"You cannot help."
He spun around. Albus Dumbledore was walking toward him, sprightly and upright, wearing sweeping robes of midnight blue.
"Harry." He spread his arms wide, and his hands were both whole and white and undamaged. "You wonderful boy. You brave, brave man. Let us walk."
Stunned, Harry followed as Dumbledore strode away from where the flayed child lay whimpering, leading to two seats that Harry had not previously noticed, set some distance away under that high, sparkling ceiling. Dumbledore sat down in one of them and Harry fell into the other, staring at his old headmaster's face. Dumbledore's long silver hair and beard, the piercingly blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles, the crooked nose: Everything was as he had remembered it.
"Where would you say we are?" Dumbledore did not seem as patient as he had been in life. His eyes twinkled merrily, however.
"Well, it looks like King's Cross Station." Harry said, looking over his surroundings. He glanced back at the agonizing creature. "Is there nothing we can do, sir?"
"Oh no, Harry. There is nothing we can do without a great cost to the natural order of things."
"Oh—you're dead. Does that mean I'm dead, too?"
"Not quite, Harry. This is the moment I would take to allow you to figure out on your own what it is that Tom did to fail in his casting of the killing curse, however, I was quite enjoying my after life, forgive an old man for indulging his selfishness: When Voldemort took your blood, he tethered your lives together."
Harry reached for his scar and found none.
"That is correct! You were the seventh horcrux he did not mean to create. With your death he is mortal once again. With the horcrux in your scar gone, Harry, you will be able to go back and finish him yourself. Alternatively, you can take a train to your own after life. Although… I believe you have a while to go before you'll be reunited with your loved ones."
"Haven't I done enough to earn my rest, Headmaster?"
"Call me Albus, Harry. It is impossible to lead a school while one is passed on. Now, Harry—"
"I have to go back?"
"I never said that, Harry." Harry and Albus sat there for a while, Harry brooding and ignoring the wheezing breaths of Voldemort's horcrux. Albus spoke up again, "I believe that it is our choices that define us the most, Harry. You don't have to pass on, you don't have to go back; you have been gifted something that many like Tom have sought for eons: You will pass on like the rest of us one day, Harry. It is ultimately your choice how soon it comes."
They sat a moment longer before Harry spoke up.
"I think I would like to go on to my next great adventure."
"If you're sure, Harry." As he said this, a train pulled up to the station. Harry stared at the cherry red express. Harry swallowed, turning to face his headmaster. Searching for disappointment and finding nothing but contentment, Harry stood up. "Please make the most of your time there, my boy."
"Of course I will, Albus." The headmaster smiled, gave a genuine relieved smile, and stood with him.
"I will walk with you, Harry. May you have peace after this trip."
They walked to the train whose doors had yet to open, "I'll see you on the other side, Headmaster."
The doors opened and Dumbledore looked pensive.
"Farewell, Harry James Potter, Boy-Who-Lived…" Dumbledore's robes began to twist and turn and Harry was shoved onto the train by invisible hands. When he glanced back at the wizard, he wore a hooded cloak of black similar to that of a dementor. Thin bony hands pulled the hood up and all he saw was a flash of green from within its contents. Almost like a pair of eyes staring at him as the Horcrux appeared in the not-Dumbledore's arms.
The being shut the door and the train began to move it waved at him and it disappeared in a burst of smoke. The tracks began to disappear along with the world he had been in. Harry felt a cloak cover his shoulders and a wand appeared in his hands, distracting him from the world that was falling apart from around the train.
He managed to fight the burst of fatigue that hit him for just a moment.
"Do be a stranger, Harry Potter." Harry would forever remember that whisper, he just wasn't sure when he heard it before awakening. "May we meet again one day like old friends, Time Eater."
Harry's eyes snapped open. Above him was a starry night sky and the hard ground was beneath him. The grounds of the forbidden forest was not this stiff and the trees should have obscured the sky. He looked to his left and saw nothing but a stretch of fields.
He looked to his right, gasping softly at the sheer height of the mansion where a fight seemed to be mid swing. The mansion was hard for him to see since there were no lights on. He could make out the outline still. The duo of wizards were fighting masked Death Eaters. Their robes were bright and lit up a bit in the night with each spell that was cast, making them easy targets despite the apparent darkness surrounding them.
For every spell one of the wizards set off, the fitter death eaters released at least three that missed. The defending wizards were more refined but slower, taking their time in shooting a spell and shielding with spells that exploded with each spell that hit them. They were losing ground, and fast, while being pushed into their house where they would be cornered and murdered, whether by fiendfyre or a killing curse.
He knew it would be best to end the Death Eaters where they stood, casting. Hadn't Voldemort ruined his soul with his senseless murders? A plan was fast forming in his head. They didn't even know he was there, Harry adjusted the cloak that covered him and crawled closer, his holly wand in hand.
He looked on for just a moment, planning.
One of the defending figures fell to a silent Cruciatus, bursting into screams and fitful turning. He winced, recalling phantom pains from the spell. It couldn't be a simple stinging charm, though he had never known a death eater to play fair or legally.
A high pitched scream came from the mansion.
Harry swallowed as the other death eaters laughed at the writhing and screaming wizard. He cast the first spell.
"Bombarda!" Harry shouted, aiming at the feet of the Death Eaters. They lost their balance and Harry continued his attack by casting the banishing charm at the dirt that had flown up at the explosion. "Depulso!"
The apparent leader whistled, looking directly at him. The last defender continued to attack. His enemies disappeared after huddling up together in what must have been a portkey. Harry could only sigh in relief.
He had done his part in ending the war with Voldemort and his death eaters, he didn't need any more glory. He stood up and began to wander away, looking for an end to the property line. When he went to the Burrow, he'd tell Ginny about his little adventure. She'd tell Arthur, who would tell the aurors if these wizards didn't. He just needed a bit of a vacation away from all that was coming his way…
There wasn't a shout, just a flash of red from the corner of his eye. A stunner, he noted just before it hit him.
His tongue felt strange, kind of numb. There was something on him. A blanket? A distant wailing sounded in the distance and, as consciousness seeped into him, it grew closer.
"—Fleamont! Another bastard! This one's too old to make disappear!"
Harry sucked in a quiet breath as he woke up to those harsh words. He did not open his eyes as the witch continued her rant, though he stopped listening. He was tied up, blindfolded, and gagged.
"He's awake now, you ninny." A rich note of amusement lit up the voice of the other witch who spoke. "As I was the one who captured him, I shall be the one to interrogate him. Fleamont, be a dear and get your little trophy out of here."
There was the sound of a door opening and closing. A familiar set of grey eyes met his and Harry looked around the room proper.
There was a lot of red, reminding Harry of the Gryffindor common room in a sense, if it were a single bedroom. A large lamp that was a brass lion's head was above him, mouth open and providing light onto the bed he was on.
"My nephew is missing tonight, he's probably running around the countryside with his friends again. I will unbind you, your wand is on the end table next to you. When we found you," She waved her wand, vanishing the ropes that bound him, but Harry made no move to go for his wand. She continued in her soft voice as Harry watched the animated brooms zoom across the ceiling,"we thought you were him, which is why we took you to his bed."
"My name is Harry." He said to her, holding out his hand. She stared at him for a moment. He had no doubt that if they wanted him dead he would be dead. It wouldn't do well to offend them when they had even clothed him.
She slashed her wand downwards and his hand was forced back to his side with an audible snap as it hit his hip.
"Shower before you reach for any of us, you were in the dirt if you would recall. Now, I know your name, I wish to know where you grew up and who you grew up with."
"I grew up with my aunt and uncle in Surrey." He answered, surprised that the words came out.
"Oh? What of your mother?"
"My mother died when I was young." Grey eyes blinked and grey hairs appeared on the previously impeccably black scalp. Harry noted that she was aging steadily before his eyes.
"How old are you?"
"I am seventeen."
"Very well, drink this. We dosed you with Veritaserum while you were sleeping." He stared between her and the phial in her hand. "Come now, child, if we wanted to kill you, we'd have done it already."
He swallowed the whole phial down at that assurance.
"I am Dorea Potter, but you will call me Auntie Dory from now on. My husband will decide what he is to you when he gets out of Saint Mungo's." With a sinking stomach, Harry asked his first question.
"What's the name of your nephew?"
"James." Her airy response was met with her snapping her fingers. A female, if the large round nose was anything to go by, house elf appeared.
"Get my nephew some robes from that stylish new robe shop with money from my accounts and let Fleamont know that his story matches what we believe."
"Yes, Mistress Dory." The house elf apparated away. His mind was growing less clouded by the second.
"What's your ambition, child?" Harry thought for a moment. This was a new start and the Dumbledore imposter had encouraged him to have some fun. Harry stared at the crimson red sheets for a moment before answering.
"I want to help people when I become an auror."
The door opened with a bang and a familiar wizard entered the room, a teenager struggling against his grip.
"Up, young man."
Harry slipped out of the bed, nothing could prepare him for what happened next. The teenager shot him a look of loathing—"What were you doing on my bed?"
"Now, now, James…"
Harry grabbed his wand. Dorea grabbed his shoulder and dragged him out of the room, a severe frown on her face. Harry looked back at the boy and his father, surprised how bratty the boy who would be his father had been.
"We'll get your room decorated later, Harry." The room was a literal blank canvas. The canopy bed appeared to have been carved out of ivory and the rest of it was just as white with a lack of color. Harry turned to look at Dorea.
"Do you need me to tuck you in?" She snapped, guiding him to the bed anyway. "Those robes aren't yours, by the way. There should be new robes in the dresser in the morning and through that door will be your bathroom. I trust muggles bathe?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Good, there should be a bottle of shampoo and conditioner in the bathroom along with the finest soap money can buy, feel free to use it. You smell like death." With those parting words, Dorea left the room. Harry went to the bathroom to do just that.
Harry woke with his mind cool and clear. His eyes darted from around the clear, white room he was in. His eyes narrowed as he noticed the bracelet on his right hand. If he knew anything about runes, he could have read it.
The runes glowed faintly as he gripped his wand and felt… nothing.
He switched to his left hand and was relieved that he could feel magic at all. He'd gone to bed and hadn't felt anything, so what was this thing and why wouldn't it let magic flow from his wand hand?
He fiddled with it as a house elf appeared, it was smaller than any he'd seen before.
"Master Harry, Dobby is to be guiding you to the dining room for lunch."
"Nice to meet you, Dobby." Harry said to be polite. The house elf blinked and stared up at him with reverence, following him with wide eyes as he went to the dresser and found some robes. He decided to go with a simple loose black robe. It wasn't quite a Hogwarts robe, being that this one opened up more, but it was the only plain one in it.
He pulled it on and opened the door that would lead him to meet the people that lived here. He maintained his grip on his holly wand as he memorized the landmarks to the dining room. The house elf wrung its hands as they reached a large archway.
"I is being good elf?"
"Yeah. Thank you for helping me, Dobby." He burst into tears and was grabbed by another house elf, who had run up to whisk him away with a vague POP of apparition.
It seemed that the Malfoy's hadn't made him into a crybaby. Harry entered the room, finding it to be as red as that bedroom had been. There was only one free chair next to the gray haired wizard who was obviously the oldest. It was off to the edge.
He took the seat and looked at the faces that stared at him. A blond witch was glaring at him as though he were scum of the earth, the witch across from him had interrogated him the night before and was looking between him and the glaring witch. The men all had hair as messy as his with varying degrees of color.
"I don't think he should eat here," The witch was willing him to burst into flames with her gaze alone. Harry didn't get the chance to think as the man next to him laughed.
"Oh, Euphemia…" Was that really her name? Harry wondered if that was why she was so bitter… the wizard straightened up and glared at the man who sat next to her. "Fleamont, control her and remember whose house this is. This boy saved us and will therefore stay."
Harry swallowed as the food appeared before them.
"Why can't Sirius eat with us?" James shot him a pointed glare. Euphemia swallowed thickly and Dorea tittered before speaking up:
"James, your friends don't get to eat here until they agree to stop jinxing the food."
Harry examined the food around him, surprised by how… healthy it appeared to be. There were apples of various cooked states, the cinnamon apples were calling to him… he ignored it, waiting to see who would make the first move.
"Very good!" Fleamont said, "We're all alive and well thanks to Harry and if anyone has a problem with him being here, they can leave and refrain from eating!"
James's scowl deepened, muttering something that Harry didn't quite catch, the man next to him caught it, however.
"Would you rather we be dead?"
"No, Uncle Charlus—"
"Boy, I underwent a Cruciatus curse last night and I hope you never suffer from it in your life, but we are a family of honor and we don't leave debts unrepaid!" Harry swallowed, wondering…
"I don't even have my OWLs." Harry supplied, to change the look on James's face. Harry noted the faint amusement and silently sighed in relief. "Where would it be possible to take them?"
"If you want to be an auror, you'll need five NEWTs as well, my child." Dorea said, voice gentle. "We'll sign you up for Hogwarts if you'd like."
He swallowed as Euphemia began to pile food on her plate. It was followed by James, who glared at his food.
"I don't have a galleon to my name—"
"So we'll pay for it!" Fleamont said with a chuckle. Harry opened his mouth to protest but Fleamont beat him to it. "Take it as two lives for a career!"
"More if you consider what would have happened to my wife and yours." Charlus responded. Harry looked between the two men and saw the intense stare between them. Unnerved, Harry asked Dorea:
"What are they doing?"
"They're mind speaking via the art of Legilimency. It is an art you'd do well to look out for."
"Right…" He piled some apples and meat onto his plate, taking only what he would eat. Before he could take a bite, Euphemia began to cry. He said before he could stop himself, "I'm not a threat, ma'am."
She stood up, the men not paying attention as engrossed in their mental conversation as they were.
"Yes, you are! You want to steal my son's fortune!" Dorea giggled and shook her head as the witch continued. "My son was in this house first, you would do well to remember your place as a mere bastard, even if you were born first! James is legitimate!"
She left without another word.
Harry looked at James and saw the embarrassment on his face. Harry grabbed his goblet and lifted in toast to him, "To bastards saving lives?"
"That works…" Dorea muttered, lifting her goblet up. James did so as well, face red.
He was holed up in the library for the remainder of the day, the next day he was still reading the books he'd been using to study. Fleamont entered, possibly to make sure he was studying for his OWLs test from the Ministry of Magic.
"It's harder at Hogwarts, I hear." He said with a warm smile, "You don't have a formal education, though. You'll need to catch up."
He knew that they would be a breeze, especially with Defense being his specialty.
Harry looked at the wizard's expectant face and responded, "Thank you, sir—"
"None of that 'sir' business, my boy! Just do your best and make it into the NEWTs you need!"
"Thank you… I'll get back to studying." He did so, pretending Fleamont wasn't there for a good thirty minutes. The man was writing something down in a leather bound book when he looked at him again. Harry resumed reading, though the scritching of his quill left him annoyed.
"Daa!" James ran into the library as Harry went about putting away his things. It was a harsh thing to realize that studying would be impossible with the Marauder around.
"Yes, James?"
"I think I've done it! I've mastered the Wronski Feint!" Harry snorted into his book; it was a basic move. Becoming seeker in his first year left him with an ease in the air and—James was in his face.
"I'd like to see the likes of you outfly me!"
"I…"
"Splendid idea! I'll get Charlus to get the old snitch!" Fleamont was gone, book and all.
"Come on, mate. We'll see who makes it." Harry nodded, mute as he followed the boy out of the room.
He spotted three other boys waiting for them outside of the library.
Harry swallowed as he caught sight of Peter Pettigrew, rage filling him before he swallowed down the shakes and the urge to curse the boy.
"This is my big brother, apparently." James said while giving him a dirty look. "He thinks he can outfly me."
"Doubt it." Sirius said and Pettigrew snickered. Remus introduced himself.
"I'm Remus Lupin, these two are Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black."
"Why did Wormtail get a first introduction?"
"Because you got it last time!"
"No, actually," James said, amused, "That time was Remus who got the first introduction."
Harry cleared his throat, "I'm Harry, pleasure to make your acquaintance." James was already walking off with the others following him before Harry could hold out his hand. He did the only thing he could do in this situation and followed them.
He didn't own a broom right now but he figured that, by the size of this mansion, the Potters had at least one to spare. He pushed these thoughts away, unwilling to think on how his father had so much while he had had so little growing up.
"Sirius will be the judge—"
"He will not. Harry is only taking a break and I shall be the judge." Charlus stepped out into view, two brooms in his hands. Fleamont came with him, a familiar golden ball in his hands. Harry smiled involuntarily.
"Now, I will hand you your brooms." Charlus handed them brooms of a make he didn't recognize.
"Seekers turn around." Fleamont said, excitement brimming in his voice.
He and James turned away.
"I'll give you ten seconds to mount and—" They mounted with ease. "Kick off!"
Harry was up at a decent acceleration, but found the broom too slow as he looked around for the snitch. James ducked for the ground, still too high for a proper Wronski Feint. Harry rolled his eyes and began to look for the golden ball.
It was hidden well, he discovered ten minutes later. James kept with his Wronski Feint before Harry got sick of it. He bolted off and away from him, finding his broom too slow compared to his old Firebolt. Harry sighed softly as he pulled up higher still, before diving to the ground.
Just before he made an impact with the ground, he barrel rolled away.
He took off as he finally found the snitch. He caught it, but was horrified when he looked back to see James on the ground where the boy had crash landed. He landed nearby, off to the side, asking…
"Will he be okay?"
"Don't say anything to Euphemia, please!" Fleamont said, more to the boys than him. "She hates watching him fly!"
"Shouldn't we take him to Saint Mungo's?" Remus asked.
Harry didn't hesitate as James groaned pitifully. He reached downwards, helping the boy to his feet.
"How do I look?" James asked.
Oh, look, a new story. I can't say much about this beyond that I did some plotting and I have basic ideas of where I want to go with it. I didn't make things too tight like I did with my Fem!Harry story, but I know where I want to go, unlike with Cygnus Lestrange. I hope I can complete this fic. If anyone would like to beta, please let me know. I have everything in Google Docs.
The opening is italicized because it was taken word for word from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.