They got back just in time to hear Mrs Weasley call, "It's dinner time! Get down here!"

The three teenagers hurried downstairs, leaving their possessions in their room. By the time they were at the table, there weren't enough chairs for them all to sit together, so Harry slipped in next to Remus and George. As Harry ate, careful to remember his recent time at the Dursleys, he watched Remus and Sirius.

The two giggled and pushed each other, and Harry was wondering why he hadn't noticed just how close they were, when he repeated those words in his head. Just how close they were.

He kept watching them, the not so subtle hand holding, the incessant touching, and a question bloomed in Harry's mind. He reminded himself of Tonks, of Teddy, but he kept on watching, and then his mouth, seemingly of its own accord, burst out, "Is there something happening here?"

His hand waved towards the two. Remus just smiled calmly, but before he had the chance to say anything, Sirius cut in with a, "Yeah! Moony refuses to pass the pepper."

"Sirius, I'm not refusing to give it to you, Fred is using it, and I don't think that's what Harry was talking about."

Sirius paused, "Oh."

He looked between Remus and him, before awkwardly muttering, "I don't know."

Remus sheepishly smiled, "We were dating before," he waved his hand aimlessly, "We're still kind of figuring it out."

Sirius looked painfully awkward sitting there.

Harry kind of regretted saying anything.

But this was important. By keeping people alive, he would cause people to never exist. But was it worth it? Was it better for people now to live, instead of a baby never existing. And had what he'd done already changed things? He had never met Teddy Lupin, but he still felt this connection of people that mattered to them. Harry stared at Remus and Sirius, back to their giggling and laughter, though Sirius did look a bit more awkward. He stared at the joy, and wondered, if Sirius had to die to bring Tonks and Remus together, was it better if Teddy never existed. Because Teddy wasn't here NOW. But then again, Harry presumed that Teddy Lupin, if Harry had never come back here, would have been someone, with wants, and needs and dreams. Then again, there were probably children who Harry would be changing personalities of, keeping them from the horror of the Carrow twins. Was that right either? Was it better that people he loved didn't suffer at the destruction of other people? Would there be other children who would never be born?

He was faced once again, with the question of how much you could change. He didn't WANT Sirius to die, and selfishly, he was going to do his best to save him. But as he stared at Remus and Sirius, playfully bickering, he questioned if some people would ever be the same due to his changes.

Harry went upstairs as soon as he finished dinner. He sat in his bed, holding the elder wand, staring at its distinctive features. It was weird enough that the wand had travelled back with him, in all its deathly hallow glory, but it was even stranger that his phoenix had gone missing, had just disappeared.

What was he meant to do when class started? He stared at the wand, the knobs every inch, the dark magic that radiated from it. Though maybe the dark magic didn't matter that much, if his magic already showed up darker than it had previously. As he sat there, he heard footsteps pattering up the staircase. Alarmed tried to put the wand into his pocket. As he fumbled, the wand changed, and suddenly, Harry was looking at his old wand. It didn't feel completely right, but it looked exactly the same.

Harry lay down.

He went to sleep.

It was dark. Harry could see light coming through the crack below a door. There were spiders. He was in the Dursleys. He was not.

He opened the door. There wasn't a latch. He was in Dumbledore's office. There was a boy at Dumbledore's desk. The room was not as it usually was.

Light.

Airy.

Reaching to the sky.

The boy had dark red magic swirling around the chair.

Blood red.

Death red.

Harry had seen it before.

A few days before.

As a man with a fraction of a soul fell dead.

The boy had blood dripping down his cheek. The letter M carved in, jagged. Not the clean cuts of magic.

The red moved to the boy's head, it shone. The boy looked fine.

Harry walked up. He touched the boy's forehead.

Then the boy was him. Magic, dark blue and purple, building up around him.

There were skeletons.

They looked like snakes. Their eyes were glowing, Avada kedavra, the shade of Harry's eyes.

Suddenly, Dumbledore was in his office. Harry, the boy, the one in a chair, jumped up. He burned Dumbledore till there was only ash. Harry, the one watching, the one who knew he was dreaming, walked over.

He picked up the ash.

He blew it away.