A possible TW for sensitive trans talk. There's nothing transphobic (I hope...if there is, please let me know!), but Harry asks a lot of ignorant and confused questions and deadnames a lot, because he's a 14 yo in the 90s and he doesn't know anything about anything. Also use of dated terms, because, again, it's the 90s.

-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-

Ron was so taken with Lavender that he spent much of his free time in her company now, and as Harry discovered when he came across them in the train corridor after coming back to his compartment from the bathroom on the way from Hogwarts, Ron seemed to have no trouble at all with the tongue thing.

Harry thought about whether there was something wrong with him once again.

His feelings must have shown on his face when he returned to his friends, because Neville took one look at him an immediately asked: "What is it, Harry?"

Harry grimaced. "Nothing, just...came across Ron and Lavender out there."

They all gave him understanding looks.

"It's a bit much, isn't it?" Seamus muttered. "I mean, I know I said I didn't mind, but..."

"Seamus, mate, I think we all mind that, and not because we're jealous," Dean replied. "I thought I was finally ready to try this girls thing, but that just seems icky."

Harry shifted uncomfortably, thinking about Cho. "Do you plan to ask Lavender to your birthday party?" He asked Seamus. "You know, given...this. She's bound to spend it wrapped around Ron."

Seamus' face fell. "I don't know if Mum will let me have one, really," he admitted. "I mean, Black might be innocent, but now Pettigrew is on the loose, isn't he?"

Harry made a face. He'd been trying not to think about it. He had been all set to hate Pettigrew the way he'd hated Sirius before, but he'd seen the pictures from the trial, read all the articles. The man really did look terrified. Harry still didn't think what he did was okay, of course, but it was hard hating someone who seemed to be out of his mind with fear.

He wasn't sure how the escape lined up with all that, and didn't really want to have an opinion before he talked it over with Alduin.

"I think I'll be able to talk my mum into going to your place," Seamus was continuing in the meantime, "it really is pretty safe, but Diagon Alley? I dunno..."

"Well, I'm sure the offer to celebrate your birthday at the Manor still stands," Harry said, "so if you want that, just drop me an owl."

Seamus nodded grimly.

It was then that Su poked her head in, looking around the compartment. "Where's Ron?" She asked. "I wanted to play."

"Guess," Dean replied.

"What, again? Ugh." She rolled her eyes. "We've barely played in the last two weeks, he was with her all the time, but I hoped at least on the train...well, never mind." She plopped down in his seat, Hermione following behind her. The other girl turned to Neville and aid: "So, Clement graduated, so next year it'll be you leading the Herbology club, right?"

Neville gave a rather nervous nod. "I'm not sure I'm the best choice," he muttered, "I mean, I won't even be a fifth year and Professor Sprout originally wanted a prefect..."

"Neville, she gave you the job," Harry said patiently, like he had many times before. "That means she thinks you're the person for the job."

"I guess..." Neville replied, as he always did.

Su rolled her eyes at him. "Honestly, if someone offered me to lead the chess club, I'd jump on the offer – if only to rub it in Ron's face!"

-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-

The first thing Harry did after coming back home, after making sure he had a green light for Seamus' birthday, was turning his attention to his little cousins. Even though he should be used to it from Wynn, it still caught him by surprise how much bigger Edric got since he last saw him.

Wynn was old enough now that the difference from three months ago wasn't so glaring, but there was still enough for Harry to notice. The most obvious, perhaps, was in Wynn's talking. Where he only rarely put together sentences during Easter break, they were completely common by now, and a good part of his effort seemed to concentrate on Edric.

"Why does he do that?" Harry asked curiously. "I mean, doesn't he notice that Edric never answers?"

"But he does answer," Alexandra said with a smile. "Not in words, perhaps, but he reacts clearly enough when Wynn talks to him."

It was true, Harry supposed – Edric certainly laughed often enough at his brother.

Wynn was also more enthusiastic about his toy broom than ever before. He always wanted Harry to take him out on it, no matter the weather, and was flying around so fast Harry had to make an effort to keep up with him as he ran.

"What about the real grown-up broom you talked of getting him?" Harry asked Alduin on his second day back home, after Alexandra took Wynn for his afternoon nap.

Alduin grimaced. "Wait at least till Christmas," he groaned. "I'm not ready."

They began to walk back towards the house, and as they did, Alduin said in a careful tone Harry knew meant his cousin was unsure about how he'd react: "You know there'll be a garden party tomorrow."

Harry simply nodded. There was a garden party at this time every year, for his cousins' anniversary.

"There's something you should know beforehand. You remember the Crouches' child?"

Harry gave him a look at the strange question. "Edmund? Of course." Even though he found the boy a bit strange and wasn't exactly great friends with him, he was still one of the first children Harry had met in the wizarding world. He was unlikely to forget him.

"Elizabeth," Alduin said.

Harry blinked. "What?"

"Her name is Elizabeth. I know you met her as a boy, and I'm sorry to say it was apparently by and large at Jonathan's – her father's – insistence, but nevertheless, she is a girl and her name is Elizabeth."

Harry was completely lost. How could Edmund be Elizabeth? Did they spend the previous three years masking her as a boy for...whatever reason? "I don't understand," he said after a while, when he failed to come up with a reasonable explanation.

Alduin sighed. "I looked up the Muggle term for this, and even though I'm sure it'll bring a lot of misconceptions up, maybe it will help. Have you ever heard of transsexuality, Harry?"

Harry wondered. Had he? Most of his memories of his Muggle life were pretty distant now, but this did tug at something vague in his brain, something he remembered hearing about and being scandalized. "It's the men who dress up like women, isn't it?" He asked.

By Alduin's grimace, he supposed it wasn't.

"Like I said, misconceptions," his cousin muttered. Louder, he said: "It is simply a situation of...well, someone being born in the wrong body, I suppose is the easiest way to put it. In case of Elizabeth, a girl being born in a boyish body."

Harry frowned. "But...how would she know she's a girl if she had...you know?"

Alduin gave him an amused look. "If you take Polyjuice Potion to turn into a girl on the outside, does that actually make you a girl?"

Harry had never even thought about that. It was true, though, that even if the idea of suddenly having a girl body made him uncomfortable, he didn't think it would mean he would actually be a girl in that moment. "All right," he said slowly, "I get your point. I still don't understand how she can decide she's a girl if she never had any girl experiences, though."

"It's not a decision," Alduin replied, "but as for the rest, no one really knows how it happens. It just does. Probably something genetic, like some people being great singers and others talented at Quidditch." He looked at Harry at that, and Harry smiled in spite of himself.

"All right," he said slowly. He supposed it would be hard to adjust, but if Edmund wanted to be called Elizabeth now, well, in the end, it was his decision. Or hers.

By this point, they'd reached the house, but before they entered, Alduin hesitated, then said: "While we're on a serious topic...I promised we'd talk more about Cho once you got home."

Harry grimaced. "I'm not sure I really want to. I mean – it's over, so it doesn't really matter any more, does it?"

"You wrote you wanted to understand what really happened." Alduin reminded him.

Harry sighed. "I guess I did – do." he conceded. "I just...don't like thinking about it much."

"Then we'll never talk about it again," Alduin promised. "Now come sit by the lake, and tell me."

So they turned around to walk back into the gardens, and Harry did. He left out most of his discomfort with kissing, only hinting that he didn't like it as much as Cho did – even that was too embarrassing for words to mention, there was no way he was going into details – but he told his cousin all the rest, every detail that seemed relevant, every argument they had.

When he was done, Alduin sighed and said: "I know you'll probably hate me saying it, but Cho was right."

Harry frowned: "About what?"

"About you two wanting different things from the relationship. It's not your fault, or her fault, or anyone's fault. These things just happen, and when they do, the best thing to do is end the relationship as soon as possible, to spare both of you more pain and frustration." Alduin rubbed his face. "I can explain some details for you – for example, Cho was upset over Sophie's birthday and she kept bringing Marietta with her because she wanted to meet your friends and for you to meet hers – but all of these things are just symptoms, of her wanting a more serious relationship."

"What does that even mean?" Harry asked, frustrated.

Alduin gave another sigh. "Well," he said, "that's just it: until you want something like that yourself, I don't think it's easily explainable. It's...well, it's something you expect – or at least hope – would last for years and years, where the person is your closest companion, your most trusted confidant, most loyal supporter..."

"Like marriage?" Harry asked, horrified.

"Like some marriages, sure," Alduin agreed, "though many, as I've told you time and again, work differently."

"Cho is fifteen," Harry said insistently, "she couldn't want...could she?"

"Everyone is different in this," Alduin explained patiently. "Some people want a relationship like that early – Abdullah and Isobel started to date when they were fifteen – some later, and some never do. It's not really something you can influence, Harry, and it's absolutely crucial that you try to be on the same page with someone in this when you're entering a relationship, otherwise it can lead to a lot of bitterness and disappointment."

Harry nodded, still rather dazed. He thought he had plenty of time until he started thinking about things like that. But then he remembered what he'd realized over Easter, that Roger wasn't that far from the age his own parents had married. "When did Mum and Dad get together?" He asked.

"In their seventh year, when they were seventeen," Alduin replied, "but your father, as you know, was interested in her much earlier. He was definitely one of the people who want a serious relationship soon. It shows perfectly well that it has little enough to do with overall maturity: he was childish in most other ways, but for all that you know I'm critical of him, he was serious about your mother from the start, and never strayed from her or neglected her in any way. And yes, I think he was seriously interested in her since he was fifteen, too."

Harry shook his head in bewilderment. Things like that seemed infinitely distant to him.

"It's not a race, Harry," Alduin told him quietly. "There's no rush. You will reach that point at some later date – or you won't. That is fine, too. Not everyone needs a relationship like that to live a fulfilling life."

Harry only nodded. He had always wanted a family, he thought, but at some point vaguely in the future. Certainly very far from here and now.

"When did you…?" He asked carefully.

"I was in my seventh year, the beginning of it, when I got together with Eliza, too," Alduin replied in a tone that was just a bit too even. "That was the first time I wanted something serious."

Harry wanted to ask more, but knew it would only cause his cousin pain, so he refrained. "I wish I could ask my parents," he muttered instead, and Alduin pressed his shoulder in silence.

-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-

It was a few days later, after Seamus' birthday and the garden party (at which Harry had much less trouble than he'd thought with calling Edmund Elizabeth, given that she now had long, wavy hair and wore earrings), that Alduin took him aside after breakfast. "I have something for you, Harry," he said in a quiet, serious voice. "It's not a gift, exactly, but...it's an heirloom."

"What is it?" Harry asked curiously. He was well aware most of his family's heirlooms had burned with the Potter Manor.

"The Resurrection Stone."

Harry stared at him. "The Hallow? Seriously?" He asked, incredulous.

"Yes," Alduin said slowly, "but...I'm not going to give it to you, not now. I gave it to Alexandra for safekeeping, and you can pick it up with her when you're seventeen. Until then...if you want to use it, you may, from time to time, but only with her leave."

Harry frowned. "Why?"

Alduin sighed. "I believe the stone can be dangerous," he admitted.

"Why not guard it yourself, then?" Harry wondered. "Why even tell me about it?"

"As to the first, because it's as dangerous to me as it is to you," Alduin replied seriously. "We both have loved ones dead, and that is why it's a danger. We could both end up spending too much time with the image of them the stone can produce, instead of in the real life. We could lose ourselves in it, bit by bit, like the brother in the story by the Beedle. Alexandra lost no one very dear to her. She is safe. And as to the second...because I don't believe I have the right to keep this from you. You are almost fourteen, and I don't have all the answers, Harry, certainly not when it comes to grief. I don't know what's best for you in this, and so I thought it would be better if we tried to decide it together."

Harry thought about it for a moment. He felt strangely disarmed, by his cousin trusting him this much, by admitting he might not know something better than Harry did. "Have you tried it?" He asked curiously.

"No," Alduin admitted. "I don't quite trust myself."

"I think I'd like to," Harry said hesitatingly, after giving it some more thought, "but if you think it's dangerous..."

Alduin sighed. "I can't see in side your head, Harry. I don't know how desperately you wish for your parents. You barely remember them, I know, so perhaps it is different. I know for a fact that the situation is too dangerous for me." He was standing by the window of the morning parlour, but he was staring of into the distance as he continued: "To my mind, it has still only been four or five years since my family died, and I knew them my entire life. They meant everything to me. If I used the stone...well, if it wasn't for Wynn and Edric, I'm quite positive I'd never be able to go back. Now I think the boys could pull me from the memories, but I'd always feel torn, from then on, between being with them and being with my dead relatives. It's not something I want to experience, so even though the temptation is there, and a very strong one at that, I know that I have to keep away. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat and blinking the moisture in his eyes away. He supposed he had never before thought about the difference between the family he'd lost and the family Alduin had lost. But now he knew they were not the same at all. For Harry, it was like a distant dream he knew from stories and pictures. But for Alduin, it was real, and almost recent. It was...well, it was like if Wynn and Edric died, really, and the mere idea hit Harry so strongly he almost gasped aloud at it.

Yes, he understood now, it wasn't comparable at all.

But he also knew it meant he was much safer in using the Stone.

And so Harry straightened and nodded. "I never knew my parents," he said firmly. "I'd like to know what they were like. I think I'd like to ask my father a few things, too."

Alduin gave a small smile at that, then sighed. "I don't think I like the idea of you using it alone," he said. "Not at first at least. But your father and me together...well."

"We'll try it," Harry said decidedly, and so the following day, they went to Alexandra and Harry requested the stone from her, and then they all retreated to one of the empty rooms in the house, Alduin leading the way.

His parents appeared when Harry turned the stone, and they both gave him sad, melancholy looks as Harry fought to blink away the sudden sheen of tears. They only looked at each other for a moment, then his mother said, smiling softly: "Harry...you've grown up to be such a great boy."

Harry gave up and let his tears fall.

His mother's smile, he couldn't help thinking, was the most beautiful thing in the world.

"We're so proud of you," his father then added, as Harry was wiping tars off his face. "I wanted to thank you," James Potter continued then, turning to Alduin. "I know I don't deserve your help, and yet what you did for Harry...still do..."

Alduin shook his head. "I didn't do it for you."

"I know, but I still want to thank you. We both do."

Alduin simply inclined his head in silence.

Harry just stood for a moment, looking at his parents, then forced himself to stop crying and focus enough to remember the questions he had. It felt inappropriate in a way, to be so insistent when he saw his parents for the first time in proper memory, but he knew that if he didn't ask now, he never would, so he turned to his Father and forced himself to say: "Why did you do the things you did to Professor Snape?"

James sighed, looking deeply regretful. "Because I wasn't a very good person when I was a teenager," he replied simply. "Nowhere near enough what you are. I couldn't be more proud of you," he repeated.

Harry nodded, giving himself a moment to let the new influx of tears pass. The answer didn't really explain anything, but at least, he supposed, his father didn't try to make any excuses. "And why did you start dating Dad?" He asked his mother when he could speak again. "When he was...like that?"

His mother sighed. "Perhaps I saw the good in your father. Perhaps I was wilfully blind to the bad, because he charmed me. Most likely, a combination of both."

Harry nodded again, and then only looked at his parents in silence for a long while, too moved to really say anything.

"Harry," his mother said softly, then. "It's time to let us go."

"Can I speak to you again?" Harry asked a little desperately. He sensed she was right – he needed some time to sort out his thoughts and be alone, this was too much – but he couldn't bear the thought that this would be his only encounter, and that it would be so short.

She gave him a reassuring smile. "Yes," she said. "Not too often, but from time to time, if you feel you truly need to, yes, you can."

"We will tell you," his father added, "if you call us again too soon."

Harry nodded for the third time, and before he lost his resolve, whispered: "Goodbye," turned the stone again...and they were gone.

"I'd...like to go to my room now, if you don't mind," he said to Alduin. His cousin only mutely assented, his eyes shining a little, too, in the morning light. Alexandra took the stone from him without a word.

-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-

AN: Harry has a family in this verse, so it'd be less dangerous to him than the mirror in PS, but still, it ain't nothing.