QL, Wigtown Wanderers, Beater 1, Round 10.

Theme: Soapies - Write about a character thought to be 'dead' coming back to life.

Prompts: [Word] Poisonous; [Object] Potion Vial;

THC [Y3], Hufflepuff, Round 6, Year 1, Standard.

Prompt: [Speech] "You didn't hear it from me, but,"

Word Count: 1491

Beta's: Aya, Lynne

Harry was excited and nervous as he waited for the Hogwarts Express to bring his oldest child back from Hogwarts for Christmas. James had been over-excited to attend the infamous school, but would he feel the same after a few months there?

Ginny had wanted to be there more than anything, however, little Lily had come down with a sickness. Harry had promised to bring James back home instantly when he got off the train and that he wouldn't mention his sister's sickness. It was best that James was at home and able to see her when he found out. That information could almost be poisonous to his son. He would worry relentlessly.

The noise around him increased, which alerted him to the presence of the train in the distance. He couldn't wait to hear about all of the adventures that his son got up to at school. The seconds seemed to slow as he continued to wait patiently.

Finally, the train door opened. Children began flooding out of the doors and finding their family members. A flash of bright blue caught his attention and made him smile. Teddy was heading towards him through the crowd with James in tow.

"Welcome back!" he greeted his Godson and son as he pulled them into a hug.

"Thanks!" Teddy beamed before looking around and spotting his guardian. "See you at dinner tomorrow!"

Harry waved goodbye before slinging an arm over his son and leading them towards the exit. "How was Hogwarts?"

James' lips turned upwards into a massive grin. "Even better than you described! It was amazing. Brilliant. Fantastic!"

A laugh left his lips at his sons enthusiasm.

"Where's Mum?"

"Waiting to give you a never-ending hug at home," Harry answered ruffling his son's hair. "Ready?" he asked as they reached an apparition spot.

James nodded confidently and took a deep breath. "Let's go home."

Harry was still grinning as he overheard his oldest sons energetic stories from his times at Hogwarts. The eleven-year-old was currently telling Albus about what he had learnt and what to expect when he'd join Hogwarts. Harry just hoped none of the stories involved getting into trouble.

He opened his son's trunk to start clearing it out and furrowed his brows. Why did James bring back empty potion vials? Potions wasn't one of the subjects he anticipated his son loving—perhaps there were things about his oldest he didn't know.

Harry picked up the books James brought back and took them over to the bookshelf where he could overhear the stories.

"That's so cool!" Albus reacted.

"And…" James paused, looking over to where Ginny was cooking. "You didn't hear it from me, but I heard that Voldemort has returned! That Dad didn't really kill him!"

"James Sirius Potter!" Harry boomed making both of his sons jump. "Go to your room."

James quickly jumped to his feet and ran up the stairs. Harry had never shouted at him that way before.

After composing himself and assuring Ginny everything was okay, he ascended the staircase to his son's bedroom. Harry closed the bedroom door silently before crossing the room and sitting on the bed beside him. "Why were you telling your brother stories like that?"

"They weren't stories, Dad. I was told he wasn't dead."

"Who told you?"

James shook his head. "I promised I wouldn't say. You can't tell anybody I told you; he'd be really mad."

Harry sighed. "James. I think your friend was lying. Voldemort is dead. He isn't coming back and he can't hurt anybody. You'll give your brother nightmares if you tell him otherwise."

"What if he was back."

"He's not."

James sighed. "I didn't lie. Somebody told me."

"That person lied," Harry replied confidently, smoothing his son's hair.

James ran his own hands through the messy black hair. "Dad," he complained. "Not the hair."

Harry raised his hands in a mock-surrender. "Okay. Finish emptying out your trunk." James groaned. "And keep those vials away from your sister."

"Why? They're not poisonous or anything," he muttered as he pulled the door open and sauntered out.

"No, but they are glass," he called after him. Harry shook his head and sighed. He hadn't anticipated his son being lied to in that way or even that James would believe such nonsense. Perhaps he should send an owl to the Headmistress to inform her of what was happening.

A year and a half had passed without any more talk of Voldemort. Things seemed normal. That was one thing Harry missed out on during his childhood: normalcy. Even his extremely normal Aunt and Uncle hadn't provided him with a normal upbringing. Because of that, he would ensure his children had a secure, nurturing, safe, and traditional childhood.

His sons had just come home from Hogwarts, James completing his second year and Albus his first.

The two of them were connecting again. They had drifted apart in recent years so Harry was glad to see them back together as brothers.

The light glinted off something in Al's hand. It didn't take Harry long to realise it was a potion vial. His mind went back to James' bringing some back last year. However, this time, there was a grey-ish green liquid in the vial. What potion could it be? Harry didn't want to alarm them but made it his mission to find out what it was. He took a few steps back before letting out a cough and walking over to them. As he predicted Albus hid the vial. What the younger boy didn't realise was that his father watched exactly where he hid it—under the cushion.

"Hey, boys," he said, pretending to look around secretively. "You didn't hear it from me, but I hear your mum is making brownies!"

Instant glee erupted onto their faces as they raced each other out of the room towards the kitchen. Without hesitation, Harry went over to the couch and picked up the vial. There was no label on it and the potion was still bubbling—that wasn't a good sign in his opinion.

Harry trusted his sons, he truly did, however, he couldn't help but be suspicious. After a few seconds, he decided that the best action would be to simply ask Al what the potion was and why he brought it home.

He hid the potion vial in the palm of his hand as he walked to the kitchen. With a small smile he took in the moment of all three of his children sitting patiently at the table while his wife served up her famous freshly baked brownies—it was a family recipe.

"Before the brownies, can one of you boys explain why you brought back a potion vial?"

James shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Supplies for the future."

Albus, unfortunately for him, had never mastered lying. "Uh… yeah."

"Are they all empty?" Harry prompted.

The youngest of the brothers looked highly alarmed and James' cool demeanor remained mostly intact. "Are we allowed potions in the house?" the oldest son asked.

"Not when your mother and I don't know about them."

"Then nope, they're all empty," James replied confidently.

Harry revealed the potion vial. "Care to explain this?"

"It's not mine! I'm holding it for a friend!" Albus blurted, his breathing increasing in pace.

"Is it dangerous?"

Albus shook his head far too quickly for Harry's liking. Carefully, he examined both of his sons one at a time, looking for any indication that he could either trust that answer or not. Harry, in a moment of impulsiveness, opened the vial challengingly.

"Not dangerous at all?"

"Close it, Dad! Close it!" Albus shouted as James jumped up and grabbed the potion from his hands. Some of it spilt out and even his oldest son wasn't able to hide his apprehension.

"What is it?"

"Is it poisonous?" Ginny chimed in, quickly grabbing a cloth and her wand to clean up the mess.

"No! It's not poisonous. It's a summoning potion!" Albus cried, the panic evident in his voice. "We weren't going to use it!"

James was holding his hand over the top of the vial but was visibly shaking. "I'm sorry!"

Now Harry was getting worried. Summoning who? Why were his children so scared? Why was James apologising?

All became clear as Voldemort Apparated a few feet from him and his family. He was back. Alive. Standing in front of him.

"I knew you would come to my side, James," Voldemort lulled, a wand in his hand.

"How?"

"Your sons are very helpful. Letting me through the barriers and summoning me when you're at your weakest."

"Reducto!" Ginny cried.

Voldemort blocked the hit effortlessly.

Harry reached for his wand before remembering he no longer carried it on him all the time. He launched himself across the table to grab his children and get them to safety. The last thing he saw was tears running down his children's terrified faces. The last thing he heard was 'Avada Kedavra.'