Chapter Text
“Voldemort had raised his wand. His head was still tilted to one side, like a curious child, wondering what would happen if he proceeded. Harry looked back into the red eyes, and wanted it to happen now, quickly, while he could still stand, before he lost control, before he betrayed fear.
He saw the mouth move and a flash of green light, and everything was gone.”
Harry woke with a start. Bright light flooded in around him and he blinked a bit, trying to clear his mind as he stared up at a ceiling and not the trees of the Forbidden Forest. He took a slow breath in, held it and released it just as slow, his mind trying to figure out what was going on. Just moments ago he had walked to his death, as designed by Dumbledore himself.
Part of his brain wanted to analyze every single moment he had had with the old man, hold each memory under a lens to see if any of it was real. If Dumbledore had ever cared for him. But if he had cared, he would have done far more for Harry.
He would have squashed the rumors of his second year and stopped the bullying he had received from the school. He would have announced in fourth year to the entire school that Harry had not entered his name in the Goblet of Fire, and instead someone who supported Voldemort had done it in hopes to fatally wound Harry or kill him. And most of all, Harry thought bitterly, he would not have left Harry to be alone after Cedric’s death and he would have done more to make sure he was alright after that tortuous night. There was more, Harry knew, that he could reflect on. But as he delighted in feeling himself breathe in and out, Harry felt something he hadn’t felt in the past four years — hope.
Sitting up Harry took stock of the familiar comforts of the Infirmary. He saw Ron and Hermione asleep in their beds. Something sparkling caught his eye, and he realized it was the glint of the time turner poking out from underneath Hermione’s pajamas.
His breath caught. It was the end of his third year. Cedric was alive. Sirius was alive. Hedwig was alive. Remus was alive.
Harry scrambled out of his bed and dressed in the spare uniform left on the nightstand. He bolted out without even checking to see if Madam Pomfrey was in her office or not. His feet carried him through the castle as he ran to Remus’ office. He knew at this point the werewolf was probably packing up his belongings because of Snape’s pettiness. But he had to see him. He had to confirm that this wasn’t some weird dream after taking another Killing Curse head on.
As he reached out to knock on the door, it swung open to reveal Moony standing there with a small smile on his scarred face.
“I saw you on the map, come in, Harry,” Remus said.
Harry nodded dumbly as he followed the man in. He stared at his surrogate uncle who watched him with pride and a touch of sadness. Suddenly he felt the tell tale signs of tears begin to build in the corner of his eyes. He was surprised, he thought he was numb after seeing those he had lost in the Great Hall.
“Moony,” Harry whispered around a sob, and then without a thought he threw himself at Remus.
The werewolf hadn’t anticipated the hug, but Remus adjusted quickly and tucked Harry into a secure and warm embrace. It wasn’t a suffocating hug, like Mrs. Weasley’s, or a quick, fierce hug from Hermione. It was a hug Harry had craved all his life. A hug from his family, from those who unconditionally loved him.
“Are you alright, cub?” Remus asked, carding a hand through Harry’s unruly locks.
“I will be,” Harry replied. He buried his nose into the man’s worn sweater and breathed in the smells of ink, paper, and something feral and canine. Idly he wondered what Sirius smelled like, he wondered what he’d look like happy, whole, and finally free and no longer a fugitive.
“What happened? I thought everything had worked out as best as it could?”
Harry shook his head. “It’s not that. I’m not sure if you’d believe me. I’m not sure even I believe it.”
Remus leaned back to tilt Harry’s chin up gently so he could look at him. “Is it something you want to tell me now or later?”
“Can I tell you later? Can I meet you this summer, somewhere not in the wizarding world? I think of all the people I could tell, it would be you. Maybe Sirius, maybe once his mind is no longer swiss cheese thanks to his unlawful stay in Azkaban.” Harry gave a small, wobbly smile at his attempt at humor.
“Of course, well, as you’ve probably heard I will be leaving due to my status as a werewolf being outed to the school. Therefore, I have all the time in the world for you.”
A frown pulled at the reminder. Snape was truly a bitter man, Harry realized. Yes, he had made an effort and a promise to his mother to keep Harry safe. And yes, he had a role to play as a spy. However, that didn’t excuse his awful behavior towards him, Neville, and anyone he could get away with in bullying. He ironically had become the version of Harry’s father that he had hated.
“Snape’s a twat,” Harry muttered.
Remus gave a small huff, as if he was trying to disguise a chuckle. Harry grinned up at him.
“We could spend all day, and then some, talking about our dislike for the man. So let’s focus on something else. Where and when should we meet?” Remus asked, tweaking Harry’s nose.
“How about somewhere in London, we can meet at Charring Cross and go find some food to eat? How about a week from now at noon?” Harry replied, thinking about what he should probably try to accomplish and figure out before then.
“That would be wonderful, Harry.” Remus beamed before he glanced at the map. He touched his wand to it. “Mischief managed.”
Harry saw as the map wiped itself clean the dot of Dumbledore coming down the hall. He took a few steps away from Remus who tucked the map away and leaned against his desk. Moments later they heard a soft knock and Dumbledore swept into the office.
“Ah, Harry, my boy, I see you’ve heard the unfortunate news that our dear Professor Lupin is leaving us at the end of the term.” If Dumbledore was surprised at seeing Harry, he hid it well behind his facade of twinkly eyes and his grandfatherly smile.
“Yes, sir, Professor Lupin has been the best Defense professor we ever had. And he’s done so much for me that I couldn’t not say goodbye to him and to thank him for everything,” Harry replied evenly, glancing at Remus with a smile so he didn’t have to look Dumbledore in the eye.
The headmaster hummed in agreement as he stepped forward to shake Remus’ hand.
“We will all surely miss you, Remus” Dumbledore said as Remus accepted the handshake.
“I’ll miss everyone here too, but now it’s time for the next chapter for us all.” Remus replied with a slight smile.
“Well the carriage you requested is ready, I just wanted to stop by and tell you. Harry, my boy, don’t forget to check in with Madam Pomfrey and your friends. Have a good rest of your day.”
And with that Dumbledore left with his pink and green pastel robes swishing softly behind him.
Harry took a steadying breath as he slowly unclenched his hands that he had shoved into his pockets. Now knowing what he did, he realized he hated being called “my boy” as he thought with a growing sense of dread that the old professor might see Harry as a possession and not his own person.
“Harry? Harry did you hear me?” Remus asked, holding out the map for him to take.
Harry blinked and looked up at him, accepting the map and stowing it in his back pocket. “Sorry, Moony, just, it’s a lot. It’s a lot right now.”
Remus studied him carefully before he smiled. He pulled Harry into another hug. “I’ll see you in a week from now, at noon at Charring Cross. Don’t worry, Harry, and take it easy. You deserve to rest your mind and your body.”
Harry squeezed Remus around his middle as he swallowed. Just a week, he could do that and talk to Remus and not feel so overwhelmed about the situation he found himself in. He stepped back to smile at his uncle.
“Take care of yourself, too, Moony.”
***
The rest of the day passed in a blur for Harry. He listened to everyone around him talking about the revelation of Remus being a werewolf with one ear as he took in everything and everyone around him. The touches of war weren’t here in this time and it was so odd to see everyone young, naive, and unaware of the dark future Harry had fallen from.
After begging off a game of chess with Ron, Harry had escaped up to the dorms to tuck away in his bed with the curtains closed.
Exhaustion had hit him hard as he wrestled with his emotions. They were a kaleidoscope of grief, guilt, happiness, relief, and more. As he lay there in the quiet of his enclosed bed he let himself finally grieve for all of those he had lost and could now save. He grieved for the childhood and love he had been denied for his entire life. And he grieved for what could have been as he would never know if his sacrifice would have meant anything.
His tears fell heavy and hot down his cheeks. Harry fell asleep, crying silently, as he started to let go of the weight that had been following him since Cedric’s death in the graveyard.
***
“Hello, little master,” a voice said, floating somewhere around Harry.
He opened his eyes to a world of white. Soft lavender mist whirled around Harry in a slow lazy waltz. He looked around at architecture that reminded him of a faint, ghost-like Great Hall without the tables. A tall dark figure stepped out of the white and the mist and towered above Harry.
“Death?” Harry asked, his mind scrambling back to the knowledge that the Deathly Hallows were apparently true.
“Correct, little master,” Death answered. “I assume you are wondering how you came to be and not actually dead?”
Harry nodded. Death moved an arm, as if summoning something, and two chairs and a table faded into existence before them.
“Let us sit, and I will explain.”
With a dubious eye at the chair that looked to be made of mist and clouds, Harry sat down and felt relief wash over him when he didn’t fall through and instead felt the chair hold him.
“I sent you back, to the time you traveled through time to give you a chance.” Death turned its head to face him, but all Harry could see was the cowled dark hood and an infinite darkness where a face should be.
“But why, though? I didn’t have all of the Deathly Hallows.” Harry replied.
He blinked when a teapot and teacup appeared on the table. He reached out and lifted the pot, the weight and heat confirming it was also real, or as real as it could get in his dream, and poured himself a cup of tea. Harry thought a bit hysterically that he was a true Brit if he needed tea to discuss death and time travel.
“You actually were, think back to who truly relieved Dumbledore of the Wand.”
Harry leaned back in his chair as he slowly drank the tea. It was an ever changing flavor of comfort, nostalgia, and warmth. He was certain it wasn’t anything like PG Tips or the stuffy teas Petunia kept in her cabinets for special guests.
“Draco disarmed Dumbledore, then Snape killed him.” Harry closed his eyes. “Snape died for nothing, then.”
“Correct, little master.”
“Was Dumbledore briefly the Master of Death because he had held all of the Hallows?” Harry couldn’t help but ask.
“No, only a descendent of the Peverell line can truly call upon my powers.” Death poured a second cup of tea, and Harry watched in amazement as the deity appeared to drink it. “I have always been fond of the youngest brother’s line.”
Harry took another, hearty, sip of his tea to distract himself from Death drinking tea. “Why is that?”
“Your line has always welcomed me. If your father had lived, he would have told you about your family history and taught you about your family magic.”
A small part of Harry burned in anger for the loss of what he would never have. A larger part of him felt stupid for not understanding half of what Death said, but he tried to reason with the irrational stupidity that it was not his fault that he had no knowledge on this.
“What is my family magic? Why did you send me back for this chance?” Harry asked.
“It is creation and it is destruction. The Peverell and Potter lines have been known for their inventions and their destructive abilities as warriors. I sent you back to properly fulfill the prophecy you were tied to.”
Harry felt cold, like he had stepped through a ghost, at those words. “Neville would never have been the ‘Chosen One,’ then?”
“No, he does not have the power that the Dark Lord knows not.” Death answered.
“Love?” Harry asked incredulously.
“No.” Death seemed to snort in disgust at that. “Dumbledore meddled far too much with the prophecy, angering Fate and Lady Magic herself. The power is from the unification of the Deathly Hallows, when unified you are able to cleanse the objects that house the Horcruxes. The goblins will know what to do, they will know how to help you perform the ritual you need.”
Harry swallowed and thought about that, rolling those words over and over. “Is it really that easy?”
“Yes and no, some things will happen as they did but not exactly. Your fourth year will be the same, for the most part, you will still be entered into the tournament and you will still face a resurrected Tom Riddle. But from there you can start to make the changes Fate and Lady Magic had originally intended.”
“I can save Cedric? He won’t just be the spare?” Harry asked hopefully.
“Of course, little master, that is not yet set in stone.”
He nodded as another thought occurred to him. “I don’t have the wand or stone yet, how will I get those?”
Somehow, on an instinctive level, Harry knew that Death was grinning smugly. “They are already with you. Fear not, Dumbledore now holds a false wand and he will continue to think it the true wand of the Hallows. A gift of mine and Lady Magic to you.”
“Right. Right. Is there anything else I need to know besides going to the goblins?”
Death nodded slowly. “I am here if you ever need me, just call for me. Aloud or in your head, I will answer. And learn your roots, little master, and grow into the wizard I know you will become.”
Harry realized that this dream, this world he was in with Death was beginning to fade away.
“And what kind of wizard is that?” He couldn’t help but ask.
“Why an old friend, of course.”
***
When Harry woke he felt the weight of the wand in one hand and the stone in the other. He slowly sat up and studied the two items in his hands. The wand looked like his faithful holly wand, but as he looked closer he saw that small runes were engraved on the handle. The stone looked as it did when he had used it in the forest.
Taking a deep breath Harry cast some wards and silencing barriers around his bed and turned the stone.
Two figures appeared opposite him and Harry stared with longing at his parents.
“My sweet, brave, self-sacrificing boy,” Lily whispered through her tears.
“Please tell Remus what you did before you arrived back here so he can cuff you on the back of the head for me.” James gave Harry a crooked, sad smile.
Harry choked on a sob that also came out as a weak chuckle.
“You both remember, then?” He asked.
“We do, Death as you learned is kind to us as we are from the youngest brother’s line,” James answered.
“I need to learn about our family magic, and anything I just have been ignorant to.” Harry picked at a hang nail.
His parents nodded, their ghostly hands reaching out touch his. He faintly felt some warmth. Harry wondered if he was just convincing himself that he felt something.
“This summer you will get a crash course in the Potter magic, I hope you are ready for it.” James smiled wickedly.
“I am, I’m done being a pawn,” Harry said firmly.
Lily smiled at him. “We will have more time to talk and teach you, for now, go eat and be with your friends.” She paused a moment. “Maybe even get to know Neville a bit better, if you’re willing? You two should have grown up together as brothers, maybe even as best friends.”
She sounded so unsure and hopeful. Harry realized he couldn’t deny her and she was right, he needed to get to know Neville.
“I will mum, I think to do what I need to do I’ll need all the friends I can get. And the first thing I’m going to do as Neville’s friend is get him a wand that works for him.”
His parents beamed at him. It was such a heady feeling, it was dangerous and intoxicating but he reveled in having his parents’ approval.
“So it is alright that I’m going to tell Remus?” Harry asked uncertainly.
“Yes, as much as we both love Sirius, he needs to heal first. His Occlumency is probably trash at this point.” James grimaced. “Remus was always the planner for us, he’ll be able to see the big picture and see how the little details add up to it.”
“While we are not with you amongst the living, as much as we would love to be, we are here for you. Now go and live, Harry. Everything will work out.” His mother smiled at him, and Harry couldn’t help but think his mother was the most beautiful witch he had ever seen.
“I will, thank you, and I love you both so, so much.”
“We love you too.”