Music for writing : Bury a Friend - Bilie Eilish
Harry woke up with a start, violently pulled from sleep by shrill screams coming from the hallway. He recognized the voice of Lady Black, Sirius's mother, whose portrait erupted in rage every time it was disturbed. He heard Remus's voice ordering the curtains to be drawn over the painting. The screams faded, and silence enveloped Harry. He strained his ears, listening for other sounds and voices.
"He shouldn't be here." Ron's voice cut through the darkness, and soon, the light of a candle illuminated his face and his messy red hair. He sat up in the bed next to Harry's.
"Remus. Bill told me he was on a spy mission among the werewolves."
"I know."
The infiltration mission was crucial; Remus wouldn't have left that position without good reason. The hair on Harry's neck stood on end, sensing danger.
The bedroom door opened slightly, and they saw Hermione slip into the room, barefoot, followed by Ginny.
"Remus is back," Hermione whispered.
"We heard," said Ron.
"He's not alone." Ginny was holding a pair of Extendable Ears, a gift from her twin brothers before they left Hogwarts to start their joke shop.
"Did he come with other Aurors?" Harry asked, putting on his glasses.
"No, teenagers. But I've never seen them at Hogwarts."
Harry and Ron exchanged a look, then jumped out of their beds and rushed out of the room, ignoring the girls' whispers to be quieter.
They stationed themselves at the top of the stairs, leaning dangerously over the railing overlooking the ground floor. Muffled voices reached them from the kitchen, including Molly Weasley's.
"Is Mum crying?" Ron asked, his face draining of color.
"No, I don't think so," murmured Ginny, anxiously. "But she seems upset."
A piece of bad news, perhaps? A death? Fear crept over them. Arthur Weasley was barely recovered from his injuries. They all feared another tragedy.
Ginny was about to set up the Extendable Ears when the kitchen door opened abruptly. The teenagers leaned over the railing, trying to catch a glimpse of the kitchen entrance.
A young red-haired girl stepped out, followed by a tall young man with auburn hair, a shorter, stockier redhead, and a black-haired boy at the back. They all wore dirty, torn clothes, with leaves and mud in their hair. Dust and dried earth clung to their arms and faces. They looked exhausted.
Molly Weasley followed them, wringing her hands nervously, struggling to contain a tremor.
"The bathroom is on the second floor," she said.
"We know," murmured the young redhead.
"Oh! Yes, of course, you know." To Harry's surprise, Mrs. Weasley gently patted the red-haired girl's head, and the girl responded with an affectionate smile. "Go on up; you need to clean up a bit! We'll find you some clothes."
Mrs. Weasley climbed the stairs briskly, the unknown teenagers following her. When she spotted the pajama-clad teens waiting firmly at the top of the stairs, she sighed in exasperation:
"You should be asleep!"
"Who are they?" Harry asked firmly, pointing to the little group following her.
The tall auburn-haired boy looked surprised to see him, his whole body freezing so that the red-haired girl bumped into him as she climbed the stairs. He studied Harry for a moment, as if transfixed by a vision, then his mouth formed a sad smile. Next to him, the black-haired boy kept his head down, almost turning away from Harry's gaze. The red-haired girl's eyes sparkled with curiosity, her gaze moving from one to the other, lingering on Hermione, then returning to Harry. Her entire face was alight with enthusiasm that she could barely contain. The stocky redhead was smiling, too, almost laughing inwardly, his round face illuminated by a secret, jovial mood.
"Mrs. Weasley, who are they?" Harry repeated.
"We'll talk about it tomorrow!" she replied wearily and turned to the ragged group, pointing to the bathroom. "Go on, there are clean towels on the dresser."
The tallest boy motioned gallantly for the red-haired girl to go into the bathroom first, and she entered without a word.
Mrs. Weasley made her way through them, nudging Ron aside.
"Let me through; I need to get some clothes from your room."
"Clothes? OUR clothes?" Ron protested.
Mrs. Weasley didn't respond. She opened the wardrobe wide and took out trousers, T-shirts, and sweaters.
"These should do; we'll get more clothes tomorrow morning."
"Mum, those are our clothes!" Ginny exclaimed.
"I know, dear. They'll fit just fine! Don't be childish!"
Ron turned to Harry, arms in the air, mumbling that his mother was losing her mind.
Remus appeared at the top of the stairs, frowning when he saw Harry and the other night-watchers. He greeted them with a brief nod, then pointed to the door at the other end of the hallway.
"You can take that room," he said to the three boys. "It's not in use, but we got rid of the vermin."
The auburn-haired boy grimaced at the name on the door, but the black-haired one entered without hesitation. Harry moved closer to get a glimpse of the room he'd never visited, with Hermione close behind. He saw heavy, carved wooden furniture, a dusty, long-neglected bed with sheets stiffened by dust, emerald green drapes, and silver objects.
A Slytherin den, Harry thought, only dirtier.
The black-haired stranger was staring at the Black family crest carved into the wood above the headboard, with the motto "Toujours pur" engraved beneath it. He seemed to hesitate, then respectfully placed his hand on the cracked varnish.
"I think it's Sirius's brother's room," Remus explained, a hint of sadness in his voice. "If you need me to transfigure one of the pieces into a bed…"
"No," interrupted the auburn-haired boy, whom Harry identified as the "Leader." "This room probably hasn't been touched since its owner died. We'll sleep on the floor."
Behind him, the redhead groaned in frustration. The young man turned to him and murmured, "You know we have to change as little as possible."
"They're just pieces of furniture! At this point…"
The black-haired boy suddenly stormed out of the room, his body tense, his jaw clenched, making Harry step back. Something in his eyes paralyzed him.
"What's wrong with you?" he snapped at the redhead. "You come here, and you don't touch anything, got it?"
"No one asked you!" retorted the redhead.
The "Leader" stepped between them.
"That's enough, both of you. We'll put blankets on the floor."
"In this grime?" groaned the redhead, but at the glare from the "Leader," he relented, shoving the green-eyed boy as he entered the room.
"He looks a lot like you, Harry," Hermione whispered. "The one with the green eyes."
When the boy noticed Harry watching him, he turned away.
Yes, he knew those green eyes; they were his!
"Remus, who are they?" he asked, a hint of irritation in his voice. The situation was fraying his nerves.
"I can't say, Harry."
"I can't stand your secrets. You already did this last year. You know Sirius was right; we have a right to know."
"This has nothing to do with You-Know-Who."
"Nothing to do with Voldemort?" he repeated, not understanding.
It was ridiculous; everything in this world had to do with Voldemort. His own existence seemed tragically linked to that monster, even though he found the thought unbearable. Voldemort was his past, his parents' murderer; he wore him as a scar on his face, he was a memory in the eyes of everyone he met, and one day, he sensed, he would have to face him.
"No," Remus said, pulling him from his thoughts. "They have their own mission, and the best thing is for you to leave them alone. Until Dumbledore finds a solution. I have to go; I'm expected 100 miles away, and I can't get there by flying or Apparating, how annoying!"
He grabbed the boy's shoulders and made him look at him.
"Listen to me, Harry, no matter who they are. Dumbledore will come soon to take them elsewhere. Until then, keep your distance, okay?" He turned to Sirius's brother's room. "You too," he said firmly.
The "Leader," who was watching the scene from the doorway, nodded gravely.
Remus released Harry's shoulders, affectionately smiled at him, and took his leave with a friendly wave to the teenagers.
The "Leader" watched Remus leave, a deep melancholy seeming to settle over him as he watched the former professor. When he descended the stairs, he leaned over the railing to watch him leave, observing as he greeted Molly Weasley with a look of sadness mixed with curiosity. He broke from his gray reverie only when the front door slammed shut.
He cast a quick glance at Harry and turned toward Sirius's brother's room.
But Ginny, who had stayed quiet until then, joined him at the door.
"Hey!" she said bluntly, grabbing his arm. "No nonsense—who are you?"
The boy looked at the hand holding his arm, and when he looked at the girl, his face broke into a big smile that annoyed Harry.
"Too stubborn to listen to adult warnings,"he commented with amusement, pulling his arm free. "That's what my mother often tells me." His smile widened, and he leaned towards Ginny as if to whisper a secret: "I think it suits you too."
"She asked you a question," Harry growled, joining them, flanked by Hermione and Ron.
The boy rolled his tongue in his cheek, as if the question was terribly complicated, weighing his response as he looked from one to the other.
"We're not your enemies," he finally said.
"I figured, otherwise Remus wouldn't have brought you here. But that doesn't answer our question."
The black-haired boy suddenly appeared by his side.
"Maybe because we don't have to answer!" he snapped.
The "Leader" sighed and rolled his eyes, turning to his companion with a disapproving look. The boy ignored him.
"You're in my house," Harry insisted, clenching his fists. "Sirius left me this house."
"And are you going to kick us out?" the black-haired boy sneered, sizing him up.
A familiar sensation ran down Harry's spine as a knot formed in his stomach—the same feeling that Malfoy evoked in him, the urge to punch him.
"I could, yes!" he retorted, more bravado than seriousness.
The boy let out a bitter laugh.
"Then do it. I don't want to be here; I wouldn't be if I had a choice."
"Albus, calm down," said the redhead behind him. "We're here for our protection."
Albus, an uncommon name, Harry thought.
"We're trapped!" the green-eyed boy spat, turning to face him. "Helpless and useless, waiting for Dumbledore to find a solution."
Harry remembered hearing those same words months ago from Sirius. The wound in his chest reopened.
"Maybe we can help you?" Hermione suggested soothingly, trying to diffuse the tension.
The redhead seemed to hesitate at the sight of her.
"Yes, maybe—"
"No thanks!" the black-haired boy cut in, still biting.
"They can help us, Albus!"
"He's right," the Leader told the redhead. "It's better not to say anything."
"Dumbledore talked to Remus," the redhead insisted.
"Yes, but that's irrelevant for reasons you know. But Remus should never have mentioned us to... Molly and Arthur."
"For God's sake, at least give us your names!" Ron demanded from behind the group, exasperated and visibly exhausted.
"Albus," Harry said, pointing at him. "And you two?"
The "Leader" remained impassive, but Harry caught the black-haired boy shaking his head out of the corner of his eye.
"Hugo and James," the redhead interjected, and his voice was almost drowned out by the sound of the black-haired boy punching the wall. Everyone jumped.
"Well, it's been a pleasure," the boy said, visibly furious, his hand reddened from the impact. "I'm going to bed." He fixed his gaze on Harry. "So if you're planning to kick me out, do it now!"
He didn't wait for a response and kicked the door before disappearing into the room. The Leader motioned for Hugo to follow him, and he did.
"We'll talk tomorrow," Harry said, staring at the Leader.
James smiled and shook his head.
"No, I don't think so. Good night."
And he shut the door.
Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron found themselves alone in the hallway. On their way back to their room, they struggled to contain their frustration.
"This is ridiculous, I'm in my own house; Dumbledore should tell me what's going on!"
"That guy," Ron groaned, "that 'Albus'? Albus what? What a git!"
"Yeah, he's like that sometimes,"said a voice behind them.
They all turned as one, and saw the red-haired girl emerging from the bathroom, wearing Ginny's pajamas, her long, damp hair reaching down to the small of her back.
She smiled softly at them. "Did they give you their names?" She shook her head, still smiling. "That's not very smart." Her face grew serious. "Don't take it the wrong way, we don't want to bother you, we just want to go home."
"But where is home?" Ginny asked.
The redhead turned her gaze to Hermione, waiting until she had her full attention, then said slowly, "Home is here. It's here and elsewhere." She smiled again, waved as she walked toward Black's room. "Good night."
They entered their room, and Ron dropped heavily onto his bed.
"Home is here and elsewhere?"he repeated. "What the hell does that mean?"
"It doesn't mean anything; she's probably trying to confuse us," Ginny said, closing the wardrobe doors their mother had left open.
Harry watched Hermione, who stood by the door without moving, her face tense with concentration.
"Hermione, are you okay?"
"Hmm," the young girl replied, snapping out of her reverie. "Yes, yes, I'm fine. I'm just thinking."
Harry knew his friend well enough to see she'd just figured out something important, and she knew that he knew. So he waited for her to speak.
"I think..." she began. "I think we shouldn't ask any more questions."
"What are you talking about?" Ginny asked.
"It's absurd—these strangers show up, and we're not supposed to ask anything?" Ron said.
Hermione pointed to the door and lowered her voice conspiratorially, her tone filled with a newfound urgency.
"The girl. That girl, she... She was trying to tell me something. And if I'm right, we shouldn't approach them. Or ask any questions."
"What do you know, Hermione?" Harry asked patiently, though his concern was growing.
"I don't know anything, but I believe... Harry, don't you see how much the youngest boy looks like you?"
"Albus the 'git'?" Ron asked.
"It's true, Harry," Ginny murmured, blushing. "He's practically your double."
"And that name, 'Albus'! Only one person has that name, and that person is important to you," Hermione continued. "It's a name with meaning, a name... that you'd want to pass on."
Harry felt his heart skip a beat, but he stayed silent.
"I don't know how it happened," Hermione said desperately, "but I think they're your children, or maybe... our children. Or the children of some of us."
"What you're saying makes no sense," Ron protested. "That kind of time travel is impossible."
"It's not impossible, Ron! Forbidden and extremely dangerous, yes, but unfortunately not impossible. I can't see any other explanation. That's why they won't tell us anything, and why Molly is so affectionate with them even though they're strangers. Why their home is here and elsewhere."
Harry felt as if his entire body was turning to stone, frozen in place, with a hollow in his chest where his heart was beating wildly, buzzing in his ears. Every part of him was screaming that this was impossible.
"Harry," Ron exclaimed, standing to face his friend. "If you have children, that means we succeeded. We defeated Voldemort!"
Harry couldn't believe his ears, and despite himself, a sense of relief spread through his entire being.
"How?" Ginny interjected. "They can tell us!"
"No!" Hermione shouted, startling them all. "Well, yes, they might know. But they mustn't say anything. NOTHING! Their very presence is a danger. The future could be altered."
Harry felt the shadow creep over him once more.
"You mean... they could make us LOSE the war by trying to help us win it?"
Hermione nodded slowly.
"And in doing so..." she said, "erase their own existence."
"That sucks," Ginny sighed.
"It's too complicated," Ron said.
"Everything's too complicated for you, Ron," his sister commented, rolling her eyes.
"Wait," Ron said, signaling for silence. "Do you hear that?"
He crossed the room and opened the hallway door. Indistinct voices and the sound of objects being knocked over reached them.
"I think they're fighting," Hermione said.
"I think so too," Ron agreed.
Ginny climbed onto the bed and scrambled onto the headboard to reach the vent grille, yanking it out of its recess with all her strength.
"What are you doing?" Ron asked as he watched his sister toss the grille onto the floor and jump back onto the mattress.
"This air duct goes through all the rooms on this floor! Hermione, send Crookshanks towards their room."
"Oh, Ginny, I don't think we should..."
"I've got him," Ron said, returning from the hallway with the cat.
Ginny attached an Extendable Eye to Crookshanks's right paw and an Extendable Ear around his neck. She climbed back onto the bed and took the cat from her brother. She gently petted him, kissing his fluffy head.
"You're going towards the noise, and you'll get a treat, or a rat, okay? Good Crookshanks."
She placed the cat in the duct and waited for him to disappear around the corner before climbing down. She sat next to Ron and Harry, who were watching the image captured by the Extendable Eye projected onto a small square mirror.
Hermione looked at them with concern.
"Stop making that face, Hermione," Harry said. "We're just going to see what they're up to."
"And if you're right," Ginny added, "we're doing this for their sake. Fighting is wrong."
"I'm sure you'd be great parents," Hermione grumbled, sitting down beside them.
End of Chapter 1