Jekyll: Thank you so much, I hope you enjoy the rest of it. Jade is awesome, personal friend?

Jen: I hope you were able to finish catching up without getting your head chopped off. Yes, I've read Junk no1. Thanks!

Aranami: Yes, I cried at that death, too. I'm thinking of going back to change the tiny mentions in this fic to include that death, after all, this Harry's had so many other deaths, that would just add to his emotions, right? What you think? Oh, and if you're waiting for James and Harry to talk, this should give you something.

Lanevaly: Yes, you're not the only one waiting for the father and son to talk. And the Lucius thing, well this chapter will do that for you as well. I'm so glad you like it. I just have one request for you. Please write more on Imperio soon. I'm anxious and I've really been missing it!

Party Girl: Please don't hurt me. I'm sorry this took so long. Glad you like it, keep reading!

Louise: Never fear, all Harry's motivation will be revealed soon. Just remember that things are not always what they seem and you can't take anything for granted.

Menecarkawan: Thanks for still reading, I love it when readers tell me what they hope will happen and that they have real emotions from this - makes me feel like I'm doing a good job!

Peach Dancer82: Yes, Draco's powers will be mentioned, I promise. Hope you enjoy this one, too.

NayNymic: Sorry he bugs you, I know he seems stupid. I can't tell you if he'll get better soon, because that'll give away the ending, but please do keep reading!

Azhure: Thanks so much for pushing me in the right direction and beta- ing this chapter for me. You rock woman!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry and Draco followed their Headmaster in silence. None of them seemed to notice (or care) that the young men were holding hands as they walked through the corridors. Harry thought back to the moment he had seen James. He still felt highly uncomfortable with the fact that he had kissed Lucius. He was still quite confused as to how James and Lucius came to be there. And he was more than a bit nervous at the prospect of facing his father again. The swirl of emotions and thoughts that ran through that room came back to him and Harry began to worry that he wouldn't be able to handle it again.

"Um, sir?"

Dumbledore stopped and turned to Harry. "Yes?"

"I'm a little, well, I'm concerned about this. I don't want to panic like last time."

"You know what to expect. That should alleviate your fears, don't you think?" The familiar twinkle and the tiny smile that was nearly hidden behind the Headmaster's beard told Harry very clearly that Dumbledore knew there was more to this, more that Harry wasn't sharing.

"It's not just seeing him, sir." Harry waiting for the nod to continue, a nod that said 'I knew that but I'm glad you're going to tell me now'. "It's the emotions and thoughts. I felt them, heard them, all at once. It was very . . . charged."

"You'll need to block that. I could have been working with you if you had told me you had this ability," Dumbledore paused, obviously thinking about Harry's habit of keeping information from the others in his life. "Nevertheless, I've no doubt that you can create a mental shield to limit the amount of 'leakage' you get from everyone else's thoughts and feelings."

"Yes, sir." Harry was struck by a sudden reminder of his 5th year, and the confrontation with Snape over the Occlumency lessons. They had managed to patch things up later on and Harry had continued his studies with Snape until they were both satisfied with the results. Unbeknownst to others, Harry had been studying Legilimency as well, and that combined with his natural seer abilities had allowed Harry to gain a great deal of information from Voldemort and his followers last night.

Pushing aside his bad memories of the past, Harry tried again to focus on the prospect of seeing his father. He knew there must be some explanation for James Potter and Lucius Malfoy to travel into the future. He also knew that if he and Draco were being led to meet with their fathers, that meant that Dumbledore knew how and why this time traveling had occurred.

He tried reaching out to gather information from Dumbledore's mind, but the older wizard was far more skilled at Occlumency and obviously had his guard up. Draco's mind would be easier to access, but his primary thoughts were of relief at Harry's safety, love for Harry and nerves due to Lucius' presence. To dig into deeper thoughts would be much too invasive, Harry loved the blond too much to intrude upon him like that. He could only hope to keep his cool and get some information from someone else.

"Before we continue," Headmaster Dumbledore paused in the corridor again, purposely ignoring the giggles from a nearby painting. "I would like to ask you both to tell me a bit about your new skills."

Harry and Draco paused and looked at each other in something akin to fear. What if Dumbledore decided their wandless skills were Dark? What if he was forced to expel them? Harry knew his reasoning and intent behind each and every bit of magic he did. He felt confident that he knew where he stood in connection to the Dark side. Draco, however, was less certain. He felt that he was fighting for the right side, but he knew that many people connected wandless magic with Dark Arts, no matter what. Finally, after many silent moments, Dumbledore spoke again.

"I already know more than either of you have said. There could be much to be gained from recent events, but not if all the involved parties continue to deny these events. You'll both need to be prepared to admit your actions, both to yourself and to the others who can help. You do understand this, don't you? You'll need to admit many actions."

The pointed glance that traveled from Harry's eyes to their clasped hands and up again to Draco's eyes made it quite clear. Dumbledore knew about their new skills and their new relationship. More than that, he expected both of them to talk about it in front of him and their teenaged fathers.

"Sir, I understand what you're saying," Draco spoke up, knowing more about the meeting they were about to enter, he felt it important to ask this immediately. "But will this need to be discussed with everyone in there? Or just with James and Lucius?"

Harry turned quickly, wondering who else Draco was referring to. How many people would Dumbledore have pulled into this situation?

"I believe the more the knowledge is spread around, the safer it will be for all those involved. However, we do have a couple of students, aside from yourselves, who most likely will not be involved for their own safety. Any revelations to them will be at your discretion. Now, would either of you like to tell me how strong you are and what you are capable of doing?"

Draco spoke again, before Harry had the chance. "I have learned to levitate and do a few minor curses and hexes without my wand. I can levitate objects quite well and with accurate movement, but I have a harder time with levitating myself. I haven't been studying very long, though. I think I can improve with practice. Harry's been studying much longer and is much more powerful, sir." He glanced at his boyfriend, wondering how he would take this news. "He's the most powerful wizard I've ever seen, and he doesn't even realize it. He can do amazing things without a wand and I believe it would be completely accurate to say that with just a bit more practice and focus, he would be able to do absolutely anything. Forgive me sir, but I think Harry's more powerful than you and Voldemort combined."

Harry scoffed at this notion, still caught up in the idea that he wasn't doing anything that special. These new skills came to him too easily to be that powerful and impressive. To his surprise, Dumbledore didn't deny the idea of excessive power, nor did he get upset with Draco for saying it. He didn't even seem upset with their private studies. In fact, the Headmaster simply nodded his head and offered that tiny little, partly-hidden smile again, before turning and muttering a password to the giggling painting.

As they stepped through the entrance into the unused lounge, Harry felt a rush of emotion come toward him. Before he could even see anyone he knew his father was here. He could feel Hermione and Ron here. He was mildly surprised to feel Snape's presence and mildly irritated to feel Lucius' presence. The group of people gathered here did offer one source of comfort to Harry. He could use this opportunity and the various minds in the room to gather the information that people were hiding from him. Honestly, he didn't see how anyone expected him to be trusting or to accomplish any great victories if they wouldn't tell him the truth. But now he had the means to take the truth, and take it he would. He would just have to have one on one time with everyone. Too many thoughts and emotions at once would not be conducive to his plans of gathering information. No, that would simply cause a repeat of last night's disturbing overload.

~*~*~*~

Harry did indeed know how to put up a shield to buffer the emotions and thoughts that were raging throughout the room. It was a shield no one wanted to see, however. The only way he knew of, was to tap into his own darker thoughts and emotions. Those deep-down, private thoughts that were too dark, too twisted for anyone to know about. The late-night desires to cause pain to everyone who threatened him, to be cruel to those who worshiped him, to have wild, random sex with everyone who caught his fancy. Those characteristics of his personality that he didn't admit to himself until recently were probably the very things the sorting hat had seen when it tried to place him in Slytherin.

When Harry tapped into those characteristics he became very Snape-like, for lack of a better term. He expressed anger and disgust, offering a tempestuous glare to anyone who dared interrupt his train of thought. Deep inside, Harry knew that this wasn't all there was to him anymore, but it made it so much easier to pretend he didn't care. Some part of him seemed convinced that if he stopped showing his concern for others, he would eventually stop having any concern for them. And if that happened, then he could no longer be hurt by the torture and death of his classmates, friends and family. It was an appealing idea, but not a level of apathy he could reach that quickly.

In this Snape-like manner, Harry decided that he was going to take control of the situation at hand. "I understand that there's something to be gained from this bizarre turn of events. I presume these benefits have something to do with Voldemort?" He glanced at the Headmaster and received a verifying nod. "Since we all know what this will eventually boil down to, I believe I should gather as much information as possible. I would like to know which of you are truly involved and speak to you on an individual basis." He turned to his best friends, ignoring the look of disbelief from Ron and the pure anger radiating from Hermione. "I know you probably want to help, but I think research is the best way for you to do that. Please don't argue with me Ron, I don't have the time or the patience for it. I'll explain things to both of you later, but right now it looks like you both need some rest."

Harry waited in silence as Ron and Hermione looked at each other and then turned to the Headmaster and their Head of House. Both Dumbledore and McGonagall nodded their heads, prompting the two Gryffindors to follow Harry's advice (or orders) and head back to the dormitories. Once they left, Harry headed toward the smaller room as he said "Professor Snape, follow me, please."

Draco nearly laughed in spite of himself. The incredulous look of shock on Snape's face quickly gave way to a glare of utter contempt. Draco was a bit surprised to see Harry acting this forceful and demanding, but he was even more surprised to see that Dumbledore, McGonagall and especially Snape were not only allowing it to continue, but were following his demands!

~*~*~*~

SEVERUS SNAPE:

Yes, I followed the boy into the other room. It was in no way an act of weakness, nor was it an example of bowing to a child. He was right. As much as I may have disliked Potter in the past, the respect he had garnered from me was well-deserved. And in this situation, there was no doubt that it would be useful for us to share information and work together leading up to a final confrontation. We all knew - those of us from this time period - that Potter would be the key figure in that final confrontation. So, in a flash of comprehension and acceptance beyond his seventeen years, Potter had come to this conclusion and was preparing himself. That's why I followed the boy into the other room.

As we sat I saw that he gave a quick glance and a mild wave of his hand toward the door. I knew at once that he had placed a locking charm and silencing charm on the room. I could still feel the power radiating from him, but the surges weren't as high as they had been the night before. 'His powers are connected to his emotions, of course. That's why it's not as strong now.'

"Why don't you start by telling me your version of what's going on around here?" Harry's question was spoken with the casual tone expected of an equal, but still held a touch of respect, as one might offer to a mentor. That thought frightened me a bit. I couldn't imagine anything I had done in my life to deserve a mentor position in anyone's life. He sat there quietly, waiting for me to answer. A nagging feeling in the corner of my mind told me there was something I should be paying attention to, but I ignored it for the moment.

"Well, I'm extremely curious about your involvement with the Dark Lord and his followers. I'd like to know how long you've been in contact with Pettigrew and where you learned those skills."

"Sev, I asked you to tell me what's going on here, not question me on my own dealings. I'll answer all your questions in time, but right now I need to know what you know."

"I know very little. James and Lucius arrived here last night. I was called to the meeting shortly afterwards. I came back with you little more than an hour ago. I can tell you that considering the strength of magic in both James and Lucius, having their assistance could very well prove beneficial in overpowering Voldemort."

"Thank you, Severus. I appreciate your honesty. Please ask Professor McGonagall to come in next."

With that, Harry waved his hand again to unlock the door and I knew I had been dismissed.

MINERVA McGONAGALL:

Young Mr. Potter and his friends have been among my favorite students in all my years at Hogwarts. It's never been any secret that Harry Potter was destined for great things, and once he and Draco Malfoy reached their second year I began to see the power that Albus had mentioned so long ago. I had nearly forgotten about that time travel project until I was faced with the very sons of those two boys. Of course, realizing that Harry was the force that had been foreseen, the very reason that James Potter and Lucius Malfoy were here, that was something that I found extremely disturbing. Harry Potter has more power than our world knows how to deal with. His power and strength is a result of many things including his ancient ancestry, the strength of his parents, the power transferred to him from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and most recently - if Albus was right - his bond with Draco Malfoy. I worried about it. Power of that magnitude is not something you want to have on the opposing side.

"Professor McGonagall, would you please tell me what you know about this situation?"

'I feel like I'm being interviewed by someone at the Ministry.' I took a deep breath and tried to speak to him as an equal. It's not easy. He may be a great wizard, but he is still seventeen years old. "The elder Misters Potter and Malfoy were transported here through a potions project gone wrong." I couldn't tell him that we sent those two into the future to stop him from following the wrong path. "The Headmaster and I have determined that they may be able to supplement your power in preparation for your next meeting with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. We thought it a good idea for you to work with them whilst we determine the best way to send them back to their own time."

He looked at me simply for a moment, as if he were trying to evaluate my answer. Apparently satisfied with his conclusions, he smiled.

"Do you have any specific knowledge as to why Dumbledore would think these two can help me fight Voldemort? At their current ages, I dare-say they've never faced him, not once."

"I believe you're right about that. In 1976 there wasn't any reason for either of them to have faced him yet. However, the magic that runs through both families has made you and Draco Malfoy two of the most powerful wizards of our time. Your fathers are extremely powerful as well."

"So you think Draco and I should work with our fathers to combine our magic and this will be enough to defeat Voldemort?"

"I think it's a good possibility and it wouldn't hurt to make use of the opportunity while we work out how to send them back."

"Thank you professor. I'm sure I'll be speaking with you again later on. I'd like to speak to the Headmaster now."

I watched as he released the charms on the door, then walked out to pass that message on to Albus. I hoped Mr. Potter would be able to calm himself soon. The magic radiating from him nearly crackled through the air and the cold, heartless attitude he was presenting was disconcerting to say the least.

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE:

As I faced Harry, I found myself thinking how sorrowful I felt because he had to deal with so much tragedy and pressure. He'd grown up much sooner than any child deserved to. Nevertheless, the boy was handling it better than most.

"Sir," Harry said. "Is there anything you feel you should tell me?"

I smiled at him. I'm certain my eyes were twinkling. Oh yes, I know about that twinkle. I know that it bothers a great many people. I know that my staff, especially the more dour members of my staff, find it highly irritating that I seem to be amused by so many events. The reality of the situation is that I am amused by many events. I have an uncanny ability to find humor in all but the gravest of situations and I encourage that within myself because I believe that some sense of levity is important to good quality of life. At this moment, I found it interesting to see that the boy seemed to be using one of my tactics on me. He didn't want to ask me any specific questions until he had some idea what information I had to offer. Quite wise of him.

"My dear boy, I'm sure there more pointed questions you would like to ask."

"Perhaps. But this is the one I'm asking."

"Well then, Harry, the answer is yes. I feel that I should tell you that I have every confidence that things will be made right. As my seer skills are limited, even with Minerva's cooperation, I cannot be more specific. I can, however, assure you that the appropriate measures have already been put into place to ensure that all will be as it should. Any actions you take now will only alter themselves to fit into the solution."

"You realize, Headmaster, that your answer doesn't really make any sense to me, don't you ?"

"Yes, my boy, but it will. Someday."

With that, I stood and walked toward the door.

"I presume you would like to see Lucius Malfoy next?" I could feel the crackle in his aura that told me he was ever-so-slightly irritated that I had retained any semblance of control.

LUCIUS MALFOY:

He's just staring at me. He's sitting there, staring at me and it's highly disconcerting. It's amazing how much he looks like James. Oh, I've come to realize during our work together that James is not a complete loss as a person, despite his friends and his Gryffindor status. He seems to be growing out of his childish prankster phase. If only he would leave Severus alone, I could even imagine considering him among my own friends. But this boy, Harry, from what I can tell, his similarity to James begins and ends with his looks.

He's distant, and angry. He seems to have more similarities to the Severus of this time when comparing their attitudes. That's another thing I don't understand. What in Merlin's name could have happened to make Severus so closed off. And why does he look at me so strangely?

"Potter," I said.

"Call me Harry. I think it will be easier if we all use first names, since there are currently two Potters and two Malfoys here."

"All right, Harry. Can you tell me something?"

"Perhaps."

"Am I dead?"

"It's my understanding that you and James were brought here by a potions project gone wrong. Seems odd that a Malfoy could screw up a potion that badly." He smirked at me. I wanted so badly to correct him, to explain that I most certainly did not screw up a potion, and in fact that McGonagall and Dumbledore seemed highly impressed with the advanced work that James and I had done together. I couldn't, though. I wasn't supposed to tell him that, or the reason they sent us here in the first place.

"No, I mean, in this time. Am I dead in this time? Will I die in the next 21 years?"

He honestly seemed surprised. "No, why would you think that?"

"The way people are looking at me, behaving around me, it seems like they've never seen me, or not seen me in many years. It's not quite as drastic as people seeing James, but it's still there. My own son," I had to pause a moment. I still couldn't get used to the idea that I would have a son. I'd been hoping I wouldn't actually have to marry Narcissa. "My own son won't even look me in the eye. And Severus barely speaks to me either. He seems to have an evil heartless thing going on, but every once in a while, he looks at me, and there's a deep sadness hidden somewhere underneath it all. He's my best friend. I want to know, if I'm not dead, then what else could make him - and Draco - act like this around me?"

"Draco doesn't look you in the eye because he's not supposed to."

If this boy thought that would answer my question, he was severely mistaken. And that smirk! That insolent little smirk just proved that he knew exactly what was happening here and simply refused to tell me. Unless maybe he was told that he couldn't tell me, just as I wasn't supposed to tell him the truth.

"Why is he not supposed to? Is this something I - his father, the future me - taught him?"

"I believe so. It's a sign of respect among the ranks."

"Ranks? I'm in a military group?"

"You could say that."

"Is Draco afraid of me? He seems so much more at ease with other people, even other adults, even James. I can't imagine that I would be a parent who would instill that much fear in a child."

"I don't think he's afraid of you, but he might well be afraid of your master, and the orders you might be given."

"Master?"

He didn't say anything. I suddenly have the feeling that I could stare at him all day long and he still wouldn't expand on that statement. Not unless he decided he was bloody good and ready to. This young Potter is definitely one for standing firmly by his decisions, it seems. I continued running that last sentence through my mind, the words flipping and twirling around each other in the jumble of other thoughts I was already dealing with. Suddenly, something clicked and everything seemed to fall into place.

"You can't honestly be telling me that I'm going to join that psychotic dark wizard and do his bidding?"

"I don't recall telling you that."

"It's true, isn't it?"

"Yes." How could he be so calm about it, so nonchalant, as if he hadn't just given me this horrible image of my future? A future serving a dark wizard, married to a woman I would never like, not to mention couldn't love and raising a son who seemed caught between fearing and hating me. Oh, this was not how I'd imagined my life going.

"You're involved with Draco, aren't you?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm sure this is because of the way I - er - greeted you last night. I am so sorry for that, I hope you understand. . ."

"Harry," I knew if I didn't interrupt him, he could have gone on and on. "It's quite all right. I can understand the confusion. It was a bit confusing for all of us. But, you haven't answered my question. Are you and Draco involved?"

"Yes, just recently."

I smiled. I was beginning to feel like a father, oddly enough. I was pleased to hear that my son had found, would find - whichever - someone to care for. My thoughts turned to Severus again. It was apparent that I would have to marry Narcissa after all, I certainly didn't want to give up having a son. But my thoughts of last night were expanding. After that brief kiss and my initial thoughts of Sev, I had decided that once I got back to my time, I was going to make sure another day didn't go by without me letting Sev know that I found him to be the equivalent of sex on legs. What would happen after that, I could only guess - and hope. Now, however, I was beginning to think one night would never be enough, that it would only make me ache for something I could never have again. Snapping myself back to the present, or future as it were, I looked back to Harry.

"Did you have any questions for me? I thought this was supposed to be a chance for you to gather some sort of information for this big 'mission'."

"No, thank you, Lucius. You've told me more than you know." He gave me that little sly smile that made me realize he meant exactly what he was saying, which of course left me to wonder what I might have revealed without realizing it.

"Could you please ask Draco to come in next?"

DRACO MALFOY:

I sat in that room, watching as each of our professors went in to talk to Harry, then came out and told someone else he had asked to see them. After Snape came out and joined the rest of us, I saw some strange looks pass between him and Lucius. I've seen Snape with my father many times, but I've never seen anything like this. I've never seen Snape like this, he seems a little softer. Well, softer in Snape terms, which primarily means that he seems like he might have once had a heart hidden underneath that cold exterior that he portrays to everyone.

Lucius, this young version of my father, confuses me as well. I've tried to watch him a bit when he's not paying attention to me. I've gotten fairly good at this after watching the full grown version of him for years. This Lucius is different. He seems human, almost like me, or at least, like I would be if I weren't afraid of my parents' reactions. My mother - she's really the dominant one. I think I've always known that on some level, but could she really be so dominant that she turned my father from a normal teenaged boy who seems decent and genuine, into a cold-hearted Death Eater who kisses Voldemort's robes and lets him make plans for me?

After waiting through McGonagall and Dumbledore, Lucius went in to meet with Harry.  It's hard not to wonder what's going on in that room.  Now that he's come out and I'm finally going to get the chance to talk to Harry, I'm ecstatic. I need to see him alone, need to find out what he's trying to do here. That mask of his bothers me. I don't think I've ever seen Harry so distant and cold. It's a deeper, darker version of the old darkness that I used to find exciting. It seems impossible to believe that so much has happened within the last week or two. I'm sure it was just a few days ago that I was thinking of how exciting and sexy he seemed when he behaved in that forceful mildly dark manner. Now I'm sitting across from him in an unused meeting room and I'm seeing the darkest, coldest, angriest look on his face. It reminds me so much of Snape on his worst days, or my father, or Pansy's father - yes that's it. He reminds me of Pansy's father - full of hatred and disdain, ready to severely injure anyone who crosses him.

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Did you need to talk to me, or were you just going to sit there staring at me?"

No answer. All I wanted was to bring the Harry I love back to the surface.

"The surface of what?"

"Harry, I hate it when you do that. Do you really have to answer my thoughts?"

"I'm sorry. I'll try not to do that. It's difficult at times, especially right now. I'm trying to…" he trailed off. I watched in awe as that mask began to crumble away. The firm set of his jaw softened a bit. The tightness in his lips seemed to loosen up. His shoulders sagged just a bit, then shook a little. But it was the eyes where I could really see the change. The cold hatred seemed to dissolve, bringing a bit of that familiar light back into his eyes. The anger and disdain went away, to be replaced by a sadness that made me want to cry. The depth of emotions suddenly swirling in those emerald orbs was breathtaking. The overall transformation was so distinct, so incredibly complete that I had the odd feeling I was watching him morph into a completely different person.

"Oh Dray, what am I going to do?"

I nearly ran the few steps between us and knelt in front of him, resting my hands on his thighs. "Harry what is it? What's going on?" I was completely unprepared for the broken look in his eyes when they met mine. I can't imagine what sort of mental anguish would create a look like that. I'm not sure I want to know, but for Harry, I'll have to.

"I'm sorry Dray, you don't have to do this."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just respond to my thoughts against my explicit wishes. A person wouldn't need to be a mind-reader to understand and recognize that you're in pain Harry. I love you. I want to be here. I want to help, if that's possible."

"I don't think it is," his whisper sounded so dejected and defeated. "I don't think anything can help anymore. I have to face him, Dray. I have to sit here and talk to my father like it's the most normal thing in the world. And then I have to take all this information and put it together to form a plan for killing Voldemort. And then, presumably, I have to face losing my father all over again. I can't talk to the only people who've been friends to me for most of my life, because there's no way they can understand half of what's going on here. And Dumbledore, that old coot is just getting battier by the day. Oh sure, he's got some great knowledge of something wonderful and detailed, but I can't get at it and he won't offer it to me, no matter that it might be necessary to make this work. No matter that I have a plan of my own and I might need that information to make sure that my plan works as it should. No matter that I deserve to know."

I reached around, wrapping my arms firmly around his torso and pulled him close to me until my head could rest against his chest. He seemed extremely tense, but slowly relaxed into the embrace and wrapped his arms around me in return.

"You can rely on me, Harry. I know it's hard to believe you can trust people, I know you don't want to care about people. . ."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Because I know you, and I can tell. But I can also tell that you do care, in spite of yourself, just as I care about you, just as your friends care about you. And your father cares about you."

"My father's dead, Draco. That boy in there is not yet my father, and if anything goes wrong, he never will be and I'll cease to exist."

I pulled my head up to face him, seeking contact with his eyes, hoping he would see the truth in mine. "He may not be your father, yet. But you are already his son and he recognizes that. I've talked to him. Harry, those visions of yours, when you thought your seer skills were going wonky, that was you seeing this. Your father and I, working together, talking together. If we're all going to work together to defeat Voldemort, then your father and I will have to practice together and discuss things. And this morning, before you came back, we discussed you. He cares, Harry. It's true. And, for the record, he knows that I love you, and he's glad."

"Really?"

"Yes, Harry, really. You should talk to him. No masks, no hiding, just talk to him. Everything else will work out in the end. Somehow, it's all going to be made right, I can sense it."

"You know, Dumbledore said the same thing."

"As much as I've talked about him, I've always known he's a smart man. And we know I'm of superior intelligence." I flashed him my best grin, "so you should believe us both."

I was rewarded with the tiniest of smiles as Harry leaned in to capture my mouth with his own. As with our previous kisses, it seemed that all coherent thought flew directly out of my head the moment our lips touched. The power that surged between us was almost frightening. In that emotionally charged moment, I felt a connection to Harry on a deeper level than we had ever had before. In fact, it seemed that the connection went a little deeper in this manner each and every time.

After we separated, we realized we were surrounded by sparks and crackles of light. Streaks like blue lightening seemed to light the entire room for a few moments, then it dimmed into a pale blue glow around us. I looked at Harry, somewhat grateful to see that my amazement was reflected on his face. "What just happened?"

"I don't know, Dray. I've never seen anything like it."

"We should ask Dumbledore about it."

Ooh, that brought the bitterness back into his face. "Why? So he can hide something else from me? I see no need for it."

"Harry, just trust him. Or at the very least, trust me? We can talk to Dumbledore, you can talk to your father, please Harry."

He put one finger over my lips. It's funny how people do that to get others to stop talking. As if I couldn't very well keep talking around his finger, or move away from his hand and keep talking out of his reach. As if one little finger pressed against my lips could . . . but, it did. I stopped the moment he touched me. Not due to force, but desire. Not sexual desire, but his desire for me to stop.

"Okay, Draco. I trust you. I - we should - I should do this - now, I mean. You should go back out there and I should talk to my - talk to James now."

"Sure, Harry. I'll tell him." With the briefest and lightest of touches, I pressed my lips to his and turned to leave the room.

JAMES POTTER:

Oh, I'd been waiting for this. I walked into the room, not having a clue what to expect. I can't even begin to explain how nerve-wracking it was to sit in that outer lounge, waiting, wondering, anticipating. Oddly enough, it seemed that everyone else in there was waiting just like I was. They didn't talk - about anything. I would have expected Dumbledore to discuss something with his staff members, or talk to the younger of us about what we could expect. Something about the situation, the plans, the reason Harry was taking control like this and no one was arguing with him.

I'm still amazed by how much he looks like me, but those eyes. He definitely has Lily's eyes, but I hope I never have to see such pain in hers. I wish I didn't have to see it in his. Of course, since I'm going to be dead before he grows up, I'm not supposed to be seeing it, am I? I can't help wondering what's going to happen to take me away from my family. I've always wanted a son. A few children, actually. Lily and I have joked about having our own Quidditch team. I wonder if we ever got to have any other children. If only Lily had survived, maybe Harry wouldn't have had such a hard life.

I've learned a lot about him and his past from Ron, Hermione and Draco. It's unbelievable that someone so young has gone through so much. He's fought so many battles, lost so many friends and loved ones, and yet - somehow - he's survived.

He's survived, but he seems - strange. Sitting across from him, I get the sense that he's a bit nervous, but you could never tell it by the look on his face. He looks guarded, distrustful and extremely cynical.

"So, are you feeling better today?"

He offers a sad smile and nods quietly. I wonder what I've been brought in here for if he doesn't want to talk to me. For that matter, I wonder why he doesn't want to talk to me. I can understand the shock from our first meeting, but now that he's had a little time to get used to it, I wish he could relax a bit so we can just talk. I want to know him. I want him to know me, even though I'm sure I'm not the same person I will be by the time he's born. I don't even know how old he was when we. . .

"A year."

"What?" That must be the most arbitrary statement I've ever heard spoken.

"A year. I haven't seen you since I was a year old." Merlin, can he read minds? "I'm sure no one's given you any details, but it appears you already know about your death."

"I figured it out."

"I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry we weren't there for you. Can I ask where you grew up? Do you have godparents?"

"A godfather, but I didn't get to meet him until the end of my third year here. I grew up with the Dursleys."

"Who?"

"Petunia Evans and her husband."

"Oh, I've only met Petunia once, and it was very brief. It wasn't entirely pleasant either, did she get better?"

"No."

"Why didn't you get to meet your godfather? Why wouldn't you have been living with him?" I was wondering who I would someday offer that position to. I can't imagine anyone but Sirius, though. He's like the brother I never had. I would think Sirius would take something like that seriously (no pun intended) and make sure he was around to fulfill the duties. I can't imagine leaving my son in the care of someone who would disappear for thirteen years.

"He was in Az. . . he was unavailable."

"Azkaban? Were you about to say your godfather was in Azkaban?"

"Damn." He seemed to be mentally kicking himself now, obviously thinking he shouldn't have allowed that slipup. "Well, Dumbledore is planning to obliviate your memory before you go back, anyway, so I suppose I might as well tell you. He was in Azkaban because he was wrongly accused of murdering 13 Muggles and one Wizard, as well as being in league with Voldemort and betraying two other wizards. He escaped in my third year so he could protect me from . . ." he seemed unsure how to finish the sentence. "From a rat."

A rat? I didn't bother asking any questions. I could tell he wasn't going to give me any more information on that subject, not now anyway.

"Is there anything you want to know about me? Or your mum?"

"How did you get here?"

I blinked. I was expecting much more personal questions, but I suppose it was a matter of importance, and there was work to be done.

"I took a potion that Malfoy and I were working on together."

"Why were you and Malfoy working on a potion together? Are you friends?"

I had to think about that for a minute. Would I consider Lucius Malfoy my friend? I wouldn't have before, but somewhere in the midst of the hours spent working on this project, I had come to respect him, or something like that. And something about traveling forward in time and meeting up with your sons, well, that brings people closer together in ways you never would have imagined. So did that make him my friend? Harry seemed disturbed by my hesitation.

"Gods, please don't tell me you and Lucius Malfoy are involved!!"

I couldn't help it, I laughed. "No. Absolutely not. I'm madly in love with Lily, and I've got a sneaking suspicion that Lucius is interested in someone as well. But to answer your earlier questions, we were working on it as part of a detention, and I'm not sure we're friends, but I think we might be one day. How about you and Draco? I understand that you used to fight a lot?"

"You could say that, but we don't anymore - as much."

"You do still fight?"

"Well, we disagree on things, he disagrees with some of the things I do, or plan to do."

"Is it true that you were trying to join Voldemort's army last night?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I can't tell you anything about that just yet. It's for your own safety."

I can't help but see the irony in that, my son, keeping information from me in the name of my safety, despite the fact that to him I've been dead for sixteen years.

"Is there any other information you needed from me, I mean, in regards to this. . . mission, or whatever?"

"No, I don't think so, unless you have some ideas on how we can accomplish this."

"I don't, yet. But I'm sure once we all put our heads together, we can come up with something. Harry, are you all right?"

"Yes, why?" Oh yeah, that was believable.

"Just asking. Do you, I mean, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Certainly." He hardly seems interested, but I have no way of knowing if I'll get this chance again.

"I just want you to know, even though it seems a little odd and it's taken some getting used to, I do think of you as my son. I. . . care about you, it's automatic, like breathing. That's how I've always imagined I would feel about my kids, just something deep in my soul telling me that they're important and wonderful and valuable. I was planning to propose to Lily on her birthday, in February. I spontaneously jumped that gun right before I came here and she accepted. We've been very happy together and we've talked about our kids, just hypothetically, of course. But those talks have always brought images of lots of love and happiness. It's really hard to believe that I won't get to see you grow up, and I won't get to give you that love and happiness while you're a child, but I can now. I can tell you now that I love you, Harry. Draco told me about you, and how you're brave and kind-hearted. He told me about your friends and how close you are to them. It reminds me of my friends. I'm glad you have that. I'm glad you have Draco, too. He really loves you. I know that nothing can make up for the things in your past, but if you hold on to that love from Draco and your friends, and even from me if you'll accept it, I think it might make your future a happy one. I know you're powerful, and I probably don't know the half of it, but if you use that power to enforce those good things, to bring out the love in those around you and let that overpower the darkness, I think maybe everything will be all right. Just don't let the sadness and anger twist your intentions, Harry. You're better than that. I can tell."

I'd been looking down at the floor during most of that rambling, feeling a bit embarrassed to be saying these things to someone my own age. Looking up at Harry again, it's quite surprising to see that he's been silently crying. It's instinct. I pull him out of that chair and into a hug. It's an odd thought for me to be hugging my son, but I can tell by the sudden shudders that the emotions run much deeper for him. Of course! This has to be hard for him to accept, to understand. But I hope he finds it to be a good thing as well.

"Thank you . . ." he whispers. Then, even quieter and very hesitantly, "dad".

Wow, now that was intense. I only wish I would be allowed to remember this moment.

~*~*~*~*~*~