What Might Have Been

By Ammie Hawk

Disclaimer: …is this really necessary now…

AN: Okay, so here's the weekly update. Hope it answers a few questions, if not MWAHAHA

Chapter 4: Necessary Conversations

Duo Maxwell walked out of the fireplace at Malfoy Manor behind his husband and son. He watched the teen head for the stairs before going over to his husband.

"Hey," he slipped his arms around the taller man's neck.

"You want something," amused grey eyes regarded him.

"You," Duo grinned, but quickly sobered. "After what happened with Harry today, and all that was brought up, I want to spend some uninterrupted time with you, but…"

"You need to talk to Draco," Lucius finished for him.

"Yeah," the braided man sighed. "Something's been bothering him since before dinner and I really got to find out what's going on."

"I understand. Go talk to our son. When you're done," the blond gave him a seductive smile, "you can find me in our room. I'll be waiting."

Duo couldn't resist, he stood on his tiptoes and kissed his husband. They stayed locked in each other's embrace for several minutes before Duo forcibly broke it off. He held up his hand to the blond's lips.

"I-I have to go," he said breathlessly. "Dray. Hold that thought, please."

"You're right," Lucius reluctantly released his hold. "Go take care of our son. We'll continue this afterward."

"Right," the braided man turned and practically ran up the stairs.

Once on the landing, he took a moment to calm his raging libido so he could have a serious conversation with his son. He made his way over to Draco's room and knocked quietly. After a moment, he heard his son grant him entrance. He took a deep breath and slipped quietly into the room.

"Hey, kiddo," he closed the door behind him and made his way over to the bed where the teen was sitting. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Draco shrugged, leaning back against the ornate headboard.

"Liar," his father got comfortable against the raised footboard, so they were facing each other. "You've been upset since before dinner, ever since you and the others went to talk with Harry. So, I'll ask again, what's going on?"

"It's just not fair, Dad," the blond ran his hands through his hair, tears pooling in his grey eyes. "Harry and I have been best friends for forever, we've been through so much together, and I want to be there for him in this, but he doesn't trust me, hell, he doesn't even like me. I just want my best friend back. But I don't even know if that's possible anymore."

As he finished, he buried his face in his hands and started sobbing. Duo was at his side in an instant, and gathered his baby into his arms. They sat there like that for several minutes, Duo rubbing soothing circles on Draco's back, patiently waiting for the boy to regain control.

"Feel better?" the braided man asked once the tears were finally spent, but he didn't expect an answer. "Now, I know it's hard. Trust me, I know. Not only did I go through something similar with your father when you were a baby, but I went through it with Trowa too, back during the war. It's one of the hardest things you'll ever have to go through, but Draco you can't give up. If you do, then yeah, you'll never get your best friend back. But if you don't, and you prove to him that you are trustworthy and his friend, no matter what, then it'll come back stronger and better than ever. And he may not realize it, but Harry needs you now more than ever. So fight for him, you're my son after all, and I'm nothing if not stubborn. And who knows, maybe if you fight hard enough, you can move past the friendship stage, and into where you actually want to be."

"Dad!" the blond cried scandalized.

"What?" Duo held up his hands. "I just call it like I see it. Anyway," he leaned over and kissed his son's forehead, "I'm gonna let you get some sleep now. Just remember what I said. And if you need us, your father and I are just across the hall. Goodnight, son."

"Goodnight, Dad," Draco smiled at him. "And thanks. You're right, I can't just give up on Harry."

"I'm always right," the braided man laughed as he left the room, making his way to his waiting husband.

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Alec stepped away from his fathers when they had Apparated into the foyer of their three story house, his dad affectionately dubbed the Freudian Slip. The teen sighed quietly before turning to head up to his bedroom. He stopped, however, when a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Why don't we talk?" Sirius suggested quietly.

"I'll get some hot chocolate, and we'll talk in the living room," Severus interjected.

"Do we have to?" the teen asked, shuffling his feet on the floor.

"Your posture says it all, Alec," the Potions Master shook his head. "You are just like your father in that regard."

"Yeah, you get all broody when you get upset," the dog Animagus rolled his eyes, "just like Sev."

Alec couldn't help but chuckle at the couple's antics. Most people couldn't understand how his parents ended up together, and stayed that way for as long as they did, but he got it. His dads understood and read each other on a level that was almost psychic. It's what kept their school rivalry so intense.

"Fine, let's talk," he said finally.

Sirius grinned and in one swift move lifted his son off the ground and tossed him over his shoulder.

"Dad!" Alec protested. "I'm not a little kid anymore."

"You don't think I don't know that?" the Animagus laughed. "You're not as light as you used to be you know."

"Is that your subtle way of calling me fat?" he tried to maneuver himself so he could use his father's face.

"If you don't stop squirming, I'm going to drop you," Sirius warned, still laughing, his son was so much like him.

"You always say that," Alec finally joined in his father's laughter. "And for as long as I remember, you have never dropped me."

"That is because you were too young to remember the only time it did happen," Severus said, entering the room with three steaming mugs of hot chocolate. "You were only two at the time, and I came in to see you flying over his shoulder. He had underestimated his strength and lost his grip. I managed to pull my wand and direct you safely to the nearest soft surface. Ever since that day, I have placed a silent sticking charm on you whenever I leave the two of you alone."

"Gee thanks, Sev," Sirius pouted, lowering his son back to his feet, "and after all this time I thought you trusted me."

"I do trust you, Sirius," the Potions Master shook his head as he sat in his armchair. "I just never wanted to relive the terror I felt in that moment."

"I was more careful after that," the Black heir pouted.

"I know," Severus smiled faintly. "In fact, you didn't do it for almost a year after the incident, until Alec begged you to. Now, as much fun as it is to reminisce on this matter, I believe we have other matters to discuss at the moment. Alec," he turned his attention to his son, "tell us what's bothering you."

"Well," Alec picked up his hot chocolate, but paused before taking a sip. "You didn't use any potions in it, did you?" he locked gazes with his father.

"No, I did not," the Potions Master shook his head. "I have never put a potion in your food or drink, except when I was testing your detection skills. I think you've been spending too much time with your uncles."

The teen couldn't help but smile, "I can live with that." He took a sip of his cocoa. "So, I'm confused. After everything that's come out today, I'm just not sure what happened."

"We're all confused about that, Lec," Sirius shook his head. "What's going on with Harry is really messed up."

"That's the thing," Alec took a deep breath, "I'm not talking about Harry, that is screwed up and I don't think any of us will truly understand it. But I'm talking about me. I wasn't even in Harry's alternate history, and you guys forgot me in this one. Uncle Trowa was the one that remembered. Dad, you're one of the best Occlumens I know, how could you be whammied by a memory charm?"

"I have explained this before," Severus sighed, "when I began teaching you Occlumency. The fundamentals of defending your mind from invasion through Legilimancy is vastly different from the effects of a memory charm. A skilled Occlumens can detect when a Legilimens is probing in their mind and can subtly redirect, block, or bring up specifically what they want to share, whereas with a memory charm, it is a nonspecific target on your mind and usually happens without the foreknowledge of the victim. In this specific case, you were taken away from us and our memories modified. Without you in the picture, there was no reason we would question the memories modified. Without you in the picture, there was no reason we would question the memories that we were given. However, because the charm was placed by an amateur in an emotional state, once you were returned to us, it did not take long for us to fully break the charm. Had circumstances been different, and someone competent had performed the spell, there's no guarantee we would have ever remembered, even after you had been returned to us."

"I guess that makes sense," the teen sighed. "I just…"

"It hurts," Sirius put his arm around his son. "We know. That's one of the reasons we've never talked about it before. That incident broke our family apart, not only did it take you away from us, but they put your dad and I at odds. They not only took our memories of you but they planted fake memories that Sev and I hated each other. Even after you were returned to us, it took a while for us to get over those forced emotions and get back to where we were before and move on to where we are today."

"But that is all in the past," Severus interjected. "There is no changing it. All we can do is move on. We love you, Alec, and nothing is going to change that."

"I love you, too," Alec smiled faintly. "But I should probably go to bed, it's been a long day. Thanks for the cocoa, Dad, and the talk. I'll see you both in the morning."

"Good night, Alec," his parents chorused as he made his way up the stairs to his bedroom.

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Harry lay awake many hours after everyone had left for the evening. He knew he should be sleeping, his father, it was so weird thinking about that fact, had warned him it would be an early morning so he could be retrained, but he just couldn't. There was just too much to think about.

The truth was, he really wanted to believe that what they were telling him was true. It was everything he had ever wanted. There were people who love him and wanted him for him, not because he was the Boy-Who-Lived, or the Chosen One, or the Defeater of Voldemort, or even the son of heroes, but just because he was Harry, or Hairu, or whatever. It was all he ever wanted out of life, a place that was his and his alone. But… but his current memories were keeping him from accepting it. Maybe if he understood why then things would be easier.

He rolled onto his side and stared unseeingly at the place where he knew the picture board was located. Of course, with his luck, this all could just be a cruel dream, and he could be dying, and this was just Death's way of toying with him one last time. With that bleak thought in mind, he finally closed his eyes and let sleep claim him. He'd deal with whatever came next as he always did, with the reckless abandon of a Gryffindor.

"Harry," an airy disembodied voice called to him.

Green eyes opened and he found himself floating in a misty gray void. He looked around, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice. Through the gloom, a dark figure materialized. He squinted, trying to bring the figure into clearer focus.

"Don't strain yourself too hard, Harry," the figure said, waving a dark hand and a chair formed out of the mist. "Please, have a seat, it's time that you and I finally talked."

"Who… who are you?" the teen took the proffered seat, he may as well be comfortable.

"I have many names," the other conjured another chair and took a seat across from him, "for this meeting you may call me Shinigami, for I am Death."

As he sat, the figure became clear to his eyes. He was an average height male, with long brown hair pulled back into a braid, and glowing cobalt blue eyes. As Harry continued to study him, he couldn't help but feel that he knew this man from somewhere.

"D-Duo!" emerald eyes widened in surprised recognition.

"No," he shook his head. "As I said, I am Shinigami. Your godfather and I have an… understanding. Since you are now familiar with this form, and I find it highly comfortable, I chose it for this meeting."

"So, you're Death?" Harry ran his hands through his hair. "So I was right. I'm dead, or dying, and you're just fucking with me."

"Quite the contrary, Harry," the braided man chuckled. "I have known you intimately since you were fifteen months old. You have come to me more times in your young life than most do in any single lifetime. You have accepted me on numerous occasions and rejected my Hallows, not once, but twice. And because of your willingness to change the past for others and not stick around to see how it would play out, I am giving you an opportunity. I have granted you this second chance, to see what your life would be like had Tom Riddle died that fateful Halloween night."

"But I don't remember any of it," the teen interrupted. "What's the point if I don't remember?"

"I did that on purpose as well," Shinigami smiled. "Your memories of this timeline will return to you, given time. I left you with your other memories so you could better appreciate what you now have, and what you did to bring it about. And don't worry, your memories will always remain, even when the others come to the foreground, you will always remember what you lost, and also what you gained."

"But…" Harry frowned.

"Don't question it too much, that's why I came here in the first place," the other laughed. "The more you accept what is going on, the easier your memories will come back to you. In the meantime, I will give you something to make things a bit easier on you, or at least so you won't die come the morning."

Shinigami reached out his hand and placed two fingers on Harry's forehead, right where his scar used to be.

"Farewell, Harry Potter, Hairu Barton-Chang," the figure began fading from view. "Please do not seek me out. I hope not to see you again, for at least a hundred years or so. Till then, goodbye."

Ammie: Okay, so there it is. Hope ya'll enjoy. Please let me know what you think.