One Last Chance - Chapter 1
Tuesday 31st July 1979 03:24 – 366 days to go
Harry Potter shivered as he woke up; almost surprised that he did so. Looking around the cave he drew his wand in a flash, knowing that something was wrong, before dropping his wand to his side. He laughed darkly to himself, realising that the cave didn't look wrong after all. It looked perfect.
There were no runes drawn with blood on the black stonewalls, there was no dagger lying on the floor. He was still in his tattered muggle clothing, woozy from blood loss, and his hand throbbing from the wound and his wand in his hand but everything else had changed.
But why should there be runes drawn in blood on the walls when that had never happened, at least not yet and hopefully never again. It had worked. He was in the past, hopefully when he wanted to be but there was no way of telling, at least not until he reached a town and could find a newspaper.
He worked his way out of the cave and looked up at the starry sky, glad it wasn't too light out yet otherwise he'd hurt his eyes. He looked around and saw nothing but hilly, mountainous landscape for as far as the eye could see, which granted wasn't much in the dark. However he knew that it'd take him a day at least to make it to a town on foot.
Harry had been walking for at least an hour, stumbling around in the dark feeling more nauseous than he ever had in his life, before something in his mind suddenly clicked, something that probably should have clicked when he first realised that he was in the past. The muggles weren't hunting them yet; there were no 'Anti-Magic' darts, witch-hunts, and ways to locate magic. None of it had been invented yet. The muggle world was still oblivious.
He was free to use magic.
The thought alone was enough to scare him. He'd lived in daily fear that he'd loose control of his magic and doom Teddy, Luna, and himself to an unbearable death for so long, training to keep everything under control that he was almost shaking at the thought of doing it even when there was no danger.
His hand shook as he lifted his wand into the air so badly that it almost fell out of his hand. "Lumos." He said firmly. The glow that lit up the end of the wand tip illuminated everything close to him, enabling to him to walk properly but instead he sat down and waited.
The longer he continued his display of magic the more antsy he became. Even though he knew they wouldn't come, he couldn't help but watching the shadows for one of the men in the special branch of the military to come for him.
When dawn came it began to break the feeling that somebody was going to come for him began to go away, leaving only the joy of being able to use magic again. He felt like he had found out about magic for the very first time again. Without magic, he had been nothing, Luna had been nothing, and even Teddy had been nothing. It was unforgivable what had happened and he would do everything in his power to prevent it happening again.
Feeling the joy of being free to use magic he cast a tempus charm and the date appeared before him. Tuesday 31st July 1979. He had done it. Now he just had to do the hard part. He had no money, nobody that he could trust, and an identity that he couldn't use.
He glanced down at the curse rune on his hand. It was a deep purple, so dark it was almost black, and every now and again a dark purple glow would emanate from it. It was sickening just to look at, tainted by dark magic. If anybody saw it then they would question him. It was dark, the type of magic Voldemort would use.
Getting used to using magic again, he transfigured his tattered clothes into something new. It was muggle clothing, seeing how he still feared the thought of walking around in public looking the part of a wizard. They were plain and not particularly pretty but it felt nice to wear something halfway decent again. He also transfigured his shoes into something more durable and a pebble into a glove he could wear on his left hand long enough to get the real thing that wouldn't revert back into a pebble after a couple of days.
He smiled at the tingle flowing through his fingers at the magic use. He hadn't realised how much he had missed the feeling, although he still reluctant to do anymore than was necessary. He'd apparate and that was it.
Closing his eyes he concentrated on a back alley in Bristol that he was familiar with and silently disapparated. He checked around himself to make sure no muggle had seen, not wanting to start off the events he was trying to prevent by revealing magic to the world.
He left the alley and looked around the street he had found himself in. It was nothing like the boarded up place with a couple of half demolished buildings that he, Luna, and a young Teddy had passed through. The buildings were clean enough compared to the amount of graffiti on them the last time that he had seen them and were only a decade or so old and at the very end there was a blue and white sign that simply said 'Al's'.
Big Al had been one of the few muggles to help hide the wizards during the war of the worlds. He had opened up a second property to the homeless many years before and allowed the wizards and witches to hide out there.
They had spent three months there, bonding with other magical refugees, before by a stroke of luck they had been taking Teddy out to the park when the military MSAD (Magic search and destroy) unit received a tip off about the hideout.
Later that day he and Luna had stood in the crowd and averted their gazes and the citizens of Bristol broke down the door of Big Al's door and dragged him onto the street before they proceeded to pelt him with stones and lynch him. There was nothing they could do and Harry wasn't going to risk his family because it was the honourable thing to do to speak out. He had a duty to Luna and Teddy first.
Harry shook his thoughts before he went further down memory lane and walked straight into Al's. There were camp beds all across the room with thin blankets and worn out pillows and in the corner there was a box where you could get a change of clothes and a couple of slices of bread and ham. It wasn't glamorous in the least but it was more than he was used to and Big Al did it all out of his own pocket. The man was a modern day saint.
A couple of the homeless nodded to him as he entered, which he happily returned, emphasising with their situation. Harry grabbed a pair of jeans which would fit as well as a t-shirt and, while they weren't much, they were clean and weren't in too bad a condition.
After he changed, unfortunately with nowhere private, he chucked his old clothes in a box, where out of the eyes of the muggles they reverted back into the tattered clothes they were before the transfiguration. He grabbed a couple of slices of bread and ham and sat down on a bed that hadn't been taken, shaking his head as the others beckoned him over to the circle where they were having conversation and lay down on uncomfortable bed.
His head was beginning to pound slightly as the secondary consequences of the time travel set in. Not only would he die in a year, though he had been a little sneaky in choosing a leap year meaning he got one more day in than others would have, but the after sickness was setting on.
He slept away the rest of the day in feverish nightmares, knowing that they'd stop soon enough. The book had warned he'd feel ill for a day then he'd need to rest for another day to get his strength back up.
Pain shot through his limbs as they nightmares descended and the curse rune burned painfully but by the early hours of the morning it had begun to recede but shivers still wracked his body until the evening of his second night in the past.
That night, as he lay on the stained mattress of the homeless shelter camp bed, Harry thought over what exactly he planned to accomplish, besides the obvious, and precautions that he needed to take.
First thing first, he couldn't use his name. Part of him was glad that he was finally shedding the title of Harry Potter. It seemed to define him for who he had to be from the moment he had first took his first step into the Leaky Cauldron as he entered the wizarding world for the first time.
He would keep the name 'Harry' because it was highly unlikely anyone would suddenly say, "Oh look. His name is Harry. Perhaps he's related to you James but that must mean he comes from the future!" Highly unlikely indeed.
However, introducing himself as a Potter would draw all kinds of attention that he didn't need, with James Potter wondering where exactly from an unknown relation had suddenly appeared. He could call himself 'Evans' or 'Jameson' but given the right clues and Harry was certain that there were a couple of minds in the Order of the Phoenix that could easily work out who he was, time travel or not.
He mulled over a couple of names, such as 'Thomson', 'Smith', 'Jones', and – for some reason he couldn't quite fathom – 'Elvendork', before deciding that from that point on he would be know as Harry Moon, in honour of Luna. He throat closed up a bit as he remembered his dear friend. He couldn't help but feel responsible for her death.
The second thing he thought of was the Horcruxes. Nagini didn't exist and, if Harry had his way, never would. The Diary was undoubtedly hidden away in Malfoy Manor, while Bellatrix Lestrange would have the Hufflepuff Cup away in Gringotts, whilst the Diadem was safely tucked away in Hogwarts.
Thinking of Dumbledore reminded Harry of the Gaunt Ring, which Harry would have to remove before the old man decided to tempt fate by trying on the cursed ring again in an attempt to see his sister. Harry paused, noting that if things went completely to shot then he could always reveal to Dumbledore that he knew what he saw in the Mirror of Erised and why he feared Grindelwald.
The thought of Dumbledore also reminded Harry of The Locket, which if Harry really was in the correct time, meant that it was still in the caves and Regulus was still alive.
Harry groaned at the complications that came with retrieving each Horcrux. If the Diary really were in Malfoy Manor then it'd be near impossible to get without detection since the place was a giant hive of Deatheater activity.
Managing to break into Gringotts the first time round and stealing the Cup the first time round had been a near miracle and hadn't gone without it being realised what they had done. It needed to be done with no one the wiser if it meant that Voldemort would realise his Horcruxes were being hunted down.
That also meant all the Horcruxes would have to be destroyed at the same time. This Voldemort hadn't spent the last thirteen years – and Harry did see the irony in the number of years – as a spirit and he couldn't count on the man being as disconnected to the Horcruxes as before. If he learnt they were being destroyed then he would make a new one.
The Diadem, while seemingly easy to get, was going to be near impossible. Dumbledore was going to be on high alert and nobody was going to breaking into that school, if he didn't fully have the man's trust then he wasn't going to set foot into the castle that had been his home. If there was one place safer than Gringotts and that was Hogwarts, which was usually a good thing but Harry now found that he had to work against that.
Then there was the Ring. He had no idea what protections were on the Gaunt shack and, while he now knew quite a collection of powerful archaic spells from his travels, walking into that place was a death-trap until he could learn what Voldemort had done to the place.
Then there was the situation that he could in no way ignore and probably the most complicated of all. The Locket. Regulus Black was about to betray Voldemort and die in the process, while Kreacher effectively took the Locket to Grimmauld Place where it was under the eyes of Walburga Black and not really a place that Harry felt like entering.
He couldn't just get the Locket on his own – the potion ensured that - and even if he did find away, he couldn't just let Sirius's wayward but still much loved brother be dragged down into the masses of Inferi.
The problem that Harry was left with was that either way Regulus died and Harry was unable to obtain the Locket or Regulus died and it became highly likely that Voldemort learnt someone was after his Horcruxes. The only choice that Harry was left with to prevent disaster was to help Regulus retrieve the Locket, which opened up a whole new host of problems.
He'd have to explain to Regulus exactly who he was but if he told the world what muggles had done to anything magical in a time like this then they may just side with Voldemort and deliberately go to war with the muggles.
Then there was the fact if he helped Regulus then the two of them would barely be able to fit into the boat so Kreacher couldn't come along with them and so one of them would have to drink the potion and also, if Regulus did survive, then he'd be a wanted man by Voldemort and, as he had been told on many occasions, when that man wanted someone dead they always died.
The fact that he had once needed to breath underwater for an hour had once been called 'potentially problematic' and, going on that scale of understating the problem, there were several alliterations that Harry felt were quite apt, 'seriously screwed' being his favourite.
His task had seemed so much easier in the war torn future.
He looked at the temporary glove to cover his curse rune and the faint throbbing pain came to the forefront of his mind. He knew that the pain would only increase in time as the curse rune spread until he died. It would be a good thing to have Regulus on his side and the more he thought about it the more logical that idea became.
If Regulus knew Harry's reason for being there then not only would he have an accomplice if something went wrong, which was almost a certain with him, he'd have someone to complete the Horcrux hunting and he'd have someone who knew the truth about who he was, someone to share his past with.
Hermione and Ron didn't exist yet, the Remus, Sirius, and others of this timeline didn't know and trust him, Tonks was still a little girl, far from the brave wife of a werewolf who died in one of the first attacks, and Snape, who died protecting those he had no fondness for in the memory of the woman he loved, was still Deatheater and not a loyal spy.
Harry vaguely wondered what would happen to the man in this timeline. Would he remain a deatheater or still become a spy? He sincerely hoped it was the latter, even if the man did have to realise it sooner than originally. Despite the bitterness the man carried, he was a good man.
Harry shifted slightly on the uncomfortable bed as he thought about the parents he had never known. Only, now he had a chance to know them. He wondered what it would be like, meeting the two people he had longed for as long as he could remember and not knowing how to act because to them, he was just another person.
He vaguely wondered if they would be proud of him. There were a great many things he had done in the recent past that he was not proud of but he had done them to protect Luna and Teddy. It hadn't been enough in the end.
Thinking of Lily and James Potter made Harry feel the same anger towards Pettigrew that he always did. The man had betrayed his friends to Voldemort, robbing Harry of his parents, sending Sirius to Azkaban, and depriving Remus of all his friends in one cruel night.
He clenched his teeth angrily. He wouldn't be able to get into the Order if he violently attacked one of their members; one that James, Sirius, and Remus would back up in an instant. It meant Harry was going to have to keep his famed temper around the man.
Thinking of the Order brought up new thoughts. How was he supposed to get in contact with them? They were supposed to be a secret organisation. Where were the headquarters now? What could he do to gain their trust? And what happened if they tried to research into his past and discovered he didn't have one?
He set those thoughts aside. He would deal with them when the time came. For now, all he needed was a plausible background that wasn't so different so he could work around Veriterserum.
Veriterserum was easy to trick if you knew how. If you knew what questions to expect then you could work out answers you could reply with and convince yourself of their truth.
His name Was Harry John Moon, which was true since it was his name in this timeline. He was an orphan whose parents died in Voldemort's first attacks. Which was also true. Even if they died at the end of the first wizarding war they were also the last to die in the man's first attacks.
His aims were to kill Voldemort. He didn't have to use a twisted truth to prove that when under veriterserum. He was also against prejudice and was pro-muggle but believed that there should be tighter laws to keep the two worlds separate.
Harry considered how to explain his schooling, considering it was obvious he wasn't from the Hogwarts of this time frame and he was almost certain that they would have contacts at the other schools like Beauxbatons and Durmstrang who could reveal he never attended there.
Eventually he decided that he was home schooled. Hogwarts had always been like a home to him and since he had learnt there it meant in a way he had been home schooled. He just hoped that not too many details would be asked.
He scowled at the thought of the seemingly harmless, clear liquid that could ruin everything. Veritaserum was the bane of time travellers everywhere.
Apart from a few details about his past (such as the philosopher's stone, a giant basilisk, an Azkaban escapee, the Triwizard Tournament, the Department of Mysteries, Dumbledore's death, the Battle of Hogwarts, the decimation of the Wizarding World, and other events involving people he was soon to meet for the 'first' time) Harry could keep his past the same.
He sighed and shuffled down the lumpy mattress a bit, trying to fall asleep but despite his exhaustion he didn't have feverish dreams that took away the fact he was surrounded by muggles. It made him unnerved, despite the lack of danger in the timeframe he currently belonged to that came from them.
He kept a close watch on them, stiffening at every whispered conversation and every look his way.
He was jumpy, he knew that but he couldn't help it. He forced himself to close his eyes and think of happier things. Tomorrow he'd be in Diagon Alley, surrounded by his own kind for the first time in years.
He thought of the new version of himself that would be born in a year's time. He was going to make sure that that child grew up in safety and surrounded by family and friends. That boy was himself. Giving that boy a chance was his chance.
It wasn't just his chance though. It was Hermione's, Ron's, Sirius's, Remus's, Dumbledore's, The Weasley's, Tonk's, and the entire wizarding world's chance.
Determination filled Harry, allowing him to slip into dreams. He just hoped he wouldn't let them down.
Thursday 2nd August 1979 16:49 – 364 days to go
Apparating to London, Harry took the time as he walked through the streets to take notice of things. The muggles, still oblivious to the wizarding world, walked carefree through the streets. They no longer walked in groups, casting suspicious looks at anything out of the ordinary.
Children played in the streets, laughing happily at the games they played. Watching a particular group squirting each other with water guns in the summer heat, Harry couldn't help but wonder if any of them in his timeline, having long since lost their innocence, had used the real thing against a witch or wizard, killing them without regret.
The streets themselves seemed lighter. The thought of travelling through the city by day was still unusual to Harry, having been on the run so long. It was so odd to see a mother waving off her children for the day instead of keeping them as close to home as possible.
Everything was so innocent that Harry was almost desperate to enter the war torn wizarding world just for some sense of normalcy.
As he reached Charring Cross Road he couldn't help but feel surprise at the amount of people casually passing by despite the fact that he had been expecting it. Last time he had seen the place it looked like a bomb had gone off, people were screaming, and the smell of burning g flesh lingered in the air for weeks as people did their best to avoid the place that housed the entrance to the wizarding world.
He bowed his head respectfully as he walked past the Leaky Cauldron for all the people who had been painfully slaughtered because people like his own aunt and uncle feared magic, because people like them wouldn't rest in peace until anything magic burned.
Upon entering the Leaky Cauldron all conversation, which had been quiet to begin with, stopped. They watched the stranger enter with suspicious eyes, telling Harry what he already knew. They dint trust him.
Harry nodded his head to the barman, poor old Tom who stood his ground to let others escape during the first raid on Diagon Alley, before passing through, hearing conversation start up again behind him. Once out of sight he transfigured his muggle clothing into robes before tapping the bricks on the wall that opened to reveal Diagon Alley.
The man couldn't help but smile at the stores. To see magical items displayed so much in the open warmed his heart as much as it made him want to run and hide before the military turned up and he was taken away.
People walked quickly and quietly around in groups, not stopping to talk to anybody in a way that was reminiscent of just after his fifth year and Voldemort was back in the open. It was a good indication at the state of his world however he needed more than that, he needed to know exactly what was happening and for that he needed a newspaper.
His need for knowledge presented another problem. He had no money and it was impossible to transfigure anything into gold, only the famed alchemist Nicolas Flamel ever succeeded in that. Harry paused for a moment, realising that Nicolas and his wife Perenelle were alive in this timeline.
Despite the fact he had no job, over the last couple of years Harry had picked up a very useful skill, he was a master pick pocket. So much so that on several occasions after a successful haul he had to hold in the 'Eat you heart out, Oliver' comments that annoyed Luna so much. For one so laid back she was not at all a fan of the classics.
Whilst on the run Harry's morals had to bend. It didn't matter where they got their money and food so long as they got what was needed to survive. It was or die. Harry may have turned his back on some of the things he had to do if it weren't for the fact that it didn't only affect him. He had to look after Teddy and Luna too.
Picking his target carefully, Harry chose a wizard whose pouch was hanging on his side without any charms or protections. The man screamed neither wealth nor poverty, just your average wizard. He was the perfect target.
Entering Flourish and Blotts just as the man exited meant that Harry could brush up against the man without attracting even in such a climate. Half a second later and eight galleons lighter the wizard left the shop without a clue.
Harry browsed around the shop for a while before leaving and heading down the alley to a small newsstand, attended by a very twitchy looking wizard, and bought a Daily Prophet for a couple of Knuts, before heading to the Leaky Cauldron and ordering a butterbeer, surprised about how much he missed the drink, and settle down to read.
Skimming through the articles he discovered they were at the turning point of the war, where the light was beginning to become outnumbered and Voldemort, who was already being referred to as You-Know-Who, was rapidly gaining power. The missing persons page was just as extensive as the lists of the dead.
Theodore Spitwick was the acting Minister of Magic and was under fire from the public for not acting sooner against Voldemort and Harry knew that in less than a year Bagnold would have taken the man's position.
Harry folded up the newspaper and decided that he had enough money left over to get several sets of robes that he could wear. His transfigured clothing wouldn't last long and he didn't exactly know any wizard homes that hung washing up outside where pieces were easily taken.
He and Luna often made what they had dubbed 'washing line swipes' to have a pair of clothes each that wouldn't look too suspicious.
Heading to Madame Maxine's Robes for All Occasions, Harry was surprised to see in its place an old shop that has been boarded up with the words 'Grumpkin's fiction' and it took the man a moment to realise that Malkin had probably never opened her shop yet and had to walk around to find another robe shop.
A middle-aged witch sat nervously behind the counter, glancing around as if she wasn't being paid enough to work somewhere as dangerous as Diagon Alley in the war and Harry found he didn't envy her. During the time on the run he had discovered that it was the waiting that was worst, knowing that being found was inevitable in his eyes, all that was left undecided was the when.
Picking up several robes from the second hand rack, mostly in black and forest green, Harry handed them over to the witch. She tapped each with her wand, presumably removing security charms.
"That'll be five galleons, two Knuts, sir," she said putting g his purchases into a bag.
"Thanks." He paused, slightly as he handed over the coins. "You don't happen to have any gloves do you?"
"Over there. I'll hold your purchases for you."
"Thanks."
Scanning over the merchandise he selected a simple glove for his left hand that was fingerless for manoeuvrability and also had holster like straps on the inside for his wand that meant, once the glove recognised his magical signature, which would take two days in which it would be impossible to remove, nobody else would be able to summon his wand and would have to physically remove it.
It would cost him the rest of the money but in the end it would be worth it.
The witch removed the security charms and Harry turned away so that she could see his curse rune as he removed his transfigured glove and put the new one on.
She handed him his previously purchased robes just as a large boom echoed through the alley. The waiting was over.
Then woman screamed and ducked behind her counter, whilst Harry pulled the wand from the holster part of the glove he had just moved it to and shrank his purchases, placing them in his back pocket, and, standing back pressed against the wall, peered out the shop door and cursed silently.
There were at least thirty Deatheaters attacking the alley and Harry watched for a moment to get a good judge on the situation and deemed it bad immediately as the masked men set off a couple of killing curses before splitting up to spread the attack on the alley.
The Dark Mark glowed an eerie green in the sky, proving at least on death had already ocurred.
Harry closed his eyes tightly, trying to decide the best course of action. If he got himself killed because of his 'saving people thing' then the future was screwed but he also knew he couldn't sit back and not do anything.
He groaned. Why was it that he had to do the right thing all the time? He slipped out of the shop and hit a couple of deatheaters in the back with an over powered stunner, gaining the attention of the rest in the area,
He ducked behind a street stand that had long since been abandoned and, quite inappropriately mused about how even after years of not using magic he seemed in good form. In fact he couldn't help but feel the welcomed fire in his veins now that he was no longer rejecting his magic. It was wrong, but he missed duelling like this. Magic against magic. Order member against Deatheater.
He had missed duelling altogether: the rush of blood, the excitement, and the fear, all of it. He was born into a war, made the heart of it, and lived through it. He was meant for the fight.
"Confringo," he shouted, ignoring the cries of the deatheaters as their robes exploded in flames. Harry ducked away to where five death eaters were torturing a pair of young children.
"Incarcerus. Expelliarmus. Levicorpus. Stupefy. Waddiwasi." The spells were fired in such quick succession that alol the deatheaters were out before they realised they were under attack. Picking up their wands Harry made his way to the young children who were shaking badly, clinging to each other like their lives depended on it, and tears running down their faces.
"I'm Harry. Where are your parents?"
The oldest, a boy about nine, was the one to reply. "Aunty Sarah took us out but the green light hit her."
Harry swallowed. He didn't need to ask to know that the green light had been the killing curse. "What are your names?"
"I'm Tommy and this is Sophie."
"Okay Tommy, do you know what a portkey is?"
The boy nodded. "Good. Okay, I need both of you to be really brave okay. I'm going to send you to the Ministry and you need to tell them what's happening. They'll find your parents for you after that. Understood?"
He nodded again. "Good boy."
He picked up a piece of debris and said the needed incantation and handed it to the children who both touched it. "Look after your sister."
Tommy nodded before he and Sophie vanished and Harry rejoined the fight.
He soon found himself locked in battle against three deatheaters who weren't the new recruits who lacked in skill he'd been against before. He could vaguely recognise the voice pf one of the men, which wasn't exactly good news, especially when considering the amount of duels he had been in with Voldemort's inner circle.
He ducked as a particularly nasty looking jet of light came his way and then again as the killing curse was fired and now that the original adrenaline was running out he was beginning to tire.
He sent a couple of stunners and winced as a vicious cutting curse caught him across the face and blood trickled down off his right brow and into his eye, blinding him slightly. The incantation was slightly modified and Harry knew it was going to scar, yet another to add to the collection that he owned.
He evaded the next curse with more vigour and smiled as the pops of apparition sounded around the alley. Most were aurors but several looked like civilians but Harry knew from a familiar voice that belonged to a man whose name was on the tip of his tongue that they were Order members.
"Levicorpus," he shouted, resulting in the deatheater hanging upside down by his ankle and knocking his friend over long enough to be disarmed, whilst the third was left in surprise as Harry banished the mask that hid his identity.
He stared in shock at the young Barty Crouch junior. He honestly hadn't expected to run into him so soon.
Realising that his identity had been revealed, Crouch hit Harry with a sickly, purplish coloured curse in the centre of the chest before apparating away. Harry collapsed to his knees as overwhelming pain spread through him, retching slightly before collapsing.
He felt the world going dark around him, barely aware of the callused hands pulling his face upwards and checking him.
Thursday 2nd August 1979 23:11 – 364 days to go
"Are you completely insane?" demanded a dark haired wizard furiously as he glared at his long-time friend, a light brown haired wizard with several scars across various points of his body who was standing across the room. "I mean, seriously – and don't you dare say anything Sirius – what on earth possessed you?"
"That curse would have killed him James."
"Then you hound have taken him to St Mungos," the third man in the room, Sirius, said with almost as much anger as James.
"You know he wouldn't have been seen in time. He barely made it with Poppy's help as it is!"
"You let an unknown man into headquarters Remus. He could have killed anyone."
"Not with the after affects of that curse."
"What if he's a deatheater?" demanded Sirius. "He could lead Voldemort straight here. What if he had tracking charms on him?"
"He didn't though," protested Remus.
"You couldn't have known that at the time."
"He was dying. I couldn't leave him. Besides he took out several deatheaters for us before we arrived."
"It could have been a trap," exclaimed James, hazel eyes blazing, "It could have all been a scheme to find headquarters."
"You're being as paranoid as Moody."
"It's called being realistic."
Remus grit his teeth in frustration before the tenseness melted out of his body. "Look, I'm sorry. I panicked. There was a man who seemed to be an ally that was dying and I did the first thing I could think of. I won't portkey anymore 'unknowns' into headquarters."
James and Sirius relaxed as well, looking slightly sheepish for shouting at their friend. "Sorry for shouting, mate. I just worried. I mean Lily spends half her time here and if something were to happen to her …" he trailed off but they understood. Lily meant the world to him. He couldn't loose her.
Sirius grinned goofily, in such a way that it was a smile the Marauders knew he used for breaking the tension, and pointed at James. "I just go what he says. Got to support my brother and his darling with, you know. He'd do the same for me."
"You don't have a wife Sirius."
"And aren't I lucky. From what I've seen of yours, they nag too much."
"Sirius."
"That's my name."
James shook his head and turned to Remus. "So when is our guest going to wake up?"
"A couple of hours still. Vance is keeping watch."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" asked James, "I mean, he did save her best friend's kids."
"Wow Moony, you were right. He is as paranoid as Moody."
"Shut up."
"So who do you think he is?" asked Sirius Black, taking a seat now that the atmosphere had relaxed.
Remus Lupin shrugged. "I've never seen him at Hogwarts. He would have been around our year, maybe a bit older."
"Maybe he's from Europe and went somewhere like Beauxbatons."
"Can't have been there. Rosalita remembers every face that passes through."
"Insane memory that one," commented Sirius.
"I don't recognise him but there is something familiar about him."
"Well you notice everything Moony," commented James, "Besides you see enough of people in the wizarding world and you're bound to notice features from all the old families in almost everyone if they're closely enough related."
"We're all inbred," added Sirius with a grin, "especially the Malfoys. Poor Cissy's children are going to have extra limbs."
"He's kind of bony don't you think?" commented James, deciding to ignore that Sirius had just called both of them inbred. Moony was the only one in their group who escaped that label.
"I noticed that too. He's so skinny. If Gideon and Fabian introduce him to Molly he won't stand a chance."
"Oh," grinned Sirius, "guess what I heard."
"What?"
"She's pregnant. Again."
"No?"
"Yes."
"Really?"
"Marauder code of honour really."
"But that's number six."
"She really wants that girl, doesn't she?"
"It'll be a boy. Mark my words; it'll be a boy. There hasn't been a Weasley girl in six generation and you know how many branches of that family there are. They certainly are a fertile family. It's probably a curse or something."
There was a feminine laugh from the door as a young redheaded woman walked in and placed a kiss on James's cheek. "I leave you boys for five minutes and you start gossiping like old ladies."
"We weren't gossiping," Sirius said defensively, "besides, it was forty minutes."
Lily Potter smiled indulgently and turned back to James. "I doubt there's a curse on the Weasley family."
"There's a curse on the Potter family." Remus and Sirius groaned, having heard this story many times before when they were younger and it was cool to have a family curse to brag about.
"Really?"
"Yep. My great, great, great, great, something or other, great grandfather promised to marry a French part Veela by the name of Zuna de Lune. Anyway, he got her pregnant but went back on his promise, came back to England, and married a pureblood witch instead.
"Anyway, Zuna was heartbroken and as she lay dying, giving birth to his stillborn child, she cursed all of the Potter heirs that carried on the mainline to end up in the most unfortunate and dangerous circumstances to kill them off and sealed the curse with her own death.
"However. The woman that my great, great, something or other grandfather married was a powerful enchantress and, while unable to break the curse she was able to pace a powerful counter charm so that the heirs would have the extraordinary good luck to get out of those situations mostly unscathed, as long as they didn't have their own heir to carry on the line."
"Boring," yawned Sirius.
"Well I thought it was quite interesting. Far more so than the dramatic tale of how your cloak has been handed down father to son for generations."
Sirius mock gasped. "Prongs, Moony, she insulted the cloak"
"Oh the horror. The horror!"
Remus rolled his eyes at his two friends' antics and looked across at Lily who had done the same. "When does Peter get off?"
The fourth Marauder, Peter Pettigrew, had a job in Hogsmeade at the Hogshead, which he used to inform the Order of any seedier goings on, or any Deatheater raids, which were becoming increasingly common.
"Not for a couple of hours."
"He'll be back for the fireworks then?" asked Sirius with a grin.
"You will not be interrogating that poor man as soon as he wakes up," snapped Lily, "That magical depletion curse is a horrible piece of work. Poppy says that if that man hadn't not used magic in so long before today he would be dead by now."
"We need answers," protested Sirius.
"Only after he rests."
"He's been asleep all day. We need to know whether he's a threat. He's got enough scars on the body to prove he's been in several duels. If that's the case then we need to know why he hasn't used magic."
"You're so bloody heartless, James Potter," yelled Lily, in one of her very pre-seventh year ways, before storming out.
Sirius turned to his best friend, who had slumped gloomily in his chair. "What was that about?"
James smiled. That was the good thing about Sirius, he knew just when to be serious, at least when it came to his friends anyway. Other situations still ran away with the man. "Lily and I have been having problems," he admitted.
"What? Since when? Why?"
Remus paid close attention as well.
"Lily wants a baby."
"And this is a problem … how? You've always said you wanted a family with Lily."
"I don't think now is the right time?"
"The war?" asked Remus.
James nodded. "We had a big fight about it. She says we can't put our lives on hold but she hasn't seen what the deatheaters have done to some of the kids. It makes me sick. Things got tense and we said some things, hurtful things and old issues came up. We made up but there are times when everything comes back."
"Geez, I'm sorry Prongs. You just have to work things out before another guy comes and whisks her away and – Ow! What the hell was that for Moony," he complained, rubbing the back of his head.
"Padfoot," hissed Remus, "That doesn't help. James, Lily wouldn't leave you. You love each other and are just going through a rocky patch. All couples have them. Why do you think there was such a big gap between Charlie and Percy Weasley? Molly wouldn't even let Arthur touch her according to Gideon."
James grinned. "At least I don't have it as bad as him." He paused, another thought seemingly coming to him and looking depressed again. "What do I do?"
"Take her out. Make her dinner or something. Whatever you do, just make sure you talk to her without fighting."
"Thanks. When did you get so good at relationships Remus?"
Sirius began to snicker and Remus glared at him. "Not a word."
Sirius didn't appear to hear him. "Remus is the agony aunt for the Daily Prophet," he sniggered.
"You're Madame Featherwing!"
"I hate you Sirius."
Five minutes of questions about Remus's choice of employment later – 'I like helping people and because of stupid Ministry laws I can't be an auror or a healer" – and any doubts that things wouldn't work out with Lily were gone.
"So when are we going to do that interrogation?" grinned Sirius.
Sorry for the late update. This story is a lot more serious than others that I have done and I needed to get the emotion right. I can't have Harry happy jsut because he's in the past because everyone's alive. They died. He lived through that and carries the scars because of it. He may get to save everyone from dying this time around but they won't be the same people. This Sirius didn't fall through the veil coming to protect him, this Remus isn't the same man who helped in the fight agaisnt Voldemort, this Lily didn't give her life to save him. The people he knew and loved don't exist yet and many he hopes to make sure never exist.