Breakfast

That was where Neville and Al found them ten minutes later: Both sitting with their backs leaning against the cold stone wall, her head leaning on his shoulder and his head leaning on hers. They were no longer holding hands as such, but their little fingers were still intertwined. If Neville thought it was unusual, he didn't show it.

"Harry, I know the password! Guess what it is? I'm actually going to be able to remember it for once -" He waved the stunted little cactus he had shown them on the train. "Mimbulus mimbletonia!"

"Correct," the Fat Lady said, swinging her portrait open like a deal, revealing a circular hole in the wall behind. Neville climbed through first, followed by Ginny - after Harry had pulled her off the floor, that is. When Al hesitated, Harry stepped forward and said gently, "Bud?"

"I'm fine," Al said shakily. "Just, uh ... This is weird. Right?"

Harry shrugged. "After this summer, I think the word 'weird' has lost all meaning."

The sound of Al's laugh made Harry smile - really smile - for the first time since he'd woken up in this nightmare. Behind them, Ginny leaned out of the portrait hole and said, "Hey, boys. You coming in, or what?"

The Gryffindor common room looked as welcoming as ever, a cosy circular tower room full of dilapidated squashy armchairs and rickety old tables. A fire was crackling merrily in the grate and a few people were warming their hands by it before going up to their dormitories. On the other side of the room, Fred, George and James were pinning something up on the noticeboard. Harry waved goodnight to the twins and headed straight for the door to the boys' dormitories. Neville, Al and James followed along behind him.

Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan had reached the dormitory first and were in the process of covering the walls beside their beds with posters and photographs. They had been talking as Harry pushed open the door but stopped abruptly the moment they saw him. He wondered for a moment whether they had been talking about him, then decided he really didn't care.

"Hi, guys," he said, moving across to his own trunk and opening it. To James, who was standing idly in the doorway, he added, "Your bed's over by the window, Jamie. Between Ron and Neville."

"We were wondering why there's an extra bed," said Dean, who was putting on a pair of pyjamas adorned with the emblem of his favourite muggle soccer team. "I'm Dean. That's Seamus."

"Uh, hey," James said, approaching his bed slightly awkwardly. "I'm James Prewett. That's my brother, Al."

Still standing in the doorway, Al gave them a silent wave.

"We've just transferred in from, uh, Ilvermorny."

"Right," Dean said.

Trying his best to create conversation, James said, "So, uh. Have a good holiday?"

"Yeah, it was okay," Dean said. "Better than Seamus', anyway. He was just telling me."

"Why, what happened, Seamus?" Neville asked as he placed his Mimbulus mimbletonia tenderly on his bedside cabinet.

Seamus did not answer immediately; he was making rather a meal of ensuring that his posted of the Kenmare Kestrels Qudditch team was quite straight. With his back still turned to the room, he said, "Me mam didn't want me to come back."

"What?" Harry said, pausing in the act of pulling off his robes.

"She didn't want me to come back to Hogwarts."

Seamus still didn't look over at Harry as he pulled his own pyjamas out of his trunk.

"But - why?" James asked, astonished.

"Well," Seamus said, buttoning his pyjamas shirt. "I suppose ... because of Harry, actually."

"What d'you mean?" Al asked quickly.

"Well," Seamus said, "she ... er ... well, it's not just Harry. It's Dumbledore, too ..."

"She believes the Daily Prophet," Harry said calmly. "She thinks I'm a liar and Dumbledore's an old fool."

Seamus finally looked up at him. "Yeah. Something like that."

James and Al both stared at their father, their jaws dropped open. Harry, however, said nothing. Almost too calmly, he placed his wand on his bedside table, pulled off his robes, folded them and placed them into his trunk, and pulled on his pyjamas. Silently, Al and James shared a look.

"Uh, Harry?" Al asked tentatively. "What are they talking about?"

Dean threw him a look. "You're not seriously saying you haven't seen the Prophet all summer?"

Al shrugged. "We don't put much stock in it in our family."

"And this is why," Harry muttered. When Neville threw him an enquiring glance, he shook his head. He sighed, then said to Al, "Your dormitory is on the floor below us. Look for the kid named Colin -"

"- Creevey. Yeah, m - uh, Ginny - already said," Al nodded. To James he said, "I'll see you in the morning, then."

"Yeah," James said, just a hint of something akin to sadness in his voice. "Bright and early, I guess."

"G'night, Al," Harry said with a smile.

"Night," Al repeated, taking his leave with his hands stuffed awkwardly into the pockets of his robes.

As he watched Al leave and sat down on the side of his bed, Harry found himself pulling off his glasses and rubbing his temples tiredly again. Behind him, however, Seamus was asking, "Look ... what did happen that night when ... you know, when ... with Cedric Diggory and all?"

Harry found himself immensely glad Al had left before this particular topic came up. He also noted Seamus sounded both nervous and eager. At the bed opposite Harrys, Dean - who had been bending over his trunk trying to retrieve a slipper - went oddly still in the way that told everyone he was listening very hard. Without really meaning to, Harry found himself losing his cool.

"What are you asking me for?" he retorted. "Just read the Daily Prophet like your mother, why don't you? That'll tell you all you need to know."

James' shocked whisper of, "Dad!" went unnoticed by the others. They were far too shocked at Harry's little outburst to register the new kid had even spoken.

"Don't you have a go at my mother," Seamus snapped.

"I'll have a go at anyone who calls me a liar."

"Don't talk to me like that!"

"I'll talk to you how I want," Harry said, his temper rising to the point that he grabbed his wand off the nightstand. "If you've got a problem sharing a dormitory with me, go and ask McGonagall if you can be moved ... stop your mummy worrying -"

"Leave my mother out fo this, Potter!"

At the same time as James, who was sitting up in bed, said, "That's enough," Ron appeared in the doorway and asked, "What's going on?"

The scene in front of him was certainly something to be seen. Harry was kneeling on his bed with his want pointing at Seamus, who was standing on the opposite side of the room with his fists raised.

"He's having a go at my mother!" Seamus yelled.

"What?" said Ron. "Harry wouldn't do that. We met your mother, we liked her ..."

"That's before she started believing every word the stinking Daily Prophet writes about me!" Harry said at the top of his voice.

"Oh," Ron said, comprehension dawning across his freckled face. "Oh ... right."

"Hey, Harry," James said tentatively, pulling himself out of bed and reaching for his dressing gown. "Let's go for a walk. Take a few minutes to, uh ... to calm down."

Slowly, Harry found himself lowering his wand. By the time he could think straight again, James was standing by his bedside holding his father's dressing gown. Tentatively, Harry pulled himself onto his feet and put his glasses back on. "Uh, yeah," he said. "A walk sounds ... that sounds good."

James ushered his father back through the door and into the winding staircase as Seamus and Ron continued yelling at one another in the dormitory behind them. They walked down the stairs, past the fourth-year's dormitory - where Al was happily chatting away with Colin Creevey - and back into the common room, which was now, mercifully, deserted.

James sank into his favourite armchair by the fireplace, his legs draped casually over one of the arms. He watched closely as his father sat down on the floor, his back against the wall once more.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," Harry whispered.

"See what? You losing your cool?" James asked.

With a sigh, Harry lamented, "I suppose it wasn't the first time."

"No. But I've gotta say - very refreshing not being the one on the receiving end for once."

His father laughed humourlessly. "Give it time."

"Is that a threat, or a promise?"

"Eh. I bit of both, I guess," Harry said with a shrug. He ran a hand tiredly over his face. "God, I'd forgotten how riled up I used to get. It wasn't - I'm not ... Oh, never mind."

"You never talk about it, dad," James said quietly. "Don't you think it might help to get it all out in the open?"

Harry shook his head. "No."

"You sure about that?"

Harry sighed again, but smiled sadly at his eldest child. "There's so much you don't know, James. There's even more that I didn't know yet. I just ... well, I'd hoped you'd never find out."

"And now?"

Harry shrugged again. "Now, I suppose it's inevitable."

When Harry awoke the next morning, it took him a few moments to realise where he was. He'd only just become accustomed to waking up in the dark, depressing bedroom he and Ron had shared with the boys over the summer, after all. Being in a sublimely comfortable bed in a room bathed in a bright morning sunlight was jarring. He sat up suddenly with his wand in his hand, ready to attack whatever was causing the bright light - until, of course, he spotted Neville opening the curtains on the window beside his bed.

In the two seconds it took for Harry to regain his composure, he found himself dropping his wand and saying, "Oh. Neville. It's you."

Neville took a couple of steps back, not quite sure what was happening.

"Sorry, I, uh - I thought you were ... well ..."

Neville, who had calmed when Harry dropped the wand, looked at him thoughtfully and asked, "Are you okay, Harry?"

"Oh, yeah," Harry said distractedly. "I'm fine."

James walked in at that particular moment, sporting wet hair and dressed in his dressing gown, a wet towel looped over one arm. He looked from Neville to Harry and back, then said to his father, "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Harry said, throwing off his covers and pulling himself out of bed. "Just a little misunderstanding, that's all."

He shoved his glasses onto his face and picked up his own towel, then. He had to side-step around James, but he got out of there as quickly as he could. Behind him, he distinctly heard Neville saying to James, "Is he really okay, though?"

In his mind's eye, Harry could see the mischievous look on his son's face as he sighed dramatically and answered, "You know, Neville - may I call you Neville, by the way? Anyway, Neville: I ask myself that very same question each and every day."

By the time Harry stepped out of the shower, the rest of Gryffindor house seemed to be up and moving. Back in the dormitory, Harry couldn't help but note that Seamus dressed at top speed and left the dormitory before he himself had even put on his socks.

Unable to stop the rage from bubbling to the surface, Harry found himself saying loudly, "Does he think he'll turn into a nutter if he stays in a room with me too long?"

Al appeared at the doorway just in time to have to step sideways suddenly to avoid Seamus trampling all over him on his way out. "Uh, d -"

"- Morning, Al," James said quite pointedly. "Hey, come here. I want you to look at this letter I'm writing to Gran. She'll want to hear from you, too."

He pulled out what was obviously a blank piece of parchment. The moment his brother was near his bed, James grabbed a fistful of his robes and pulled him to his side. Now that he was sure they would not be overheard, James hissed, "There's something really wrong with dad."

"No kidding," Al hissed back. "What was all that about?"

"Oh, that. Seamus was - well, let's just say he believes the Prophet."

Al rolled his eyes. "Seriously? If we all believed what the Prophet said, we'd be convinced dad's been sleeping with Aunt Hermione and Scorp is -"

Al cut himself off suddenly, his eyes going wide in horror.

"What?" James insisted.

Now pale, Al whispered, "What happens if Scorp got pulled back, James? They'd kill him! They'd -"

"- Okay, Al," James said, an arm on his little brother's shoulder. "You need to breathe."

"I think I'm gonna be sick."

"Just breathe," James repeated, though he conjured a bucket for good measure, just in case.

Five minutes later, the four boys were meeting up with Hermione, Lily and Ginny in the common room to head down to breakfast.

"What's the matter?" Hermione asked, spotting Harry's moody face and Al's vaguely nauseous demeanour. They were halfway across the common room, however, when she spotted the parchment that James and the Weasley twins had pinned on the notice board the evening before. "Al, you look like - oh, for heaven's sake."

GALLONS OF GALLEONS!
Pocket money failing to keep up with your outgoings?
Like to earn a little extra gold?
Contact Fred and George Weasley, Gryffindor common room, for simple, part-time, virtually painless jobs.
(We regret that all work is undertaken at applicant's own risk.)

"They are the limit," Hermione said forcefully, gripping the edge of the parchment and tearing it from the noticeboard.

"Hey, hey, hey!" James said, rubbing forward and very carefully extricating the parchment from the vice grip of Hermione's fist. "It took me ages to get that in just the right placement."

"What? Right over the notice for the first Hogsmeade weekend?" Lily said sarcastically.

"And I used my best handwriting!" James added indignantly.

"Well, we all know how taxing that must have been on your poor, feeble little hand," his sister retorted, rolling her eyes dramatically.

Hermione, however, was not amused. Rounding on James, she demanded, "You knew about this?"

James gulped and took a step sideways toward his father. Harry, however, put a hand square on his back and pushed him back toward his furious aunt. "That's all you, kid. You pissed her off, you deal with her."

"Excuse me?" Hermione demanded.

"Look, Hermione," Harry said, "you know I love you. Really, I do. But we also both know that you don't want to get on the wrong side of you."

Between gritted teeth, she furiously said, "I didn't get to be Minister for Magic by letting arrogant men like you -"

"- Arrogant?" Harry asked, offended. "Hermione, that's not what I meant. I'm just saying, when it comes to things like this, you have a tendency to overreact, and -"

"- Wait a minute," Ginny said, stepping forward with an arm outstretched. Mercifully, she'd stepped in at the moment just before this little spat would have become a full-on argument. To Hermione, however, she said, "What did you just say?"

Still fuming, Hermione said, "I was pointing out that Harry's chauvinistic point of view is -"

Suddenly, however, she stopped. Her face went entirely blank. Ever so slowly, her eyes rose to meet Ginny's.

"What?" she breathed, eyes flicking from Ginny to Harry and back a couple of times. "I ... How?"

Harry looked over at James, who cowered just a little at the intensity of his father's gaze. Still staring at his son, he murmured, "I have no idea."

The group made their way downstairs in total silence. The only interruption to their travels through the castle were the whispers of other students, who all seemed to still be talking about Harry. It wasn't until they reached the foot of the marble staircase that they finally acknowledged anyone around them.

"There you are," said the voice of the last person anyone ever expected to see approach them willingly.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry sighed tiredly, running a hand through his hair. "It's been a long morning, and we've not even had breakfast yet. Whatever you want - just get it over with so I can eat."

"Oh, I highly doubt you'll be eating this morning, Potter," Malfoy said.

While his words were normally coated in malice, on second glance, he looked almost panicked. He was clearly anxious about something. And scared, though he was hiding it fairly well. It reminded Harry of the side of Draco that he'd only seen once before. The moment the thought hit him, Harry stopped. Slowly, he turned to look back at the Slytherin prefect, his eyes wide. Draco, however, met his gaze with a glare.

"So I take it you do know something about waking up as a teenager again, then."

It was not a question, but a statement. While his family looked confusedly at each other behind him, Harry just nodded mutely.

"Okay, what happened?"

Harry went to open his mouth, but Draco held up a hand and hastily said, "You know what? I really don't think I want to know."

"Good," Harry said faintly. "Because we have no idea."

"That's comforting," Draco said. Looking to Hermione now, he asked, "Well, Minister? Have you got any bright ideas?"

Behind him, Harry heard Ron ask, "What? How can he know about that?"

"By Dumbledore, you're daft," Ginny sighed.

Still very much a teenager, Hermione said nervously, "Well, I - uh ..."

"So that's a no, then," Draco said. "What about you, Al? Wait a second - Al?"

"And James and Lily," Al said quietly, still holding the bucket under his left arm. "Have you seen -"

"- He was at home last night," Draco said, quickly going much paler than he usually was. "He's barely slept in days. Worried sick about you lot disappearing off the face of the planet. Of course, now that makes sense ..."

"Told you Scorp was fine," James said smugly.

"You did not," Al said, shoving the bucket into his brother's stomach. "And let's not forget whose stupid experiment got us stuck in the nineties."

"Shut it, sna -"

"- Okay," Ginny said, stepping in between the boys. "Anyone who isn't a parent, go have breakfast."

"What is this?" Ron demanded. "We're not children. You can't just send us off to eat so the adults can have their private little conversation."

Sarcastically, Draco said, "You're welcome to stay, Weasley, but you're wife's long gone."

Ron's head flicked around to look at the doors to the Great Hall, where a line of fourth-year Ravenclaws were heading into breakfast. Unfortunately for Ron, he'd just missed the sight of Hermione and the three kids heading through that very same door.

Looking back to Draco, Ron said, "My what?"

Tiredly - and rubbing his temples again - Harry said, "We are going to need significantly more Firewhiskey for this conversation."

"Careful, dear," Ginny countered with a smile, a hand on Harry's forearm. "You're starting to sound like an alcoholic."

Idly, Harry wondered aloud, "I wonder if the house elves can procure a bottle of tequila. You know, that stuff that George likes? I can't for the life of me remember the brand, though."

Patting his shoulder, Ginny said, "Because that's the biggest problem with that plan."

"If you two are done flirting," Draco said, noting with pride that he could still make Ron grimace at comments like that, "I'd like to know what exactly our plan is?"

"Honestly?" Harry said. "So far, we've been focused on getting to Hogwarts. Our first priority is to keep the kids safe."

"And beyond that?"

Harry shrugged.

"You haven't got that far yet."

"No," Harry said honestly. "We haven't."

Ginny looked between Harry and Draco, seeing the resignation on each of their faces. "For right now, we need to make sure we don't disturb the timeline."

"Which is why you're about to go and have breakfast with your boyfriend," Harry said, seeing Michael Corner approach with another group of Ravenclaws out of the corner of his eye.

"Yeah," Ginny said, taking half a step away to ensure she was a respectable distance away from what was currently 'just' her brother's best friend. "I'll, uh..."

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

He watched her walk away, paying much more attention than he really should have been at this point in time. Beside him, Ron scowled.

"Yeah, as much as I'd really like to spend time sorting out the Potters' love lives," Draco said, "I'd rather revisit that point about not changing the timeline."

Ron frowned. "Why?"

"I'm sorry, and where exactly are your children?"

"We've been through this, Malfoy, I - wait a second. Children?"

Ron looked to Harry with wide eyes, but Harry just shrugged.

"You two have the luxury of relative safety and protection," Draco said, lowering his voice but still making a very clear impact. "Meanwhile, back on the other side of the war, I'm about to be recruited!"

Harry sighed again, his head dropping in the process. "Look, Draco. I don't like it either, but right now we have no choice but to play our parts. As soon as we get a clearer idea of how we get out of this, we'll make it happen. We will get everyone home."

Despite his feelings on the matter, Draco knew there was no other option. What was safest for all of them right now was for him to go back to a life he had left behind decades ago.

"If you hear anything about my son ..."

Harry clapped a hand on his shoulder and said reassuringly, "You'll be the first to know."

They parted ways then, Draco heading back toward the dungeons while Harry and Ron made a beeline for breakfast. Both looked instinctively at the staff table as they entered, where they saw Professor Grubbly-Plank chatting with Professor Sinistra, the Astronomy teacher. The enchanted ceiling above them echoed Harry's mood; it was a miserable rain-cloud grey.

He knew exactly what Al was going to ask as he slipped into the spare seat beside him. Before Al even had a chance to get the words out, Harry said, "Yes, he's him. And he says Scorp is fine - he's at home, safe."

"But if he's here, doesn't that mean Scorp's alone in the Manor?"

Surprisingly, the question had come from James. Several sets of raised eyebrows were sent in his direction.

"What?" he said. "I pay attention."

"Pity you weren't paying attention to your stupid incantation," Lily muttered.

James opened his mouth to retort, but Harry reached around Al and tapped James on the back of the head once again. Tiredly, he said, "Let it go, James. And Lily - don't antagonise your brother over breakfast. It's far too early for duelling."

"Besides," Hermione said, tentatively stepping into the conversation while looking between Harry and the two children in question, "we'll take care of him."

"But you're here," Al said, confused. It took him a moment, but eventually he added, "Oh. You mean 'we' as in the family."

"Sure," Hermione said, flushing a little as she realised what she was agreeing to. "Yeah."

Thankfully for both of them, they didn't have a chance to continue this awkward line of conversation. A tall black girl with long braided hair marched up, clearly looking for Harry. Silently, he surreptitiously cast a silencing charm on his daughter - Lily saying a little too much was the last thing they needed right now.

To the newcomer, Harry said, "Hi, Angelina."

Beside him, his three children stared at the girl who would one day become their aunt with wide eyes. Lily went to say something, but ended up just mutely opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water. She turned to her brothers, pointing at her mouth, but neither were paying attention. They were too busy looking from Angelina to Harry and back.

"Hi," she said briskly, "good summer?" And without waiting for an answer, "Listen, I've been made Gryffindor Quidditch Captain."

"Nice one," Harry grinned.

"Yeah, well, we need a new Keeper now Oliver's left. Tryouts are on Friday at five o'clock and I want the whole team there, all right? Then we can see how the new person'll fit in."

"Okay," Harry nodded.

She paused for a moment, then said casually, "Hey, uh, have you seen Fred?"

"Can't say I have, no," Harry said.

"Well, if you see him tell him to come find me. He owes me a date on the first Hogsmeade weekend."

"Wait," Al said, "Fred owes you a date?"

Beside him, James added, "Don't you mean George?"

Angelina looked over at the boys, then said, "No, I mean Fred. Do - do I know you?"

"They're transfer students," Harry said smoothly. "The Prewetts."

It didn't appear to have occurred to her until Harry spoke that the boys looked remarkably like him. She pointed from them to him, saying, "You're related, right?"

"Uh, yeah," Harry said awkwardly.

"Cool," Angelina said. Then, just as quickly as she had appeared, she disappeared.

"I'd forgotten Wood had graduated," Hermione said vaguely as she pulled a plate of toast towards her. "I suppose that will make quite a difference to the team?"

Harry shrugged. "I s'pose."

James frowned. "But you know. Like, for sure."

"That's entirely beside the point," Harry said, lifting a spoon of cereal toward his mouth. Halfway there, Lily's frantic movements caught his attention. With his other hand, he flicked his wand and said, "Oh, sorry."

"Thank you!" she said over-dramatically. "And by the way - was that entirely necessary?"

"Yes," Harry, Al and James said in unison.

"Anyway," Harry said, returning back to the conversation at hand, "Wood was a good Keeper."

"Still, it won't hurt to have some new blood, will it?" Ron said.

Beside Harry, James and Lily shared a look.

"What?" Ron asked them.

Al slapped a hand across his brother's open mouth and said, "Nothing. It's nothing."

With a whoosh and a clatter, hundreds of owls came soaring in through the upper windows. They descended all over the Hall, bringing letters and packages to their owners and showering the breakfasters with droplets of water; it was clearly raining hard outside. Hedwig was nowhere to be seen, but Harry was hardly surprised; his only correspondent at this point in his life was Sirius, and he doubted Sirius would have anything new to tell him after only twenty-four hours apart. Hermione, however, had to move her orange juice aside quickly to make way for a large damp barn owl bearing a sodden Daily Prophet in its beack.

"What are you still getting that for?" Harry said, forcing his spoon into his cereal a little too forcefully as Hermione placed a Knut in the leather pouch on the owl's leg and it took off again. "It's a load of rubbish."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione said, "For the same reason you still have it delivered every day."

"Oh, really?" Harry said sarcastically. "Is your wife the senior Quidditch reporter, too?"

She shot him a look. Instead of replying, she unfurled the newspaper and disappeared behind it. Beside her, Ron asked quietly, "My sister does what now?"

Harry shrugged, but didn't answer him.

By the time Hermione finished with the Prophet, the others had finished eating their breakfast and Professor McGonagall had passed out their timetables.

"Nothing," she said simply, rolling up the newspaper and laying it down by her plate. "Nothing about you or Dumbledore or anything."

"Look at today," Ron groaned. "History of Magic, double Potions, Divination and double Defense Against the Dark Arts ... Binns, Snape, Trelawney and that Umbridge woman all in one day! I wish Fred and George'd hurry up and get those Skiving Snackboxes sorted ..."

"Do mine ears deceive me?" Fred said, arriving with George and squeezing on to the bench beside Harry. "Hogwarts prefects surely don't wish to skive off lessons?"

"Look what we've got today," Ron said grumpily, shoving his timetable under Fred's nose. "That's the worst Monday I've ever seen."

"Fair point, little bro," Fred said, scanning the column. "You can have a bit of Nosebleed Nougat cheap if you like."

"Why's it cheap?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"Because you'll keep bleeding till you shrivel up. We haven't got an antidote yet," George said.

Ron frowned. "Cheers, but I think I'll take the lessons."

"And speaking of your Skiving Snackboxes," Hermione jumped in, eyeing the twins beadily, "you can't advertise for testers on the Gryffindor noticeboard."

"Says who?" George countered.

"Says me. And Ron."

"Leave me out of it," Ron said hastily, holding up his hands defensively.

Hermione shot him a glare, which had him squirming ever so slightly in his seat. That alone started Fred, George and James sniggering.

"You'll be singing a different tune soon enough, Hermione," Fred said, thickly buttering a crumpet. "You're starting your fifth year. You'll be begging us for a Snackbox before long."

"And why would starting fifth year mean I want a Skiving Snackbox?"

To everyone's surprise, it was James who said gravely, "Fifth year's O.W.L. year."

To her nephew, Hermione said, "So?"

James shivered dramatically. "Bad memories."

Grinning mischievously, Lily explained, "He put in bare minimum effort for four years. Set himself a dangerous precedent for his N.E.W.T.s by getting all twelve O.W.L.s."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "He did what?"

James sighed dramatically. "Honestly, you people keep saying that like it's hard. Uncle Bill did it, too!"

"Yeah, but not even Uncle Percy -"

One look from her father silenced Lily from finishing that thought.

"Anyway," James said, pulling focus back to himself again, "I've already done this once. Still don't see why I have to do it again."

"Let it go, Jamie," Al sighed.

"You know what? No. No, I won't," James said defiantly. "They've already put me through this crap once. They kept our noses so hard to the grindestone they were rubbed absolutely raw. No, sir - I will not do it again!"

When James' fist hit the table dramatically, Harry found himself rubbing his temples tiredly again. Seeing that this was clearly about to become something they couldn't easily explain away, George jumped in with a happy, "Half our year had minor breakdowns coming up to O.W.L.s. Tears and tantrums ... Patricia Stimpson kept coming over faint."

"Kenneth Tower came out in boils, d'you remember?" Fred added reminiscently.

"That's 'cause you put Bulbadox powder in his pyjamas," George reminded him.

"Oh, yeah," Fred grinned. "I'd forgotten ... hard to keep track sometimes, isn't it?"

"Anyway, it's a nightmare of a year, the fifth," said George. "If you care about exam results, anyway. Fred and I managed to keep our peckers up somehow."

"Only because you don't care about exams," Al mused quietly. "Not like you're going to use them, anyway ..."

"Right you are, little nephew," Fred said, quite unconcerned about that little glimpse into their future. "We feel our futures lie outside the world of academic achievement."

"We seriously debated whether we were going to bother coming back for our seventh year," George said brightly.

"That's an option?" James asked hopefully, his eyes suddenly full of wonder.

"No," Harry said finally.

"But, mum didn't need exams, and -"

"- She's the exception to the rule," Harry said. "You are doing your N.E. ."

"But you -"

"- When you save the world from an evil dictator, then you can be excused from completing your formal education," Harry said hurriedly. Before any of the others really had an opportunity to digest what he'd said, however, he continued on, "Besides. The twins are brilliant businessman. I happen to know for a fact they'll land on their feet."

With a bright smile, George said, "Thank you, future-man. If we're being honest, though, we only came back because we knew mum couldn't take us leaving school early, not on top of Percy turning out to be the world's biggest prat."

James, Al and Lily shared a disbelieving look. Clearly, there were some parts of the story that their family had intentionally kept from them over the years.

"We're not going to waste our last year here, though," Fred said, looking affectionately around at the Great Hall. "We're going to use it to do a bit of market research, find out exactly what the average Hogwarts student requires from a joke shop, carefully evaluate the results of our research, then produce products to fit the demand."

Skeptically, Hermione said, "But where are you going to get the gold to start a joke shop? You're going to need all the ingredients and materials - and premises, too, I suppose ..."

Harry did not look at the twins. Nor did he look at his children. He knew exactly what he had done with his Triwizard winnings, after all. The less the kids knew about it, the better.

He continued looking determinedly just over everyone's heads while Fred said, "Ask us no questions and we'll tell you no lies, Hermione. C'mon, George, if we get there early we might be able to sell a few Extendable Ears before Herbology."

As the twins stood to take their leave, Lily said, "By the way, Au - uh, Angelina - is looking for you."

Her brothers knew she had deliberately not addressed the message to one twin or the other. To their great surprise, it was Fred who waggled his eyebrows and said, "Oh, is she now? Well, I'd better go and find our great and wonderful Quidditch captain. She owes me a date!"

And with that, they were gone.

Hermione, however, was more concerned with Fred's very evasive comments. "What did that mean? 'Ask us no questions ...' Does that mean they've already got some gold to start a joke shop?"

To Harry's utter horror, he noticed Al looking at him very intently from the corner of his eye. As surreptitiously as he could, Harry shook his head ever so slightly, indicating that this was not a good time to talk about it. Al took a giant bite of his toast in an effort to stifle his grin. In that moment, it suddenly all made sense.

Meanwhile, Ron was saying, "You know, I've been wondering about that. They bought me a new set of dress robes this summer and I couldn't understand where they got the Galleons ..."

"Anyway," Al said, pushing his plate away from him slightly as though he needed those few extra millimetres of distance to remind him he really didn't want to eat any more food. "O.W.L.s determine which jobs you can apply for after school. Have you thought about it?"

Both Hermione and Ron looked over to Harry expectantly. Clearly confused, he said absently, "What?"

Hearing the bell ring from somewhere deep within the castle, they each rose from their seats slowly, collected their belongings and set off toward History of Magic. As they emerged back into the Entrance Hall, Al bid them adieu with a wave of his hand and joined Ginny, who was heading for the dungeons. Lily, meanwhile, approached a group of second-years she had met in the dormitories the night before; They exited the Castle, bound for Herbology out in the greenhouses.

"Well, she's the Minister, right?" Ron said, intentionally dropping his voice to make sure they weren't overheard. "What do I do?"

"Actually, Uncle Ron, you -"

Almost reflexively, Harry slapped a hand over James' mouth and threw him a warning glare. Still glaring at James, he said, "That's entirely up to you, Ron."

Ron frowned. "But how? I mean, you're from there. You already know."

Harry looked back over to Ron and said seriously, "Your future's not pre-ordained, Ron. Believe me. Every decision you make - here and now, today - is going to affect your future."

"So you're saying you might not go back to the same world you left?" Hermione asked, suddenly very concerned.

Harry sighed. He paused for a moment, then said, "Yeah."

"Oh."

Someone clearing their throat very loudly right behind them made the four of them jump. It was only when they turned to look at the very unimpressed seventh-year Ravenclaw girls that they realised they were blocking the staircase. Harry had to stop himself from smiling at the blonde in front who had cleared her throat - she would one day become his sister-in-law, after all.

"Oh. Sorry," Harry said, stepping sideways to let them pass.

"Uh-huh," the girl said, rolling her eyes. "Typical."

James had opened his mouth once again, but this time it was Hermione who stopped him - by stepping on his left foot.

"Ow!" James complained when the other students had passed by. "Was that really necessary?"

"I don't know, James," Harry said just loud enough for his son and his two best friends to hear. "Were you about to say something sarcastic to Audrey?"

Ron frowned. "Who's Audrey?"

"No one," Harry, Hermione and James all said dismissively, not moving their focus away from one another.

"Okay. Don't tell me, then," Ron said, leading them on toward their class.

James slipped away from his father and took the stairs two at a time until he caught up with Ron, whose strides were admittedly quite a bit longer than any of theirs. "Go on then, Uncle Ron," he said. "What do you want to do after Hogwarts?"

"Well ..." Ron drifted off sheepishly.

"What?" James urged, insistent as only he could be.

"Well, it'd be cool to be an Auror," Ron said off-handedly.

James grinned triumphantly. "I knew it!"

"But they're, like, the elite," Ron continued, ignoring the very excited sixteen-year-old beside him. "You've got to be really good."

"And?" James said. "Trust me - they've not seen anyone like you."

Ron paused at a corner, looking at James closely. "I'm not sure that's a compliment."

Harry clapped him on the shoulder as he reached him, a smile on his face. "Take the win, Ron. Just take the win."