Disclaimer and other notes can be found in the first chapter of the story.

This is the final chapter. Thanks for tuning in.

–– CHAPTER THREE ––
Coniungere

"And you."

I blink, and then blink again as I realise that Harry's attention is suddenly on me. He cocks his head a little, his eyes never leaving mine.

"You've yet to say much of anything, Potter," he says, and while his tone is not quite as harsh as it was when directed at Mum and Dad, his gaze has not faltered. "What's your stake in this?"

I raise my hands in what I hope might look like a gesture of peace.

"I haven't got a stake in this," I tell him. "I didn't think you'd be happy to see us … or me, really. I'm only here because they asked me to be."

I sincerely doubt Mum and Dad would want me to say such things. But, really, being honest is all I can do now. After everything that I've heard today, after everything Harry has said and hinted at, the last thing I want to do is hurt him further, even if just by lying to him.

Harry raises his eyebrows at my words, and it's all I can do not to flinch.

"Or you, really?" he echoes. To my surprise, he sounds a little confused. "You were so sure I had a grudge against you?"

I blink. "Er, yeah, I was."

"Potter," he says slowly, "did you even know we were brothers?"

"Not – not back then, at Hogwarts."

Harry nods, as though he expected this.

"Why would I have an issue with you, then?" he asks me. "Even if you'd known, it's not as though you could've done anything with it."

"But – but I –" I stop short and try again. "I could have reached out to you, couldn't I have? We were at Hogwarts together for years. You didn't leave until after fourth year, with – with Tracey, right? I could have done –"

"No, you couldn't have."

He sounds so certain of this that I give up trying to argue it and wait for him to speak.

"For starters," says Harry, "we were Sorted into not only two different houses, but the most different and conflicting two houses possible. Second, even if you and I could've dealt with that at the time, and that's a hell of an 'if' when we were kids, you wouldn't have known by looking at me that we were brothers."

"I – what?" My brief flashback to seeing him and Tracey at Hogwarts springs to mind again. "I mean, I remember not really noticing you, and that sure confuses me, but I – I thought it was just so long ago …"

That sounds silly even to me now that I say it out loud.

Harry lets the awkward moment pass.

"Let me tell you something, Potter," he says, and I can see a faraway look in his eyes. "Did you know that Professor Dumbledore himself gave me my Hogwarts letter?" He smiles, and the difference in the expression between now and twenty minutes ago is striking. "Rhetorical question, of course. He's the one who reintroduced me to the wizarding world. He told me about magic, and Hogwarts, and all of you. He had to, he said, since you would be going to Hogwarts as well, in the same year as me." He shakes his head almost ruefully. "I would've never imagined I even had a living brother, never mind a twin.

"It was my decision, in the end, to hide myself from you all. I didn't want to know you, deal with you, not after learning that after all – after living with the Dursleys, you'd been around all that time. Of course, that wouldn't be avoidable if I came to Hogwarts looking exactly like you, give or take a few inches or pounds. So, Dumbledore cast a charm on me."

"What did this charm do?" I ask, though I think I can already guess.

Harry raises his hand and flicks it at the house, and a moment later a wand of what looks to be the same holly wood as my own flies into it.

From the corner of my eye, I can see Mum and Dad flinch.

"Oh, relax," he says coolly. "If I was going to do anything to you, I already would have."

Surprisingly, this seems to settle them. Dad looks like he wants to speak, but the hard look in Harry's eyes has not lessened for him, and he doesn't.

Then, before anyone can react, Harry points his wand at himself.

My instincts nearly propel me out of my seat; only knowing that this is following a discussion about the charm Dumbledore used on him keeps me seated. That, I suppose, and knowing that Harry wouldn't be impressed if I interrupted him.

He performs a wand movement I've never seen before, and mutters something I can't quite hear.

And, before my eyes, he changes completely.

I couldn't describe it if I wanted to. It's bizarre to even look at him now. I see his face and all else of him that I could before, and yet I can't quite work out what I'm seeing. His hair looks brown, I suppose, and he has eyes, but I can barely focus on them, let alone note any colour or shape.

This is what the charm does, then.

"It makes its target nondescript to people who don't know who he or she is," says Harry, as though completing my thought. "Nobody I know of who even knows of the spell can perform it on Professor Dumbledore's level, but that's my closest attempt at it. Did you find it tough to even keep your eyes on me?"

"Er, yeah."

Harry nods. "It isn't supposed to go that far. It didn't when Dumbledore cast it on me."

I glance back over. The indecipherable features are fading away, and the twin visage of my brother is soon back in full, unfiltered view.

"Anyway," he says, setting down his wand, "you wouldn't notice distinct things about me. You could still interact with me, of course, but otherwise I would sort of just be in the periphery, and all you would really note of me is simply that I was there." He scratches his chin. "It's one of Professor Dumbledore's own inventions, and I think he designed it to work sort of like the Fidelius Charm. At least, I assume he did. Those who know about the disguised target are not able to tell anyone who doesn't, and I've no other explanation as to why."

I don't even know what to say. I've never heard of such spellwork. Yet I've seen it with my own eyes, here and now, and it certainly explains why the faceless Harry Evans from early on in my Hogwarts years actually was, in fact, faceless to me.

And all of that because Harry didn't want us to even know he was there back then …

"Did you live with this charm on you for all four years?" I ask, mostly to keep that thought in check.

Harry shakes his head. "Nah, just at Hogwarts. I had it taken off for good after I left. I was going with Tracey to stay with her parents, and we weren't going to be around many witches and wizards due to all the stuff with Voldemort being back, so Maura removed it for me."

"Maura?"

"Me mam," says Tracey.

Harry briefly glances at Mum and Dad, who have been sitting silently and drinking in all that's said and shown since Harry cast the charm, before his gaze returns to me.

"So, Voldemort has gone, hasn't he?"

I start. "Sorry?"

He cocks his head. "Voldemort's dead, for real this time, isn't he?" he says. "I don't actively follow the goings-on of the wizarding world anymore, but I doubt you Potters would be out here for a reason this casual if the Death Eaters were still active as a group."

Casual. Merlin's beard. I can practically feel Mum tensing, the clenching of Dad's fingers.

"Er, that's right," I reply. "He's gone for good, that is. There are still a handful of Death Eaters out there, but the ones we know of from Voldemort's inner circle either died in the final battle or got thrown in Azkaban."

A look of what could be approval makes itself known for a quick beat in Harry's otherwise expressionless gaze.

"He died at your hand, then?"

The wording isn't lost on me.

"He technically died at his own hand," I admit, "but he did die because of me, yes."

If Harry notices how carefully I reply, he doesn't comment. "Cheers," is all he says. "So, if you in particular are here at all, and if you're anything like me, I assume you're here in part out of curiosity?"

"I – I reckon so," I say, a bit bewildered. I never expected Harry to really notice me unless it was from dislike, and yet here we are, having an actual conversation …

I can feel Tracey's assessing eyes on me as we speak, and I'm suddenly very, very glad that I didn't say or do anything to indicate my initial interest in her. She's good-looking, there's no denying that, but she's Harry's. Hitting on his wife, even unknowingly, would have soiled any chance I had of making a good first impression.

"I always wanted a brother or sister when I was younger," I admit, firmly keeping my eyes away from Mum and Dad. I don't really want to scapegoat them, but … "I never thought I'd get that chance."

I meet Harry's eyes again. He seems to be sizing me up. He looks away, meets Tracey's eyes for a few seconds, and then looks at me again.

"All right, then," he says simply.

I blink. "A-All right, then?" I repeat.

Harry nods. "We don't have a Floo, of course," he says, "but I would assume you know how to Apparate. Just make sure you appear out of sight when you do – there are Muggles in nearby cottages, some of whom are friends of ours, and that's not a conversation I want to have with –"

"Hang on," I interrupt, my mind catching up with him, "back up a moment. You're inviting me back?"

It's apparently Harry's turn to blink a bit at me.

"You want a chance for us to be brothers, don't you?" he says.

"Yes, of course, I do."

"Here it is, then."

It's a flippant reply, but it's more than I ever expected.

"We only have a few grounds rules." Harry raises his hand and starts ticking off fingers one by one. "One, bring your own alcohol if you want any, as we go through our own quickly when we have it. Two, don't bring people along with you without our permission. Three, if you must tell others about us, at least don't tell them where to find us. All clear?"

Truthfully, I'm still mostly back at Harry actually giving me a standing invitation to come back and see him and his wife, but I don't hesitate to nod at him anyway.

"Alcohol is first on that list?" I find myself saying.

Harry laughs. It sounds so much like my own that I feel the rest of the lingering tension in my shoulders dissipate.

The tension remains off of me as I shake his hand when we get up to leave, Tracey offering me the slightest of smiles. He says nothing else to Mum and Dad, neither of whom meet his eye as they turn and walk back to the car.

Nor do they wait. As I finish saying my goodbyes, I look around and see them driving away.

"Tough luck, that," Harry says glibly, his eyebrows raised as he watches the car drive off.

I shrug. "It's probably for the best," I say. "I imagine it's going to be a long, uncomfortable drive. I'd rather Apparate home."

Harry nods. "See you around, then, Potter."

I meet his eyes first this time. "You can both call me Jaime."

Tracey replies to this first. "All right, Jaime."

Harry looks a bit taken aback, but he quickly recovers himself and nods. "I suppose I should, if we're going to properly try out this whole brother thing," he says. "If you're planning on Disapparating, do it from inside."

"I will."

He smiles a bit tightly. "See you, then, Jaime."

"See you both."

I turn around as I step inside their house and stare out at them. They're already heading back to the beach, looking for all the world like another couple enjoying the warm weather.

That's probably even true. For all I know, with what I witnessed today, this is already out of their minds for now, in the way I know it won't be out of Mum's and Dad's for some time. It isn't so easy to let go of anger – I know that better than many, between all my dealings with both the Ministry and the Death Eaters – but it can certainly be compartmentalised.

It might be that Mum and Dad won't be able to reconcile with Harry. It might be far too late for that.

I'm not entirely sure I believe that, even with everything Harry has made abundantly clear to us today. It's impossible to forget how cold he was at the peak of it all, but this is the first time he's met us after years of having to deal with all this mostly alone, so that's certainly understandable. Still, following Tracey's lead, I'll not try to speak for Harry on all that.

Someday, perhaps, when enough time has passed and more conversations have been had – because there's no way Mum and Dad will give up after one afternoon, unpleasant though it was for them – they may work it out enough to have at least some connection with Harry.

There's a lot to unravel. A lot of assumptions they'll need to drop, and explanations they'll need to give.

There's a hell of a lot for Harry to forgive, if that's even possible now and, of course, if he would ever even want to. At the end of the day, it was he who was given up and – I can feel my fingers clenching tightly at the thought – abused by those people who raised him, whom I will never again think of even passively as relatives.

That's all between my parents and Harry, though.

For now, for me, it's enough that I've got a chance to know the brother I never knew, he and his wife both.

I don't intend to waste it.