History Repeated

So, I don't own Harry Potter...Damn.

Thanks to those who have followed, favored, and/or review.

1 November 2005

Dudley wondered where the time went as he looked down at the photograph his cousin, Harry, sent him yesterday. The photo wasn't moving, like he had once witnessed when he and Helen visited Harry and his wife's new home years ago. His cousin was hard to miss in the picture, with his messy jet black hair, bright green eyes he inherited from his mother and their grandmother, and that blasted scar on his forehead that symbolized his troubles. Next to Harry was his wife, Ginny, Dudley remembered. Not Jenny, as he initially thought when he first met her at his wedding to Helen. In Harry's arms was a small boy, his hair was messy like his father's but wasn't black or red like his parents but brown. His eyes were bright brown, like his mother's. The boy looked to about a year or two old, at least that was what Dudley thought. The boy had a wide, happy grin on his face as he stared at the camera, holding a stuffed dragon in his arms.

Dudley didn't look up when Helen sat next to him, juggling two cups of tea and a packet of chocolate biscuits, which they recently had to start hiding from their four-year-old son, Callum, who had started demanding more food and saying that it was wrong for his parents to deny him food. Dudley blamed this recent uproar on his own parents, who always coddled his son whenever he was left in their care. Dudley, who had been steadily losing the weight he packed on over the years while living at his parent's home, was rightfully upset at his parents, no his mother's, attempt at giving all the stones he lost to Callum.

"What did their letter say?" Helen questioned, causing Dudley to look up and see that she was sipping her tea slowly.

"Harry's wife is pregnant again," Dudley replied as he looked down again and started to fish for the letter that came along with the photograph. It had come by the normal post a few mornings ago, Dudley figured his cousin thought he would be freaked out by the sudden appearance of an owl showing up in the kitchen window. Helen would be, Dudley knew, before her shock turned to fascination and a lot of questions Dudley didn't know how to answer.

"Is she?" Helen said, sounding surprised but pleased. "Send her and Harry my congratulations, once you write back to them."

Dudley nodded, grabbing a biscuit and throwing it into his mouth. He savored the flavor, knowing it would be a while before he got to indulge is sweets again. Healthy eating, it was absolutely awful but necessary. He didn't want Callum to end up like he did, barely fitting into his school uniform and not caring about his health. He really needed to talk to his parents about boundaries, though he knew they would never listen. Not to him. Not to Helen, either. They disregarded her words completely, which angered Dudley because she was his wife and mattered more to him than his parents as he came to terms with what kind of people they were. What kind of person he had been, what he feared still could fester if he wasn't careful.

That was part of the reason why he reconnected with Harry. Or connected, Dudley had realized when it dawned on him that he and his cousin never had any connections to one another despite living in the same house for sixteen years.

As he dug the letter out from under a bit of paperwork from his job, Dudley's blue eyes scanned the words on the letter and couldn't help but feel...something about it all.

Hey Big D,

Ginny and I are going to have another baby. She's not far along and we haven't told anyone but you yet, so don't go blabbering away about it. How's Helen and Cal? Jimmy's brilliant, makes mine and Gin's day better every time he laughs. We should schedule something soon, let the boys get to know one another. Things here have been strange, work and all. I hope you and your family are okay.

Harry

The letter was a bit strange to Dudley, but he chalked it up to everything going on with his cousin. His new baby and whatever was going on with his work. He imagined that Harry would talk about it more the next time they met up, whenever that would be. It would be awkward, Dudley knew. It always was when something from Harry's world was brought up, but it was intriguing regardless. Helen, especially, found Harry's world enticing. Dudley didn't know why and he never asked, figuring not every non-magical person was like his parents. Another reason for his parent's scorn, Dudley thought as he handed his wife the letter. Helen was odd to Dudley's parents, which made him love her, and they barely tolerate her.

"We should invite them for Christmas," Dudley heard his wife say.

He looked up and saw her staring at him. Her brown hair was pulled back, making her hazel eyes more pronounced.

"What?"

Helen rolled her eyes and repeated what she said.

"I'll ask when I write them back," Dudley promised, wondering if his cousin and his family would agree and come. Dudley and Helen weren't going to his parent's house that year, they were going to spend the holiday in some resort Dudley didn't bother asking about. And Helen's mother would be off on some single's elderly cruise thing that sounded more like a retirement home on a boat to Dudley.

"Your mum stopped by today," Helen said as she grabbed a biscuit. "Thought I'd let her spend the day with Callum with a boatload of sweets in her bag."

"Is this where you got the biscuits from?"

Helen nodded and Dudley chuckled. He watched as his wife picked up the photo of Harry and his family. She looked like she was about to say something when a knock came from the door.

"Who could that be at this hour?" Helen said instead of whatever she originally was going to say.

"I don't know," Dudley admitted as he stood up. He walked to the door, wondering if he should have grabbed something in case he needed to throw it.

Frowning, Dudley opened the door and saw two strangers at the door. One was an elderly woman, she was slightly hunched over with a walking stick keeping her from falling over. She wore strange black clothing, almost something like Dudley would expect from a person in Harry's world. Dudley looked at the other stranger before he could ponder upon the woman's state of dress. The other stranger was younger, around his age, and wearing a jumper and wrinkly trousers, he looked as though he grabbed the nearest clothing off the ground in his haste to get to where he needed to be. Though, that wasn't the strangest thing about the man. The sleeping toddler in his arms was.

The boy was wrapped up in a handmade quilt, but his head could easily be seen. His brown hair was messy and he looked so much like Harry's son that Dudley felt something drop into a pit in his stomach.

His skin felt clammy as his eyes went from the boy to the two strangers in possession of him.

"I am terribly sorry to disturb you, Mr. Dursley," the old woman said, her tone was professional but her eyes screamed of grief. "My name is Minerva McGonagall and this is Neville Longbottom," She motioned towards the man holding the little boy. "May we come in? It's about Harry and Ginny Potter."

Dudley, in that instant, wondered if this was what happened when Harry has left on his parent's doorsteps all those years ago. Today, twenty-four years ago, Dudley realized with horror as he silently let the two strangers into his home with his cousin's son.

McGonagall watched as Dudley's wife, Helen, brought in more tea. Her face was wide and pale but the rest of her skinny. She could be plain-looking to most but had an acquired beauty to her. Dudley, in particular, had changed since she last saw him twenty-four years ago to the day. Then again, he was only a year old at that point.

"How long ago did it happen?" McGonagall heard Harry's muggle cousin question. Her eyes moved from Dudley's wife to the man himself. His right knee was going up and down and his face was even paler than his wife's.

"Roughly before midnight," Neville answered. He still had little James Potter in his arms, sleeping peacefully in the professor's arms with his quilt shielding him away from the cold. "I discovered them when I went to grab something I left."

"Bloody Hell," Dudley said as he looked away from McGonagall and Neville to his sock-covered feet. "And yesterday was their son's birthday, you say?"

"Yes," McGonagall answered, forcing the word out.

"And the day his parents died."

"The very same," McGonagall said, knowing Dudley wasn't asking a question.

"Was it the same bloke who...You know," Dudley said as he looked up at McGonagall and motioned toward his forehead.

"No," McGonagall said. "He's long dead."

That didn't seem to comfort Harry's cousin. If anything, he looked more troubled to McGonagall, not that she blamed him.

"Have you got any idea who did it then?"

"No," Neville admitted. He glanced at McGonagall, who carefully eyed him and she watched as his face became more guarded in understanding.

Neville looked back at Dudley and Helen Dursley. "It's not safe for James to be in our world."

"Not even with his mother's family?" Helen questioned, looking as confused as her husband. She didn't sound angered by this, the young woman seemed much kinder than Petunia Dursley to McGonagall.

"Especially them," McGonagall said, frowning. "For whatever reason, the wi-the murderer left James alive and we don't know why."

"He doesn't have a scar-like his father, does he?" Dudley questioned, looking particularly disturbed at the thought. McGonagall wondered how much, if any, information Harry had told his cousin. He seemed to know enough, given the look and question he had.

"No," Neville said as he looked down at the sleeping Potter boy. "He's scar-free."

Dudley nodded, though he still looked shaken up. McGonagall couldn't blame him. History was repeating itself all over again, though with several differences that disturbed her.

"You want us to take him in, don't you?" Dudley questioned both McGonagall and Neville. "Keep him safe from your world."

"Only until it's safe for him to return," McGonagall promised.

"And how long would that be?" Helen questioned, causing McGonagall to look at her. "I mean, how long will it be until it's safe for him to see his other family? They'll be worried sick about him, won't they? And what about your magic school? Will he still be with us when he goes to it?"

"I don't know, Mrs. Dursley," McGonagall admitted. "All I know is that there's a little boy who needs all the protection he can get. Unfortunately, we can't give it to him but you and your husband can. Our world is unsafe for us and it appears to be only in its early stages, yours has yet to be touched by what has been happening."

A look of horror crossed Dudley's face. "Will it even be safe to send him to your school when the time comes? If what your saying is true, things are only going to get worse in your world. Will James be safe then?"

McGonagall sighed and decided against sugarcoating things. "We will have to cross that territory in the upcoming years, Mr. Dursley. Does this mean you will take James in?"

Dudley frowned and looked a bit offended by the question. "He's my family," He said. "The last I got of Harry and his wife. I'm not going to let him suffer and live in fear for his life. I'll take him in as long as he needs protection, long after that too. I'll make sure he's taken care of."

A vast difference from his parents, McGonagall thought as she nodded in Dudley's direction. She was impressed by the young man's words. She hoped he kept his promise, for James' sake.

When she and Neville left, the sun was beginning to show and James Potter was in the arms of his cousin's wife, unaware of the conversation the two wizards and two muggles had.

It didn't take long for word to break out about Harry and Ginny Potter. Hermione Granger, a good six months pregnant with her and Ron's first child, looked at the morning edition of The Daily Prophet.

THE END OF AN ERA: THE-BOY-WHO-LIVED FOUND DEAD

By Rita Skeeter

Twenty-four years ago today, the wizarding world heard the word of the (first) defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, all thanks to Harry James Potter. The-Boy-Who-Lived, the world called him upon learning he survived the Killing Curse and defeated the Dark Lord just moments after the deaths of his parents, Lily (née Evans) and James Potter. Our world celebrated, while our savior grew up not knowing his greatest act of heroism. We watched as he suffered and triumphed against everything thrown at him, murderous professors, killer snakes, and, for a time, we the wizarding population who wrongfully called him deranged. In May of 1998, his suffering came to the end with his second defeat of You-Know-Who and all seemed well, until now.

Just hours ago, Harry Potter was found dead along with his wife of four years, Ginevra Molly Potter née Weasley. Their son, two-year-old James Sirius Potter, has not been accounted for, despite the Ministry's best efforts. Has his parent's murderer taken him? Why were the Potters targeted, of all days no less? Do their deaths have-

Hermione looked up from the front-page article, pressing her hands against her lips as she let out a strangled cry. She shook her head as she removed her hands from her mouth. "Ron! Ronald Weasley, get down here! It's Harry and Ginny!" she cried out through her grief and tears.

When she heard a loud banging noise, she rose with slight difficulty and hurried up the stairs of her two-story home. She wondered if he had somehow received a copy of The Daily Prophet, it wouldn't surprise her. The owl had refused her payment this morning, they must be going out and delivering the news to every witch and wizard in Great Britain.

Harry and Ginny Potter were dead and their son missing.

So, what do you think?

Please, review, like, and/or follow. That would great.

Until next time...

Reviews:

Guest (1): Thanks for the review, and I'm glad you find the story interesting. Yes, it would seem that taking James to Hogwarts would be safer, but McGonagall and Neville believe otherwise.

Guest (2): Thanks for the review. I'm glad you find this story interesting.