A/N - Okay maybe it is not completely out of my system yet.
Chapter 13 – Back to reality
When they returned from France, life settled into a new kind of rhythm. Amelia began her apprenticeship in the Department of Mysteries, diving into the complex world of magical research. The department was shrouded in secrecy, but she quickly found herself fascinated by the work, especially anything related to time magic and magical artefacts. Harry was not at all surprised.
On her first day, her apprenticeship had begun with little fanfare—a signed contract, a magically binding oath of secrecy, and a simple instruction from her new mentor, Croaker:"Pay attention, ask questions, and don't touch anything unless explicitly told to."
That had been two weeks ago.
Since then, Amelia had spent every day navigating the labyrinthine corridors of the Department, each leading to rooms filled with magic that defied comprehension. Some corridors twisted in impossible directions, leading to different places depending on how you walked them. Some rooms were hidden behind doors that only opened at certain times or when asked the right question. Every day was an exercise in unraveling the mysteries of the world.
Her first task had been simple: observe.
She was assigned to work alongside a team of Unspeakables, shadowing their daily research and cataloging findings. At first, it had been difficult—so much of what they did wasn't just about spells, but about concepts beyond normal magical understanding.
In the Time Chamber, she watched as wizards studied the flow of time itself, experimenting with enchanted hourglasses and temporal displacement spells. She saw one of her colleagues age forward by ten years in a moment, only to be returned to their original state by a carefully measured reversal spell. It was fascinating and terrifying in equal measure.
The Love Chamber was another experience entirely. The very air in the room thrummed with an energy that made her chest tighten, and yet, no one could fully explain why. Love is the most powerful force in the universe, one Unspeakable had told her, but it remains the least understood. Amelia had spent an entire day reading theories, but none could properly capture what she felt when Harry looked at her, or when her children called her 'Mama' for the first time.
The Death Chamber was the most unsettling of all. She had stood before the ancient archway, listening to the whispers beyond the Veil, her heart pounding as though it knew something she did not. Many had walked too close and never returned. She stayed rooted in place, unable to shake the feeling that the voices were calling to her. She had been relieved when Croaker had led her away, cautioning her that curiosity was the first step toward danger in this room.
Despite the complexity of the work, Amelia found herself enthralled.
Croaker had taken a particular interest in her training, which was both an honour and a challenge. She had some of her older self's memories of the friendship that had developed with Croaker and she hoped the same would happened again. He was a brilliant wizard, but cryptic, rarely explaining himself fully. Instead, he asked her endless questions, forcing her to think beyond her textbooks.
"What is the true nature of magic?" he had asked her on her third day.
Amelia had responded with a textbook answer about magical cores and the channeling of energy through wands.
"Wrong," Croaker had said with a smirk.
It had taken her a week to realise that magic wasn't just something used—it was something understood. It wasn't just about spells; it was about intent, emotion, and the very fabric of existence.
By the end of her second week, she had successfully navigated theRoom of Thought, where ideas themselves became tangible. She had held a glowing strand of pure knowledge in her hands, watching as it shifted and changed in response to her thoughts. It had been exhilarating.
When she wasn't buried in research, Amelia spent her evenings at Blackwood Manor, recounting her experiences to Harry. He listened with rapt attention, his curiosity rivalling her own. He had been an Unspeakable in his time and comparing experiences was fascinating to them both.
"You're the only person I know who could spend all day unraveling the secrets of the universe and still come home in time for bedtime stories," Harry teased one night as she curled up beside him.
She laughed, resting her head on his chest. "Well, I have my priorities."
"You always did. The children were and are very lucky." Harry replied offering a genuine smile. "And so am I."
Despite the challenges, she loved her work. It was unlike anything she had ever done, and for the first time, she felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be.
But even as she delved deeper into the mysteries of magic, she couldn't shake the feeling that something big was coming.
Something that would test everything she had learned.
Harry, meanwhile, resumed his double life—splitting his time between preparing for his next year at Hogwarts, training his allies, and monitoring Voldemort's movements. It wasn't long before more attacks were planned.
One evening, just as Amelia arrived home from the Ministry, she found Harry seated at the kitchen table in Blackwood Manor, a map spread before him, pins marking several locations. His jaw was tight, his emerald eyes dark with worry.
She dropped her bag and went to stand behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "What's happened?"
Harry exhaled sharply and gestured to the map. "Coordinated kidnappings. Death Eaters hit three villages last night—two wizarding, one Muggle. The rumour is that more are planned. The Ministry is stretched thin as it is. We need to act."
Amelia nodded, her heart pounding. "Then we call the Order."
That evening, the dining room at Blackwood Manor was full. Members of the Order of the Phoenix gathered around the long table, the air thick with tension. Dumbledore sat at the head, his blue eyes sharp behind his half-moon glasses. Minerva McGonagall sat beside him, her lips pursed in concern.
James Potter and Lily Evans stood near Sirius, the two Marauders whispering in hushed tones. Peter Pettigrew looked uncomfortable but determined, and Remus Lupin observed everything with quiet intensity. Edgar Bones, now a seasoned strategist, was already mapping out potential responses.
"We've all seen the reports," Dumbledore began. "The Death Eaters are growing bolder. We must be ready."
James crossed his arms. "Then let's fight. We're not just going to sit around and wait for them to strike again."
"We won't," Harry said, stepping forward. "But we need strategy, not just force."
Lily turned to him, curiosity in her gaze. She still didn't know who he truly was, but over the past months, she had grown to respect him deeply. "What do you suggest, Lord Blackwood?"
Harry smiled slightly. "For the last time Lily, please, just call me Harry." He pointed to the map. "We split into teams. Defence, intelligence, and rescue. Some of us will guard key locations, others will gather information, and the rest will be ready to extract families from danger."
Sirius grinned. "I like it. Let's hit them before they hit us."
Remus, ever the strategist, nodded. "It's a solid plan. We'll need more wands in the fight."
Dumbledore's gaze swept over the room. "That is why we are expanding our ranks. James, Lily, Remus, Peter—you are all officially members of the Order."
There was a murmur of agreement. James and Lily exchanged a look before nodding. "We're in," James said firmly.
Peter hesitated but finally nodded as well. "Me too."
Harry's eyes flickered to his father. "You should all know what you're getting into. This isn't just some rebellion. This war will cost us all something."
Lily met his gaze steadily. "Then let's make sure it's worth it."
In the weeks that followed, Harry found himself working alongside his parents more and more. James was reckless but brilliant in battle, his duelling skills as sharp as Harry had always imagined. Lily was fierce and methodical, her knowledge of defensive magic rivalling even the best Aurors.
One night, during a mission in a small wizarding village, Harry and James ended up fighting back-to-back against a group of masked Death Eaters. James shot him a grin between spells. "You're not bad, Blackwood."
Harry smirked. "Neither are you, Potter."
A few feet away, Lily and Amelia fought side by side, their combined shields deflecting incoming hexes.
As they fought, Harry realised something—he had come back in time to change history, to save the people he loved. And now, as he stood beside them, he knew he was finally giving himself something he never had before: time with his parents.
And he would do everything in his power to make sure they survived this war.
By mid summer, Voldemort's attacks started to send waves of fear through the wizarding world. The Order of the Phoenix, bolstered by Harry's allies and the new recruits—including James, Lily, Remus, and Peter—found themselves fighting more frequently and with greater urgency.
Each skirmish was more intense than the last. What had once been small, targeted strikes—kidnappings, assassinations, intimidation—had turned into full-scale assaults on villages, government buildings, and homes of those who resisted. The Death Eaters were no longer content with spreading fear; they were waging war.
The first major confrontation happened in early August.
The Order had received intelligence that a group of Death Eaters planned to attack a large magical village near London, targeting the prominent magical families who lived there. James had been livid—his parents still lived there, and while they were powerful witches and wizards, they were no match for a coordinated strike.
"We won't let them touch your family, James," Harry had promised.
They had prepared carefully, using the element of surprise to their advantage. When the Death Eaters arrived, cloaked in shadow and ready to set fire to homes, they were met with fierce resistance.
James, Sirius, and Edgar led the counterattack, their spells cutting through the night like bolts of lightning. Harry fought with a fury Amelia had never seen before, his wand work precise and relentless as he shielded his grandparents' home.
Lily stood by his side, her magic crackling with intensity as she cast defensive wards over the village, reinforcing them every time the Death Eaters tried to break through.
The fight lasted nearly an hour.
Amelia had never seen so much raw, destructive magic unleashed at once. Flashes of green light clashed against golden shields; buildings trembled from the force of conjured explosions. The smell of burning wood and scorched earth filled the air.
In the end, the Order forced the Death Eaters to retreat, but not before they left behind a message—cruel laughter and burning symbols carved into the ground, promising they would return.
James had stood over the ruins of a neighbour's home, his fists clenched. "This is only the beginning," he had said grimly.
And he was right.
The attacks became relentless after that. The next week there was a raid on a small magical town outside of Manchester left half the village in flames. The Order managed to evacuate most of the families, but not without casualties.
Then the week before the wedding, the Ministry itself was attacked. Harry, Amelia, and Edgar had been inside when masked Death Eaters stormed the atrium, throwing curses indiscriminately. It had taken everything in them to push them back.
It was in that fight that Amelia first saw Voldemort himself up close.
He had been standing on the edge of the battle, watching with cold amusement as his followers tore through the defences. Their eyes had met across the chaos, and in that moment, she felt a chill that settled deep in her bones. There was no question—he knew who she was.
And he was watching.
Harry had thrown himself into the fight with single-minded determination, pushing their enemies back with magic so powerful it made the very air hum with energy.
When it was over, when Voldemort had finally disappeared into the shadows and the Ministry stood battered but intact, Harry had pulled Amelia close, his grip tight with barely restrained emotion.
"Are you alright?" His voice was rough, laced with worry.
"I'm fine," she had assured him, though her hands were still shaking. "But he knows, Harry. He knows who I am. He thinks I'm a threat."
Harry's jaw tightened. "Then we'll make sure he never gets the chance to use that against you."
Exhaustion settled over the Order, but they fought on. The once small, ragtag group had grown. More witches and wizards had joined, some from the Ministry, some from old families who refused to bow to Voldemort.
Every battle, every confrontation, felt like a test.
But despite everything, they held the line.
For every village attacked, there was one defended.
For every life lost, there were more willing to stand and fight.
And for every whispered fear of darkness, there was an unshaken belief that they could still win.
That they would win.
O – o – o - o
The last Friday in August, Harry, Amelia, and the children arrived at their villa in France, the salty breeze welcoming them as they stepped through the doors. The house was grand yet inviting, bathed in warm sunlight that streamed through the open windows. It should have felt perfect. It was perfect. But Harry could sense the tension in Amelia's posture, the way she kept glancing toward the horizon as if her mind was elsewhere.
"You seem worried, Amelia." Harry pulled her into his arms, brushing a soft kiss against her forehead. "What's on your mind?"
She sighed, resting her hands on his chest. "It just doesn't feel like the right time to be going away, with everything going on. The war, the attacks, Voldemort gaining more ground—"
"I know," he murmured, pressing another kiss to her temple. "But Dumbledore and the ministry can handle things for a weekend. Everything will still be there when we get back. We need this, love. If we don't take time to recharge and enjoy life, we'll be overwhelmed—and that's when we make mistakes. We fight to have a future, right? This is part of that future."
Amelia bit her lip, considering his words. "You're right," she admitted after a moment. "Despite everything, I have been looking forward to this weekend—time with our friends, marrying you, becoming your wife."
"Hmm," Harry smirked, his arms tightening around her waist. "Lady Blackwood does have a nice ring to it."
She laughed, leaning into him as he captured her lips in a slow, lingering kiss, pouring every ounce of love and devotion into it.
A throat cleared behind them, breaking the moment.
They turned to find Edgar stepping out of the fireplace, his very pregnant wife beside him, looking amused.
"Please, don't stop on our account," Edgar teased. "We can all leave and come back in an hour if you need a moment."
Harry chuckled, Amelia rolling her eyes as she moved to greet her brother.
Soon after, the others arrived—Sirius and Marlene, Remus and Peter, followed by Narcissa and Severus, whose joint arrival was a pleasant surprise. Then McGonagall stepped through with an amused smile, and lastly, James and Lily.
An hour later, the children were the first to rush outside, squealing with delight as they ran toward the beach. Harry and Amelia followed, walking hand in hand, the feeling of sand between their toes grounding them in the moment.
"This was a brilliant idea," Amelia murmured, watching their family and friends spread out along the shoreline, laughter and conversation filling the air.
Harry squeezed her hand. "It's a small piece of normalcy before everything changes. We deserve this."
The afternoon was spent basking in the sun, playing in the waves, and building sandcastles with the children.
Sirius and James had somehow turned beach volleyball into a full-contact sport, their competitive nature shining through as they repeatedly tackled each other into the sand.
Lily and Marlene lounged under an umbrella, sipping fruity cocktails and making bets on which of their idiot boyfriends would get a bloody nose first.
McGonagall, to everyone's amusement, had charmed a beach chair to float just above the sand, watching over them like an exasperated yet fond guardian.
Even Severus, though hesitant at first, ended up being dragged into a water fight by Narcissa and the children. The sight of him drenched and glaring half-heartedly at a laughing Narcissa was one Harry wished he could frame.
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, a massive bonfire was built in the centre of the beach, flames crackling as they all gathered around on blankets and loungers. Butterbeer, firewhiskey, and Sirius's smuggled Muggle beer were passed around freely.
Lily sat with Amelia and Marlene, discussing wedding details while McGonagall listened, occasionally adding dry remarks that had them all laughing.
Nearby, Narcissa and Severus sat with the children, the two of them watching over them with surprising ease.
Sirius, clearly in his element, was loudly retelling one of his grand adventures—one that, according to Remus, was at least seventy percent fabricated.
"I swear on my life, Moony, the dragon was this close to singeing my eyebrows off," Sirius declared, gesturing wildly with his bottle.
Harry chuckled from where he sat beside James, stretching his legs toward the fire. "I'm starting to think you have a death wish, Padfoot."
"Nah," James grinned. "He just has an ego the size of a dragon."
Sirius clutched his chest dramatically. "You wound me, Prongs."
"You'll live," Remus drawled.
As the night deepened, the group relaxed into easy conversation, the tension of war forgotten, if only for a little while.
Harry watched Amelia, bathed in firelight, laughing freely in a way he hadn't seen in weeks. He tucked the moment away in his heart, determined to hold onto it.
o - o -o - o
The next morning, as the sun rose over the sparkling water, Harry found James and Lily walking along the shore.
Taking a deep breath, he made his way over. "Mind if I join you?"
"Of course not," Lily said with a warm smile.
"What's on your mind, mate?" James asked, his tone light but curious.
Harry hesitated. He had played this moment out in his head countless times, yet now that it was here, he felt oddly vulnerable.
"There's something I need to tell you both," he said finally. "Something important."
James and Lily exchanged a glance before nodding. "Go on," James said.
Harry exhaled slowly, looking out at the horizon before meeting their gazes. "I'm not who you think I am."
Lily frowned slightly "What do you mean?"
Harry swallowed. "My real name isn't Hector Blackwood. It's Harry. Harry James Potter."
James' eyes narrowed in confusion. "That's my name."
"I know," Harry said softly. "It's because I was named after you. I am your son. From the future."
Silence.
Lily's grip tightened around James' hand, her emerald eyes widening. "What?"
James just stared at him, his usually quick wit failing him.
"I know this sounds impossible, but it's the truth," Harry continued. "I was born in 1980. You were both killed by Voldemort when I was just a baby. I was sent to live with my mother's Muggle relatives, who—" His jaw clenched. "Let's just say, it wasn't a happy childhood. But I survived. I grew up. I went to Hogwarts. I fought in the war in that timeline. I defeated Voldemort, but he left a final Horcrux that allowed his followers to bring him back. The world fell into chaos. My wife—" His voice broke slightly. "Amelia—was murdered. My children were taken."
Lily covered her mouth, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.
"I had to stop it," Harry continued. "So I came back. I've been here for nearly a year now, changing things, making sure history doesn't repeat itself." He swallowed hard. "Making sure you and Amelia live."
Lily looked at him, really looked at him. Noticing for the first time the messy hair that matched James' and his eyes, his striking green eyes so similar to her own. And though it seemed impossible, she knew in that moment it was true, what he was saying was the truth. "You're… my son-our son?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah. And I know this is a lot. I wasn't even sure if I was ever going to tell you, but with everything coming up—our wedding, the war—I couldn't keep it from you."
Lily was crying now, silent tears streaking down her cheeks. "You've been carrying this alone?"
Harry smiled weakly. "Not alone. Amelia, Edgar, Sirius—they all know. But I wanted you to hear it from me."
James ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head in disbelief. Then, without warning, he reached out and pulled Harry into a tight embrace.
"You grew up," James whispered, voice thick with emotion. "I missed everything, but you—you grew up."
Harry squeezed his eyes shut, gripping his father tightly. "Yeah, Dad. I did."
Lily joined a moment later, wrapping her arms around both of them, "I don't know how this happened," she murmured, "but I am so grateful for it, to get a chance to know you."
When they finally pulled away, James let out a choked laugh. "So, tell me, Future Son—what am I like as a dad?"
Harry smirked. "Well, you tried to teach me to fly before I could walk, and Mum had to threaten to hex you to get you to stop."
James grinned proudly. "Sounds about right."
Lily rolled her eyes fondly before taking Harry's hand. "Thank you," she said softly. "For everything. For saving us."
Harry shook his head. "Not yet. But I will."
James slung an arm around his shoulders, guiding him back toward the villa. "Well then, son, let's make sure of it so we can raise our children together." Then he laughed and shook his head. "That's not a sentence I ever thought I'd say."
Moments later, Lily walked away from the beach with purpose, her mind spinning with everything Harry had just told her. Her son. Her baby. Grown into a man, carrying the weight of an entire war on his shoulders. She could barely wrap her mind around it, but one thing was clear—there was someone who had carried this knowledge alongside him. Someone who had loved him in one life and was preparing to do so again in this one.
She needed to talk to Amelia.
She found her in the gardens behind the villa, sitting on a stone bench with a book in her lap. The sun filtered through the trees, casting golden light across her red hair, making her look every bit as beautiful as Harry often described her. But there was something in the way Amelia's fingers absently traced the spine of her book, a slight crease in her brow, that told Lily she was deep in thought.
Lily took a deep breath and stepped forward. "Mind if I join you?"
Amelia looked up, startled for a moment, but then smiled. "Of course, Lily." She closed the book and set it aside. "Everything alright?"
Lily sat down beside her, studying her for a moment before nodding. "Harry just told me."
Amelia's breath hitched. "Told you?"
Lily gave her a pointed look.
Realisation dawned, and Amelia's eyes widened in shock. "Oh—oh!" She immediately looked away, biting her lip. "I didn't—I wasn't sure if he ever would tell you."
"I think he needed time," Lily said gently. "It's a lot to carry, and honestly? It's a lot to hear. But I'm glad he did. And now, I need to talk to you."
Amelia straightened, looking nervous. "Alright."
Lily exhaled, her voice turning softer. "You've been one of my best friends since we started Hogwarts. Who would have imagined you'd end up my daughter-in-law as well?"
Amelia gasped, colour flooding her cheeks.
Lily smirked. "That's right. Daughter-in-law."
Amelia groaned, covering her face with her hands. "This is so weird."
"Oh, completely," Lily agreed, laughing. "But, in the best possible way." She nudged Amelia's knee with hers. "Merlin, Amelia. You married my son. You had my grandchildren. And now you're doing it all over again."
Amelia peeked at her through her fingers. "When you say it like that, it sounds completely insane."
"Well, to be fair, it is completely insane." Lily chuckled, but then her face softened. "But it also makes sense. I see the way he looks at you. The way he talks about you."
Amelia dropped her hands, staring down at her lap. "I love him, Lily."
Lily reached over, taking her hand. "I know."
A silence stretched between them, filled only by the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore.
"Was I—" Amelia hesitated, swallowing. "Was I a good wife? To him? Did he say?"
Lily squeezed her hand. "We both know you were everything to him. He didn't just love you, Amelia. You were his entire world." She smiled, tears glistening in her eyes. "And from what I can see, that hasn't changed."
Amelia took a shaky breath, her emotions threatening to overwhelm her. "I want to make him happy, Lily."
"You already do."
A tear slipped down Amelia's cheek, and Lily wiped it away with a fond smile. "Just… promise me something?"
"Anything."
Lily's expression turned serious. "Love him. Not just the Harry from your memories. Love this Harry, the one sitting across from you at breakfast, the one raising your children, the one who's about to stand beside you at your wedding. Because as much as he remembers the life you had before… I think this is the one he's been waiting for."
Amelia nodded, her grip tightening on Lily's. "I promise."
Lily grinned, her bright green eyes twinkling mischievously. "Good. Now, let's talk wedding plans. Because if I'm going to be the mother of the groom, I expect nothing less than perfection."
Amelia laughed, the last of her tension fading as they settled into comfortable conversation. For all the impossibilities of their situation, this—this felt right.
Later that day, the late morning sun cast a golden glow over the villa as Lily sat at the breakfast table, watching the children chatter excitedly over their plates of fruit and toast. Her heart ached—not in sadness, but in overwhelming love. These were her grandchildren. The realisation had settled deep within her, and now, she was determined to make the most of it.
Her eyes flickered to Narcissa, who sat beside Sirius, gently helping him peel an orange as he babbled about the sandcastle he planned to build that day. The children were completely at ease with her, their interactions natural and affectionate. It was… unexpected.
Lily had always known Narcissa Black as someone distant and cool. But watching her now, laughing softly at something Severus had said while effortlessly navigating a conversation with the children, Lily saw something she hadn't before.
Narcissa wasn't just a family friend. She was someone the children trusted.
She couldn't help the small flicker of jealousy curling in her chest. 'They should be that comfortable with me.'
She turned to Amelia, lowering her voice so only she could hear. "They really love her, don't they?"
Amelia followed her gaze, smiling as she watched Narcissa ruffle Edgar's hair. "She was like an aunt to them in their time. I think being around her gives them comfort in a world of strangers."
Lily nodded slowly, though the pang of jealousy didn't quite fade. "I understand that… I do. But—" She hesitated before sighing. "I wish they were that comfortable with me."
Amelia reached out and squeezed her hand. "They already love you, Lily. They know who you are. Why do you think Lily—" she gestured toward the little girl, "—kept making you cakes?"
Lily blinked. She hadn't thought much of it at first, but now that she considered it, little Lily had seemed to make a point of bringing her sweets whenever she could. A small gesture… but an important one.
Amelia smiled. "Just spend time with them. Play with them. Let them get to know you like you want to know them. That's all you have to do."
Lily inhaled deeply and nodded. She could do that.
Turning to the children, she clapped her hands together. "Alright, who wants to go play outside?"
Three excited voices shouted in unison, "Me!"
Laughing, Lily stood, letting them each take a hand as they pulled her toward the beach.
As Amelia watched them go, Harry slipped an arm around her waist, pressing a kiss to her temple. "That was kind of you," he murmured.
"She's their grandmother," Amelia said softly. "She just needed a little push."
Harry smiled as he watched his mother run across the sand, chasing the children as they squealed with laughter. 'She'll be good at this', he thought.
She already is.
o - o - o - o
That evening as the bonfire burned low, James stood abruptly, raising his drink with a wide grin. "Alright, enough lounging around—tonight is a celebration! One last night before Amelia is officially stuck with this idiot for life."
Laughter rippled through the group, and Sirius clapped Harry on the back. "Which means it's time for a proper stag night."
"Oh no," Harry groaned, already regretting everything.
Amelia snorted, leaning into Marlene. "Let me guess, you lot are planning something ridiculous?"
"Obviously," Sirius said smugly. "James and I have been planning it for weeks."
Lily rolled her eyes. "Of course, you have."
"Don't worry, Amelia," Marlene said, smirking. "Your last night as a free woman will be far more enjoyable than whatever they've got planned."
Amelia arched an eyebrow. "I am curious."
"Good," Lily declared, standing and grabbing her hand. "Because you don't get a choice. Let's go, ladies!"
Before Amelia could protest, Marlene, Lily, Narcissa, and even McGonagall had pulled her to her feet.
"Minerva, you're coming?" Amelia asked, eyes wide.
McGonagall smirked. "Of course. Someone has to keep you all in line."
"Sure," Marlene snickered. "That's definitely why you're coming."
Harry watched as his fiancée was swept away toward the villa, shooting him an amused, almost challenging look before disappearing inside.
Sirius slung an arm over Harry's shoulder. "Alright, lover boy, stop staring after her. We have a very important night ahead."
Harry groaned again but allowed himself to be dragged away.
Sirius and James led the charge, dragging Harry, Remus, Peter, and Edgar toward a secluded beach bar on the other side of the village. It was dimly lit, packed with loud, rowdy wizards and a few daring Muggles who had wandered in without realising they were surrounded by magic.
The drinks flowed freely, and the night quickly descended into a mix of reckless dares and increasingly absurd bets.
"I bet you five galleons," James slurred, pointing at Sirius, "that you can't ride a broom upside down across the beach without falling."
Sirius, predictably, grinned like a madman. "Challenge accepted."
They all stumbled outside to watch, drinks in hand, as Sirius promptly flipped his broom mid-air, soaring across the sand upside down. For a few glorious seconds, he actually managed to stay on—until he lost control and crashed directly into a beach chair, sending it flying into the ocean.
Edgar howled with laughter as Remus shook his head. "You absolute idiot."
Harry smirked, sipping his drink. "James, pay up."
James grumbled but handed over the galleons, muttering something about Sirius being a "show-off bastard."
As the night wore on, the dares became even more ridiculous. Peter attempted to flirt with a Veela—and failed miserably. Edgar and Severus got into a heated debate over the best Quidditch team. And Sirius, in an act of pure drunken bravado, tried to convince a very skeptical bartender that he was a prince in exile and needed "one last drink before reclaiming his kingdom."
Through it all, Harry laughed harder than he had in months. For just one night, there was no war, no looming battles—just them, their friendship, and the knowledge that by tomorrow, he'd be marrying the love of his life.
Meanwhile, Amelia's night had started with champagne on the villa's terrace, where Lily and Marlene wasted no time in embarrassing her.
"Alright, future Lady Blackwood," Marlene grinned, handing Amelia a package. "First gift of the night."
Amelia unwrapped it and immediately turned bright red.
It was lingerie. Very scandalous lingerie.
"Oh, Merlin," she groaned, covering her face as the others howled with laughter.
"I thought it was appropriate," Marlene teased. "Harry is very… energetic, after all."
Amelia threw a pillow at her. "Shut up."
"I think it's lovely," Narcissa said, sipping her wine. "You should try it on."
"Absolutely not," Amelia said quickly.
Lily smirked. "We'll see after a few more drinks."
After several rounds of champagne and cocktails, the group ventured into the village, where they found a lively wizarding club. The music pulsed through the air, and Amelia, tipsy and laughing, was promptly dragged onto the dance floor by Lily and Marlene.
For hours, they danced, drank, and celebrated, with McGonagall proving shockingly adept at keeping up with them. At one point, a rather enthusiastic wizard attempted to chat Amelia up—only for her to flash her engagement ring and send him on his way.
As the night wound down, they stumbled back to the villa, collapsing onto the terrace in a heap of laughter.
Lily nudged Amelia. "So? Best night ever?"
Amelia smiled, her heart full. "Definitely."
Marlene grinned. "And just think—tomorrow, you marry your very attractive, very wealthy, very devoted fiancé."
Amelia chuckled, tracing her fingers over her engagement ring. "Yeah. I think I got pretty lucky."
Within an hour, the boys had returned—all but Harry collapsing onto the sofas in exhaustion.
As Harry groggily made his way to their room, Amelia leaned against the doorframe, her eyes sparkling despite the late night.
"Have fun?" she asked, smirking.
Harry groaned. "Too much fun. You?"
"Oh, definitely."
He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her neck. "You're not allowed to leave me alone with Sirius and James ever again."
"Well, good thing I'm marrying you tomorrow. You'll never be rid of me now."
Harry smiled against her skin, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. "Good. I wouldn't have it any other way."
Harry groaned against her skin as her fingernails trailed along his back and eager hands flew until they were both naked. Harry's eyes skimmed over her, taking an instant to marvel, and he managed to whisper that she was beautiful before he pinned her to the wall.
** BEGINNING OF LEMON **
Harry used one hand to pin her arms above her head, the other trailing burning paths up and down her body. She gasped at the contrast of the cool wall behind her and the heat pumping off of him. He rubbed his thigh against her centre again as his hand found her breast, and her gasp turned to a moan. "Please, I want you inside me."
Harry chuckled. There was fast, and then there was fast. But he wasn't going to cheat either of them out of the pleasure, at least not as long as he could hang on to the last threads of his own control. He shifted his body to kiss her more easily, one hand still pinning her wrists above her head as the other shifted to cup her. He swallowed her moan with another chuckle.
Amelia broke the kiss with a gasp as his fingers slid inside of her. "Not… quite what I meant."
Harry released her wrists as he sank to his knees, nudging her legs further apart to blow warm breath across her most sensitive area. "I want to taste you." He said and then his mouth joined his fingers and she lost all capacity for thought.
Moments later, her body was still tingling and her thoughts floating in a cloud of light when he lifted her still shuddering body into his arms and turned to lay her gently on the bed. Amelia smiled as their eyes locked, and she reached down to play her fingers over him lightly before she guided him into her body. He slipped into her in silence except for their deep sighs, and his only thought before he lost the last threads of his control was that he felt like he was home.