Chapter 28
Fate gently steepled his fingers, luminous eyes taking in the sight of the Game board before him. "Well then," was all he said.
His opponent, Time, apparently unable to know when to stop competing and in an attempt to beat the other deity in who could say less, merely responded, "Yes."
"You only have one more clean-up move, did you see?"
Time snorted. "I have been playing this Game just as long as you have. I think I see by now when I only have one more move left."
Fate's fingers, still in a pyramid, began to rhythmically tap against one other as he hummed lightly. "So go ahead. Roll a three so you can put them back in their rightful time."
"And what if I don't roll a three, O Wise One? What will that do to your Game plan?" There was, perhaps, a hint of mocking in his tone.
"You won't. For my last move I weighted the dice."
After Harry had told his fellow seventh years the truth it had become… awkward. Not that that was anybody's fault, exactly. It just sort of happened. There weren't any preexisting social norms about how you act around your son who is the same age as you and from the future, after all. Lily had tried valiantly for a few moments to chat with Harry like normal after he had retold the story of their appearance in the past, but in the end, what could she do? She was a mother who couldn't embarrass her son around his friends, and he was a child who couldn't rebel against his parents. The last thing Harry had heard as he left the dormitory to find some solitude (after Hermione had replaced the glamours of course), was Lily murmuring, "Hang the parenting books, James. I'm not allowing you to read a single one. Strive to develop a friendship with your child my arse."
He had been alone now for almost an hour, or so he thought that was what it meant when the sun had moved just so across the horizon. He never had become a good judge of time though, not in all his wanderings. Harry considered, briefly, that it must be almost time for dinner to start and that he should maybe head in when a figure sat down gingerly beside him.
"Harry…" it began. It was James. Harry said nothing, not sure if he wanted his silence to be encouraging or not. "Harry, I was just wondering…. Am I- I mean, I just… Am I a good dad?"
Whatever Harry had been expecting, that wasn't it. He was floored, flabbergasted, flummoxed even. How was he to respond to that? There was a small sort of crushing sensation in his chest when he realized he couldn't answer that. Not really. What did he know about the father James had been? One year olds are notorious for not retaining memories other than those pesky traumatizing ones of course.
James pulled his knees up towards his chest and brought his clenched hands to rest between them. "I knew it," he muttered dejectedly. "You know, they always told me I'd turn into my old man. I always promised I'd never be the kind of father he was. Not that he's bad, you know. He's a damn decent man, and I know it. It's just, well, he's quite old now. We don't have much in common. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…" He trailed off, as if he remember that, since he wasn't a father quite yet, he wasn't sure what he didn't mean to do, exactly.
The crushing sensation in Harry's chest grew a little more. He hated that he was just sitting there listening to James agonize about something he had never lived to become. Something he might not have become even had he lived. "James…" He began quietly, and then stopped. What could he say to comfort the man beside him? What could he do to prove that he loved him, even if he couldn't answer his question? "Do you know the theory behind a Patronus?" he asked suddenly, remember something that Remus had said in the Room of Requirement.
If James found the seeming non sequitur off putting, he didn't show it. "I know that it depends on what theory you're talking about. Some people have said that the form your Patronus chooses is a symbol of what you like the most about yourself. You know, like you're calling up the best in you to protect you from fear. Like my dad's is a bear, and he's always going on about how strong of a man he is, moral character, blah blah blah. So that would fit. But then there's a slew of people who say, 'No, look here, my Patronus changed into, I dunno, my brother's Patronus form after my brother stopped me from being impaled by disease ridden spears' or something. And they say that their Patroni are now reflecting actual people who have protected them. Why?"
Harry couldn't look at James as he drew out his wand and cast the spell. The figure of Prongs, his father and protector, an embodiment of the man who gave his life to give Harry a bit more time, stood gracefully before them. It nodded its head in a sort of regal greeting to Harry before maneuvering so that it was directly before James. As James stared, open mouthed, it bent its forelegs until their eyes met. For many long, breathless seconds, they stood that way, transfixed by one another, before Prongs softly touched its forehead to James's own and disappeared.
"Wow," was all that James could manage.
"For what it's worth, James," Harry whispered, "I'm sure you were a great father."
"I'm not around anymore, am I?" James responded sadly, suddenly understanding. "I mean, when you're around I won't be. Right? What happened?"
"I don't think I can tell you that." He still couldn't bring himself to meet the other man's eyes.
James hummed slightly in acceptance. "It's okay. I don't need to know. Not really. But… well, whenever I go, I think it'll be okay. I think I'll be glad that I got to know you when you were grown up. Sort of. And, um-" he blushed slightly. Harry knew because he had finally been able to look at him. "-I think I'll be proud of you. Jumping into the middle of Death Eater headquarters and saving lives and everything… you know."
Harry couldn't respond. He couldn't do anything but smile and close his eyes as he finally heard those words.
James and Harry had come to a sort of quiet understanding, and so they didn't talk much during dinner. They sat side by side, content in knowing about the relationships they would or would not have in the future, but left it unacknowledged throughout the meal. Sirius had not come to the same, mature decision.
"Prongslet works, of course, but only if you're willing to lose your identity to Prongs. You know, be forever in your father's shadow and all that. Not a good environment to grow up in, you take my word for it. No, no. What you need is something all your own. Something that says, 'Marauder spawned but not defined!' Or, well, if it could scream it rather than say it, that would be ideal. You don't suppose you'd like a onesie with that written on it, do you? When the time comes? I know calligraphy, you know. What's your animagus? That's how we got ours, or, well, except for Moony, but you know that, right? So go on. We can't name you without knowing."
Harry shook his head and smiled lightly. It was amazing how easily Sirius bounced right back to being himself. "I'm not an animagus."
Sirius's fork clattered to the floor. Remus chuckled. "Now you've done it. You've gone and given him cause to doubt. And he had been so excited about being a godfather and everything."
"You're a Marauder's son and you're not an animagus?! I don't believe it!" Sirius looked positively horrified.
"Of course he's not an animagus," Lily interjected. "He hasn't been seventeen long enough to have learned how to become an animagus and then get licensed… have you?" She glanced at Harry and then around at the four Marauders, who were now all, save Remus, staring intently at their food. Remus was staring intently at the show. Lily narrowed her eyes. "What?"
"Er- well…" Peter began. Sirius stabbed his meatloaf (with a spoon, having not yet recovered his fork) violently, and the resulting clang of utensil on plate brought Peter up short.
There was silence for all of five seconds before James finally groaned. "Oh, all right! You've broken me, woman! I'll confess. Peter, Sirius and I are unregistered animagi. Are you happy now?"
Before she could answer, Sirius broke in with an almost canine whine. "I'm not! I am not happy at all! You're not supposed to tell her that! Do you see this pout?" He pointed a finger at his lips, which he then proceeded to stick out comically far. "This is the pout of an unhappy me!"
"He doesn't care if you're happy," Remus informed him. "It's not your tongue he wants down his throat."
Lily turned as red as her hair and immediately became tenfold times more interested in her meal.
Arnau grinned widely and leaned across the table to Elaina. He whispered, "Point to Remus for embarrassing Lily so much she forgot about the illegal animagi."
Remus took a bow.
"You were awfully quiet at dinner, Harry," Hermione commented as they made their way back to the common room. They had all four left a bit earlier than their friends of the '70s so that they might have some "time traveler alone time", as Ron had called it. To discuss the day.
Harry nodded. "I- James came to talk to me." None of them commented as they allowed him to gather his thoughts. "He knows he's going to die."
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, shocked. "How could you?! That's not something anybody should know!"
"We all know that we're going to die, 'Mione, and we all know it," Ron mumbled, glancing askance at Harry. He sensed something a bit off about his friend and was trying to redirect some of Hermione's ire from Harry to him.
"That's not what I mean, Ron, and you-"
"He asked me if he was a good father," Harry interrupted. He stopped walking to quietly contemplate a portrait of a witch and her two daughters in a garden. "I didn't know what to say, so I showed him my Patronus and let him figure out that he died for me. He said he was proud of me."
They were all silent, watching the portrait now with him. However irritated Hermione may have been at the idea of James knowing that particular piece of the future, she certainly couldn't begrudge Harry having finally heard those words from his father himself, after all those years of other people assuring him that James would be proud.
The atmosphere was taking on a slightly melancholy tint when Ginny, grinning wryly, said, "Gee, Harry. First you show off your Patronus to Remus, then James. Why not buy it a red light so, the next time you want to let somebody ogle it, at least you'll get paid."
"Ginevra!" Ron sputtered, aghast. Harry merely chuckled and pulled her closer to his side.
"You don't think we should, er, I mean-" Hermione began, not paying attention to the siblings.
Ron rolled his eyes, glad of the diversion from what his baby sister had said. "Go ahead and spit it out. We promise not to bite you."
"Not unless she asks for it, eh, Ron?" Ginny giggled, by now far too delighted by Ron's reactions to care about appropriate time and place for Brother Baiting.
Ron's eyes went wide and he glanced between Harry and Ginny, both of whom were trying to look as innocent as humanly possible. "You- you're lucky I ever let the two of you alone together!"
"As I was saying," Hermione interjected pointedly, looking slightly pink. "Harry. You don't think we should wipe their memories, do you? We hadn't ever planned on letting them know who we are, after all."
All color drained from Harry's face at the suggestion. No, no she couldn't! How dare she even suggest that? When, not more than two hours ago, James Potter, his soon to be father, had told him that he was glad that, when he died, he would be able to look back and remember Harry as he would be. And Hermione was going to take that away? No. It wasn't fair, and he wouldn't allow it. He wanted his parents to remember who he was. Wanted them to know that he was okay, and that they should be proud of him. He opened his mouth to say Merlin only knew what (although even Merlin, long dead though he was, could have guessed that whatever he may have said, it wouldn't be kind), when Ron spoke instead.
"No way, 'Mione! Harry's spent all this time trying to help Peter grow a backbone, and you want to suggest Obliviating them all? How would that help your 'change the future' plan?"
Hermione sighed. "Yes. Yes, you're right. I just thought- I don't know. We're not trying to conserve our future lives, I guess, so I really shouldn't care that James knows potentially future altering information."
Ron slung his arm around her shoulder. "If it helps you sleep at night, it probably doesn't matter a bit what any of us say at this point, after the whole Save Fee thing. We've broken up the future we know beyond repair."
"Comforting."
"Harry!" a voice called behind them. "Ginny! Hermione, Ron!" It was Lily, coming up from dinner with the others. "I'm setting up an Exploding Snap Tournament! Winner gets one item from each of the losers at Honeydukes next Hogsmeade weekend; are you in?"
Harry grinned and opened his mouth to reply, when suddenly the edge of his vision swam with blue. It took over, crawling across his line of vision until his parents and their friends disappeared before his wide eyes. He saw nothing but blue. He felt nothing beside him. Not Ginny, nor Ron or Hermione, nor even the floor he previously stood on. He heard nothing but the voice, echoing within his mind without bothering to pass through his ears first. "I apologize for what I'm sure was rotten timing. But, well, you of all people know how these things go. And I do think that Time rather enjoys delivering bad timing. He can be so bitter, it's best to give him a bit of fun, yes?"
And then there was nothing but white.
