Chapter Three | Morning After

THE FADING CRIES of Ron as he was ripped apart by the Sherwood Black caused Harry to sit upright in his bed. A layer of sweat covering his upper body. Out of instinct, his hand shot to his forehead, where a lightning bolt scar used to be, but instead it now belonged to the other person occupying his bed.

Laying chest down in the bed was this worlds Harry's twin sister, Iris Potter. She was scantily clad (a baggy grey top and white lacy panties) and had kicked one of her socks off in the night. She had climbed into his bed after putting Lily and Bella to bed the night before. But Iris had made a habit of sharing Harry's bed. The first night that it had happened, Iris had snuck into his room through the connecting door and shuffled into bed with him. Harry had acted shocked at first, but when she seemed hurt, he decided to let her finish getting comfortable.

He'd found it strange at first. Sharing a bed with someone he thought was essentially a stranger. But having her in the bed with him, it somehow allowed him to feel at peace. Whilst sharing a bed with Iris, he had no nightmares of his time in the War that Ruined. Of Voldemort. Of nothing. Harry simply slept peacefully.

Harry couldn't help but admire her. Considering she was this world's Girl-Who-Lived, she'd managed to put on a good appearance in front of others. Draco's birthday ball was last night, and even then Harry was astounded at her patience of not letting the public image of the Girl-Who-Lived be disgraced just because she couldn't be asked to hear this ministry official talk about the strange rise of meta levels around Cornwall or this official talking about his role in the Department of Mysteries.

Harry couldn't care less.

Neither could Iris.

Yet she pretended, very well, that she did.

Harry stretched and jumped out of bed, pulled on a dressing gown, picked up his wand, and sat at his desk that wasn't too far from the foot of his bed. He then tapped the tip of his holly wand to one of the chains around his neck, enlarging the pendant until a full-sized trunk sat on his desk. Spinning it around so that the spine was facing him, Harry swiped at the left hinge and tapped it four times. A small clip speared, and Harry flicked it up and down twice and spun the trunk so that the lid was facing him once more. He then made a movement with his wand and clicked his fingers, and with a snap, the locks to the trunk came undone. He quickly looked over his shoulder. Iris was still asleep.

He then pulled out a journal, it was once a light blue, but the cover was now stained red.

He checked through it, looking for a reminder of little details that happened in Harry's original timeline when he was fourteen. He remembered the Triwizard tournament, but the way that this world was organised, he didn't have many events to sync up. He felt as though he were starting from scratch.

He then spent the next hour or so pouring over the words, smiling and steeling his sadness over some of the memories documented. When he heard Iris stirred, he returned the journal back into the trunk, took out a pair of pendant necklaces, and shrunk the trunk once more and returned it round his neck.

'Rey?' called Iris sleepily.

Harry turned around in his chair to face her. She was still buried in the duvet, but stretched her arms and was yawning.

'Morning Reina,' Harry replied. 'How'd you sleep?'

She nodded and sat up, pulling the duvet to cover her more.

'It's cold.' She complained.

'It is winter, Rey.'

The girl groaned and crossed her arms.

'That is no excuse for me being cold whilst being in your bed.'

Harry chuckled, and made his way to climb into bed with his twin of this world. Once he was laying down, she snuggled up close to him, pulling his dressing gown out of her face so that she could rest on his chest. She ran a finger up and down his toning abs absentmindedly as the pair sat in comfortable silence.

'You don't have to, if you really don't want to,' Iris said, breaking the silence.

That had caught him off guard.

'Sorry, what do you mean?'

'With the engagement. Mum hasn't said anything since Christmas… I don't think she'd make you if you really didn't want to. It's just a legal thing that dad didn't have time to sort before—' Iris stopped herself.

Ah, Harry thought. I forgot this world's Harry is technically engaged.

It wasn't something that he didn't intend to put much thought into. It was a contract that had to be fulfilled between the houses of Potter and Black—some time back, the Potter's had leant the Black family money, the Lord Black of the time had a gambling issue, and ended up having to sell land in order to cover his debts. The Potter's offered to help them with their affairs, under the condition that an alliance contract be drawn.

Potters and Blacks had always been a close family, the marriage contract was simply a legal formality. One that Harry now had to uphold. The only male Black was Sirius (James Potter's best friend), who was in jail for murdering muggles and James Potter's other best friend, Remus Lupin. Lily believed Sirius to be framed and had been lodging reappeals with the ministry for years. Before Sirius was arrested, he had created a legal document that made Harry, his legal godchild, the sole heir to his estate. Lucius and Narcissa were not happy about this. As Draco was closer to the direct Black line than Harry. But due to the Rights of the Lord, and Harry having Black blood within him. It was all legal. According to both the goblins and the wizengamot.

There were currently four eligible witches with strong ties to the Black title. Bellatrix Black (the current regent, handling the houses affairs whilst Sirius is in prison), Nymphadora Tonks (daughter of Andromeda Tonks), Cassandra Malfoy (daughter of Narcissus Malfoy) and Iris Potter (Granddaughter of Cygnus Black).

Due to Harry only being fourteen, when Lily had been given the information, she had to make a selection on the spot, no matter how advisory, her selection told the Harry of this world that she was the one his mother most approved of.

The engagement had not been declared, for there were details that still needed to be taken care of. But Lily had made the match between Harry and Nymphadora Tonks. She had explained that Bella was too old and more like an aunt (and also Godmother) to Harry, and her best friend, so didn't feel comfortable with that. Lucius Malfoy was too much of an advantage seeker to allow his daughter to be 'freely given' to the Potters when there were other eligible ladies. And wedding Iris to Harry, well, Lily knew of the Black family and its traditions (hence the eligibility of marrying Iris to Harry), but she didn't feel right in being an advocate for direct incest.

This worlds Harry understood why his mother had made the decision, but he was angry that he hadn't been given a choice in the matter on who he gets to marry. So he fled Potter Manor to walk through the woods, to think about it.

He had finally convinced himself that it should be okay, as he would be saving Iris from marrying Malfoy, and with all that she suffers being the Girl-Who-Lived, it was his duty as her sworn protector, to ensure she could at least find happiness with someone. It was once he was content and ready to return to Potter Manor that a golden lightning bolt seen by no one struck the very spot in which he stood, and a new soul, mind and body began fusing with his own. A battle of wills ensuing, but even having a level 2 in mind prowess was nothing to stop the attacks.

The Harry of this world died. And Harry Potter of the Ruined World took over. Not having really given the prospect of marriage a second thought.

Guilt tugged at his heart, the thought that he had disregarded the last wish of the person he technically murdered, it didn't sit right with him.

This Worlds Harry, had sworn to be Iris' protector. That was an oath Harry was happy to carry out. Agreeing to marry for Iris' sake, that was something Harry would have to put some thought into. Would marriage somehow hinder his freedom to find Voldemort and stop him before he can bring this world to the same ruin that his world had become? He wasn't sure.

But in this world, Harry was fourteen. If the timelines were going to sync up in anyway, that gave him a few months to prepare for Voldemort's return. There was no way he was going to get married in that time.

'I know, Reina,' Harry finally responded. 'But we have time until that decision has to be made.'

There was a pause, and Harry could feel Iris scramble upwards next to him until she was sitting on her heels and staring at him. She looked him and up and down, and, for perhaps the first time, she finally realised that her Harry, had indeed changed.

Her eyes lingered on parts of his body that had developed incredibly so since Christmas Day.

Her cheeks reddened and her hands formed a tight grip on the hem of her baggy shirt. She would be lying if she didn't feel a flutter when she saw his hairless toned abdomen and wide, muscled chest. She knew that Harry had been starting to exercise the last few weeks, but she didn't expect such a dramatic change in his physical appearance this quickly.

Her gaze eventually reached Harry's eyes and her pupils widened when she realised that she had been staring. But made no move to stop. For she could see that Harry had been staring at her too.

He had been taking in her form. Admiring the developing curves and beauty of her face. Harry was truly astounded when he saw through This Worlds Harry's memories that both he and Iris were fourteen, and not older. He now had the knowledge that in this world, teenage wizards went through three magical trimesters—magical development, when their magic first started to take hold; at this stage the witch or wizard still looks somewhere between eight and eleven years old.

During the second trimester, the witch or wizard will look anywhere from fourteen to twenty, depending on their magical potential.

And the third and final trimester is when they truly come into their power and will look around their early twenties. It is at this point that aging is slowed down considerably (again, based on the magical potential of the individual).

At fourteen, and still only in his first magical trimester, This World's Harry Potter had looked scrawny, and around twelve years old. He didn't look to be nearing his second trimester anytime soon, and had been ridiculed for having such low scores in his levelling exams.

This was contrasted by Iris Potter. A registered Level 3 wizard, with impressive scores across the board. Having entered her second magical trimester the day after her fourteenth birthday, she had easily taken on the appearance of someone in their late teens. Harry had placed her around seventeen, but it could be argued she looked older.

Green eyes stared into green eyes. Heart beats synced and each of the other's breath became audible.

CRACK!

The door clinked and, in the doorway, stood Jeromo, Harrys personal valet house elf.

The house elf stepped into the room, saw the situation and cleared his throat, straightening his tie.

'My apologies master Potter,' said the elf. 'I had arrived to help prepare you for this afternoon's travel.'

Harry nodded.

'Thank you Jeromo. I will move to the dressing room in just a moment.'

The house elf nodded, 'of course, master Potter.' And with that, left.

Once the door lock clicked, Iris jumped to her feet, grabbed her wand from the bedside table and with a swish, her grey shirt stretched till it was just shy of reaching the floor. She rushed to the door, but turned once her hand was on the doorknob.

She looked at Harry. She opened her mouth to say something, but stopped herself. She smiled and opened the door.

'I'll see you downstairs Harry,' she said. 'I've enjoyed sharing a bed with you again. It'll be a shame it has to stop again when we're back at the castle.'

And with that she left, as did all the warmth in the room.

The Potters had arrived at Grimmauld Place not too long after three. The dining hall of Grimmauld Place had not seen so much traffic. The next morning was the return back to Hogwarts, and so Bellatrix had kindly let the Potter's stay in the old house for the night. Both Lily and Bella had spent the evening after food drinking merrily and making fun of their old school mates. Andromeda and Theodore (of whom spent most of their free time at Grimmauld Place) to return to their room for the night.

Which left Harry, Iris and Tonks to talk about the Malfoy birthday party. Tonks had been busy training, and so couldn't attend, despite being invited. The trio had spent the night laughing, and after awhile Harry had to start lightly pushing down the flirtatious attempts of Tonks—especially when he noticed the uncomfortable look on Iris' face.

Harry and Iris retreated upstairs to bed, Tonks stayed to drink and talk with a very drunk Lily and Bella. Once the pair were on the landing, they shared a moment, their eyes locked. Harry went to say "goodnight", but Iris smiled and retreated into her bedroom.

Once Iris disappeared, Harry twisted the knob to the room he was told was his—the faded writing of SIRIUS in the doors surface. He tried to stifle the memories he had in his own world. Once his head hit the pillow, he fell into a deep sleep. One filled with memories of his own life.