Dissindere Temporalis
Here we are with Chapter 2.
As you can see we are changing Perspectives throughout this story, but I'm sure that you all will enjoy seeing things through different eyes, and with different biases.
This chapter introduces us to Charlus and Dorea Potter, who I've grown fond of already. I hope you also grow to enjoy them!
Enjoy!
Chapter 2: Alea Iacta Est
It's easy to think of Magic as something we control. That our Wands and our spellwork bend magic to our wills.
It is a simplistic view, and one that seems more and more espoused by the New Magic practicioners. That it is by sheer force of will, and practice and rote learning that people become masters of their magic.
Magic has no master. We are magic, our very beings, our world, our lives are saturated, permeated, created and ended by Magic. To think of Magic as a dead thing...
Magic, Time, Balance, Destiny...they are all one.
How could Magic be anything less than everything?
- Gladhorn, The Old Magic and the New
One could never call a day working in the Department of Mysteries dull, but today was about as close as it could get.
Charlie Potter tried not to sigh for the hundredth time, as his latest attempt at a diagnostic spell failed to reveal anything else from the artefact before him.
Slowly he put his wand down and surveyed the object which had been the focus of his studies for the last few months.
It was a beautiful creation of delicate wrought silver and metal, which spun lazily around a dark blue orb, suspended within it. The pattern of the spins was reminiscent of a time turner, but the globe inside was made of something completely foreign, unknown, and utterly fascinating.
Even if it was currently foiling all his attempts to diagnose it.
Everything about it was unknown, even the runes carved in perfect, tiny detail were a mystery. They certainly weren't of a modern runic script and indeed, seemed to have very little relativity to any script currently in the archives. The whole thing was an enigma, and had become Charlie's central project.
So many artefacts came through their doors, so many ancient objects or family heirlooms, things that had once been known and powerful and now, no less powerful, but dangerous simply because the knowledge that had once guided their use was gone.
This object compared to the others had seemed trivial. Only Charlie had felt the fascination for its perfect balance and incredible craftsmanship.
The others thought it was nothing.
Charlie however had dedicated himself to the study of time, of fate, of the crossroads that destiny always found, and the many roads that lead to them. He was sure, deep in his bones, that this object was linked to his studies.
And he'd learned to trust his instincts.
Giving into his urges, Charlie huffed a sigh before leaning in and peering at the orb floating within the silver bands.
"What are you?" he murmured softly, frowning as he tapped his wand against his nearby worktable.
The orb simply hung there, silent, unmoving, colours rippling slowly across its surface, silver bands spinning lazily around it.
There was something hypnotic about it, and as he kept watching, lulled by the steady rhythm and mesmerising ripples, he suddenly caught a glimpse of something.
Three young men, and a young woman.
Charlie jolted in surprise and the meditative state slipped away, leaving nothing but incomprehensible ripples in its wake. But he knew what he'd seen, fleeting and shadowed as it had been…
One of the young men looked remarkably like his brother, Fleamont. Except that his eyes hadn't been a shadowed dark blue like his own, or his brother's soft hazel. They had been a startling and vivid shade of green.
Charlie licked his lips, excitement pinging along his arms, and he slowly settled down once more, letting himself be lulled by the device until, slowly, his mind drifted back into that meditative state.
The orb shimmered and once more the ripples formed a scene.
The four were standing in a stone room, wearing simple and stylish robes. The one that was unmistakably a Potter, linked arms with a blond man with a sharp jaw and aristocratic features, and another young man with bright flaming red hair and the build of someone used to an active lifestyle. The redhaired man then touched the arm of the only woman among them, who had long thick bushy hair tied back off her face, and a determined look in her brown eyes.
A moment later she turned and met his gaze through the orb, and she reached toward him. Almost of its own volition his own hand lifted and brushed against the orb's surface.
It felt smooth, silken in a way that was almost wet. But he could see no moisture on his fingertips.
A moment later however a slender hand emerged, and clasped his own. Shocked, he jerked back and four shapes tumbled through the Orb, sprawling onto the floor.
"Ow!" the redhaired boy groaned, "Fuck, Hermione you didn't tell me it'd be that rough."
"Weasley!" The blond snarled, rather like a deeply irritated cat, "If you don't get off me in the next five seconds…"
"Sorry Malfoy."
Charlie stared down at the quartet in both shock, and no small amount of horror and fascination.
Gone were the young men and women, and in their place were children, no older than the little first year students. They were swimming in robes suddenly far too large for them, and had fallen all over each other.
The dark haired boy, the Potter boy, was the first to his feet, looking around himself warily and then jolting as he locked eyes with Charlie.
Charlie stared back, fascinated.
Those eyes were even greener now the boy was here, and he could see more details like the mess of black hair and the strange shape of a lightning bolt scar on his forehead.
The girl straggled to her feet too, and her wand was in her hand, so Charlie opted to raise his hands, fascinated.
"Easy there."
The girl's eyes flicked from the Potter boy to him, obviously seeing the similarities before deciding to speak, as the remaining two boys also struggled to their feet behind her.
"Who are you?"
It was strange, hearing such a commanding tone from such a small girl, but he kept his amusement to himself, knowing that she would merely think he was laughing at her.
"Let's start at the beginning," he gave them a neat little bow, "Charlus Arian Potter at your service."
He was studying them so intently he saw the Potter boy's eyes widen slightly and the brown haired girl jolted a tiny amount in recognition. They knew his name at least, and that was intriguing.
The four exchanged glances.
"Charlus Potter?" the red headed boy suddenly blurted, sounding incredulous, "You're having us on."
"I can assure you I'm not." Charlie tried not to feel too amused, and felt the burn of curiosity, "If I might have your names, young ones."
The four exchanged more glances, "The potion worked," the redhead muttered, "Good work Malfoy."
The blond sniffed, "Once Granger found me the instructions it was simple enough." but his cheeks pinked with obvious pleasure.
"I'm Hermione Granger," the girl introduced, and he turned his gaze back to her, "And these are my friends, "Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy…and Harry Potter."
His gaze immediately jumped back to the boy who bore all the resemblance of a Potter, and nodded slowly.
"And where…or should it be, when, have you come from?" he asked silkily, and watched as the boys shifted slightly.
Not so old then to have lost the idea of being scolded by an adult then.
The girl however met his gaze, her face set with determination, "The Future. The far off Future. I won't give any more detail than that."
Charlie felt his lips quirk upward, "You're an Unspeakable too then."
Instantly her gaze brightened, "You're an Unspeakable?"
He nodded, "Indeed I am. And let me be the one to welcome you to 1938. 10 of May, 1938." She nodded, looking unsurprised, which he tucked away for later, "I won't ask too many questions, if you wish. However you know as well as I do that the Tempus Orb isn't a time turner. You didn't just travel along the stream of your own time, you created a new one. A fork in the river of time, so to speak."
Again she nodded, unsurprised, and he exalted at his theories being confirmed, even obliquely. He'd been on the right track… but that meant these young people had risked ripping space and time apart to come to another timeline.
He made a decision.
"I will be blunt. You're obviously bright young men and women, for all your apparent age now," his lips quirked upward, again, at the disgruntled look on the blond boy's face, "You wouldn't have come here lightly, which means that you have a plan or at least the idea of one."
All four nodded, and his skin itched with curiousity.
"I may be of help to you. You have no need to preserve the timeline of course…you've shattered it. The world you once knew is now gone, beyond your reach. And you are currently in the bowels of the Ministry, in a time not your own. So…would you like my help?"
The blond eyed him shrewdly as the red headed boy's eyes narrowed, "You were a Slytherin. Weren't you?"
Oh, they were delightful.
Charlie grinned, he couldn't help himself, and nodded, "Indeed I was. Much to my older brother's dismay."
The four huddled together and Charlie leaned against his desk, waving his wand idly to slowly shrink the clothes on the children so they fitted.
His effort was noticed, but they stayed huddled for a few moments more before they turned back to him.
"We accept your offer," the boy, Harry Potter, informed him, his stance showing that clearly he was the leader of the quartet, "Thanks."
Charlie smiled, pleased, "I would never turn away a Potter in need." He considered the group and waved his wand, tapping each on the head to dissolution them, "We'd best head somewhere with no prying eyes."
He took them home.
The small castle he had in the south of Ireland was as secure as he could make it. It was unplottable, undetectable and shielded with so many charms it would be almost impossible to invade, unless access was given.
It had always been a magical place, rooted in the ancient ley line under the property and the huge, ancestral oak in the courtyard. He'd simply built upon the foundations already there, and the sentient, intelligent building had assisted him.
He'd hoped to one day pass the wards of this place to his son, and his heart ached at the thought of his boy, lost two years before. It was why they'd come home, him and Dorea. Unable to face staying somewhere with so many memories. This place had been his refuge before marriage, before becoming an Unspeakable, before his assignment to Greece.
Before they'd lost Gareth.
So it was strange now to bring a lost Potter home. Harry wasn't Gareth, wasn't even the child he appeared to be. But there was something about him that was familiar, aching in a way.
Dorea met them in the entrance, and her eyes widened into saucers at the sight of Harry.
"Charlie?" she asked, cautiously, her dark eyes considering the boys and girl closely, "What's all this?"
He hesitated, unsure of how to explain it, and decided that bluntness was the way to go, "They're from the future," he told his wife, whose eyes went even wider at his words, "Or rather an alternate future. They changed it when they came back. It's complicated."
All four nodded their heads.
"How…how did four children travel through time?" Dorea looked shaken, they'd both grown up with the horror stories of time travel gone wrong, "You're so young."
"We're…not as young as we look," Hermione, the bushy haired girl admitted quietly, "To protect our bodies from the timestream, we made a potion. Our bodies wanted to de-age into non existence by the travel, we just…made sure it didn't take our physical forms back quite that far."
"Clever," Charlie admitted, a million thoughts flying around his head at that tidbit of knowledge.
"Right," Dorea murmured faintly, her eyes travelling over them, "Well then, let's get inside, I'm sure you're starving, and I think we all need tea."
She ushered the four in and muttered to Charlie, "You've some explaining to do Charlus,"
He grinned at her and she huffed exasperatedly as he kissed her cheek, "Of course, my love."
They followed the four into the living room and soon enough Dorea brought out some platters of food to nibble on.
"Now," Charlie settled down in his chair, "Start at the beginning."
The four looked at each other, clearly unsure, before the blond boy, Malfoy, shrugged.
"We came all this way, and you were going to contact the Potter family anyway. We're going to need help…"
Harry nodded, and took a deep breath before beginning.
What followed was a fantastic tale, full of tragedy, heartbreak, sacrifice and triumph. The four young people talked long into the afternoon, taking turns when one of them faltered, until the shadows turned to darkness and the candles lit around them.
They told of the rise of a Dark Lord, of Harry's struggle against him. They told of their fight from childhood into adulthood, the destruction of the wizarding world, and the triumph that had grown more hollow as the years went by.
They talked of the people they'd lost, the people the Wizarding World had lost, and Dorea cried silently as she heard of how the Black Family was lost to madness and hatred.
They spoke of how they'd lost hope. How the world seemed broken beyond their repair. How they took the terrible risk, the awful chance, to come back, and try again.
Their world would go on without them. Saved, but broken.
Now they wanted to try again, to fight again, for a better Wizarding World.
The girl was articulate, the Potter boy was passionate, the red-head an unfailing support and the blond boy, the Malfoy, had shadows deep in his eyes that could not be mistaken as anything other than deep trauma.
He believed them, and looking over at Dorea, he could see that she believed them too.
"So you're not going to kill him?" She asked quietly, "Because you think that Time would replace him, fill the void with another."
The four nodded, and she pursed her lips thoughtfully, "So you want to influence him?"
"Maybe," Harry agreed quietly, "If we can."
"At worst, we will simply provide a strong counter balance for him. He was allowed so much room to destroy things by the established system." Hermione mused, "If all of this failed, that is what we would do. Balance him, fight against him. Again."
Dorea nodded, "It's a very Slytherin plan, influencing rather than fighting."
The Malfoy boy smirked, and the Potter boy grinned slightly as the red-head made barfing sounds, before blushing in embarrassment, "Sorry Ma'am."
"No need," she looked amused, "the Weasley family has always been proud of its staunch Gryffindor loyalty."
"And the Potters?" Harry asked, and there was so much curiosity in those words, a hunger. It made sense now he knew the boy was an Orphan, raised by Muggles who had kept him in the dark about his family roots, denying that familial connection.
"We have had a lot of Gryffindors," Charlie grinned, "We Potters pride ourselves on being warriors, but we've also had a lot of Slytherins and Ravenclaws. Even a few Hufflepuffs. I myself was a Slytherin, as I told you, and that's how I met Dorea," he reached out and took his wife's hand, making her smile softly, "I never regretted it. Being a Slytherin is like…answering a challenge. You pass the first test by stepping in the ring, and then you prove yourself. Many Slytherins prize ambition, drive, passion and determination, subtlety and cleverness over simple brute force. So to earn respect in that house requires a level of finesse. Gryffindor and Slytherin are two sides of the same coin, they share many characteristics. And both often share characteristics with Hufflepuffs too."
Dorea shook her head at him fondly, "We've often debated this. I don't agree with Sorting children so early and fostering that us vs them mentality. But I had a great many friends in a number of Houses, and I found value in each of them. Blacks of course are as staunchly Slytherin as Weasleys are Gryffindors."
She shot Ron a smile and the boy grinned back.
"It is a Slytherin plan," Hermione agreed quietly, taking them back to the original topic, "But it's just an idea. We can't plan too much otherwise…we need to be flexible."
Dorea nodded slowly, and smiled a little sadly, "It will be interesting seeing if, after so many years, and so much hardship, whether you return to the House you were originally chosen for."
Silence greeted her words, and the four looked at each other uneasily. Clearly they hadn't discussed it, but, at least to Charlie, it was obvious that each one had wondered where they would now go.
Taking pity on them, he chose to break the silence.
"Well then," he nodded, "You four had best get some sleep, I'm going to make some Floo calls, don't worry I won't share your secret with anyone I don't trust implicitly…" he hastened to assure them as the Malfoy boy and Granger girls eyes widened, "But you're going to need more than just me and Dorea… We can talk about it tomorrow."
"Alright," Harry said slowly, glancing at the others again before locking his eyes on Charlie's. "Just, not Dumbledore. Alright?"
Interesting, Charlie thought, and tucked that little nugget of information away, "Never crossed my mind," he informed him, completely honestly.
The four nodded, and Charlie got to his feet. As he did one of his House Elves, Mellie, appeared by his side, making the Granger girl frown slightly.
"Mellie, dear, would you take our guests to the rooms prepared for them,"
"Yesses Master Charlie," Mellie agreed, before bouncing to the four children and herded the small group out of the room, with the skill of long practice. He grinned as he listened to her fussing, slowly disappearing into the distance, and then turned to look at Dorea, whose smile had faded into worry.
"That's a dark future they told us of," she murmured, walking over to join him by the hearth, "They're so brave… trying to fix it."
"Gryffindor brashness," He scoffed softly, "But even the Slytherin boy agreed with their plan. They're a smart group and they all went along with it. That's what scares me…"
Dorea rested her head against his shoulder, "We're going to help them, aren't we?"
"Yes," he kissed her forehead softly, "We are."
That night he reached out to one of his former colleagues, who had retired many years ago but who might be able to help him.
"Granger, you said," Hector's voice was a familiar low rumble, "Fascinating. You can trust my discretion of course, but this is remarkable Charlie."
"It is," he agreed, propping his head on his hand, "I almost can't believe it, and I saw them, the adult them and saw them come through the Tempus Orb as children."
Hector considered, before saying quietly, "My son… Henry." he paused again and Charlie waited, sensing it was better to stay silent, "My son had no magical ability." He looked down, "I was ashamed."
Charlie winced.
It was a common problem, the shame of squib relatives and their ostracism from the magical world.
"He knew. When he came of age…he left. Told me he never wanted to hear from me again. I was too proud… I don't know where he went." he paused painfully, "He kept part of the name, his grandmother's name."
"Granger," Charlie breathed out, "I wondered, when I heard her introduce herself.
Hector nodded, sadness obvious all around him, "My daughter never forgave me for hurting her brother. In the end, I lost both of them. But… Charlie, you know the theories. Gladhorn, Moreland, Moshall… Time, magic. They are infinite, almost sentient. Balance…"
Charlie nodded.
"So, consider. Of all the times the Orb could have spat them out, they would have only been able to aim for a year, not a specific date. Of all 365 days they could have emerged, they emerged today. When you were studying the Tempus. You, Harry's relative. You who know me.. You who would be able to help them."
"You think.. I'm meant to help them?"
"I think." Hector sighed, "Yes. I think you are perfectly placed to help them, and for them to help you. After Gareth," Charlie's heart ached with pain, "You've been lost. This… this gives you something."
Charlie considered. It was true he was feeling more alert, more bright and engaged than he had in 2 years.
"This Harry Potter… a young man who lost his family. You… a parent who lost their child. You don't stop being a parent just because they are gone. You've been looking… for something, some purpose to fill that void."
His eyes stung with tears and he coughed softly, looking away.
"Magic always seeks balance." Hector's voice was soft, gentle, "I think you were meant to help them. And I think this girl, Hermione, may be my second chance. I will reach out to my son tonight. Beg his forgiveness."
Charlie nodded quietly, it would help a great deal if they could link Hermione to a wizarding family, despite her pride at her Muggle Heritage.
Finally Hector coughed, trying to shift them from their suddenly saddened thoughts.
"The Weasley lad, you're going to need papers, maybe cousins from some backwater. There are so many of them around and about, it shouldn't be too hard. I'll get those forged for you tonight…but the Malfoy boy will be a problem."
Charlie winced, he'd been trying not to think about the problem of Draco Malfoy but it could not be ignored.
"He will have appeared on the tapestries."
"Indeed he will," Hector's voice was serious, "He will have appeared, out of nowhere. Birthdate unknown, parents unknown, but he was acknowledged at birth and that is a powerful spell."
"Leave that to me."
Both men startled and turned to see Dorea in the doorway, a small smirk on her lips.
"Dora," Charlie let out a relieved breath.
"Leave what to you," Hector's eyes were narrowed at her, "You know your relatives cannot be trusted."
Dorea tch'ed at him, annoyed, "You know I went abroad after my years in Hogwarts, I stayed with Amelie Rosier in Paris, learned the art of clothes," Her gaze dared Charlie to say something, but he simply gave her a smile.
It had caused quite a stir in the Pure-Blood circles, a man letting his fiancee run away to another country to pursue a career, but Charlie hadn't cared. He had loved Dora, and her ambition and drive was what made her such a delight. He knew she still doubted, thought he had hidden some resentment for her actions, but in truth, he could not have been happier for her.
She continued, not seeing anything on his face, "There I met a beautiful pureblood girl, Genevieve Malfoy. Half English wife of the French line of Malfoys. She and her husband had attended Durmstrang I believe. He was the younger son, and so inherited a chateau. We kept in touch, I was very fond of her, sweet girl. But.. the point is she was discovered to be barren shortly after they got married.. She thought Armand would discard her, but he vehemently refuted any suggestion of it, to the point of cutting off contact with his family and living a separate life."
"You think they would claim Draco?" Hector looked thoughtful, "Are they trustworthy?"
"It has broken Genevieve's heart to not be able to have a child." Dorea shrugged elegantly, "They considered adopting but… I think they found it too painful. Especially with the stigma of bloodlines being so important. Draco is a Malfoy. Not theirs but still…of that blood. And he is alone."
"And my theory still stands," Hector murmured smugly, making Charlie roll his eyes, "Out of all the people, they came to you. Charlie who can help the young Potter. Who knows me, who can help Miss Granger and Mr Weasley, and Dorea who can help young Mister Malfoy."
He gave Charlie a meaningful look.
"It's like chess, my boy. The pieces are placed carefully on the board, but now we have to play the game."
Charlie was waiting in the dining room when the young quartet emerged in the morning, walking as awkwardly as new colts in their new, smaller, younger and unfamiliar bodies.
He tried to imagine being eleven again, and shuddered.
"Good morning," he greeted them, gesturing at the large spread of food on the table, which they tucked into with various levels of gusto, "I did some work last night, and spoke with a friend of mine. Rest assured that he is someone I trust implicitly, he used to be an Unspeakable who worked with me, and like me he was out and about doing fieldwork in his area of focus. Potions."
He noticed Hermione watching him intently, and smiled, even as he also noted that Draco, though he was pretending to be busy, was listening just as carefully.
"His name is Hector Dagworth-Granger."
All four heads snapped up and blinked at him, and he smiled at them placidly, "The name is familiar to you? Apart from the connection with Miss Hermione here?"
"He founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers." Draco answered promptly, tapping his spoon lightly against his egg, in an idle way that suggested he was unaware of even doing it.
"You think," Harry glanced at Hermione whose face was serious, "He has a connection to Hermione?"
"Potentially." Charlie leaned back with a sigh, "It's possible that his line led to Miss Granger here, if your theory of Squib inheritance is correct."
"The Dagworth line is quite an respected one right?" Ron remarked with a little smirk, and Charlie noted his sly look towards Draco, who squirmed a little, "Known for being smart."
"The Dagworths are indeed a long line of magical theorists and academics." Charlie informed them dryly, "But even if Hector's name was a different one, I still would have contacted him." He cocked his head with a small smile, "He was, after all, the one to create the potion you used."
That was a surprise to the quartet.
Ron choked on his food, Harry's mouth popped open, Hermione's eyes had gone as wide as the saucers the tea was being served on and Draco looked like he wanted to slide under the table.
Charlie turned to Hermione, and his voice gentled, "I know you're proud of your heritage. And understandably so. But the fact of the matter is that there is a possibility Hector is your magical link. It won't change the past, but I won't lie to you. In this time, with your mission, as little as you've told me of it, you cannot remain a known muggle-born. Or at least…not one without a connection. Hector will be a protection."
He turned to them all, "You all need roots in this time. You need families, you need backstories and you need papers to back that up. You must not give anyone any reason to think you're anything other than normal eleven year old children."
The four glanced among each other uneasily.
"We were going to contact some of the families." Hermione mused, but she sounded unsure, "It was hard to plan though, when we weren't sure of the exact date and time we would arrive, or what the state of everything would be."
She sounded disgruntled about that fact, and Charlie hid his amusement.
"I can imagine. Also people do not always conform to your plans. Makes it almost impossible without connections. Thankfully…you have one."
He hesitated, thinking about talking to Harry first, but found himself turning towards Ron, the easiest of the four.
"There is a Weasley couple from the south of England." He murmured, "Cousins of the main branch. They're...reclusive." He winced at the hesitation in his voice and barrelled on, "They're a bit batty. And isolated, but some of the loveliest people I've had the pleasure of meeting. They just want to be left alone in their little world, but were eager to help when approached about an orphaned Weasley relative. They won't ask questions, they actually think they've just forgotten your story, which is good luck."
Ron pulled a face, "Great. I mean… actually that's perfect. Thanks."
He shrugged at Harry, who gave him a small, weak, smile.
"Draco," He turned to the blond, who was paler than usual, and looking anxious, "There is a French Malfoy named Armand…"
"French Aristocrat," Draco immediately recited, "Inherited the Chateau Fidèle in Provence. Married Genevieve Ollivander. Widely known as being barren. Was a patron of magical arts, magical architecture and magical portraiture in France. Highly respected. His Chateau was reclaimed by a cousin after his death."
Charlie nodded, "I see the pedigree lessons are something that continue in the future."
"Bloody hell," Ron grumbled, "Thank Merlin, Mum didn't do that with me."
Draco's cheeks flushed angrily, and he opened his mouth for a retort, that Charlie was sure would have been both pithy and rude, and he smoothly jumped in.
"Either way. Genevieve is a friend of Dorea's. They studied as apprentices of a magical french "Un Grand Couturier" together." he mimicked his wifes phrasing fondly. "They have struggled with the idea of adopting," Draco nodded, clearly understanding exactly why it would be a struggle, "And upon hearing of a lost Malfoy, they are eager to welcome you into their home."
"I'm not a child though," Draco interrupted, and made a gesture of exasperation when they all looked at him, "None of us are. We're grown men and women who defeated a Dark Lord and already lived our childhoods. Despite the potion we can't go back…"
"Actually," Charlie winced, he'd been hoping to delay talking to them about this, "You will find yourself doing exactly that."
Silence fell.
"What?" Hermione asked faintly.
Charlie sighed softly, "The potion slows the erasure of time. For instance, by coming back this far you might have been de-aged to the point of non-existence, since you weren't protected by the time-turner time-loop. The potion slows this de-aging process physically."
He paused, "But it's not limited to your bodies. Soon you will find yourself sliding back into your hormonal, and mental states as you were when you were children. You will keep your memories but your fitness and magical talent pools will be reset. You'll need to train them up again."
The four looked horrified, but privately Charlie thought it might be a blessing.
The horrors of their world, the traumas they suffered. Soon those would be dulled, almost like a dream and the four would be able to begin living their new life here in this time. They wouldn't forget, but maybe it would take the edge off the pain, and let them live, enjoy the childhood that had been stolen from them the first time around.
"And despite that, like I said, you need connections to this time. You also are 11 years old, physically and magically. You need adults in your corner. And Armand and Genevieve are Malfoys. Malfoys who have longed for a child. Would it be so awful to have Family again?"
Draco's face crumpled slightly, "They're…family. But not my Family."
Ron made a quiet noise of agreement, but Harry and Hermione remained silent.
Charlie glanced at them before turning back to the other two. "I'm sorry. But your Families are gone. It's harsh, but… that is the reality we are living with. They are gone. And these people who take you in will not replace them. But they may help."
Slowly he turned to Harry.
"My son, Gareth, died 2 years ago. Dorea and I kept it quiet, private. We… we could not bear people to know. I believe on the Family Tapestry it simply says that we have a son, not any dates, or name." He swallowed past the lump in his throat, remembering the sweet little boy, and then the memory of holding his son in his arms as he breathed his last rattling breath, taken by Crepundian Pox in Greece.
The devastation of it.
He'd felt like his life was over.
He'd felt…lost. Until the Tempus Orb.
He swallowed again, voice husky and hoarse, "I threw myself into my work. Dorea into this home. You've given me purpose. Something to strive for. And we Potters never shy away from a fight," he smiled at Harry whose eyes were a little brighter and damp, "You lost your parents Harry. We lost a son. We'd never imagine replacing them, just as you cannot replace Gareth. Not truly. But…I welcome you as family. And I will be by your side, and on your side for all of this."
Harry swallowed and nodded, coughing a little in embarrassment as Charlie sat back, feeling weary all of a sudden.
"Well…we have a busy day…hell, a busy week ahead of us," he informed them, trying to lighten the mood once more. "Shall we begin?"
Reviews
ShiaraS46 - Dear Shiara! I'm glad you didn't find the explanations boring, I struggle with them because while I want to explain things, I also don't want to give EVERYTHING or even so much it's overwhelming. So it's good I've got the balance for you so far. And yes, there are still fracture lines among the four, which will of course cause friction over time, but right now they're united. We'll see how long that lasts...
Lucy Elizabeth Dawson - I'm glad you liked the start. Hopefully you'll equally enjoy the continuation.
amk41196 - Can't wait for the continuation? Let me help you with that!