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Chapter Forty-One—Speaking With Allies

"You don't mind that I invited them over without asking you?"

"But you told me about them yesterday."

Fred raised his eyebrows at George. They'd only just come out of the Floo, and the first thing they heard was Harry and Jonathan arguing over whether they were supposed to be there.

"So welcome, brother mine," George whispered back.

"It sounds like we might be," Fred said. And at the moment, honestly, the Potters' house was more welcoming than home. Ron hadn't got over the fact of their being Sorted into Slytherin yet. Mum wouldn't let them play pranks on Ron now, even though she hadn't cared that much when they were younger, because she kept saying they were Hogwarts students now and they couldn't use magic outside of school. And she also kept saying Ron was just ten and a child and they had to leave him alone.

Fred didn't see why. They'd pranked him all through their childhood and Mum had never said anything about the Ministry sensing their magic then.

"And Ron just deserves it when he won't shut up," George muttered, finishing his thought.

Fred nodded and was about to say something else when the door to the little sitting room opened and Harry and Jonathan came in. Jonathan looked the way he usually did, grinning at them, although maybe less shy than he was at school.

Harry looked…

Fred exchanged another glance with George. They hadn't more than half believed Jonathan when he told them they should come to his house to meet his brother, of all people, but it did seem as if something interesting was going on.

Harry walked as though he was years older than they knew he was. He was younger than Ron, in fact. And his eyes were bright and clear and then he let go of something or turned some kind of key and Fred gasped as pure magic flooded the room.

George shook his head as if to get water out of his ears. "Great bloody Merlin," he said. "Who are you?"

"Harry Potter." There was a moment when Harry hesitated, and then he added, "In this lifetime."

Fred exchanged looks with George again. He knew that some people thought they were stupid because they played pranks all the time and didn't care about marks, but they knew they were plenty intelligent. And they knew when someone was lying to them, most of the time. It was part of the reason they were such good liars themselves.

Harry wasn't lying.

"So, mind telling us what this is about?" George asked, casually. He stood a little in front of Fred. Fred appreciated that. He would be the one to strike if they had to, or grab George and run if they had to. George was the one who took more risks, but only slightly. And Fred was faster, but only slightly.

Put their strengths to work and fool people with their similarities. It was how they always did things.

Since being Sorted into Slytherin, they sometimes had to do things that way more often.

"I know that your family isn't happy about your Sorting. I can't think of any world where they would be. I wanted to offer you this house as a refuge in case you need to get away during the summer or holidays. And if something happens at the school that means you need to run away from it, then you can come here, too."

Fred gasped before he could stop himself. Harry was looking at him now, and that power was burning in his eyes. Fred rubbed his arms. It felt as though someone was pressing a heavy blanket down all around him.

"But why would you do that for us?" George asked.

"Because I know what it's like to be left alone and scorned by people, or even just feel that way. And you're Jonathan's friends. And you've always been my friends or allies in my lifetimes." Harry hesitated. "You don't have to. But I wanted you to know it was an option."

George looked back swiftly over his shoulder. Fred thought for a second about what his twin's eyes were asking, but then nodded. Honestly, it was their best choice.

"Then we'll accept the invitation and gladly," George said. "But what about your parents?"

"Well, they probably won't accept that you're here all the time without your parents' permission. That is to say, Mum might, but Dad wouldn't yet. So you'll have to hide and sneak around so that he doesn't see you. Can you do that?"

Fred took a step forwards so that he was standing shoulder-to-shoulder with his twin. Because Harry had spoken those words not with the scorn in his voice that so many people—that their Mum—used about lying and sneaking, but just like he would ask any ordinary question.

"You really did know us," said Fred. "You liked all the other versions of us?"

Harry's smile changed his face. Fred blinked at his twin. It was like seeing the way that Dad smiled when he thought no one was around to notice from outside the family. Harry's face was suddenly softer and brighter.

If he's like Dad, then he might be reasonable even with all the lives he's lived, Fred thought, and faced Harry again.

"Of course I did," Harry said. "There were times I had to tell you that you couldn't play a certain prank, for example if someone was scared of spiders and you planned to unleash a whole horde of them. And there were times that you didn't much like me. But I have fond memories of you from my first life, and that's only been strengthened since then."

"So how many—"

"Lives have you lived?" Fred finished for George, falling back into the familiar rhythm of the communication style they preferred. They just hadn't wanted to annoy someone who seemed powerful and unknown.

"This is my twenty-eighth."

Fred's brain reeled for a second, trying to absorb that information and failing. George was gaping, too. But he recovered faster, the way he always did. "How is that possible? Did you drink—"

"The Elixir of Life?" Fred asked eagerly, thinking of all the other stories and legends they'd ever read or heard that promised someone could be immortal if they did the right thing. "Or what about—"

"Transforming into a part-phoenix? Or how about having an ancestor who was a phoenix?"

"Couldn't be, twin mine," Fred muttered, still thinking hard. "The blood wouldn't have transferred between lives."

Harry and Jonathan both laughed. "If you two would just stop talking for once, then my brother is trying to tell you," said Jonathan, laying a hand on Harry's shoulder for a second.

Fred caught George's eye and they nodded. Sometimes they had wondered who Jonathan was really loyal to besides them, because they knew it sure as hell wasn't Dumbledore. But now it all made sense.

"These," Harry said, and held out his hands. A second later, with no transition, there was a wand in his left hand and a stone in his right hand, and a cloak draped over his arm.

George hesitated, but Fred's intuition was faster like George's recovery time was. "The Deathly Hallows," he said. "You have the bloody Deathly Hallows. And you're only nine years old."

"Yes," Harry said, and looked at them as if he was waiting for something.

Fred didn't want to disappoint. "So can we hold them?" he asked, and only waited for Harry's nod before he reached for the Elder Wand.

It didn't feel as different from his own ordinary wand as he'd expected, to his quiet disappointment. He'd thought maybe it would light up the room or turn him pink or make him explode. (He trusted that Harry could pick up the pieces). But other than a slight tingle of heat running up to his arm, everything was normal.

George insisted on holding the wand next, and then the Resurrection Stone. That felt cold to Fred. The Invisibility Cloak just felt silky. He handed them back and huffed a little. "Why are they exactly like ordinary items? Is that just a disguise?"

Harry shook his head. "They would respond fast enough if you tried to use them against their will," he said dryly. "But they are good at making sure that that doesn't happen. They seem uninteresting to most people. Or useful, but not in the way that they think the Deathly Hallows are."

Fred was realizing something else, and he nudged George. George looked at him, and picked up on the realization. He began to smile, too.

Now it just remained to be seen if Harry would actually tell them what they wanted to know.

"You must know—"

"So many secrets. You know, with all the lives you've lived, and the time you've had to research magic and—"

"People. If you know about us, you must know about other people, right? Like some of the Slytherins we live with, and our beloved—"

"Brother Percy?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Stop fishing for information. You're quite able to find it on your own." He turned back to Jonathan. "Did you tell them anything about what they might have to swear before I can take them more into my confidence?"

Jonathan shook his head, at the same time as Fred and George looked at each other and clapped hands together. There was more.

Of course, there probably would be when someone had lived twenty-eight lives and was hiding secrets from his parents and recruiting people to do something, Fred thought. He let George ask, "What would we have to swear?"

"To maintain silence on what exactly we're doing." Harry's eyes moved back and forth from one of them to the other, and Fred blinked, sure that not only did Harry know them, he saw them as individuals. It was slightly unnerving. "We're going to fight a war, but not the one you think."

Fred's intuition struck him like lightning again. "You mean that we're going to fight against Headmaster Dumbledore?" He exchanged nervous glances with George. They knew that their Mum and Dad were loyal to Dumbledore, although not really what "loyal" meant. Something about the war and fighting against the pure-bloods who wanted to keep Muggleborns out of Hogwarts, though.

Weird. I wouldn't have thought Harry wanted to keep Muggleborns out of Hogwarts.

"Yes, I should have assumed you'd pick that up." Harry only sounded resigned. "And it's a pity, because Dumbledore and I are really on the same side. The problem is that he thinks the war with Voldemort is going to resume any minute. I know that it's really a lasting peace and Voldemort is interested in other things now."

Fred couldn't help flinching at the name, and neither could George. Of course, that was only because they didn't hear it that often, Fred told himself sternly. Certainly not because they were afraid. Not really.

"How can you know that?" George asked.

"Because I'm one of the people who helped arrange for that peace." Harry was looking at both of them now, stepping back a little bit to do it. "Can you be prepared to be swear a wand oath before you leave today? It's not the most binding one I could have you do, but some of the secrets I could tell you, I'd have to get permission to tell, anyway."

Fred turned and looked at George. George turned and looked at him. They worked best like this, staring at each other and reading each other's faces with little motions of their heads and hands.

Honestly, Fred could say that he wanted this more than he'd wanted anything lately except for Ron to stop being a prat. This was big. They were going to get to learn important secrets and help someone who was immortal and maybe even play pranks on important people before they were even in their second year at Hogwarts!

But if George felt differently, then Fred wanted to know.

Of course, when George rolled his eyes at him and sighed a little, Fred grinned. He should have known better than to doubt his twin. George believed the same way Fred did and wanted the same things. Of course they did. Fred turned back to Harry and nodded, and talked because George had been lately. "We're sure."

"All right. Then take out your wands and repeat after me…"

"And you have brought these children into a position where they can betray you?"

Harry sighed as he leaned back on the tree behind him. The clearing where he and Voldemort regularly met looked less wild every time he saw it. The benches that he and Voldemort had once Transfigured from roots only once in a while were now permanent conjurations, and Voldemort had begun to smooth them out and added arms and backs. There was a chair where a stump had once been, and a dueling ring marked out with burn marks on the ground. Voldemort had been working on what Harry was certain was a summoning circle when he arrived tonight, although at the moment only the outer ring, of iron, had been set in place.

"Not where they can betray you," he reassured Voldemort, who sat next to him on the bench and stared the way he did when Harry was anywhere near. Harry had got used to it. So many lives where he had been famous or infamous had helped with that. "I didn't tell them anything about what you're really like. Just that I'm powerful enough to be an equal that I can negotiate with you."

"I did not say me. I said you. They could betray you with what they know now."

"No, they couldn't. I made them swear a wand oath. Or were you too busy imagining ways to make me immortal to listen?"

Voldemort glared at him. Harry grinned back. Another unexpected thing lately, besides the mere fact that he could spend time with Voldemort at all, was that he wasn't intimidated or concerned by that glare.

"That oath is light, and easily broken. If they decided that they would rather run squealing to Dumbledore than work with you, then it could make them suffer a little pain and nothing more. You have too squeezable a heart."

"Everyone's hearts are squeezable, though. When you plunge your hands into people's chests on a regular basis, then you learn that."

"Which life was that?"

Voldemort was endlessly fascinated with his past lives. Harry thought it a bit strange and a bit endearing. "When I was a necromancer. There were rituals that I had to perform that—well, I was a bit insane in that life. That's all I want to say for right now."

Voldemort leaned back on the bench. He appeared to take pride in the way that the carved back he had added hit the middle of his back and cradled it. "When will you decide if you can bring them further into the secret?"

"When they're older," Harry said. "I'd like them to have at least another few months at Hogwarts before I start seeing what way they go. I know the twins from other lives, but they're not exactly the same here, either. They were never Sorted into Slytherin before."

Voldemort abruptly leaned forwards, his eyes narrowed and his expression fierce enough that Harry felt the Elder Wand stir in his robe sleeve. He maintained his calm posture and his gaze into Voldemort's eyes, however. Voldemort hissed out softly in Parseltongue, "I know that your birthday is drawing near. You must tell me what you want."

Harry blinked. "I hadn't thought about it. Honestly, I have all I want, except things that are impossible for me to get."

"Tell me what you want."

Harry shook his head. "I can't think of any material objects that I want. And I can't persuade Albus to leave the war well enough alone, and I can't free myself of the Deathly Hallows, and I have my brother back with me for the summer. What else could I have?"

Voldemort was silent, except for his fingers tapping on the bench. Harry did add, because he wanted to make the oddly frustrated expression on Voldemort's face go away, "I'll tell you something, though. I can't spend the whole day with you because my family will want to celebrate with me. But I'll make sure to Apparate away in the evening when they've gone to sleep. And—would you like to meet my brother?"

Voldemort reared back in a snake-like gesture. Then he said, "You would trust me that much."

Harry nodded. "You're you, not the other Voldemorts from other worlds."

Voldemort was very still for a moment, as though he assumed any untoward motion would make Harry change his mind. Then he said, "That would be a true gift."

Harry smiled. At least the frustrated expression was gone. It was becoming important to him to make Voldemort comfortable in his presence if he could.

Much like I would any other friend.