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Chapter 2: Meeting the family
Madam Malkin's shop was crowded. Everyone stared at them as soon as they walked in. Harry wanted to wear simple pair of robes, but his mother insisted on a silk cream button-down shirt and pair of burgundy cashmere slacks. Harry didn't look ridiculous, honestly, with the way everything was, he was expecting full-on dresses in his wardrobe, but there was nothing unconventional. Everything was made of luxurious materials and had very subdued colors.
Probably the style came with being the Minister's husband or maybe this version of himself was just elegant type of stylish or whatever. Clearly, he shopped with his mum, so things definitely looked good.
The stares and the whispering didn't stop. Harry knew this. This was familiar. He was used to this, so it wasn't hard to ignore especially with the knowledge that his mum and dad were alive. They could gossip all they wanted.
"Lady Potter," Madam Malkin leaned in to kiss and hug his mother.
They faked-kissed and smiled at each other.
"Paula," Lily greeted cheerfully. "Tell me you already have the evening robes we talked about."
Madam Malkin winked happily and nodded. "Yes, this way," she said, leading Lily and Harry to a private room.
"I can't believe he is not ashamed to show his face here," someone sneered. "He is trying to sleep with the entire wizarding Britain."
Harry raised an eyebrow but didn't stop in his tracks. His mum did. She turned around abruptly and stared at the girl with a vicious look in her eyes, the kinds of which Harry had never seen before.
"Ms. Greengrass," she smiled. "Sorry, didn't notice you in that... outfit you were wearing."
Daphne Greengrass stared at them with a stunned expression.
"Please greet your mother for me, and give her my condolences," she added with a smirk.
Daphne nodded awkwardly, and Lily gave her a big smile. Greengrass was probably speaking about Harry earlier. It looked like his past self was quite popular in the love department. He gave the Greengrass girl a small hand wave in greeting and followed his mother and Madam Malkin.
Harry wasn't sure how long they spent at the shop, but it felt like hours. His mother looked amazing in all the dresses she tried on, and he just couldn't help but beam with happiness at the way she would happily move about in a new outfit and ask what he thought of it.
"They all look amazing, Mum," he told her each time with genuine admiration in his voice.
Madam Malkin dressed him into a number of robes, adjusting them and making sure they were gripping "in all the right places". Harry stood there patiently like a marionette attached to a string and allowed the woman to craft and measure a gorgeous outfit for him. The silk and the wool and the gentle embellishments all looked very tasteful and subtle.
Harry stared at himself in the mirror and thought with amusement that he looked like a total catch.
"You look so handsome," his mother told him. "I told you this was going to be fun."
Harry smiled at her. It was fun to be with her, but this was exhausting. He probably wouldn't want to do this again. Madam Malkin was wrapping several pieces of dresses and several pairs of suits.
"Paula," his mom smiled coyly with a small blush on her face. "Do you have what I requested?"
Madam Malkin looked at her and then looked at Harry with a meaningful glint in her eyes and nodded. "Yes, and it is fire," she said excitedly. "Someone's going to forget about Wizengamot tonight."
Harry looked around dumbly and excused himself. He didn't want to be there when the women were acting secretive and coquettish. The implications hanging in the air were thickening the atmosphere to the point where Harry thought he would just choke if he heard more.
People in the main shop were still giving him shy glances, so Harry decided to busy himself by going through the containers of various enchanted accessories.
"Harry," a female voice spoke gently, capturing his attention.
Harry turned around and stared at Narcissa Malfoy. She had her signature hairdo and was dressed in a beautiful dark green dress which Harry started paying attention to after spending hours having his mother and Madam Malkin discuss the color and texture of different fabrics.
"So glad to see you, sweetheart," she told him, pulling him into her arms. "Are you feeling okay? You seemed a little tipsy yesterday."
Harry went completely limp in her arms, wondering if Narcissa Malfoy had an ulterior motive for cradling him into her arms. Was their relationship different in this universe? She was a Black after all. Maybe they had a different relationship. Although, it was hard to believe. Harry knew he couldn't make assumptions. He needed to act very carefully and make sure he didn't do anything to make his situation worse.
"I am feeling better," he said politely, hoping she would say something else to give him an idea of what their relationship was like. He was treading carefully.
"I am glad to hear it," she said sweetly. "I was worried."
She looked around and leaned closer. "Are you here with your mother or...?"
Harry wasn't sure who else he could be here with, but he simply nodded. "She is picking the purchase."
Narcissa looked relieved, which surprised Harry. He watched her carefully, trying to detect signs of malice or anything suspicious, but it appeared quite hard to read her facial expressions.
"See you tonight," she leaned for a hug and Harry half-heartedly wrapped his hands around her.
"Mother," Harry knew that voice and that irritatingly sneering tone. Of course, how could he ever not recognize Draco Malfoy's annoying voice? Narcissa let go off him and turned around to look at her son. "What's taking you so long? Oh, Potter?"
"Sorry, Draco! I know you are busy. I will go get the robes. Lily is here as well, so I might be a little late, catching up with her." She said apologetically.
Draco Malfoy looked almost annoyed, and Harry expected him to throw a tantrum, but he pursed his lips and nodded with a sigh. Narcissa seemed satisfied, so she turned to Harry, gave him a tiny pat on the shoulder and walked towards the private room where his mother and Madam Malkin were sorting out the purchase.
He stood there awkwardly staring down at the accessories, while his school nemesis stared at him unashamedly. Harry decided to play it cool and keep to himself.
"So," Draco cleared his throat, leaning closer. "I take it someone else is going to die today since you managed to stay alive after what you did yesterday."
Harry raised an eyebrow and glared at Malfoy unimpressed. Well, at least some things didn't change.
"Riddle must be seething," he grinned like an idiot. "Theo's so dead. After all, no one can touch you. Not even Riddle. Your daddy will put them down like stray dogs if they did."
Harry bristled at that and almost lost his temper over the mocking tone Malfoy used to talk down on him. Even in a universe where their mothers were on speaking terms, the blonde needed to be a prick.
"Precious Harry," he laughed. "Everyone's doting on you, but you are a total bitch. A really hot, nasty bitch."
He whispered the last words, and Harry almost fell down on the ground. What the hell was wrong with Malfoy? He looked proud of himself which told Harry that he said what he said to get a reaction out of him, and he succeeded.
"Seriously," he unceremoniously brushed Harry's hair behind his ear and did it like it was a normal thing to do. "Why would you let Nott grope you? Are you trying to get yourself killed or something? You do know that Riddle's a psycho. My father and yours might be too charmed by his charisma, but you know very well that your husband is dangerous. He certainly didn't marry you for your pretty face, even though, that must be a bonus."
Harry scanned Malfoy's body movement, trying to discern his intentions. It seemed he wasn't really teasing him anymore and expressed a level of genuine concern.
"What's it to you?" he glared at him.
"Oh come on," Malfoy raised his hand indignantly, like he was offended Harry dismissed him. "I am worried about you. The media can't shut up about your scandals. It's something new every day. And if Riddle and your father are fine with you being a total bitch to some run-off-the-mill witch or wizard, or wear an exceptionally outrageous outfit from time to time, they are not going to be happy to have their name associated with you sleeping around with random people."
What was it with people and assuming Harry was some kind of whore?
"Who have I slept with?" he demanded, already fed up with the bullshit.
Malfoy stared at him for a short moment and then his eyes darkened in some kind of thoughtful realization. "Are you telling me that Nott was feeling you up without your consent?"
This was not a conversation he wanted to have with Draco Malfoy. "How would I know? I was drunk," he reckoned.
Only he didn't expect his words to cause Malfoy's total outburst. He looked like he could kill someone. This was concerning. "That bastard," he said clutching Harry like he was some kind of proverbial pearls. "So, he took advantage of your drunken state and decided to paw you. The wanker's nerve!"
Harry strained to free himself from Malfoy's arms. This was getting ridiculous.
"You are so dumb," he scolded Harry like the latter was a child. "How could you get so drunk?"
Harry slowly was getting the impression that he was treated like some fragile princess. Even Malfoy acted like he was Harry's knight in shining armor. This wasn't middle ages. He couldn't figure out what was wrong with the overall vibe.
"Don't worry," he told Harry. "I'll take care of this. Nott certainly will not let his hands loose again."
"Thanks?" Harry blurted, not really thankful and entirely peeved.
"Oh Draco," it was his mother's voice. Lily looked delighted to see the blonde wanker, as she rushed to hug him like he was a second son or something. "How are you doing? How is your Ministry work going? James is very impressed and speaks very fondly of you all the time. I wish you could visit us more often."
If Harry wasn't already surprised, his mouth would have dropped on the ground. Yes, this was a different universe. A very different one.
"The work at Ministry is fine," he said. "Nothing exciting. I am glad uncle James is happy with me."
Uncle James? Now Harry had to really open his mouth in surprise and gasp for air.
"Hopefully, we will see you tonight at the dinner, right?" she smiled sweetly.
"I wouldn't dream of missing it," Malfoy smiled back charmingly, annoying Harry that he was so chummy with his mother.
"Draco," Narcissa spoke, coming closer and clutching Draco's arm. "You are the head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement. All the offices answer to you, could you perhaps do something about Rita Skeeter situation? She is slandering Harry."
Harry was awfully surprised that Draco was the head of the whole department, not even the head of the office within the department, but the whole department. Draco was smart and studied hard in his version of reality, but he was a coward, and Harry was having a hard time imagining that Draco had managed to land such a high and coveted position at the age of 21.
And yes, Harry was getting the impression that everyone was trying to protect him for some reason like he was a delicate flower. Even Narcissa Malfoy, probably after speaking with his mum, was upset that Rita Skeeter was publishing articles about Harry.
Draco's facial expression tightened. It looked like he was irked. He gave his mother a tight smile.
"I know that she is lying about Harry," he said, looking at Harry with an expression that had a teasing glint. "But I can't misuse the authority of my position to intervene. I would advise though for Harry to file a formal complaint against Daily Prophet."
"Cissy," Lily clapped. "You can't ask such a thing. Draco can't jeopardize his professional integrity and involve himself in Skeeter's gossip. I am going to personally rip that witch's hair if she continues slinging mud at my son."
"But it doesn't mean Rita Skeeter can't be investigated for misuse of specific potions and substances," Draco smirked, watching the women and giving Harry a meaningful glance.
"Thank you, Draco," Lily smiled. "I don't want to keep you here any longer. I know you are a busy man. Cissy told me you took time from your schedule to accompany her, which is so sweet."
"He is such a gentleman," Narcissa gushed. Harry wanted to vomit. "We will see you at dinner. Harry, sweetheart, as always you look stunning."
Yep! This world was worst kind of screwed up. Draco Malfoy was a gentleman, and Harry was stunning. Like he cared about being stunning. Clearly, his life in this reality revolved around his looks and making dumb decisions while everyone else had normal accomplishments.
He smiled politely, but wasn't sure he could hide the half-heartedness of his smile. Draco grinned at him and pulled him into a hug all of a sudden. Harry almost kicked him in the balls out of the habit of wanting to kick Malfoy's ass.
"What are you doing?" he muttered under his breath.
Draco pulled back, and the grin on his lips widened. "Try to stay out of trouble."
For a moment, he wished he had his wand, so he could wipe that self-important grin off of Malfoy's face. It could wait though. He had more pressing things to worry about. Things like what the hell he was going to do. Could he really continue living like this Harry? Someone killed this version of him, and they probably would try again. Was it Riddle?
"Let's go, sweetheart," his mum pulled him out of his contemplation.
He followed her wordlessly, leaning closer to her. Maybe he could get used to this world. Maybe he should get used to this world. His mum was here. She was alive. She looked happy. No one was dead. Tom Riddle was just Tom Riddle. His friends were probably alive. Things were quite good. If trouble was looming around, Harry would fend it off. He knew how to handle himself, and he could handle anything and everything.
"I also got what we talked about earlier. Paula had kept the piece only for you, my darling" Lily said excitedly, and Harry beamed at her. It was strange to be much taller than her. He never had the privilege to grow around her and see how he grows taller than her, and now the observation made his heart grow full both with sadness and happiness. "Tom's going to lose his mind."
Tom was Voldemort, Harry was pretty sure, he had already lost hid mind.
Lily gripped his arm and they apparated. They landed outsides the grounds of the house. Harry stared at the large, imposing manor. The place was bigger than the Malfoy one.
"The house is quite big, isn't it?" he said awkwardly as they walked through the gates.
"Is it?" she asked with a smile. "You must be feeling lonely. Tom is working all the time, and there is no one else at home. Maybe it's time to think about children."
Yeah! Fat chance! If they adopted a child, Riddle would probably murder the baby for some twisted magic ritual.
"Don't be stubborn about it," Lily continued. "What's the point of having lurne blood if you are not going to use the perks coming from it?"
Harry nodded with a thin smile. He had no idea what lurne was, and what were its perks. He needed to hit the library and do research. He couldn't just ask his mum.
"Mum," he started hesitantly, "Do you like Tom?"
"Hmm," she pursued her lips thoughtfully. "I trust your father's judgement."
Harry sighed internally. He really wanted to know what his mother thought so he could somehow discern if anything creepy or murderous was happening around Riddle.
"But what do you think about him?" he tried again.
"I suppose, he is very nice," she said as they walked into the manor. "Tom is very polite and charming. He is hardworking, and he fought hard to marry you."
She gave him a delighted smile, not realizing the horrified expression painted on Harry's face. "What do you mean he fought hard to marry me?"
"You know what I mean," she giggled happily, dropping bags of clothes on the large leather sofa. "Tom was very ardent at convincing your father. James called him the most ambitious man ever."
You bet! He was a power hungry psychopath. The question was, what did he want with Harry?
"Things will get better," Lily told him tenderly as if thinking Harry's questions expressed his uncertainty on the relationship with his husband.
"Thank you, Mum," he hugged her.
She didn't know of the storm of emotions running wild in his heart. He didn't want her to know... to worry. Harry tried to memorize his mother's embrace.
"I will see you in the evening, okay?" she placed a tender kiss on his forehead and got up.
Harry didn't want to let her go. If he could just crawl into her embrace and stay there comfortably, he probably would. It was such a childish desire, but he craved his mother's presence, affection and love. Lily used the floo network to go back home, and Harry stood in front of the fireplace to see her off.
After she left, Harry felt very alone in the enormous room, surrounded with bags and boxes of newly purchased clothes.
"Dobby?" he called listlessly.
The elf appeared in the room immediately. "How can I help you, Master Harry?"
"Could you perhaps help me get dressed for the evening dinner, Dobby?" he asked, awkwardly gesturing towards the clothes on the sofa.
Dobby nodded. He immediately grabbed everything and vanished with them, taking them to Harry's room. Once Harry got there, he found the elf was already waiting for him with the outfits properly arranged.
Well, he just needed to play along long enough to get gist of things, and then he could come up with some exit plan. He definitely wasn't going to stay married to Riddle. That was a step too far into nonsense.
Dobby helped him dress into the outfit his mother had picked for him and styled his hair. He had no idea what spells those were, but his hair never looked his tame and soft. He remembered how crazy it was to deal with his hair and how Ron joked that the three of them had some interesting hair problem.
He could see from the window that it was already late. The evening was setting, and the sky was darkening.
"Master looks so pretty," Dobby said, adding a small brooch to the blouse he was wearing.
Harry looked at Dobby thoughtfully. "Would you want me to gift you clothes?"
Dobby stared at Harry and then his expression turned into utter horror, and he started hitting his head against the vanity table. "Dobby wouldn't dare, Dobby wouldn't dare..."
Harry rushed to stop the elf. "Dobby," he said gently, holding the elf's hands, "you don't need to worry about it. When you feel ready, tell me. You can always stay here."
That seemed to calm the elf, but he looked at Harry with confusion. Harry decided not to press further. This was a different timeline. Things were set differently.
There was a very short knock, and then the door was pushed open. Harry turned his head towards the door, heart beating faster, as he was trying to determine whether wandless magic would be enough to defend himself against whoever this was. His body was in defensive mode after months of running and hiding and looking for horcruxes.
Riddle walked in and closed the door behind him.
It was hard to control his instincts of wanting to going into a defensive mode at the sight of Riddle. Despite looking youthful and very handsome, the way his cold eyes measured Harry dangerously, made him a threat in Harry's mind. Riddle didn't have his wand in his hand and walked towards Harry with an expression on his face that could have been best described as annoyance and irritation.
"Well, there is at least one thing you are good at," he said with contempt, scrutinizing Harry with an appraising eye.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry retorted before he could think better of it. Something about the way Riddle looked him up and down, made him indignant. He felt naked under his gaze.
Riddle didn't deign him with an answer, instead, he strode across the room towards Harry, and to Harry's horror, laid his hands around him and tugged him up into his arms.
"You will behave tonight," he whispered into his ear in a sweet tone. Harry felt the heat of Riddle's body surround him at once, this closeness making him dizzy and lax. "Because if you don't, there will be consequences."
Harry felt like a prey in a predator snake's arms that was constricting around him and had paralyzed him with its neurotoxic venom, making his muscles lax and his breathing shallow. It was disturbing how much Riddle could influence his mind and incite such strange physio-psychological response. And the worrying part was that there was no magic involved, influencing him and making susceptible to Riddle's charm.
"And if I don't, what are you gonna do? Kill me?" Harry knew he should have controlled his mouth, but Riddle's patronizing tone rose his hackles, and he couldn't stop himself.
Riddle's arms tightened around him as if in warning, but then he cocked his head slightly to the side and looked at Harry with an amused expression on his face.
"You do have quite the imagination," he said mockingly. "Kill you, huh? And here I thought you couldn't be more dramatic."
Harry shoved him irritated. Did Riddle think he could gaslight him?
"Sod off," Harry grumbled, not being able to get rid of the vice grip of Riddle's embrace.
This seemed to anger Riddle, because he twirled Harry around and pushed him against the wall, knocking expensive vials of beauty potions on the floor and shuttering them into pieces.
He leaned in closer, so close that Harry felt Riddle's body warmth on his back and it felt oddly intimate.
"I told you to behave," he reminded Harry in his low, assertive tone. "That includes the way you talk to me. If you continue behaving like a child, I am going to treat you like one and ground you at home. No more meetings with your air-headed friends. Do you understand me?"
Harry was quickly getting fed up with the way he was being treated. Did the wizarding customs suddenly change? Riddle and everyone else was treating him like he was not a grown man, but a blushing maiden married in the 50s and expected to be obedient to her husband and all nine yards. Just what the fuck?!
He wouldn't put up with this bullshit if he was a goddamn housewife in the 50s. No way he was going to put up with any of this nonsense as a literal soldier fighting in the wizarding war. He wanted to lash out at Riddle and tell him off. But what good would that do for him? Riddle probably thought he was just a dumb socialite, spending his time shopping and cheating on him. Even if he wasn't Tom Riddle, the psycho, who murdered children and was a blood supremacist, he would still be understandably upset about the whole previous Harry behavior.
"Look," Harry tried to speak calmly. "Can you just do your thing and I do my thing? We don't need to see each other or anything. You probably could do better than spend any time with me."
Riddle didn't take his words kindly at all, as he moved Harry backwards and turned him around, so now that they were facing each other. Riddle apparently liked to manhandle Harry. His every move was calculated and clearly taken to cement his authority and control.
He looked at Harry for a second and then sighed. "You are grounded. I will have Barty watch you from now on. Clearly, you still don't understand your role and responsibilities. Maybe it is my fault for letting you act out the way you did all this time. I have tried to be patient with you. You are an adult, but that seems to escape your understanding. What you did yesterday has caused me so many issues at the Ministry. You are damaging my reputation and tainting the legacy of your father."
Harry stared at Riddle dumbfounded. He couldn't ground Harry, could he? Of course, he could. Riddle was the minster of magic and Harry was his childish, dumb husband. Even his mum would not think this was crossing a line. Harry seethed internally. He needed to be smart about this.
"You can't be serious," he tried anyways.
"I am," Riddle informed him, grabbing Harry's wrist all of a sudden and dragging him out of the bedroom. "Be at your best behavior today. This is a very important dinner. Your father and I are meeting important people for the ministry project. And while you do not care, hundreds of magical children need this project to be approved, and we need the support of these people."
Harry now understood how Voldemort got to power. The way he manipulated and charmed must have been this strong, because if Harry knew nothing, he would be convinced that Riddle cared about the well being of magical children.
"Stop flailing," Riddle reprimanded him. "We'll be late to dinner."
This made Harry stop fighting Riddle. He wasn't sure where Riddle was dragging him initially, but now that he knew he was going to his parents' house he was happy. He wanted to see his father. This made him momentary forget about the menace that was dragging him towards the fireplace.
Harry unknowingly had clung to Riddle while travelling via the floo network. Riddle didn't seem to notice or care. He simply pulled Harry into what appeared to be a very beautiful withdrawing room furnished elegantly and displaying various magical artifacts and heirlooms. Harry looked around confused, but then his demeanour brightened when he saw his mother's face.
"You look absolutely gorgeous, sweetheart," she said, walking up to them and giving Harry a kiss on the cheek. "Tom, so nice to see you."
"Thank you for having me, Lady Potter," he said politely, kissing his mother's hand.
"Tom, I told you to call me Lily," she patted on his arm playfully with a delighted giggle. "You are too formal. We are family."
Harry had to use the physical force of digging his nails into his own palms not to step between Riddle and his mum.
Tom smiled politely at her, nodding wordlessly. This was uncomfortable to watch. Harry sighed internally but tried not to show any visible disdain for Riddle. There was no point to do that right now, considering that he knew very little about Riddle's influence over his own parents and how it could potentially damage things for him more than help.
"Where is dad?" he asked.
"He is in the ballroom," Lily told him. "All the guests are there already. Let's go."
Riddle grabbed his arm and clenched in a stern warning. "Behave" he mumbled.
Harry glared at him when Riddle's gaze shifted towards the corridor where Lily Potter was leading them to. He rolled his eyes exasperated and annoyed that he didn't have his wand and had to go along with all this nonsense.
When they walked in, they were greeted with beautiful music and buzzing conversations. The ballroom was enormous, and this was definitely no family dinner since the huge room was crowded. Harry's eyes scanned the room, and he realized with horror that this resembled more to a Death Eater gathering rather than a Potter family dinner.
Harry's hands shook as Corban Yaxley greeted Riddle and hurried to grab Harry's hand and, for some deranged reason, planted a kiss on it. Harry noticed Riddle stiffen next to him as he gave the man a curt nod of greeting.
"Minister," Yaxley turned to Riddle. "Very glad to see you and your lovely husband."
He stared at Harry with a strange look, and Harry fought the urge not to smack Yaxley. Why in the bloody hell was this geezer staring at him lustfully? This was getting way too uncomfortable. Riddle wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulder to Harry's surprise and pulled him closer.
"Counting on your support, Corban," he said charmingly.
"Harry?" Harry turned his head around and saw his father walking up to them with a smile on his face.
James Potter looked happy and alive and much older than Harry remembered him from the photos. Harry was so happy, he couldn't even move. It was as if everything had stopped around him. He had imagined countless times, having his father alive and spending time with him. This moment was so dreamlike that he didn't even notice that Yaxley moved away towards a group of wizards having a drink and chatting.
"My beautiful boy," his father pulled him into a hug that almost lifted Harry off his feet. "You always look like an angel even when you act like a little devil."
"Dad," he cried, wrapping his hands around his father. "I have missed you so much."
James seemed to be a little surprised and looked at him bewildered, but then his expression turned into a knowing smirk. "Harry," he chastised. "Are you trying to get out of trouble? Don't worry, I will take care of everything."
What? No! Harry looked at his dad confused, but the man was already looking at Tom.
"How is the project going, Tom?" he asked as he shook hands with Riddle.
"I have everything running smoothly, Lord Potter" Tom told him with a slight nod. "It looks like Yaxley is still having some reservations though, but I will-"
"Don't worry about Yaxley," his father interrupted Riddle. "I will make sure that Yaxley knows his place and doesn't create problems for you. He should know better than try to muck about. I pay him not to run his mouth, and he will learn to show you the respect that you deserve."
"Thank you, Sir."
Harry's mouth dropped open, and he nearly blanked out, processing the whole exchange. Riddle didn't kill his father for interrupting him and seemed to show a level of respect that was hard for Harry to comprehend.
"We need to talk though," His father said with a slight sigh. "In my office."
That seemed like he was going to scold Tom or something. If Harry didn't know any better, he would think he was having a out of body experience.
"Of course," Tom nodded, and turning to Harry, warned him in a low murmur. "Try not to create problems for me."
He walked away with James as Harry stared at their retreating backs. Great! Harry was surrounded with bunch of people he didn't know in a world he wasn't familiar with feeling like a real imposter. He looked around irritated, trying to find his mum. At least, she believed that Harry loved him. It felt like his dad didn't care about him and thought of him as a silly child.
"Harry, my darling," a woman hugged him suddenly, and Harry let it happen as he didn't even have time to take a good look at her. "You have grown so beautifully. You have my grandmother's looks. I am glad you inherited our side of looks instead of your father's."
"Rose," a man reprimanded her. "He looks like his father too."
Harry looked at the old witch and the wizard. They wore expensive robes and looked like bunch of purebloods that he had never seen before. He wondered who they were, and why this old woman was saying Harry looked like her grandmother.
"Mum, Dad?" Lily clapped as she walked up to them. "James didn't tell me that you would come today."
The witch hugged Lily and kissed her on the cheeks. "Oh, Lily," she said with a smile. "We weren't sure we would be able to come. Your father finally decided to let the hired witches and wizards handle the work at the company. He is such a grump when it comes to the whole potions work."
"Rose," the man chastised her again, but it didn't seem she cared about it.
They were his grandparents. Harry had never seen them. They were already long gone when he was a kid, and aunt Petunia never kept pictures of them since she resented them for supposedly loving Lily more. They were muggles, so it seemed strange that they were dressed like wizards and talked about a potions company.
"Are you going to stay?" Lily asked hopefully.
"No, baby," the man said. "We will leave after the dinner. I have some appointments with the Minister of Magic affairs. You know I am busy and we would love to stay in Britain, but my schedule is stacked. We have to go home, back to France."
"You are wizards?" Harry asked suddenly.
"Harry?" his mother gave him a look. "Did you already drink? Didn't I tell you to be careful?"
"That was a joke," Harry hurried to say. "A bad one. You know I always wondered what if my grandparents were muggles and all."
"Don't even joke like that," his mother signed, horrified.
"So what about aunt Petunia," Harry wondered. It would have been scary to imagine his aunt to be a witch.
"Aunt who?" his grandmother asked.
"Petunia?"
"Okay, that's not funny," Lily shook her head. "You should stop being silly. You know I am an only child."
"I am so sorry, Mum," Harry looked at the strangers. "Grandma, Grandpa, I will go and get something to eat."
They nodded confused with Harry's behavior, and Harry used the opportunity to flee. His grandparents were magical, and he didn't have an aunt. It was strange. And these people seemed very rich. Slowly, Harry was realizing why his other self was a spoiled, childish man. He probably thought that he was some kind of pureblood prince with some extra special magical blood that made him look stunning, and it might have gotten to his other version's head.
No wonder Riddle married him. It seemed he was very connected and influential. He walked forward, not paying attention to anyone and somehow ended up in an empty hall. He could hear his father's voice. He was talking with Riddle. Harry walked towards the door. It was almost closed, except the tiny distance that was still there, allowing him to listen to their conversation.