Tomorrow Never Came
Chapter 4

'CRACK'

Harry felt cold air wash over him once more, and upon opening his eyes he saw that he was stood in a hilled front garden staring out over a low brick wall and narrow country road at field after field of lush green meadow. He watched as the long spears of grass swayed in the breeze, occasionally flattening out completely when a larger gust washed over them. It was certainly a beautiful vista.

Harry turned around to see Ren walking up a narrow masonry path towards a cosy looking cottage. Uneven sized stones made up the walls, while vines of honeysuckle snaked up around the front door and draped themselves over the porch, which had been painted a clear sky blue, as had the front door and window frames. The slated roof sunk in the middle ever so slightly, and a chimney poked out of either end of it. The property clearly had a whole wealth of character. Ren climbed the small stone stairwell (which was flanked by bushes of lavender) towards the front door.

"You okay?" She asked him as she reached into her handbag, removing her wand. Harry smiled.

"Yeah," His gaze glanced over the cottage once more. "It's lovely." He complimented, and Ren took a step back in order to join him in admiring the building.

"Thank you. I admit I am rather fond of it." She told him, and with that she gripped her wand, flicked her wrist and Harry heard the metal latch unlock. The hinges creaked loudly as Ren swung the door open before leading the way inside. Harry followed her and found himself stood in an open-plan foyer. He wiped his feet on the welcome mat before he stepped forward onto the vintage rug that covered the stone floor.

Directly opposite Harry was a steep, narrow, twisting stone staircase with a striped runner rug attached to it, and on either side of him were large beamed archways. The one to his right lead to a kitchen which had pale blue cabinets, a fireplace with shelves storing a various array of china and mugs attached to the wall above it and, in the center of the room, a round kitchen table with four chairs tucked underneath it.

To his left was a living room. Once again most of the floor was covered by another vintage rug and the wall directly opposite him was taken up by an additional fireplace, but this one was tall enough to be used as a floo network. Before the fireplace was a fawn coloured sofa covered in cushions with two mismatched plush armchairs sat parallel to it. A large dusty blue velvet futon occupied the space between them, just before the hearth. Various cabinets which housed a sundry of accessories and trinkets were dotted around the room and the stone walls, which housed a magnitude of photographs and paintings, were all painted a warm cream that complimented the wooden ceiling beams.

Ren had cast her wand in the direction of the living room, and no sooner had she done so a toasty fire roared into life behind the grate of the fireplace. Harry pushed the front door closed behind him as Ren moved on to unwrapping the cape from around her shoulders, revealing a black turtleneck jumper tucked into her high-waisted jeans. She hung the fabric on one of the already full hooks that were suspended on the wall by the front door, placed her handbag on a small table beside said hooks and then made her way into the kitchen, heeled boots clicking against the floor which remained uncovered from the rug.

Harry stood in the entranceway, watching as she lit the kitchen fire in the same manner as the living room one, before letting out a satisfied sigh and turning back to face him. "So, I'll put the stew on then we can have a root around and find these photo albums. How does that sound?" Ren asked him.

"Like a plan, if you ask me." Harry replied.

He thoroughly enjoyed the next few hours. The stew, while not a hugely complex dish, was hearty and filling. When they had finished eating Harry took a seat on one of the plush sofas while Ren disappeared up the stone staircase, returning a few minutes later with her arms laden with multiple photo albums.

They sat side by side, each with a bottle of Butterbeer in hand and Harry with one of the albums open in his lap, studying the pages with great interest. Neither of them talked much. Occasionally Ren would explain the context of one of the portraits, but other than that all that could be heard was the chosen record Ren had put on. The soulful voice of Al Green poured out of the record player beside the fireplace, surrounding their thoughts and memories.

Harry found it very surreal. This was without a doubt the most access he had ever had to his parents. He was seeing them live their lives, blissfully unaware of their tragic future.

By early evening they had finished the albums, but Harry was more than happy to go through them all again. There were several photographs that he was particularly fond of.

One showed James sat on Lily's lap in a busy looking pub, laughing at the distressed look on the redheads' face as she suffered under his weight. One of James and Remus in a poky little kitchen supporting a drunk looking Sirius. One of a very pregnant Lily and Ren cuddled up and fast asleep in a cosy bed. One of the entire group, all dressed up as the cast of a musical called 'The Rocky Horror Show', Ren explained. James as Brad, Lily as Janet, Ren as Magenta, Sirius as Riff Raff, Remus as Doctor Scott and Peter Pettigrew as Eddie. ("Sirius and James wouldn't stop arguing over who got to be the transvestite Doctor Frank 'N' Furter so in the end neither of them could be. It was only fair." Ren had told him).

There was one Wizarding photograph that, despite not featuring either of his parents, warmed Harrys heart very much. It was a shot of Sirius and Ren. He recognised them being at his parents wedding, sat at a table, just simply gazing into each other's eyes with the upmost love and tenderness, both blissfully unaware that someone had snapped their picture.

As Harry studied the imagine Ren had got up and made her way into the kitchen, mumbling something about tidying up, but Harry had been unable to draw his attention away from the photograph. He was almost hypnotised by it. He had never seen Sirius look so soft, so tranquil. It suited him.

However a sudden, harsh "meow" succeeded in jolting Harry from his trance. He jumped, eyes darting away from the album only to land on a cat sat on the futon before him. Its fur was white with dusty grey spots here and there, and its eyes, which were boring into Harrys, were a bright blue. It looked both very old and very stubborn, with that spindly appearance and sunken mouth that all old felines seemed to take on.

It let out another croaky meow just as Ren sauntered back into the room.

"Oh, this is Maia." She explained simply as she retook her seat next to Harry. The cat quickly jumped into Ren's lap the moment the woman was settled and began purring when Ren started tickling behind her ears. "She was actually a gift from Sirius."

"Bloody hell, how old is she?" Harry couldn't help but ask as he tentatively reaching out a hand, allowing the cat to have a sniff and assess for herself whether she wanted a fuss from him. It turns out she did and lowered her head for Harry to stroke.

"She's twenty-two I think. Half Kneazle, you see."

"Wow," Harry murmured, distinctly reminded of Hermione's cat Crookshanks.

"Yeah I know. But-" Ren covered the cat's ears with her hands. "-I have a feeling she won't last the rest of the year." She added in a whisper before uncovering the cat's ears. Maia gave her a suspicious look, almost as if she knew she was the topic of conversation.

It was then that Harry's gaze fell over Ren's shoulder and happened to land on the clock which was hanging upon a wall in the kitchen. He couldn't help but do a doubletake when he registered the time.

"Merlin, we've been here for hours!" He mused in shock, checking his own watch for confirmation. "I can't believe the times gone so quickly." Ren let out a chuckle at his disbelief.

"Well we've had a lot to catch up on." She said, and Harry nodded in agreement.

"That's putting it lightly. I should probably make a move." He said, rising from the sofa. Ren followed his lead and the two of them sauntered back over to the front door.

"Thank you for today Harry. For finding me. I'm sorry it wasn't the other way around." The woman said when they stopped and faced each other before the door. Harry could see that she was still awash with guilt, so he smiled at her in a way he hoped was reassuring.

"Ren it's okay. Whatever happened in the past can be left there. All that matters now is the future." At Harrys words Ren looked as if she was ready to burst into tears, but in response she simply reached forward and enveloped her Godson in a tight hug. He sunk into the warmth of her embrace, allowing the softness to wash over him as he wrapped his arms around her in return. Harry caught a soothing whiff of vanilla and felt immediately relaxed by Ren's scent. So much unspoken emotion passed between them, and when they pulled away Harry saw that Ren's eyes were indeed glistening with tears.

"Thank you." She murmured, and Harry shrugged.

"Would… would you want to meet up again soon?" He asked. The amount of nerves racing through his body surpassed even the terrifying moment when he had blurted out his Yule Ball proposal to Cho Chang. Merlin help him.

However when Ren simply gave him a bemused look as she blinked away her tears Harry suddenly realised he had nothing to be worried about.

"Love, if you were under the impression that this was a one time meeting you were sorely mistaken. I've got eighteen years' worth of absence to make up for so get ready for the overbearing Godmother you missed out on, because she's coming at you faster than a Firebolt!" Harry snorted at Ren's response.

"Oh Merlin, should I be worried?" He asked.

"Most definitely."


The moment the latch clicked shut after the Boy Who Lived, Ren let out a shaky breath and braced herself against the door, forehead pressed up against the cool wood.

God only knew that Ren had not seen the first day of her new job ending like this. She couldn't believe it. Harry, the beautiful Godson she had loved so fiercely but allowed to slip through her fingers anyway, had found her.

The amount of shame Ren still felt over the fact that it had been him who had reached out to her was substantial. She had regretted making that vow to Dumbledore the moment it had left her lips all those years ago. What kind of person knowingly left their Godson, their orphaned Godson, in the care of those neglectful Muggles?!

Ren had long ago lost count of the amount of nights she had drowned her sorrows and regrets in Firewhisky, trying her best to forget the fact that she had failed Lily and James. To this day she still wished that it had been her the Dark Lord had murdered, if it meant the sparing of the Potters.

Slowly Ren slid down the wooden frame until she was hunched in a low crouch, her head in her hands as tears began to slide down her cheeks. She was a coward. She had long since accepted that. Ren would always insist that the Sorting Hat had made a mistake placing her in Gryffindor.

She wasn't brave. A brave person wouldn't have left Harry in the care of those disgusting Dursleys. A brave person wouldn't have run away and abandoned poor Remus, when all they had left was each other. A brave person wouldn't be sat sobbing like a child on the floor.

No, Ren Gallagher was many things, but she knew that brave was not one of them. And she loathed herself for it.

"REN?" A voice suddenly shouted from the living room, and the woman in question raised her face from her palms to see the head of her dear friend, Loren Mitchell, roar into life from the flames in the hearth of the fire.

"Shit," Ren muttered, quickly attempting to dry her eyes. She had completely forgotten she had agreed to go over to Loren's for supper so that she could spill all the gossip about her new job.

"REN I KNOW YOU'RE THERE! YOU BETTER HAVE A GOOD REASON FOR SO RUDELY STANDING ME AND THE BOYS UP!" Loren was clamouring as Ren scrambled up, turning quickly to the mirror in the hall to see if her face was terribly blotchy or not. Turns out it was.

"Wonderful." Ren said through gritted teeth. Oh well. Loren would figure out something was wrong the moment she clapped eyes on Ren anyway. She had always been able to read her like a book.

The pair had met during Ren's year at Hogwarts. Loren (who was then known as Doctor Loren Jenkinson) had been on a placement year as a councillor of sorts and Ren and herself had simply hit it off. Loren was, to put it frankly, an oddball Muggleborn Witch with a tendency for inappropriate comments and a love for cake, but she was also immensely compassionate, which is what had made her so good at her job.

Ren knew for a fact that Professor Dumbledore had offered her a permanent role at the school, but the councillor had fallen in love with the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor at the time, Professor Leroy Mitchell, and instead of remaining at Hogwarts the pair had spent the next five years travelling around different regions of Africa, helping to build secure settlements and ward off any dark creatures.

Now the Mitchells were settled in the same village as Ren with their two sons. Ten year old Joshua and seven year old Rio. Leroy had been offered his old post back at Hogwarts by Professor McGonagall and Loren was quite happy as a stay at home Mother.

"IF YOU DON'T ANSWER ME SO HELP ME GOD I WILL COME THROUGH THIS FIREPLACE AND-"

Thankfully at the moment Ren reached the hearth before Loren could finish her threat and she quickly submerged her head into the flames, welcoming the familiar tingling sensation which tickled her ears.

As predicted the moment Loren saw Ren's face her expression changed from annoyance to concern. "What happened?" She asked in a low voice, which made Ren suspect that Joshua and Rio were nearby, and she didn't want to give away that Aunty Ren was upset. The woman in question couldn't help but choke up all over again.

"Harry." Was all she could breath out, but she needn't have said anything more.

"I'll be over in a second with wine and cake." Loren declared before backing out of the fireplace.

Ren did the same and grabbed her wand, summoning two wine glasses from the kitchen. No sooner had they flew into her hands then the fireplace roared into great green flames with a 'WHOOSH' and Loren stepped out with a chilled bottle of white wine in one hand and a plate containing a small chocolate cake in the other.

The older Witch flicked her midnight coloured hair over her shoulder as her green eyes fixed upon Ren's brown ones.

"How much time do you have?" Ren asked, understanding that Loren would likely have to get back to her family before long.

"Oh girl," Loren smirked in return. "I told Lee it's a Code Red situation, so we've got all night. Now spill."


The low embers of the fire glowed ominously, bouncing off the antique furniture and casting eerie shadows over the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place. It was an hour or two past midnight, Sirius wasn't sure exactly. The only thing the Animagus was conscious of was the bottle of Firewhisky sat on the wooden table before him, and the weathered Wizarding photograph of a certain Witch in bed clutched in his hand.

His stormy grey gaze had been fixated on the photo for Merlin only knows how long. By now every detail was committed to his memory. From the way each individual chocolate curl spiralled around another to the exact positioning of the dainty hand grasping the snow white cover to her bare chest.

And he could recall the details that the photograph didn't show. Like the sound of her laugh, so pure and clear against whatever record they had had playing in the background. The feeling of her skin against his when he had thrown the camera to the side and claimed her body as his own. The way his heart swelled when she had whispered her love for him as they lay tangled together. And her sweet vanilla scent which Sirius found more intoxicating and addictive than any drug.

The man found himself clenching his jaw and pressing his eyes shut in frustration. How was it possible that these memories, which had undoubtedly been some of the happiest of his life, could bring him so much pain now?

'Because Ren isn't here.' The answer flashed through his mind before he could stop it, and Sirius winced as if he had been struck around the face. Reaching for the tumbler full of amber liquid before him Sirius raised it to his lips and let the entire contents trickle down his throat in one long gulp.

"Merlin help me." He muttered to himself. He had successfully managed to repress all thoughts of Ren since his escape from Azkaban, instead choosing to focus his attention on Harry. But when he had walked in on Harry holding the box which contained his last connections to Ren, Sirius didn't know how to deal with it. They were two parts of his life which he had made the effort to keep separate for his own selfish reasons.

He knew that Harry deserved to know about his Godmother, which is why he had put up no resistance when it came to explaining who the woman was, but fucking hell it had not been easy. He couldn't help but wonder what Harry would do with this new information. Anyone who knew the boy would be well aware that he wouldn't just let it go.

Before Sirius could ponder the matter any further the fireplace burst into green flames and out stepped one half of the dynamic duo that were the Weasley twins. At a glance Sirius couldn't tell which one. The twins had been staying at Grimmauld Place for the past few days after a… minor explosion from a Weasley Wizard Wheezes prototype had left both the joke shop and the flat above it uninhabitable for a week or so while it was quarantined.

Fred and George hadn't exactly been eager to stay at the Burrow where their Mother would undoubtedly lecture them until the Hippogriffs came home about how dangerous and reckless they were, so Sirius had offered them his home instead and the twins had been enjoying their unexpected time off work ever since.

"Alright Sirius? Thought you were staying at that Taylor birds place tonight?" The redhead asked as the fireplace once again lit up and twin number two stepped out. Ah, one ear. That was George. So it was Fred that had spoken.

'That Taylor bird' Fred had referred to was a young, up and coming singer in the Wizarding World by the name of Taylor Tindell who had been, what the tabloids called, Sirius' 'on again off again flavour'. The nature of his and Taylor's relation had never been anything particularly serious (in his opinion anyway). Just a few dates here and a couple of shags there whenever either of them were feeling horny and lonely.

They would drift apart due to Taylors work commitments or because another attractive young lady would catch Sirius' eye, but then end up bumping into each other at a party or a club and reuniting. This, in the eyes of the media, made them soulmates who were always fated to come back to one another. Sirius thought it was all a load of bullshit really. Taylor was currently in Ireland performing a few gigs, so they were in their 'off' stage at the moment.

"That's done with for now mate." Sirius mumbled as he refilled his glass. "Either of you having a drink?" He went on to ask the twins, and by way of reply George retrieved two more tumblers from a cabinet and slid them down the table to Sirius, who poured a generous amount of whisky into each one. Fred and George sat down opposite him and both took hold of a glass.

"So why are we drowning our sorrows?" George asked.

"Yeah, to what are we toasting?" Fred added, and Sirius huffed in amusement. He had always admired the way the twins didn't beat around the bush.

"Nothing special." He sighed. "Just make sure you never fall in love lads." He didn't miss the surprised look that passed between the brothers. He didn't blame them for being shocked. If Sirius hadn't already drank nearly an entire bottle of whisky there was no way he'd open up like this.

"Bloody hell Sirius I didn't think you were that into her." Fred mused.

"You could probably still get her back if you wanted. I mean if you've only just called things off she probably hasn't moved on yet." George supplied. Sirius' brow creased in confusion before he realised that they were referring to Taylor.

"Oh Merlin, not her. Not Taylor." He couldn't help but snort. "That's not love. Just a bloody good shag." At his words the twins once again gave each other a bemused glance.

"Then… who?" George asked tentatively, and by way of answer Sirius simply flicked the old photograph across the table towards them. George picked it up and held it up so that they could both admire the girl in it.

"Bloody hell," Fred murmured as George let out a low whistle. Sirius had no doubt that Ren was currently giggling and winking up at them from the film. "Who is she?" Fred went on to ask, focusing his gaze on Sirius. "-or… was she?" He added gently, clearly unsure of how to address the situation, and Sirius didn't blame him. With two Wizarding Wars under his belt it would be easy to assume that she had been killed at the hands of a dark Wizard. Just as so many other people he loved had been.

"She was or is, for all I know, Harry's Godmother." He told them.

Both Fred and Georges' jaws dropped.

"Merlin," Fred uttered in a low voice.

"Does… Does he know?" George questioned, and Sirius nodded.

"He does. But whether she's alive or not I couldn't tell him." He explained. It was unusual to see the jokesters sombre and serious, their brows creased and contemplative. Sirius wouldn't blame them for not knowing how to respond to the situation, but Fred seemed to know exactly what needed to be said, raising his glass.

"To her." He stated, and George quickly followed his brothers lead.

"To her." He echoed.

Sirius studied them, each holding their glass high. It strangely made him feel better. So much so that he slowly raised his own glass.

"To her."

Hi everyone! Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Thank you to all those who've left feedback. Keep it coming!

If you want a visual of what I imagine Ren's cottage to look like I always picture it as the one from the film The Holiday that Kate Winslet's character lived in.

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Eve x