

"That is war," he told her sadly. He wasn't sure how someone could look so stubbornly okay and completely broken at the same time. It was like she was warring with herself, and neither side was winning.

"Yeah," she shuddered. "My best friend, the one that's like a brother… I thought he was dead. It was the worst few minutes of my life. He… he told me that he did die, but something caused him to come back. I'm not sure I believe that but… well, he was… I think something inside of him died – something that had been placed inside of him. I don't know. We didn't get long to talk after the battle was over. It was… I'm… I don't…" She broke off, gasping to regain control of her breathing, which had become ragged. Dumbledore rose from his chair next to her and found a bottle of calming drought. He handed it to her and she downed it greedily. Within a few agonizing minutes, she was calm enough to speak again.

"Awful things happened to all of us," she said, a faraway look in her eyes. "Friends died, family died, lovers died. I watched as my best friend's ex-girlfriend, my old roommate, was mauled by Greyback. I- well, the war wasn't kind to me, either."

Dumbledore pursed his lips, knowing just how much of an understatement that was. He was sure that he couldn't heal the rest of her without Poppy, but he was equally sure that this was the only time she'd open up the way she was. She wasn't in danger of dying, so he decided to allow her to talk for now.

"After we won," Dumbledore let himself smile at those words. "I spent a little while speaking with my friends before… before going back here to talk to you."

"Oh?"

"I had some… questions for you. I wanted to know why you did some of the things you did," she told him, looking away. He thought he saw a flash of anger, but he couldn't be sure. "But your portrait was asleep. Instead, the man that came after you… he found me there.

"He told me that he'd met me when I was… shopping for first year at Hogwarts. That we became friends and… well, that I was here. He threw this orb thing at me and I caught it on accident. That's when I came here," she finished, looking up at him in worry. He hummed quietly as he thought. He settled on a decision easily.

"Well, then it seems you will be returning to Hogwarts," he told her with fake cheer. She frowned at him.

"Sir, I'm nineteen."

"Yes. I have a solution for that, however," he told her with a real smile. He'd only used the potion once before, and he had a strange love for it. "We'll simply de-age you."

"Simply what now?" She asked him, eyes sharp. He fought the urge to smirk.

"It's a simple potion that will de-age you to a certain age. I think eleven will do this time."

"But- but, I don't have a family or money with me- er, I do, but it's not enough for this," she told him, nervous for the first time since she'd arrived.

"Ah, yes. Did the man not mention anyone?" He asked her. She shrugged helplessly, frowning still.

"James Potter and his family. I guess I was his twin," she told him. He did his best not to grin. That was perfect.

"Wonderful! Do you know the Potters in your time?"

"Do I- er, yeah, I mean… one was my best friend, but-,"

"Great! I'll speak with Charlus and Dorea while you're in the infirmary healing up and taking the potion," he told her in a tone that invited no argument.

"Healing? Didn't you just heal me?" She asked. He looked at her in sadness, his stomach clenching at what he'd found.

"There are things that… I would assume you would wish a woman to heal, and things that I simply cannot heal," he told her. He saw her stiffen and curl in on herself as she seemed to understand.

"I- there are parts I don't remember clearly," she told him. He nodded gravely and stood, offering his arm to help her. She took it gratefully and they made their way through the large office.

"Either way, I would rather Poppy give you the potion. It will be uncomfortable for you, and she will… set the appropriate glamours if they are needed," Dumbledore explained as they walked through the halls. She was limping still and he let her lean on him slightly to alleviate the pain.

It wouldn't normally have taken long to get to the infirmary – it was a five-minute walk from his office – but they had to dodge students roaming the halls as they pushed their luck with the curfew. It was almost nine pm, and there were still some students scurrying about to get back to their common rooms before detentions could be handed out.

When they reached the infirmary, Dumbledore placed Hermione on the bed and made his way to Poppy's office. He knocked on the door and gave the witch a sad smile when she opened. "Hello, Poppy."

"Headmaster," she nodded with a frown. "What's wrong?"

"There is a young woman here who has… recently seen battle. She is in need of healing and will need to be de-aged by eight years and have some glamours placed on whatever she like," he told her nervously, handing her the paper with her injuries. It had crossed off the ones he'd already healed for her, and the witch gasped in horror at the words.

"I'll do all I can," she promised, pulling her wand out. He stepped out of the way as she scurried over to Hermione to heal her.

"I'll go make my calls," he told the young witch. "I'll come back when I'm done."

"Thank you, Professor," the girl said nervously. "It's… it's good to see you."

He nodded at her and left the room to call Charlus and Dorea. They would need to know everything to take her in, but he knew they would.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

"Did he already tell you your injuries?" Poppy asked. Hermione shrugged at her.

"He doesn't need to. None of it will shock me."

"Still, you-,"

"And I don't want to know. There are things I do and don't remember, and it's all plenty awful. I don't need more to have nightmares about," she said firmly. Poppy watched her warily but nodded and continued to heal the poor girl.

It all took about a half hour before the woman sat back and wiped the sweat from her brow. The young girl smiled at her kindly as she summoned the potion and sat it on the tray in between them. "You will need to drink all of it to de-age eight years," Poppy informed her.

"Right," the girl scrunched up her nose.

"It tastes like goblin piss," Poppy muttered. The girl's eyes flashed with something before she spoke softly, almost as if speaking to a ghost.

"Have a lot of experience with goblin piss?" She asked. The odd look on her face made the mediwitch ignore the words and pour the potion. She handed the glass over and the girl took it with a grimace but downed it immediately. She blanched at the taste but swallowed.

The effect was almost instantaneous. Her skin shimmered silver and she felt a sickening crunch in her legs as they shrunk. She managed to focus on the constant of pain while it happened, which made it easier to handle. She made no sound as she shrunk down into her eleven-year-old self, and Poppy stared on in wonder.

"Why do I still have my scars?" She shrieked. Poppy jumped at the noise.

"I- well, if they were inflicted by a dark curse, or by a cursed object-,"

"Of course," the girl sighed. "Of course."

"I can glamour them," the woman offered immediately. The girl smiled up at her sadly.

"That would be lovely. Thank you."

"Of course," Poppy said, setting to work immediately. After a few minutes, the girl frowned.

"My teeth."

"Hm?"

"My teeth are back to what they used to be," she explained.

"Would you like me to glamour them as well?"

"Maybe you could just fix them?" She wondered. The witch nodded and set to work, speaking as she did.

"I'll be giving you potions for the pain. Long exposure to the Cruciatus is hard to heal. Only persistence and patience can help you fully recover, not to mention safety from the curse itself. If you run into it again, it'll take longer."

"I thought that you weren't supposed to take pain potion more than five times a week," Hermione frowned nervously. She'd been in constant pain since Malfoy Manor but hadn't been able to do much for it.

"You're not," the woman agreed. "There are special potions for this. A pain reliever, a muscle relaxer, and I'll be supplying you with a good amount of calming draught as well."

"I didn't… I didn't know," Hermione breathed as Madame Pomfrey summoned the potions and dropped them into a small box that was charmed to be bigger on the inside.

"But you have to take all of the potions exactly when you're meant to," Madame Pomfrey insisted. "Or your shaking and pain will return, and it'll take a couple of doses to get rid of them again."

"How long do I have to take it for?"

The woman gave her a sympathetic smile that she absolutely hated. "At least four years with absolutely not interruptions, my dear. Longer if there are any. I'm sorry."

"Me too."

OoOoOoOoOoOo

"How do you always find yourself in these situations?" Dorea laughed when Dumbledore finished his story. The man offered her a dry smile.

"That is the question."

"So, you want us to take her in?" Charlus asked though he knew the answer.

"Yes," Dumbledore answered. "She said that she was referred to as James's twin, Alexia."

"I always wanted a little girl," Dorea informed them as if the decision was made. One pointed look at Charlus and Dumbledore realized that it was.

"We'll take good care of her," Charlus promised.

"Thank you," Dumbledore said, relieved. "Now, I should make my way back to check on her. Shall I bring her over once she's all healed and glamoured?"

"That sounds perfect," Dorea told him. "We'll fill James in while you're gone."

"Wonderful," Dumbledore smiled as he stood. "We'll see you in a bit."

OoOoOoOoOoOo

"James," Charlus called. A few moments later, his son stomped down the stairs and through the manor, arriving in the sitting room. He grinned at his parents as he sat between them. Dorea looked down at him seriously and he gulped, going through a list of his recent actions and wondering what she could've found out about.

"You're not in trouble," she rolled her eyes. "But we've got some important news."

"You're going to have a sister," Charlus blurted. Dorea slapped his arm as James looked at his parents in horror for a moment before staring at his mother's stomach in disgust.

"You-you're… mum, ew!"

"Hm?" She snorted at him, laughter in her eyes. "No, I'm not pregnant."

"What?" He asked, thoroughly confused.

"We're… there's a girl in danger and in need of a home," Charlus told him. "She's going to be introduced to the world as your twin sister. She's your age."

"Really?" James grinned, excited now. He'd always wanted a sibling, but he'd never gotten one. Now he would have a twin.

"Yes," Dorea smiled kindly. "Her name is Alexia."

"Cool," the boy commented happily, nearly bouncing on his feet in excitement.

"James, there's something you need to understand," Charlus said seriously. "She's been hurt very badly. She was healed, but she might not be healed inside. She's going to need patience and kindness and love. Can you do that?"

"Yeah," he shrugged.

"This is serious, James," Charlus said. "She could be very sad, and she probably will be, but she's also probably very defensive. She needs someone to take care of her if she's not okay. Can you do that?"

"Yes," James said, immediately feeling protective of her. If she couldn't take care of herself, he would do it.

"It's your job to take care of her, especially while you're both at Hogwarts," his mother told him. He nodded seriously, beginning to understand what they were saying.

"I'll take care of her," he swore. "I promise I'll always take care of her."

OoOoOoOoOoOo

"You… want my wand?" She asked, gripping the object in question tightly, as if ready to fight. It was an odd look on a kid, which only frustrated her further.

"Yes," Dumbledore told her sadly. "This is the wand of Hermione Granger."

"And?"

"You are Alexia Potter now," he reminded her. She blinked.

"Oh… please keep it safe. I want it back when I… go back."

"I will leave it in my office."

"Thank you."

"Come," he said softly, leading her toward the floo after taking the wand from her. She pushed her hair – now black and long, having been given a permanent potion to change it – behind her ears as she followed him. He opened the floo and ushered her in, giving her the address. She grabbed the powder and threw it down, yelling "Potter Manor!"

She steadied herself before she could fall, still feeling awkward in her eleven-year-old frame. She dusted off the robes she'd been given by Poppy and looked around. The room was large. It had multiple chairs scattered about and there was a coffee table in the center of the room. She stepped out of the fireplace and froze as she heard someone running toward the room. She reached for her wand and cursed when she couldn't find it.

"Mum doesn't like swearing," a voice called, amused. She huffed indignantly.

"I didn't mean to," she told him, looking up, her breath catching at the sight. She was shocked to find a young Harry standing in front of her. She bit her lip. No, not Harry. Just… Harry's dead father. He smirked at her and walked over, looking her up and down.

"You do look a lot like me," he offered. She raised an eyebrow.

"Magic," she explained, earning an amused snort.

"I'm James," he told her.

"I know."

"You're Alexia."

"Apparently," she muttered.

"We're twins," he tried. She looked up at him again.

"So I've heard."

Before either could say any more, the fireplace roared to life and James pulled her away as the green flames jumped up. She did her best not to flinch at the contact, but he seemed to notice because he immediately let go as soon as she was out of the way.

"Ah, hello Mister Potter!" Dumbledore grinned. "I see you've met your new sister."

"She swore," he laughed. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at Hermione – no, Alexia – and she just shrugged at him.

"There you are!" Dorea called, sweeping into the room. Alexia's breath caught at the sight of the Lady of the House. She couldn't tell what it was, but something about the woman nagged at her heart, soul, and magic. She realized she'd felt the same with James, but had been distracted by thinking he was Harry. "I wasn't sure when you'd be back."

Alexia figured she'd actually wanted the new siblings to have a moment together, but said nothing. Dumbledore simply continued to grin. "She's all fixed up now. I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got some things to attend to if we want the new Miss Potter to be officially recognized in the community."

"Thank you, Albus," Dorea said as the man nodded, winked at Alexia, and left through the floo again. Alexia felt herself breathe out nervously. She instinctively trusted the Potters. She wanted to attribute that to Harry being a brother to her, but this felt… different.

"It's wonderful to meet you," Dorea said sweetly. "I'm Dorea, but you may want to just call me mum."

"I- oh," her chest tightened painfully as she suddenly remembered her own parents, the Grangers. She'd not been on good terms with them for a while because of her insistence on going back to the wizarding world, even under threat of war, but they were her family and she loved them. She wondered if they were happy in Australia. "I'm… Alexia."

"We know," James told her. She was shocked by how gentle he was being compared to when he walked in. "Wanna go meet Dad, or do you wanna eat?"

"I- um, I'd like to meet him. I'm not hungry," she added. Dorea gave her a kind smile and turned on her heel, walking from the room. She looked at James with wide eyes but he just offered her his arm. She took it warily and they walked down the hall – a very long hall, at that – and into Charlus's study.

The man smiled at her and she felt that same breathtaking feeling flutter around in her heart and magic and her soul. It was stronger this time, and she realized that it was because they were all in the same room. She felt her breathing quicken as she looked around at them and knew a panic attack was coming, but James squeezed her arm gently before it hit and she was pulled back to reality.

"I'm so glad to meet you," Charlus told her, standing and walking to her. She let him give her a gentle hug before he pulled back. "I think you'll be quite a blessing to us."

She paused in confusion. "You… you do?"

"Yes," Dorea breathed. The woman didn't offer any explanation, so Hermione – no, Alexia – just nodded shortly before a thought popped into her head and she put a hand over her forearm, a habit she imagined would take a while to get rid of.

"I'm a mu- a muggleborn," she informed them. "I don't know nearly as much about Pureblood society as I'd like."

"Well, that's fine. We'll teach you what you need to know before fall, but we don't practice most of it," Charlus informed her.

"Okay," she gave a sigh of relief.

"Now, there will be plenty of time to get to know each other tomorrow, but you look exhausted," Dorea said. Alexia blushed as she realized it was probably true. She'd spent two days fighting for her life and the lives of everyone she loved, and then was forced into… whatever this was. She was bone tired, and she would probably do anything for some sleep. "James, why don't you show her to her room?"

"Sure!" The boy said excitedly. She smiled softly at him and said goodnight to her new parents. James took her arm again and led her out of the study. They walked in silence until James seemed to burst with excitement.

"Your room is right across the hall from mine," he told her happily.

"That's nice," she said absently, trying to keep track of where they were going in her head.

"I'm gonna call you Lex," he said. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"I hate nicknames."

"That's too bad," he laughed.

"Fine, but only if I get to call you Jamie," she retorted. He frowned and thought about it before shrugging.

"That's fine. Mum and Dad only call me James or sometimes monkey."

"Monkey?" Alexia laughed. He stuck his tongue out at her and changed the subject.

"We've got five months to get to know each other," he commented. "And then it's Hogwarts."

"Oh," her eyes widened as it really sunk in that she was going to have to go back. She'd have to see where Lavender had her throat torn out, or where Percy had been crushed by a wall. She'd have to walk past the room where she'd fought Bellatrix and not throw up, and she would have to see Myrtle's bathroom and not cringe at the memory of not only killing a Horcrux but of the Basilisk, which was technically still alive right then. She would have to walk in the Great Hall where she had seen the people she'd come to know and love lying dead, unmoving, their blood soaking into the stone beneath them. She would have to walk on the grounds where her friends fell in front of her. She would have to walk by the place that Snape had nearly died. She would have to pass the clearing in the woods where Harry had died and stand in the courtyard where his body had been held by Hagrid. She'd have to remember Harry. She'd have to remember them all. She would remember the Weasleys who had lost Percy, who had just joined his family again that night. She would remember Harry, who had nearly lost Remus in that battle, the last connection he had to his father, the man… no, the boy she was walking with at that moment, and she wasn't sure she could do it. Too much had happened there. Too many had died.

She wasn't sure she could do it.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

It was a truly terrifying moment when Alexia had begun shaking next to him. He'd turned to ask if she was alright, and she had begun crying. He tried to comfort her and ask her what was wrong, but she couldn't seem to see or hear him. He was scared and worried, so he did what any rational wizard would do.

He called for his mum.

Dorea had made it to them in a flash and had taken the sobbing girl into her arms and moved into her new bedroom. She left the door open, which James took as an invitation in, and moved to set her on the bed. It had taken a long time to calm her down, and by the time James's new twin had calmed, she looked every bit as broken as his parents had warned him she might be.

Dorea had left him with the orders to spend the night in his sister's room, but he'd planned on sneaking in after his mother had left, anyway. As soon as Dorea closed the door, Alexia glanced at him sadly, and he felt his heart constrict. It was his fault she'd freaked out, he knew that much.

"Don't be ridiculous," she muttered. He blinked at her.

"What?"

"It's not your fault," she explained with a sigh. "Jamie, do you know what PTSD is?"

"No," he replied, frowning. She leaned back in the large bed, throwing the covers over her small self. He hesitated but crawled in next to her, and she immediately rested her head on his shoulder.

"It is post-traumatic stress disorder," she told him. "It means that someone experiences something traumatic and the brain is… I guess damaged by the trauma. Say your friends are killed in front of you. That could cause PTSD."

"That's horrible," he said with wide eyes. She nodded gravely.

"I… saw some really bad stuff. Things that kids should never see."

"Like your friend being killed in front of you?"

"And more," she agreed. "Anyway, your brain remembers this trauma, and it sets certain triggers to avoid encountering said trauma again."

"I don't understand."

"Well, say you saw your friend die in Hogwarts," she offered. "A mention of Hogwarts or being there could set you off. Your brain would be warning you that there is danger where there is none, just because it recognized something."

"Okay," James said slowly. It was beginning to make sense. "So something… triggered you, and that's why that happened?"

"Yeah, I guess so," she shrugged. "I already- oh Merlin…"

"What?"

"I just… I have these nightmares when I sleep…," she winced and he frowned. "That's another part of PTSD. Sometimes you… relive it in your dreams."

"Well, I'm here," James said firmly. "So tell your brain I'll protect you."

"That's not how-,"

"Always protect you," he interrupted, meeting her eyes. She closed her mouth and nodded. He seemed so sure that she couldn't help but believe him.

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