KEYnote: Oh the flames! Not surprised, but if you haven't caught on to there being a reason behind my madness… I can't help you. I never claimed to have sanity.
Note: Nothing in the Fantastic Beast movies should be treated as canon. Credence… who? I think they do a poor job of establishing Grindelwald as a consistent character with believable motives, and I did the time travel because both Jude Law and Mads Mikkelson are more interesting for me to develop than a boss-villain who just appears as the next evil for Act III.
P.s. Did y'all forget Harris still has to deal with Voldemort in Act II? We haven't even passed the year mark in this story.
Chapter 17 - To Be Happy
The first week of teaching had passed in a haze, Harris hadn't called on anyone, hadn't used any of their names.
This was, after all, the Lost Generation.
And in a way, still lost to him.
It was like teaching ghosts, not children.
But Dumbledore's investigation of him, his revelations that he was in a parallel universe and not a time traveller had been…
Life saving.
Monday felt like a new start.
A new life.
He still missed his family, missed them so much it was a burn in his heart.
But he could go on, knowing that they too went on, that they weren't erased.
Andromeda had either believed it was time travel out of self-delusion, or she had simply snapped and had traded her soul for a chance to see her husband and daughter one last time, sacrificing Harris's well being and her counter self's soul in a bid to save Nymphadora and Ted.
Harris personally believed the latter.
Selfish. Delusional. Unforgivable.
But a part of him understood, for if she felt as he had about losing his children, then he did understand the desire to bargain with the devil to give anything for the chance of their survival.
What he didn't understand, however, was her line of thinking, mainly because if she had intended him to feel as he had about losing everything… then what he felt for her was hate.
Something stronger than what he felt for Voldemort. Something more than he had room for in his somewhat fragile and beaten down psyche.
Harris was drawn from his thoughts by the fifth year class.
He smiled at them, time to prove why he had been considered the Best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher since Albus dumbledore himself.
Last week he had simply had his class take notes as he lectured about all the lies Umbridge's book had taught them. Oddly, it was a neat teaching method, the student body hated the one and were eager to prove her wrong even if she would never know what they accomplished out of spite.
The rest of the year would be different. Harris always assigned a few writing projects, just so everyone could pass the written part of the exam and begin understanding the theory behind the spellwork, but primarily his classes were all practical.
It made him rather popular, a type of popularity that Harris enjoyed earning.
Draco hated to admit it, hated to admit what a fantastic teacher Professor Black, aka Harry Potter from the future, aka the man his father told him his mother was… with.
But the man wasn't anything like Harry Potter, for one the man talked like a pureblood noble and was truly terrifying. He had a presence about him, a gravitas that made him… unapproachable.
But that was last week, this week the man was buoyant, and he waved his wand and changed the room around with a dismissive use of magic that was jaw dropping.
They had always said Harry Potter was the Dark Lord's fated equal.
Perhaps there was more to it than that.
Draco's Harry, annoying twit that he was, had gone 'missing'. Or as Dumbledore put it running around with Professor Scamander.
Now Hagrid was back which was nothing short of depressing. Classes had actually been interesting with the Newt Scamander teaching them.
Draco wasn't sure how it was legal that Professor had inducted two underaged kids as his assistants to travel around the globe, but by the way, the adults weren't talking about it, he figured something had happened.
What exactly that was, Draco had no bloody clue.
Like most of his life lately, he had no clue.
No clue why Theo and Blaise were exchanging letters with his mum and Sirius Black.
No clue why his mum was leaving his father…
Well, maybe he understood, the Dark Lord and whatnot, but that seemed odd considering his mum had always known his father's history.
Draco did, on some level, understand that more was going on between his parents and that his mum was protecting him by having him move to Grimmauld Place where the Dark Lord couldn't get him, but…
But he missed his father and he hated the way his mother touched Harris's shoulders, or hand, or the pointed looks she gave him.
He hated it.
And he wanted to hate everything about Harris Black, but as a number of targets rose at varying heights, some rotating in place others bobbing up and down or side to side, Draco found himself unable to hate the wizard's teaching techniques.
"Today," Professor Black said. "We will be working on aim. Don't hit each other, which is more or less the entire point of this class and I will dismiss you from the room if any of you decide to make this a free for all. You may fire when ready."
The class hesitated, but when Theo and Blaise struck two bolts of red at a single target that blew plums of coloured smoke did everyone take up arms.
What followed was the most fun Draco had ever had in a Hogwarts classroom.
Some of the targets were tricked and would spin out of the moment like a balloon. Others proved to be mere illusions, and grew more erratic the more you hit it.
No one heard the bell ring, over the talking, exclamations, and taunting targets who would sometimes trumpet if you hit them dead centre. In fact, they only knew the class was over when the next class started to trickle in.
Harris was able to clean the room, resetting all the targets to their mundane position with seemingly one spell.
Only, it couldn't have been one spell. One spell couldn't have possibly brought order to that much chaos and mayhem.
The class, Draco included, moaned in protest but Professor Black merely laughed and shooed them off.
Draco had never understood why everyone thought Harry Potter was so great, but he was beginning to think there was a reason his mom had a crush on Professor Black.
He was pretty sure after this week, the majority of the student body would have a crush on the man, salt and pepper hair notwithstanding.
New York City - 1926
Newt Scamander was running through the darkened streets of New York trying to gather all his lost creatures before the American Aurors caught up with him and the muggle who he had illegally shared the knowledge of magic with.
Even for him, it had been a night after a rather long day.
He rounded another street corner and came to an abrupt halt, seeing two children looking into a store window.
That in itself, shouldn't have been remarkable, but it was quite late and they were too nicely dressed to be unchaperoned.
Of course, they weren't precisely alone.
A girl with white hair spilling from beneath her knit hat was holding onto the clawed hand of Newt's demiguises and the black haired boy was holding a teapot in his hands.
Why a teapot?
Newt had no idea, but as he approached, he discovered why these kids were looking into a darkened storefront.
The first clue was the crash.
The second was the letters painted on the storefront: Jeweller's Dream.
More like a nifflers paradise.
Newt vanished the window as the two children, teenagers really, exclaimed, "Professor Newt!"
Professor?
Jacob, who had chased after Newt, groaned, "No! Not the jewellers! Wasn't the bank bad enough?"
Newt huffed, it wasn't his fault most humans coveted wealth worse than goblins or nifflers.
He dove into the shop, his niffler, Teddy, knew he was in trouble. Newt somehow ended up knocking everything over and almost had the chandler come down on his head.
There was a pop as someone apparated in.
He looked up as he shook the jewels and jewellery out of Teddy's pouch.
"Scamander!" someone exclaimed.
Wonderful, Auror Tina Goldstein.
Newt didn't bother to meet her gaze as he hopped out of the window, Teddy dangling from his hand by his feet.
"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" Tina demanded of the two kids, catching on to that.
"Harry and this is Luna, we're here to help Professor Scamander," the boy, who was both British and knew him somehow, said.
Newt spluttered and Tina turned on him with fury burning in her dark eyes, "You brought kids into this?"
"No, we're just helping, we don't actually remember how we got here," the girl, Luna, interrupted.
"Oh, good, I'm not the only one who has no clue how I got here," Jacob said, fidgeting and giving sideways looks to the destroyed shop behind Newt.
"Helping how?" Tina demanded, unrelenting.
Luna looked down at the demiguise who hid behind the girl's skirts, a sign that whoever Luna was, her nature was trustworthy if the demiguise trusted her to protect him.
Harry held up his teapot, "We found the occamy."
Newt sighed a breath of relief, incredibly grateful that no one word hurt or catch and sell his creatures.
Sirens wailed then.
"We need to go!" Jacob warned.
Tina let out a harsh breath, taking a step toward the two teenagers and putting a hand on their shoulders, glaring her intention to Newt.
Understanding, Newt opened his case, urging Teddy and the demiguise inside, before clicking it shut. He grabbed onto Jacob's arm, and Harry seemed to catch on because he caught Jacob's free hand in his.
Tina disapparated them away, Newt assisting, just before the muggle police rounded the corner.
London - 1996
Bella watched him. Something had changed.
Something monumental.
She knew what it was to shatter. To break beyond fixing.
She still wasn't what she could have been, knew if the wind blew hard, if she were unmoored, seen the lighthouse flick out, she could not find her way back on her own.
Dependence was a hard thing, but she wouldn't trade the happiness she had been given to be alone again.
Harris was independent. Had been from the beginning, taking care of everything and everyone.
Wise as he was powerful.
But he had been slipping, illogical and careless.
Now that Bella could look back on it critically, she could see that he had been suicidal. He had her use the killing curse on him.
He had pushed and poked and taunted Albus Dumbledore into duels, he had purposely pissed off the Dark Lord, and he had been too open about his past.
Harris was a smart man, he should have been able to keep his silence, held onto his knowledge of the future and benefited from it.
Instead, he had lost his temper, sharing with people he claimed to hate, things that were deeply personal.
He had done it because he hadn't cared, had been too hurt, anyone. He had been all but daring the world to strike him again, to end him.
Instead, he had met Andromeda who had done this to him, betrayed him too and then watched her die.
Bella found it hard to mourn Andromeda, she mourned the could have beens more than the person she had become.
She thought things would get better when Narcissa told them she was pregnant.
It both had made things better and worse, Harris would be bright and buoyant one moment and silent and brooding in the next.
But something had changed.
Something had settled in him.
As he placed the meal he had prepared onto plates she approached him.
"Harris?" she asked, her heart pounding with what she was about to say.
What she might say if she didn't lose her courage.
He turned to her and smiled, a smile that shone in his eyes.
The sadness there remained, but for the first time, she thought he might see her.
Not her needs, not her wants, but just her as she was.
Heart fighting against the confines of her chest, she had a fleeting moment to wish that Cissa was here to hold her hand.
She dismissed the impulse, she could share Harris with her sister.
Sisters, in truth, for no matter if it was love, hate, or indifference, Harris would never be over what Andromeda had done to him.
The life they had built together, the life she had destroyed, and this new Andromeda had set them all.
Andromeda would never be forgotten or forgiven.
So, yes, Bella knew exactly what she was getting herself into, that she might never have his full heart, that they would never be innocents sharing a pure union.
But it could be real, it could be wonderful.
With all their broken edges, they might be strong enough to meet the future together.
Harris touched her cheek with his fingers, gently calling her from her spiralling thoughts.
"Bella?" He asked softly.
I love you, she almost screamed but the words got caught in her throat.
Andromeda had asked for his love once and spat it at his feet.
Narcissa asked for his body.
Bella wanted whatever was left of him, whatever he was willing to share with her.
For a man so broken to be capable of such compassion… she wanted a life with him. Wanted to hold onto the light of him.
He might not see it himself, but Bella had always known that stars shone brightest in the dark.
"I like you," she managed to articulate. It was paltry to what she felt, to what she meant, but she had said it and she could not take those words back.
Harris tilted his head to the side, his expression searching.
She was terrified that he would call her a child, claiming she was too broken to know her own mind and desires.
Feared he would think she wanted him only because he had been the one to pull her back from the brink.
But she didn't love him for what he had given her, or even how he made her feel, she loved him for him. For being the strongest and most honourable man she had ever met.
Her first husband had not been her choice, Harris very much was.
She wasn't sure what he saw there because he lowered his forehead to hers in a gesture that was both intimate and familiar.
Pain tore through her, at the kindest rejection she had ever received.
She shut her eyes but not in time to halt the tear that escaped.
She startled a bit when Harris kissed the tear away, her eyes springing open as he pulled back.
Her breath caught, afraid to hope.
Harris searched her face once again, his fingers tracing her jaw before he turned up her chin.
She waited.
When he lowered his head again, he did so slowly, giving her ample time to move away.
She didn't dare move.
Her eyelids fluttered shut when his lips met hers, the kiss was cautious but far from familiar.
She sucked in a breath, bringing her hands up to hold his neck as she kissed him back telling him how much she wanted him that she had failed to put into words.
His hands went to her hips and happiness shot like a bolt up her spine.
Victory was hers.
When he pulled back, she made an annoyed sound.
He huffed a laugh, pulling her into an embrace even as he said, "Dinner is ready."
For once, she really didn't care about us damned cooking. She melted into his arms as if she could keep them from ever parting.
But Harris pulled back from her, "We will take this slow, Bella."
She pouted, knowing she wouldn't get anywhere when he used that tone. "Why?"
He threw her a grin before reaching for the plates, "Because I want to take it slow."
"You didn't take it slow with Cissa," she challenged even as she followed him to the table, taking her seat without being bid.
He kissed her cheek, setting her plate down in front of her, "But you want more than that, don't you, Bella darling?"
She shivered, he was definitely ready to play this game with her. The mirth in his eyes told her all she needed to know about how this courtship was likely to proceed.
"What is it you want?"
Harris took his seat across from her at their small table and said directly, "Marriage. My first wife was a child's mistake and Andromeda… played me for a fool. I'm not doing that again."
"I'm not like that," she protested.
"You don't want to remarry, ever?" he asked.
"No—" she tripped over her words. "No, I don't mean that. But I'm not ready—"
"So you agree," he concluded. "We will take our time with this."
"You didn't take it slow with Narcissa. You aren't taking your time with her."
"But you want more, and more takes time. I am not a healthy person, Bella," he said.
She bit her tongue, she really didn't think saying 'neither am I' would help her case.
"Do you want me to stop being with Narcissa?" Harris asked suddenly.
"No," she said immediately. "The child is yours and hers, I want to be a part of that, more involved than I was allowed to be with Reggie and Siri." Nymphadora was the unspoken addition. "My family is important to me."
"No matter what happens between us, Bella, we will always be family," Harris said. "But I need to know what you think of Narcissa in our bed."
Our bed.
Because it was their bed, the three of them had been falling asleep together on a semi-regular basis.
"I'm more comfortable with Cissa than I am with you," she said perhaps too candidly.
Harris smiled, "We have time, Bella, and neither I nor Narcissa will abandon you."
She picked up her fork, "So you're courting me, but Narcissa could move in with us?"
Full time.
"Yes, though I believe you are also courting me," he said.
She motioned to her plate, "I'm not good at any of this, at being romantic."
He shrugged, "Everyone is different, but I trust that you'll find your voice."
How to say I love you, he meant, even if not in so many words has he had been doing for the Black family.
"You're perilously close to being condescending, Professor Black," she said, nervous with how much power he had given her.
This was her choice, her battle to win or turn her back on. She could fail this game and lose his heart, but not her place in his life.
"I'm afraid, my dear, you'll have to take me as I am," he said in turn, a bit more serious.
There was no way to truly lose without purposely and deliberately trying to hurt him, which meant if she did want all of him, she would have to prove that her heart was with the trouble of trusting a Black sister again.
Harris raised a glass to her, "To finding romance."
She raised her glass to his with a chime, "To becoming something more."
They moved on in their discussion from there, however, the air remained charged with something intangible.
She didn't know what had changed in Harris recently, didn't know why Harry's disappearance into the past had somehow left him happier.
But when he laughed…
The sound was musical to her ears.
Here was a man of hope, a man who believed he could live past the ending of his world.
She could only pray, her heart was just as strong, because more than anything, she wanted a life with this man.
She wanted them to be happy.
AN: I did the big twist so I could reimagine Grindelwald & Newt's stories and because I have depression and I would actually like to write inside of Harris's head at some point without going catatonic.
Thoughts, nifflers, or feedback, pretty, pretty please?