A/N: Its been awhile. Sorry. I've been working on an original work that has taken me away from the P/C series. But I'll always come home to Emily and Harry, so no worries.

Chapter 11

The shock of seeing Albus Dumbledore faded quickly. This was due to the fact that the man was clearly not real. The figure wasn't quite here, slightly transparent. She could make faint outlines of the scenery behind him.

"Are you coming in, or not?" Emily looked at the twinkling blue eyes, and felt the urge to vomit. She would get to the bottom of the disgusting facsimile and make certain it would never appear before her again.

Not even bothering to answer to specter, Emily moved straight through the apparition before her and into the home. Grindlewald was seated in the sitting room. Entering without a single hint of a greeting, she tore into the man.

"Are you truly so desperate for a companion that you'd magick up some twisted phantom of your past lover?"

Grindlewald smiled slightly at her words, but remained silent. Her question was answered however, by an overwhelmingly irritating voice from behind her.

"I can assure you, Emily, that I am no twisted specter. Just a normal one. After all, Mrs. Potter, surely you don't think Gellert is aware of some of the trials that you and Harry have been through. Perhaps, to ensure you of my authenticity, I should bring up a certain instance at the end of Harry's third year. One that he has shared with no one, other than his beloved wife, of course."

Her blood ran cold at this. No one other than herself, Dumbledore and Hermione Granger knew of the time travel when Harry saved his godfather's life. Harry had never spoken of it to another soul save her. It was a deeply personal, not to mention terribly illegal, story and she knew that the... thing, in front of her had to certainly be Albus Dumbledore.

"How?"

At this, the seated man finally spoke. "It was my price. For young Harry's desire for the power to protect you. In exchange for my gift, he allowed me to use his wand. I used the elder wand's immense power to copy the resurrection stone. Of course, even the elder wand has limits. My stone is not perfect and can only be used to call a single person from the beyond. Even then, the enchantment on mine will eventually break down and fail."

"Couldn't even let the man who left you stay dead, could you, Grindlewald? So, what is this, then? Are the two of you sipping tea in the afternoons, and chatting the day away?"

Grindlewald smiled. "Of course." The old man fixed Emily with a hard stare, and Emily felt a slight twinge of nervousness. "You wouldn't understand our relationship Mrs. Potter. You and Harry have a far more... typical romantic relationship. It's as much physical, emotional, and intellectual in its entirety."

Emily scoffed as soon as the man told her she and Harry's relationship was typical. He had to be talking right out of his arse, but she did agree with the following statement. "So, you're saying that for the two of you, its different?"

"Yes. Albus and I have always been drawn to each other's brilliance. It was always an attraction of the mind. So, yes, we sit and speak for hours."

Emily couldn't have more horrified by this idea of romance. While she did most certainly love talking to Harry, she still had the urge to jump his bones every now and then. Well, it was rather a constant niggling urge that she indulged in whenever he was willing. Which, thankfully for her, was often enough.

"Sounds dreadfully boring. But whatever gets your rocks off, I suppose. I'm leaving, and I'm pulling the surveillance on you as well, Grindlewald. Obviously if you're spending your days talking to a ghost, you don't plan on getting into any trouble."

As she turned on her heel to leave she saw that Albus stayed near to her. Internally groaning, she had the intense desire to apparate away from the man before he felt the right time to speak appeared. But she knew that the man wouldn't speak just to hear his own voice. He was dead and couldn't harm her, and there was always the possibility that it had something to do with Harry. She would talk to Satan himself if it involved Harry's safety.

"Spit it out, old man. I like your company even less now, seeing as I can't curse you in your current state."

Dumbeldore gave a chuckle as the two of them exited the house. Emily breifly wondered just how far the man could wander from the stone before he spoke. "My time here won't be terribly long, so worry not Emily. Being dead, allows one to know certain things. Things that I can't necessarily impart with you, but I can give you a warning."

Emily tensed. She wanted, inherently, to dismiss every single word from his mouth, but once again, she had Harry to think of. "And?"

"Don't despair. And never give up. There is always hope."

Emily stared at him with a slight gape. "In what realm does that qualify as a warning? How am I to subvert fate with just that?"

"Worry not. I assure you, these words will be invaluable to you, when you need them most."

"Whatever you say. I assume that you'll give me the courtesy of never appearing before me again, correct?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "I fear that this is not our final meeting, but the next one will be a long, long time from now. Do take care of Harry, Emily. He will change our world for the better, you know."

Emily huffed. "I'll be the one making the changes in our world, you old goat. Harry will be my arm candy, watching me do it."

Dumbledore did not reply, simply watching her as she moved away, the serene smile never leaving his face. As she blinked her eyes, he was gone.

"This is so far beyond my expectations. Why didn't I just leave this one stone unturned?" Running a hand through her raven locks, Emily pulled the portkey from her robes and and was soon standing inside her office. She hadn't been gone for more than half an hour. Walking back to where she had previously left Harry, she was shocked by what she found.

"Nah, you need to give it a stronger flick, Dobby."

Her husband was seated in front of a nervous wreck of a house elf. A house elf who was holding a wand. "HARRY POTTER! What in God's name do you think you're doing?! Are you teaching that house elf magic?!"

Harry gave her a brief glance before returning his gaze back to Dobby, critiquing his form again before answering her. "Isn't it kind of obvious from what you're seeing?"

"It's illegal, Harry."

He shrugged. "So is attempted genocide, but... funnily enough, I don't recall that stopping you." Craning his neck backwards, he could barely show her an upside down grin. "Guess you're bad habits are rubbing off on me."

Her knee jerk reaction was to say that the two things weren't on the same level, but her brain caught her before she could make the mistake. Clearly genocide was a vastly more horrendous crime than teaching a single elf wand magic. But teaching a lesser being wand magic just rubbed her the wrong way. It seemed so wrong to her, but Harry would never see it that way. Harry was a modern man, after all. He saw all sentient life, be it humans, elves, goblins and even Acromantula's as being on the same level.

He understood her reasoning, of course. She had explained that because elves had a subservient culture, they were lesser than other magical species. There were equitable reasons for each race that she viewed below their kind. It was only wizards and witches that desired real power. But though Harry could understand her, it didn't mean he would agree with her. He saw the world through a different lens. He always had, and though he always did his best to sympathize with her views, he never actively tried to adopt them.

Harry was just too good, his heart was too open. While he wouldn't push his friend Hermione's SPEW aspirations, as that was not what the elves desired, he was more than willing to treat them as his equal. She, who could only respect power, would never have the capability that he had. Perhaps that was what Albus had meant with his last words to her. It was this earnest sense of equality that had to have led her to witnessing the scene before her.

"I'm not getting involved. Do what you wish."

"Er, wait, hold on! What happened with Grindlewald?"

Not even bothering to slow down, she kept moving towards their bedroom. She did shout out a response loud enough for him to hear. "Later!"

Harry watched as his wife left the room. He knew that his wife wouldn't be happy about him teaching Dobby magic, but he was surprised that she just dropped the subject so easily.

"Is Harry Potter certain that he wants Dobby to be able to use wizard magic?"

Harry smirked at his friend's comment. "Yes, very certain. Of course, only if you yourself are certain that you want to help us."

Dobby answered quickly. "Dobby wishes to help Harry Potter. Mrs. Potter, Dobby is less inclined to assist."

Harry laughed. Dobby and Emily certainly had a frosty relationship. She had told him once how Dobby had disarmed her and taken her wand. It was this that had inspired him to teach the elf wand magic. He knew they had to be able, recalling that Barty Crouch had accused an elf of casting the dark mark when he had gone to the Quidditch World Cup. Meaning that elves had to at least have some ability to use wands, even if the compatibility was poor.

It was to Harry's immense delight that as soon as Dobby wrapped his fingers around Harry's holly wand, the wand shot out golden sparks. The wand clearly accepted Dobby at least on a base level, and Harry had to wonder if the wand responded to Dobby's deep respect and regards towards Harry. Harry and Emily were quite capable of using each other's wands just fine and Harry pondered on Ollivander's words of the wand choosing the wizard. Just what did that entail, and to what extent could someone else use his wand. Disarming an opponent was Harry's number one action, so he had his hands on a multitude of wands, but none had felt as good as Emily's. Emily's wand felt right. It had been the only wand that Harry could truly use just as well as his own.

Harry had an uneasy feeling when he thought about his and Emily's future. The few visions he had of his wife unsettled him. The majority of the things he saw revolved around the same scene of her, standing in the wreckage of some sort of catastrophe. Something would happen that would reduce his wife to a point of weakness he never could have thought possible. And he had a nagging feeling that he wouldn't be in a position to help her.

It wasn't for the first time that Harry's initial idea to subvert their current course came to mind. He thought to hide his horcrux, but Emily guarded her ring jealously. Even more so after realizing how its twin, the one resting on his finger, would be the anchor for Delphini in the future. Nothing he could say would convince her that the precious item would be safer elsewhere. So, he did something he felt would be invoncievable. He'd train Dobby to use a wand. Surely such an unexpected decision would have some impact on their timeline. Harry knew that truly altering time was impossible, things were already set in stone, he believed that small changes could slip through. Still, there was only so much he could meddle with, and without knowing more information on what he was changing, his hands were tied.

Dobby took to the magic quickly enough, but Harry eventually realized that this method was a failure. Dobby could certainly perform many charms and spells with his wand, but any real combative magic seemed elusive. His own brand of elf magic was certainly more effective than anything Harry was able to teach him.

"So much for this idea."

"I am sorry, Harry Potter, sir. Dobby wishes he could have done better."

Harry shrugged, nonchalantly. "Nothing you can do about it Dobby. No need to apologize. I just need to think of something different."

And he had been. He had been churning through ideas as quickly as they came to him. But nothing good had appeared.

With a sigh, he spoke. "Was there even a point to this?"

"Harry Potter, sir?"

Harry heard the concern in his friend's voice. Dobby was an elf, perhaps he knew something helpful. Harry wasn't Emily, after all. He didn't have an elitist pride that prevented him asking questions from others.

"Something bad is going to happen to Emily, Dobby. Or perhaps something might even happen to me. I can't tell what it is. I just know that something terrible will happen. Its... frustrating. I've been trying to brainstorm ways to help us fight Voldemort, but each bright idea ends up being... dim."

"Harry Potter shouldn't worry too much about the Dark Lord. Harry Potter is a great wizard. You-Know-Who is right to fear Harry Potter. You will win, sir, Dobby is certain."

"I don't even think she cares about me at all. Her focus is solely on Emily. My dying is just a way for her to get to Emily."

Dobby nodded slowly. "Dobby knows many powerful enchantments, but none that will help. The best house elf protections are cast on the home rather than the family. My magic wouldn't help."

Harry nodded. In fact, he had already known this. Emily had said it in passing to him once. It was why Harry had tried to expand Dobby's ability through the use of a wand.

"Dobby does not like Mrs. Potter."

Harry turned his head to the elf. This was an obvious fact, but not one Dobby would normally say to his face. Clearly knowing that this statement would branch to something else, Harry waited patiently as his diminutive friend searched for the words he wished to say.

"But Dobby knows that Emily Potter will spare no effort in keeping you safe, Harry Potter. What is more, Dobby knows that the reverse is also true. Harry Potter would do anything for his wife. Dobby believes that the best way you can protect yourselves... is to have faith that the other will keep you safe."

Despite Harry's nature to listen and respect others, his kneejerk reaction was to scoff at Dobby's suggestion. Did Dobby honestly think that Harry had the ability to protect Emily as he was now?

But then, he remembered the single time Emily had been caught off guard in his presence. Was it not himself who deflected the spell aimed for her back in the ministry atrium? The one moment when they would have lost everything, was it not him who stepped in to cover her back. She had ended up losing that fight, but she was not captured, and had used that opportunity to steal him back from the Order and Dumbledore.

"Dobby knows that it is hard to see yourself clearly when you compare yourself to you wife, Harry Potter. But that is because you spend more time watching how bright she shines, and you never see your own light. Trust in my words, Harry Potter, you're most certainly your wife's equal in many ways. Get some rest, Dobby will see you again."

With a snap of his fingers, Dobby was gone, leaving Harry somewhat flabbergasted on the couch. He couldn't believe it, but somewhere in all of Dobby's hero worship, he had complimented his wife.

"Didn't expect that one." Running a hand through his permanently mess hair, he sighed. "Maybe Dobby is right. Emily and I have bested the impossible over and over. Why should I worry now? McGonagall always said divination was a load of hippogryff dung anyway." Finally resovling to shelve his worries for the day, he made a quick decision.

Harry rose from the couch, and went towards the bedroom he shared with Emily. She seemed weary when she had arrived home. She had probably splayed herself across the bed as soon as reached it. Sure enough, once he entered the room, he saw her laying face down on the bed with her robes in disarray. It was oddly funny, seeing her in the same position that she had been a few hours earlier.

"Interesting outing?"

Her mumbled voice, quiet but clear, reached his ears as she spoke into the mattress. "You have absolutely no idea."

He chuckled. "True, but you are the great Emily Potter. Surely someone of your prowess and ability might be able to give me one."

She gave a single, forced laugh, before rolling to her side to face him. "Lets just leave it at the fact that Grindlewald keeps strange company. He is harmless though. Well, harmless to you and myself, that is."

"Yeah, I get the feeling that there is a whole lot more to that story. But I'll take your word as is." Leaning down to her, he placed a light kiss on her cheek. "Come on, get up. We're leaving soon,"

Emily quirked her eyebrow at him quizzically. "We didn't have any plans that I am aware of tonight, Harry. What surprise have you got in store for me?"

Harry just shrugged. "Nothing that thought out, unfortunately. I just... I want to do something with you."

This statement caused Emily to smile. "I can think of a few things you can do with me. Most of them involve not even leaving this room."

With a laugh, Harry grabbed his wife's hand and pulled her up to stand beside him. "Like I said, get ready. We're headed out."

"Fine. But if you plan on dragging me to another muggle cinema, the movie had better be good this time."

"Nope, I think we should do something a bit more... magical."

"Really, Harry. A quidditch game?"

Harry smiled. "Why not? I know you enjoy watching them. You attended all my games in Hogwarts."

Emily rolled her eyes. "Did it ever occur to you, that maybe, my love of the game stemmed from one of the players, rather than the sport itself?"

"Funnily enough, it did. But I know you found an appreciation for the sport, even if you're just comparing the other players to me."

"Still, the Wasps versus the Magpies... this one could drag out. They're bottom tier teams this year, only above the Cannons. Though to be fair, a team of first years from Hogwarts would still be above the Cannons."

Harry snorted. "I'm sure if Ron were here, he'd be offended. I've honestly never seen a professional game, other than the world cup when I was fourteen. It was an intense match, I'm curious if there is a comparable level of skill here."

"Of course not. Like I said, garbage teams. Honestly, Harry, if there were seven of you, you could form your own team and crush the entire British-Irish League."

"I like that idea. Can you imagine it? Seven Harry Potter's soaring through the sky. Winning the league cup. Going to the international stage. Of course, you'd have to give up your dreams of world domination and become the team manager." Harry gave her a crooked smile. "But hey, you'd have the Quidditch World Cup sitting in your office, every single year. I'd make sure of it."

"Yes, well, the moment you figure out how to clone yourself, let me know. I'll decide whether or not I'll shelve my ambitions for a few years and relegate myself to... well, managing you. Which I kind of already do, anyway. Who knows, maybe I can juggle both career paths."

"There's the ego. Wondered how long you'd take to pull it out."

"Mhmm, really going to bring that up? Coming from the guy who had to use his famous name to score last minute seats to a match." Emily stared at Harry, and he wilted a fraction. Technically, his name hadn't even come up. They had shown up to the pitch and asked if there was any seating left. At first they had been told no, but the ticket salesman did a fast double take, before ushering them in and leading them to the stadium's VIP box. They were the only two here.

"For all you know, it was you they recognized. Your face has been plastered on the Daily Prophet pretty regularly after all. Maybe the guy was a fan of yours."

"Yeah, thats exactly why he said, and I quote, 'No problem at all, Mr Harry Po- I mean Pot- Mr. Potter.' Yes it was clearly I who had struck him dumb."

Harry slumped down a bit further, but perked up immediately after, when the teams came onto the pitch. Despite Emily's claims, the match itself actually went by fairly quickly. The game lasting only three quarters of an hour. Of course, the highlight of the evening, as far as he was concerned, was when his wife started shouting obscenities at the ref for completely ignoring one of the Magpie's beaters for blatching. The beater clearly heard her and only moments later tried to bumph the bludger towards his wife. Fortunately the ref called that foul and and Emily temper was soothed. Perhaps, the blasting curse that she destroyed the bludger with help her relieve some steam as well. The game had to be paused for a few minutes as they found a replacement.

"They were pretty peeved at you for doing that."

Emily put on an indignant look. "For what? Protecting myself? Please, I should sue the owners of the stadium for putting me at risk."

"What risk, the VIP box is spelled to repel bludgers. It never would've made it to you. The beater was just trying to scare you."

Emily smirked. "Yeah, but did you see that little shit's face after I blasted that thing to smithereens. He was terrified. I guarantee he won't be committing that foul anytime soon."

"Yeah, yeah, my wife's incredibly good with a wand. She taught me everything I know... but yeah, that was hilarious. I thought the bloke was about to fall of his broom in shock." Harry smiled while remembering the moment.

"He got his deserts later when that Wasp's player ran his broomstick into that jackass's crotch. Hope there's lasting damage."

"Vicious, much?"

"No, but I savagely enjoy seeing that pathetic waste of a player rolling around in agony. Shame he didn't actually fall off. That would've made the match worth seeing alone."

Harry laughed at his wife's attitude. She was worked up just enough for her eyes to get a gentle ember glow. "Did you have fun?"

Emily nodded. "I wouldn't go out of my way to plan a similar date, but if you ever happen to get an urge to go out and do this again, I wouldn't be opposed to joining you."

"Good. We've had a few odd days lately. I kinda felt we needed some sort of reset. Some normalcy. This was what came to mind."

Emily placed a hand around his waste as they exited the stadium. With a quick jerk that Harry hadn't expected, the two apparated to a bistro in Diagon Alley.

"Ugh, a little warning next time?"

"Sorry, I wanted to comandeer our choice of dining. I figured I'd cut any preemptive ideas off before you had a chance to voice them. I'm craving french cuisine."

Harry shrugged. He actually hadn't thought about food. Which, now that he was, he realized suddenly that he was rather hungry. "Sure, I'll eat just about anything right now."

Emily entered the establishment and gave the maitre'd her order. Once Harry followed her inside, she leaned into his side to speak to him softly. "You'd better eat something hearty. I've got control over this date now, and I fully intend to head home and explore all the things you could have done to me earlier in the bedroom."

A/N: So a reviewer posted something saying I should reveal to Harry what Emily's original intention for the time turner was. Funnily enough, that plan is actually sorta kinda in the works. I've been brainstorming for another short story (longer than Disappearance though) after the series concludes. To explain a certain characters... status. Anyway, its going to be heavily... something. Psychological? Maybe. Not really sure how to describe it, but yeah, Emily's original use for time travel will be revealed to Harry in a... special way. Thanks for reading. Love and affection to you all.