A/N: I'm really sorry for the wait! My 4 year old and I became quite ill with tonsillitis so I've had very little energy to do anything other than sleeping and taking care of my boy. Thanks to good old Muggle medicine, the NHS and the wonders of sleep, I'm on my way to getting better, so I bring this chapter to you.
Writing Dumbledore in the last chapter gave me the Ick. Yeah, I wanted him to be that horrible, but it just made me feel gross as I wrote him. I'm just glad you all hate him as much as I do.
But let's carry on where we left our favourite duo, shall we?
Chapter 8: The Plan
"So, Harry's a Potter. Any relation to James?" He asked, trying to clear the air.
Harry smirked at him.
"Wouldn't you like to know."
Hermione rolled her eyes at the playful twinkle in Harry's eyes. She hadn't seen him this happy in a long while, and this was only from speaking to his parents and godfather during a lesson. Merlin knew how he was going to be outside of the classroom.
"I would, actually." James spoke from beside Sirius. "There's not many Potters in the world."
"How about we save that for after class?" Hermione asked as she smiled softly. "I'm sure you'd bore everyone else to tears as you figure out your family tree together." A few people snorted, as if that was exactly what would happen.
Hermione turned her head to look at the clock to see how much time they had left in the lesson. It was only a single period, which gave them an hour with the Seventh Years. It was currently 9.47, so they had just over 10 minutes left before the bell ring to signal the end of class. She had hoped that they could talk more about the syllabus but talk of her attack had taken precedence. Still, they had a double class with them on Friday afternoon, so hopefully they could talk more theory then.
"Does anyone have any more questions before the end of class?" Harry asked, as if he could read Hermione's mind.
A Hufflepuff that was sat in the middle of the classroom raised her hand slowly. At Hermione's encouraging smile, she mumbled her question.
"Are you dating each other?"
Harry and Hermione's attention snapped from her to each other faster than Harry's firebolt. A light blush rose on Hermione's cheeks as she diverted her attention back towards the Hufflepuff. Harry coughed a few times.
"Ah, no. No, we're not seeing each other. Just friends." Harry pressed his lips together in a forced smile. Hermione was studiously looking anywhere but at him, and it hurt him a bit. Did it embarrass her, thinking of the two of them together? Did it repulse her? Why wouldn't she look at him?
A few of the girls in the classroom looked instantly relieved, grinning at each other. This made Hermione frown. Sure, she knew that it was natural to have a crush on a teacher, especially one as good looking as Harry, but surely they knew that nothing would happen while they're still at school. Even if they were closer to them in age than a teacher normally would have been.
It hurt, just a little bit, when Harry had said that they were just friends. It was true, after all, they weren't anything more than friends. But the finality in which he said it made it seem like they would never get past anything other than friends to each other. She should have known, really. Harry had been pining over Ginny for so long, and now that they were here, he was sure to be grieving a relationship that he had lost.
Did she hope that one day she could tell Harry how she felt? Sure, of course. Perhaps that day would never happen now if that was how he saw her. Friends. Nothing more.
Her chest felt hollow suddenly as she looked at her feet. She was damaged goods anyway. First, the scar on her chest from Dolohov's silenced curse in the Department of Mysteries at the end of their Fifth year. Then, the Mudblood scar and the scar on her neck when Bellatrix tortured her at Malfoy Manor in April. Then, the werewolf attack that left her leg in ruins.
No, there was no way someone like Harry, someone so good and so deserving of normalcy once this blasted war was finally over, would want someone like her.
And she was going to have to get used to that, quickly.
"I have a question too." Lily said, raising her hand. She had seen the look on Hermione's face and wanted to take away some of the tension that suddenly engulfed the room. She had been curious about something since the class began but didn't have the guts to say anything until now. "Why do you have your arm glamoured?"
Hermione tensed. Her fingers gripped the table edge tightly and her eyes slowly met the emerald green ones she had grown to love. She swallowed heavily, and tried to look elsewhere, but the concern in Lily's eyes drew her in. She even looked like Harry when he worried over someone he cared about.
She could feel Harry's gaze on her too.
"You don't have to answer," Harry said softly. Hermione dared to glance at him and saw the same worry in his eyes that was in Lily's.
Of course she had to answer. She might not be ready to tell the truth to the classroom yet, but she couldn't hide the fact that someone noticed her glamour. She thought she had done a good job at concealing the scar that morning, but clearly not if people could sense the magic on her arm.
Why was it that she could happily speak about her werewolf attack, but anything to do with that night in Malfoy Manor made her want to run for the hills?
"Um," Hermione coughed to clear her suddenly dry throat. She wished she'd thought to bring some water but didn't think it was necessary for such a small class time. "I'm not exactly comfortable speaking about it, that's why I have it glamoured. Something happened a few months ago, one of the reasons why both Harry and I are here. If I'm honest, I don't think any of you are ready to learn about it yet, but that is why we're here. To prepare you for the outside."
"Did a Death Eater do that?" Sirius asked harshly, his steel grey eyes glaring at the Slytherins that sat along the wall. They all glared back just as heatedly.
"Something like that." Hermione whispered, just as the bell ran loudly in the silent classroom.
Harry cleared his throat as the students began to gather their belongings for their next class.
"We'll see you on Friday, where we'll actually be teaching you something. IF you have any school-related questions in the meantime, you know where to find us." Harry called to the class as they began to shuffle out of the classroom. James caught his eye, gave him a firm nod, then followed the rest of his friends to their Transfiguration class.
Harry turned to Hermione, who had jumped off of the table. She landed awkwardly on her ankle and winced slightly but ignored the pain as she quickly made her way out of the classroom too. Harry made to go after her, but something told him not to. Something else had made her uneasy during their lesson. He could only hope that she came and talked about it to him soon, instead of bottling up like she usually did.
They had a free class now before lunch, so made his way up to their shared office. He hoped the other students weren't as curious as the Seventh Years.
oOoOoOo
Hermione could tell that something was wrong. Call it intuition or whatever, but something in her gut was telling her not to go to Headmistress McGonagall's office after dinner. She snuck a glance at Harry, wondering what he thought about the summons. Disappointingly, he was eating his cottage pie without a care in the world. She would have thought that he would have been at least the tiniest bit concerned about what McGonagall could want with them.
It wasn't unusual, they were new teachers and they had just finished their first day of classes. McGonagall probably wanted to know how they were settling in, how they felt their first day went, and if there was going to be a change in the syllabus.
She probably also heard about the rumours circulating the school about her leg; the true ones and the lies. She was thankful that the Seventh years had kept the glamour on her arm to themselves. She didn't fancy another outburst like that morning, especially after needing a calming draught to be able to return to class.
All day, she'd been answering the same questions about her injury, and each time she got roughly the same result; scared students who were too clueless about werewolf injuries, yet too closed minded to actually do some research. The younger the student, the more scared they were. Granted, students didn't learn about werewolves until Third Year, but even then the amount of theory that she had been given to teach about them was abysmal. One three-page chapter in a Dark Creatures book that she was sure was 100% anti-creature.
In that aspect, yes, there would be a change to the syllabus.
It didn't do for her students to be ignorant of magical creatures, dark or other wise. Yes, Care of Magical Creatures wasn't her class, but they still had to learn the basics of most the creatures in Defence Against the Dark Arts first.
Teaching them the correct theory of werewolves was high on her list of things to teach.
Thinking about werewolves made Hermione search out Remus from where he sat with the other Marauders at the far end of the Gryffindor Table. A small smile graced her lips as she watched James and Sirius exuberantly explaining something to Remus and Peter, their arms flying about as they emphasised their words with their hand motions. She couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but assumed it had something to do with Quidditch as Sirius had enchanted several pieces of broken breadsticks to hover in the air in front of them.
She watched as Peter frowned at them, saying something about the breadstick that floated past his face. Sirius barked out a laugh that even she could hear and snatched the breadstick from the air. He then proceeded to snap it in half and throw a piece at Peter, who tried to catch it before it fell onto the floor. Remus rolled his eyes at his friends, but still flung a spoonful of peas at Sirius' head. The four boys were now throwing food at each other, while the students around them tried to move away lest they be caught with mashed potato in their hair and a detention for causing a disturbance during dinner.
It had become a new hobby of hers, Hermione realised, watching the Marauders interact with each to her. It was painfully obvious to her how much Peter loved the other three boys. Sure, he followed them around like a lost puppy and would often listen to their words as if they were law, but she couldn't see any hint of potential betrayal within him. It made her wonder when Peter did betray his brothers in all but blood, tried to think of his reasonings for such a betrayal but came up short. It wasn't like her Remus and Sirius had told her when his switch happened; they were just as clueless about it as she was, and they had been a constant in his life right until James and Lily's deaths.
It was a mystery that she wanted to solve quickly so that she could prevent it from happening in the first place. All four of those boys deserved to grow up loved by each other, to have each other as they ventured into adulthood for the first time. They needed the strength of each other when reality got difficult, and their world changed drastically.
Hermione let out a small laugh as a jug full of gravy poured itself over his head. She watched as the thick sauce dropped down his hair and effectively ruined his white shirt. He huffed in annoyance at Peter, whose eyes had grown wide with fear. Clearly, Peter hadn't meant to enchant the whole gravy boat to empty itself onto James, but it happened anyway.
As if he heard her laughing at him, James' eyes found hers from all the way across the room. Seeing her laugh at him made him smile back at her and wink. His smile turned into a smirk as he saw a blush rise on her cheeks and she hastily looked away.
"Did my dad just wink at you?" Harry asked quietly, mouth agape. He had begun tucking into a treacle tart, clearly wanting to have a belly full to bursting for the meeting with McGonagall, when he noticed the exchange between Hermione and James. Something settled uncomfortably in his stomach when he saw the blush on Hermione's cheeks. It darkened at his accusation.
"Don't be silly, Harry. I doubt he would have winked at me." Hermione said offhandedly, trying desperately to fight the blush on her cheeks. "Besides, he winks at all the girls. He's such a flirt."
"Mmhmm," Harry hummed, frowning as he looked out at the sea of students. He had noticed that his father – whom he believed only had eyes for his mum and proclaimed his love for her in many different ways every day – flirted with anything in a skirt. He had even flirted with Headmistress McGonagall in the corridor after lunch. It was behaviour that he believed only Sirius to have – he had told them that he had been a flirt at school. Their roles seem to be in reverse here; Sirius was madly in love, while James flirted endlessly. The personalities of everyone else seemed to be the same; Peter was a mindless follower, Remus was quiet but bookish and tried his hardest to keep his friends in line, Lily was wild tempered but incredibly kind-hearted. Snape was still Snape. Not all things had to change. It was enough to give him a headache.
The last thing he needed, however, was his father to start flirting with Hermione.
Harry knew that she didn't fancy James, for more than one reason, but he couldn't understand why she would keep blushing around him. It wasn't like anything could happen. They were both teachers, fraternizing with students was strictly prohibited. Besides, the way that James was acting now, was the complete opposite of Hermione's type. That thought caused him to frown.
Why was he thinking about Hermione, her taste in men, and why he was so bothered that James was flirting with her. Heck, he wasn't even flirting. He winked. Once. Then re-engaged himself in the food fight the Marauders were having.
He needed to stop thinking about this before he drove himself mad.
Harry still didn't understand why Hermione was so upset earlier. She returned from a visit to Madame Pomfrey with a small smile on her face just as their next class began. Nothing more was said, but there wasn't that horrible tension in the air anymore.
Maybe she was just hurt from her leg and hadn't had her morning potions, that's why she was a bit off. Yeah, that's it. It had all to do with her injury and nothing to do with him saying they were only friends before having to have a conversation about her cursed scar on the arm. Nothing to do with what he said, at all.
That's what Harry told himself, anyway.
"Are you ready?" Hermione asked as she finished her glass of pumpkin juice. She wiped her mouth delicately with a black napkin before she stood from her seat. She smoothed down her skirt and stepped away from the table. Harry looked at her blankly, still lost in his thoughts. "Harry?"
"Y-yes. Sorry. What?" It was Harry's turn to flush as he realised she had been speaking to him for the past few minutes and he was too busy stuck in his own head to listen. It was a good job that she was used to that sort of behaviour with him and Ron, he thought to himself as she rolled her eyes and beckoned him over with a wave of her hand.
Shit. Ron.
He'd been so focused on trying to get to grips with being in this new universe, to being around his parents who were younger than him and very much alive, that he had forgotten to think about how they came to be here in the first place. To think of who they had left behind.
He started to wonder what had happened when they disappeared into the Room of Requirement. Did the battle continue? Did Voldemort win? Did someone kill the snake as planned, and finally kill Voldemort? Does Ron know what happened to them? Is he trying to find them?
"Harry, are you okay?" Hermione frowned softly as she stepped closer to him. She placed a hand on his forehead softly, feeling for a fever. "You're starting to feel warm. Is everything alright? You keep getting lost in your head. I can send a message to Minerva and ask her to reschedule this meeting if you need to see Madame Pomfrey or get some rest."
Harry grabbed Hermione's hands in his own as she began fiddling with the lapels on his grey jacket. She was rambling, worried about him being lost in his own head. His heard swelled, knowing that she couldn't stop worrying about him, not even for a second.
"I'm okay, I just got lost there for a bit." Harry chanced a look out of the corner of his eye towards the Gryffindor Table. Part of him hoped that nobody had noticed their interaction, but there was another part that hoped that the older boys saw her worrying over him and backed off.
Hermione was his, even if he was a long way off admitting such a thing to her.
Even if she didn't want him to be hers.
She'd been his since she was eleven years old and fixed his glasses for the first time on their first ever train ride to Hogwarts on the Hogwarts Express.
He had never had anyone take care of him before, even if it was by making sure his glasses weren't broken and knew right there that he belonged to Hermione Jean Granger.
Heart, body, soul.
He just wished she knew.
"If you're sure, Harry." Hermione didn't look convinced, but gently pulled her hands away from him. She smoothed down the back of her skirt again, likely out of nervousness rather than to make sure her dress was hanging properly.
"Positive, Hermione. I'll be fine, I promise." Harry gave her a tight smile. He moved around her and headed for the doorway near the Head Table that the teachers used to enter and exit the Great Hall. It was full of lovely shortcuts to their classrooms, offices and private quarters. "Are you coming?"
Hermione hesitated, watching Harry carefully. He smiled again, this time a bit more genuine than the last, and that seemed to be what Hermione was looking for. She returned his smile and followed him out of the Great Hall, using the passageway to McGonagall's office.
Before she left the Great Hall, she took one last look at the students eating their dinner. That uneasy feeling was still eating away at her stomach, and she feared that it had something to do with the meeting they had been invited to.
oOoOoOo
When Harry and Hermione entered Headmistress McGonagall's office, the last person they expected to be sat at the desk in front of her was Albus Bloody Dumbledore. But there he was. His body was turned so that he could watch them walk into the room, his eyes twinkling behind those goddamned half-moon spectacles. He was even wearing purple glittery robes that Harry swore he saw him wear once in his First year. His hair was greying, though still slightly auburn in places, and his beard wasn't nearly long enough to be tucked into a belt.
Even in a different Universe, Albus Dumbledore still had an aura about him that made you want to spill your deepest, darkest secret to him whilst also wanting to run for the hills.
It was unnerving to Hermione, to see Dumbledore sat there with a smile on his face that made her want to spill all of her secrets. She had hoped that the Dumbledore of this universe would be different, that he wouldn't be all for the Greater Good and raising children like lambs to be slaughtered. No, this Dumbledore was the same as the one that had died in her Universe. The fact that he was Head Unspeakable made it worse for her. Who knows what sort of magics and information Dumbledore could get his hands on while working in the Department of Mysteries? Who knows how many people are fooled by his Grandfatherly nature and warm smile?
How many people had he already manipulated for his own good, and not the good of the Wizarding Community?
Hermione now understood where her uneasy feelings were coming from. She'd had sixth sense about this meeting all evening.
Not that she believed in sixth senses or seeing or anything.
Still, there was something completely wrong about him being here, so soon after McGonagall had told them that he likely wouldn't be able to meet with them until October. She was instantly on edge, the shields going up in her mind in case Dumbledore tried legilimency on her.
She was so thankful that Harry had taken the time to teach her occlumency while they were on the run. There wasn't anything else to do, aside from researching the blasted horcruxes.
As quickly as she could, Hermione erected the familiar walls within her mind, hiding every important memory behind a strongly locked door. She was very proud of her occlumency shields, having taken inspiration from the doors within the Department of Mysteries. Anytime someone tried to break down her shields and look within a room, they would be diverted to another room rapidly, always moving, until they became too disorientated and had to bring themselves out of her mind.
It took a lot of practice, but Hermione had it mastered.
If she was feeling particularly spiteful, depending on who was trying to read her mind, she would let them open a door and let them see a memory of her at five years old, singing very loudly and extremely badly to Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen with her father in their living room.
Sometimes she'd play that memory just for herself when she was feeling particularly lonely and nostalgic for her parents.
"Professor Potter, Professor Wilkins. Thank you for meeting with us so soon." Headmistress McGonagall greeted them politely, indicating to them to sit in the other two empty chairs in the office. Harry sat in the one nearest to Dumbledore, while Hermione sat closest to the window. There wasn't much distance between the pair of them as they sat in their chair. There wasn't enough room in front of the desk for three chairs, so Harry and Hermione's knees knocked together gently every time one of them moved.
"Headmistress McGonagall," Harry nodded politely at McGonagall whilst Hermione smiled at her. His eyes flicked towards Dumbledore. "Head Unspeakable Dumbledore."
"You must be our Universal Time-Travellers." Dumbledore said to them with that twinkle still in his blue eyes. A smiled graced his face, but it was no where near as genuine as it should have been. It was cold and calculating as he watched them. "Forgive me, I do not have the pleasure of knowing you like you know me."
Pleasure indeed, Hermione thought, trying to stop the grimace from making its way onto her face. She hid it behind a tight smile, looking at the wall behind Dumbledore's head rather than directly at the elder wizard. She knew he was a powerful legillimens, he had been in their universe, but she didn't know how powerful he was. She didn't want to accidentally look into his eyes and give away the fact that she was an occlumens.
That was something she'd rather keep to herself, thanks.
Harry glanced at her and, seeing that she wasn't going to make the first move and noticing that her occlumency shields were up (if the lack of shine in her honey eyes was anything to go by), leaned forward and offered his hand for Dumbledore to shake.
"Harry Potter. And this is Hermione Granger."
Dumbledore's eyebrows rose at the different surname Hermione was introduced as, and the familiar one of Harry's.
"We decided that it might be safer and easier for Hermione to go by a different name. We don't know if there will be another Muggle-born Hermione Granger in this world, but another Harry in the Potter line can be easily answered." McGonagall answered his unspoken question. Dumbledore nodded once at her, easily accepting her response. "As you can understand, we need to make their presence in this world legitimate. It wont be long before certain parents start snooping and asking questions."
Dumbledore knew exactly who McGonagall was hinting at. It wouldn't take long before James Potter would owl his parents a letter about his new Defence Professor. He would obviously mention the startling resemblance to himself and other members of his family, as well as his name. His parents would then do some snooping of their own to find any information on Harry, as they should know their family tree well enough to know that he doesn't belong even though there are claims that he does. It would be messy business, trying to prove himself as part of the Potter line when there was a Potter family he could hide behind and become heir to.
Charlus and Dorea Potter.
Both deceased now, as well as their son. Nobody knew his name, how old he was, or where he schooled. As soon as Dorea fell pregnant, the whole family seemed to fall off the map as it were. They severed ties with the other members of their family and the Wizarding world. No one would bat an eye if their son suddenly appeared and claimed their long-forgotten inheritance and slotted himself back into Wizarding society.
All it would take was a bit of highly illegal blood magic and some false documentation.
It could be done within the hour, then no one would ever be the wiser.
Getting Hermione fixed into the world would be a lot simpler than some blood magic. As she didn't have any magical ancestors to claim as her own, she would be able to live as a Muggle-born still. It would be easy enough to falsify both Muggle and Magical documentation. Fixing her situation would take less than five minutes, in Dumbledore's opinion.
Yes, it was still illegal, the whole situation between the Time-Travellers warranted a one-way ticket to Azkaban. But Dumbledore didn't get a pardon from the Minister for nothing.
"Minister Minchum has requested that I correct the issues with the Time Line by any means necessary. He has assured me that Azkaban will be avoided as long as I correct everything that has been wronged." Dumbledore peered at Harry and Hermione, trying to gauge their reaction. Did they already know what needed to be done? Do they know what they've destroyed? What their untethered presence in this world has done to the future?
"The Time Line? How do they know what's happened to the Time Line?" Hermione asked before she could stop herself. She planned to let Dumbledore keep talking, to see if he was willing to divulge the truth of their situation to them or keep the important pieces to himself, but her curiosity had gotten the better of her.
"In the Time Room, all the Unspeakables that work there are tasked with several things, but mostly to keep the Laws of Time adhered to as well as keeping the Time Line safe and whole." That damned twinkle appeared in Dumbledore's eye again. "Since your arrival back to this time, the Time Line seemed to have reset itself. No longer are certain events at play, and it so suspected to be due to some sort of foul play in regards to the Laws of Time, but no Laws have been broken. The Lead Unspeakable for the Time Room is working overtime to figure out how and why the Laws of Time haven't just been broken, but torn apart so violently that the future is no longer recognised. She even fears that several prophecies have changed or have been erased due to the change in the Time Line, but it is impossible to prove."
"So, us appearing in this Time and this Universe has confused the Time Line, so it doesn't know what is happening?" Hermione asked.
"The Ministry as a record of the future, so they know how everything is meant to play out?" Harry asked Dumbledore at the same time. He glanced at Hermione and saw her frowning as she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. She was deep in thought, probably trying to remember what the Time Room from their Universe was like.
"That's nothing like what I remember from our Universe, Harry. That must be one of the big differences between these worlds. This Ministry of Magic seems to be far more involved with the Laws of Time than ours. Our Time Room had only Time-Turners and the diaries of Eloise Mintumble. This Time Room sounds like they have a greater awareness of the future than ours ever did." Hermione looked at Dumbledore, her occlumency shields still holding strong. "I imagine, for instance, that your Time Line would have said how James and Lily Potter's deaths impacted the downfall of Lord Voldemort."
"James and Lily?" Dumbledore frowned at her, but that twinkle in his eye shone brighter. "Heavens, My Dear, James and Lily weren't part of his downfall. Sirius and Marlene Black are. Or, they were. It is unclear if they are still involved now that the Time Line is in disarray. I am hoping that cementing your lives here will fix the Time Line so that everything goes back to normal. As normal as it can be when Time and Universal Magic is at play."
Harry and Hermione looked at each other, both holding their breaths. Neither of them had expected Dumbledore to be so forthcoming with the news of the altered Time Line, but neither had they expected to hear that Sirius and Marlene, not James and Lily, would be the ones to die by Voldemort's hand before he is defeated for the first time. An uncomfortably feeling settled into Harry's stomach.
Everything that he had seen from his parents and the other Marauders was starting to make sense now. It wasn't James and Lily that were supposed to be together, to birth the child destined to be Voldemort's equal, but Sirius and Marlene. It explained how James was acting more like the Sirius he had been told about, and how Sirius was desperately trying to prove his love to Marlene.
Did that mean that there definitely wouldn't be a Harry Potter in this Universe? Did that mean that James and Lily might not end up together at all? That they would marry different people, have different children, have different lives?
Did that mean that things were still so different here, that he and Hermione might not be able to stop Voldemort before the time came?
Did Voldemort even have Horcruxes here?
Harry could feel a headache start to make it's ugly appearance at the back of his head. He pressed his fingers to his temple and rubbed them in small circles to try and stave off the migraine before it got worse.
"I think I'm going to be sick," Hermione whispered as she stared at McGonagall's head unseeingly. That was definitely the last thing she had expected, and now her brain was alight with different worries and questions just like Harry. Unlike Harry, however, she wasn't working herself into developing a migraine but rather a strong sensation of nausea and stomach cramping.
"I think that maybe speaking of what was the Time Line can be done another day, perhaps once we know what is happening to it once Professors Potter and Wilkins have settled into this Universe." McGonagall said to Dumbledore from behind her desk. She reached into a draw within her desk and pulled out two small vials, and offered them to the young Professors. "It is a calming draught. I expect you'll need some before you continue."
Hermione was the one to reach over to take the vials from McGonagall's hand. She muttered a thank you and passed one to Harry. She unstoppered it and, after smelling it to make sure that it was a calming daughter, tipped it down her throat without pausing to take notice of the unpleasant taste. As soon as she placed the empty vial on McGonagall's table, she felt the effects of the calming draught take over her, and a soft sigh escaped her. It was just what she needed to stop her brain from working itself into a frenzy. It wouldn't do to act as such in front of someone like Dumbledore.
"What do we do now then?" Harry asked as he placed his own empty vial on the desk in front of him. He chose to stare at McGonagall rather than look at Dumbledore. "What happens now? I understand that we won't be arrested for breaking, or not breaking, these Time Laws, but we still need to have our place in this world legitimised. Then we can go about our business at teaching these students and saving the world. Again."
Dumbledore's brows rose at Harry's words. Again? They had already saved the world from Voldemort in their own time and world? The gears started churning as he tried to plan ways of keeping true pair of them close to him. He needed to gain their loyalty. He needed to win their trust, however he could.
"I believe the main focus of my being here is to make sure that you and Professor Wilkins are legitimate teachers, and that you are Charlus and Dorea's rightful heir." Dumbledore said to him. He shifted I. His seat as he pulled out two stacks of parchment from his inside robe pocket. He passed then to Harry and Hermione respectfully. "Professor Wilkins needs only to fill in this stack of forms so I can approve her documentation and file them in the Records Room, so that none would be the wiser. You, Professor Potter, will need to fill out a blood adoption form also. It is mildly illegal, as blood adoption I had been outlawed half a century ago, but it is the only way for you to be recognised as Charlus and Dorea's heir. Once these forms have been filed away, then you will be able to go about your lives as planned. You shall be able to open a Gringotts' account and any exams required to prove your legitimacy as Teachers. It will be as if you had been born here this whole time."
Hermione looked over the parchments as Dumbledore spoke. It looked simple enough to complete, to be honest she was surprised that they didn't need any more information from her. They needed her birth date, place of birth, parents names, and her wand specifics. It didn't need a blood offering like Harry's did. Though, she supposed it was because he needed to be adopted into the Potter family tree and she wasn't trying to claim such a thing herself. She borrowed a quill from McGonagall and filled out the required information while Harry did the same. When she was finished, she watched as on Harry's final page he smeared some blood from a pricked fingertip onto a large space on the parchment.
She wasn't sure what she expected from a blood adoption, but the ease of such a think was shocking to her. Hermione thought there would be spells to chant, potions to brew, and a lot more blood to spill than what Harry had sacrificed. There was a small worry that it wouldn't work, that the blood adoption wasn't completed properly, and that they would be found out.
The parchment that Harry had smeared his blood onto began to glow a bright blue colour, quickly blinding everyone in the room. They all shielded their eyes from the parchment until the glowing stopped and the parchment was its off-yellow colour once more. Harry rose his eyebrows at the parchment, watching as words began to appear where his blood once was.
It was a small family tree, and proclaimed in very large, very bold letters;
Harold James Potter
B. 31 July 1959
Son of
Charlus Abraham Potter
B. 16th December 1919
D. 6th August 1977
And
Dorea Violetta Potter (née Black)
B. 8th May 1920
D. 6th August 1977
A lot had happened in the 40 minutes Harry and Hermione had spent in McGonagall's office with her and Dumbledore. There were certainly more questions than answers, more than Hermione liked, and a lot more confusion around their situation. They still didn't know what happened to them, why they were there, and if they could go back.
But there was one thing that Harry couldn't get out of his head as he stared at the parchment proclaiming his ties to this world. He was officially Charlus and Dorea's son, both who had died not even a month ago. He was part of this world now, even if he had to take over the identity of their son (whether he was known to anyone or not, he now no longer existed and Harry felt a small amount of guilt for it).
That wasn't even the thing that plagued Harry's mind.
What stood so prominently in Harry's mind was something so mundane that even Hermione laughed incredulously when he spoke it aloud.
"As if my real name is Harold."