disclaimer: I do not own the wonderful Harry Potter books, or the not-as-good-in-my-opinion movies. I wish that I did, but... oh well.


Chapter 2

Harry, age 21

"She said witch or wizard!" little Harry yelled suddenly, and looked at Prongs expectantly. "But-but there's no such thing, is there?"

Harry looked at his younger counterpart, dumbfounded. How could he possibly explain magic to him, and in a bus with other people on it as well?

"Well," Harry said, "That's where you're wrong. You see," he paused dramatically, "there are people with magic. Witches and wizards... I'm one, and so are you."

"What?"

Harry sighed.

"You have absolutely no idea of the world that you came from, and I was dense enough not to tell you sooner. But someone will have to tell you sooner or later, and it might as well be me. Let me see how I can explain..." Harry trailed off, looking at the eager and befuddled boy in front of him.

"You have a gift, Harry. You have a power, and can make things happen. Do you remember your cousin's fifth birthday, when you went to Mrs. Figg's?"

"Yes?" answered the six year old uncertainly.

"Well, you're the one that turned Snowball and Mr. Fluffykins blue." Harry grinned. "Mrs. Figg was hysterical - remember her chasing Snowball all over the street?" Little Harry giggled.

"Yes!"

"Yeah, well, getting back on topic, you're the one who turned them blue. And it's only understandable that you'd be quite a talented wizard, with parents like yours." Harry allowed his chest to puff out a little.

"My mum and dad were magic too?"

"Well of course! Your mum was naturally talented, even though she was from a non-magical family, and your dad was the best prankster in the whole of Hogwarts, and a genius in his own right!"

"No kidding? I'm...actually a wizard? That...makes sense, I suppose. And it explains a lot." Harry grinned at his younger self, before both of them were thrown out of their seats as the bus screeched to a halt.

"The Leaky Cauldron, London!" the conductor called, and the man and the boy made their way off of the Knight Bus.

'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'

Harry, age 6

Diagon Alley was amazing. It was packed with people in bizarre clothing, carrying cats or cauldrons, or any assortment of brooms or books or herbs.

They had come in through the small, shabby pub and into Diagon Alley without incident. Indeed, Harry though that Prongs must have done something, for people's eyes slid over them as if they didn't exist. And then they had entered the Alley. It was bright, and colorful, and noisy, and Harry had to follow Prongs closely to be sure not to get separated.

"Come on, Harry," Prongs said, leading him through a crowd of people, "We're just going to Madam Malkin's, over there." He pointed over to the side. They made their way over to the shop, which said Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions written in fancy script above the door. Upon entering, Harry found that it was filled with racks of the long, cloak-like garbs that most of the people outside were wearing. As Harry was peering at a pile of dark maroon robes, a short, smiling witch walked up.

"Hello, dears, what can I help you with?" she asked.

"My son, here, actually needs a whole new wardrobe. Mainly day-to-day robes, but a heavy cloak and a nice set as well. I do think that he's look nice in a green..." Prongs trailed off, and Harry was whisked away to try on robes.

Madam Malkin waved her wand, and the robes slid down over Harry head for him to try on. After modeling the robes to Prongs, and trying on what seemed to Harry to be over one thousand of them, they purchased only a few sets, which Prongs paid for with some strange looking silver coins. Harry wore his new forest green cloak out of the shop, as it was getting chilly out, and because he liked the feel of the soft material.

Harry made to go back to the Leaky Cauldron, but Prongs shook his head, catching hold of his sleeve.

"Come on, Harry. We have to get something else before we go." Prongs led the way through Daigon Alley, through the twisting cobblestone streets as Harry trotted along behind him. This magic stuff was really a lot to take in, and he couldn't help but gawk at some of the shops or people that they passed. Finally Prongs stopped, and so suddenly that Harry bumped into him.

"Huh?" Harry said elegantly, and looked at the shop that they stood in front of. Above the door was a sign that said in deep purple writing: Awena's Boutique: for all of the Diviner's Needs. Prongs was looking at the place with a scowl etched on his face. He looked repulsed by the shop, but taking Harry by the arm, he took a deep breath and entered.

Harry wished he had thought to inhale before going in too, for the place smelled so strongly of incense that he had to cough. He noticed that Prongs was stifling a sneeze beside him.

"Now, while I usually wouldn't enter a shop for divination," Prongs said, leaning down to whisper to Harry, "this place probably sells something that I couldn't get elsewhere."

Walking past a display of tarot cards and crystal balls, Harry had to wonder what Prongs wanted to buy. So he asked him.

"You'll see, Harry, you'll see. It's actually a gift for your uncle Moony when we go see him, and I think that it will come in handy. I remember him mentioning one time that they sold them, but that he couldn't afford one at the time..."

Prongs left Harry to wander around the shop as he headed over towards the astrology section.

'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'

Harry, age 21

Harry left his young counterpart over near the oracle bones and walked to the astrology section of the shop. Though he didn't find exactly what he had been looking for, Harry figured that it was close enough, and perhaps even better than what Remus had mentioned seeing in the future. He quickly made his purchase and found his ward to lead him out of the shop. It was getting late, and Harry didn't want Remus to be asleep when they arrived. In fact, Harry wanted Remus to be quite awake enough to have a clear expression for him to see when they showed up. Harry grinned a little too evilly at the thought of surprising Moony, and little Harry raised an eyebrow at his expression.

"What?" the boy asked, looking up at him as they reached the Leaky Cauldron.

"Hm? Oh, nothing, I'm just thinking of how your uncle's going to look when we show up on his front step." Harry cackled. "Moony's going to have no idea what hit him."

Although actually, Harry thought as they made their way once more though the pub, that might not be the best way to go about doing this. He would have to be careful, unfortunately, and he couldn't let Remus figure out who he really was. Granted, a second Harry might not be his first guess, but Harry didn't want it to cross his mind at all. All that he wanted was a better life for himself and Remus, and a better ending for everyone. And he would accomplish it, even if he had to give up the fun of seeing Moony in person.

'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'

Harry, age 6

Prongs led Harry out of the Leaky Cauldron and into muggle London, where they walked for a while before the older man looked at his watch and abruptly broke into a run.

"Come on, Harry!" he called, "We're going to miss the bus!"

Harry hurried after him, but was slightly disappointed when they arrived just in time to catch a muggle bus. He had been looking forward to seeing more magic.

Harry and Prongs took two seats near the front of the bus, and Harry asked where they were going.

"Just a little ways out of London, to a flue port."

As Harry had no idea what flueing was, he asked, and Prongs explained that it was traveling by fireplace.

Harry wondered how wizards came up with these things.

Harry and Prongs arrived shortly at the south London flue port. They made their way to the clerk, and after paying a few knuts, and walked over to an unoccupied fireplace.

"Here," Prongs said, holding out a bag of flue powder to the boy, "take a pinch of this. Throw it into the fire place and say 'Dragon's Breath Tavern' very clearly. Make sure not to breathe in any ashes, and step into the flames. When you come out, I need you to wait for me. I'll be right behind you."

"Okay." Harry nodded, and took a pinch of the lime green dust. He threw it into the flames and quickly walked into the fireplace, shouting "Dragon's Breath Tavern!" The fire flared up, obscuring his form, and suddenly he was spinning. Different fireplaces whirled around him, and more than once a knee or an elbow got scraped across brick. Then the turning stopped abruptly, and Harry was pitched out of the fireplace, landing sprawled at the foot of a table.

When he stood, he saw that he was in of a brightly lit, lively place crowded with tables, before the fireplace flared green again, and Prongs stepped through.

"Come along, now, Harry," Prongs said, after nodding to the man behind the bar. The two of wove their way between the many tables to the doors. After leaving the Dragon's Breath Tavern, they found themselves in a lightly wooded area, with a winding path leading downhill to a valley beyond their copse.

Harry made to go down the trail, but Prongs tugged on his sleeve, pulling him in the opposite direction. They instead made their way around the tavern, heading deeper into the wood.

As they passed through the trees, Harry saw that the trunks were progressively getting thicker, and therefore the trees older. Soon they came upon thickets and undergrowth in a greater abundance, before Prongs stopped. He turned to Harry.

"Okay," he said, "We're finally here."

'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'

Harry, age 21

"Okay," Harry said, "We're finally here." He rummaged in his pockets for a moment before coming up with a smallish package wrapped in cloth. He handed it to little Harry.

"This is for Remus- your uncle. Make sure you give it to him, alright?"

The boy nodded hurriedly, but said, "Why can't you give it to him though? You're coming with me, right - because I have no idea where to go from here."

"I suppose... that I could come with you, in a sense. I'll lead you to Moony's house- and that way I get to see him again! I've really missed your uncle, kiddo. And- ah- before I forget, here's your other stuff from Diagon Alley. Here you go, ask Moony to unshrink the bag for you." Harry paused, considering for a moment- yes, this could work.

"Harry, why don't you look over there for a moment, okay?" The boy obliged, and Harry pulled out his wand. He pointed it at himself, and said mentally-so that young Harry could not hear- 'Patronus , ego sum tu!'

A wave of cool silvery light washed over him, and he felt his body relax, settling down into his new form. He was the silvery form of Prongs the stag, his Patronus. His body felt as light as feathers, and he barely had to push off the ground to leap yards. He was elated, euphoric, and confident in his power. This was what it felt like to be happiness - Harry was ever so glad that he and Dumbledore had invented this spell in the future, for he could not have survived without it.

For now, though, Prongs/Harry turned to the green eyed boy who had turned to look after the wave of pure ringing light had washed over the place where they stood.

"P-Prongs?" young Harry asked, looking toward the stag. Prongs/Harry dipped his head, and moved lightly towards the boy. Slowly, he nudged the six-year-old's shoulder, and sent a sort of thought/feeling to him. Follow me. I will guide you. The message was tinged with a sweet, simple joy.

So the boy trotted after the stag, making their way through the almost-dusky light of the forest, until they reached barrier. As the barrier was of magic, Prongs/Harry went through first, making a temporary gap for the boy to walk through. They then found themselves in front of a small cottage. It was simple, with a scruffy garden in the front, and warm lamp light falling through the windows. If one were to look inside, they would see walls lined with bookshelves.

Prongs/Harry led young Harry up to the front door. After a nudge from the silvery-white stag, the boy hesitantly rang the bell. After a moment, soft footfalls could be heard behind the door, before it was pulled open. The boy and the stag looked up at the slightly shabby looking man on the threshold. Remus looked them over once, twice, and again, before murmuring "Harry... James...?" When the pearly stag dipped its head, Moony suddenly found himself having to sit. He dropped onto the floor in front of them, and Harry asked, "Uncle Moony?"


a/n: okay, I hope that I didn't take too long writing this for you people. I had some trouble taking this where I wanted it to go- but I did get some ideas for the rest of the story.

Anyway, please review, and tell me what you want in this story- I'll probably oblige, if it's not slash.