000
Against My Nature
Newt/Harry, Timetravel Shenanigans, Canon Divergent
His plan was to avoid changing the timeline. He knew he wouldn't be able to resist if the opportunity presented itself. So he fled to Africa, where opportunity found him instead.
000
Chapter Twelve
He still had no idea what wood this thing was made from, but as the last charm fell from his lips, he felt it hum under his fingertips, a kind of pent-up energy just beneath the surface that he could feel a mirror of within his own bones. It took him a moment to realise that he was finished in all honesty. Sat there with the broom in his lap thinking what next, only to realise there was no next.
Nothing beyond testing it out anyway.
Harry surged to his feet, Newt squawking in surprise next to him as he did so.
"Harry?" he asked, even as the Gryffindor bounced a few paces forward and set his broom down. It was an ugly thing, unvarnished, unsmoothed, the shaft was a little knobbly, and the brush comprised of whatever sticks Harry had picked up while wondering through the forest, all tied together with a fresh green strip of bamboo. It did not look sky worthy in the slightest but as Harry stood beside it and held a hand out, he didn't care in the slightest about its looks, it felt like a racer under his palms. And he couldn't wait to taste the sky again.
"Up!" he commanded, and the ugly bastard leaped into his fingers like a loyal pet dog, vibrating in his hand as Harry grinned wildly and swung his leg up –
"Harry you can't be ser- " Newt began in alarm a breath before the Gryffindor was seated and the broom ROCKETED into the sky. He yelled as he shielded his face from the blast of air – Harry's joyful shout fading as he looked upwards to where the broom and his stupid suicidally crazy husband were winging through the sky.
He had never seen a broom so fast.
Harry could feel his blood singing in his veins as the cold wind lashed his cheeks and forced his eyes to slit against force of it, it felt like riding fucking lightning!
He twisted in place, the broom overbalancing and sending him into a rolling tumbling head over heels dive – merlin it was so sensitive! He shifted again, and it bucked under his hands as the whole thing swooped and levelled out smoothly.
It was the work of a second to transfigure a pair of goggles from a scrap of paper in his pocket, and then Harry bent low on his broom, grinning fiercely.
Time to test the true limitations of his beautiful ugly bastard of a broom!
000
Newt whined in almost pain, gripping his wand in both hands as he watched the small black speck in the sky dive, swoop, flip, twist, drop, and arc through the air faster than anything he had ever seen before.
Every now and again his ears would catch the faint sound of a scream, and felt his stomach drop down to his icy cold toes in terror.
Had he even cast any safety charms on himself before going up there?!
000
Harry was having the time of his god – damn – fucking – life!
He couldn't breathe!
His ugly magnificent bastard of a broom was a work of fucking art and he would fight anyone who said otherwise!
He roared with laughter as he bounced up in his seat, balancing carefully as he got his feet under him and then stood up.
Using his feet he fucking surfed his broom through the sky, and then jumped off it with a gleeful laugh, free falling through the air before summoning it back into his hand, and flashing into the steepest dive he had gone into yet, the world screaming up at him a breath before he hauled on the shaft, and lanced into the trees.
Pupils narrowed to pin-pricks, his every miniscule twitch controlling this hellbeast of a broom as he dodged through hanging vines, oversweeping branches, spiderwebs, swinging monkeys, and flapping bird wings.
He laughed fiercely as with a single kick of his leg he was skybound once more, rising up into the air like an arrow.
Oh, why had he ever stopped flying?
In the distance he could see jagged mountains, and a familiar flicker of scarlet and gold amongst its peaks. Phoenix nests. He wondered if Newt had ever seen a phoenix up close. Maybe he would have to recommend they travel this way?
He laughed when he spotted a flash of fire on his left, one of the fire birds flickering into existence beside him, it trilled curiously as it swooped around him and he trilled back, a sound he recalled Fawkes making more than once when he was happy. The Phoenix sang excitedly and Harry flicked his broom into a dizzying dive, the phoenix falling with him.
Flying with a phoenix, now that was something he'd never done before!
The two ducked and wove through the sky in dizzying spirals and patterns, trilling and chirruping at one another, several more phoenix flashed in to join the aerial dancing, and Harry laughed so hard he almost cried as he had to slow to a smooth glide. Gods, he missed Fawkes, and Hogwarts, and just... everyone. He lifted his goggles to swipe at his damp eyes as the birds all fluttered in around him, one of the smaller ones landing on his shoulders with a concerned croon as it tried to get a look at his leaking eyes.
"I'm fine, beautiful, I'm fine," he assured the bird softly, reaching up and stroking its chest. It trilled in surprise and confusion, hopping on his shoulder before puffing up and peeping happily under his continued stroking. He guessed they'd never encountered humans before, or at least, never been touched by one before. Harry laughed as another bird landed on his other shoulder, wings buffeting his head. Fairly soon he was smothered in phoenix, young and old, all of them crooning and trilling as they demanded their own affection. Harry was having one hell of a time trying to control his broom as several of the larger swan sized avians hopped up and down its length, and his back.
How could anyone be sad with this lot climbing all over him?
His eyes were still leaking, but he laughed happily as he chattered to them, and if one or two of the curious birds actually drank his tears, he didn't comment when they clustered a little closer, piping at him.
000
Newt paced up and down the camp in agitation, every now and again raising the binoculars back to his eyes and scanning the skies for Harry. He could see him as a distant speck, but for some reason he had turned red only a little while ago, too far away to see clearly, he was just... hovering there. Doing nothing.
Had something happened?
He chewed his lower lip in concern, sincerely hoping that all that red wasn't blood.
000
"You think so?" the Gryffindor asked, lounging on his broom still smothered in phoenix.
The smallest of them, a very forward little lady piped knowingly, bobbing up and down. Behind her several of the other phoenix trilled in agreement, one of them even pecking at his left hand little finger in reprimand. Harry grimaced and tapped that one on the beak with a grumpy chirp of his own – the others all chittered in amusement at him.
"I guess," he grumped thoughtfully, "But I can't help but worry all the same. I like him, I do. But he was never supposed to – he isn't for me. He's for Tina. It isn't just his future I'd be stealing, it would be hers as well," he explained with a heavy sigh of grief.
He got pecked again, and all the phoenix started trilling and singing. Harry huffed as he felt their magic interweave with his own, a hot flush of bravery and happiness thrumming through him.
"Cut it out you lot," he complained lazily, unable to muster the irritation to actually snap at them. The littlest of them chirped and made a heavily exaggerated gesture that was almost identical to the way that Hedwig used to 'roll her eyes' at him. Harry scoffed in amusement, laughing and almost dumping her off his stomach. "Yes I am ridiculous, doesn't mean I don't have a point though," he pointed out with a grin.
The largest phoenix piped a put upon trill and cuffed him with a wing.
God, what was he doing even? Getting relationship advice from birds?
He squawked as the little madam pecked his chin and trilled at him, fluttering her wings, and piping a song that made his insides shivery. "I am not going to just kiss him out of the blue," he objected which set off trilling cries and songs of encouragement that turned his blood to fire and made his head dizzy. These birds were going to be the death of him, he decided even as he laughed and covered his eyes with a hand.
"How did we even get onto this subject?" he asked and received several curious trills, and one very smug chirp from the little madam as she puffed up proudly in his lap. "Yeah, figures it would be you, huh?" he asked, rubbing her fluffy cheek in amusement. He fell silent as he stared up at the sky, feeling the heat of their feathery bodies seeping through his clothing before he sighed deeply.
"Hey... If... if I did go for it... If I... changed the timeline... What would happen, I mean, would it ruin everything? Would the people I love get hurt?" he asked, peering down at the cluster of phoenix all watching him carefully. No doubt someone would think him mad to be asking such questions of birds, but Harry had always had a strange relationship with Fawkes, while the phoenix was Dumbledore's familiar, the bird had cared for Harry a great deal more than the headmaster had. In the following years since he left Hogwarts, the more information he learned about the magnificent birds, the more he realised that his relationship with the headmaster's familiar had been unique. It had been just as complex as his one with Dumbledore himself, but... more benign, kinder. So for Harry, asking such a question of the wild phoenix was just... if there was any being that could answer, it was probably them, right?
The little madam fluffed up and trilled aggressively, she hopped up and down angrily on his chest before piping something that was most definitely negative.
Harry watched her for a tense moment, "They won't be hurt?" he asked breathlessly.
She piped negatively, hopping in place again, and Harry felt...
The weight in his chest was gone.
He felt weak and shaky with relief as suddenly he could breathe again. He sobbed, a hand coming up to cover his mouth, to stifle the noise even as the phoenix all trilled in concern, fluttering and clustering closer.
They were okay, they would be okay, they would be fine.
Harry choked on a laugh.
000
Newt jumped to his feet, half mad with worry as he saw Harry finally sweep in to land in their little camp.
"Harry! Are you alright? What happened, you were gone for so long! What were you thinking, did you even apply any safet- " Harry cut him off, dropping his broom to the ground and catching Newt's face in both hands, before standing on tiptoe to kiss him silent.
The Hufflepuff froze, blinking rapidly as the Gryffindor pulled away, and smiled gently at him before letting go.
"Whu – " he blurted as Harry swept past him, summoning his broom back into his hand, and then descended into the suitcase.
What – what just happened?
Newt blinked rapidly as he scrambled after Harry, watching him in abject confusion. He was... it was almost like immediately after they dealt with the poachers camp, he was loose, languid, relaxed in a way Newt had never seen him before. Happy. He didn't understand. What on earth had happened earlier?Had it been the flying?
"Harry, are you... feeling well?" he asked anxiously, hovering in the background as the Gryffindor gathered a few of his gardening tools.
He laughed lightly, "Yes actually. A lot better than before," he admitted, smiling down at the broomstick in front of him, his gaze far away. "I... spotted a phoenix nest while I was flying," he explained, smiling fondly, "They decided to join me, and we flew together for a bit. I... got a few answers talking to them. Even wild phoenix are very intelligent, and intimately connected to magic, they're able to understand complex thought processes that other creatures can't."
Newt swallowed, fascinated, and frightened all at once.
"What did they tell you?" he asked hesitantly.
Harry's fingers stilled on the gardening implements as he stared ahead, seeing something that wasn't there, his face soft in a way that Newt had never seen it before.
"My family are safe."
000
Things changed, slowly at first, but they did.
Harry felt free in a way he never had before, not since Hagrid told him about being a wizard. Those scant few days where he realised he could escape the Dursleys, when he knew he wasn't a freak, that his parents loved him, and that every poisonous lie that his aunt dripped into his ears was wrong. Back before he willingly, happily, walked into the cage that Dumbledore had so carefully lined and lit to make it look like a haven from the abuse of his family.
It was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, leaving nothing but a distant ache, a phantom of a memory. Everything felt brighter, lighter, his insides were shivery, and he felt a little queasy with it all.
He was probably frightening Newt, but – Harry only laughed a little as he told Bubbles and Blossom about the situation. He would get over it, probably. Harry was just a little high on his own happiness, his own relief, right now. He would come down eventually. Until then, he just revelled in the freedom, in the reassurance.
His family were safe, no matter what he did.
The thought of it was dizzying, heady even.
He chirped and crooned at the animals in the case, unable to sit still, so he tended and fussed over them. Newt would get over his confusion and hesitation eventually, until then, Harry contented himself with teaching the billywigs to spell out rude words in mid-air for the promise of fruit.
It wasn't just the realisation that his family were safe from whatever his fuck-ups in this timeline were, it was also the relief of knowing that no one knew he existed here. No Lord Captain Peverell, no Boy Who Lived, Man Who Conquered, Gryffindor Golden Boy, Saviour, Chosen One, no Youngest Auror – no paperwork, he huffed a laugh as he realised that one. He'd left a stack as high as his elbow on his desk the last time he had been at the office. Ron was going to...
Think he was dead.
Harry sat down heavily, his good mood slowly dissolving.
He might be in a better position right now, in a timeline that didn't have the same shit shovelled onto him as before. But it was also one where he had none of the friends and family he used to have, and they – they lost him.
Teddy would grow up without his godfather. Molly lost another son. Ron and Hermione lost their bestfriend. George lost another brother. Andy lost one of her few remaining family members. Kingsley lost his friend and most trusted auror. And none of them would know how, why, or where. Harry didn't even remember the day that brought him here, had Ron been with him? Had Neville? Were they somewhere in this timeline, hiding, or had they been lucky and escaped? Had Harry gone alone to whatever cluster fuck that brought him here?
He dragged a hand through his hair with a heavy sigh.
Well, there went his good mood. He was depressed again.
"Harry?" Newt again. It seemed he had stopped hiding in his shed after being creeped out by Harry's rarely displayed good mood. He sounded concerned, must be wondering what brought it suddenly crashing down. "Is everything alright?"
The Gryffindor snorted a laugh, "Decidedly not. Don't worry Newt, just... homesickness. Hit me a little out of the blue," he assured the Hufflepuff as he leaned back on his palms and kicked his feet out.
There was a moment of silence, and then Newt sat down next to him. Harry tried not to jump because he hadn't even heard the man coming closer, like Harry he had learned how to walk silently, even in those big heavy work boots of his. Harry glanced at the scruffy young man, and had to smile a little, his hair was getting a bit too long again, his shirt was dirty, untucked, the collar was unbuttoned, the sleeves were rolled up, and there were fresh cuts and scratches on his hands.
"Do you want to talk about it, the future you left behind?" Newt asked gently. "I... hadn't wanted to ask for fear of making you sad but, perhaps it may help?" he offered gently, hopefully.
Harry stared at him for a moment before smiling, "Alright." He looked up at the ceiling, at the bubble-environments for the various aquatic creatures above them.
"My parents were Lily and James Potter. Mum was a muggleborn, brightest witch of her age, and dad wasn't too shabby either. I was born on the tail-end of the First Rise of the Dark Lord Voldemort, the half-blood son of a squib Heir of Slytherin. We were in hiding because Dumbledore is really bad at security charms."
000
Newt never thought he could hate Professor Dumbledore, not after everything the man had done for him. But listening to Harry's past, listening to Tom Riddle's past, to what his mentor had done, and then hearing about his connection to Grindelwald, the death of his sister, his fear in confronting his old lover. Newt didn't – it felt almost like a betrayal, and the hurt he felt as a teenager warred with his anger on Harry's behalf.
The two of them had moved into his shed to more comfortable seats, and cups of tea. Harry leaned against him, head on his shoulder, tucked under the Hufflepuff's arm as he talked about the war that broke out when he was fourteen; about the mental and physical torture the Ministry of Magic forced onto him at fifteen; the careful grooming he received in his sixth year, though he didn't know what it was and never used the term himself, Newt knew training, knew grooming, when it was described to him. And he felt sick to his stomach when he realised that Professor Dumbledore, the same man that argued so vehemently against his expulsion, who managed to swing only a home suspension for his final six months, was the same man that manipulated his husband into believing that his life was inconsequential in the face of 'the greater good', Merlin's beard, his skin crawled to hear those words from the Gryffindor's mouth, to know they were first spoken by a man he admired so much. A man who groomed his husband into being suicidal, into being a martyr for the Greater Good. Even to this day when faced with certain situations where the needs of the many outweighed his own, Harry would without hesitation choose to kill himself first. He wouldn't even try to think of another avenue.
Newt didn't react, he couldn't, it was only the many long years of creature handling that prevented it. Animals were very sensitive to mood, body language, tone, and even facial expressions, Harry was as well, and the last thing Newt wanted to do was make him clam up. So he did nothing, and just continued to listen, the only sign of his anger being the white knuckled grip he had on his cup.
Dumbledore dying, the Ministry being taken over, going on the run, dragon abuse at Gringotts, escaping on the back of one (dragon riding, he shouldn't be surprised by anything his husband got up to anymore), the Deathly Hallows, actually being related to them hence being legally able to use the name 'Peverell', obtaining two of the magical objects, Hogwarts being destroyed.
Harry dying.
The Gryffindor laughed croakily as Newt buried his face in his hair, unable to keep his calm anymore. "Hey, I'm still here. I got better," he said soothingly as he wound an arm around the Hufflepuff's waist. "I'm fine."
"No you aren't. You were manipulated into thinking suicide was your only option and its still messing you up today. You're not fine," Newt muttered furiously in Polish, fairly certain it was a language Harry didn't understand.
The auror didn't comment, merely huffed a laugh against his neck, and carried on telling his story. About how the sacrificial magic in his death had protected everyone from any of the curses the Death Eaters had been throwing, how he duelled and defeated Voldemort, and everyone began to pick up the pieces.
His brilliant muggleborn bestfriend, Hermione, finding her parents again, and then reforming the entire Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, championing House Elf rights, werewolf rights. How Ron and Neville joined Harry in becoming the youngest aurors in History and completely overhauling the entire justice system of England, rooting out corruption in its every form, and hunting down all the former supporters of the Dark Lord. Harry eventually breaking up on amiable terms with his girlfriend Ginny, how the war had changed them both, and no matter how much they would continue to care for one another, it just wasn't love anymore. That thinking was a little alien to Newt who had been raised amongst purebloods that believed that love was secondary to marriage, but he found that he rather liked it. Raising his godson Teddy, son of his cousin Tonks and his father's werewolf bestfriend Remus, both dead in the war. Living with George to make sure he didn't do anything silly in his depression after his twin Fred was taken too soon, trying not to kill George himself for constantly pranking him. Of misty Luna Lovegood going on her own travelling adventures looking for magical creatures, and meeting the grandson of a certain famous mythozoologist. Newt blushed furiously at the sly smirk Harry flashed him over that.
"And then... I ended up here. Apparated into Diagon Alley with a shattered skull, not knowing a damn thing. Some medi-witch saw to me, healed the damage, and that's when I saw a newspaper and promptly apparated myself under a rock in Africa. And the rest, they say, is history," he finally finished, taking a mouthful of his tea with a heavy sigh.
"They probably all think I'm dead," he admitted softly, "It just kind of hit me earlier when I was thinking about the huge pile of paperwork I hadn't finished yet. Ron's going to have to do it and... yeah. It just hit me."
Newt pulled a face, and gathered him a little closer.
"And... what made you decide that..." he trailed off, not exactly sure how to articulate his question because the day before Harry had been all but ignoring his existence, willing to kill himself than get close. And then suddenly, he's not only initiating a kiss, but letting Newt touch and hug him as much as he liked, even leaning into it where as before he would be stiff and uncomfortable, relaxing only in his sleep.
Harry turned his head and nuzzled his forehead against Newt's head, "I asked the phoenix if changing things here would hurt anyone back home. They said no. I can't kill them, however accidentally, by doing anything here," he explained with a giddy sigh of relief.
Newt froze, feeling his stomach drop down to his toes.
That had been what Harry was worried about all these months since they'd met? That any changes he had created would inadvertently kill everyone he knew and loved? He had said before he didn't want to ruin anything, that the ripples would – Newt hadn't realised it would be lethal. No wonder, absolutely no wonder he had fought so hard against him for so long.
"Harry, I owe you an apology," the Hufflepuff choked out, drawing back from the now confused Gryffindor. "I had not taken the true depths of your concerns regarding the damages any changes to the timeline may create. I am so sorry for not – "
Harry reached up and placed a hand over his mouth, looking amused. "I didn't exactly tell you, now did I? You don't have to apologise."
Newt frowned, pulling his hand away, "But I do. Harry, truly, I – I was most rude and, I ignored your personal feelings and desires in pursuit of a relationship you were initially completely against, and dismissed your reasons and concerns without fully trying to understand them. I owe you an apology. I – I thought that because our marriage was bonded via magic that our coming together was a foregone conclusion, and was confused when you seemed to fight it so hard. That is no excuse for ignoring your wishes, and forcing my affections onto you. Harry, I am so sorry," he apologised earnestly, absolutely ashamed of himself. If his mother had any idea of his behaviour – she would probably approve thinking about it, but Theseus would hang him out of a third floor window by his socks if he ever found out.
That Harry probably hadn't even realised that what Newt was doing to him was so wrong just made this all the worse, because he had never been given choice, and all of his decisions were taken out of his hands and – Newt felt wretched.
Harry leaned back against the desk, tea in his lap as he eyed the Hufflepuff carefully, "You're going to have to explain this magically bound marriage thing to me. I figured it was just a legal thing, spells so the Ministry can automatically file marriage certificates and the like. But the way you talk about it... I'm getting the impression I have another gap in my knowledge regarding wizarding culture," he admitted with an unhappy grimace.
Newt nodded, swallowing dryly against his throat.
"Yes... Yes I – yes. Well, you see, the first thing to take into mind is that Magic is alive, and has a will all of her own."
0000
And FINALLY~
Chapter twelve finished, major hurdles overcome, hopefully the next few chapters will have the fluff you've all been howling for.