Author's note: I don't own anything Harry Potter related. It all belongs to JK Rowling.
Pronouns will follow character usage.
Isolt could tell that tonight was going to require several hangover cure potions.
"Okay kids, everyone out. There are rooms upstairs, please pick one and get some rest. Tomorrow I'll be taking you all back to Hogwarts." Sirius directed the kids with an ease that surprised Isolt.
'Guess he's good with kids. Who figured.' She thought, swirling her third glass of firewhiskey.
"Actually, Sirius, if you don't mind, I need to speak with Harry first, before I speak to anyone else. It's rather important." She called out when she saw her younger-self about to walk through the door. 'This is going to take getting used to. I mean, it's me, but it's also not? Thank Merlin I didn't have a time turner like 'Mione did. I'd probably give myself an aneurysm just thinking about past-selves and future-selves and whatnot.'
As soon as he heard the witch call his name, Harry had a vague feeling he knew what she was going to ask about: why he was in the Ministry in the first place. He certainly knew his first question for her: "Why do you look like my mum?". He figured it was a question on everyone's mind, and no small part of him hoped that this actually was his mum, somehow returned from the dead.
Harry looked at Sirius, who seemed to be torn between staring at the witch and staring at him. Sirius sighed, put a hand on Harry's shoulder and whispered in a voice only Harry could hear,
"I'll be just outside. Holler if you need me, or if you need help."
And with that, Sirius ushered the other kids back into the hallway, closing the door behind him, and leaving Harry in the room with someone who looked so much like his mother. She was looking at him with a small smile on her face, but he could tell she was worried. It was in her eyes.
Without even waiting a heartbeat, Harry blurted out, "Are you my mother?" A moment passed, and Harry's hand shot up to his mouth, his face turning red from embarrassment.
Chuckling, the witch closed her eyes, taking a sip from her drink. "No, Harry. I'm not. The truth though is far stranger. Tell me, did you hear the prophecy?"
Harry's head dropped at first when she admitted that she wasn't his mother, but then raised again in confusion as she continued speaking.
"I'm uh, not sure how you know what I was doing. But no, I didn't hear the full thing. We got attacked before it could finish, and they really seemed to want it, so I smashed it on the ground." He replied, sheepishly.
"Ah, well good. It wouldn't do for them to have it, so don't beat yourself up too much. I'd wager that I know the full thing anyway, or at least I hope I do. Though, Dumbledore should be able to confirm it, regardless."
"Wait, Dumbledore knows the prophecy? Why'd he never tell me? Is this why he's been avoiding me all year? Who are you?" Harry sped through his questions, as seemingly each answer he'd gotten from the witch only yielded more questions.
"Let me answer those questions in reverse order. Rather rude of me to not introduce myself, when I know perfectly well who you are. My name is Isolt Peverell. I'm a, uh, well, I'm a relative of yours. I can explain more later. Maybe? I'm not sure how this all works, to be quite honest. My…friend would have a better clue."
Harry seemed ready to interject, but at her insistence, he kept quiet and let her finish. He did bombard her with questions after all.
"As for if this is why Dumbledore has been avoiding you, that's a bit of a mixed bag, but it is in fact part of the reason. The other part is a certain connection you have. And finally, yes, he knows the prophecy, as I believe it was told to him by your Divination professor, Professor Trelawney, back in either 1980 or early 1981, I assume. He probably has some 'grand' reason why he never told you, but honestly, he can snuff it."
Harry noticed that Isolt seemed really annoyed at any mention of Dumbledore, though he couldn't figure out why. He's the greatest wizard to have lived, besides Merlin, after all.
"But Ms. Peverell –"
"Oh please don't call me that. I'm not much older than you, kid. Isolt is fine."
"O-okay, Isolt, how do you know the prophecy?"
Sighing, Isolt took a long draw of her drink, finishing the cup and refilling it, before she turned her attention back to her younger self.
"What I'm about to say stays between us. And I will be working on your Occlumency shields. Agreed?"
"Agreed," replied Harry, eager to get deeper answers to his burning question, and hopefully a more competent and less vindictive Occlumency teacher.
"I'm you, from the future. About four or so years in the future, to be exact."
Harry's eyes went wide, hell, he nearly fainted. To find out that this person, was him, er, her, was shocking.
"Hey kid, don't worry. If you're like, well, me," she gestured to her body, "then this happened in my sixth year. I transitioned from Harry Potter to Isolt Peverell."
"Do you think I can do that!" Harry yelled out, maybe a bit too excitedly.
"If that is what you want, then yes, I imagine you could. We do live in a world full of magic, after all." She smirked at him, and held out her hand to let a spark of blue lightning jump from it and circle around his head. "You'll find that, if you have the right motivation, you can learn and do anything. I went from an average student to topping the student ranks in my sixth year. I even self-taught myself Occlumency, which pissed Snape off to no end."
Harry could hardly mistake the mirth in her voice as she listened to Isolt mention pissing Snape off.
"Um, if you don't mind, would you mind telling me the full prophecy? I uh, want to be prepared, if that makes sense."
"Of course it does, Harry. Now, I'm not the best at interpreting prophecies, as they're all kind of vague to begin with, like the fortunes in fortune cookies, but here goes: The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not, and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives."
Isolt finished, and quickly turned her head, to hide the tears from falling. It had barely been a day when she killed Voldemort and saw so many of her friends and loved ones lying dead on the floor of Hogwarts. She didn't want Harry to know what victory had cost her.
"Isolt, what happened to you? Why are you back in time?"
Dropping her head, Isolt's voice turned a rather pained shade of dark "It's best if you don't know that, kid. And please, don't ask me about that again. Maybe one day I'll tell you, but, it's too fresh for me. Occluding my emotions can only help for so long, and I'm going to need a hell of a mind-healer to properly process everything."
Harry, a bit sad that her future-self seemed to be in so much pain, moved to place a hand on her shoulder.
"I understand, Isolt. If I may, one last question: why did you change your name?"
"Well kid, I was tired. Tired of being a title and not a name. Harry Potter, the Boy who Lived was forced on me and I never liked it. Nor did I enjoy constantly hearing how much like James I was. I wanted a connection to my mother, ergo my appearance, but still have a connection with my father's family. I did some digging and saw the Peverell family way back in the Potter Family Tree, hence the name Peverell. As for Isolt, I read about an Isolt who founded the magic school in the Americas, Ilvermorny, and I really liked the name. So I made it mine."
"Oh, well, thank you, Isolt. And I'm glad you're safe now. Do you mind if I go to bed? I wanna think about some things, and I'm sure Sirius is dying to speak to you."
Smiling at the young child, Isolt nodded, and said, "Of course! I'll be here in the morning, if you want to talk further. Doubt I'll be apparating anywhere after drinking this much firewhiskey." She laughed, and continued, "And Harry, remember tell no one, not even Ron and Hermione. And if you want to continue talking about this," she gestured to herself, "let me know, okay?"
Harry smiled at her, and before he opened the door, wished her good night. Then he was out the door, calling for Sirius.
A few minutes later found Sirius in the sitting room with Isolt. He watched her pour herself some water, and him a glass of firewhiskey, before she sat back down in the chair opposite him.
"Sirius, how good are your Occlumency shields?"
"Well that's a rather blunt question. But, if I had to say, I'd say they were pretty damned good. One of the few advantages being born into a pure-blood family afforded me."
"May I test them? I need to know I can trust you with this information."
"Well, if you must, but I require a promise that all you'll be doing is testing them, not attempting to shatter them."
"Of course, Sirius. I don't think I could ever harm you."
Pointing her holly wand at him, and waiting for him to give her consent, she whispered Legilimens and felt herself get sucked into the mind of the most wanted man in all of Britain.
Moments later, Isolt felt her mind return to her body. Quickly downing some water, she looked at Sirius and nodded at him.
"No wonder Azkaban didn't break you. Those are some damn tough shields."
Sirius laughed, clapping his hands as he did so.
"Of course, Ms. Peverell. I did warn you." Isolt would later swear she saw a twinkle in Sirius' eyes.
"Thank you for trusting me, Sirius. Now, let me trust you." Sirius could see that she was straightening up, getting ready for whatever she was about to tell him.
"I'm from the future, about four years in the future, to be exact. I wasn't always known as Isolt Peverell, instead, I took that name in my sixth year, the '96-'97 school year. Before that, I was known as 'Harry James Potter'".
Sirius felt like a bomb had just landed in his stomach. Not only was this witch claiming to be from the future, but she was his godson, er, goddaughter.
"If you don't believe me, I'll let you in to my head. I'd prefer to show you, as it'll take vastly less time that way."
Sirius could only stare at her dumb-founded. Slowly, he regained his wits and looked her in the eye. "If you insist, Isolt. May I call you that?"
Isolt smiled warmly at the man. Here he was, just having been told that time travel was possible without a time-turner, and he's more concerned with if he's allowed to call her by her name.
Chuckling to herself, she looked Sirius back in the eye, "Of course, Sirius. You are my godfather, after all."
Joining in with his goddaughter's laughter, "Right you are, Isolt. And don't you forget it! Are you ready?"
Isolt nodded, her eyes never leaving Sirius' gaze, and she felt him slip into her mind. She let her shields fall, and guided him to her memories of her nine years in the Wizarding world.
What seemed like hours later, Sirius finally pulled back, and ran over to a bin and promptly threw up the contents of his stomach.
"Isolt, I swear to Merlin, I have half a mind to drag you to a mind-healer myself. I doubt I'd have much luck forcing you to do anything, considering you bested Voldemort, but still. That being said, thank you for saving me today. I know what me surviving means."
She felt a warm feeling of happiness spread throughout her body, as Sirius basically scolded her as a parent would their child. It felt…nice.
"Well Sirius, as much as I appreciate you taking a more parental role over me, I think young Harry needs it more than I do. And please, support Harry in whatever they decide. I'd hate to have to duel you." She smirked at him, and Sirius could feel the weight of her words.
"I would never do anything to harm my godchild. If Harry decides anything, Harry will have my full support."
"Good. Now, if you don't mind, I'm fucking tired."
Isolt got up, crossed the room, turned and looked at the wizard, muttering a "good night" to him, and went to find a room to sleep in.
Sirius, on the other hand, stayed in the sitting room, opting to lay on the couch and finish the bottle of firewhiskey. He felt he needed it after seeing all the shit his somewhat-future goddaughter had been through.
"Well James, Lily, it seems I've been given another new lease on life. Let's hope I don't cock it up again."
And Sirius drifted off to sleep, dreaming dreams of his best friends and godchildren getting up to the most hilarious of pranks.