Chapter 9

Albus carefully stepped out from the fireplace and into the deserted living room, readjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. The Burrow. His lips stretched into a wry grin as he leaned against the mantle to catch his breath, drawing his wand from his jeans' back pocket and stared around himself in amusement.

It was like being home again. The battered-looking pieces of furniture, the worn-out wallpaper, the old clock by the ageless leather couch… only the family pictures sitting on the fireplace from which he'd just exited had been updated in his time. In his head, he could almost hear Fred's "I knew this room was a thousand years old!" and see Roxy nod in total agreement. Well, it was sure that the expedition would have been way more fun had the cousins all been there.

The thought brought back the image of James, lying on a stony floor with his head pouring blood, and Al straightened up at once, realizing he had a job to do. Find Kingsley. Convince him never to let Goyle out of Azkaban. And then wait for the complete rewind James had promised him.

He took a few steps towards the kitchen, questions swirling inside his mind. Where would he find the future Minister of Magic? Roaming the Burrow didn't seem like the brightest of ideas at the moment, considering the way he looked and all, but he didn't really have another choice. Turns out, though, he didn't have to choose at all.

A large hand suddenly closed around his wrist, another grabbed his neck and two wands poked him threateningly in the back in perfect synchronisation.

"Drop the wand," a low voice rasped from behind him. Al stopped breathing, his heart drumming wildly in his chest.

"Or would you like us to make you?" another low voice added on his other side and he gulped.

"Wait," he started, gripping his wand harder. "I'm not-"

But he was cut off by the sudden arrival of his mum in front of him. His eyes felt like they were popping out of his head. Ginny was wearing denim shorts, a V-neck sweater, and she looked so much like a red-headed version of his little sister that it took all of Al's will-power not to lose his countenance and let his mouth drop open at the sight of her. Putting one hand on her hip, she pouted at him, or rather at the people holding him from behind.

"Told you he'd come by Floo," one of the men laughed, his wand jabbing Albus' back and making him wince.

"Yeah, yeah," Ginny answered, eyeing Al carefully. Her wand twirled menacingly in her right hand. "Lupin wasn't kidding; look at his eyes. Exactly the same. Wonder how they managed it." Lifting her arm suddenly, she aimed the thin piece of wood straight at Al's chest. "George, go get the others."

He felt one of the men release him and tried to jerk out of the other's hold; the grip on his throat tightened, almost cutting off his air.

"I don't think so," the voice growled in ear. Al sent a desperate look towards his mother, realizing what was going to happen to him all of the sudden.

"Wait," he struggled to speak, "I can explain-"

"His voice too," Ginny cut him off, her eyes blazing, looking madder than he'd ever seen her before; and he knew what would happen to him even before she opened her mouth to say the incantation.

"Mum-"

"Stupefy!" she yelled, and the room spun once before everything went black.

oOo

Al woke up curled on the hard wooden floor and unable to see a bloody thing. He tried not to move and listened to the multitude of voices swirling around him, keeping his eyes shut, still disoriented. Finally, though, annoyed at his inability to associate voices to people, he carefully sat up, feeling the wall near his head and tracing it with his hand to get his bearings. He leaned heavily against it, realizing he'd been carried to some sort of corner (probably in the living room) and raised a hand to his forehead to push black strands of hair back. His fingers met with a thick liquid, and drawing his hand back, he was able to distinguish, despite his blurry vision, that blood was coating his fingers once more. The cuts on his cheek were bleeding again. Sighing, he leaned his head back against the panel, sleepiness weighing him down, and waited for someone to say something, anything, for all the voices had quieted as soon as he'd started stirring.

"Here," an unknown (and yet, it was somewhat familiar and Al felt like he should recognize it) voice said, and his glasses were back in his hand once more.

"Thanks," he muttered, and putting them on, blinked wildly at his surroundings. He was indeed sitting in one of the living room's corners, opposite the fireplace; the couch had been reoriented to face him and it seemed that the entire resistance movement was currently standing above him and watching him curiously. The living room was crowded; all of his Uncles, save for Percy and Charlie, were there; his mum and Aunts Fleur and Hermione as well; his grandparents, Teddy's dad and a woman who must have been Teddy's mum; a younger version of Hagrid… but no Kingsley, and Albus felt his heart sink at the realization.

Shifting his gaze to the person crouching in front of him, Al found himself facing his very young-looking father. His eyes widened as he drank his features in; it's true that he did resemble him quite a bit. And it might sound strange, but the mere sight of his father made Albus feel easier all of the sudden; Harry Potter always made everything better, didn't he? If Al's father were here, then, surely, everything would soon be set right. Al had to force himself to remember, that for the very first time in his life, his dad would be of no help to him. He swallowed, his throat dry. Harry stared back at his son, looking curious despite himself.

"Thanks," Al repeated slowly, straightening his stance against the wall and shifting away from his gaze.

"You're welcome," his dad replied, getting up and moving back towards where Ron, Hermione and Ginny were standing, staring down at Albus defiantly, their arms crossed against their chests.

Feeling uneasy under all of the room's gazes, Al rubbed his forehead tiredly, cursing his brother inwardly. This stupid plan was never going to work. They would never get back home. And he just felt so bloody tired.

Lupin took a step towards him, Al's grandfather coming a bit closer as well. Al stared at the pair of them wearily. How long had it been since he'd last eaten?

"Who are you?" Lupin asked him; Al raised an eyebrow.

"We met earlier today. You know who I am."

"You told me a lie," Lupin barked.

"No, I didn't." Al muttered back, frowning. "Bring back some truth serum if you don't believe me."

"You have obviously found a way to deceive the Veritaserum." Arthur started, his voice softer than Lupin's, but not anywhere near kind either. "We want to know your real identity."

"I told you the truth before."

"Albus Severus Potter!" Lupin shot back, sarcasm coating every word. Al tipped back an imaginary hat.

"At your service."

There were a few minutes of shocked silence. Thinking that perhaps he'd muted them forever, Al closed his eyes, wondering if they'd let him sleep if he were to ask them. He felt like he was sitting on a boat's deck; couldn't anyone else feel the slight rocking of the wooden floor beneath them?

"You called me "mum"," Ginny's voice brought him back to reality. Opening his eyes, he watched her angry expression and hesitated.

"Yes, I did. That was pretty stupid of me. Please don't tell Rose." He murmured before yawning and leaning his head back against the wall. "I'll sleep a bit now, if you don't mind," he whispered drowsily, letting his lids drop. Warm fingers pressed on the inside of his wrist, though he couldn't be sure why. He felt like he was floating. Familiar voices were rising all around him again, enveloping him, making him feel safe. Was he home now?

"I'd love some mushroom soup, granny, thanks," he murmured, the short silence following that simple enough statement puzzling him, but only for a few seconds, before the dark engulfed him once more.

oOo

His fingers clutched the soft, leathery surface he was lying on; with a gasp, he opened his eyes and stared around him in bewilderment. The room he was in was very familiar but somewhat… wrong. And deserted, which was highly unusual. The Burrow was always crowded with a multitude of familiar faces and bright ginger hair… where was everybody?

"James?" he called hesitantly, sitting up on the couch, running a shaky hand in his hair. "Rose? Lils? Anyone?"

At the sound of his voice, his father sprung from a chair that had been facing away from the couch, and Al did a double take at the sight of him. Just like the living room, his dad looked very, very wrong. The creases near his eyes were gone, and his hair was jet-black, no trace of white in it, just like Al and Lily's.

And that's when it all came back to him. He clamped his mouth shut.

His father stared at him silently, scratching the back of his head. Someone entered the room in Al's peripheral vision but his eyes were locked on his father, and he didn't turn to see who it was.

"Mrs Weasley is making you some kind of snack." Harry spoke up slowly. "She said you looked much too skinny to be healthy." Al raised an eyebrow at the name. Since when did his father call anyone "Mrs Weasley"?

"You mean…" Al hesitated. "Molly Weasley?"

Harry looked surprised. "Course. Are there any other Mrs Weasleys?"

You'd be surprised, Al thought to himself, his fingers playing with some loose string on his jacket's sleeve. Harry started to say something else, but he was cut off by Lupin and Al's grandfather as they entered the room, Ginny following behind them slowly. Here we go again, thought Al gloomily, as Lupin sat on a chair facing the couch, but before he could start with the interrogation, Al's grandmother strode in.

"No, certainly not," she called in a clear, loud voice, making everyone in the living room jump.

"Molly," Arthur started, his voice worn-out.

"No, Arthur! You will not ask this poor boy anything before he's had something to eat; I forbid it. Here you go, sweety," she smiled as she hand Al a slice of pumpkin pie, straight from the oven. "Eat up." Al stared at her, utterly bemused.

"Molly," Lupin tried again.

"Back off, Remus, if you know what's good for you. It just so happens that I believe the boy's story, and I am not letting you bully him any longer."

"Mum," Ginny spoke up, her eyes blazing. "You can't honestly-"

"Stop right there, young lady-"

"He told Lupin he was here to make sure Harry never kills You-Know-Who! He's a Death Eater, mum! I know you dream of having grandchildren" she spit the word out through gritted teeth, "but this is utterly ridiculous!"

"I'm not here to make sure Voldemort doesn't get killed!" Al shouted over his grandmother's comeback.

"And yet you said this under Veritaserum influence," Lupin narrowed his eyes at him.

"And I also told you my real name, although you refuse to believe that particular part!"

"Because it's completely puzzling!" Ginny yelled at him. "You can't be Harry's offspring and try to protect You-Know-Who! It doesn't make any sense! So you must be a Death Eater sent here to destroy our future; it's the only possible explanation!"

"How about we just let him explain?" Harry said suddenly, stopping the others from charging at him again. His expression was curious, and, along with Molly, he was the only one in the room who wasn't staring at Al in guarded suspicion. "Albus, is it?"

Al nodded mutely. Harry made a small gesture with his hand, as if telling him to proceed. Al hesitated, but James' words came back to him, and he realized that everything he was to say here would be forgotten anyway, as soon as he convinced Kingsley never to let Goyle out of Azkaban. Fred and George, Ron and Hermione suddenly appeared in the room as well. He took a deep breath, trying not to let the extra audience frazzle him, and wondered where the hell he was supposed to start with the story of his life. He decided to make it short.

"Ok, here we go." He started slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on his shoes for the duration of the whole speech. "My name's Al and I'm in my sixth year at Hogwarts. Oh, and by the way, this is the year 2022. One night, this guy, Gregory Goyle, is released from Azkaban because people realize he's regretting his past actions. A couple of days later, my friend Scorpius tells Rose and I that his father has arranged for him to meet with Goyle in the clock tower around midnight; only the guy talks like he's off his rocker and keeps saying that he has a grand plan to bring Voldemort back. Scorp is scared to go alone, so me and Rose go with him; Goyle, who doesn't know the two of us are here because we're hiding under my dad's cloak, tells Scorpius to save Voldemort and throws a time turner at our feet, yelling some sort of spell. The three of us wake up in the clock tower in June 1997, we go to McGonagall for help to get back to our own time, and I guess Lupin's told you the rest."

"You told me," Lupin said, his voice low, "that you had be sent here to make sure Voldemort is never defeated. You said this under Veritaserum!"

"And it's the truth, isn't it?" Al shot back, exasperated. "I never said it was what the three of us intended to do, though!"

"You do realize how far-fetched this is, right?" one of the twins said, sceptical.

"Plus, you stunned McGonagall and Remus right after saying it, didn't you? Doesn't that prove you're guilty?" the other added.

"Rose and Scorp panicked when I told you that," Al replied, locking eyes with Lupin. "They stunned you, apparently because you looked just about ready to stun them. I don't deny that it was probably the stupidest thing these two nerds have ever done, but you've got to admit that it was sort of justified…"

"Who's Rose?" Hermione suddenly asked. "You keep talking about her."

"Oh," Al made a real effort not to roll his eyes at the totally clueless and soon-to-be couple. "She's my cousin."

"So what happened after that?" Ron asked, looking curious. He met Ginny's gaze and quickly added: "Not that I believe you or anything."

Al sighed. "We went to hide into a broom closet to figure out how to get home without altering the future – because, believe it or not, we don't actually want Voldemort to survive. I mean, taking into account my family tree, it would make my chances of ever existing pretty thin, wouldn't you agree?" When nobody did, he went on: "The best plan we came up with was to go to Snape for help. I mean, Rose was all for coming here and telling you everything, but seeing the friendly reception that I came face to face with, I'm glad we didn't listen to her then. However, while going to Snape's office, we met up with James, and by the way, I still haven't got the slightest idea as to how he managed to come here as well. The Carrows were chasing him, he got hurt, told me I had to come here to solve everything by convincing you never to let Goyle get released from Azkaban. He said that, this way, everything that had happened because of this git would be deleted, and that the four of us would never have come here in the first place. Basically, that it would set everything right. So here I am."

"I don't believe you," Ginny snapped.

"Big surprise there," Al shot back in exasperation; looking around himself at the others, however, he realized that it didn't look like many people actually believed his story: everywhere he looked, suspicion was written blankly on every face. His palms started sweating.

"I'm telling you the truth," he whispered. "You have to believe me. Please. It's our only chance at getting back home."

He glanced at his father, who for the first time, was leaning away from him, his expression guarded. His heart sank.

"I am your kid," he told him, and Harry looked startled. "Your second son, actually. Yours too, by the way," he added in Ginny's direction; she scowled at him. "Just ask me anything. I'll prove it."

Harry stayed silent, the rest of them as well.

"Who's James?" Molly finally asked hesitatingly.

oOo

Sorry to anyone who requested more Snape action; I just hadn't planned for the story to go that way at all. Please tell me what you think! Only one more chapter to go….