Chapter 4: The Third Vial
Harry sat and stared at the shimmering vials in front of him, afraid to touch one. He'd seen two possible futures, one better than the other, but both of them left him with a large pit in his stomach. Suddenly a bright flash of light almost blinded him, causing him to cover his eyes. When he looked around it was obvious he wasn't in the Common Room anymore, as things zipped by overhead, causing him to duck.
"Sorry 'bout that, mate! Forgot we made those."
"Fred?" Harry turned around and looked and there, standing next to the counter, in a garish purple robe, was Fred Weasley. He looked as he had the first time Harry had stepped foot in the shop. "The shop?"
"Of course! Love the place, can't get enough. I stop by every now and then just to creep out George. Fun to watch him have the willies."
Harry laughed and then grew thoughtful. "I thought my Dad was coming next."
"Oh, he'll be along eventually. After the last one your mum thought I better come see you. Dreadfully sad, wasn't it?"
"What?" Harry adjusted his glasses. "You can see it?"
"Hmmm, more or less. Too bad I didn't get to see you and Hermione shagging. Loads of material to take the mickey, but no, had to have her dad's view. Well, then. What'dya think so far? Oh, and leave Ginny out of this, I don't want to talk about that one."
"Uh, ok. Well..." Harry stared as a fanged frisbee flew across the room. "I'm not sure. I don't know about me and Hermione, it seemed good, but sad. Really sad."
"But there were good parts, like, you know, shagging Hermione for decades. Thought about that a bit myself, once. But we're here for you, not for me, mate. So, let's see what we've got here." Fred waved his hand and six perfectly wrapped presents, in purple and green paper, appeared in front of Harry, floating at eye level. "I'm sure there's a good one in there somewhere. I guarantee nothing will explode; Big D made me promise."
"Big D?" Harry's mind went immediately to his cousin Dudley, who he hadn't thought about in ages.
"Oh yeah. Death. He's a hell of a card player, but that's not important. Pick a present, winner every time. Well, winning is sort of implied, I guess, but you at least know it won't explode. Or do you just want to pick one and go with that, ignore the rest?"
"You really play cards with Death?"
"Only on Tuesdays. He's a rather busy chap. Bird. Anyway, pick your poison. Sorry, bad choice of words."
"Only you, Fred. Or George, I guess. Did you know he's dating..."
"Angelina Johnson. Took him long enough. He's horrible at...never mind, Harry. Are you dragging this out on purpose? Unbelievable chance you've got here, mate. Don't want to give all that up, do you?"
Harry thought about it for a moment and then reached for the closest box. As soon as he opened it purple smoke enveloped him, causing him to wave his arms to make it go away. After a few coughs he glared at Fred. "I thought you said it wouldn't explode."
"And it didn't, did it? Smoke doesn't explode. Couldn't resist. Also, take a look." He brandished a mirror out of his sleeve and held it in front of Harry.
Harry looked into the mirror and smirked. His skin was a faint purple color. "Nice, Fred, nice."
"Oh quit whingeing, it won't last. Go on, then." He pointed to a small table with a pensieve. "Have at it."
Once again Harry poured the silver liquid into the pensieve, watched it swirl, and after steadying his nerves began another view of a possible future.
-ooo-
Harry found himself standing in front of a giant house, something out of one of those grand houses tours he went on with Hermione once. The sun was bright, and if he was not in a pensieve it would have felt hot on his skin. As it was he felt nothing. The grounds were expertly manicured, hedges just so, flowers abundant throughout the long walk up to the house. Not knowing what to do he stood there, unsure of whether to head up to the house, but before he could decide he heard voices. Speaking French. He didn't understand what they were saying, but as soon as he thought that all of the sudden it changed and he understood every word perfectly.
"Gabrielle, Maman will be furious."
Harry walked around a hedge and saw them sitting on a small bench; Fleur and Gabrielle. Gabrielle held a hand over her stomach and looked down while Fleur looked apoplectic.
"It's my life, Fleur."
"Non, it is more than that now, isn't it?" Fleur shook her head. "And Papa? I don't want to think what will happen. You should be glad Harry is good at spells or Papa would take his head off."
"We didn't plan this, it just happened." Gabrielle turned and stared at her sister. "And we're keeping it."
"Of course you are, what do you think I would say?" Fleur got up and walked forward a bit.
Harry stood there, motionless. Gabrielle was much older than the last time he had seen her, and she was...well, beautiful was the only word. Gorgeous. Even more so that Fleur, and he didn't know if that was possible. And then Harry's brain kicked in; Gabrielle was pregnant, and not only that, it was his.
"How did this happen, Gabrielle?"
"I think you know how it happens."
"Not that, ooh, are you trying to make me mad?"
"No, you're doing quite well on your own. But it was when he came over with the Aurors, the ceremony? You know, the one the government gave him for getting rid of that idiot who thought he was the new Voldemort? I was there because all Department of Magical Relations employees were required to attend. He didn't know anyone. But then he saw me, we had a bottle of wine, then another, and then we went back at my house."
"Does he know?"
Gabrielle shook her head. "Not yet. You're the first person I've told."
Fleur paced and cursed for a while. Eventually she turned back to her sister. "I thought he had a girlfriend?"
"Non, they broke up. Her team is busy with Quidditch."
"How long? How long ago did they break up?"
Gabrielle threw her hands in the air. "I don't know, why don't you owl Angelina Johnson and ask her? I bet she'll love that."
"You are impossible!" Fleur shook her head and clenched her fists. "You must tell him. Now. Go. Don't come back until he knows."
"But what will Maman say when I'm not here for her birthday?"
"I'll tell her something came up. It won't be the first birthday of hers you've missed, little sister."
"Stop throwing that in my face!" Gabrielle stood and glared at her sister. "Fine. I'll go." She took a few steps away and then turned back. "And I don't want to see you for a while, not until you can be happy about this, because I AM."
-ooo-
Once again the scene changed, depositing Harry on the steps of a large house in the country. It was spring, and the green of the hillsides enveloped him as the house was the only thing for miles. He glanced over and saw Quidditch rings in the distance. For a moment he thought about going over to see if there was a game going on but once again noises brought his attention out of his thoughts. A blonde-haired boy ran out of the door, literally right through him, carrying a broom. Harry quickly moved to the other side as two other boys, slightly smaller than the first, the smallest with black hair, carried their brooms and ran after the first boy towards the pitch.
Gabrielle exited the door after them, older, slightly larger in the hips, but she was still beautiful.
"Two hours, boys, that's all. Your father will be home soon."
The boys waved an arm over their head to indicate they'd heard her and hopped on their brooms, streaking up into the sky. Gabrielle rolled her eyes and went back inside.
Harry followed Gabrielle back into the house, walking straight through the door as if it didn't exist. It was while contemplating how he'd done that when he saw Hermione sitting at a very nice table with tea set out. Gabrielle pulled her long hair back and retied it before sitting down with Hermione.
"Quidditch mad, they're all Quidditch mad."
Hermione smiled. "They come by it honestly. Harry was always on the pitch. Said it was the only place he was truly happy when we were at school."
"He's almost as bad as they are, even now. Some days he comes home, barely says a word to me, gives me a kiss and that smile and then he is out on the broom. You would think after playing Auror all over France he would be tired, but no." She smiled and poured the tea. "Its one reason we bought this place. He took one look and said 'the pitch can go over there.' I don't even think he asked the price." Gabrielle took a sip of her tea. "But you did not come all this way to talk Quidditch."
Hermione sat her teacup on the table. "No, no I didn't. Gabrielle, why don't you give it another chance? Molly and Arthur ask about you, Harry and the boys every Sunday."
"Non. Not until Fleur pulls her head out of her..."
"How long has it been? You're sisters."
"Not after what she said to me." Gabrielle shook her head vehemently. "And on my wedding day, no less! Maman and Papa finally came around, but her? No, she's too stubborn."
"She married a Weasley. They're all stubborn."
"As you should know. How is Ron? Harry tells me he's up for a promotion."
"He's good. He's in line to be Head Auror, but nothing's certain yet. Part of me wishes that he and Harry were still working together, though."
Gabrielle smiled sadly. "But our home is in France, Hermione. And Molly and Arthur visit; it isn't like they don't see the boys."
"You know it's different for Molly. Every Sunday she has five extra plates on the sideboard, hoping you will stop over. She wants her family together." Hermione took a sip of tea and rubbed her fingers along the side of the china cup. "What does Harry say?"
"That he will go over there when Fleur and Bill apologize, and even then he'll take some time to think about it. Bill was quite horrible to him, you know. I think he was hoping that Harry would get back together with Ginny. He didn't think Harry and Angelina were right for each other, and he was right about that, but not about Ginny."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know that about Bill."
Gabrielle huffed. "Ask Ron. I'm sure he knows. It is impossible to keep a secret amongst Weasleys."
Hermione let out a sigh. "I'm a Weasley, Gabrielle."
"Yes, but you married one, you were not raised in that house. Those boys cannot keep secrets. It all comes out eventually, over firewhiskey or food."
"True, true." Hermione looked at her watch. "I'm sorry, but I must go. The children are coming back from Hogwarts tomorrow and..."
Gabrielle reached forward and took Hermione's hand. "And I know, my dear, that you cannot wait. I also know how much you want things to be different, but he is happy. Besides, we are all going to Spain for the summer holiday. We'll sit on the beach while he and Ron do stupid things with the children in the water, and later we'll watch as they drink too much and are even bigger idiots."
Hermione laughed. "Yes, I'm sure that'll happen." She stood up and hugged Gabrielle. "I'll send you an owl."
Harry stood there in shock. He lived in France? He hadn't seen the Weasleys in years? Then he corrected himself, he hadn't been to The Burrow in years, all because of what happened with Gabrielle and Fleur. Harry laughed and shook his head. He'd dated Angelina Johnson?
Before he could think further on it the scene disappeared.
-ooo-
Instead of seeing more of his life with Gabrielle, like the other futures, Harry found himself in a field of white. There was nothing around him. No walls, no floor, no furniture or anything, only white. For a moment he felt as if he was falling, since he couldn't see the ground, but he remained upright. It was still too much for him, as he felt as if he was floating, and before he knew it there underneath him was his Firebolt.
It felt good to be on the Firebolt again. Even though he didn't know where he was he kicked off and felt the sensation of rising in the air, and then it all materialized around him; the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. With unbridled joy he shot around the pitch, weaving in and out of the Keeper rings, finally climbing as high as possible and diving down towards the grass, pulling up at the very last minute.
"Wronski feint! Well done!"
Harry turned and saw a figure approach on a broom, a figure with messy black hair, just like his. "Dad!"
James flew closer and tossed a Quaffle at his son. Harry caught it and laughed. "Nicely done, my boy. Nicely done." He hovered close to Harry and gave him a hug. "You know I'll hear about that from your mum. Drives her mental watching you play, especially when you got hurt."
Harry laughed. "Is that a mum-thing?"
"Absolutely. My mum used to go spare watching me an' Sirius. He's in the doghouse with your mum, you know."
Harry laughed again. "Yeah, about the drinking."
"She'll get over it." James pointed down to the stands. "Let's go have a chat."
The two Potters flew down and landed on the pitch and then climbed up into the stands. As they sat there Harry looked over at his Dad. "Hey, I'm taller!"
"Don't rub it in." James smiled and then pulled his son into a hug. "Merlin, I've wanted to do that for years."
"Me too, Dad. Me too."
Finally he held Harry out at arm's length. "Still doesn't seem right, seeing you all grown up. Glad I got you that toy broom, though."
"I thought Sirius bought me that?"
"Nah, I did, but we said he did. I'd have got a lot of stick from your mum." He looked at Harry and shook his head. "I should have been there to tell you things..."
"It's ok, Dad. I knew you would if you could."
"I know, but that doesn't make it right." James sighed and then smiled. "So, possible futures, eh? Tell me what you think so far."
"You saw it, Dad. Well, Fred said he could, anyway."
James nodded. "Yes, I saw, but that doesn't tell me what you think."
Harry sat silently for a while. "I'm not sure what to think. I...I don't know if I want to look at the others. I might just pick one I haven't seen and go with it."
"Well, son, if you do that, you'll have some disappointed people. They wanted to visit with you."
"Really?" Harry looked at him. "What if I have them all here at once? Would that work?"
James laughed and pointed out at the pitch. "Ask the ref."
A man dressed like a professional Quidditch referee flew over, dismounted and climbed the steps to the stands. "I take it you wish to hurry things along?"
"Uh, yeah." Harry nodded and looked at his father, who just nodded towards the referee. "Are you..."
"Yes." The referee nodded. "I'm Death. Thought you'd find this easier. I'll give you choices when I get back."
Death mounted his broom and rode off, leaving Harry a little worried.
