Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter either. It belongs to its creator J.K. Rowling and probably Warner Bros. too. I'm not too sure about that. This piece of literature is simply the work of a humble fan. I also credit Jim Butcher for various themes, subjects, or references that I may use.

Author Notes: This is a Harry Potter crossover with the Dresden Files the book series. All my knowledge of the Dresden Files comes from the books. I've never seen the TV series. Thanks to the folks at DLP for help with editing.

Awaken Sleeper.
Chapter Twenty One: Nothing Like the Sun
by: Water Mage

In dealings with the Sidhe Courts remember: Some winter days are mild and sunny. And a summer storm can be brutal and vicious.

Things aren't always what they seem.

It had been four weeks since the Faerie War and Aurora's revealed duplicity, two since Harry began treatments to restore Margaret Dresden to sanity. Although he contemplated stabbing Aurora repeatedly, Harry was forced to keep a cool head. Any wound he inflicted on her would be dealt to him, such was the nature of their metaphysical connection. It was what it was, and for better or worse this was the ultimate price of a deal that saved his life. However, though they had a somewhat dysfunctional partnership, their true agenda was not lost.

Oberon and his allies wanted a revolution the likes of which hadn't been seen since the holocaust of the old gods. Humanity had built their steel cities on the ashes of these fallen beings and all the while the shadows gathered and plots were sown. After weeks of reconnaissance they were truly beginning to grasp the major players. Yet it was Margaret Dresden who was their trump card. In her fractured mind was key intel of the elusive organization.

The Queenswood was a dangerous place these days. Harry made swift pace through the forest careful to mind his step and keep his presence undetected. It wasn't uncommon to run afoul of some searching hunters setting out from Lux Sanctum. Titania had placed a bounty on Oberon's head that rewarded lordship to anyone no matter their low birth or station, a piece of land and a Sidhe's weight in gold to whoever brought the rogue king in dead or alive. Phoenixes were carrying her promise to every part of Faerie, and it would be soon when word crossed the divide to other realms of spirit in the Nevernever, like the Iron Jungle and the Wailing Islands and then the lands beyond. Hunters prowled to the ends of the Nevernever riding on their horses, hell hawks and other demi beasts tearing the spirit lands apart for their prey.

Harry came out of the large forest directly south of the high walled castle of Lux Sanctum sitting on the coastline. A mirage of heat waves danced above the green fields in the distance between. It was growing hotter everyday in the lands of Summer. The weather reflected its queen's mood.

If Titania grows any angrier the whole kingdom might as well sit in the center of the sun. When Harry apparated into the courtyard of Fyrethroat his upper body was covered in a thin layer of sweat. The dragonglass walls of the main keep loomed around him reflecting the sun's light in a prismatic array of color. The sight of them made him feel more confident. Titania's hunters were gaining a fearsome reputation. The only spider here I should fear here is Aurora.

Harry tapped his chest with his wand tip and instantly felt refreshed and much cooler. He let out a contented sigh and made his through the winding corridors. There was no point in searching for Aurora. He already knew where she was. The Chamber of Brightwater was a cavernous room host to a long avenue where sat a large, ornate fountain spilling luminous blue water over its sides. The enchanted water fell into a wide pool that circled the entire room and lit the chamber up with a cool blue glow like the inside of an aquarium. Steps led to the top of the fountain where upon a mounted platform sat a raised chair made of pale gray marble.

Aurora stood before the fountain's steps staring into the shimmering pool. The water's glow reflected in her eyes when she looked up at his entrance, blue dancing within green. She was dressed as commonly as Harry in a pair of jeans and t-shirt. With the outfit and her hair gathered in a ponytail, she could probably be mistaken for a coed. Which was the point.

"Were you followed?" she asked.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Hello to you, too. And no I wasn't. A group of riders with Lord Orophir's coat of arms almost made me near the borderlands. It wasn't hard to shake them. It's not like they're looking for me anyway."

"Discretion is key," the Summer Lady cautioned, frowning. "The less anyone knows the better."

"You know they're calling you the Queen in Hiding?" Harry didn't supply her other name of Aurora the Tricked the smallfolk whispered in secret councils.

Aurora shrugged. "As long as my enemies think the same, they won't see me coming until the knife is at their back."

"I still say you should ask Titania for help," he suggested, crossing his arms. "She wants Oberon's head just as much as you do."

She shook her head. "There might be some changelings within the courts that harbor a soul, but they're tools and they have their uses. I'm a Queen of Summer. I am light and earth and the fire that burns all creation to ash. I'm next in line to rule and in the eyes of my people I am an abomination. So I will keep my soul secret and keep it safe, because right now it will be taken as weakness."

It was the first time he got a straight answer from her. It wasn't unexpected this was her reasoning. After all the Sidhe were nobility for a reason. There was something coldly flawless about their unattainable perfection.

"So all this is about proving something?"

"In addition to being a preemptive strike against all of our destruction," Aurora admitted easily. "When my secret comes to light the people will see that I haven't lost my strength when I display my father's bones above the Summer throne."

Of course she had ulterior motives. Harry stared at her. "Having a soul doesn't make you weak. You don't have to prove you haven't lost your edge."

"Oh, but I do," she replied. "The Courts weren't established by flowers and rainbows. We built our dominion in the Nevernever through conquest and treachery. Some will expect my soul to be the downfall of all we have built. A curse on my line that will lead them to their bitter end. I'll show them differently, and their redemption will come in the golden path I plan to set for the Summer Court. A new era is dawning, dear husband. Are you ready?"

There was fire in her voice and he could read her resolve in the shape of her mouth and the tension in her shoulders. She meant every word. She means to start a revolution. Harry had thought those anarchist days of hers ended with the Faerie War weeks ago, but it was more like her focus had just shifted.

"You aren't going to try to end the world again, are you?" He looked at her closely, not reassured by her put out look.

"I'm talking about greatness, Harry Potter," said Aurora without looking away. "We will crush my father and his faction and then we will stand as tall as titans. Our reign will be legendary."

"Our reign?"

A sharp smile broke across her face. "You will be my king. You're my husband, no?"

"Putting aside your rather scary Machiavellian schemes of the future, let's try to focus on the present." He said it more for his benefit than hers. He wasn't ready to dive into the grand plan she had cooked up. Although eventually he would have to, somebody had to keep her scheming in check or she would find some way to pull him in anyway.

She faced the pool again. "How did everything go?"

Harry withdrew his original wand from the pocket of his slacks. He was dialing back on using the White Wand these days. After Aurora's warning he was careful with Mother Summer's gift. The power of the wand couldn't be denied, but he didn't know what the catch was. He wouldn't forget the look on Aurora's face when she saw the stick. It hadn't been outright fear, but close to it, like apprehension.

The waters stirred when the wand arced through the air. Shapes rose up from the water and solidified into a tall man with aquiline features, high cheekbones and a pointed chin with a shadow of a beard. He was handsome, but there was something forbidding about his narrowed eyes. The water construct was superbly lifelike even if it lacked the true color of cloth and flesh.

"Thorned Namshiel," Harry named the simulacrum. "I followed the demon for three days—"

"He's not just a demon," Aurora interjected, appraising the projection. "The Denarians are unions of a human host and one of the Fallen. They're the greatest foes that oppose your friend Michael's knightly order. There are thirty such fallen angels, cast into exile and each bound to a silver Roman denarius."

Harry's head snapped to her. "Angels?"

"Fallen angels," she repeated. "Imprisonment's the price they paid for following their big brother to war. I suppose it saves the Morningstar trouble of keeping them in check in perdition. In any case, it was before my time and what's done is done. Our enemy has many faces and this one is most deadly. The Order of the Blackened Denarius isn't to be taken lightly. They're powerful as they are cunning."

"I thought Denarians were just demons, good to know." And it was. He had put so much effort into learning ways out of this world that he hadn't expended the same energy learning about the world itself. That was a mistake he was going to fix. You can't escape a cage until you know everything about it. "Well, I followed the Fallen for three days and let me say, bloke gets around. He has a thing for brunette hookers and drinks far too much Jameson."

"We're fortunate hellfire was used during my father's breakout. I spent considerable resources tracking its user, dear husband. Please tell me you discovered something relevant?"

Another shape rose from the pool and formed into a man with slicked back hair. His mouth was formed into a small smirk at home on his handsome face. His suit fit his broad shoulders superbly and there was something well put together about the simulacrum that made the figure project a sense of wealth.

"The details aren't crucial, but Namshiel eventually met with this guy," said Harry, nodding to the newest projection. "I did some digging and he's Duke Paolo Ortega, warlord of the Red Court."

Her smile turned satisfied. "It's just like we thought. My father's allies will lead us right to him."

"It's going to be harder than that. We now know another member, but there are still the faceless ones we haven't tagged yet. We have no idea about leaders of this organization or numbers or if they operate in cells. Knowing another face isn't really a break in the case, Nancy Drew."

"I assume that was one of your amusing pop culture references," Aurora noted blandly.

"And wasted on you. I really should save them for Dresden," he replied with a slight smile. He waved at the water projection to get back on track. "They were speaking a dead language I can't begin to guess at. But two words didn't translate however: Chicago and Dresden."

A pensive expression settled across her face. "Interesting. That I wasn't expecting. I suppose they would take an interest in him given, his mother and her ties."

"So because she has information on them you think they're gunning for him?"

Her thoughtful expression faded with the question. "The only one who knows for sure is Margaret Dresden." Inhuman eyes locked on a pair of green. "Come. Let us see how our guest is doing."

Harry followed her out and they made their way through the castle. It was no wonder the island was once Oberon's original seat before his imprisonment. The castle was a thing of beauty crafted by dwarfs years before Aurora was even born. Margaret would be found in the Scathing Moon Tower, the tallest structure that stood at the corner of Fyrethroat's central keep.

Harry found his mind wandering during their walk. Not for the first time he wondered if they were doing the right thing by not telling Dresden about finding his mom. It had been Harry's decision, wanting to spare the older man the dash of joy of reuniting with his parent only to find her batshit insane. Harry wasn't an expert at the mind arts, but he was hoping he could do something—anything—to help her. Dresden deserved a bit of happiness.

Harry hadn't seen him in a few weeks. Chicago had felt the fallout of Titania and Mab going head up. The city was still recovering from the ravaging of the sudden and fierce tropical storm. Dresden's office was one of many utterly destroyed by the devastating tornado that tore through midtown like tissue paper. Elaine was being a good friend to him, while Harry had been living on take-out as he staked out a horny Fallen angel from the back of a rental van.

"Say we get a plan together and key intel," began Harry as they passed before a row of tall arched windows with an awesome view of the lake beyond, surrounded by a forest full of burnt orange leaves. "Do you think we have a shot of killing Oberon? This is the guy who killed Merlin. He's no lightweight."

"Rogue," Aurora said simply, then frowned deeply. "Very true. He won't be killed easily."

"The way you say it, the way all of you say that word—" He shook his head. "I still don't completely understand what it means."

A small bitter smile found its way onto her face. "My parents union was a political one. Mother was a new queen, and in Father was the blood of kings. He was the last of the Daione Sidhe."

"Daione Sidhe?" Harry asked.

"Dagda, Lir, Ogma and others were the High Sidhe. The Tuatha Dynasty."

"Tuatha Dynasty?" he asked again.

Aurora nodded and looked troubled. "They ruled Faerie before the Courts of Winter and Summer. Their reign is over and now they're all gone. Banished to the Outside or killed, it's a story for another time." Their steps were silent as they meandered through the galley and the inner and outer walls. "Oberon was a beloved king, some would say great. I believe that greatness and madness are but two sides of the same coin."

I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter... After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things — terrible, yes, but great. Years later and the memory was clear as ever, and he found himself agreeing.

Harry looked at her pointedly. "What happened?"

"He began to hear things. Sometimes he would talk to himself and was quick to paranoia. The Summer power he shared with mother ignited a dormant Daione Sidhe trait of genetic memory that he couldn't control. It grew into a psychological instability. He became possessed with an inner multitude of ego-memories." She gestured at the crystal walls. "He retreated here to Fyrethroat and waged his cleansing war to annihilate the lowborn: the fairies, sprites, goblins, elves and whoever else not Sidhe."

Harry averted his eyes and muttered, "I know the type."

"He swept across Faerie like a storm and they called him the Rogue King. Mab delighted in the whole thing, so Winter didn't lift a finger. At last, he was defeated by Titania at Spring's End when they dueled in single combat."

"And she didn't kill him because of their marriage," Harry supplied with barely a smile. "Neither can die by the other's hand. Like us."

Aurora nodded. "You see the truth of it now. That, dear husband, is what a rogue is and why the very word is one of scorn and distrust."

They ascended the turnpike stairs of Scathing Moon Tower. It was a slender structure with six stories and the top was given over to the apartments where Margret Dresden was kept. The rooms were spacious with whitewashed stone walls and windows that overlooked the outer walls to the clear sea beyond. The chair that faced the window was empty today.

Margaret's giggling came from the foot of the sofa and she stared up at them with glassy dark eyes when they entered. "All the pretty stars and all the children dance and dance, and fall and die. Teardrops, can you tell me my name," she dabbed at the tear coursing down her cheek and licked it, and then grimaced. "Chronos don't ask me how, it will drip and echo and go beyond the whirlpool of lightning. Repeat, repeat, repeat."

"That was lovely," Aurora declared, clapping her hands. "I do so love poetry."

Harry arched an eyebrow. "Really, Aurora?"

She looked at him with bright eyes and a pretty smile. "I thought you liked when I was nice."

"Believe I said sincere, but whatever," he returned, ignoring the laughter that followed. "Hello, Margaret. How are you?"

She didn't acknowledge the greeting. She never did. Harry took a seat on the floor next to her, carefully crossing his legs. There was safe distance between them, because he was still wary of getting his eyes clawed out again. Aurora took the seat by the window holding them with a curious stare.

"Do you really think she will eventually recover her mind?"

Harry shrugged. "The mental disciplines were never my area of expertise. A near death experience on top of a cursed transfiguration for over two decades… well, you see the results. I'm guessing on how to heal her, really. But I can't think of anything else that could fix this damage."

"Very well," she said with little emotion. "I hope she lives up to her reputation. I'm starting to regret rescuing someone so useless."

Harry blinked. "That soul definitely didn't give you a heart."

"So sensitive," Aurora stated with the slightest huff. "You'll be singing a different tune when the Lenansidhe figures out who orchestrated the kidnapping of her favorite pet."

"She'll be coming after you, not me," Harry reminded her. "I had no part in the breakout."

"Us." Feline eyes gleamed as a wicked smirk manifested her mirth. "She will come after both of us. Have you forgotten we're in this together?"

"You would sell me out?"

Aurora gasped throwing a hand over her heart. "You think so little of me?" she asked, wounded.

"You are lovely," he deadpanned. He shook his head in dismay when her face lit up because seriously, again? "Sweet magic, Aurora. Please try and learn sarcasm. You're killing me."

She folded her arms across her chest. "I can't kill you and for that you are lucky."

"I love when you talk dirty to me." Harry pulled out his wand and Aurora's entire body tensed up. He rolled his eyes, sighing. "Calm down, twitchy. It's not even pointed at you."

Harry faced Margaret with the wand across his lap. He sent her a piercing stare and her mouth opened in a soundless cry when he nonverbally cast Legilimens, and then he was delving deep down into those dark eyes like an open mind isn't a book to be read at whim. It is a complex labyrinth of many layers stacked with emotions and thoughts and memories given leases. Experience shapes someone and everyone's mind is different. It was a skilled Legilimens that could read it, control it, and unhinge it.

Margaret's mindscape was a forest filled with impossibly tall trees eclipsed by a stormy sky, and it was raining. It was always raining. Harry flipped the collar of the navy rain jacket that manifested when he appeared. There was no path to follow, but he knew where he was going. He made his way through the forest careful to mind his step, since the last time he was here the ground had given way and swallowed him up in a void of darkness filled with mad, horrifying cackling.

The Glass Lake was what Harry called the great body of water that sat in the middle of the forest. The water was so clear that you could easily see deep down to the very bottom. It was more like a sheet of glass than water. In the middle of the lake, floating on her back and completely nude was Margaret Dresden. Her long black hair haloed around her head and Harry had to marvel at how utterly serene she looked. It was a tranquility that she lacked in reality. Water covered her pale skin and her face was smoothed of the perpetual scowl.

Harry kneeled down at the lakeside frowning at the clear water. His reflection didn't appear. Memories should have played across every square inch of the surface like a collage of neverending videos. Harry waved his wand over the lake murmuring a healing spell. Slowly but surely an image started to form. It was a boy. He was about five and dark haired and had the lightest pair of blue-grey eyes. There was something almost familiar about his face. Harry stared closer and the water gave a sudden violent ripple. The image fell apart as the water reverted to its pristine state.

"Great," Harry muttered, standing up. "Every time."

No matter how much power he poured into his healing spells it never seemed to take. Was this what the Healers at St. Mungos dealt with when dealing with the Cruciatus Curse victims? Once their minds were shattered they were gone. No treatment had been found, so nothing could bring them back. Harry could try, but really he was shooting in the dark here.

He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. When he opened them he was sitting in the room again and facing Margaret on the floor. There was an ache in his knees from sitting cross legged for a long time. Harry looked over to Aurora to see her peering back at him, eyes gleaming in speculation.

"Progress?"

Harry looked at Margaret's unchanged blank face and then back at Aurora, tilting his head. "Be more perceptive. I dare you."

There was movement out of the corner of his eye and Margaret lurched forward. She grabbed Harry's arms in a painful grip. Her long fingernails dug into his forearms drawing blood. Harry winced as Margaret's stare pierced him with a focus that he'd never seen. She opened her mouth and her words almost stopped his heart.

"Blood, blood, blood. My blood. Your blood. His blood. One, two, three, again two, back into one."

The color drained from Harry's face turning him sickly pale. He wrenched his arms away and Margaret fell back hard. She giggled and stared blissfully up at the ceiling with a vacant stare. Aurora was next to Harry with inhuman speed. She laid a hand on his shoulder wearing a genuine look of concern. Harry jumped to his feet stumbling back on shaky legs, his mind racing.

"Harry?" Aurora asked, staring at Margaret with the slightest edge of dark anger. "What was that?"

"How did she know?" He was completely frantic, so the words came out Firebolt fast.

Aurora grabbed his wrist. "You know what that means, don't you? What she said."

"I've heard it before," he replied, distracted. His thoughts were going too fast for him to grasp.

"Tell me," she pressed.

His hands ran through his hair, eyebrows furrowed together. "It was years ago. I completely forgot—I thought it could be prophecy, but it never came to pass."

"The same prophecy made by two different people years apart. Impossible."

"Not quite so." Harry wasn't sure about impossible, since it obviously just freaking happened. The odds though were astronomically long.

Aurora stared levelly at him. "Who made it?"

"I… He…" Harry lapsed into confused silence, staring at his unlikely spouse. Finally, he was able to rationalize his thoughts coherently. "My little brother."

Aiden had spoken those same words a little over three years ago. Had he seen this moment happening and foretold Margaret's words, or had Margaret seen Aiden's own prophecy somewhere? A possibility was she could have seen the words in Harry's memories somehow, but his mind was locked up tight. His strength was in Occlumency rather than Legilimency, and he would've felt the intrusion. There were too many variables here. Yet the common denominator was the prophecy spoken by two people, a common link across time and space.

Harry held the woman on the floor with a thoughtful stare. "I'm getting to the bottom of this."

"Does this mean I get to the meet the in-laws?" Aurora looked like she was barely repressing a smile.

"No!"

She pouted and looked at him through her lashes. "Why not? Are you ashamed of me?"

This was so not happening. Maybe he was hallucinating. He was dangerously close to hexing the pout off her face. "We both know that's not an option. You—you're not even serious. Come on!"

Harry stared at his wife, who stared back unperturbed. She crossed her arms. "Don't you want me to meet your family with your supervision?" She took a step closer and managed a coy shrug. "If you want me to meet them on my own, well I suppose I'm open to that."

His mouth fell open with surprise. Such a Slytherin.

The scowl on his face might as well have been painted on. Harry looked over his shoulder and cleared his throat. Aurora blinked innocently back at him. Her face was a hairs breath away from his. If he inhaled deep enough they would be kissing. He flushed and scooted forward a bit on the porch. Magic help him, he hoped it was dark enough out here that she didn't see.

"What a lovely neighborhood," she said instead of a teasing comment, glancing around the row of houses sitting quietly in the night.

Harry rolled his eyes. If he wasn't positive she was a super megalomaniac he would think Aurora was a naughty tease. She was constantly plotting and telling two truths and one lie. But there was the other part of her that was flirty and smiling with a laugh that could melt hearts.

"Remind me why you're all in black," he said, sweeping his eyes over her black leather pants and cashmere top.

Aurora did a little twirl. "You don't like?"

"I told you before. Technically we're not breaking in. My parents are asleep so we're just going to talk to my brother and then we're off. No need to turn this into a thing." He gave her a hard stare. "You promised."

She nodded and made a cross above her heart. "We had an agreement, dear husband. I will honor it because I'm very intrigued to meet this brother."

There was no way in hell he was voluntarily allowing Aurora to meet his parents. Getting her to agree to them sneaking into the Potter home in the dead of night was a struggle. He knew she just wanted to scoop out his parents to get the measure of them. There was a special place in her mind that she devoted to him. Anything and everything related to Harry Potter and the mysteries that surrounded him went into it. He would be a fool not to see the sudden sharpness in her eye with each new tidbit she learned about him.

"Alohomora!"

The door unlock turned with a satisfying click. Harry slipped his wand back into his front pocket. He looked at Aurora and held his finger up to his lips.

"Remember, quiet."

A look of clear amusement was her reply and she brushed past him and into the house. Harry entered behind her taking stock of the dimly lit foyer. A table lamp in the living room to the left was still lit throwing shadows and muted light into the hall. His mom or dad usually left it on for Aiden in case he wandered down at night. Harry took a deep breath barely holding back a small smile. It was weird but the place even smelled the same. It was oddly comforting.

Harry pointed a finger at the ceiling and then mimed walking up a staircase with his fingers. Aurora stared at him like he was a moron. He wanted to give her the finger but she might scream or something else unpredictable and wake his parents out of spite. She was vindictive like that.

They second floor was equally as quiet and Aiden's room was next to Harry's old one. He cast a long look at his parents' bedroom door. Aurora hovered at his side staring at the pictures framed to the wall. He hadn't noticed before but Aurora was actually pretty good at the stealth. Her footsteps didn't make a sound and her movements were a fluid grace that was kind of sexy.

Oh bloody hell. He shook his head. Bugger that, he was not going there.

This way, he mouthed silently, and opened the door to Aiden's room. The nightlight below the window was one of those multicolored ones that switched colors every few seconds. Harry closed the door behind them and casted a Silencing Charm.

"All clear. We're free to talk," he said, striding over to the lump on the bed. Aiden was covered head to foot under the blanket. "Hey, little man. Ai—"

Harry lifted the blanket only to find a lump of carefully arranged pillows. There was a moment of confusion broken as Aurora let out a rolling laugh. She shrugged at Harry's glare. "What?"

The closet door opened a crack and Harry turned when it swung open all the way. A blur short forward and he got an armful of Aiden. He stumbled back into the bed and was greeted with twinkling hazel eyes.

"I saw someone was coming. I didn't know it was you," Aiden said, peering up at him, smiling brightly. He pulled his bangs out of his face.

"You saw me?" Harry asked after a beat he hoped Aiden didn't notice. "You mean you saw the future?"

"It's not clear all the time. Fuzzy, kinda," he replied, jutting out his bottom lip. "And dark."

He glanced at Aurora and shyly turned his face into Harry's side when she smiled back. It was kind of adorable. Harry ruffled his hair and helped him stand, so they weren't half sprawled on the bed. Aiden hopped up and landed on one foot, throwing his arms out to the side to balance himself.

"Aiden this is—"

"Sister," he broke in. He looked up at her through his bangs. "Your wife."

Aurora's smile was bright and Harry was startled at the realness of it. She dropped down to a knee and poked Aiden in the cheek with her finger. "You are absolutely terrific."

Aiden fought a bashful smile, and Harry couldn't quite control his own. It was a terribly lovely sight to see Aiden trying to resist, his dimples starting to dip into his cheeks as he tamped down the edges of the rebellious grin. Harry found the whole thing too bloody adorable. It was all he could do to stop himself from wrapping Aiden up in a hug and pinching his cheeks. He missed this weird kid. He missed his family.

Harry touched Aiden's shoulder. "You know Aurora?"

"I've seen her before. A bunch of times." His cheeks flushed pink. He pulled the long sleeves of his pajama shirt over his hands, little fingers peeking out and curling over the cuffs. "I drew her on your birthday when I was little."

Harry's mind hurtled back to his twenty first birthday. He remembered two stick figures drawn in a childish hand. One had been of him that much had been clear even then. The other, the woman holding his hand, had been a mystery. He remembered crayon yellow hair with the sun looming behind her. Harry tore his scrutinizing gaze from Aurora finally seeing it. He looked at Aiden like he was some kind of miracle because his little brother foretold his marriage in a picture drawn in crayon.

Harry pulled in a deep, slow breath. "Unbelievable."

"Yes, it's quite remarkable."

Green eyes found a similar colored pair with cat-slit pupils. Don't even think about it.He found himself gripped by the simultaneous urges to pull his brother behind him and curse her on the spot. Aurora simply shrugged in return.

Aiden bounced on the balls of his feet a little. "You're here because of your sick friend, right?"

Husband and wife traded glances. Harry looked at him uncertainly. "You know about Margaret?"

"She's sick up here," Aiden replied, touching his head. "I see it. She's so sad."

"How do you know that?" asked Harry.

"The way you used to know before you got lost," he said, fingers tightening around the hem of his shirt. "You don't see."

Harry glanced at Aurora. He didn't like admitting stuff about himself when she was around. Screw it. He was already in too far. "I've seen things before, I think. Dreams, visions, and threads of… fate?"

Aiden blew out a breath. "But you don't see," he replied, exasperated.

Small hands found Harry's and held on tight. There was a great twisting feeling as up and down became one and the bottom dropped out from his world. Every sense Harry possessed filled with a foreign sense of energy as his entire world became extraordinary. Cords of silver light tinged with green touched every part of his body and stretched off into space and beyond. Harry's hand reached out to touch—

Undead zombies' numbers grew with each flash of lightning. They spread like a swarm through the campus grounds. Flashes of light lit the night sky and it wasn't the lightning. Bursts of magic slung forward from a small squad of gray cloaked wizards—Wardens. And fire speared the night in a solid white beam of death cutting through the front ranks of undead like butter. The attacker was Harry, but not as he was now. He was wearing crysteel armor with the fiery symbol of Summer over the heart. Gouts of flames roared to life again, and he realized it was Summer fire as he watched himself wielding the White Wand with merciless precision.

He didn't have time to ponder the scene of himself working with Wardens when the ground trembled. A gigantic foot fell from the sky and crushed a sizable number of zombies. Its owner was as long as a city bus, grey, and a bloody Tyrannosaurus Rex. Where its neck and body met was a saddle.

The T-Rex's rider was clad in grey like the other Wardens. Harry Dresden shot a smirk down at the Summer Lord who returned it with a one fingered salute. Dresden kicked his heels and rode his colossal dinosaur into the fray and all hell broke loose.

The world became fire and noise and Harry snapped back to the present with a sharp inhale. His thoughts whirled about. He wasn't panicked, but his heart was beating triple time. It felt like he stopped breathing and maybe he had and hadn't known it. That couldn't have been the future. Zombies, okay he could deal with that. Inferi were undead, too. A future version of himself decked out in fae armor. Sure, whatever. But Harry fucking Dresden riding a T-Rex like a mustang was too much. It made less and less sense the more it progressed. He shook his head, not wanting to get into the sheer logistics of it all.

"You're something else," Harry said between breaths. "How did you do that?"

"I dunno. It just kind of happens," said Aiden with that easy way kids have.

Whatever was going on with the two brothers, the power they shared, Aiden had a natural affinity for it. He was talented and would make a powerful wizard if he went through training. The Potter brothers were special. If and how that connected to how he got here, Harry was going to find out.

"Simply remarkable," Aurora murmured, observing them with keen eyes.

Aiden rocked up on the balls of his feet and held out his hand. "You need to help your friend. Blood will make her smile again."

"Blood?"

"My blood, your blood, her blood."

Harry frowned at the words. "She needs our blood to heal her?"

Aiden just nodded.

"Blood is potent fuel for spellcrafting. Always has been. It's power of life itself." Aurora hummed under her breath. She took a seat on the edge of the bed. "There's something special about your bloodline. Something very old that I do not know."

Harry snorted. "Tell me about it."

Getting the blood from Aiden was a simple enough affair. He felt bad the entire time putting the Numbing Charm on his little brother and extracting blood from a cut to his hand. Aurora handed him a lollipop that she pulled from thin air, while Harry put the stopper on the blood vial. Not on his watch. Harry cast a non-verbal Switching Charm to replace it with his own conjured candy. Aurora pouted at his disapproving frown.

"It was normal human candy I promise," Aurora said with a sigh. "You, husband dear, have trust issues."

"Gee, I wonder why," he ground out through clenched teeth. He rubbed his eye to stop the twitching.

Aurora tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Typical."

Harry rolled his eyes. He slipped the vial of blood into his pocket and clapped his hands. "Alright, little guy. I think its past your bedtime."

Aiden let out a squeal of delighted laughter as Harry tickled him under his arms. He picked the boy up and tossed him into bed. Aiden grinned up at him out of breath and happy as Harry tucked him in tight. He slipped his fingers through Aiden's hair and smiled down at him softly.

"Sleep well, little brother."

He was already yawning when he nodded. He wrapped his fingers around Harry's wrist. "Be careful okay?"

"Always. Now go to sleep." Harry tapped his nose.

They stood over the bed for a moment as Aiden's eyes fluttered closed. His breath evened out as sleep quickly took him. Aurora placed a hand over her heart. "He's precious. I want—"

"Nope," Harry broke in, heading to the door. "Don't even go there."

They stepped into the hall and Harry gently closed the door behind them. Light flooded the hallway suddenly, and they froze. Harry turned around with Aurora beside him. At the end of the hall stood James and Lily Potter and their eyes held an unreadable mixture of emotions, the most prevalent being shock. He waved weakly at his parents.

"Hi, … Mum, Dad."

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Potter." Aurora stepped forward with a disarming smile. "It's such a pleasure to finally meet my husband's parents."

Harry slapped a hand over his face and hung his head. Bloody hell.

Author's Notes; For reference Aiden's prophecy and drawing are in chapters 4 and 6 respectively.