"Hey," the two replied monotonously. Everyone was still very much shaken and confused. Sirius was staring at something apparently incredibly interesting on the twentieth tile Harry counted, and James was repeatedly shifting his weight on the cot, running a hand through his hair. Harry nervously took off his glasses, wiped them clean with "Scourgify" and placed them back on.
"I'm sorry," the boy muttered suddenly. The other two looked perplexed.
"Why?" Sirius inquired.
"Er, for this," Harry said louder, gesturing vaguely at the air. "This is all my fault. I'm not sure what happened out there, but now you two could be in danger just because of me. I should just leave..."
James shook his head disbelievingly and placed a comforting hand on his son's, a gesture that Harry was not used to. The Boy Who Lived looked sadly at the hands, then up at his father.
"I don't care," James said sincerely, tightening his grip on Harry's hand a bit. "That wasn't your fault, and I'm just happy you're okay. I don't want you to be in danger Harry, it's my job to protect you."
"And mine," Sirius piped up, smiling slightly. "We would have gladly died for you, Harr-bear." He mockingly tousled his godson's hair, and chuckled when Harry swatted the hand away.
"My hair's horrible enough, thanks," Harry sniggered.
"Hey!" James stated indignantly. "That's Potter hair, Harry, be proud!" He smiled thoughtfully before adding, "And it's true, son, Sirius and I would have given up our lives for you."
Harry tried (and failed dismally) to ignore the lump in his throat and the tears in his eyes. He compromised by staring at the tile like Sirius and acting as if he had a coughing fit.
"You do know that if you die," Harry mumbled casually, "I won't even exist, right?"
James's brows furrowed at first, then reached his hairline when the message had sunk in. "Oh, yeah..."
Sirius, on the other hand, took a bit longer to process that bit of information.
"What d'you mean?" he demanded. "It's not like we're - I don't know, linked or something... And... Ohhh... Right... Blimey, Harry I forgot you're from the future. Sorry."
Harry smiled warmly.
"Still, I'm your father, and I forbid you to ever think about leaving us!" James ordered, flushing a bit. "That is an order, son."
The son in question snorted. "Dad, you're barely seventeen. I'm almost a year older," he said, smirking. "I don't think you can give me the orders."
"...Touche."
Harry quietly debated with himself as James and Sirius exploded simultaneously about Harry's flying skills. He didn't pay much attention, though he heard something about "rolling elephants" and "swimming swine." He nodded and said thanks whenever there was a pause when the boys caught their breath, but otherwise kept silent.
Should he tell them about that strange encounter with Voldemort? If he did, they would panic and fuss over Harry's safety. If he didn't, they wouldn't be on alert. But should he really worry them like that?
"And then you went ZOOM past me, like a hopping daffodil-"
"-That upside down turn you made was like a crying banana peel-"
"-Guys," Harry mumbled, cutting his father off in the midst of another weird simile. "There's something I have to tell you."
James and Sirius immediately shut up, looking curiously at the time traveler. They nodded for him to go on, with big happy smiles on their faces. It was quite a contrast to their earlier awful moods, and Harry found himself unable to break their joy.
"Well, go on," Sirius said after a minute of silence.
Harry's heart beat just a little bit faster. This decision could save their lives - for now, that is, before his first birthday...
"...You guys are awesome," Harry mumbled, and his heart sank a bit. He wanted to tell them, but they were still so carefree and happy. If he told them... Their lives could change drastically.
"We know, kiddo," Sirius said with a smirk, swinging his arm over his best mate's shoulder. "We know."
"You're pretty awesome, too, Harr-bear," James chuckled, tousling Harry's hair again. "Don't ever forget that."
They spent the little time they had left by chucking transfigured pillows at each other. Harry was the best dodger, because of his speedy build. Sirius liked to swat the objects away, like a true Beater. James caught the objects whenever he could, showing off his Chaser skills.
By the time Django walked in again, Sirius's face was covered in pie, James had egg yolk in his hair and Harry's glasses were covered in flour. The three boys were laughing raucously, and the room was in ruins. Django smiled at their antics and fixed everything with a wave of his wand. Bidding goodbye to each other, James and Sirius left for home.
"Let me see that cut again, Mr. Parker," Django instructed.
The cut was now just a regular cut, though a little too raw for its own good. Django frowned at it, then made a quick note on his parchment. He prodded it with his wand a couple of times, but nothing happened.
"I would very much like to find out who hexed you, Mr. Parker," the healer said, still examining the cut.
"You and me both," Harry said with a small sheepish smile. He was getting much better at lying, though he wasn't sure what to think of that. On one hand, it could save his life. On the other, it was still lying.
"Well, make yourself at home," Django said, heading for the door. "You should be healed enough to leave tomorrow, but I want to check on that cut one last time. Good night, Harvey."
"G'night," the younger man said as the other closed the door.
Harry was just about to lie down when it happened.
His scar seared as if on fire, and his vision went black. He heard someone laughing but no one was around. The pain blinded him, he felt something cold fall against his cheek. The laughing man sounded like a maniac, and Harry felt like one too. Something was definitely off here...
And then the pain subsided, and Harry found himself on the floor, breathing heavily. His shirt stuck uncomfortably to his chest; he was drenched in cold sweat. Once Harry had picked himself up, the door suddenly burst open.
"Are you alright, dear?" said a nervous looking witch. "I - I heard some sort of laughter... I thought maybe... Well, are you alright?"
"Y-yeah," Harry huffed shakily. "N-no problem, I just remembered something... something incredibly funny..."
The witch looked doubtful, but nevertheless left him alone. Harry knew what she was thinking - the cut had somehow addled his brain. Of course, Harry knew the truth. The Voldemort of the past was insanely happy, and Harry had no idea why.
Apparently, the scar - the connection was there, even in the past. This could be a problem.
Slowly, Harry lowered himself down on the cot. Voldemort... What was he so happy about? What could have possibly happened that elated the Dark Lord so much?
With those disturbing thoughts in mind, he let sleep slowly engulf him.
~o~
"Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure?"
"Yes, my lord. All the occurences have been thoroughly compensated. Nothing could go wrong."
A cry of pain shot through the darkness, and then shrill, manic cackles.
~o~
"Harrrrrrrrrrrryyyy," a voice penetrated the silence in Harry's mind. Sirius rolled the "R" like a Spaniard, and clapped his hands twice as if he was doing the flamenco. "Buenas dias, mi amigo!"
"Hurr...durr...surr," Harry mumbled, burying his face even deeper into his lumpy pillow.
"Wake up!" James hissed, shoving his son gently. "We're baaa-aaa-aaa-aaa-aaa-aaa-aaa-aaa-ck!"
"I can tell without you damaging my eardrums, thanks," Harry muttered, rubbing his eyes. "I wanna get back to sleep... nowww... huurrrggheer deerrghhhh leerrrggghhh..."
As Harry's head lowered back down on the pillow, Sirius shouted, "NOOO!" and ran in slow motion at the poor unsuspecting boy. He jumped dramatically, waving his hands foolishly in the air with surprising resemblance to a squirrel under ninja attack.
And then he landed.
"AAGH!"
"Shi- ack!"
"PADFOOT!"
James was doubled up, clutching his ribs in laughter. Sirius was thrown to the floor with Harry's surprising strength. Harry was now wide awake and breathing deeply, for Sirius had knocked all the air out of his lungs.
But Harry was determined for a good rest. He slumped back down on his cot, face down, and closed his eyes.
"Aw, c'mon, Harry," James said, taking a seat on the edge of his son's bed. "Wake up, kiddo, Professor Dumbledore wants to see you today, I think... He said so."
Harry raised his head a few inches and opened one eye, giving his father a curious look. "Dumbledore? What for?"
"I dunno, you tell me, kiddo," James said with a shrug. "Probably about where to keep you in the meantime, because term starts day after tomorrow, and there is no way I'm leaving you all alone."
Harry smiled at his father's words and shook his drowsiness away. He sat up straight and absently rubbed his scar as he reached for his glasses and put them on.
"Does it hurt?" Sirius asked rather rashly, giving Harry a curious look.
James shot his best mate a glare and looked at Harry symphathetically. He placed his hand on his son's, concern written all over his face (yet again another gesture Harry was not used to).
"N-no, it doesn't hurt," Harry said he added as an afterthought, more to himself really, "Not right now, anyway."
This, of course, deepened Sirius's curiousity and James's concern. Sirius tilted his head to the right like a wondering child. James's brows were furrowed as he thought about his son's reply.
"Not right now?" Sirius repeated, all with the stupendous lack of tact.
"Er, yeah," Harry replied, avoiding the question. He hurriedly changed the subject. "So, er, what d'you think Dumbledore's gonna have me do, then? Just lay around in Hogsmeade?"
This shook James out of his sad reverie. "Maybe," he said thoughtfully.
"Maybe not," Sirius added, dramatically injecting an air of mystery into his voice so that he reminded Harry of Professor Sybill Trelawney.
"Maybe you'll be an assistant caretaker to Filch," James thought aloud.
Harry looked at him dubiously. "There is no way I am helping him and his bloody annoying cat."
James looked like he could burst in pride. "I knew you really are my son!" He mockingly wiped faux tears from his eyes and huggged Harry, who chuckled and said, "D'you think Dumbledore would make me do that?"
"Nah, he isn't evil," Sirius said. Then he added his air of mystery again. "Or is he?"