"Rose?" Lily asked, carefully and wide eyed.
"I go by Harry, actually."
"Your father always did like that name better."
The mother and daughter stood, three meters apart, staring at each other, before Lily Potter marched forward, and held her second child.
"My baby, oh my baby."
The day had been a good, yet emotionally exhausting one.
Harry was reunited with her mother and father, for the first time since she could remember she got to hug them. She saw Sirius too and apologized to him, but he forgave her easily considering that Madame Pomphrey fixed it in under an hour, and that it's not every day your goddaughter comes back from the dead.
Remus couldn't arrive until dinnertime, but he too swept his best friends daughter up in a tight hug, before gifting her a bar of Honeydukes finest chocolate. This was a big deal coming from Remus.
Neville too, was reunited with his parents, who had passed naturally in his own world. He felt guilty, like he was betraying his real parent's memories. But his mother alleviated this when she told him that while they could never replace each other's loved ones, there was no harm in loving each other now.
They were so proud of him. Proud that he was in hufflepuff and loved herbology and collecting chocolate frog cards. Proud that he was a war hero.
Out of everyone reunited with their families, Neville was the only one who discussed openly and honestly his role in the war. Hermione, Ginny, Ron and Luna didn't want to worry their parents. Harry didn't want hers to hate her.
He told them about Hogwarts being taken by deatheaters, and keeping Dumbledor's army alive. He told them about how he and Luna grew close that year. He told them about killing Nagini, and about everyone he'd lost in the final battle.
In turn they told him about how, in his fourth year, somebody put his name in the Goblet of Fire, because of a prophecy about him killing Voldemort. Neville almost wanted to tell him that he knew how this story ended, but her supposed that would be Harry's choice, not his. They told him about how in the third task, he had gotten the cup in the middle of the maze, and that they never found his body.
Ron and Ginny hugged their parents, who had been killed when Lucius Malfoy led a raid on the burrow a month after the final battle.
They told their parents that they both played on the Hogwarts quidditch team. Ron told them that Hermione was soulmate, which prompted Ms. Weasley to sweep her up into a big Weasley Hug. Ginny told her parents that she liked girls, but didn't tell them that she had dated Harry for a couple of months after Harry's own soulmate had died, because that had been terribly awkward and she regretted it. They said they didn't mind, and that Mrs. Weasley had always wanted more daughters anyways.
Luna, who had died in a potions accident instead of her mother, talked with her parents about Nargles and Winged Humdigums, but also made sure that her mother knew her death was not her fault.
Harry told her parents that she played quidditch, and like defense against the dark arts, and asked them about what happened that Halloween sixteen years ago. She didn't say anything about being in slytherin, or being a parslemouth, or having a soulmate. They would hate her and she had just gotten them back.
Her parents told her that in this world, Lily and James had left her with a babysitter as the war was not quite so bad, only to come home to find the house in ruins. They told her that her older brother Brian had been at a play date with Oliver Wood at the time, and her little brother Marius had not yet been born. She didn't tell them that they were all dead in her world.
They didn't talk about her admittance to using dark magic, or being linked to Voldemort. They had their daughter back, and wanted to forget everything else.
That is not to say they would not eventually discuss those admissions.
When Dumbledor3 returned from his business in the ministry, he told them that they would all be welcome to resume their seventh or sixth year respectively, once they were settled in. No one told him that Harry, Ron and Hermione had dropped out after their fifth year. Besides, if anyone could get caught up on one and a half years of material in a week, it was those three.
On All Hallows Eve, Draco Malfoy woke with a sharp pain in his side. In his delirious, partially asleep state, the first thing his mind jumped to was poisoning. He supposed having a dark lord living with your parents would make one jumpy.
Being awake, he knew it must just be a cramp since he watched what he ate too carefully.
He walked out to his living area, a modest sized room with a couch, coffee table and half kitchen. It wasn't Malfoy manor, but being a prefect did have its perks. Across the room was another door that lead to the dorm of the girl prefect, Pansy Parkinson.
Pansy was by far his best friend, and if he wasn't such a damn romantic, he would have allowed his father to set up a marriage contract. As it was, Pansy had a white mark, and he'd be damned if he took that type of opportunity away from his best friend.
Walking over to the kitchenette, he cast a quick tempus charm, and discovered that it was exactly 12:03. It wasn't like he could afford to lose sleep, between NEWTS, prefect duties and the war looming over his head, he didn't exactly sleep well on a good night.
But Draco had never been one to stomach pain well, and he knew he either had to get a pain relief potion for his side or he was going to be up all night.
Draco made himself a cup of coffee, knowing that his personal potions stock was currently empty, and that both Snape and Pomphrey were asleep for the night. Neither would take kindly to being woken for a non-emergency.
Draco took his coffee with cream and sugar, thank you. Blaise had made fun of him, saying that if Draco had to pick up a horrible muggle drink from the continent, then he could at least drink it like a man. How could one drink coffee like a man, Draco wondered.
Draco knew he was different from most boys his age. He had one or two dalliances, but did not exert much energy trying to please the other sex. He did not care for the hyper masculinity his classmates gave off like too much cologne. It stunk of insecurity and pandering, two things Malfoys did not do.
It also helped that being wealthy, good looking, and powerful, Draco had never had any reason to feel insecure. And also that romanticism thing: Since his soulmate had died when he was a child, Draco wanted no part in true romance.
It was silly, he knew. If he had never had a mark, he wouldn't know the difference. But it felt wrong to their memory to ever become romantically close to anyone else.
Setting down with his coffee, Draco slipped a book out from its hiding spot under a cushion. It was called "The Hunger Games." He had first picked it up of a newsstand in London, in an attempt to satisfy his curiosity about how muggles lived, before realizing that it had little to do with actual muggle culture. It was a good, if dangerous, read nevertheless, even if Draco could only read it in the dead of night.
He hated how similar his family was to the citizens of the capitol.
Two chapters, and another cup of coffee later, the pain in his side had not abated. Now he was beginning to worry; he had read about an appendicitis, but now he couldn't remember whether that hurt on the left or the right side.
Returning to his room, Draco made his way over to the full length mirror that stood next to his dresser. Pulling up his night shirt, he got a good look at his left side, trying to see if there was any noticeable swelling or rash.
His tattoo was that of a lynx, one with piercing eyes and a proud stance. His mother told him that a Lynx represented cunning and strength. She said that his soulmate would have grown up to be a fine slytherin.
He used to spend hours standing in the mirror, tracing his red tattoo and wishing it would turn white. He had fallen in love with the idea of their being a person out there who would love him unconditionally, and support him no matter how badly he messed up.
He had grown used to the idea of settling though. His parents weren't soulmates, but that didn't mean they weren't happy. He deserved to have that too.
But he still hoped. So when he made out the white color of his tattoo it was a rush of both shock and elation that hit him.
That Monday, both Professors Potter took the day off, ostensibly for "family matters", pulling both Brian and Marius out for the day as well.
Harry had looked confused hearing that her brother, two years her senior, still attended Hogwarts. James explained that after the war broke out Dumbledore had decided to allow students the opportunity to stay on another three years in order to receive specialized training. Brian, wanting to follow in his father's footsteps and become a member of the order, was in the Auror program.
"How's that going for him?"
"He's enjoying it, but I wish he wasn't so desperate to go to war." Lily said, with obvious fondness.
"War?" Harry almost choked. If Neville had been the boy who lived, and he died in forth year, then that left no one to kill Voldemort. It made so much sense now. That was why fate had pulled her across dimensions, so she could restore the balance that Voldemort had tipped.
Despair wrapped its lead-laden fingers around her heart, but Harry had never been one for self-pity. It was a complex set of thoughts that occupied her mind, despite her face remaining neutral. Naturally Harry had been grateful for the war to end and felt that she had done more than could be expected of any one witch to preserve the world.
But she would not stand aside for her own comfort while people died. She would defeat Voldemort again, using the knowledge she had of his plans and horcruxes, and she would protect her family this time, and then she would live her normal life.
"Er, yes, you-know-how is in power currently, is he not in you world?"
Harry shook her head no, and let her parents assume that Voldemort had just stayed dead after being defeated by her own worlds boy-who-lived.
From what she understood of her parents' description, despite Voldemort primarily targeting Britain, all countries part of the International Wizarding Ministries had banded together to pose an organized front. Here, Fudge was never elected, as too many insisted on Dumbledore stepping into the role.
Now the war was not as all-consuming as it was in Harry's world. Life went on, just with extra safety precautions here and there.
That morning, after breakfast, James and Lily picked up their boys and brought them back to Potter manor, where Harry was awaiting for them with Remus and Sirius. Lily took her boys aside and said, "I have some big news for you boys, it may be a bit strange, but its good news I promise."
"Mum?" Brian prompted, as Lily paused, trying to find the words to say this best.
"You know that you used to have a sister right?" This was mostly addressed at Marius, who was born after his sister's death.
"Voldemort killed her. We know mom." Brian seemed a bit pained. He still had memories of Rose, having been almost four when she died. He missed the feeling of having a sister, and it made him furious to think that a mad man had stolen that from him and his family.
"Last Saturday, on All Hallows Eve, the lines between different dimensions were as thin as they ever are, and the conditions were just right for six people to pass between the border, ending up in our world. I know, hear me out." Brian nodded, understanding the theory behind alternate dimensions. Those must have been the intruders he confronted in the Great Hall. Marius, a third year, looked more skeptical.
"One of them was your sister, or at least the Rose Potter from a different world. We met her last night, and she's inside with Sirius now."
Brian looked behind his mother, seeing if he could catch a peak through the doorway. It was farfetched, but it was everything he had ever hoped for.
"This isn't some kind of sadistic joke?" He asked, already getting excited. Marius, who did everything his brother did, was bouncing in anticipation.
"Not even Sirius could be so cruel," Lily said affectionately, "But boys, remember she's gone through a lot of changes in the past days, try not to overwhelm her."
Harry was being absolutely thrashed by Remus at wizard's chess when her brothers entered the room.
She knew vaguely about Brian, but only because her Sirius mentioned him once, and not in much detail. Otherwise, she would have never known she once had a brother.
Brian looked like James, only with Lily's eyes, and lighter brown hair with reddish tones. He was taller than Harry ever hoped to be and looked young, despite being two and a half years Harry's senior. Standing next to and slightly behind him was who she assumed to be Marius. His hair was the same fiery red as his mother's and he also shared her distinctive bright green eyes. His face was much more a mix of the two, with James's strong jaw and forehead, but Lily's wide mouth and button nose. He smiled excitedly at her, and she smiled back.
Harry stood and held out her hand, feeling awkward and said, "My friends call me Harry. It looks like I'm your sister." She was surprised to find herself enveloped in a tight hug from both sides.
Brian whispered, "This is a Potter hug, it lasts a mandatory minute." He and his brother began to count down the seconds in a rather awful Bulgarian accent. They were goofy and silly and trusting and everything Harry never got the chance to be. She loved it.
The rest of the day progressed in much the same fashion. Brian put something in Sirius's potion to turn his hair pink with orange polka-dots, and Lily and Remus admonished him. James and Marius played a game to see who could successfully hide the most whoopee cushions, which Marius won.
Harry did not partake in the pranking, but did chime in with her own particular dry and cutting wit, which the Potters, including their honorary members, found positively delightful.
Harry wondered if she would have been like that too, all Gryffindor confidence and silly humor, if she had been raised a Potter. Probably.
"Rose?" James asked. She should really start thinking of him as 'dad', however foreign the word was to her.
"Hmm?" she responded. "We've been trying to get you attention for the past minute."
"Oh, right sorry. Just a bit caught up in everything."
"That's perfectly understandable," James smiled at her, "We just wanted to know if you'd like to join us for a quick game of Quidditch?"
"That sounds great."
As it turns out, Potter Manor has a quidditch pitch in the back, complete with goal posts and spectator stands. The five of them, James, Sirius, Brian, Marius and Harry, made their way over to the broom cupboard.
"Dad, can I pretty pretty please ride a firebolt today? I promise I'll be careful." Marius was practically tugging on his father's coattails.
"It takes a lot of experience to handle one of those Marius, you know if you lose control your mother would never let you ride again." Marius was upset, but couldn't argue with his father's logic. Besides, he thought, it's not like a Nimbus two-thousand is all that slow either.
"Do you play quidditch often?" Brian asked her.
"Yeah, I made seeker for my house first year. Haven't looked back since." She said with a smile.
"Seeker first year! I bet you could give dad a run for his money!" Piped in Marius.
"We'll see." Harry said modestly, making her way into the shed, before picking out a Nimbus two-thousand for herself.
"Adults against kids?" suggested Brian. "Mum can referee."
"Sounds good."
Considering that there were only five of them, they played without snitch or bludgers, and whichever team got to one hundred first won.
The game was fun, if riddled with flagrant cheating. Sirius even pulled Marius's robes over his head while James took the quaffle from him. Harry played competently, but not seriously. For now, she didn't want to impress anybody. She just wanted to be a normal girl with her family. She still relished the feeling of being on a broom again. She hadn't had time for that during the war.
Except she wasn't normal, and Harry knew she wouldn't be able to hide it forever. Either her soulmark, or her nightmares, or her connection with Voldemort would come to light eventually. That's not even mentioning how her completely Gryffindor family would react to her being a slytherin, or a parslemouth for that matter.
She'd save that worry for another day though.
For now, the potter family gathered around the kitchen table for a buffet style dinner, made by their house elf Esky.
It was Wednesday when James and Lily pulled Harry aside after lunch, and Harry's mother said, with kind eyes, "We need to talk."
This was it. Harry was slytherin through and through, but she would not lie to her family. She had been given a second chance and she was going to do it right.
"Ask away."
The three settled themselves onto one of the many cozy couches that were littered around Potter Manor.
"You know we love you, but we have concerns about what happened during your interview. We're not here to attack you, we would just like to help you," her father said.
"That being said, we want you to explain the context for when you used dark magic."
Harry took a deep breathe. She had known this was coming but that did not make it any easier. She hated herself for what she had done, how could others possibly accept it?
"I know I gave you the impression that my world is peaceful. It's not. Voldemort came back with a vengeance, and soon everyone capable of casting stupefy and protego was on the battlefront. Me included." Lily gripped her daughter's shoulder. She had recognized the pain that haunted her daughter's eyes, but she had hoped that it wasn't as bad as she thought.
"Albus allowed for children on the front line?" though he tried to remain calm, anger laced James's question. He had missed seventeen years of protecting his daughter, and he was going to make up for it now.
"Dumbledore was dead."
Only then did James and Lily understand just how bad the war had been for the light. It was impossible for the couple to imagine Dumbledore dead. He was the center of the movement against Voldemort, without him the light would surely lose, they thought.
"Voldemort had infiltrated the ministry, so I used the imperious curse to break into both the ministry and Gringotts in order to steal artefacts to help the order defeat him."
"I used sectumsempra," Harry continued," on Bellatrix Lestrange, after just witnessing her kill Sirius."
Lily let out a sob for her daughter, while a tear streaked down James's cheek. She was a child. She shouldn't have had to do any of this.
"I cast the killing curse at Voldemort and Peter Pettigrew after watching them kill my soulmate."
James crushed their daughter to his chest, hoping that if he held her long enough, he could somehow erase all of the pain and suffering she had felt. It had been painful to recount, and harry buried her face into the crook between her father's shoulder and neck.
No one should have to go through that, James thought, especially not a seventeen year old. He pledged he wouldn't let anything bad happen to his daughter ever again, for as long as he should live.
James and Lily spent a half an hour just holding their middle child, and assuring her that they didn't blame her, didn't fault her at all, and even admitted they might have done the same in her situation. Harry had never had this before. She had been close to Severus, the Weasleys, Dumbledore, and Narcissa, but they had never been parents, more like uncles or aunts. This total love, having two people who just wanted her to be safe and happy, was an experience that Harry relished.
There were, of course, still holes in her parents' knowledge that they would want filled in, but they both recognized that now was not the time.