Al woke up with a headache and a stuffed up nose. His pillow was still wet with the tears he'd cried, and his face was crusted with salt and runny snot that came with his grief. All of the fears and worries he'd pushed to the back of his mind had surfaced when Victoire had finally snapped.
"You will never see them again! Do you hear me? James and Lily-Lu don't exist anymore! Your mum and dad aren't your parents anymore! Don't you see what's happening? We're stuck here forever and there's nothing any of us can do about it!"
A fledgling sense of hope had remained in Al's heart for the last few weeks. He couldn't imagine his parents not marrying each other again. He couldn't imagine a world without James or Lily-Lu. He couldn't picture a universe where he didn't have a horde of Weasley cousins. Though he knew it was unlikely that he'd see everyone again, at least not how he'd remembered them, it wasn't until Victoire shouted at him and Scorpius that the reality of their situation really hit him.
The Harry Potter of 1991 would never be Al's dad again, not the way he used to be. Ginny Potter—Weasley—might not be Ginny Potter one day. James and Lily-Lu might never be born, or others would take their places. If Al was very, very lucky, Harry and Ginny might one day learn he was their son, but they might never know him and love him as a son anymore.
Victoire tried to take it back, but the damage was done. Scorpius had taken it better—he had no siblings or cousins to mourn—but when Al grasped the price he paid for playing with an illegal Time-Turner, he'd locked himself in his room and sobbed until he couldn't shed any more tears.
Harry wasn't his father anymore. Ginny wasn't his mother. James is gone. Lily-Lu is gone. Kiki, Louis, Fred, Roxy, Rose, Hugo—gone, effectively dead, and never coming back.
Even if everything stayed the same, Al thought, while pulling a set of robes over his head, it wouldn't be the same for him. James would be a baby when Al was grown up, if he was ever born. He might not look like James, or sound like James. Maybe Lily-Lu would be born first.
Al's only hope now was growing up alongside his parents—not his parents, not anymore, he reminded himself—and befriending them somehow. Maybe Nana Molly and Papa Arthur would still welcome him as their grandson. Only Victoire was left, the eldest Weasley cousin, and Al hadn't even considered until yesterday that she was going through the same grief of losing her brother and sister. They also had Teddy, who had always been like a much older brother to Al, but he was stressed lately, and his temper was short.
The house was quiet when Al stepped out of his bedroom. He never liked Grimmauld Place, even when it was fully renovated for Teddy to inherit it. It was worse, seeing it in its original state, with the severed elf heads along the walls, the creepy décor, and the sounds from the ghoul that haunted the upstairs toilet. Then there was the crotchety house elf that lurked in the shadows, muttering things to himself or his deceased mistress.
Kreacher was a long-distant memory for Al. The elf had died when Al was four or five. All the stories he'd heard of Kreacher's revolved around his beginnings as the spiteful reason why Sirius died and later, as the miniature hero who fought for his old master, Regulus. Somehow Kreacher had gone from hateful to hero-worship of Harry.
Al still couldn't figure out how the elf felt about him or Scorpius. Kreacher did whatever Al or Scorpius asked of him, and was marginally kinder to them than to Sirius, but he outright hated Teddy and Victoire. Teddy said it was because Kreacher believed Al and Scorpius were Sirius's pureblood heirs, making them worthy of being served, while Teddy was a half-blood and Victoire was an outsider. Al was tempted to tell Kreacher who he really was, but as he and Scorpius had learned, anytime they tried to tell the truth, they felt stings around their wrists. It was too painful to say who they really were, so Al kept up the ruse.
As Al went downstairs in search of food, he stumbled into Walburga's portrait, stirring it awake. Al cringed; half the time she started shouting, expecting Teddy, Victoire, or even Sirius.
"Hi, Granny," Al said glumly, watching Walburga's face soften upon recognizing him.
"Alphard Sirius Black," Walburga's portrait said sharply. "Why must you look so desolate?"
Al sighed dramatically. "I miss my family."
"You are with your family, young man. Your father may have made some mistakes, but you are in your rightful place as his heir." Walburga stood up straighter in her portrait. Even with the grime on the canvas, the jewels laying on Walburga's chest gleamed in the gaslight.
"I had . . . friends," Al said lamely, thinking of his brother and sister. "I don't think I'll get to see them again."
Walburga narrowed her eyes at him. "You will make new friends. You are of noble blood. Slytherin house will be most fortunate when it receives you. It is where all the worthiest of our most ancient and noble line have found their greatness."
Al brushed his messy, black fringe away from his eyes. He and Scorpius were hoping to be sorted to Ravenclaw lately, where they wouldn't have to share a dormitory with their young fathers.
"You're right, Granny." Al forced himself to smile at Walburga, knowing how pleased it made her when he or Scorpius agreed with her. "I'll make new friends."
Walburga, seemingly satisfied with him, returned to her seat in the portrait. Al wished her a good day and then continued down to the basement kitchen, where Kreacher was waiting for him.
"Master Alphard," Kreacher said, bowing, "is the young master needing his breakfast?"
Al nodded and plopped into one of the chairs. Sirius had warned against eating any of Kreacher's cooking, and while that warning might still hold for Teddy, Sirius, or Victoire, Kreacher never served Al or Scorpius anything but delicious and hearty meals.
"Could I get a bacon sandwich?"
Kreacher assented and began his preparations. Al put his chin in his hand and tried to think of the positives, as his Papa Arthur always told him to do when he felt glum.
Maybe, since they knew about the future, Al and the others could help. Maybe his father, and Scorpius's father, could be happier. Maybe Uncle Fred and Teddy's mum and dad could survive. Al even wondered if his namesakes could live longer. Meeting Albus Dumbledore, the Albus Dumbledore, had always been one of Al's dreams. It wouldn't be long before he met Professor Severus Snape, his other namesake.
Even if James and Lily-Lu didn't look the same, or sound the same, or think of Al as their brother, there could be more Weasley cousins if Uncle Fred lived. Perhaps Teddy would get more brothers and sisters if his parents lived.
Kreacher brought the fresh bacon sandwich to Al, and as he dug in, he thought of the other possibilities. All the stories from his parents' and family's youth would be his to witness. He wouldn't need to look at pictures to imagine what happened in the past, because he'd be there. He would be there to see his dad fight off the dragon in the Triwizard Tournament, and he might even see his dad take down Voldemort at the final battle!
Al smiled to himself when he thought how jealous his siblings would be when he met them one day. Unlike them, he would know all the good details of the stories. Perking up at the possibilities, Al finished his sandwich, thanked Kreacher, and then padded up the stairs to avoid waking Walburga's portrait.
Though Al knew things couldn't be the same anymore, the future could be better. He couldn't wait for everyone to wake up so he could tell them about his plan to make the future even brighter.
There was no chance to tell anyone anything. Mere moments after Al made his decision, Victoire rushed out of the room at the end of the corridor (very odd, thought Al, as he thought she was sleeping in Teddy's room now), and her eyes were puffy and pink. She rushed past Al, went to the loo, and when she slammed the door, it woke up Walburga's portrait.
Sirius and Teddy came rushing out of their rooms, silenced the portrait, and then they turned on Al, as if he'd been the one to wake Walburga. Scorpius got up too, and then everyone was awake and pointing fingers.
It was just like home for Al, with everyone squabbling, so he didn't mind sneaking up to the playroom with Scorpius and asking Kreacher to bring them more snacks up there. As they toyed with the old train set that Kreacher fixed up for them and re-charmed, the boys heard muffled shouting from downstairs.
"What do you think they're arguing about now?" asked Scorpius.
Al looked over his shoulder. He could see the shimmer of magic coming up from the staircase, which meant he and Scorpius had been excluded from the adults' arguments. They'd eavesdropped one too many times.
"Dad or the future, I reckon," Al replied. "It's always about Dad or what happens to Dad."
"Victoire didn't look happy," Scorpius said. "Do you still think she fancies Teddy?"
"I don't know." Al picked up a steam engine, which had real steam billowing away from it, and attached it to a wooden train. "She didn't sleep in Teddy's room last night."
Scorpius's eyes widened. "What if she told Teddy and Teddy said he didn't like her back?"
Al stuck his tongue out. "No way! Teddy wouldn't do that."
"Then how come she didn't sleep in his room?" Scorpius sat up and grabbed two trains and a handful of miniature livestock models from the old toy chest. "Once when I went to see my grandparents, Grandmother slept in a different room than Grandfather because she was cross with him. I reckon they had a row."
Al watched Scorpius connect the two new trains with the steam engine. Al took some of the livestock and began placing cows, sheep, goats, and other animals directly on the tracks, while thinking about why Teddy and Victoire would argue.
"I don't know," Al replied, after he put a particularly fat pig across a set of train tracks. "They won't tell us, even if they did." He sat back on his heels and waited for Scorpius to finish putting his livestock on various tracks. The whole circuit was almost ready.
"How come they never talk about my dad?" Scorpius asked. "My dad went through a lot too."
"Your dad didn't grow up in a cupboard," Al said matter-of-factly. "My dad died, kind of."
Scorpius frowned. He and Al hadn't discussed much about the war, or what happened to their fathers; it was unspoken between the two of them, that they knew their families were on the opposite sides of the war, but things were different in the future.
"Ready?" Scorpius asked, pointing his nose at the train. Al nodded and sat up to see what would happen.
Scorpius tapped the end of the train gently, and then it went careening down the rickety track the boys put together. It was charmed so that some livestock would jump out of the way of the train, while others would get smashed into smithereens. Al hoped the fat pig would blow up like confetti.
A hysterical, and somewhat disturbing cacophony of animal noises followed the path of the train. One cow leapt back into the toy chest, another moooed loudly and then got shattered. Two sheep bleated on their way to the chest, and a pair of hogs oinked through a grisly and splintery death. Finally, the train bowled into the fat pig, and to Al's delight, not only did it split apart, but its death oinks continued until the train came to a stop at the station.
Kreacher was called again to make more toy livestock for the boys' entertainment, and the morning continued with the macabre train tracks. It was better than speculating on what the adults were fighting about, or going any further about the war. Al and Scorpius had just rearranged their track for a fourth time when they realized they had a guest.
"Al! Scorpius!" Teddy's booming voice stopped their fun. "We need you downstairs. We've got some things to discuss."
Al and Scorpius lifted themselves off the floor, dismayed that they wouldn't be able to try out their newly designed track, which included loops. They followed Teddy downstairs to the library, where not only Sirius and Victoire were waiting, but Professor Dumbledore too.
"Good morning, gentlemen," said Dumbledore. "I trust you're both well?"
Al and Scorpius nodded and found open seats near the Headmaster. Even though he had seen the great wizard several times, Al couldn't help but be impressed in his namesake's presence.
"You may be wondering why you're here," Dumbledore continued. "Teddy, would you like to tell them?"
Teddy's eyes flickered at Victoire. She was pink in the face, but not upset-looking anymore, though she was sitting far from Teddy.
"We need you to tell us everything you know about Harry and Ginny's years at Hogwarts," said Teddy, keeping his gaze on the boys'.
Scorpius sat up with a grin. "My Dad's too?"
"Yes, Scorp, your dad's too," Teddy said, yawning, "but Al first."
Everyone turned to Al. He felt uneasy under all their gazes, and he didn't know where to look.
"Why don't we begin with Harry's first year?" said Dumbledore, his voice gentle and kind. "What did you know of that year, Al?"
"Er, erm," Al shifted in his chair. "Dad, Uncle Ron, and Auntie Hermione went after the philosopher's stone. They played chess and . . . something about keys and potions . . . and then Dad used this mirror to get the stone. Voldemort melted?" He saw Teddy and Dumbledore exchange a glance, and the two of them nodded at him.
"Please continue," said Dumbledore. "You're doing very well."
Al smiled, pleased with himself, and replied, "Dad's second year was Mum's first. Mum got this diary from—" He flashed Scorpius his best attempt at an apologetic face. "Mr. Malfoy, Scorp's granddad. The diary had some of Voldemort in it, and it made Mum do—"
"It what?" Scorpius gasped, his grey eyes widening at Al. "Did Grandfather know? Did Dad know?"
"I do not believe that either elder or younger Mr. Malfoy understood, or will understand, the power of this diary," Dumbledore told Scorpius. "Rest assured, Scorpius, we will proceed differently."
Scorpius released a breath and collapsed in his seat. Al looked up at Teddy, whose jaw was clenched, and Sirius, whose face was unreadable.
Dumbledore turned back to Al. "What do you remember about what happened at the end of Harry's second year?"
"Dad got Gryffindor's sword from the Sorting Hat that the phoenix sent him, and then he destroyed the basilisk!" Al said. "That's my favorite part of the story."
"Anything else you remember?" Teddy said, rubbing his face tiredly.
"Dad put a fang in the diary and that killed it. Mum went back to normal."
"Okay," Teddy sighed. "Just keep going."
Al didn't understand why they wanted to know what he knew, but he shared what he remembered from his parents' and family's stories. He knew he didn't know all the details—some things even James didn't know, but Teddy might've since he was older—but it seemed it was important for all the adults to know what Al knew.
What Al knew, with as much certainty as he knew that magic was real, was that Voldemort was split up somehow and his pieces had to be destroyed so he would die. Al knew that the pieces of Voldemort were stored in different things, and his father had to hunt for them, but he succeeded and won the war. How Voldemort came to be split up, how many pieces there were, or even what the pieces were, was unclear to Al, but he knew that the various adventures in his father's life led to finding all of them.
After confirming many times over that it was everything he knew, it was Scorpius's turn. His stories were brief and nowhere near as colorful: when the Dark Lord returned, he lived at Malfoy Manor. Lucius Malfoy went to Azkaban for a while, Draco Malfoy became a Death Eater, and Narcissa Malfoy lied to the Dark Lord's face. Nevertheless, neither of the elder Malfoys liked Scorpius's mother, Astoria, because she wanted Scorpius to be more tolerant of Muggles and Muggleborns.
"And I am good to Muggles and Muggleborns!" Scorpius said proudly, after finishing his tale. "Dad agrees with Mum. We don't use the bad word for Muggleborns in our house. Grandfather does, but Mum and Dad don't like it."
"That's very good, Scorpius," said Dumbledore, with his eyes twinkling merrily. "I do hope you continue with these attitudes when you begin at Hogwarts. Perhaps you might even convince your peers to do the same."
"Can we change things?" Al blurted. All eyes returned to him. "I thought of it earlier. What if we make the future even better? What if Uncle Fred—"
"That's the thing, Al," Teddy said heavily, dropping down into the open space next to Victoire. "That's what we were talking about just now."
"About changing things?"
"Unfortunately," said Dumbledore, turning now to Al, "there are some events that must play out. Not all—" The Headmaster met Sirius's stormy, grey eyes then. "But many. You two know a great deal, and you will soon be at Hogwarts with your families. We cannot predict the future any better than you can. It's possible that one slight change in the next month will alter the course of history. What we ask of you—all of us, Sirius, Teddy, and Victoire—is that neither of you make any effort to change the past or future."
"But what if people die again?" Al asked, feeling helpless. "Uncle Fred . . . Sirius . . . Teddy's parents!"
Teddy clenched his jaw. From the corner of his eye, Al saw Victoire take Teddy's hand.
Dumbledore's kind gaze never wavered. "We will be keeping a keen eye on events as they develop. For now, you and Scorpius are Sirius Black's twin sons. You will go to Hogwarts, be sorted with your peers, and try your best. You may befriend your families, but you will know you are saying too much when you feel stings around your wrists. The binding oaths you took have been modified slightly. Everything you just shared with us is now forbidden to discuss outside of this room, or outside the present company."
Al looked down at his wrists. They were shimmering weakly, as were Scorpius's.
"But people will die!" Al said, all hopes dashed for a better future.
"People always die, Al," Teddy said curtly, turning his face away. "There's nothing any of us can do."
Dumbledore sighed sadly in Teddy's direction. "We will do our very best for your families. That is all we can hope for."
Whatever positives Al had thought of earlier that day were gone forever, just like James and Lily-Lu.